#they’ll be fixed on Monday :)

[nico-di-genova]

Here’s the link to my article about the references in the Lightcycle / Run queue for anyone who wants to read it!

[fingertipsmp3]

This week has really been one of those that has me straight up not wanting to leave my house or contact anyone or do anything because something seems to go wrong with everything I do

[neixins]

still fighting for my life trying to get the gorgeous gorgeous qjj set btw

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 4; ghoap x reader) masterlist tags: dubcon/noncon, nsfw

-

Much of Ghost’s behaviour is reactive. Oddly passive for the assumptions people often make of him. He doesn’t run from trouble, but certainly he doesn’t seek it out. Aside from a few rare deviations from the norm (running his father out of the city at eighteen, not breaking enough bones to count as restitution, and finally leaving home to enlist), that remains the rule. 

The way Johnny mopes for days after parading his bird around base has Ghost nearly rolling his eyes, already exasperated. He should’ve known his puppy wouldn’t share well. 

It’s worse than he expected though. Johnny mopes for a week straight after the fact, hardly able to meet Ghost’s eyes in briefings. He stares straight down at the floor pathetically, dragging his feet behind him when he’s dismissed. Price notices it right away, raising an eyebrow at Ghost after Johnny leaves the room. 

“Trouble in paradise?” he asks, leaning back in his chair, hands folded over his stomach.

“In the dog house, I reckon. His girl’s pissed at him.”

“Your doing?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” Ghost replies smoothly, face giving away nothing.

Price is hardly convinced. “I’m sure. Nothing to do with you.”

Ghost doesn’t answer that. He waits until he’s dismissed and then takes off down the same hall Johnny just left, curious about wherever his boy’s slunk off to. 

He can’t help the latent sadistic streak in him that curls up in pleasure at the sight of Johnny pouting and squirming whenever he walks into the room. Still, his attitude will need to be rectified soon enough—there’s only so much Ghost will tolerate, only so much disrespect he’ll turn a blind eye to. One day Johnny will look back and reflect on this, and appreciate the extent of Ghost’s magnanimity. 

Still, he doesn’t enjoy being ignored. One week bleeds into the beating heart of the next and Ghost realizes that he’s had enough of the silent treatment. He’s given Johnny more than enough time to come to terms with their new situation. 

He tracks him down to the armoury on a Monday evening after most of the other soldiers have already left for the day, back home or eating supper in the mess hall. It’s empty apart from the two of them, and when Johnny finally notices his presence in the room, his eyes widen almost imperceptibly. He doesn’t flinch at least. Good boy. He’s gotten better at being less reactive, less shaky about being caught off guard. 

“Done for the day, sergeant?” He keeps it light to start, taking a step closer. 

Johnny tenses at the approach. “Yes, sir.” The title would usually satisfy on its own, but it comes strained, polite but removed. 

“Where’d you come from?”

“Layouts and gunners training, sir.”

On any other day, Johnny’s deference might come as a lovely note to end the day on, but not today. It rankles now, the edge of his voice sweetened by a kind of silent dismissal, not giving any more information than what’s required of him. Nothing like the boy who used to open his mouth and sing the world back to him. Ghost has earned his every thought. 

“We have a problem, Soap?”

“No, sir,” Johnny grumbles, still not meeting his eyes. His mouth barely moves when he says the words, teeth all but grit. 

No dealing with this temper tantrum like adults then. For all Johnny must carp and bitch to himself about the hardships that Ghost has put him through, he seems to have no desire to actually deal with the problem. That’s too bad. It would’ve been easy enough to talk it out like grown men.

They’ll have to come to terms some other way.

“Come. We’re fixing this attitude of yours now,” Ghost grunts, turning before Johnny has the opportunity to complain and marching down the hall towards the gym. 

He hears Johnny make a sound like an angry bull before following him down the hall. The loud footfalls against the tile floor betray his simmering anger; it reveals to Ghost what he already knew intuitively. His boy still needs to learn to play well with others. 

In time, this anger will fade into the ether, replaced by Johnny’s old doggish need to please Ghost, but it’s causing too many problems now to be tolerated. He hasn’t gotten to see the bird since the week before. Doesn’t even have a photo of his own to look at when he rubs one out. It would be less aggravating if Johnny were willing to spread his legs and let Ghost rut between his thighs, but they aren’t there yet.

The gym is empty as it usually is around early evening when Ghost opens the door, the lights off from whoever last used it. Johnny follows him sullenly, dragging his feet about it. Ghost’s eye ticks at the show of attitude persisting into this space.

“Lock it behind you,” Ghost says without looking back at him, crossing to where the mats are on the other side of the gym. 

Neither of them are dressed to spar, still clad in their fatigues, but his blood cranks up to boiling when he turns around to watch as Johnny crosses the room angrily, picking up steam now as well. He comes in hot, not even bothering to suss out Ghost’s first move before launching himself at him. 

Ghost staggers back a step at the hit, but he takes it in stride, shifting his weight and using Johnny’s momentum to throw him off, sending him sprawling. He’s quick to get back to his feet, but that moment of carelessness gives Ghost everything he needs. The next time Johnny throws himself at him, Ghost lets him get an arm around his leg and nearly grins to himself when he feels Johnny put all his weight into trying to flip him. 

He knows strength isn’t everything, but there’s something to be said about the several inches and even more kilos he has on Johnny. That plus a decade’s worth of experience. Sparring devolves into a sweat-slicked grapple, Johnny’s shirt coming untucked and rucked up, his hair mussed. He tries to go for the mask, eyes gleaming with a wet, savage glint—forgetting decorum or tact, and just going for the most underhanded maneuver. 

He pays for it when Ghost takes him hard to the floor, catching him with a leg sweep that he might’ve been able to avoid if he were fighting with a clear mind. Anger makes him sloppy though. 

“Fuckin’ bastard—” Johnny grunts when he hits the floor, narrowly avoiding clipping his chin against the mat. 

“Folks never married, so guess you’re right,” Ghost remarks, unbothered. Hardly winded even, only the lightest sheen of sweat on his brow, obscured by the mask. 

His sudden divulgence makes Johnny falter. So rarely does Ghost open even a crack that the momentary honesty catches him off guard, giving Ghost the opportunity to wrangle him into a tight hold. 

Pinning Johnny isn’t an easy task because the kid fights dirty when he feels cornered. Lashes out wildly with his fists when Ghost gets an arm around his neck and holds him in place, less precise than when he’s coolheaded, but still brutal, all raw strength packed behind his punches. He twists Johnny over onto his stomach when the boy tries to buck him off, slamming him down hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

“Gonna tell me what’s got you all riled up now?” Ghost asks, twisting Johnny’s arms behind his back to pin him in place. 

He struggles in Ghost’s hold, trying to find a weak point. The search is fruitless. Ghost’s body weighs him down like a boulder pinning him flush to a dirt-streaked mountainside, forcing the air out of his lungs when he presses down harder. 

“Ye cannae just take her from me—” he spits out, face flushed. He kicks out a foot, trying to free himself, but all Ghost does is shift slightly to press his shin to Johnny’s calf, holding it down. “I told ye she was different and ye had to—and now she willnae even fuckin’ talk to me. Barely texts me, willnae answer my calls. I cannae—I can’…” 

His voice trails off on a hitch. Not quite a sob, but a frustrated, wretched sound. 

“Held that in for a while, didn’t ya?” Ghost murmurs, holding Johnny down with ease when he struggles again, trying to wrench his arms out of Ghost’s hold. 

“I almost fuckin’—almost just fuckin’ gave her to ye,” Johnny says, shame thick in his voice. “Thought maybe it wouldnae be worth…jus’ dinnae want a girl coming between us. But she’s—I told ye, Lt, she’s special, I cannae jus’—I cannae jus’ let her go. And now she doesnae want anythin’ to do with me.”

Ghost doesn’t bother pointing out the absurdity of that statement. As if Johnny could give him something that’s already his. 

“Not trying to steal your bird, Johnny.” He taps Johnny’s cheek, a little reprimand. It makes him blink and scrunch up his nose. “What’d be the point of that?”

He forgets how young Johnny is sometimes, just now nearing the end of his twenties. Still wet behind the ears, all blood flushed and pink cheeked. Green still to the realities of the world and Ghost’s presence in his life (permanent, fixed; unchanging). 

There isn’t a version of him that wants someone who doesn’t also want Johnny. Inconceivable. After everything that they’ve been through together, the root of him and what he wants is inextricably tied with what Johnny wants—at times, Ghost almost wishes he could live inside his head, just a constant stream of Johnny’s thoughts into his. 

Johnny twists his head enough to glare over his shoulder at Ghost. “The fuck are ye on about? Ye grabbed her ass in front of God ‘n everyone, for Christ’s sake. Said your intentions loud ‘n clear.”

“‘Course I did. She’s got a nice arse, doesn’t she?”

“You’re really startin’ to fuck with my head, Ghost, I dinnae understand what ye—”

“You keep running your mouth off about trying to take the girl from you—I don’t need to take anything.” He stresses the word to be clear, forcing Johnny back down when he tries to buck Ghost off again. This time he stays in place, both calves pinned down to the mat, cheek pressed into the fabric when Ghost slots a hand into the scruff of his mohawk, forcing his head down. “Quit struggling—you’re not getting back up. We’re sorting this shit out now so you quit moping around base and giving me a fuckin’ headache.”

“Stop exaggerating—I havenae even opened my mouth around ye in days. I’m no’ doing anything to your head—”

“How the fuck am I supposed to think when you keep running away?”

The air hangs heavy in the wake of his words, the oxygen all but sucked out of the room. 

“The two of you are mine,” Ghost says in a low, harsh voice, the sound making Johnny flinch against the mat. “I’m not asking for just one of you. You’re out of your fuckin’ mind if you think I’d leave you out of this, mutt.”

He’d sooner lose them both, but that’s another scenario that he’d never tolerate. 

With some effort, Ghost tips Johnny over onto his back, holding him down before he can start to struggle again. He keeps his wrists trapped behind his back, forcing Johnny to arch his back off the floor, presenting himself. From his vantage point, it’s easy for Ghost to flick his gaze down and find Johnny’s dick pressed hard against the zipper of his pants, all plumped up from being pinned to the ground. 

“Good, you’re already hard,” Ghost grunts approvingly, rolling his hips down to alleviate some of the pressure building up in his groin. “Haven’t come since she left the other week, I bet.”

Panic flares red hot in Johnny’s eyes, widening when Ghost settles deeper between his legs, his own hard cock unmistakable. “Wait—wait, Ghost—I’m no’—I’m no’—”

It would be a stretch to say that anything softens in him, but a part of Ghost does feel for the boy. He’s been around Johnny long enough to know his persuasion—strictly women with the occasional appreciative glances towards some men. An appreciation he relegates to furtive, guilty glances, holding it inside of him like a nasty secret that he’ll never part with. Too riddled with Catholic guilt and the ease of just playing it straight. 

Ghost has no intention of making it easy on him though. 

He tries to imagine what it might be like if he were on the other end, but for him it’s only ever been cunts and Johnny and the bird. Now just the latter two hold any weight. 

His protests only last as long as it takes Ghost to unfasten their belts and zippers, fishing Johnny’s cock out first. The second his rough hand wraps around Johnny’s length, the words die on the boy’s lips, replaced by a choked off grunt. His balls are full enough to corroborate Ghost’s words—he probably hasn’t come since seeing his girl off the other day, too frustrated and upset to jack off, the ducts shut, working himself up into a frothy mess only for it to slip right out of his hands at the last second. 

Johnny’s eyes roll back when Ghost grips both their cocks in his fist, slicking his hand up with Johnny’s precome. Sweat sluices down the sides of his neck. He looks good with his tongue tied up in knots, thoughts emptying out through his ears in rivulets. 

Even with Ghost’s hand as big as it is, he can’t wrap it all the way around the two of them. Johnny’s come provides a nice glide though, lubricating the underside of his shaft when Ghost grinds up into his fist. 

It spurs him into a kind of ​​protolithic fervour, desperate only to come. The iron rich scent of blood and sweat makes Ghost salivate, eyes drawn to the tender skin of his neck, the flush now riding high, up and over his cheekbones. Lips bitten red, also swollen with blood. In a better mood, Ghost might indulge him, might roll up his mask and lick into the wet mouth hanging open deliciously, teasing him, but there’ll be time for that later. 

He slurs out Ghost’s name when he comes, Simon ripped from his lips like it was dug clean out of his soul. His come splatters across his belly and shirt in thin, watery spurts, the wind knocked out of him again. 

Johnny squirms when Ghost doesn’t let go of their cocks, hand still dragging up and down, mumbling that he’s too sensitive, fuck, lemme go, I cannae—

“I’ll stroke your cock and grab the bird’s ass whenever I feel like it,” Ghost growls down at him, at the end of his patience now. He pants out a ragged breath when his cock throbs at a particularly whorish moan dropping broken from Johnny’s mouth. “I’ll nut in her cunt and make you lick it out if I want. And you’ll fuckin’ thank me for giving you a taste.”

Johnny almost goes nonverbal at that, a leg trying to kick out weakly even though it’s still pinned down under Ghost’s heavy thigh. His dick twitches against Ghost’s, a valiant effort. 

When Ghost comes, it settles in a thick, viscous mess across Johnny’s stomach, pooling around his belly button. It radiates hot down his back, the ache in his lower spine abating momentarily. Can only imagine how much better it would feel balls deep in Johnny’s ass or the bird’s pussy, a wet warmth clutching him tight, legs wrapped around his waist to drag him closer. 

He’ll have that soon enough.

A ragged wheeze is pulled from Johnny’s chest when Ghost drags his cock through it, spreading it over his stomach. It’s worse when Ghost dips his fingers into the mess, a sticky blend of both their come, before bringing his fingers up to Johnny’s mouth, forcing them past his lips and over his teeth and gums. Johnny sputters at the taste, going cross-eyed to look down at Ghost’s hand. 

There’s no time for pillowtalk or soft words though. Even if there were, niceties come out of Ghost’s mouth like a ring of smoke. Still, the thought of the bird not returning Johnny’s calls or texts makes him bristle, his annoyance renewed. His own disinclination to communicate aside—a waste of words as far as Ghost’s concerned, he says more with his actions anyway—none of this works if the girl won’t talk it out. 

Probably pent up, the stubborn thing. He’ll have to sort that out too. It keeps him young at least. 

“C’mon, Johnny,” Ghost says, rising to his feet. He dusts his hands off on his fatigues as if nothing happened, then holds out a hand for Johnny to grab. “Let’s go see our bird.”

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Chapter Word count: 14.8k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

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

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

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

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh. Uh, I’m Mr. Jeon’s—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I was thirsty,” she continues. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So—”

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

“Okay, sir,” you say softly.

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

“Have you had breakfast?” He asks.

“E-excuse me?”

“Breakfast. Have you had it?”

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

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

“Why don’t you drive?”

“I don’t have a car, sir.”

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

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

“Bitna has a company car.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You may leave,” he instructs. 

“What about lunch, sir?” You ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fine,” he shrugs. 

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

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

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

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

“Hi, ___. How are you this morning?”

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

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

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

“He didn’t. Jungkook did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe he’s just concerned.”

You snort at the absurdity of the statement. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” you say softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you’re gonna eat again?”

“I was actually–”

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

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

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

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

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

You smack yourself internally for rambling. 

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

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

“So that makes me, what? Abnormal?”

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

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

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

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

He walks in and lets you fix his tie again, and for some reason, you feel more nervous than you normally do today. You sit and busy yourself with responding to emails as he eats his breakfast, careful not to look at him while he does.

“It’s good, a little better than how I do mine,” he says, surprising you.

“You cook?” You ask too quickly.

“Of course,” he frowns, looking a little offended. “I lived on my own for years. How do you think I survived?”

“Hiring people to do it for you,” you shrug. 

Peeking at him once again, you see that he’s almost finished with the dish, and you can’t help the little smile on your face at the thought that he might actually enjoy it. It’s just fried rice, but you let yourself feel the shallow happiness from this. He’s at least not berating you or anything.

He finishes his meal as you go through yesterday’s meetings. There’s not much about the Arts Center he says, just like yesterday and the day before, and you start to wonder if the issue with his father has anything to do with that. 

You let it go, opting to just follow his pace and let him talk about it when he’s ready, if he ever will be. 

The morning goes by smoothly. Jungkook meets with Yoongi in his office then reviews the reports you’d sent last Monday. He sends you an email, saying that they’ve been approved and for you to attach his signature for sign-off and dissemination, leaving you perplexed at the lack of any other comments again. 

He goes for a quick lunch at the dining hall while you eat a sandwich at the pantry, and not long after, you’re back in the car to head to Jungkook’s appointment with his best friend.

Kim Taehyung’s tailor shop boasts of classic European design. It’s elegant in all the ways that he is, as he stands by the desk in his working space, a smaller room on the mezzanine floor with an exquisite couch and displays of his work. He’s donned in an orange suit that you think only he can pull off, while his brother, Seokjin, sits on a chair in an impeccable black 3-piece. 

You know as much that Jungkook grew up with both men, but while the brothers are often a hot topic on the news because of their wealth, their successful businesses, and colorful dating lives, you now wonder how Jungkook managed to stay out of the spotlight despite being a lot of the things that they are. 

You bow at them after Jungkook introduces you as his assistant, and you’re surprised when Seokjin reaches out his hand to shake yours, bowing as well and offering you a kind smile. Taehyung does the same, and you can’t help but feel the warmth on your cheeks. They’re clearly incredibly handsome men with amazing styles, just like your boss, but they’re obviously respectful and gentle, unlike him. 

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Cho,” Taehyung smiles. “So, what events do I need to dress my best friend for?”

He looks warm, friendly, and you can’t help but mirror his smile as he offers you a seat and some tea. You take out your calendar and enumerate at least three big events in the next months, which would require standout designs. Jungkook also wants four additional everyday classic suits, and Taehyung starts sketching on his pad as you speak. 

“Make one for my event, too,” Seokjin says. “I’m launching my traditional alcohol brand in Singapore in September. It’ll be a big thing so Jungkook needs a fancy piece for that as well.”

“That soon?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah, it got pushed early,” Seokjin replies.

Jungkook asks you to check his calendar for any activities in the Singapore office, and you state that there’s nothing scheduled during that time. 

“There’s a landscape designer I want to meet while I’m there. Schedule one with her later,” Jungkook instructs you, and you make a note to coordinate with Lucas, who will continue to serve as the assigned assistant for the Vice President’s Southeast Asia trips. 

Taehyung finishes the rough designs quickly, given that he’s already familiar with the style his client wants. He’s done a lot of Jungkook’s suits, which you know from all the weeks of preparing his clothes, and you do admit that he looks best in these custom-made pieces.

As Taehyung takes Jungkook’s measurements - given that, as per his words, Jungkook has gotten wider since the last time - he asks if you have something to wear for those big events, too. 

“Uh, yes,” you say. 

“Are they from company events from before?” Taehyung asks.

You nod shyly. It’s not like you’re paid enough to afford a new one every time nor can you wear them anywhere else; there aren’t exactly regular fancy dinners and social occasions you get invited to.

“Have new ones made, then,” Jungkook says, his back turned to you.

“Uh, there’s no need, Mr. Jeon. The gowns still look new and they’re well-made,” you insist.

“Store-bought?” Taehyung asks, his eyebrow cocked.

“Uh, yes, Mr. Kim.”

“Nothing beats custom-designed ones though. And I must say, I’m kinda good at them.”

“I, uh… it’s really not necessary,” you stutter, feeling a little too shy and definitely undeserving. It’s Kim Taehyung; his name is the brand.

“I believe it is,” Jungkook says now, turning to you. “They’re big events and we’re organizing one with the arts professionals. Some dignitaries will be coming, too, including the culture minister. I’d prefer if you looked the part of working for the Vice President, Ms. Cho. You represent me in that way.”

“I… uh, okay,” you sigh, knowing you don’t seem to be in a position to turn him down. 

“Great. Start thinking of designs, then!” Taehyung beams.

It’s some minutes later when Jungkook’s measurements have been taken and Taehyung calls for you. You sit on the chair facing his desk not far away while Jungkook and Seokjin talk about sports and this new club that opened in Gangnam. 

Seated in front of you, Taehyung takes his sketch pad and starts asking what design you want.

“Something simple and comfortable since I’ll be moving around,” you say softly. “And nothing form-fitting or revealing since, uh…”

“I understand,” Taehyung smiles, revealing a gentle side of him that the paparazzi and tabloids clearly don’t capture. 

He starts drawing your silhouette, glancing at you then at Jungkook before speaking.

“So, he’s been in this role for a few weeks now. Has he been nice?”

“Define ‘nice,’” you respond, earning you a chuckle. 

“I guess that’s my answer, then.”

“I don’t mean to say he isn’t,” you backtrack. “Mr. Jeon just has a different leadership style as Mr. Jung’s, that’s all.”

“I suppose that’s quite a difficult adjustment for you, huh?”

You purse your lips and Taehyung laughs, the soft way he does it is something new and refreshing to you. You didn’t realize how deprived you are of such gentleness, of such acts or sights as simple as a smile. Hoseok is no longer your source. Your team hasn’t been as jolly these past weeks. The only other person you talk to regularly at work is Yoongi, and while he’s definitely been smiling more, it’s a lot more teasing than it is comforting. You’ve been missing your best friends more because of that, you think - Soomin’s smile is blinding, Jimin’s is sweet and infectious. Perhaps it’s why you haven’t been smiling much yourself. 

“I won’t tell, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures you. “I just wanted to check on him. This whole move has been tough but he doesn’t say much. I’m guessing he doesn’t tell you, either, but he’ll definitely show it.”

“He has, actually,” you say softly, knowing now that even with his closest friends, Jungkook tends to keep things to himself. “He’s pretty stressed most days, always working and stuff. He’s been a little hard on me but I guess that’s a natural reaction for some.”

“That’s not an excuse though.”

“It isn’t, but… it’s okay. I can handle it.”

It’s not as much of a lie anymore as it used to be. Jungkook hasn’t been overly critical about things as he was just last week. He rarely makes comments on your minutes now, doesn’t correct the reports you reviewed, doesn’t talk over you or doesn’t yell. There’s been a change, definitely, and you wonder what triggered it. 

“He doesn’t really smile, does he?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Taehyung’s laughter is one of disbelief and pure amusement, catching the attention of the other two men but he waves them off. 

“He still does, just not as much,” he responds. “It kinda stopped after the breakup with Chaerin but I guess that’s what heartbreak does, right?”

“I… wouldn’t know. I’ve never experienced it,” you shrug.

“Lucky,” he hums. “I don’t wish it on anyone.”

You glance at Jungkook, briefly letting yourself imagine a version of him that’s a lot more carefree, relaxed, perhaps happy. Maybe it’s the loneliness and that you’d understand; that, you’ve experienced. It’s both liberating and isolating. You wonder if that’s how he’s been feeling all these years since then.

“I’m done,” Taehyung announces, showing you three designs that are exactly what you asked for. 

“These look nice. And way out of my price range,” you laugh.

“Perks of having a rich boss,” he winks. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, okay? You’re my client and I want you to wear these with confidence. Now, if you’re okay with all this, I’ll get one of my female assistants to get your measurements.”

You nod in response. There’s absolutely nothing you would change about those designs. And if you’re being honest, you now can’t wait for those events just so you could wear them. Hoseok had obviously paid for the gowns you had to wear for the big events, but those were store-bought that A-yeong helped you choose. Some were your own purchases, but this is the first time that you’re getting measured for custom-made clothing designed by Kim Taehyung. 

You walk towards the fitting room at the corner where one of his staff meets you. She’s meticulous, which is why it takes longer than usual just to get this done. With her silence, however, you’re able to hear the conversation happening outside, with the brothers now asking Jungkook about the same thing you’ve been wondering about.

“By the way, what was up with you last Monday?” Seokjin asks. “I thought that was gonna be night 4 of you going home with a new woman. But you passed out before you could even ask. And that was just 9PM.”

“Four nights isn’t much, though,” Taehyung laughs. “Didn’t he do that with seven women on seven straight nights when he was in Singapore? That was wild. Was it that stressful there? Or were there just so many to choose from?”

“Shut up. I’m not proud of that,” Jungkook groans. “And that was one time. It never happened again.”

“It never happened seven times straight again,” Seokjin corrects. “You were really living your life out there, huh? Stressful job, a rooftop bar in your apartment building, chauffeur and butler services 24/7, women from all over the world begging to sleep with you…”

“It’s called the post-break up stage,” Taehyung says. 

“For six years?!” Seokjin asks incredulously. “It’s either you loved Chaerin that much, you blamed yourself too much, or you just really sucked at moving on.”

“I vote all of the above,” Taehyung states.

“Me, too,” Seokjin claims.

“Fuck you both,” Jungkook groans again. 

“I think he also just missed us too much,” Seokjin adds. “Lucas was cleaning up your messes every time, not snapping you out of it. But we’re here now so I guess three straight nights is as far as you’ll go.”

“Two, if you stopped me last Sunday,” Jungkook points out. “You both always insisted that Sundays are a no-no. You were too busy with your own women.”

“May we remind you that you didn’t even make it to our table. You stepped foot in the bar then left five minutes later,” Taehyung says. “But really, what was it about Monday? You seemed angrier than usual.”

“Just… a bunch of things my father said,” Jungkook huffs.

“Did he tell you off again?”

“Not really, surprisingly. He just delivered a message basically, about what the board members were saying about me and my project. Bullshit stuff, you know? I just wanted to forget about it.”

“Did you?”

“Sorta,” Jungkook says. “I still don’t want to talk about it.”

“But it’s still happening, right?” Taehyung asks worriedly. “The Arts Center, I mean. You’ve been wanting to work on that since the building was abandoned five years ago.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook responds. “I guess. We already put money into it. I’ll just have to make concessions if my father doesn’t side with me on this. I hate to think he’s buying into what those old folks are saying.”

“Ms. Cho, we’re all done,” the staff member tells you, muffling the conversation outside that you couldn’t help but hear. 

It felt quite intrusive, hearing how life was like for Jungkook in Singapore, but then again, his personal life seemed to be the topic in the office comfort rooms, and you don’t know how to feel about getting confirmation about those rumors. It felt sad more than anything though, living that kind of life away from friends and family. You wouldn’t know what moving on from a breakup feels like, but you suppose people grieve a lost love in their own ways; you can’t blame them for how they choose to repair the parts of them that broke. 

But the bit about his conversation with his father is what bothers you. You’d hate to think that there’s a possibility that Jungkook’s plans won’t be fully realized, and whatever the reasons for that are, you hope they didn’t break his spirit too much. You know the plans now like the back of your hand and the more you learn, the more you believe in it. You hope Jungkook continues to believe in it, too.

You exit the fitting room, catching the end of a conversation where Seokjin suggests a wholesome weekend for the three men of just dinner and drinks. The two other men agree, and they all turn to you once you make your presence felt.

“All good?” Taehyung asks you.

“Yes,” you bow in thanks. 

“Great. The gowns will be ready at the same time as Jungkook’s suits will be. I’ll just let you guys know, okay?

“Sure,” Jungkook says. “But anyway, we have to get back to work. Thanks again.”

The brothers bid you and Jungkook goodbye, and you head back to the office with not much words said. Jungkook seems less frustrated, but the worry you feel suddenly returns. It’s the thought that maybe he doesn’t feel supported, that maybe what he’s doing isn’t enough, and that more than that, it's him choosing to deal with all this on his own, not even looking to his friends to comfort him.

Jimin and Soomin meet you for lunch at a restaurant that Saturday afternoon. The drive from Busan took longer than expected, they said, but you say you don’t mind. They’re visiting you like they always do every month, regardless of how busy they are back in their hometown, which was your home for a few years, too.

You were in the same class; your mom worked at the school, which was the only reason why you were able to attend a prestigious one in the first place. Even when you moved back to Daegu, you remained in touch with them. Despite the distance, none of you wanted to just let the friendship fade, and even when they had to stay back and you made a life out here in Seoul, they made sure to visit you as much as they could.

They’re why you were excited for the weekend to come and now, you’ll be enjoying a hearty meal, getting your nails done after, lounging at your apartment, and then heading to a club for a night out, which you only do whenever they’re around. 

“So, has the boss situation improved?” Soomin asks, her eyes soft and laced with worry “Or should I storm the jerk’s house and give him a piece of my mind?”

“It has,” you chuckle. “So no need to call him names or fight anyone. I’m okay.”

“Well, you did call him a grumpy old grinch with nice hair the other week,” Jimin points out. “So… did he get a haircut?”

“No,” you laugh again. “And that was in the heat of the moment. I… I mean, he’s still grumpy but he’s not… as grumpy or unbearable. He’s been—”

“Oh hun, please don’t say he’s been kind and then give him a pass for how he’s been to you,” Soomin reprimands. “Mean people don’t just become nice all of a sudden. And if they do, that’s a controlling tactic - they want you to think they’re capable of change so you’ll soften up to them and then give them a pass every time they do asshole-y things again.”

“You watch too many shows,” you frown, although knowing her statement isn’t wrong; it’s just not something you can relate with Jungkook.

Sure, he hasn’t been the nicest, but he also hasn’t been the meanest. He’s just been… him, you suppose - a bit in the middle; frustrated at worst, quiet at best, stoic on most days. He does seem to live in his head a lot, and while you won’t go so far as characterizing him as kind, he definitely hasn’t been insufferable these past few days. 

“I’ve just dealt with too many assholes, ___,” Soomin corrects. “They’re all the same. Men are shit.”

“Except for Jimin,” you correct.

“Except for Jimin,” she concurs. 

“I accept the honor,” he bows. “But seriously, ___. How has it been? You… you seemed really sad last week and I would’ve driven here then if we didn’t have that work emergency.”

“I’m okay, I mean it. I’ve experienced worse,” you try to assure them.

“You do know that having experienced something worse doesn’t mean it’s fine for you to experience something bad again, right?” Soomin points out.

“I know, but it also means that I know my threshold for bad behavior,” you say. “Jungkook was in a lot of stress and I did mess up. But I think he’s making up for that.”

“By apologizing, you mean?” Soomin cocks an eyebrow.

Your sigh tells her that’s definitely not what Jungkook has done. 

“Well, he approves my minutes and reviewed reports much quicker,” you reason. “And he doesn’t comment as much. But actually, I think he just pities me. And that’s worse.”

“Why would he pity you?” She asks.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I said that a tree fell on our roof and that mom got injured the weekend before my mishap,” you explain. “And then he found out how early I start my day just so I can get to him on time. He’s made adjustments after those and I… I think he’s guilty or something. And he’s just not being his usual angry self around me to make it up to me.”

“So in short, he’s still kind of an asshole,” Soomin says, prompting Jimin to snort and you to pout. “He could always just apologize if he’s guilty and realized he should treat you better.”

“Some things aren’t easy for other people to say, you know?” You say softly. 

“That’s not an excuse,” she points out.

“It’s an explanation,” you counter. “Or one of them, I guess. I don’t know him well enough, but it’s better to think that he’s a decent person who just struggles with emotions than someone who willingly makes people’s lives difficult. I mean, that’s easier to manage and accept.”

“If that helps you deal and he’s indeed improving, then maybe I won’t have to storm his place then,” she smiles, taking your hand and kissing it as she likes to do. 

She knows your habit of pressing your nails onto your skin, and she always said she likes to remind you that you deserve gentleness, too; she’ll give it if you can’t give it to yourself. 

The rest of the afternoon goes as you planned, with all the banter you’d expect from your best friends amid the pampering and then the chick flick in the background as you get ready in your tiny apartment. 

You smile at your reflection in the mirror. The high-waist trousers and sleeveless top ensemble is a refreshing sight for you, as you only really dress up like this for a night out. You’re in your usual pencil skirts and blouses otherwise, and in jeans and tops or oversized jumpers on a normal day. 

Soomin’s done your makeup and Jimin compliments you as he looks on, and soon enough, they’re ready as well to head out. 

“Where’re we going?” You ask from the passenger seat as Jimin navigates the busy streets of Seoul on a Saturday night. 

“Some new restaurant the guys discovered,” Soomin responds. “I think it’s not far from here.”

“Okay, good. Hajoon’s been texting, asking what time we’ll get there,” you tell them. 

“Geez, you were already with him last night. Tell him to be patient,” Jimin rolls his eyes. 

Soomin laughs from the backseat as she teases that he’s just being jealous, to which he points out that he just hasn’t seen you in a while so the man can wait. And you assure Jimin that you’d gladly skip a night with Hajoon to be with your best friends, no questions asked. 

You get there eventually, and you immediately spot the group because of the laughter coming from their table. There are four men; the two women are Soomin’s friends, which is how you got involved with Hajoon in the first place. You met some time last year and you’ve been hanging out with him since then - among other things - and you’ve been enjoying it, given the simplicity and lack of drama when he’s not being moody. He’s a warm body who knows how to use it and you’re a good type of relief, as he’d said; there’s really not much more you need as you just try to survive through life and make something out of yourself in however way you can. 

Hajoon waves at you from his seat, gesturing to his left to say he’s saved that spot for you. You head there after greeting your other friends, with Jimin and Soomin following you. 

Right as you sit down and greet the man next to you, you’re caught by surprise when he kisses your cheek and snakes his arm around your waist. 

“Hey, I missed you today,” Hajoon hums, smiling at you the way he did last night and this morning; it definitely wasn’t this sweet when he left for a work trip last month.  

“I… saw you today,” you frown, earning you a chuckle. 

“I know; I was still thinking about you, though,” he says. 

You give a smile - as genuine as you can make it - and then turn towards your friends to your left who are trying to hold in their laughter. 

You order a beer after he offers you a glass of wine, and then go for the pork belly when he says the salmon here is good. 

“Just craving for meat, that’s all,” you tell him. 

“Is there anything else you want? Just let me know, okay?”

You hum your yes and then turn back to your friends after Hajoon makes jokes with his.

“Since when was he this sweet to you?” Soomin whispers with wide, curious eyes. 

“Since never,” you reply. “I mean, we’ve never been affectionate outside of bed…”

“Is anything else different?” Jimin wonders, careful not to bring attention to your conversation.

You look back at how things were before Hajoon left and how it was when he was away. Nothing seemed different. You hung out at his place before he flew out, then you messaged each other every now and then during the one month he was abroad. He was more interested to talk, but given the time difference and the pressure and stress you’ve been under the past weeks, you didn’t bother much, neither did he. 

But you also think back to last night - how he picked you up from your apartment, which he’s never done before, and how he prepared a luxurious dinner. He made you breakfast this morning, too, whereas you both usually just sleep in in tangled limbs and then separate once you wake up.

“He cooked me fancy stuff but I just thought he wanted to show off what he learned during his cooking masterclass,” you shrug. “And well… he seemed sweeter than normal.”

“Maybe he hooked up with someone while he was away and he’s guilty about it,” Jimin suggests.

“He didn’t say anything about it and he knows I wouldn’t mind,” you say. “We’re not exclusive, even if I don’t hang out with other guys.”

“Maybe he’s over the fucking and wants to do the loving bit now,” Soomin offers. “I mean, he always seemed more into you than you were into him.”

“He’s hot and decent when he’s in a good mood; that’s all I need,” you admit. 

“But honestly, that’s probably it,” Soomin continues. “I think he’s hinting that he wants to be more.”

“But I don’t want to,” you whine. “I’m not ready.”

“You’re 30! When are you ever gonna be ready?” Soomin whisper-yells.

“Never!” You pout now. “I mean… Not with him.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to tell him soon, then,” Jimin sighs. “Before it gets messy. And you hate messy.”

“What if men just don’t have feelings?” Soomin wonders out loud. “That way, you can’t hurt them.”

“So that way, they can hurt you?” Jimin points out. “No. I’m not letting any men hurt either one of you, okay? I love you both too much.”

“We know,” you and Soomin say at the same time. 

“But I agree with Jimin, ___. You’re gonna have to let that man next to you, who’s thankfully deaf, go. And then just find another person who can give you what you need,” Soomin continues. “Like, uh…” 

She looks around the semi-packed restaurant to find some random man to just point to, her eyes widening in awe as she spots a table close by with the type of men she was just thinking about. 

“Like them.” 

You laugh at her, not taking her seriously, but still, you look towards the direction of her cocked head, only to feel your throat dry up and your heartbeat speed up. Your eyes widen in reflex as they meet the piercing gaze of the man who’d given you a headache for weeks. He also happens to look unfairly handsome in his white top and slicked back hair. 

“Shit, I would totally go for them,” Soomin adds, “and I only even like men a quarter of the time.”

Your best friends look at you as they wait for a response, only to see a nervous look on your face, as if you’re seeing a ghost or something, and the way you turn to them and stutter almost seems like you are.

From the other table, Jungkook pants quietly. You finally looked his way, and he didn’t know what to expect your reaction to be - maybe a bit of shock, but definitely not this worried. Granted, you’re out with your friends at a restaurant that he and his friends frequent. It’s not the type of place they’d normally go for - this is a lot simpler, less private, and more accommodating than the exclusive restaurants and hotels they go to for dinners before heading to a club. But Jungkook loves their pork belly; he orders it every week, and tonight, he was craving for this specifically before going to a private party of one of Taehyung’s clients. 

Jungkook had seen you when you sat down, and he’d been taken aback when the guy to your right immediately kissed your cheek; it seems he’s barely let go of your waist since then, too. Perhaps the man is your boyfriend - and Jungkook doesn’t know what made him think you wouldn’t have one - but it also seems that the one to your left is into you, too, at least based on how he smiles at you sweetly but rolls his eyes at the affectionate guy to your other side. 

But other than the embarrassing obvious affection that both of them are directing at you, what made him lose his senses is how you look, and you’re even more beautiful than he imagined. Your hair is styled, your makeup is bolder than usual, and he won’t even start with how you’re dressed. It’s a lot more skin than he’s used to - you’re out, after all, and if he’ll go by what your companions are wearing, he supposes this is your stop before heading to some club to party, too. Whereas when you’re at work, you have the skirt and long-sleeved blouse ensemble that you wear everyday - still pretty, perhaps just a lot more reserved than what he’s seeing now. 

He can’t take his eyes off you, even as you entertain your suppose-boyfriend, even when you engage in hushed conversation with the man and woman to your left, and even when you stare back at him, the initial shock now wearing down to a look of curiosity. Perhaps you’re wondering why he keeps glancing at you, too.

“I told you he’s got it bad,” Taehyung laughs from the other side of the table. 

He’s noticed how his friend hasn’t said much in the last 10 minutes, his gaze directed at the loud table close by. One glance and Taehyung knew why. 

“Well, we told him,” Seokjin corrects. “He only ever acts out when he’s threatened and he’s apparently threatened by his pretty assistant.”

“I’m not acting out,” Jungkook scowls, finally breaking the staring contest with you.

“You’ve never been this much of a jerk,” Seokjin says. “So yes, you’re acting out.”

Jungkook ignores them, his eyes turning back to you, and finds you downing two shots of tequila consecutively, then using the beer as your chaser. His knuckles unconsciously clench when your suppose-boyfriend scoots closer, whispering something in your ear, his lips grazing your skin. 

Jungkook exhales deeply, trying to get a grip of himself. He’s acting foolishly. You obviously have a life outside of work, and it obviously includes going out for dinner and drinks with friends, having a boyfriend, and enjoying your youth the way he is. There’s a world outside of the routine you’ve both created, of the silence you both share, and the time you spend together, unknowingly learning about each other without meaning to, without wanting to.

“___,” Soomin calls your name one more time. 

“Huh?” You answer, finally tearing your eyes away from Jungkook, who’d unfortunately captured your attention after you noticed he was there. 

You’ve been used to his impeccable looks in his fancy suits; you’ve even gotten used to his tank top and sweatpants post-workout outfits every morning, and while you’re still not immune to that look, his night out wear fit for a party leaves you more choked up than normal. 

Maybe it’s the black jeans that you spot as he sits on the edge of the couch, or the white button-up top with the rolled sleeves up to his elbow, or his haircut that makes him look a little more mature. Maybe it’s all that and the way he’s gazing at you, the look in his eyes something you can’t quite read. Perhaps like you, he’s surprised to see you here the way you’re shocked that he’d chosen this place to eat; it’s not exactly a fancy restaurant you know he likes eating at. 

But he’s here, and so are you, and suddenly you feel exposed, as if the world outside of work that you’ve kept to yourself is baring open to the man who stands at the center of what you do everyday. And you’re not sure how you feel about that.

“I was just saying… those men are pretty hot and they look interested, too,” Soomin wiggles her eyebrows. “ I mean, they keep looking here.”

“One of them is my boss,” you finally say. “Guy on the right. That’s… uh, that’s Jungkook.”

“Holy fuck, hun,” Soomin chokes on her drink. “Why did you leave out the part about your rude boss being a fucking god?”

“Does it matter?” Jimin scowls. “He’s still rude.”

“It’s different when the guy’s hot. It makes the anger more intense, you know?” Soomin says. “Attractive people elicit more passionate feelings sometimes.”

“Excuse me, that’s not why I was angry,” you pout. “He was really being unfair.”

“Well, he was. But I think my point also applies,” Soomin argues. “I’d just like to warn you that workplace hotties are a menace. Except for Yoongi - he was heaven sent. ”

“Ah, the man who could’ve been,” Jimin sighs. “We at least knew he wouldn’t hurt you. He didn’t seem like the type.”

“Yeah, this dude over here is hot but he’s mean. And that’s your type,” Soomin smirks.

“Can we… not talk about this while he’s there? And while this other dude is right next to me?” You glare at your friends, especially at Soomin whose insinuation wasn’t lost on you. “It’s so… weird.”

“Hey, we’re here for you, okay?” Jimin softens as he looks at you. “Just let us know if one of them makes you feel uncomfortable. We can always just stay at your place and watch horror movies until morning and you and Soomin can lose your voices from screaming and then I’ll lose my hearing because of it.”

His words make you laugh. There’s a tenderness in Jimin that you’ve never heard from anyone else before. Even when he’s telling you to stop yelling because you live for the thrill of a jumpscare, he says it so tenderly while laughing before pulling you both in his embrace. 

“I’m okay. I’m just… I don’t know, probably just not used to seeing him somewhere that isn’t the office or his home,” you reason. “And I feel a bit exposed, I guess. This is my world and his is… right there.”

You wrap your arms around your body subconsciously, realizing only you’d done it when Jimin asks if you’re cold, offering his jacket then taking it back because Hajoon might smack him or something.

You turn it down, knowing you actually feel hot more than anything. You’re dressed up and definitely dressed in less, and somehow having Jungkook see you like this is oddly making you shy, perhaps a little too conscious.

“Just don’t mind him,” Soomin advises. “It’s a restaurant. You obviously have a social life and he can’t fault you for it, nor make you feel weird about it. Just focus on us, okay? Or on Hajoon, if that’ll happen.”

You follow her words and try to block out Jungkook. You do slightly nod at him, as well as at Taehyung and Seokjin just to acknowledge their presence, but you continue on with your meal, as the dishes arrive soon after. 

The pork belly is a winner; you’ll probably come back here for that alone. You do manage to dodge Hajoon’s attempts at feeding you, and your other friends engage with the three of you at the other end of the table. It’s going well for the most part, until Hajoon starts to act a little wary, a little tense.

“Hey,” he says, leaning close to you. “The guy on the other table has been looking at you all night. It’s kinda annoying.”

You glance at Jungkook’s table and he looks away when you do. “Oh, just don’t mind him,” you wave Hajoon off. “Maybe I remind him of someone or something.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you feel him tense even more, as you look up and see that he’s staring down the man on the other side. Hajoon’s had a bit to drink, and you know he tends to be cocky and irrational when he is. You groan once he shakes his head, saying he’s gonna give “that stranger” a piece of his mind because “he can’t be looking at my girl like that.”

The initial annoyance you feel turns into panic once he stands from his seat and storms to the other table. You follow him, with your friends just looking in worry. His friends are more encouraging of what he wants to do though. 

“What the fuck is your problem staring at my girl like that?” Hajoon mumbles, acting all tough when he’s never threatened nor confronted anyone like this, even when he’s drunk. 

Jungkook seems taken aback. Perhaps it’s the aggression he didn’t expect, or maybe it’s finally having to acknowledge your presence in the restaurant, just in an unfortunate way. 

“Your girl?” He scoffs. 

The way the man is speaking to him is quite annoying, but he also knows your boyfriend is slightly drunk, so he dismisses him because Jungkook doesn’t need this drama tonight, especially not in front of you. 

Hajoon hates the way this stranger is looking at him and not taking him seriously. He’d seen how he kept glancing at you, perhaps trying to get your attention away from him, and he’s really had enough. His words are slurring but this is the courage he needs to stand up for you. You’ve said before how unwanted attention makes you uncomfortable, and he’s gonna do something about it before the man gets to try anything with you. 

“Yeah, my girl. You seem to have a problem with that, don’t you?” Hajoon grunts. 

“My only problem is you making a scene right now,” Jungkook shakes his head. “You’re drunk and insecure and you’re embarrassing yourself in front of your girl.”

Not that you expected him to back off, but you didn’t actually think that Jungkook would further press Hajoon’s buttons. The man is drunk and insecure and indeed embarrassing, but getting told so is a blow to the ego, especially in your presence. And so you’re not surprised that this just makes him angrier, and since you’ve never dealt with this version of him before, you don’t know how to pacify him.

You didn’t actually think that Hajoon had a daring bone in his body despite being the way he is, but when he attempts to lunge at Jungkook, you’re left in disbelief. You’re quick enough to pull Hajoon back before he lands a fist on the other man’s face, but he’d been worked up enough that he hits the glass of wine on the table, knocking it over and causing the drink to spill on Jungkook’s thin white top. 

“Mr. Jeon!” You shriek, pulling Hajoon back more forcefully before pushing him to the side so you can get ahead. 

You take the napkin from the table and wipe Jungkook’s wet clothed torso, slowing down immediately as you realize what exactly it is you’re doing. 

“I… uh,” you stutter, standing straight up and mirroring his questioning eyes. 

It was a reflex for you, considering that you constantly make sure that he’s dressed impeccably. 

“You know him?!” Hajoon asks in disbelief, tugging on your hand now so you’ll turn to him.

“He’s my boss, you idiot!” smacking him on the chest as you glare at him. “And you just put my job in jeopardy and for what?”

“Well, what can he do?” Hajoon challenges. “Get you fired because of me? Does he own the company and shit?”

“My father does,” Jungkook responds. “And I’m the Vice President.”

Hajoon just rolls his eyes but you aren’t amused. You glance at your table and gesture for one of his friends to take him, so one of them does. He stands up and pulls Hajoon away before he can do or say anything else.

“I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your head bowed down as you apologize. “I…” 

The mess on his outfit is too much; the red has stained the white top and you know he feels sticky. He looks like he has somewhere to go after this and that makes it worse.

“I– I can call Mr. Ri to get the car in here. I can get extra clothes from your travel bag,” you say, knowing that Jungkook always has a bag filled with clothes for emergency flights or check-ins. 

You get your phone and make a call, telling Jungkook that his chauffeur will be here soon. You glance towards your friends who are still pacifying a drunk Hajoon, and you decide that they can handle all that. Right now, your priority is Jungkook.

You walk out towards the car that’s on hazard mode outside the restaurant and pick out the top that’s most appropriate for a night out, which happens to be a semi-loose black button-up. You head back inside, with Taehyung and Seokjin informing you that Jungkook has gone to the washroom, so you scurry towards there and knock at the door.

“Mr. Jeon, I have your black long sleeves here,” you say as your knuckles tap on the wood. “Just tell me–” 

You’re interrupted by the sudden opening of the door, the sight of Jungkook in his jeans hanging by his waist and his unbuttoned white top catching you by surprise. His hair’s a bit damp and so is his bare torso, as you see that he’s tried to clean the wine off his body. 

You catch yourself looking longer than you should, and you immediately look away as you hand him over what he needs. 

“Please let me know what else you need, sir,” you say, your eyes glued to the pretty wallpaper as you awkwardly stand outside the washroom. 

“Jungkook,” he says, earning him a curious look. “I mean, you don’t need to be formal. We’re not at work.”

You nod, realizing it does sound weird to address him as such in a casual setting. 

“Okay… Jungkook,” you mumble, but even the way it rolls off your tongue is a bit odd. You’re not used to it, and you hope you won’t ever be. 

He closes the door and you take this time to calm yourself down. You’ve been so worried since you saw the glass tip over and mess up his outfit, and given his hot-headedness, you’re a little surprised that he didn’t fight back. He does have a reputation to uphold but even then, stopping himself from punching Hajoon must’ve taken a lot. 

The door opens and you sigh in relief; his outfit still looks good and he’s fully clothed, so there’s no lingering looks this time anymore. You take the top that he gives you, and you take the chance to apologize.

“I’m so sorry,” you start. “I don’t know why he— I mean, he’s a bit drunk and he’s not usually like this.”

“You’re not the one who should apologize so don’t,” he responds. 

“Well, he won’t apologize so I will.”

“You didn’t spill the drink and you didn’t come at me. That was him,” he counters. 

You just shrug, choosing to just concede. “I’ll just return this to Mr. Ri.”

He calls your name before you turn around to leave. 

“I didn’t mean to cause a rift between you and your boyfriend,” he says, much too low and too gentle than you’re used to. “I hope I didn’t ruin anything.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you answer softly. “We just, uh, we just hang out.”

You don’t know why you feel the need to correct this misinformation. Maybe you just want to remind yourself because you’re not anyone’s anything; hearing Hajoon claim you as yours made you want to just create that distance even more.

Jungkook wants to push it, to ask more. The man clearly acts like he’s your lover, given the physical affection and the way he tried to stand up for you. But there’s a bit of shame as you state that you and the man “just hang out,” and there’s that wonder he feels - how can you be with someone without being with them, and if turning away people who are clearly into you is a tendency you have. There’s Min Yoongi, after all, who’d liked you enough to remain as your friend when you needed one despite how he felt.  

“Okay then,” Jungkook nods. “And your job’s not in jeopardy. Don’t take responsibility for a stupid act you didn’t do.”

You bow in thanks, not much used to this side of him that’s understanding and even calm. You suppose he’d seen you worry about your job, had seen you look embarrassed over something that you didn’t even do, and perhaps he saw the discomfort over how Hajoon was talking about you. 

You’re about to walk out of the hallway when his call of your name stops you again, prompting you to turn around.

“About earlier… did I… did I make you feel uncomfortable?” He asks, the worry in his voice surprising you. 

You debate over playing it down or telling the truth, but you go with the latter. 

“A… a little,” you admit, looking away. 

You hear him sigh, and there’s a look of guilt in his eyes as you turn to him. 

“I’m so—”

The footsteps of another diner in the hallway disrupts him, and you both make way so he can use the washroom, too. Perhaps you and Jungkook had taken so long, and you don’t want others to conspire about what’s happening, so you walk out and tell him again that you’ll just return his clothing to Mr. Ri. 

From your table, Soomin and Jimin watch the awkwardness of your parting of ways, with you scurrying out the door and Jungkook returning to his seat with a deep sigh before glaring at Hajoon.

“He does sound and look like an asshole, aside from being hot,” Soomin observes. “That’s totally ___’s type.”

“Are you saying she likes her boss?” Jimin asks incredulously. 

“I’m just saying that’s her type, not that she likes him,” Soomin corrects. “There’s a difference. I still hate him for making things hard for her. I wish he would stop treating her like that. You and I know she won’t quit anytime soon. Especially because he’s a Jeon.”

“I know,” Jimin sighs. “I wish we could protect her from all this, too. But she’s always done what she wanted to do. And we wait for her to tell us when things are hard; we just hold her hand whenever it is.”

“That’s all we can do, I guess,” Soomin responds. “Sometimes though I wish she’d just… let someone else do more than just hold her hand, you know? It could’ve been Yoongi, or even Hajoon before all this mess. It could’ve been you.”

“You know that’ll never happen,” Jimin laughs bitterly, with Soomin knowing exactly what he means. “You’re only ever just her friend or her lover; you can’t be both.”

Soomin hums in agreement, as she’d seen you draw the line with the men you’d come across with. You’d make it clear if friendship is all you want; you’d be straightforward if it’s just sex you’re seeking. You give either just your heart or your body and you’re always careful not to give both. There are parts of you that you don’t want to share, that you don’t want to expose to them; there’s a kind of hurt that you don’t want to experience. 

They watch you walk back inside and then head to their table, where you sit next to a buzzed Hajoon who still has half a mind to look at you guiltily. 

“I think I’ll head back home after this,” you tell the group. “Kinda not in a partying mood anymore.”

Your other friends apologize on Hajoon’s behalf, proceeding to ask you if that was really your boss and if he’d threatened your job because of it, remarking that it would be such an asshole move of him to do that or to even get mad at you for something you didn’t do. 

You come to Jungkook’s defense; he didn’t say anything to that effect at all. Perhaps you’d been the unfair one who assumed that he would - that he’d demand that you apologize, that he’d use this against you. 

“He’s… not like that,” you say, meaning it. You turn to your best friends who have disagreeing looks. “He… he tried to apologize for making me feel uncomfortable,” you say softly. “No one’s ever done that before.”

“Look, ___,” Hajoon starts, but you cut him off. 

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” you sigh. “I’ll just pay my bill and head out.”

You, Soomin, and Jimin all pay accordingly and then leave the restaurant, with you turning to Jungkook and his friends, bowing as a form of goodbye.

“Hey, why don’t we buy desserts at a convenience store and have our own party at your place?” Jimin suggests as you all settle in his car. 

“That would be nice,” you hum. “This outfit wouldn’t be such a waste then.”

So that’s what you do, as your best friends treat you to all the snacks you love - a usual occurrence, really, as they used to do that back in Busan to cheer you up during the days when you were feeling sad. It’s one of the things that you allow them to spoil you with and they take advantage of that, as you go home with weeks’ worth of goods for you to enjoy.

You also picked up some drinks on the way, so you play some music and dance around with your wine glasses and take shots in between. It’s too early to be drunk but 11PM might as well be 3AM. You’re all seated snugly in your tiny couch as you watch some variety show on mute, laughing at the hosts' antics even if you can’t hear anything. 

“Tonight wasn’t so bad,” you huff, leaning on Soomin’s shoulder as you doze off. “Both of you are all I need. Thank you for never disappointing me.”

They know you don’t always let yourself be this sentimental. They also know that when you do, all you want is for them to listen and to hold you. And that’s what they do, as you eventually clean up and fall asleep on the mattress with them, the events from earlier slowly fading away.

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[moonstruckme]

Hi!!! I saw you did a poly!marauders with a plus!dive reader who’s insecure…

Can you write one where the reader is shying away from intimacy with the boys because they’re insecure and feeling ick about their body? Like not just sex but also physical touch like hugs or especially sitting on their laps? It can include smut too if you’d like!

I’m feeling pretty ick about my size rn and the fix really helped me! Thank u sm for your writing

Thanks sm for requesting lovely! I hope you start to feel better soon <33

cw: insecurity around size/weight, talk of traditional beauty standards

poly!marauders x plus size!reader ♡ 1.3k words

The funny thing is, the boys have been wearing away at your instincts for months. It’s no conscious effort for them, but for you it’s impossible not to notice. Before you got together, you’d been used to shying away from nearly every touch. You rarely hugged anyone, kissed only chastely, and shunned most physical intimacy. But though they’ve gone about it in a gentlemanly way, never putting pressure on you, your boyfriends have slowly changed that. Now hardly a day goes by without James having had his arm around your waist, Remus raking casual touches up your leg, or Sirius turning a kiss into a feely makeout. 

Unfortunately, you still have your bad days. Earlier this week you’d looked too long into the mirror, and of course found a dozen things to hate about your body, and hadn’t wanted any of the boys to touch you since. When Sirius’ hand had smoothed over your lower back yesterday, skimming the rolls of fat at your sides, you’d almost thought you’d be sick before you could get away from him. You couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d feel there, what he’d think of you when he did. You’re not stupid; you know your boyfriends can see you, but touching is something different. What they probably want to feel isn’t what you have to offer, perfectly smooth skin and sloping, gentle curves. It sometimes feels like you’re keeping the secret of your true form from them, and if they discover it they’ll see you the same way you do. 

“So, what’s the big secret?” Sirius asks as you come into the common room. All three boys are tangled up on the couch, and the other two turn to look when he calls out to you. 

You give him a bemused sort of smile, perching on the armrest next to James. Careful not to put much of your weight on it. “What do you mean?” 

“Don’t play coy.” Sirius narrows his eyes at you playfully. “I saw you whispering with Evans earlier, glancing at us all mischievously. What’re you two up to?” 

You have to bite down on your smile. Sirius’ birthday is coming up, and you and Lily are in charge of his surprise party plans. James and Remus are involved too, of course, but it’s far easier for you and Lily to speak about it in your dorm at night, whereas your boyfriends hardly get any time apart to partake in secret plans. 

“Oh,” you say breezily, “that was nothing. She was asking if we’re going to hogsmeade tomorrow. I told her we are.” 

James smiles at you conspiratorially, bringing a hand to your thigh and rubbing up and down in silent support. You almost have a heart attack. You place your hand hastily atop his, intertwining your fingers as cover for your panicked response. James doesn’t seem unhappy with the change, resting his head against your arm as he strokes his thumb across the back of your hand. 

“Should we make it a study session in hogsmeade?” Remus asks, neatly keeping the subject away from Sirius’ party. “We’ve all got that potions paper due Monday.” 

“I’ve finished,” you admit, “but I’m still open to studying if you guys want to.” 

Remus rewards you with a smile as Sirius rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Show-off,” he mutters. 

“Shut up, Pads,” James says, always looking for any opportunity to take your side over Sirius’. He grabs your waist before you can stop him, tugging you off the armrest. 

No sooner do you land on his lap than you’re springing to your feet. “James!” you cry, batting at his hands when they reach to pull you back. “You can’t just do that, I’ll crush you!”  

Thick eyebrows fly up past the rims of James’ glasses and disappear behind his curls. “I’m sorry,” he says, in a tone that clearly means the opposite, “do you really think I’m so weak that I’ll crumble from you sitting on my lap?”

“It’s not—”

“Fucking hell,” Sirius cuts in, looking horrified, “if you think James can’t handle you, what do you think of Remus and I?”

“I’ll bench press you right now,” James insists, trying to push the other boys aside so he has room to lay down. “Come here, lovie, we’ll see who’s weak.” 

The laugh that emerges from your throat borders on hysterical. “I wasn’t trying to say that anyone here was weak, okay? I just…” There’s no good way to phrase that last part, and you think for a moment to simply leave it there, but Remus leans forward, setting his elbows on his knees with an expression that clearly reads go on. “I know I’m not, like, a tiny delicate bird,” you laugh, aiming for flippancy. 

No one laughs with you. 

“But I don’t need any of you to respond to that,” you hurry to say. “I know it’s a weird subject, and there’s, like, no right way, really, to…to respond.” You trail off dumbly, wishing desperately that you’d never broached the subject in the first place. 

After a moment of silence, you chance a glance up, but one look at Sirius’ visage, bordering on outraged, has your gaze defaulting back to your lap. “Sorry,” you say in a small voice. “Can we forget about it?” 

“That’s alright, love.” Remus' voice is dulcet, so low you would never normally have heard him if the other two boys weren’t so uncharacteristically silent. “Listen, we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, but can I just say something?” 

You look up to nod at him, finding his countenance equal parts troubled and patient. His mouth is pursed like he’s worried that if he’s not careful, the wrong words will come flying out. At your nod of assent, he speaks, clearly and firmly. 

“I don’t want you to look like a bird.” 

You almost laugh again, it’s such an absurd declaration, but Remus’ expression is serious. “You know what I mean, though,” you say, lifting a shoulder like this conversation is nothing to you. “I know what guys want. I’m not that.” 

“Bullshit,” Sirius says, and Remus’ lips twitch upward at your boyfriend’s brash tongue. “You’re just gonna lump us in with all guys? Do all girls want the exact same thing too?” You go to protest, but he talks over you, fuming. “Golden boys, tall with blond hair, blue eyes, and an eight-pack of abs, right? Is that what you wish we looked like?”

“Of course not.” You’re tripping over yourself in your denial. “I wouldn’t—I don’t want you to look any other way.” 

“But you can see his point, can’t you?” Remus asks gently. “If we each only liked what we’re told is most attractive, a face full of scars probably wouldn’t be on the top of that list.” You must look as devastated as you feel, because Remus’ lips pull up in a reassuring half-smile, the long scar across his cheek flashing silver with the movement. “Does that matter to you?”

Your voice is quiet; chastened, but ardent. “No. Not at all.” 

“So perhaps you can imagine,” James says, raising his eyebrows at you teasingly, “how if you can look at us and find things to love, we can do the same with you.” You gnaw on your lip, and his brows come slowly back down. 

“Don’t,” Sirius says sternly. “Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking. You’re gorgeous, and we like you like this.” His eyes bore into yours, insistent. “You can’t make our decisions for us about which parts of you we’re allowed to like, understand?” 

James nods, extending his hands to you. “Would you come sit with me, angel? Only if you want to, of course,” he adds at your hesitance, “but please don’t refrain because you’re worried about anything to do with me.” 

You give him an assessing look. “Alright,” you say, perching on his lap. “Just tell me if you want me to get off.” 

“Will do, darling.” James grips the fat of your hips, hauling you onto him so that your feet leave the floor and your full weight is on him. “Not much danger of that, though.” 

“Honestly,” Remus hums, pulling your legs across his lap so that you’re sitting sideways on James, “the day one of us says we want you to look more like a bird, run, sweetheart. Someone’s using polyjuice or something.”

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 15

Emily Prentiss x reader Warnings: language, smut eluded to/mentioned, mainly a filler chapter taking place in the days directly following the last chapter.

Rolling over Emily felt her body sink even deeper into your mattress, the blankets cocooned perfectly around her and she felt more relaxed than she had all week. She heard the all to familiar creak of your shower tap as it turned off and she let out a quiet groan, she’d forgotten it was Monday. With a reluctantly huff she pushed herself up to sitting, starting to change out of the pyjamas you’d leant her back into the clothes she’d tossed into a spare chair.

“You could’ve stayed sleeping.” Your voice quietly broke through the room as you re-entered it, clad in only your underwear as you stepped toward your closet.

“It’s fine.” She pinched at the bridge of her nose, “I’ve got a mountain of paperwork I need to get a start on.”

“My grocery order got delayed thanks to the weather, best I can offer you is a frozen waffle.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She chuckled, “I usually grab something on the way in anyways.”

“Good.” You turned to her with a grin, “cause I’m pretty sure they’re past the best by date.”

Emily laughed, shaking her head at you, her eyes lingering on your semi naked frame longer than she had originally intended. Your phone pinged and the hanger in your hand dropped to the bed as you picked up the device, your attention fully on it as you face her. It was then Emily noticed the deep purple nearly black bruise on your thigh and she was about to make a comment about your tennis skills until her eyes focused and she realized there was a clear line of teeth marks on the outer edge. Her mind thought back to the previous evening, the band-aid on  your arm mixed with this was a clear sign you’d had some fun in Florida.

“Ugh.” You dropped your phone down on the nightstand, picking up the shirt and putting it on, “you think some people would have the decency to wait past eight a.m. to start planning a date.”

“Date?” Her brow raised in your direction and you let out a huff, stepping into a pencil skirt, quickly fixing your outfit before grabbing a pair of heels.

“Yeah. Heather needed specific support for a legislation and I got roped into going on a date with this congressman’s kid. You flirt a little and they’ll take it a whole other direction.”

She followed you down the stairs, beginning to wonder just how much fun you’d had in Florida, “that a regular occurrence?”

“Depends. Most of the time it’s only dinner or drinks with the added bragging rights of being seen together.” You shrugged, “you want a coffee to go?”

“Yeah, sure.”

It only took you a few seconds to pour her out a mug, fixing it perfectly to her liking before handing it to her.

“Thanks.” She smiled at you, her shoulders relaxing once again when you smiled right back at her.

“I’ll see you Wednesday?”

“Yeah, of course.” With another smile she turned back toward the door, collecting her coat and stepping into her shoes.

“And Emily?” You called out, poking your head around the corner.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t ever feel bad about calling or showing up, okay? I’d hate for you to be alone at home trapped with whatever haunting thoughts are running through your brain after a bad case.”

“Okay.” She laughed softly a warmth spreading through her cheeks.

“I mean it. And if you’re too dragged down or drunk to drive, I’ll knock down your door. I know it’s difficult being the boss, but you’ve gotta remember, you’re important too.”

“Thank you, really.” Stepping toward the door she pulled it open, grimacing at the view outside, “and you promise me you’re gonna drive safe, it looks like shit out here.”

“I will.”

*

Emily had been right, the roads were pretty terrible, making your commute longer and worse than you’d expected. You’d shot a text off to Heather about running late and she told you not to worry about it, she’d rather have you take your time and arrive in one piece than rush and risk something happening. You were stuck at a light you’d been waiting three rotations at already when your phone buzzed in the cupholder. Picking it up you assumed it was another text from Heather to find that it was your Venmo app, a hundred dollar payment received from Emily.

A weird sensation wormed its way into your stomach and for a moment you thought maybe you’d accidentally used spoiled milk in your coffee. The screen remained on your phone, glaring up at you in the low morning light, and you tugged your lip between your teeth as the wheels started turning in your brain. You knew what your agreement was, you’d signed and added to the contract after all, one hundred dollars for anything that was akin to a casual dinner or simple companionship. In your mind, that meant something like going out to a movie, having lunch during a relaxed weekend, running errands together so you didn’t have to do it alone. Your thumb hovered over the ‘refund’ button, it almost felt weird taking money from Emily for something like her needing comfort, she’d needed a friend or something more in that moment, not a client. Right as you were about to make an impulsive decision, the light changed and the car behind you laid on their horn, causing you to drop your phone back into the cupholder and forget about it for the time being.

Thankfully the rest of the way to the office was relatively clear and you managed to make record time, collecting your things and making your way inside. You thought it was time for a quiet morning, not a lot of people around the building, but right as you passed Heather’s office her voice called out.

“Hey!”

Freezing in your step, you winced, slowly backtracking to her door, “sorry, I did my best.”

“Sweetheart with the quality of work you do I couldn’t give a fuck if you were late.” She opened a drawer of her desk, pulling out a couple of things, “c’mere.” You almost hesitantly entered her office, crossing the space to her desk as she grinned up at you, extending a sealed envelope, “from Rob.”

“Oh, perfect.” You tucked it into your bag.

“You alright?” She asked, surveying you for a minute.

“Yeah, drive just frazzled me a little bit.”

“Okay.” She glanced down to your purse, “are you going to open that?”

“It’s basically only for my peace of mind anyways. I’ll let you know if there’s any wildly shocking results.”

“Better hope you’re not pregnant, I’m not raising another one.”

“God you are such a comedian, and at this hour of the morning. Just how do you do it?”

“Anymore sass and you’re not getting the other thing I have in here for you.”

“Oh?”

She chuckled softly, pulling out a small box from the drawer and handing it to you, “good job in Florida. You really upped your game.”

“Thank you.”

“On the contrary, I should be thanking you.”

“Isn’t that what this is?” You gestured to the gift box.

“That’s for last week.”

“Then…what are you thanking me for?”

“Keeping the appropriate kind of secrets from me at the appropriate time.” She smiled, “Now go on,” she shooed you away, “you’ve got more important things to do than stand around gossiping.”

**

Despite not calling the team in until Wednesday, Emily found herself back at the office midday Monday, working through as much as she could to make sure every report she handed off to Bailey had an excruciating amount of detail with all the I’s dotted and t’s crossed.

Tuesday she stayed stationed at her desk the entire day, working well into the evening, thanking the desk clerk for bringing up multiple rounds of take out so she wasn’t surviving on coffee alone. It was a heavy paperwork week, there were a handful of invoices still sitting in her inbox she needed to explain what were for and sign off on before sending them up the chain, payroll needed to be completed and her inventory needed to be double checked and sent off. With the team coming back in tomorrow she was hoping she could get most of it done by noon considering once their paperwork was done she needed to sign off on it before it went up the chain and there was always the chance of them catching another case. She was starting to wish she’d pushed them coming back until Thursday at this point.

Her phone buzzed on her desk and she glanced up, honestly welcome for the intrusion as she blinked her eyes a few times, pushing her glasses up onto her head as she dropped her pen, flexing her hand in an attempt to relieve the cramp. Picking up her phone she was surprised to see Heather’s name flash across the screen and she quickly swiped open the message.

‘Sorry to bother you, I know you’re likely busy as all hell but I would love to get your professional opinion on something sometime this week.’

‘Yeah, of course. What are your office hours looking like this week? I’m probably going to be swamped tomorrow but could manage to disappear for a midday so called lunch.’

‘I was thinking more along the lines of after hours. Any chance you think you could swing by my place Thursday around eight? I promise you’ll be sent home with a to go plate from dinner and a bottle of Macallan.’

‘Oh well, twist my rubber arm why don’t you.’ Emilylaughed softly, ‘send me the address again, I know you’re Chevy Chase but can’t remember much past that.’

‘You’re a gem. Thank you.’  ‘3301 Fessenden St NW’

Emily put down the phone, picking up the pen to scribble the address into her desk calendar, chewing on her thumbnail as she looked through all the notes written down. Her eyes landed on the green ink on Wednesday evening and she let out a small huff before picking up her phone again, selecting your contact.

‘Hey, I know we scheduled for Wednesday but do you think there’s any chance we can push it to the weekend, Saturday even? It’s payroll week and quarterly end and I didn’t quite realize how much I’d let pile up.’

She waited a few minutes, taking the opportunity to continue with her break, scrolling through a few apps and replying to another couple of personal text messages in the meantime before her phone buzzed once again.

‘Fucking hell I forgot about fucking payroll.’ ‘Yeah the weekend is totally fine. And don’t stress about making a reservation or anything yet, if you’re too wiped when the time comes we can just wait til next week, I won’t be offended.’

‘Alright.’ She laughed softly, ‘I’ll pencil you in for Saturday then?’

‘Sounds perfect.’

‘Why are you worrying about payroll?’

‘Heather’s PA is on vacation; I’ve been covering the more complicated duties while she’s gone.’

‘Pain the ass, hey?’

‘Absolutely. When you’re a kid you think being the boss is gonna be the coolest thing, turns out it’s all paperwork.’

‘Tell me about it.’

She let out a small laugh, placing her phone back down on the desk as she let out a small sigh and slid her glasses back on. If she was going to keep adding to her week, she better pick up right where she left off.

**

The sound of the doorbell echoed through the Dunbar household on Thursday evening and Rob was the one who got to there first, pulling it open to enthusiastically greet Emily.

“Hey, come in, come in.” He gestured, swinging the door shut behind her, “it’s been a while.”

“It really has.” She laughed softly, accepting the brief one armed hug while he offered to take her coat and she was able to toe off her snow coated shoes.

“How’s the bureau? Heat tells me you’ve moved up to Section Chief?”

“Oh, entirely too much paperwork and definitely not enough fun.”

“Sounds like you need a vacation.” He half teased before calling down the hall, “Heat, you’ve got company.”

It only took a couple of seconds before Heather had rounded a corner down the long hall, actively wiping her hands off on a dish towel as she approached them.

“Thank you so much for coming.” Leaning in she pressed a kiss to her cheek, “there’s straight liquor and wine upstairs but we’ve got mojito and negroni’s going in the kitchen if you prefer.”

“Wine is fine.” Emily assured and Heather turned to her husband, passing off the dish towel.

“Would you make sure you pack up a nice container from dinner for her, and don’t skimp! Lord knows she’s been living off small town takeout.”

“Double portions of everything, got it.” Rob replied with a small salute to his wife before disappearing down the same hall.

Heather’s hand quickly pressed on the small of Emily’s back, directing her up the stairs, “sorry it’s a bit chaotic in here tonight.” She commented, no doubt addressing the amount of noise bouncing around through the house. “You’d think two kids coming home for dinner would mean just that and maybe some laundry but Jordan’s taken over the basement entertainment system with a group of his friends, Becca’s got a mock Jeopardy battle going on to help study for winter exams and Rob’s entertaining one of the biggest hospital owners in the State.”

“Sounds like none of you Dunbar’s know how to rest.” Emily teased, following Heather into her home office.

“I would say the work ethic’s in the genes but I’m pretty sure the boys are playing Grand Theft Auto downstairs.” She turned back around, handing off a hefty glass of wine to the other woman, “how about you? Have things calmed down at all?”

“In the sense of field work, I guess. But the paperwork never stops and it’s just so dull.” She groaned, “I really don’t know how you keep up with your workload.”

“I’ve got a rather large and very talented and committed team, most of whom I raised from the ground up.”

Emily nodded, her ears picking up the sound of stilettos on the hardwood, almost like they were pacing up and down the hallway, another dinner companion that seemed to be on the phone, little hums and huffs every so often until your voice hit her ears. She could just make it out over the small talk her and Heather continued to have before diving into things. You were using a sickeningly sweet yet also a completely dominating voice that Emily had never heard before. There was a husk to it, but it also sounded like utter silk and she was practically melting, her attention drifting from Heather’s voice more than she meant it to.

You’d been approaching Heather’s office to use to finish up your private conversation but once you made it a foot from the door you realized that she had company. Trying both not to interrupt and also not be clearly overheard depending on her guest, you lingered in the doorway as you talked.

“Ohohoho..” you let out a low laugh, “come on now Frank, you know Ms. Dunbar needs this done by the end of the week, I’m sure you have even the tiniest sliver of time to squeeze us in. How about I get us a table at Palm Court? You know I’ll be sure to have the Wagyu flown in from Kagoshima, just like you like it.” You barely let a beat pass, “don’t you worry about Claire, I’ll keep her nice and busy, it’s been a while since we’ve met up and lord knows I need a fresh manicure.”

Feeling cocky enough that you’d sealed the deal you made the slow steps towards Heather’s door, keeping your voice quiet enough to not disturb her conversation.

“That’s what I thought. Thank you.”

Heather glanced up at the sound of success in your voice as you stepped into the office and small smirk overtook her lips. Emily watched as you dropped the façade, your body relaxing though you still absolute exuded power and confidence. Rather than a cute little skirt and top, she figured it was the weather that made you opt for the very form fitting pant suit, white tank blouse dipping just below your collarbone to leave enough for imagination but entice everyone, blazer likely strewn somewhere else in the house. You crossed the room, tossing Heather’s work cell down onto her desk.

“Underwood will meet you at two on Friday.”

“I—What?” It was Emily’s voice that cut in first and you glanced toward her with a grin on your cheeks.

“What?”

“You’re on first name basis with The President?”

“Part of the job.” You shrugged, “besides, his wife always has the best gossip.”

Emily practically gaped, looking between you and Heather, watching the other woman chuckle softly.

“See what I mean? She wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight, showed up to finish this deal for me because I wasn’t answering my phone.”

“Yeah…” She nodded, still a little dumbfounded by the entire thing. She knew you were well intermingled with varying levels of politicians but she hadn’t expected something of this magnitude. Then again, when her eyes surveyed over you once more, she could see the sheer amount of power just drifting off you, the only time she’d seen you in work mode before was the very first day she met you and she was starting to realize why Heather had teased her for drooling.

You cast her a smile before turning back to your boss now that she had sat behind her desk “I’ve done by due diligence tonight, but I’m finished babysitting. Becca’s gonna ace her exams, Rob’s sweeping the floor at poker, but your other kid’s an idiot, they’re daring each other to a bellyflop competition.”

“They took the cover off the pool?” Heather groaned, pinching at the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah. A hundred bucks says the hot tub’s next.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Good thing there’s a slew of doctors in the house.” You teased and Heather rolled her eyes as you turned to Emily, squeezing at her elbow with a bright smile, “good to see you. I love that colour.” Your fingers toyed with the lapel of her blazer and a glinting in the low light caught her eye, an absolutely stunning cluster of diamonds and yellow gold on your wrist, “it looks phenomenal on you.”

“Thanks.” She smiled, her breath nearly catching in her throat as she glanced up at you and you smiled, turning back to Heather.

“You owe me, big.”

“What? Twenty three grand wasn’t enough?” She asked with a tease and you rolled your eyes as you started to make your way out of the room.

“I refuse to pawn gifts, you know that.” You called over your shoulder, “so don’t you dare make me work Christmas.”

“You don’t even celebrate the holidays.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like bonus time off,” you turned, resting your hand on the doorframe, bracelet sparkling, “maybe even a few days at one of the plethora of vacation bundles you have stocks in?”

“Thought you said you were done working and thus, done bothering me? Sometimes I regret giving you your own key!”

Heather raised a brow, laughing when all you did in return was flip her off and disappear from her view. Emily chuckled, finally taking a sip of her wine, though her eyes lingered on the doorway as if she could still see the diamonds glinting.

“Something catch your eye?” Heather asked with a smirk and she finally turned back to her, gently dropping into a chair.

“Uh, guess I hadn’t seen her in work mode in a while.” She admitted, feeling her cheeks heat, “didn’t realize she accessorized so well.”

“You like the bracelet?”

“Yeah, it’s stunning.”

“Harry Winston.”

“Damn.” Emily’s eyes widened, “they don’t even list the prices on the website, you’ve got to go in.”

Heather shrugged, “she worked hard for it. Florida certainly earned her a little extra winter bonus.”

“Huh…” Emily nodded, going to take another sip of her wine right as everything managed to click together like puzzle pieces. She quickly masked herself before her eyes could widen again, sucking back more wine as a distraction. A strange sensation began to twist in her lower stomach, one that she didn’t really like at all but it continued to grow as she thought about the woman across the desk from her buried between your legs.

Heather surveyed her for a moment as she took a sip of her own bourbon and she could have sworn she saw the tiniest hint of green flash through her dark eyes. Her head tilted slightly, the sudden way Emily was picking at her thumbnail was speaking pretty clearly but now she was wondering if you had shown up on purpose, flaunting the jewelry. You’d mentioned something to her earlier in the week about Emily cancelling a date, perhaps the grey haired woman wasn’t the only one with green in her eyes.

“Anway,” Heather interrupted with a huff, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, right.” Emily snapped out of it, glancing up towards her with a smile, “what’s up?”

“Have you heard of an Officer Patterson, out of DC Metro?”

“I—uh..” Emily nearly tensed, briefly remembering the very early phone call in your kitchen a few months prior, “heard of him…”

“He was the one that arrested my son.”

“You.. know about that?”

Heather chuckled, “Jordan’s an idiot, neither he nor his friends can keep a secret very long.” She sighed, “I did a look through the papers, this guy’s a prick. I thought he was just preying on the rich and somewhat famous but he does the same shit with people who can’t afford a good attorney. I want his badge.”

“Don’t you have a lot more power than I do when it comes to that kind of stuff?”

“Potentially.” She took a swig of her drink, “I just figured you might have some contacts at Metro PD who had their own stories or opinions, I know the blue doesn’t like to turn on their own but there has to be a reason this guy’s still a rookie after all these years. Thought you might be able to pull his jacket, take a look through it?”

“You really don’t let people fuck with your family, huh?” Emily asked and Heather nearly snorted.

“Jordan deserved what he got,” she laughed, “he’s damn lucky he wasn’t behind the wheel of a car. I don’t want his arrest expunged or shoved under the rug; I could have done that myself. But I do want to look into this Patterson and see what can be done about it.”

“I’ve got a couple of friends and Metro, and I can see what I can pull up from my database.”

“Thank you.” Heather smiled warmly, her eyes darting up when there was a knock on the doorframe.

“Bad news, I’ve gotta take one of Jordan’s friends in.” Rob said.

“Oh god, what now?”

“They tried to use the diving board without wiping the slush off.” He explained and Heather groaned.

“For fuck’s sake.” She drained her drink, “let me guess, slipped and broke something?”

“Ankle.” Rob replied, then glanced towards their guest, “Emily the bag on the kitchen island is for you, wouldn’t want you to forget it.”

“Oh, thank you so much.”

Rob disappeared from the doorway as Emily finished her drink, following Heather’s lead to standing and moving from the office down the stairs.

“Thank you for coming, and for now I’d like if this could be kept as off the record as possible.”

“Of course.” Emily nodded with a smile as she accepted the bag that definitely had more than one portion of food in it before finally making her way out of the house.

**

When the weekend rolled around you and Emily ended up swapping your date night over to Friday instead, and Emily was honestly glad that you did. She got a call halfway through her work day that a pipe had burst in the basement of her apartment, no water would be available for the next twenty four hours. There had been yet another surprise snowfall and even though it wasn’t that big the roads were terrible and the last thing you wanted was to drive all the way home after work.

This was why it was lucky Emily still had her standing reservation at The Waldorf.

You caught up a bit over dinner and drinks, Emily curious to know more about how often you were in close quarters with the President and First Lady. You rattled on about a couple of things, shared the stories you knew you could, flashed your fresh manicure and shared some gossip you’d gotten from Claire that afternoon. In turn Emily delved a little bit into how her week had been now that she’d finally caught up on paperwork, she had stories about the team she’d never even thought of telling you, the entire evening seeming a little more casual and open than any prior. However that didn’t change the circumstances when you got upstairs, clothes quickly falling to the floor as you dropped onto the bed and became a mess of sweaty tangled limbs.

Emily lay half wrapped around you, her head on your chest as you were propped up on the pillows, a mid nineties rom com playing on the late night television. Your hand was gently playing with her hair, soothingly scratching at her scalp as you did so.

“You okay?” You asked, pressing a gentle kiss to her head.

“Yeah.” Her lips brushed against your collarbone before a tiny yawn escaped them, “it’s just been a long week.”

“Want me to dig into Bailey or anyone?”

“No.” She laughed, “I mean, yeah he’s being a total ass about the last case, but it’ll blow over.”

“Okay.” Your hand trailed up and down her back softly before returning to play with her hair.

“Thank you though.”

“Anytime.” You replied, leaving another kiss on the top of her head.

The next morning you were gone before she woke up, you’d warned her about that the night before, you had brunch plans with Tony and if you bailed on them again you had no doubt he would track your location and show up wherever you were. It did give her the chance to sleep in far later than she thought she would, it was almost noon by the time her eyes opened. She wasn’t used to that, usually have to set an alarm in hotels to make sure housekeeping wasn’t trying to kick her out already.

She ordered room service for breakfast, including a couple of extra meals for the rest of the day and took a very long, luxurious shower. Picking at the leftovers of her first meal while she was wrapped in the cozy warm hotel robe she let the tv play some mindless shows for a couple of hours before she finally gained the energy to start the trek home.

Downstairs she passed off her valet ticket at the concierge and started to flip through some brochures and ads while she waited.

“Anything I can help you with ma’am?” A clerk asked her.

“Uh…” her eyes lingered on the resort in Monarch Beach, the wheels turning in her brain, though that location would be far too chilly to really enjoy this time of year. “You guys have properties all around the world, right?”

“We sure do.” They replied with a bright smile, turning to grab a couple of binders, “thinking about a last minute Christmas getaway? We’ve got quite a few resorts that specialize in the festivities, lots of stuff for the family and kids to take part in.”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head, “not Christmas, definitely no kids, but definitely somewhere warm. Probably tropical, super fancy… a little exclusive… you got anything like that?”

They grinned across at her, pulling out a smaller binder, “I think you’ll find our private resort in the Maldives right up your alley.”

____________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @Soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @scarletwitcher97 @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts @just-moondust @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch @dowsedwithbleach @divergentalwaysandforever-blog

[ginnyruin]

Altered State by ginnyruin announcement:

TL;DR: I’m rewriting my fic and will be posting two chapters a week until we reach the new update, Chapter 55. I’m excited to share the changes, including new characterizations and scenes, and new artwork by Nurchie.

long message:

Hi everyone,

I’ve been working on a rewrite on and off since I took a break last year. There were times when I wasn’t sure I’d continue — burnout can be tough— but revisiting the old chapters slowly drew me back in. What started as fixing a few things I wasn’t happy with eventually turned into a full rewrite. 

I initially intended to release Chapter 55 without sharing the rewrite first, especially since I know some readers have been waiting for a continuation of the story. I really didn’t want to disappoint. However, I realized that wouldn’t do the story justice.

I thought it might be best to release two chapters a week until we reach the new content with Chapter 55.

Subscribers on Ao3 won’t be getting any emails about these updates.

Just one email when the fic is first taken out of the collection because Ao3 does that automatically, and another when Chapter 55 goes live. I’ll be updating the date of the fic whenever a new chapter of the rewrite is posted, so it may appear in the tags for anyone who’s looking for it.

I might post update news here... but I really don't want to annoy people.

I won’t be deleting the original chapter webpages (since I deeply treasure your comments), but for now, they’ll serve as temporary pages even if it's empty. I know the word count and chapter count might look odd, but I hope you all understand.

I’ve deleted and rewritten entire chapters, reworked characterizations (Abraxas Malfoy for one, is so much more the original Death Eater you expect him to be). The atmosphere has become a little darker, everyone is slightly more miserable, but there will be some more humor too. While the essence of the story and most of the narrative progression remains the same, it feels like a deeper, more complete version now.

I’m also incredibly excited to share that Nurchie has repainted some of the older artwork, adding new details that reflect how her art and the story have evolved together. She’s also painted some jaw-droppingly gorgeous, brand-new pieces for the rewrite scenes, which I can’t wait for you to see. I’ve been eagerly following her progress with each new piece, and her work never fails to inspire me. She’s also my beta reader and has been such a huge source of encouragement and joy, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

Nurchie and I are both doing this purely for the joy of it in our free time. It’s a passion project for us, and we’re genuinely excited to share it with you. We’re not active on social media and aren’t making any money from this. It’s just something we love to create. 

Thanks so much for your ongoing support—whether you choose to revisit the rewrite or wait until it’s all finished, or not read the rewrite at all, I truly appreciate every bit of engagement. Your comments and thoughts here and on Ao3 have motivated me more than you know, and I’m excited to share this updated version with you.

[ilycove]

And here he is again.

Toasty’s grip on your shoulders tightens, hugging the air out of your lungs. His fingertips dig into your skin, indenting a mark onto you. His face rests on your collarbones, burying himself beneath your bones.

They feel your hands in their hair, undoing the braid you had put in earlier in the morning and gently scratching his scalp, combing through the waves the braid had left. They let out a sigh and squeeze your waist.

A meek voice claws its way through, the vibrations from his mouth sending shockwaves through your neck. “Do you have to leave?”

Soft laughter escapes the bine of your throat, pressing a kiss to his ear. “I can’t just stay here, darling. I have to go home eventually,” your hand cups his cheek and lifts it away from your neck, swiping your thumb over his cheekbones. “I’ll be back soon. Maybe. Hopefully.”

You fix their glasses and caress their hair, messy from being attached to you for so long. They looked gorgeous even when they were a mess. A domestic smile creeps out from your teeth.

And it feels like he yearns for you. He wants more of you even when you’re in front of him, when you’re still in his arms and you don’t have to leave at this very moment. He wants your dreary mondays and your secrets. He wants everything. He wants nothing. He just wants you.

You start to pull away from their embrace, but a tug on your hand stops you. “Don’t go.”

“What? Toasty, you know I can’t just–”

“–But that’s the thing, you can. We can- I can make room at my place. You don’t have to leave.” The hand that wasn’t holding yours reached up to brush hair away from your face, his eyes swirling with desperation. “Please?”

A chuckle comes from the depths of your heart, a sorrowful smile stitching across your mouth. “I still have a job. And clothes back home. And literally, like, everything I own.”

They shrug, traveling their hand upwards to grab your forearm. “I can ship everything here. And who says you have to send in your two weeks? Just, disappear off of the Earth with me.”

Your laughter grew louder, an honest sounding melody fluttering from your chest. You look back at the plane you have to board, and suddenly the butterflies in your stomach turned to moths. You rub your thumb over Toasty’s cheek again, a bittersweet taste coating your tongue. “Darl, I have to go home. I’ll be back soon, I swear it.”

His fingertips dance further up your body and hold your cheeks, an unreadable expression on his face. “You swear it?”

“I swear it,” you repeat as you kiss his palms softly, pulling further and further away from him as you grab your bags. “This isn’t a goodbye. I’ll see you soon, my love. I’ll call you and bug you about the potential baby that is on the plane and complain about it for hours.”

“Oh, but of course,” They roll their eyes affectionately and lean towards you again, pressing a kiss on your temple. They whisper against your skin, “I’ll see you soon.”

Toasty doesn’t like this part. He doesn’t like watching you go. He doesn’t like the pit in his stomach, or how his eyes are watering, or how he doesn’t get to hold you anymore, or how he finally understand that this; this is what solitude is.

All’s well that ends well, they suppose. It’ll be alright. They’ll convince you to stay with them one of these days.

It’s alright that his passenger seat is too empty for comfort, it’ll be okay. He’s okay with waiting for you a little longer.

You’ll be home soon.

[wittlesissyb4by]

Chapter 1

Oh fuck! Oh FUCK! FUCK!

I overslept.

I was supposed to be at work over an hour ago. If I hurried, I could take a shower, throw on some clothes that still needed ironing, and make it there by 11 if there isn’t much traffic. 

Or…I could just call in sick. 

Having the day to myself would be nice. I’ve taken a day off each of the last 3 weeks and I have to say, I’ve really been enjoying the extra day of relaxation. Not that my job is too taxing, I sit at a desk all day and move numbers from one column to the other, but on days I’m home I get to be free. I get to be me. 

My roommate Max is at work until 5. That’s at least 7 solid hours of play time. My mind races with all the possible things I could do. I’m already getting hard just thinking about it. I grab my phone and tune my voice as I dial, my other hand on my crotch, rubbing in excitement. 

“HR, this is Kelly.”

“Hey K-Kelly” I say in a terrible excuse for a raspy voice, coughing unconvincingly. “I think I'm getting pretty sick…”

“Again? This is like the third week in a row.” She says.

“Yea, I dunno, some kind of weird viral thing I guess.”

Even through the phone she sounded skeptical. “Hmm…okay well go ahead and take the day off, and bring in a doctor’s note on Monday.”

“A doctor’s note?”

“Yea. You’ve already used all your PTO days for the year, so you’ll need a note from your doctor to have it count as a sick day. Otherwise we’ll have to dock your pay.”

America.

“Okay, well *ehem* I’ll get the note and bring it on Monday.” I say, knowing damn well I'm too lazy to do any of those things. Maybe they’ll forget, or shrug it off, I dunno, that’s future-Jake’s problem. 

Today, I’m gonna pamper myself. Literally. 

But first I have to shave my legs. I dunno why. For whatever reason it puts me in that mood. Having fresh, smooth legs makes me feel both feminine and infantile. 

After I’ve removed any trace of body hair, it’s time to decide what to wear. I have a large divider in my closet that serves as a false wall. It effectively hides an entire section tucked back in the corner. That’s where I keep all my supplies.

I’ve accrued quite a lot over the years. Slowly adding to my wardrobe and repertoire of toys. I rake the hangars along the rod as I search for my outfit of the day, all of them in various shades of pink.

Frilly dress? Na. Too frumpy. Onesie? Too tame. I’m in a particularly slutty mood. I want something slutty.

I decide on my go-to: the sexy Schoolgirl outfit. 

Sure, it’s cliche. But there's a reason it’s so common. Nothing makes me feel more fuckable than that skimpy skirt and the crop top. It’ll even show off my new belly button piercing!

I take some time putting it all on, pretending I’m getting ready for a hot date or something, or maybe just a gangbang.

The skirt can’t even hang properly because of how hard my cock is poking out. I stroke it a few times, fighting the urge to do it more. I have to control myself, I don’t want this to end too early.

Luckily, I’ve learned a great way to fix that.

I take a few seconds to decide on a diaper. I end up going with the pink BunnyHopps, for multiple reasons, but the main one being that they’re super cute. 

I unfurl the diaper and lay it down on my bed, turning around to position myself over it. The crinkle as I lower myself onto it always gets me going. The shaky excitement from something so simple is something I will never understand about myself. But as I’m pulling the front of the diaper up to tape it shut, I realize I’ve forgotten something. Gotta get a plug. Oh! And powder…

After a bit of grunting and frustration, I work the plug into my ass. I love how full it makes me feel, having it inside and tickling my prostate gives me the heebie jeebies. I powder myself as best I can without getting it all over my skirt, then pull the front flap of the diaper over me and tape it snugly. 

Mmmm the way it feels when I sit up, feeling the padding as the plug presses into me is such a high.  

I stand up and look at myself in the mirror. Not bad, but it can be better.

I take my shaggyish hair and separate it into two tiny pigtails. I’m getting better at making them even, but I wish my hair was a bit longer. Two little bows attached to each do make it look super cute, though. 

I close the door to my room…just in case. I don’t want Max to come home early and find me prancing around like a pretty sissy. I turn back around and get to what I was doing…

Creeeeakkk

I panic. Jumping around, caught in the act, attempting to cover myself as the door swings open.

Nothing.

No one’s on the other side, the door just…swung open on its own accord, and damn near gave me a heart attack. I push the door shut again but it doesn’t click, just slowly creaks back open. It takes me two more attempts to get it to stick and stay shut. I gotta fix that sometime soon. Maybe tomorrow. Or next week…

I spend the next hour in my computer chair watching make-up tutorials as I learn to apply my own. Trying to contour without making myself look like bozo the clown is something I’m still struggling to learn. I’m pretty happy with what I accomplished though. I bat my mascara’d eyelashes at myself and give a dainty smile to the mirror. I feel so pretty, but I could definitely use some lip gloss!

When I’m satisfied that I look like a proper, fuckable sissy slut. I prance around the room. Well, as much as I can with a plug and pamper between my bum. I love my new stockings and Mary Jane slippers! They really complete the look. 

“Oh! Have I been a naughty girl today, Professor?” I say in as best of a sissy voice as I can muster. “Are you going to make me stay after class and be…punished?”

I giggle daintily at my little made up scenario. It’s silly and, admittedly, pathetic, but it’s the best I can muster under the circumstances. Judging by how hard I am in my pampers, it seems to be working just fine.

I go back to my secret stash and rustle around until I find the dildo I’m looking for. The big, fleshy 8-incher complete with balls and a suction cup, a favorite of mine lately. 

“Oh Professor!” I say, twirling around with the cock so that my skirt swishes and my diaper crinkles. “Whatever could I do to make it up to you??”

“Well I think you should start by…sucking up to me a bit…” I mimic in a deeper voice, trying not to cringe at the awful line.

I place the dick to my glossy lips, batting my eyes up at the ceiling and putting on an innocent facade, “Like this Professor??”

“Yes you little whore. Now let’s see what you got!”

I close my eyes and take the fleshy dildo in my mouth. I hear myself let out a little moan. God it feels so good having something in there. I have several pacifiers to appease my oral fixation, but there’s nothing like a nice big cock, even if it’s a fake one…

I get down onto my knees, putting the dildo on the edge of the bed, pretending I’m servicing a real man. I suck and slurp and try to do all the things the blowjob tutorial videos told me to. I can’t help but rub the front of my diaper with my other hand. My dick is practically screaming at me to cum. I bring myself right up to the edge and–

Thonk!

Oh fuck! Was that a car door? Is Max home?? Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit! What if he sees me like this?? 

I toss the dildo to the side and bustle over to the window as fast as my plug and padding will allow. I peek through the blinds and heave a huge sigh of relief.

It’s just the neighbor. They must have forgotten something at work I guess.

Phew…close one. 

My heart is still beating out of my chest, and my stomach is still in knots from the adrenaline. All of my horniness has evaporated.

Well, kind of. One quick look in the mirror gets me worked up again, but at least I'm not so close to cumming now!

Stopping to take the time to wet my diaper, I hold my skirt up as I watch myself make the padding swell and the tint of the diaper change to a darker shade.  I press the front inward, feeling the warmth against my skin. What kind of freak do I have to be to enjoy this shit?

I put that thought out of my mind. 

Searching the room for the discarded dildo, I find it in the corner of the room before sitting down at my desk and plopping the rubber dick down on the surface in front of me.

It doesn’t take me long to find some porn to watch. I’ve recently discovered “FPOV” blowjob videos where, instead of it being from the male perspective looking down at someone sucking his dick, you get the girl’s perspective. Which means I get to watch the dick enter in and out of ‘my’ mouth. A front row seat to a big, sloppy blowjob. 

I put my headphones on so I can get the real experience. Following the girl on screen as she moves back and forth over the big, black dick. 

“You’re such a good little cocksucker!” a woman’s voice says.

Oh! This one has a voiceover. Someone degrading me and instructing me while I suck a dick? Yes please.

“Take it in your mouth! Deeper…deeper…”

I rub the front of my diaper, feeling my absolutely throbbing cock even through the pissy padding. ‘MMmphhing’ all over the dick in my mouth, making sure to keep it nice and wet.

“This is your purpose…this is what you were made for…”

I suck and slurp, the diaper crinkles and shifts. This is so hot!

“Men are going to use you…fuck your little whore mouth for their pleasure…”

“You are meant to worship perfect, huge, juicy cock!” 

“Suck him sissy! Suck him faster!”

I moan with the rubber dick in my mouth as I follow the voice’s instructions. The woman on screen was ‘mmming’ and ‘mmmphing’, but I was doing it louder. She spat on the dick, so did I. She stroked it with her saliva. So did I. 

“Do you feel like a little slut for him?”

I do.

“His little mouth whore?”

Yessss.

“He’s going to use your lips like a fleshlight.”

Whatever you sayy.

“You want his cum so fucking bad don’t you??”

The girl on the screen was moaning desperately, hungrily. Oh wait…that’s me.

“He’s going to cum! He’s going to cum!”

Oh god…I’m gonna cum. I need to stop–oh! Oh no…

I curse myself as I feel my body start to spasm. A new warmth fills the inside of my diaper. I can feel all my horniness leaving with it.

No! Not yet!! I whine at no one in particular. I had a whole day planned…and now it’s ruined. 

I hate how easily it tends to happen. I can’t get far into my regime at all without immediately blowing it….literally.

I feel like crying, but I don’t want my mascara to run. The plug immediately loses all of its appeal. I huff and puff as I rip the tapes of the diaper off, seeing my immense and gooey load making strings when the front flap flops open. I sit up a bit and yank the plug out a little harder than I intended, tossing it across the room.  

Plopping myself back down, the diaper feels cool and clammy now. Still, I reason, there’s no sense in wasting it, diapers are expensive, and the good thing about these BunnyHopps is they have the hook and loop tapes, which means I can put it right back on…even if it’s not nearly as fun now.

I check through the window again to make sure Max’s car isn’t out front before I head into the kitchen to make something to eat. I bring it back to my room, closing the door, and then closing it again after it doesn’t stay shut. 

Firing up my rig, I pull up League of Legends and start playing a few matches. I feel like one of those E-girls, dressing kind of skimpy and playing video games for boys’ attention. I don’t even have to get up to pee between matches, just get to release it all into my diaper. This is the life.

At around 2 o’clock, I feel the urge to use the bathroom in a different way. I sigh, knowing it’s the end of my diaper time. I head to the restroom to do my business, but stop before I get to the door. 

Actually, why don’t I just do it right here? Right now? After all, I am in a diaper. I don’t usually mess because Max is always here, but I have the house all to myself, and this diaper is on its last leg anyway. Why not? I’m allowed to treat myself, even if it's probably the weirdest way one would do so. 

I’ve always found it a bit awkward to poop in a diaper. How does one do it? Do you stand? Surely not. Do you sit? That seems messy, but I guess that’s kinda the point…I decide to squat down and handle it that way. 

It doesn’t happen immediately. I sit there awkwardly thinking about what someone would say if they saw me in this position.

“D’awwww!! Is the wittle baby making a pushy poo?? Hmm? Are joo making a big ‘ole mess for Mommy?”

The thought of that gives me a stirring in a different part of my diaper. I imagine myself surrounded by a group of beautiful women, forced to dirty my diaper in front of them while they all point and laugh.

“Stinky poo! Stinky poo! Now you’re going doo doo!!”

“Suck your thumb, loser!!”

I put my thumb in my mouth. I suck it while I grunt and push.

“A grown man dumping in a DIAPER!”

“Man? Looks like a sissy slut to me!”

I can actually see myself blushing in the mirror while the diaper sags under the weight of my warm mush that’s filling it.

“He did it! He did it!” the imaginary girls clap.

I can see my penis poking through the pampers. 

“And he LIKED it!”

“Show us how much you like it, loser!”

“Sit in your stinky seat!!”

I sit back on my butt and feel the mush spread inside. It’s sickening and feels yucky, but the girls love it.

“Bouncy bouncy baby!!”

I bounce on the floor, squishing the mess even more, sucking my thumb and making pathetic little noises as I slip into little space.

“Goo goo ga ga sissy girl!!”

I’m drooling on my thumb while the other is rubbing the front of my mushy diaper. I’m glad Max isn’t home to hear the ridiculous sounds I'm making. 

“I think he wants to MAKE a goo goo in his diapy!” The girls all laugh. Emma Watson, Kate Beckinsale, Natalie Portman, they’re all here. “On the floor! It’s time for dumpy humpies!!”

Someone also tells me to get my ‘big boi binky’. I grab the dildo off my desk and put it on the floor in front of me.

“Sucky sucky while you fucky fucky!!” 

I’m a mess in every sense of the word. Drooling all over the dick, wiggling back and forth in my defiled diaper, grinding against the ground, skirt, hair, make-up all disheveled.

The girls are clapping their hands and chanting. Goo GOO! Goo GOO! Goo GOO!

It feels so good, being a dirty little diaper bitch…I’m gonna…I’m gonna…

Beep!

Panic. Was that a car horn? No, a truck horn. Max’s truck. The sound it makes when it’s locking. He’s here.

I rush to the window, my destroyed diaper plopping side to side with every step. I peek through the blinds again, scanning the yard.

Nothing. No one in the driveway, no sign of Max.

Another sigh of relief. It’s hard to enjoy myself when I’m constantly on edge that I'll be caught. Sure, I’m in my room, but the stench alone could probably alert the neighbors. I check to see if I even came. 

Oh…yea..definitely did. But I don’t remember the orgasm. Shame. I’m overcome with shame and disgust again, and now I’m walking around in my own filth.

I carefully remove the diaper, trying to make sure the defecation doesn’t get on my skirt. In hindsight, I should have removed the skirt before opening the diaper, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. Now I've got a literal mess on my hands. I use one of my palms to cradle the diaper while using my other hand to keep my skirt from sticking to the filth on my backside. I carefully place the diaper down so I can use both of my hands to unzip my skirt safely and take it ,and my crop top, off, tossing them both out of harm’s way.

Now I have other shit to deal with. I carefully roll up the diaper and tape the biohazard up into a ball. The thing is massive and plump, but still has its pinkish hue. I want to take it out to the dumpster, but being naked with a muddy butt isn’t exactly the right attire to do so.

This is why I don’t make messy diapers. I’m so bad at dealing with the cleanup.

I decide to set it all down and go take a shower. I make sure to close my door behind me, and step across the hall into the bathroom. The warm water feels good on my clammy skin. I use the sprayer to hose the filth off my bum, finally feeling clean again. I put the nozzle back in its holster above, but it falls with a loud clunk. But even after I caught it, the sound persisted.

Someone was at the front door. 

Not knocking. They just…walked in. I could tell by the clatter the screendoor makes when it shuts too hard, another thing I was supposed to fix…

Is that Max? Or is someone breaking in? Max shouldn’t be off of work yet, it’s only 3, and he always works until at least 5. 

I listen to the footfalls, turning the water off so I can get a better listen. The steps are hard, like those of work boots. Max’s boots. They stomp down the hallway past the bathroom I’m in, past my door, and then to his.

I shut my door, right?

Yes. I did. I made sure of it.

But what if he smells my disgusting diaper?

In a bit of a panic, I hop out of the shower, grab a towel, and make my way out into the hall.

“Hey,” I say, unable to keep the panic from my voice.

Max turns, a weird look on his face, “Hey.” he replies.

“You’re home early.” I say, sounding like an unfaithful housewife.

He scratches his beard and sighs, “Yea, the guys got what they needed done and we should be good to pass inspection tomorrow so I sent ‘em home.”

“Oh, okay, cool.” It was awkward. We’ve lived together for almost two years now and it’s never been this awkward. Probably because I’m making it awkward.

“Well, I’m gonna go take a nap.” He rubbed his eyes, maybe a little too much. 

“Alright then, see ya later.”

“Later.”

He went into his room and closed the door behind him. I hurried to mine, reaching for the handle. 

But it wasn’t there. The door was open. Wide open. And all my stuff was splayed across it in full, easy view. The skimpy skirt, the crop top with the word ‘SISSY’ plastered across it, a realistic dildo with my drool still dripping down it and, right in the center of the floor, my big giant disgusting diaper.

…Is there any chance he didn’t see all of that?

To Be Continued

~~Click HERE for Chapter 2~~

[promptcorner]

What we need in times of crisis, shelters/places of safety/sanctuaries, fighters, defenders, and healers.

Read The Art of War and other books, especially banned books. They’ll tell us truths about our past and future. We live in the now, and we can’t let fear win. We’ve made it this far, let’s show the world why.

Evil never sleeps, but neither do us fic writers and readers when we’re in a plane wreckage, or homeless, or in the hospital, or stuck in a storm, or in a war zone. We don’t rest either.

We have to be like the characters we write about, because they can’t pop out from media and save us. Know your strengths, know the value you have, and understand what we’re facing. Then we can win a thousand battles.

I know what I am, I’m a healer, not a fighter. So I’ll be the safe place you need in times of war. A place to breathe and replenish. Let my abominations of litterateur heal and inspire.

This is a long winded post to say I’m disappointed in my country, so I’m gonna be a healer for others. I’m tired of living with the consequences of other people’s actions, so fic chapters are coming out soon.

Fuck being in danger, if the people who voted for him fear me, my friends, and family, then they need to grow new balls and get a period. A baaad period.

The next chapter for, A Phantom Indeed will be coming out Monday.

Stay human, everyone. Stay safe. I love you with all my asexual heart. 💜🤍🩶🖤

Edit: here’s the post connected to chapter two. Enjoy!

[runningincircl3s]

Nothing Ever After

Noah Sebastian x Reader x Vinny Mauro

Chapter Eleven

chapter warnings: NSFW!! half of this chapter is basically just smut lmao

apologies for the short chapter! the next few are pretty long so that'll make up for it :) once again a smut warning comes with a warning that i simply can't reread my own smut haha, so please ignore any mistakes!! happy monday :)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You were left utterly speechless, you didn’t have anything to say to that and before you even had time to think of something to say back, he had taken his drinks and left. As much as you wanted to play along with whatever game he's playing, you couldn't deny that you felt guilty. You were hurting, and so was he, but you didn't know what to do to fix it.

As you walked back with all the drinks, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as Caitlin laughed at something Vinny said, acting like it was the funniest thing in the world. 

“After we finish our drinks,” you whisper to Noah as you sit back down beside him, “Why don’t we go back to the hotel? I’ll say I feel tired and you could say you’ve got a call you need to take…”

“They’ll still be suspicious,” he says, “Let's just wait until we’re done here, okay? We've got nothing else on for the rest of the day, it'll be just you and me. All night.” He smiles, his hand rubbing up and down your thigh, sending shivers through your body, but you nod your head. 

“It’s Bryan’s turn!” Nicholas cheered, turning his camera on to Bryan, "So far Noah's in the lead, Chris is pretty close and so is y/n! It's gonna be a close one."

“I don’t know why I’m still playing, I’ve already lost. You guys are all 50 points above me!” Bryan chuckled as he got up.

"C'mon, Bry, it's all just for fun." You smiled, and he shook his head as he went up to bowl.

In the end, you and Chris had the most points, and you only needed to score higher than 7 to beat him. He jokingly gave you a sly look as you got up, taking your turn. 

As you rolled the ball, you hit 5 pins in the left corner. You knew you had this in the bag! You’d easily beat Chris, there was no doubt. 

You rolled the second ball, and hit 4, leaving one in the middle, yet winning the game! 

You turned around, smiling as the guys cheered for you, all except Vin who was talking to Caitlin. You walked back to your seat, grabbing your bag and your phone, finishing your drink and grabbing Noah by the hand to pull him up. 

“My room or yours?” You asked, tilting your head as you looked up at him. 

“It’s gotta be yours, doll. I’m sharing with Matt tonight.” He whispered.

“Cool, let him know you’re coming to my room to look at the pictures I took, to see if any of them are official page worthy.” You smiled, “I’ll text you my room number.”

As you began to walk off after saying your goodbyes to the guys, who were staying behind for one more drink, you accidently bump into Caitlin as she digs through her bag for something.

"Sorry!" You gasps, and you smile, shaking your head.

"Don't worry about it," you notice how Vinny was at the bar with a couple of the guys, so you took the slither of time you've got to talk to her, "So how do you know Vin?"

"He followed me on instagram a few years ago, he'd always like my posts and reply to my stories. We try to meet up whenever we can- it's nothing like that though, we're just friends... Unless we're drunk in his hotel room." She giggles, and you smile and nod your head.

"Well, it's been great to meet you!" You say as you take a deep breath. You weren't jealous, why would you be jealous? She's a beautiful girl, he's a beautiful guy, of course they're going to get up to all sorts of things when they're alone.

So why were you so mad that they had a history, or that he invited her along today?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Fuck,” Noah groaned as you grabbed a handful of his tshirt, “I never thought this moment would come, where I’d have you all to myself.” 

You grinned against the skin of his neck, where you were peppering kisses before you felt the back of your legs hit the bed. You wiggled your way up, your head now against the pillows as Noah hovered over you, the most devilish look on your face. 

“You beat all our asses out there, didn’t you, beautiful?” He slips his hand under the sweater you were wearing, feeling your bare skin beneath his fingertips, “I don’t know whether to reward you for doing so well, or teach you a lesson for being so cocky earlier.” 

When you thought his hand would travel higher towards your bra, he surprised you, his hand moved lower, and you felt it slip under your skirt, under the hip of your underwear and rested it there, his thumb tracing over your pubic bone. 

“But you’ve been working so hard for us, I think it’s only fair that I say thank you.” He added, before asking permission to take your panties off. 

He moved his way down your body, your sweater now pushed up, exposing your tummy where he kissed a trail down to your thighs, yet he insisted your skirt stayed on. You knew what you were doing when you got dressed this morning, part of you wore it to tease him, and although you wouldn’t let yourself admit it, part of you wore it to tease Vinny too. 

You felt bad for him, knowing how you let him down, but you suddenly stopped thinking about Vin when you felt Noah’s tongue on your clit, kissing, licking, nipping and sucking as you threw your head back, strings of moans leaving your lips as you melted into the pleasure, letting it consume you. 

“So fucking gorgeous, you know that?” You heard him say. 

As his mouth worked on you, his hand moved its way to where you needed him. He teased your hole with his thumb, slipping the tip in before pulling back out, leaving you clenching around nothing as he smirked against your clit. 

“Noah, please,” you begged, breathlessly, “I need you, stop teasing.” 

“I know, baby, look how wet you are,” he said, pushing himself up slightly as he ran his finger teasingly slow through your folds, collecting the slickness before he took his finger into his mouth, “Bet it’s been a while since you’ve been fucked, hasn’t it? Poor thing.” He pouted before he dove back in. 

“Oh my g-” You slapped one hand over your mouth as the other tugged on his hair, you swore you felt him groan into your pussy as he brought his hand back up, his pointer finger slipping into you with ease, followed by his middle finger. "Fuck!"

His fingers fucked into you slowly, too slowly, but he knew how good it was making you feel and the noises you made as you were begging for more was music to his ears. He takes your thighs and places them over his shoulders as he sucks on your clit, his fingers curling into you, rubbing the spot you could never reach alone. He needed to see you come undone for him, he needed to watch your break in his hands 

He pulls his face back to kiss your thighs, the rough pad of his thumb now stroking circles over your clit, the slight stubble on his chin tickling you as sinks his teeth into your soft flesh, losing himself in the pleasure he was giving you. 

“I’m so close,” you tell him, “I’m gonna-”

“Go on, baby,” he tells you between kisses to your clit as , “Need to see how pretty you look when you cum, my pretty girl.” He mumbled into your flesh, as you felt your thighs tremble around him. 

It didn’t take long for you to finish, your walls clamping down around Noah’s fingers as he moaned into your skin. Even after your orgasm hit, he didn’t move, he remained between your thighs until you had to force him off, the overstimulation becoming too much to handle. When he finally came up, he roughly grabbed your cheek in his hand, crashing his lips into yours as he moved up, kneeling between your thighs, you could finally feel how hard he was, and you were almost certain he had gone commando today. 

“Noah…” You panted, your forehead slightly damp with sweat as he rested his against it, “Fuck me.”

“Anything you want, angel.” He smirked, and you felt his hands reach for the hem of your sweater, pulling it over your head, his lips parting at the fact you weren’t wearing a bra. As he took one of your boobs into his hand, you worked on undressing him. 

“It’s not fair that you’ve still got all your clothes on.” You tell him as his fingers tease your nipple. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” He says, slowly pulling back as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his fully tattooed chest, then pulling a condom out of his pocket before pushing his joggers down- and you were right, he wasn’t wearing any boxers. “That better?” He asked, leaning back down to kiss you again. 

As you kissed, you felt his hips twitching involuntarily, his cock rubbing against your heat as you desperately tried to get more from him. 

“Noah, please…” You begged, “please fuck me, I need to feel you…”

"You're so pretty when you're begging, baby." He teases. “Are you sure?” He was watching how frustrated and flustered you were as you screwed your eyes shut and tried rocking your hips, needing more. 

“Yes!” You whined, and he pulled back, you guessed to roll the condom on, and with no warning, you felt the head of his cock nudge against your walls as inch by inch he filled you up. You felt as tears fill your eyes, the pleasure from his cock filling you so perfectly mixed with the dull ache from the stretch and the pain of him remaining so still inside you. 

He slowly began to move, his hand holding you down by your waist as the other pulled your legs to wrap around him, letting him fuck deeper into you as you cursed his name, your nails digging into his back. 

After a while in this position, Noah flipped you over onto your stomach, and he reached down to position you with your ass up for him whilst your face was buried in the pillows. He continued to fuck you like this until you came for the second time, muttering incoherent nonsense as your second orgasm took over you, but judging by the look in Noah’s eyes, he still wasn’t done.

He had you in every position, on every surface of your hotel room. From the bed to the desk in the corner, to the bathroom sink where he made you watch as you fell apart for him. You lost count of how many times you came, but just when you thought he was done, you were flipped over or lied down as he drove back into you, or got on knees to clean you up.

Hours had passed at this point, and the two of you were finally lying together on the bed, your limbs sore and your heart beating erratically as his fingers danced over the skin of your arm, holding you close with your head resting on his chest.

There were moments during your night together where you were using sex to release your built up frustration towards Vinny, knowing how much he would hate to know what you and Noah were up to, but you assumed he would be doing the same with Caitlin later so you assumed he wouldn't care.

"You okay?" Noah asked, gently twirling a piece of your hair before tucking it behind your ear.

"Yeah," you smile, tracing the outline of his stomach tattoo with your finger, trailing to just above his belly button, "I can't believe we just did that."

"I don't think I've ever lasted so long." He chuckled.

"Don't you go to the gym now? Your stamina would've improved." You point out, and he smirks.

"Yeah, I've been seeing the way you stare at me," he rubs his hand up and down his arm, "Don't think I don't notice, angel."

"Can you blame me?" You tilt your head to look up at him, "The last time I saw you, it looked like it would take one strong gust of wind to blow you over- and I mean that in the nicest way possible, that's literally my type- and now you look like you could bench press me?"

"So you're saying I'm your type?" He raised an eyebrow, a smug look across his face as you sat yourself up.

"No!" You tried to hide your smile.

"So what is your type?" He asked, his eyes meeting yours as he awaited your answer, but this only caused you to blush.

"I don't often like someone for their looks, it's always their personality. Someone funny, a bit of a nerd, has the same music taste as me, who stands for the right things... Someone who doesn't care about what other people think of them. That's what I find attractive."

"Y'know you basically just described me, y/n." He smirked.

And Vinny.

"Shut up!" You smiled, "So what's your type?"

He thought for a moment, and you thought he was going to give you an honest answer, but then he started describing you. Your height, your hair colour, your body shape, your eye colour, before you interrupted.

"Noah, I'm being serious!"

"You think I'm lying? What have we been doing for the past three hours, princess?"

"You... Really like me?"

"You haven't noticed?"

"Oh, Noah." You frowned, and he reached out to pull you back onto his chest.

-----------------------------

team vinny we might not be up right now but trust me everything's gonna change in the next chapter <3

@rumoured-whispers @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @thisbicc @dominuslunae @miss570 @miamore0570 @jilliemiw86 @itsyaboinoah

[russett-pots]

Ultimate Meet and Greet

Park Jinkyung (Wooyeon)

Tags: Choking, pussy slapping, baby-trapping???

Words: 3.6k

Another request.

Well here is another small group.

Finally, you are able to line up to buy the albums you wanted. It may just be a small group but Woo!ah! is your favorite group and finally, you got your first piece of merch. You notice that with every purchase of the album, there is a raffle offer for the fan sign event where you can meet and greet with your favorite idols.

You can finally meet Wooyeon, your ult ever since they debuted. But what are the chances of that? You only bought one album and the person before you bought more than ten. He probably has a better chance of meeting Woo!ah!. But regardless why not shoot your shot? No harm in signing up for the fan sign event. If you win then that’s nice but if you don’t you still have your album.

When you get home, the first thing you do is that you open the album. All the photocards and the freebies. You only got two photo cards. One of Wooyeon. That’s nice and the other is Nana. She was your initial favorite. She is the most popular member and has a lot of activities. Something you are sure that the other members are jealous of.

But your still favorite is Wooyeon and you are happy you got a photocard of her. Then you received a notification. It is about an email for your raffle. You see that you have successfully entered and they’ll announce the winners on Friday later this week. Now you just wait. The small chance you actually are able to get picked for the event.

~~

Now it is Friday. You are going through a very unusually busy schedule of work and you cannot wait for the weekend. All you want is rest. This week your company had a huge data leak and your team was in charge of dealing with it. Finally, on Friday, you are able to fix everything up and hopefully, it won’t happen again.

You rest on your desk and scroll through emails. It has been some time before you went through them and now there are hundreds that you have to respond to. But one caught your eye. It isn’t a regular business email you usually received. It is from NV entertainment.

You got in! You won the slot to go to the fan sign event.

“OMG.” You almost shout.

“What is it? Is there more we have to do?” Your co-worker says.

“No! I’m going to meet Woo!ah!.”

“Woo who?”

“Woo!ah!. They’re a K-pop group.”

“Ah! K-pop. Whatever.” 

It completely went over your head. It was something you forgot but now you can see you won. You finally get the chance to meet your favorite member. You just have to mention who you want to meet and they’ll give you the details. Of course, you went to your favorite, Wooyeon.

Quickly, an auto-response email was sent to you. It is the time and place where you’ll be meeting them. But you first went to HR and filed for a leave of absence the Monday after. Even if you know the event would be on a Sunday. There would be a post-fan meet high that you’ll have and you want to enjoy it when you can.

Now it is the end of the day and you can finally enjoy your time going home. You put on some music while you ride the subway. Your favorite song is playing, Catch the stars. A song that you wish would have more streams and you have tried introducing it to your friends. But anyway they haven’t listened to it.

You smile as you think about meeting Woo!ah!. Just smiling even when you see the album art on Spotify already makes you happy. But now you have to prepare yourself for Sunday.

The next day, you went shopping for toys for the members to play with. Maybe some rabbit ears for Nana or some stuffed toys for Wooyeon, Sora, Lucy, and Minseo. Something small yet meaningful for you. You hope they’ll enjoy it. Then once you get home you start to write some letters. Just short ones for the members. But when you get to Wooyeon’s you let your heart out. You put how much you are a fan and you always found happiness when you see her. Then some more cheesy stuff. You might have gone overboard but you don’t care as you saying this from your heart and maybe Wooyeon will be happy when she knows that she has touched your heart.

~~

It is Sunday. It is D-day. You are finally going to meet Woo!ah!. You showered your best, put on some perfume, and wear your best clothes, a nice long sleeve polo and a nice pair of pants. It may just be a brief moment but you’ll experience the best afternoon of your life.

Now you are already at the venue, the line is long and the atmosphere is great. You have never seen so many fans of Woo!ah! in your life and now you can meet and make new friends.

The staff guides you to the seating areas. Your number will be called when you’ll be called to the front. You are excited. There are your favorite idols up onstage. You can see them smiling as they sign the fan’s autographs and give them a high-five. You are so excited.

Then your number is called. You walk up on stage. The staff takes your gifts and will give them to the members. The seat next to you is of a fan with Nana. She is joyfully talking to him. Then you see him move on to the next seat. The manager asks you to move to the next seat.

“Hello, I’m Nana. Nice to meet you.”

You shake nervously.

“Hmmm, is it alright if I call you oppa? You seem nervous.”

“Okay, no problem. Oppa is fine.”

“Great! How are you?”

“I’m fine. Just a little nervous. I brought you some rabbit ears for you.”

The staff gives her the headband.

“Oh, it is a perfect fit!” Nana smiles as she wears them. 

“I also have a letter for you.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, here it is.” Your hands shake as you hand over your letter. “I know it is short but I hope you’ll like it.”

She opens it and reads it for a bit. Her heart opens up. “Awww, Oppa. I love this letter. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Then Nana signs the album and gives it to you. “Nice meeting you Oppa.” She smiles again.

Now it is your turn with Wooyeon. You are even more nervous than with Nana. She is great but Wooyeon is on a whole new level. She is the beauty that you wish your girlfriend to have. You wish she is your girlfriend.

“Hi, Nice to meet you.”

“Hi, Wooyeon.” Your voice is shaky.

“Oppa? You okay?”

“Sorry, I’m just a very big fan.”

“Awwww, I’m happy you’re my fan.”

“Here.” The staff hands over a huge bee.

“Oh, Oppa what’s this about.”

“I always say your voice to be sweet like honey. So I thought I can give you a honey bee.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet. I don’t know if I’m the best singer but this gift will help me with my singing. Thank you.”

You see that Wooyeon is also nervous. She is also shy and blushes after every interaction with you.”

“Wooyeon-ah, here. I have a letter for you.” You hand it over.

She opens it then tears start to leak from her eyes. “Oh, Oppa. You’re making me cry. This letter is so beautiful.”

“Don’t mention it. Beautiful people deserve beautiful things.”

“You’re so touching. Hold on.”

Wooyeon calls her manager and whispers something to her. The manager gives a reluctant nod to her as Wooyeon smiles.

She signs the album and on you go.

Each other interaction with the other member goes as smoothly as you think. Even as nervous as you are. Things go well. You never expect to see Woo!ah! in such a casual setting. The event ends with some games and them doing some performances of their songs. Like your favorite, I don’t miss you, Purple, and Catch the stars.

Time went by so fast. You didn’t notice that it is already at the end. Finally, the members say their goodbyes and bow to everyone. They exit the stage waving at you.

You go home in the jubilee. The fan sign of a lifetime. An experience you’ll never forget. You jump to bed and open the album to see the signatures of the members. But something falls out.

Meet me at Banpo Hangang park 8 pm tonight

-Wooyeon

~~

You dress up nicely with the same clothes you wore to the fan meeting, putting on your best fragrance. Is this real? Did Wooyeon really ask you to meet her in a park near the Han river? A romantic place where couples would go. Does Wooyeon like you? Did you do anything that can convince you to meet her a second time? Or is this a trap where someone is going to expose you?

Are you going to risk it?

You go there cautiously, just sitting on a bench, trying to observe your surroundings. It is already 7:55 pm. There is no sign of Wooyeon. Only couples on romantic dates, watch the full moon. Then you see someone go up near the railing. She is wearing a thick jacket, a cap, and a mask. 

Maybe that’s her. 

You go up to this person and lean on the edge beside her.

“Wooyeon?”

She turns to you confused. It isn’t her. You are embarrassed and run away from her, face-palming yourself.

How can I be so stupid? Is Wooyeon really going to be meeting me here?

You check your watch one more time. It is 8:05 pm. 

Maybe she isn’t coming. Maybe this is just a joke.

Then you bump into someone. She is wearing a cute blouse paired with jeans.

“Wooyeon?”

“Oppa? Is this really you?”

“Oh, yes. It is.”

“Oh, sorry for being late. I was over-preparing myself.”

“Don’t worry. You’re perfect as you are.”

“Thank you.”

“Why aren’t you wearing at least a mask? Isn’t anyone going to spot you?”

“To be honest. Even if I don’t wear a mask or something that can help me hide my identity. I can be fine. At least we can date openly.”

“Date? We’re dating?”

“Don’t you want to? That’s what you said in your letter. I kept on reading it even when I got home.”

You hug her tightly. It isn’t something you expected. Wooyeon loves your letter enough for her to convince you to date her?

She looks up at you and kisses you on the lips.

“Like that?” Wooyeon smiles at you.

“Very much.”

“Come on. Let’s eat.”

She clings onto your arm as you walk down the boardwalk to the seaside restaurant. You both get in and a waiter is waiting for you at the door.

“Hello, table for you?” She says.

You smile and nod. She gets the signal and seats you on the side with a great view of the river and gives you the menu to choose from.

“Have you been here?” Wooyeon asks you.

“No, I haven’t.”

“I have.”

“So, what’s good.”

“Their crabs are good and their seaweed salad.”

“Then we should get that then.”

You can for more food and decide to also get the barbeque ribs. Then the waitress arrives with the side dishes.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Uhhh…..can we haven’t he garlic butter crabs,” Wooyeon says. “Also the barbeque ribs…and the seaweed salad…”

“Is that all?” The waitress says.

“I think so.”

“Any drinks?”

“Can I have a soda?” You ask.

“I’ll just stick with water.” Wooyeon replies.

“Okay. I’ll get this started for you.” The waitress says.

“So, Wooyeon?”

“Yeah?” Wooyeon’s eyes turn up as she drinks her drink.

“Why me? Why did you choose me?”

She puts down her drink. “Well, you touched me. That letter you gave me plus….to be honest you’re handsome…” Wooyeon blushes.

“Really? I wouldn’t think you’d like me.”

“You? Of course, I’d like you. Wouldn’t you think so? Don’t you like me?”

“Well of course. You’re my favorite member?”

“Really! Sorry… I really don’t hear that people like me.”

“What do you mean?”

“People usually like Nana-unnie. She always gets attention. She’s the one that’s in dramas and on other variety shows. And here I’m just being another member of a very small girl group.”

“Don’t be sad. I would always love…”

“Love? You already love me?”

“It’s an idol thing.”

“Oh.”

“Well, I can see you’re beautiful, kind, and caring.”

“Well you don’t know what’s happening behind the scenes do you.”

“What’s there.”

“I’m not saying there is any bullying but I want to have more exposure. Be more famous and when Nana-Unnie gets everything. I’m jealous.”

“Stop talking about Nana. It’s your night and I’m here for you.”

“Thanks.”

The food arrives. The crab, ribs, and seaweed all come at the same time.

Jal meok-ke-sseum-ni-da!

Both of you dig in the food. It is delicious. You eat with Wooyeon and you smile as you see her eat well and you do too. The food is amazing and Wooyeon knows where are the nice restaurants. The crab has a savory taste that you haven’t had before and the sweet and sticky ribs are to die for. Finally, with the salad, it lightens up the pallets. It is the perfect combination for the dinner.

Once supper ends, the two of you split the bill and then escort Wooyeon out of the restaurant. She clings to your arm as you walk back to the boardwalk. It is nice and calm. The air is cool and there is a very weak breeze.

“How’s idol life?”

“Not much. We don’t do much remember. Just some promotions for the songs. I don’t go to a lot of variety shows or anything else. Sometimes we go to music shows at least.”

“I always make sure that I’ll be able to watch your stages.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I tune in to Music Bank, Music Core, and Inkigayo.”

Wooyeon smiles. She stops you at the edge of the railing. The moon is shining on both of you. Then another kiss touches her lips. Like before it is amazing and wondering. Never had a kiss been so good you don’t want to let go. Wooyeon holds your waist to allow you to kiss deeper. Tongues connect and a passion burst.

“Oppa, let’s go to your place.”

“My place? Why?”

“Let’s take this t the next level.”

“Wait…you want to…?”

“Yes, oppa. I think you and I are ready.”

So soon, you ask yourself. You do not want to take advantage of such a girl in your arms. But she is the one who is asking and you do not want to deny her request.

“You live alone?” She asks you.

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s go.”

You hail a taxi then you get into the taxi. You smile with Wooyeon as you give the diver your address. In the back seat, you and Wooyeon start kissing again. Suddenly, she grabs your hand and makes you grope her breast. It is small yet soft. You can already feel her stiff nipples thru her shirt.

Has she been horny all along?”

Once you arrive, you pay the fare and head upstairs to your room. She chuckles as you back hug her and peck her neck in the elevator. It already starts to arouse her a bit as you play with her. 

Then you burst into your room. The door swings wide open. Wooyeon crashes her lips onto yours. You have to carry her inside your room. You have to close the door with your foot as you enter your apartment. 

Heavy kiss and pants you are breathing out as you move your way to the bedroom. Wooyeon forces you to fall to your bed. She removes her shirt and then her bra. She becomes a ravenous creature that wants sex and only sex.

You insert your hand inside her pants and touch her slit. It is already soaking wet. With your other hand, you unbutton her pants and pull them down to the ground. Now you see a fully naked Wooyeon on top of you. But still, she kisses you. You roll her and make her on the bottom and you are on the top.

You break the kiss and leave her lips and move down to her pussy. Since it is already wet. You already have the idea of inserting your middle finger inside her. First going slowly. You push in and out. As your increase speed, you add your ring finger. You pull out your finger then pussy slap her. She moans as you do that.

You slap her for a second time even louder moan. Then you go back to fingering her. You are so fast that you are so loud and that if anyone was in the room you can hear the juices rub against you and her pink walls. Then again another pussy slap. You repeat this until you see her cum.

She squirts all over your bed. Wooyeon pants ad tries to slow down her breathing. You were intense and now you let go. This allows Wooyeon to recompose herself and rest for a bit.

She looks at you with her messed-up hair. “Why did you stop?”

“Can’t I have my turn?” You undo your pants and reveal your girthy cock.

Wooyeon gets surprises end and covers her eyes. She is shocked to see the large meat you are packing.

“It might hurt. Just get ready.”

Wooyeon bites her lips as you grab hold of her legs. You play with the lips with your tip. Just sliding up and down.

Then here it comes, first, the tip enters. You can see with Wooyeon’s eyes she is experiencing some pain. You exit.

“Wooyeon-ah, you sure you want to do this?”

“Just….let’s do this.”

As the tip enters, you can see how Wooyeon is trying to take it all in. You push in deeper, going all the way. Then You have your cock fully inside her. As you are fully inside Wooyeon, she feels a bit of relief. You aren’t moving but she can feel something massive inside her. You can also feel some bit of pleasure as you are in her.

You start thrusting. First slowly, your cock going in and out of her. Your foreskin is rubbing against her walls. Wooyeon starts moaning in delight. Things go smoothly with the help of the juices of Wooyeon’s pussy. Things are going faster and faster. 

You hold on to Wooyeon’s smooth and delicate waist. Each movement feels better than the other. Then your lips collide. You swoop down and start making out. Your arms hold onto her shoulders. Something gentle only what you would want to do to Wooyeon.

Then suddenly, Wooyeon switches positions with you. She turns you over and now she is on top of you, a perfect position for her to start riding you. Her hips move forward, backward, and side to side, like rolling all over your body. She grabs your arms and makes you groper her jiggling breasts.

“Fuck, Wooyeon-ah. How are you so good at riding?”

“I don’t want to say much. But let’s….ugh….say it isn’t my first time.”

“Obviously you aren’t a beginner.”

You sit up once again and start making out. Tongues are connecting. Lips are smacking. A strong lust between a fan and an idol is only something two lovers can have. And are you already lovers?

Wooyeon starts biting you, your lips, cheek then down to your neck, leaving a purple mark on your shoulder. She pushes you once more. Now you are lying on the bed with your pillow on your head and still with your lips locked to each other. 

Turned around once more, you move against to get more control. It is back to a more classic missionary position. You thrust again. This time as fast as you can. You thrust too strongly. You and Wooyeon are now screaming in delight. A loud delight fills the room. 

“Fucking choke me,” Wooyeon says.

You sit up and grab her neck, strong enough for her to feel it but yet weak enough to make sure she doesn’t pass out. This time as you choke her. You are at your fastest. No when have you ever been this quick when it comes to thrusting even with your past relationships? 

“Fuck….Wooyeon. I’m going to cum.” These are the words that are going to mark your orgasm.

“Inside. Do it inside.”

“You…sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Just do it.”

Now when you reach your climax, you spew everything in her. Slowly you pump your cock to allow every drop to drip out. Once you are dry, you lay next to her.

“You sure you won’t get pregnant?”

“Actually….oppa….”

You sit up. “You aren’t on the pill?!”

“Yeah…”

“Wooyeon…are you going to be okay?”

“Let me tell you something. Woo!ah! is going to disband soon and this is my retirement plan.”

“Wooyeon-ah, I will take care of you as my wife but you shouldn’t be doing this when you are so young.”

“Well, we just did.”

You hug her close and kiss her on the lips briefly. “I’ll take care of you. We need to get married, have our child, and grow old together.”

“That sounds perfect.”

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buddie Fanfics: Multi-Chapter Mondays

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Hiatus Reading

Buck and Eddie have an EPIC LOVE STORY that spans 6 years and it deserves to be told! Since they're the loves of each other's lives and soulmates who share a once in a lifetime love that transcends space and time, in order to give it the attention it deserves, sometimes fanfics have to include multiple chapters so everything that needs to be included can be. The five fanfics below have more than one chapter and they follow Buck and Eddie as they journey through life. There's angst, emotions, romantic fluff, travel and some of them include smut.

6B Speculation

“I gave you a son and a family!” - 60.6K words; Rated Mature:  Eddie tells Buck he already gave him a son and a family and Buck realizes he misunderstood but they stop talking after their argument and they won’t have time to fix it before they almost lose each other again.

After 6x12 Speculation

Come with me to Italy!  - 25.2K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences:  Buck and Eddie take a 10-day trip to Italy so they can heal together but Eddie doesn’t know Buck’s also thinking about relocating to Italy to become a firefighter.

After 6x15 Speculation

“From here on out, it’s all a gift!”- 22.4K words; Rated Teen and Up Audiences:  Buck feels like the person he just met “sees” him for who he is and what he’s been through while Eddie feels alone and admits he doesn’t want to be anymore. Everything they’ve been searching for has been right in front of them for years and the universe is tired of waiting. To help them realize “it’s all a gift”; it hurls another shared trauma in their direction but will it be too late for them to appreciate it?

Season 7 FANON Speculation

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!” - Currently 28 chapters are available - 1.177M Words; Rated: Mature: This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!  Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it. But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be spectacular. This fic will take Eddie and Buck places the show refuses to go. This is a multi-chapter fic that will be posted one chapter at a time.

7x10 Finale FANON Speculation

“Don’t walk away from something before you even know what it is!” - 4 total chapters 52.3K Words; Rated: Teens and Up Audiences: Eddie decides to walk away when he feels like he’s missed his last chance to be with Buck and after another failed date, Buck considers why none of the people he’s ever dated felt right and it causes him to consider walking away from whatever he’s doing with the person he’s with. When another twist of fate rips them apart and they’re faced with losing each other forever, will they walk away from everything they’ve built before they even know what it is?   This is a multi-chapter fic and two chapters will be posted at a time.

[guilty-pleasures21]

Yooooooooouuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!! You SUCK!

I am obsessed with this adorable little spinoff I wrote for this, but I need to actually introduce the backstory before I can publish that 🥲.

6. Sigh. You're trash, you know that?

Part 1 - the machine

Part 2 - the period

Part 3 - the sparring

Part 4 - the socks

Part 5 - the sick day

Warnings: explicit description of sex (male x female). Praise kink.

----------------------------------------------------------

     Peter gave Peter a friendly punch on the shoulder as they walked out of the lift. “Good job on the mission today, Peter.” 

     “You too, Peter, we make a good team,” Peter agreed. Peter grinned. 

     “Yeah! It’s almost like you can-”

     “Read my mind? I know, right?!” The two of them burst into laughter and Miguel rolled his eyes at the silly joke. He tensed suddenly as he felt slender fingers sliding between his, but then he looked down and found his little girlfriend smiling up at him, almost like she’d known that he’d be annoyed by their inane conversation. He relaxed as she squeezed his fingers reassuringly … but then Peter decided to open his mouth again. 

     “Hey, so, uh, about the mission report …” 

     X waved him off, knowing how much the Peter’s hated writing up the reports. “I’ll-”

     “You two will take care of it,” Miguel told them, tightening his grip on X’s hand. She’d always let them get away with not writing the reports, giving him the excuse that they’d end up editing so much of it anyway that they might as well have just written it themselves. “X already made a template for everyone to use, so I want it done perfectly and I want it done by Monday.” 

     The Peter’s looked like they were about to argue about having to work over the weekend, but then Miguel fixed them with a threatening glare and any protests they might have had died on their tongue. 

     “Uh, sure, Miguel. We’ll get it done by Monday.” Miguel nodded in approval and the two of them left without another word. X shot Miguel a questioning - and amused - look when they were alone. 

     “What was that about?” she asked. Miguel sighed and turned to face her, brushing a loose curl behind her ear. 

     “You can’t keep doing everyone’s work for them, querida,” he told her gently. “They’ll never learn otherwise.” He ran his thumb across her bottom lip and she lowered her head as her lips stretched into a shy smile. 

     “Oh. Okay.” 

     Miguel felt his stomach flip at her sudden change in demeanour and he moved his hands to her waist to tug her closer to him. 

     “So,” he began, his voice low and smooth as he leaned over her, “now that your weekend is free, what do you want to do, cariño?” 

     His girlfriend giggled at his mischievous tone and he felt his heart stutter in his chest. She slid her arms around his neck and looked up at him with a suggestive smirk. “Well, I might have an idea or two …”

     Miguel grinned and slid his hand back up to her cheek as he bent over to lower his mouth to hers. But then the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted his thoughts. 

     “Don’t mind me!” Ben reassured them loudly as he rushed past. “Just walking past in this very public, very crowded building. I’ll see you guys around! Have fun, you crazy kids!” 

     Miguel narrowed his eyes in irritation and X laughed as she turned his face back to hers. “Maybe we should go home first, querido?” 

     Miguel relaxed at the sight of her indefatigable smile, then started tapping on his watch to open up a portal. X stopped him before he could, however, curling her fingers around his wrist quickly. He looked up at her, confused, and she flashed him a mischievous smile. “Can we go back to my place? I have a surprise for you.” 

     He raised an eyebrow, considering. 

     He’d never been too fond of surprises, but she’d always known exactly what he needed, even before they’d started dating. X fixed him with an eager expression and Miguel’s lips twisted with excitement as he found himself looking forward to whatever she’d had planned for him. He opened up a portal to take them to her place, then returned his hands to her waist once they’d stepped through. X snickered as Miguel pressed his lips to hers and bent her backwards in his arms. He groaned as she scrunched his hair between her fingers, then he slid his hands down her body to cup her ass. “Querida …” 

     X shivered as the deep sound of her boyfriend’s satisfaction rumbled through her body. Miguel smiled, then moved his mouth to her neck, nuzzling her skin with his nose and lips as he began walking her backwards to her bed. 

     “Miguel,” X chuckled, clinging onto his brawny shoulders as he squeezed and stroked her waist and ass. “Miguel, wait!” 

     He pushed her onto the bed and climbed on top of her and her heart fluttered at the way his wavy hair fell into his copper eyes. He was so handsome, her boyfriend, so hot and so sexy. Miguel raised an eyebrow at the look on her face, knowing exactly what she was thinking, and she swallowed hard as another swarm of butterflies took flight in her stomach. 

     “U-Um, the surprise …” she reminded him softly, turning her face away from his as her lips stretched into a bashful smile. Miguel grinned and pressed a kiss to her cheek before getting up off of her. 

     “It’s gonna be so good, Miguel!” she continued, pushing herself to her feet and standing before him. “But I have to get it ready first! Can you, like, go shower, or something?”

     She bounced on the balls of her feet as her enthusiasm grew and Miguel felt his chest warm at the now familiar quirk. He stepped closer to her to slide her hands around his waist and she reached up to ruffle his hair. “Yes! Go shower! Then you can get your hair all wet and stuff.”

     It was amazing how something as simple as him getting his hair wet was enough to make her so happy; how he was enough to make her so happy. Miguel bent over to kiss her again and X wrapped her arms around his neck as he slid his tongue into her mouth. She laughed when his hands drifted back down to her ass again and took a step away from him. 

     “Go!” X commanded, turning him around and attempting to shove him towards the toilet. Miguel let out a soft chuckle and did as she'd asked, but he left the door open just an inch; just enough for her to hear him turn on the shower but make no effort to remove his clothes and get into it. 

     "Miguel!" she chided him, knowing that he was waiting, listening intently for any hint as to what she might be preparing for him. He let out an exasperated sigh, but his lips curled at the ends as he pushed the door closed before deactivating his suit and stepping under the water. He tried to focus his hearing again, but she was too quiet, each movement of her body carefully controlled, each step cautiously placed so he wouldn't be able to catch a sound. He closed his eyes and his lips twisted into a smirk as he soaked himself in the warm water. It didn't really matter what she'd gotten him though, because he knew how he'd be thanking her for it anyway; knew how she was hoping he'd be thanking her for it. His blood rushed to his core in anticipation, his heart pounding at the thought of her body beneath his, her soft skin sliding against his own, her sweet voice moaning his name as he pleased her in all the ways he'd come to know she enjoyed. He exhaled, trying to calm himself down as he continued to wait, but his patience was starting to wear thin. Mierda, what was taking her so long?

     She twisted around, studying herself in the mirror. The red lace wrapped tightly around her breasts, squeezing them together and demanding they be given attention. The scandalous material matched the gauzy fabric stretched over her crotch, just covering up all her naughty bits. She tugged on the tight straps criss-crossing her ribs and waist, adjusting them so that they sat perfectly on her curves, accentuating every hollow and line. She bit her lip as a rush of adrenaline shot through her in anticipation of his reaction. Would he like it? God, she hoped he'd like it! He'd better like it! Oh! The socks! 

     She ran over to his drawer and pulled out a pair of thick, woollen socks, slipping them on before returning to check herself in the mirror again. She knew how much it thrilled him to see her in his clothes - how aroused he became by the sight of the oversized fabric slipping and sliding off her small frame, exposing patches of her bare skin for him to stroke and squeeze whenever he managed to grab hold of her. And the socks were the perfect last touch to the outfit. 

     “Miguel?” she called, her fingers clenching and unclenching behind her back nervously. “I’m ready!”

     He shook the last few droplets of water out of his hair before wrapping the towel around his waist. She sounded apprehensive; worried that he might not like what she'd had planned. But that only made him all the more determined to love it. All the care, all the effort, all the love she put into everything she did for him: that was the biggest gift he could ever have asked for. He pulled the door open and stepped out of the bathroom, ready to show her as much … but then his gaze fell upon her and every single thought flew out of his brain. 

     She was gorgeous: the curled ends of her hair brushing over her delicious breasts, all wrapped up in the naughty red lace like a present meant just for him; the thin red straps clinging to her exquisite curves, each line giving his eyes a perfect path to follow down her torso; the flimsy underwear hanging from her waist, challenging him to rip it apart and take her however he wanted. And maldita sea, those socks! Those oversized brown socks, sliding down her calves, reminding him of just how small she was compared to him - how easy it was for him to pick her up and have his way with her.

     "Miguel?" X asked him softly, unable to hide the delighted smile lighting up her face. "Do you … like it?" 

     He looked up at her, dazed, his red-brown irises swallowed whole by his dark pupils. Then his eyes fell back down to her body, drawn to her form like a magnet. God, he was hot, his deep-set eyes and full lips and the damp strands of hair falling over his forehead. X bit her lip as he walked over to her, her stomach flipping wildly as his gaze roamed over her figure.

     "Cariño," Miguel murmured, his voice awestruck. He stopped in front of her and she could feel the heat radiating off him in waves, the delicious scent of him drifting through the air and wrapping around her senses. He curled his fingers around her waist slowly, carefully, his muscles clenched with restraint as he continued to appraise her. "Querida." 

     She was so sexy. So beautiful and so perfect and so … He ran his fingers up and down her sides, trying to figure out where to start; if he even wanted to start or if he just wanted to look at her, all dressed up so nicely for him. Just for him. She raised her hands to his shoulders, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and he struggled to understand how she could look up at him like that; like he was the one with the upper hand, like she was the one who would do anything he asked her to, even as she was standing before him looking like … that. He exhaled raggedly, his hands moving lower down her sides with every stroke, and X grinned as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling her body flush against his. 

     “¡Maldita sea, cariño!” Miguel let out a low groan as X pressed her lips to his collarbone. He squeezed her waist, trying to restrain himself so she could take her time to explore, but then she ran her thumbs across his nipples and his cock sprang to life immediately. 

     “F*ck,” Miguel breathed, digging his fingers into her ass. He lifted her onto his hips, and X brushed her thumb across his lips as he carried her over to her bed, noting the way his jaw clenched at her tender caress and the way his breathing hitched as she tugged his bottom lip. She pinched his towel between her toes and pulled it off as he turned around and sat down on the end of her bed.

     He licked his lips as his eyes travelled across the peaks and valleys of her plush breasts. He was going to take his time with her tonight. Mierda, he was going to take his time: stroking and squeezing and licking and nipping until the only thing she could remember was his name. He ran his hands up and down her thighs, stroking her smooth skin, and her toes curled at the feeling. 

     “Miguel?” X squeaked, the breathy tone of her voice travelling straight down to his centre. Miguel sucked in a breath as he squeezed her thighs, but he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her chest. F*ck, she looked delicious. 

     “Hmm?” he hummed, snaking his thumbs beneath the straps of her underwear to rub the joints between her pelvis and thighs. X gasped as the sticky liquid began to leak out of her - just like it always did - and Miguel shook his head slightly as the smell hit him like a punch to the face. He sucked in a ragged breath, then gripped the tops of her thighs so he could pull her apart slowly. He dragged her forward slightly, just enough for her to feel the tip of his cock brush against her clit, just a touch, and already, he could feel her beginning to throb against him. 

     “F*ck. I haven’t even done anything yet, cariño,” he pointed out to her, a weak chuckle falling from his mouth. Dios, she was gorgeous, so perfect and so completely his; all his to do with whatever he wished. He removed his hands from her underwear and slid them up her torso to squeeze her breasts. X’s head fell back with pleasure and Miguel’s eyes honed in on the delicate length of her neck. He leaned forward to slither his tongue along her neck and X squeezed her legs together as he grazed her skin with his fangs, inadvertently rubbing herself up against him and eliciting a frustrated twitch out of her p*ssy. 

     “Hngrh!” X let out a surprised yelp and Miguel groaned at her obvious desperation for him. He dug his fingers into her ass and pulled her tightly against him, allowing his cock a brief moment of relief as her warm core pressed up against him. His hips moved slightly, instinctively trying to grind up against her, but he forced himself to stop. 

     “Miguel, can you …” X wriggled around as her body heated up at the feeling of him pressing against her but refusing to move. “What are you doing, querido?” 

     He almost gave in - almost started grinding up against her at her use of the sweet term, exactly as she’d intended for him to do - but he’d promised himself he’d take his time with her. He shuffled up the bed a little, pushing her back slightly so that their cores weren’t touching anymore, and X whined in frustration. “Migue-el!” 

     Miguel chuckled and cupped her breasts again so he could bury his face in them and begin licking and nibbling her soft flesh. He heard a whimper escape her throat as he moved his mouth to where her nipple would be and began sucking hard on her through the barely there material of her bra. Ay, carajo, what beautiful underwear she’d gotten for him, all his to enjoy, all his to admire. He closed his mouth around her entire breast and flicked his tongue across her stiff peak, and X arched her back as her body grew more aroused. She writhed around in his arms, her soft little p*ssy pulsating against his cock insistently, and Miguel moaned as he circled his arms around her waist. 

     “Tan hermosa, cariño (So beautiful, sweetheart),” he murmured into the crook of her neck, knowing how much she loved it when he praised her through it. “So f*cking gorgeous. And all of this, just for me?”

     He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the base of her ear before pulling back to look at her. X nodded shyly, pleased that she’d managed to do such a good job, and Miguel grinned as the blood rushed to the surface of her skin. He leaned forward to brush his lips against hers, sneaking his tongue into her mouth and sweeping it around in slow, appreciative strokes. X moaned and Miguel responded in kind as she wrapped her legs around him, her pretty little p*ssy already so wet for him. He snickered as she squeezed her legs together, trying to control her body so he could take his time to enjoy her - to touch her and taste her and do whatever he wanted with her - but she just couldn’t seem to help herself when it came to him. 

     “Then we’d better make the most of it, hmm, querida?” Miguel pulled away to meet her gaze and X bit her lip as she nodded, the smile still plastered across her face: he liked it. He really liked it, if the smoothness of his tone and his inability to keep his eyes off her was any indication of his feelings. 

     His heart stuttered at the way she peeked up at him from beneath her eyelashes, her expression so irresistibly adorable. Then he placed his hands on either side of her breasts and pushed them together so they bounced deliciously. He licked his lips at the sight, admiring her beautiful body so nicely dressed up for him, then he leaned forward to kiss her again. 

     She kept her hands curled tightly around his shoulders as he shuffled higher up the bed, keeping herself steady, and her stomach buzzed when he wrapped a strong arm around her waist to hold her against him. Miguel pulled her down on top of him as he lay back and X grinned as she lowered her mouth to his neck. She loved surprising him: he was so knowledgeable and so experienced, so it always drove her giddy with excitement whenever she managed to catch him off guard or render him speechless. Miguel moaned softly as she licked and sucked the warm skin of his neck, gentle praises falling from his lips at her teasing. Finally, she sat up and turned around, settling herself back on top of him and taking hold of his cock.

     Her movements were slow and careful as she began kissing and licking his tip, her fingers brushing his shaft gently as she took her time getting used to the feel of him. She was still so nervous - so shy - like she didn't know how absolutely wild she drove him, with her pretty smile and her beautiful eyes and gorgeous little body. Miguel reached up and slid his finger beneath the strap of her thong, plucking it back and running his knuckle along her length. X's entire body tightened at the sensation and Miguel let out a chuckle, delighted by her sensitivity. He circled her entrance lazily, coating his finger in the sticky liquid trickling out of her. Then he slid into her, the movement easy thanks to how wet she already was. X gasped as he moved his finger in and out of her and she let out a soft whimper as her legs twitched in response to his teasing.

     “Ay … Querida …” Miguel sighed as she swirled her tongue around him and sucked on him gently. She let out a low moan, delighting in the sensation of his thick girth brushing against the insides of her cheeks, and Miguel shuddered as the vibrations danced along his length. He pulled his finger out of her as his head fell back on the pillows, the pleasuring overtaking his body, but then she stopped and sat up again.

     She turned around, noting the way his body tensed when she abandoned his cock. But still, he waited, watching her patiently as she decided what to do next. X took his hands and guided them to the bottom of her ribs, giving him the chance to brush his thumbs along the undersides of her breasts. Her toes curled as his hands climbed higher up her bra and her eyes fluttered shut with how good it felt. Miguel squeezed her soft flesh appreciatively, but then she heard the sound of fabric ripping and she opened her eyes to find her boyfriend's claws extended over her now exposed breasts. She looked up at Miguel in surprise and he flashed her a sheepish smile before returning his attention to her chest.

     “We'll get you another one, querida,” he reassured her, gliding his fingers across her pebbled nipples. “One that unhooks in the front next time.”

     He shot her another naughty smile, then he pushed himself up the pillows so he could take one of her breasts in his mouth. 

     She shuddered as Miguel swirled his tongue around her, tasting her like she was an especially sweet dessert he wanted to savour. He moaned softly as his hands drifted down her back and X went dizzy as the satisfied sound rumbled into her chest. Miguel slipped his long fingers into her underwear and curled them around her ass, squeezing her so that her centre rocked against his, and X squeaked with surprise as her clit brushed against his cock again.

     “Mmm, querida …” Miguel flipped them over suddenly, trapping her beneath him, and ran his hand down her body, setting a path for his nose to follow. He nuzzled her gently, sprinkling her skin with little bites and kisses, then he began rolling his hips against the mattress as he buried his face in her breasts, his aching cock searching desperately for some relief as he nipped and teased her soft flesh. 

     “Arañita,” he groaned, his voice so thick with desire that it sounded little more than a growl. X shivered at the sound, then pawed at his back, silently asking him to move up over her. Miguel pushed himself up on his hands and grinned smugly at her as she tugged his shoulders, trying to pull his lips down onto hers. 

     Oh, God, he was hot! His lips twisted into that mischievous smirk, the muscles in his shoulders and arms flexing as he lowered himself on top of her. X went dizzy for a moment, overcome with admiration for her handsome boyfriend, then she wrapped herself around him when he began kissing her again. Miguel slid his hand up to her breast and rolled his thumb around her nipple as he caressed her soft flesh in between his fingers. X’s back arched off the bed in response and Miguel quickly caught her lower lip between his teeth, tugging on it teasingly as she writhed around beneath him. 

     “Ah!” X gasped at the flood of pleasure overwhelming her senses and Miguel laughed when he saw the unfocused expression on her face. He began making his way down her body again, folding her legs against her chest and nipping her ankles when he got to them. 

     “Are these … my socks, querida?” he asked, another giddy laugh bubbling out of his chest at the sight of the soft material sliding down her slender calves. X whimpered, trying to get out a response, but all she could do was nod. Miguel grinned and pressed a kiss to her ankle before flipping her over onto her knees. X let out an exclamation of surprise, then fell onto her chest when he pressed her hole through the fabric of her underwear. She let out another small whine as her hips began moving against him, begging for relief, and Miguel ripped her underwear off all together. He slid his thumbs back up the centre of her ass, then circled both of her openings, prompting little gasps and pants to fall from her lips. He pressed her holes lightly, teasing her, then he slid his thumbs into her, dipping them in and out of her entrances to please her. 

     “Oooohhhh,” X moaned, her entire core pulsing excitedly at the feeling of his thick digits rubbing her sensitive skin. Her eyes rolled back in her head with pleasure and it wasn’t long before she was shuddering beneath his touch. “M-Miguel …”

     She rolled over onto her back and blinked up at him dazedly, trying to regain her focus. But then he was leaning over her with that wicked grin again, his wavy brown hair falling into his fiery eyes, and her mind went blank at the sight. 

     “Don’t worry, querida,” he told her, the expression on his face anything but reassuring. “We’re just getting started.” 

     “I don’t think I can come anymore, Miguel,” X whimpered, her legs trembling around her boyfriend’s head. She'd managed to grab her phone at some point to check the time and she'd been bewildered to find that two hours had passed since they'd started. Two hours?! She hadn't even realised how quickly time had been slipping away! She tugged Miguel's hair now, trying to get him to stop, and he finally lifted his head. 

     “Está bien, mi amor (It's okay, my love),” he reassured her, licking up the sticky liquid dripping down his chin. “Solo uno más, querida, uno más (Just one more, darling, one more).”

     He pushed himself to a seat, then pulled her up onto his lap. X squeezed her legs around him, trying to close them and gain a bit of respite, but Miguel cupped her ass, pulling her centre closer to his.

     “Miguel …” X whined, her voice high-pitched and her words slurred. 

     “Dame uno más, querida, uno más (Give me one more, darling, one more),” Miguel repeated encouragingly, sliding his swollen cock along her soaked folds. “Puedes hacerlo, arañita, I know you can do it (You can do it, little spider ...). Such a good girl, hmm? Taking me in so nicely, taking my d*ck into that pretty little p*ssy of yours.”

     He poked her hole with his tip, dipping in and out of her cautiously, then he moved his hands to her waist and tugged her towards him, easing his cock into her inch by inch until he was buried inside of her completely. 

     “That's right, arañita. All the way in,” he praised her, smiling smugly at the dazed look on her face “Such a good girl.” 

     He knew it drove her mad when he called that, but only when he was already inside of her. He’d tried it once, at HQ, sidling up to her and congratulating her for doing a good job on one of the missions she’d gone on without him, but the line had fallen flat and her lips had pulled back into a grimace before she’d walked away. Then he’d tried it again, when they were sitting on her sofa, her shirt tossed aside, his hands wandering across her exposed skin. But again, she’d winced and pulled her clothes back on before settling in for a night in front of the television again. Miguel rolled his hips, pushing himself up into his girlfriend and allowing his balls to press deliciously against her ass. F*ck, she felt so good. 

     “You’re doing such a good job, arañita,” he murmured in her ear, continuing to grind up against her slowly. “So wet and so tight around my dick. Such a good girl, mi preciosa.” 

     A frustrated whine erupted from X’s mouth and Miguel snickered softly before pressing his lips to her shoulder. He licked and sucked on her appreciatively, grazing her skin with his fangs as he made his way up the side of her neck, then he pulled back when he heard a small sob escape from her throat. 

     “Aww. ¿Qué pasó, arañita? (What happened, little spider?)” he asked X, chuckling at the sight of the wet trail running down her cheek. She looked up at him with round eyes and he grinned as he brushed the tear away. He gripped her chin gently in his hand, tipping her face up to his, and her lips fell open at the sight of the satisfied look on his face. “Do you want to come again, princesa? Do you want to come with my dick inside of you this time?” 

     X gasped as her body contracted at his gentle praises and his slow thrusts, then she bit her lip and nodded quickly. He was being so soft and so sweet with her and holy shit, the heady smell wafting off of him when he was all sexed up and dripping with sweat? It made it so difficult for her to think about anything but how badly she wanted his lush lips to be pressed up against hers. She leaned forward, closing the distance between their mouths, and her boyfriend laughed again as her hips began moving against his. She felt herself go dizzy at the way the low sound vibrated out of his chest, but Miguel tightened his grip on her, keeping her upright against him. 

     “Such a good girl, princesa,” Miguel continued, moving his lips to her neck to murmur softly against her skin, “taking me in so nicely with that pretty little p*ssy of yours. Hmm? Look at what a good job you’re doing!”

     Holy shit! X’s head fell against his shoulder as another wave of arousal scrambled her brain. How could he speak to her like that? His tone so sweet even as he whispered such naughty words into her neck? Shit. She slid her fingers into his hair and her eyes rolled back in her head at how soft the damp strands felt. 

     “And that underwear you got for me?” Miguel told her, speeding up his movements just a little. “All dressed up so nicely, just for me? Tan hermosa, cariño, I almost didn’t want to take it off (So beautiful, sweetheart ...)."

     “Miguel …” X mumbled, collapsing against him and letting him take over entirely. Miguel grinned and shuffled forward slightly, reaching up to hold the bed frame so he could steady himself as he began thrusting harder into her. X sighed as he stretched her out, his thick cock stuffing her up so very nicely, his swollen tip hitting her sweet spot so deliciously. Then she tensed up as the white hot pleasure began tickling the edges of her brain. 

     “That’s it, mi arañita,” Miguel coaxed her, his smooth tone tipping her over the edge and prompting her body to start shuddering with pleasure. “Come all you want, princesa, you deserve it. Taking me in so nicely, such a good girl, mi querida.” 

     Dios, it felt so good the way her tight little p*ssy would flutter excitedly around his cock whenever he made her come. F*ck. He slid himself out of her one more time, letting every inch of his throbbing cock experience her desperate squeezes, then he thrust himself into her, filling her up with his sperm and displacing the now-dry c*m that he’d already placed there earlier. X squeaked in surprise as she scrambled against him, her fingers digging into his muscles as she tried to hang on against the force of his ejaculation. Then finally, they both finished, and Miguel released his tight hold on her. 

     X stumbled off of his lap, falling backwards against the pillows and pulling them apart. She sighed as she pushed her legs closed, finally allowing her aching thighs some relief. She blinked up at Miguel, trying to focus on his features in the dim light of the room, and found an equally hazy expression on his face. He shook his head, regaining control of his thoughts, then he grinned and reached for her waist, leaning forward to kiss her. 

     But quick as a flash, she darted out from beneath him, throwing herself off the bed. X pushed herself to her feet and dashed over to the cupboard, not stopping even when she heard him growl from behind her. She flung the doors open and blindly grabbed a shirt as he leaped off the bed and chased after her. Her arms flailed wildly as she pulled it down over her body and she’d just managed to poke her head through the hole when Miguel caught up with her, his eyes glowing an angry red, his fangs bared in a vicious snarl. 

     “¡¿Qué haces, querida?! (What are you doing, darling?!)” he exclaimed, grabbing the front of her shirt and twisting his claws into the fabric. X gulped and put her hands on his chest, keeping a foot of space between them. 

     “I am so tired, Miguel. I need to sleep.” She turned back to the cupboard to grab some of her underwear, wrenching herself out of his grasp. Then she swivelled back around and pat him on the shoulder reassuringly. “We can continue this tomorrow …”

     Miguel sighed as she stumbled into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. Maybe he’d pushed her too far. He walked back to his bed and tugged off the soaked and stained quilt cover before replacing it with a fresh one. He settled down onto the pillows, trying to relax as he waited for her to return to bed. But the seconds ticked by and she continued to hide in the toilet. Miguel swallowed down his fear, chiding himself about being so dramatic: she wasn’t hiding from him, she was just … cleaning herself up. Right? It wasn’t like he’d scared her away with his … burning eyes and his cruel fangs and his wicked claws and-

     “You are actually insane, you psycho.” He focussed his hearing on her voice as it drifted through the still closed toilet door and his heart stopped at her words. But then, “I love you.” 

     She opened the door and peeked out at him from behind it, her lips curled into an amused smile. And suddenly, he felt all the tension leave his body. X’s grin grew wider when she saw him settled on the bed and he pulled the covers down before calling out to her softly, “ven aquí, querida (come here, darling). We'll go to sleep. Come here.”

     He patted the space next to him and X dashed over to the bed delightedly. She hopped under the covers and snuggled up against him and Miguel chuckled as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

     “Night, Miguel, I love you,” she told him, just as she did every night before they fell asleep. Miguel’s chest warmed at the words and he shifted in position to better cuddle her against him. 

     “Good night, X,” he murmured into her hair. “Te quiero también (I love you too).”

     He stirred as a stream of sunlight snuck into the room from between his curtains. He squinted in the harsh light, then closed his eyes all together and wrapped himself tighter around his arañita. Dios, she was soft. He slid his hand up her thigh as the memories of last night started coming back to him. She’d been so warm and so soft and she’d looked so f*cking gorgeous in that sexy set of lingerie. He grinned and leaned over to press his lips to her neck as his fingers climbed higher up his girlfriend’s delicious body. He curled his fingers around her breast, but she flinched and nudged him aside before curling up into a ball. 

     “¿Querida?” Miguel asked, concerned by her uncharacteristically cold demeanour. “¿Qué pasa? (Darling? What's wrong?)” Had he done something wrong? Had she changed her mind and decided tat he really was too much for her? Too much for anyone to handle? To love?

     X sighed and turned around, forcing one eye open to look up at him. She furrowed her brows, still drowsy with sleep, then rolled over onto her back and began tugging at the hem of her shirt. Miguel helped her get it all the way off, revealing the tiny cuts and bruises littered across her skin. His eyes lit up as they roamed across her body and he brushed his fingers across the territorial marks. X snorted at the self-satisfied smile stretched across his face, then she rolled back over onto her side. “You’re such an idiot, Miguel.” 

     He pressed a kiss to her now bare shoulder, then returned his hand to her breast where he traced her nipple gently. X arched her back, starting to get aroused, and Miguel slipped his hand into her underwear, taking care of her. She was so cute and so soft and she fit so perfectly against him, the bodies melding together like they’d been sculpted around one another. X shuddered against him as she reached her peak, and Miguel nuzzled her neck affectionately whilst helping her reach her finish.

     She twisted around in his arms and gave him a lazy hug, then got up to take a shower. Miguel propped himself up on his elbow and his heart fluttered at how comfortable she was around him, walking around his room completely nude and completely at ease. He jumped up and raced over to join her, but then stopped in the doorway. 

     “Querida,” he began hesitantly, glancing at the fingernail and bite marks that decorated her back as well. X turned around and raised an eyebrow at him, waiting. “I wasn’t too rough with you last night, was I?” 

     She pressed her lips together, trying to stop the smile from rising to her lips at the memory of last night. 

     “No, I … I kind of liked it,” she admitted, her cheeks heating up at her own confession. She turned back to the shower and let out an exaggerated groan. “But you’re on your own today, querido: I need a break.”

Tags: @heubstr @zayai @amberbalcom14 @leahnicole1219

[caelwynn]

Oh, look, another update! (She said as if she hasn't consistently updated on Mondays and Thursdays for eleven months. >.>)

(Don't mind me, I am very loopy today.)

Anyway, in Chapter 17 of Choices: Winter, "The Solanen and Her Junimos," we get a little bit shorter chapter (under 5k for once) focusing on how Callie's relationship with the Junimos continues to rapidly deepen and expand. Callie investigates Jas's "Shadow Prince," Sterling experiences a bit of the Junimos' magic, and an unexpected trio observes everything.

Sneak Peek:

“Will my presence bother them?” Sterling asked. He had no desire to upset any spirits. That seemed like a horrible idea. “No. At most, they’ll just not show up,” said Callie as she knelt down. Reaching out with her hand, she brushed it along a scroll that he hadn’t noticed before. It immediately unrolled, startling him. Well, that certainly wasn’t natural. “Ah, here we go,” she said softly to herself. Sterling felt royally confused. “This is the final offering needed to complete this scroll. I… I’m unsure what exactly you’ll see. For me, when I’ve done this before, the world fades to white. I commune with the Junimos, strengthening our bond, and when I finally can see again, the room is fixed.” Her dark eyes peered at him worriedly. “If you’d rather stay in one of the other rooms during this, I wouldn’t blame you.” And miss out on seeing the Junimos? Experiencing magic? Fuck that. “If you don’t mind my being here, then I’d rather stay,” he told her.