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ahundredtimesover · 16 days

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I Want You to Stay (12) | 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; mentions of childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; mention of past experience of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts, business/property devt, and book talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; sexual content (18+)

Chapter Word count: 24.7k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

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

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii so this took a while but thank for being patient and showing so much love! This might sting a bit but I hope you enjoy it. We're close to the end so don't lose hope! 🤭🤭

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

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

There’s a kind of pain you don’t want to experience, one of a broken heart caused by someone you’ve given your all to. This doesn’t feel like that, but it’s close.

It’s so damn close that you feel your chest tightening, the unfamiliar feeling of loss of a person you never even had overwhelming you. You press your palms on your ears to block the sound of your heart breaking, but even that doesn’t do anything.

You let go, your fingers now shaking as you type away. Jungkook has asked you to send him your resignation letter so he can forward it to HR for documentation. It’s like saying goodbye to him all over again, and it doesn’t hurt any less.

This is all on you though, you remind yourself. Wanting him was wrong in the first place - he’s your boss, the man who pays you, who needs you so he could do his job, so you could make his life easier. But he’s also the son of the man that your family is indebted to; a man who, in a lot of ways, shaped the way you approach life and determine what you want out of it. Jungkook stands as a reminder of who you are and where you came from, of the childhood you had, and the decisions you made to get to where you are now. You let your guard down and let him in, and you let yourself fall for a man whose own past was always going to intertwine with yours.

You don’t know what you were thinking, kissing him and believing that things would fall into place. That was the thing - he kissed you and you kissed him back, a moment of weakness that you had no business having, as if almost doing it the first time wasn’t bad enough. You planned on leaving, and you hoped that you’d get to tell him on your own terms, that you’d have time to process your feelings and then explain yourself to him, that you’d be able to process his feelings and see the sincerity in them.

But life doesn’t always play out the way you want to, and you can keep thinking that people would react the way you hope they would but you’re human. You fell into his touch and wanted so much of it that you couldn’t think properly. He asked you to stay - expected it actually, which is the last thing you wanted him to do.

And now you’re left here with a lot of emotions that you don’t know what to do with - all conflicting, all overwhelming, and all seemingly out of your control.

You can’t deny what you feel for Jungkook. The thought that he feels the same should be something you welcome, but with how you both learned about it, and with him now knowing the secret you’ve been keeping, it’s hard to think how you both could move forward without those feelings of doubt, perhaps of distrust. You know enough that those aren’t good starting points for any relationship.

You’re doing what you have to do. Resigning was always the plan, but doing it this way wasn’t. You also didn’t expect you’d be leaving so much more than just a team you enjoy being a part of and a boss you’ve come to admire, a man who’s come to mean a lot of things to you.

And so even if this is the decision you’ll make every single time, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you to be making it. Perhaps it’s now just dawning on you that you’re truly walking away from this job, and that may mean walking away from, too. This is when you realize just how big that loss is gonna be.

Jungkook made you braver. He made you feel understood and less alone. He showed you that beautiful things do exist, that you can capture them so you could hold onto the good memories, and doing that is one way to move on from the things that hurt.

Without realizing it, he’d become the person you were willing to crawl out of your walls for. But just like him, maybe your timing wasn’t right either. No matter how strong the feelings are, something just happens to be more important than being with him - feeling free is one, knowing that you’re able to do this for yourself is another. There’s wanting sincerity, too, on his end and on yours.

You know you need time to sort yourself out, to know what you want outside of all this, but the way he goes on about his business is affecting you more than you expected. He’s essentially giving you two weeks to stay in the office. He’s having Lucas fly in immediately. The implications are breaking you even more - perhaps you’ll be kept out of the projects; maybe you’ll no longer do your morning routines with him.

Perhaps he’s still overwhelmed about everything he knows. And perhaps he’s realizing he doesn’t want that complication in his life anymore. Maybe he doesn’t want to deal with you and the mess you created, given all the stress and pressure he’s under.

Maybe you were that easy to let go, too.

The thought feels like a slap on the face.

But you’re the foolish one who wanted to leave but who also hoped he’d go after you. He didn’t do it last Friday. He’s not going to do that now. You doubt that after your last day, he would do it either.

The tears dance around your eyelids. Everything becomes blurry, and after the first one falls, you stand from your desk and head to the washroom. You give yourself just 10 minutes to silently cry. You hadn’t prepared for this enough, and now the thought of saying goodbye to the team and leaving Jungkook during a big project launch weighs heavily on you.

You calm yourself down, thinking that if you’d chosen to delay it, everything else would be harder - seeing him, being close to him, knowing you both feel the same way but not knowing if that’s enough. Or if it’s real.

You get to be selfish this time and leave for your own reasons. You get to choose which heartbreak you’ll face and for how long you’ll feel it. You get to decide which burdens you’ll carry and what you’re walking away from.

The team will understand. You’ll give your all for the next few weeks you’ll be around and make sure that Lucas guides them well. Hoseok will be supportive. You know that he’ll always encourage you to go where you’re happiest. You just hope he won’t carry any guilt for being one of the reasons why you stayed now that he knows the truth. CEO Jeon might still ask you to wait, or he might just not want to see you again if he knows what really happened with his son, and that’s something you’ll have to learn to deal with as well. You don’t want to think you’re burning bridges with this decision, but you also know that those who truly care would want this for you, too.

But despite all that, the guilt and the sadness don’t go away. You’d once thought you could be happy with Jungkook. He’d given you a peek into a life where you could be, and he’d given you a taste of what it’s like to feel that all-consuming desire for someone. You don’t know if you’ll have that or feel that again for another person, but you at least now know what you’re searching for.

Maybe you’ll get over yourself and find the words to tell him what you feel or hope for both of you. Maybe you’ll find your way back to each other someday. You might also have to face the possibility that this decision is what pulls you apart for good, and the thought breaks your heart again.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. You think of the comfort of your morning routines and the shared silence. You think about the warmth you felt from all the food he’d sent when you were sick and injured. You think about that night you felt brave because he’d been with you when you were scared. You think about the tranquility of being in his presence as you gazed at the mountains and felt free being outdoors. You think about feeling understood during the times when you’d been honest and so had he.

These are the good memories he gave you, the ones you’ll hold onto as you go through all this. You wonder if he keeps them in a nook in his heart the way you do, and if he’ll hold onto them as well as you walk away from him and from what you could’ve been.

The thoughts are enough to suspend your sadness for a while. You fix yourself up and while it wasn’t a big cry, your slightly swollen eyes could still give you away. You decide it’s not much of a problem. Until, of course, when you make it back to your desk, about to sit down to resume your tasks, and Jungkook opens his door and locks eyes with you.

There’s a moment where you hold each other’s gazes, and you see his face fall a little, softening briefly before he looks away, the seriousness coming back again. He attempts to say something but he stops, looking down at the papers he’s holding instead and asks you to photocopy them for distribution to the team.

You nod in confirmation, and as you’re about to walk out, Hoseok shows up.

“Are you free?” He asks Jungkook. “I need to run some things with you.”

“Sure,” Jungkook replies, glancing at you before walking back to his room.

Hoseok finally turns to you and sees your glassy eyes. His face falls, unsure how to comfort you during this time. He was never sure how to do that before, and he feels heavier thinking that so many times when you still worked for him, you probably wanted to quit but couldn’t. And that maybe his claims of needing you around to help him helped keep you here, in a place that wasn’t giving you that joy and satisfaction that you deserve.

“___,” he calls out. “I got the notice. How are you feeling?”

“Well, I see that word travels fast,” you giggle, an attempt to avoid a somber conversation. You also don’t know how to explain whatever it is you’re feeling so it’s not something you’re keen on addressing.

“HR was actually the one that informed me and uncle,” he explains. “Losing you is a big deal so they thought to let us know right away. And I only mean that because you’re an integral part of this company. And you… you matter to my family. You matter to me, and I know you matter to him.”

Hoseok gestures towards Jungkook’s direction, prompting you to look away. The man in front of you sighs and apologizes, adding that you’ve come to mean so much to the people he cares for, including his wife.

“You welcomed me to your family, Hoseok,” you respond. “You and A-yeong treated me like one and I always will be. But none of the sadness yet. I’ll still be here for the next month.”

“I’ll take my time in saying goodbye then,” he says, his genuine smile serving as the comfort you badly need. “And I hope it’s not for good.”

“Not to you,” you assure him. “I’m not that easy to get rid of.”

“Good,” he says, his eyes softening in understanding and acceptance. “I’ll just meet with Jungkook. I’ll catch up with you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” you say. “And uh, thank you.”

Your smile holds in it a lot of emotions for the man who’s become your friend all these years. And you know that whatever happens with Jungkook, Hoseok will always be a person you’ll treasure.

You walk out while he enters the room and closes the door.

Jungkook’s eyebrows are scrunched as he gives instructions over the phone while also typing on his desktop. Hoseok can sense the stress and tension all over his cousin, and he hopes that especially with this, the younger man finds it in him to talk about what he’s feeling. There’s fear that he’ll keep it all to himself again, and in doing so, he might just push you away even more.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” Hoseok asks after the call ends.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Jungkook huffs.

There’s a beat of silence before Hoseok speaks again. “So, you already have a replacement for ___, huh?” He says, having just heard Jungkook’s conversation about Lucas’ work visa requirements over the phone. “Isn’t that too fast?”

“The Arts Center launch is in a couple of weeks. I can’t have delays,” Jungkook explains. “Sending Lucas here will require less time than looking for a new assistant. He’s familiar with the project and he’s used to working for me so he can take over with the preparations. I’ve received father’s approval for his transfer.”

“What about ___, then?”

“What about her?” Jungkook asks bitterly. “She’s resigned. I’ll have her focus on turning everything over and documenting key projects and practices. She has vacation leaves to use up for the last month she’s here.”

“Just like that?” Hoseok questions. “She resigns today and then you’ve gotten everything sorted out for her departure, just like that? As if you can’t wait for her to leave?”

“She wanted this,” Jungkook counters. “You heard what Mr. Ri said. She’s been wanting to do this for years, and I’m just making sure she’s not bothered by what she’s leaving behind. Having Lucas here will assure her that the team will continue to function and that she’s not delaying anything by deciding to leave. She doesn’t have to worry about anything.”

And it’s the truth. Hearing what you went through and that you’d thought of resigning several times before makes Jungkook think that you haven’t been happy here for a long while. He’s unsure if you’d always planned on leaving before the Arts Center launch, or if what happened last Friday prompted you to do this now. But still, it seemed so easy for you to make the decision, as if you can’t wait to leave him, as if being around him hurts you that much, as if you know that whatever it is you’re looking for isn’t here.

Jungkook spent all of last weekend replaying that night in his mind - from the way you pulled him close to you and to the way his heart broke when you pulled away. He doesn’t know what you want from him. You kissed him as if you wanted him. He felt your desire as your hands danced around his chest, as you moaned against his lips, as you thrusted against him like you wanted more, and he would’ve given it all to you, he would’ve given you everything, but the words he’d never told anyone slipped from his mouth and somehow, that’s what made you create that distance.

Perhaps it’s what made you not want to stay.

But he wouldn’t have known because he didn’t ask. At the thought of you no longer being by his side, he faltered. At the thought of losing the routine you’ve both created and the comfort you’ve been giving him everyday, he caved in. He lost all sense and just wanted to keep you. He’d disregarded every rule, crossed every boundary he created, and thought of nothing else but to be with you. He made the mistake of not thinking about you, the person he wants.

He naively believed that your expression of desire meant that nothing else mattered - you’d be with him regardless. But he realized that maybe he doesn’t know you at all. He would’ve risked everything but maybe you wouldn’t. You make him happy and that’s all he cares about but maybe he’s not enough for you. He’d do anything to be with you everyday but maybe that’s not what you want.

The thought that that moment made you realize that maybe, he’s not what you wanted after all creates another crack in his heart. That cold, stubborn heart of his hasn’t felt much in years but it betrayed him this time. It called out for you and he’s afraid to find out that it still will, after everything.

“Have you spoken to her?” Hoseok pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies. “I gave her my recommendation letter, told her about Lucas replacing her, and that she still has leaves to take.”

“I meant about both of you,” Hoseok clarifies. “About what you both feel, about what that means and what happens after that.”

“What is there to talk about?” Jungkook groans. “She left me that night. I come here today with a resignation letter on my desk. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t want you,” Hoseok says.

“It doesn’t mean she does,” Jungkook counters. “Clearly, her happiness outside of this company is her priority. And it should be. She doesn’t have a reason to stay here anymore.”

“And what if that happiness could include you? Did you even think about that?”

“Then she could’ve said that if she wanted to. It was her decision, it was her call.”

“You think it’s that easy to say that? Then why don’t you go ahead and tell her what you feel and want?”

“I did!” Jungkook almost yells now, thankful for the thick walls of this room. “And she pulled away! She said she couldn’t do this, that she couldn’t do this with me. That tells me everything I need to know, Hoseok. Whatever she feels for me isn’t that strong. I was stupid to believe an overheard conversation. I heard that she liked me and I thought, all I had to do was tell her that I felt the same way. But it wasn’t enough. I asked her to stay and she said she couldn’t. I don’t matter to her. Not in the way that she matters to me.”

“Why did she cry, then?” Hoseok asks. “Did you notice that?”

Of course Jungkook did. He’s seen you cry a few times, a sight he never wants to see again, and seeing your puffy eyes earlier made him want to just forget everything and hug you so he could help make the hurt go away. It’s something he’s wanted to do before and there’s a reason why he never did. Today, he knew that doing so would make it harder for him. So all he could do was look away.

“She wouldn’t be that upset if all this didn’t matter to her. If you didn’t matter that much to her,” Hoseok adds.

“This job mattered to her, too. You and I know how she works. Maybe there’s guilt or worry that she’s leaving at this critical time, which is why I’m trying to make the transition easy,” Jungkook reasons. “She’s leaving a lot of things and people behind and that could be hard for anyone. She’s crucial to the team but I don’t want there to be anything else that would hold her back. Not anymore.”

“But all these arrangements… it’s as if it’s so easy to replace her,” Hoseok sighs. “Are you even giving yourself time to just process all of this?”

“And then what? Give myself time to realize again that I can’t do this without her? I already know that I can’t, I can’t replace her, not in any way but I…” Jungkook heaves. “I can’t give in to those feelings and end up asking her to reconsider her decision. She has a life to live outside of this but this is mine. I have a project to launch, a name to uphold…”

A broken heart to live with, he doesn’t say.

“I don’t know what else to do but this,” he adds, his head bowing down as he pinches the corners of his eyes. He’s just trying to deal with losing you in more than one way, and trying to maintain whatever professionalism he has left after everything.

Hoseok sighs as he watches his cousin stop himself from falling apart. It’s true that everything feels so sudden. Perhaps for you, the best decision you could make after what happened last Friday is to leave and he wouldn’t fault you for that, especially after what you gave up to be here. And maybe Jungkook is just trying to deal with that pain of losing you as his assistant and the possibility of more in the way that he knows how - distance, detachment. It’s how the younger man has always chosen to deal with things he can’t control, and as someone who’s seen him try to move on from his own past, it’s hard for Hoseok to stand by and watch Jungkook hurt this way when he knows that you care about him, too.

It wasn’t always obvious, but at one point, Hoseok started to notice things; he just never questioned them. You were always competent. When you were his assistant, you paid attention to every detail and made sure that he was always at his best. But this past year, Hoseok had seen you pay attention to Jungkook in a more meaningful way. He’d seen you care for the younger man, showed him kindness that no one’s bothered to do before. And that’s done so much for him as he learned to open himself up, to allow himself to feel a different kind of vulnerability, to feel like he could be himself again, and that he’ll be accepted for all the scared and flawed parts of him.

All Hoseok can do is at least help his cousin be honest about what he feels and help him not lose you completely. But much as he wants to figure this out with Jungkook, life continues, and right now, there are some executive decisions both men have to make. So he redirects the conversation, and it’s half an hour later when they come up with a policy statement that they send to CEO Jeon as instructed.

That’s at least one other important thing that Jungkook can tick off his list. He’s determined to just focus on all work matters for today, hoping that would keep his mind off of you.

But that’s impossible when you still have a role to play in his life, as you enter his room after Hoseok exits, avoiding the older man’s worried gaze. You glance at Jungkook just once, placing a folder of documents on his desk for his signature.

He’s past the second of a dozen pages when he speaks, his eyes glued to the papers, not wanting to look at your face.

“I intend on telling the team about your resignation during tomorrow’s meeting,” he says. “I’ll release the company-wide announcement on Wednesday, followed by an email to other partners and contacts. The Arts Center launch is happening in a few weeks and we can’t have delays, so I’ll be endorsing Lucas soon after.”

“I understand, Mr. Jeon,” you say, trying to stabilize your voice. “If you need me to draft anything—”

“There’s no need, I will do that.”

“That’s noted, sir.”

You remain standing in front of him, watching him go through each page and feeling like you could burst any moment. Somehow he seems like that man you met almost a year ago - focused yet detached, close but so far away.

“You’re also no longer required to come to my apartment every morning,” he continues. “I’ll only need you to come on Thursday so you could give Lucas your access and brief him about the building and where things are. Mr. Ri could still drive you to work until your last day.”

“That service was extended to me for the purpose of assisting you every morning, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your voice sounding firm this time. “That is no longer necessary.”

You see him stop his movements for a second before he resumes and nods in acknowledgment of your statement.

As you watch him sign the last few pages, you allow yourself a brief moment to wish that you’d just left much sooner, during a time when he wasn’t around so you didn’t have to feel this agonizing pain of him slowly slipping away. Everytime you remind yourself that you made this decision, you’re pulled back by the thought that leaving didn’t have to mean that you’d lose him completely.

But with the way he acts now, with how he’s distancing himself from you and everything you shared, you’re starting to think that maybe he’s decided on this, too - that this is goodbye and that there’s nothing for both of you after this. It’s a hard pill to swallow but one you suppose you should - this was your call and you didn’t give him a choice in the matter. Perhaps this is his way of dealing with your departure as well. That’s something you can’t fault him for doing.

That leaves you with no choice but to deal with the pain, too. You don’t know exactly how. You’ve never really gone through this before. All your breakups didn’t hurt like this, probably because you knew from the beginning that they would end anyway, that you wouldn’t care more than you planned.

But Jungkook is different. You didn’t expect him to be the one you’d care for, that you’d yearn for, that you’d want with all of you. But you watch on as he slips right through your fingers, and whatever hope you had of finding your way back to him in the future withers away. This is how you lose him, and you’ll try hard to keep only the good memories with you.

He finishes signing the papers then he hands them over to you, his eyes only briefly meeting yours. He turns towards his desktop but he speaks again.

“HR requires me to have an exit interview with you,” he says. “But due to our personal circumstances, I don’t think that’s appropriate. I’ve asked Hoseok to conduct it instead. You may just schedule it with him within the next week. You’ll also be provided with a list of all the things you need to submit for your clearance. Just let me know what you need from me and I’ll work on it right away.”

It takes a while for you to respond, as you notice him slowly look your way.

“Understood, sir,” you manage to say, so softly like a breath, even you could barely hear yourself.

But the words come out, almost emotionless now as you just take in all his instructions. You gave him your letter only a few hours ago and now he’s got everything organized for your departure, almost as if he wants the complication, that is you, dealt with immediately.

You’ve disrupted his routine and messed up a lot of his plans. He’s always said he hates change, and you’ve caused one of the biggest ones he’s ever had to deal with. You don’t blame him for not wanting to do anything with you anymore.

You nod and head out, knowing that you’re slowly losing your place in his life, even as his assistant. He doesn’t call for you the rest of the day, even for coffee. You’re tempted to knock on his door and ask if there’s anything else he needs for you to do before you clock out, but you decide against it, slowly feeling like you’re no longer welcome.

You mindlessly walk out the building and down the street, feeling the weight of everything drag you down. You’d thought that finally doing this would make you feel liberated, like you’d be relieved of your burdens and even of a secret that you no longer have to keep. But as the minutes pass by, everything is just getting heavier and heavier. Your heart doesn’t loosen up, either.

And as you stare at the barely eaten sujebi from your favorite noodle house and the piece of choco pie that you bought from the convenience store that you now have no appetite to eat, you feel yourself falling apart. You don’t know what you were expecting but it wasn’t this. You hated doubting Jungkook’s sincerity about what he felt but now you’re faced with his seeming apathy. It makes you wonder once more if he really felt anything for you, or if he just mistook his practical need for you as something more.

Maybe you’ll never know. At this point, he’s just your boss who’s running a company and preparing to launch the biggest project of his life. All you can do is respect that and support him the best way you know how. If it’s distance he wants, then it’s what you’ll give. You suppose it’s the most you could do for him after making the decision to walk away.

Sitting in the meeting room the next day with the management support team chatting around you is a little unnerving. You try to engage with them and put on a smile that doesn’t feel real. The nervousness and guilt slowly creep in, especially when Jungkook arrives and orders for the meeting to begin.

“Before we start, I’d just like to make an important announcement,” he says, quieting everyone down as he sounds serious. “Ms. Cho has tendered her resignation and will be leaving the company in a month. I wanted to tell the team immediately so we could all work on the necessary adjustments. Lucas, my assistant during my time in Singapore, will be replacing her. I made this decision with the approval of the CEO to ensure a smooth transition. His first day will be on Thursday.”

In the silence, you look up, afraid of how the team is taking it. Manager Lee and Chin-sun have a mix of sadness and acceptance on their faces. Yohan has his head bowed down. And Do-hyun sits there, silently crying.

“Do you… do you not like us anymore?” She mumbles through her sniffles.

“Of course I do,” you say, your eyes softening. “It’s not about that.”

“Then what is it?” She asks. “Why… why are you leaving us? Why are you leaving Mr. Jeon?”

“I…” you start, looking at him for approval, and he nods as if to say that you’re free to say whatever you want to say. “I’ve been here for a while. This job is all I know and the years just flew right by. I feel like a new environment and a change of pace would do me good.”

Chin-sun turns to you, her look of understanding giving you the comfort that you need. She told you once that you deserve to live a life outside of work, that you need to find yourself and what makes you happy, and that she knows what that could mean. You’ve always looked up to her and how she’s handled everything in her life with such grace, and seeing her give you that nod of encouragement tells you that she gets it, and that despite the doubt that’s slowly crept in, she’s that hand on your shoulder, saying that you’re doing the right thing.

“Do you have to go this soon?” Do-hyun asks, her voice so unusually soft that it makes you feel like crying, too.

“I had initially planned on resigning after the Arts Center launch,” you say, the words hitting Jungkook as you see the way he clenches his jaw. “But the company I’ll be moving to requested for my start to be in two months. It’s too good of an opportunity to pass up on, so I decided to leave early.”

It’s not a complete lie. You had emailed Namjoon last night and inquired if the production officer position is still open. He responded right away to say that it is, and that he’s been hoping for you to officially apply, so you did. He insisted that based on your resume and your mindset and approach to work that he’s picked up from your conversations, the role is meant to be yours. He scheduled an interview in the next two weeks during your forced leave - for formalities’ sake, he told you - and you can start next quarter.

“I’m just… I’m just really sorry that I’m leaving in the midst of all the preparations,” you add, your nails sinking in your skin once more as you try to deal with guilt. “Things just happened so fast and I had to make decisions right away.”

“We’re gonna be okay,” Chin-sun assures you now. “You and Mr. Jeon trained us well. You, especially. We’ve been working together for over four years and I may have been in this longer but I’ve learned so much from you, ___. This breaks my heart more than you know but I’m proud of you, and I’m happy for you. I can at least say on behalf of the team that we don’t want this decision to burden you. You’ve held the fort for everyone for so long, you deserve to pursue whatever makes you happy.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, feeling the words getting caught in your throat as you try to keep yourself from breaking down.

Chin-sun isn’t always this sentimental, so you know it means just as much to her that she’s able to say these things to you.

“I agree with her,” Manager Lee says. “It’s gonna be different and definitely hard but the team will manage. You’ve given this company so much, and I know that wherever you’ll go, they’ll be so lucky to have you. Just… just don’t forget about us, okay?”

“Never,” you assure the team this time.

“Remember when I was being stubborn and didn’t want to go to the hospital when I was sick?” Yohan speaks up, looking at you now with glassy eyes. “You took half the day off so you could drag me there and then visited me everyday after work when I was confined for a week. The doctor said things would’ve been worse if I’d gone there even just a day late.”

You remember that incident clearly. It was the month before Jungkook arrived. The entire team was busy preparing everything but you noticed that Yohan looked unwell, and you insisted on taking him to the hospital so he could get checked and you’re glad you did. You can’t imagine how things would’ve turned out if you hadn’t.

“I was trying hard to keep it in because I didn’t want to be a burden,” he continues. “But you noticed, you always do. And I’ll always be thankful. Chin-sun may be my wise auntie but you’re my ever dependable older sister and I’ll miss you so much. No one can calm me down the way you do, and no one will tell me and Do-hyun off when we’re being whiney or ungrateful. I just hope that whatever you do brings you all the peace and happiness you deserve.”

At his words, Do-hyun sobs. Covering her face, she mumbles onto her palms, muffling her words that you can’t understand. She briefly looks up at you, pouting as she catches her breath, and then she cries again. Even when she’s being emotional, her child-like way of showing it is every bit endearing.

You remember the first time you met her, a brilliant fresh graduate with so much passion and energy. She was a little too bubbly for you at the beginning. She was always curious and lacked filter most of the time. But you got to know her genuine heart, one that often sought you, that wanted to get your approval, that hoped you’d return the affection she always gave you. She was like that bratty little sister that you enjoyed looking after, and seeing her be affected this way is affecting you more than you expected. You can’t make out what she’s saying, but you’re pretty sure that they’d make you cry either way.

And that’s what you’re trying hard not to do, as you bite your lips to stop them from shaking, hoping you won’t break down in front of them, especially in front of Jungkook.

Chin-sun comforts Do-hyun who’s calming down a bit now. Manager Lee and Yohan wipe their eyes. It’s a little too quiet, and you know they’re waiting for you to say something, too. Wanting to return their honesty, you start, trying to find the words that would capture everything you feel.

“You all know how much of myself I give to this job,” you start, your lips trembling as you try to get it together. “And from the beginning, I thought I would just come to work, do what I have to do, go home, and do it all over again. It’s the corporate world and we’re just trying to survive. You were all supposed to be just colleagues, people I had to just tolerate but that’s clearly not what happened. Without meaning to, you’ve all become such a big part of my life, more than I can ever express.”

You glance at Jungkook, hoping that he knows it includes him, but you see him clench his jaw and look away, and at this point, you don’t expect him to believe anything else you say, no matter how much you mean them.

“I know I’ve never been good at accepting and especially returning your affection,” you continue. “I’ve missed out on a lot of post-work dinners and weekend get-togethers. I’ve just, uh, I’ve just never been good at mixing work with my personal life. But even then, you never took it against me. You keep up with all versions of me, you encourage me when things get hard, and you never fail to let me know that I’m doing a good job. And that’s done so much for me more than you know.”

You take in deep breaths as you feel your tears dance around your eyes, and you blink to let them fall then quickly wipe them away.

“We’ve gone through so much together and I’ll always treasure all those moments and everything we shared,” you manage to say. “Leaving doesn’t change anything. At least, I hope it doesn’t.”

“Not to us,” Chin-sun assures you. “You’ll always be a part of this team.”

You mirror her smile, hoping your gratitude gets across.

The clearing of throat catches everyone’s attention, and you turn to Jungkook, remembering that you’re all gathered today for a meeting, and not some sentimental goodbye that’s turned into a cry-fest. You doubt he’d want to be around for this, so you apologize and say that he can continue on with the agenda.

“It slipped my mind that I have a call with one of the artists that Mr. Saito introduced me to,” Jungkook answers, looking at his phone then turning back to the team. “It’s in 10 minutes. We can resume tomorrow morning. It’s close to lunch anyway so you can all have your break.”

The whole team nods in acknowledgement. Except for you. He doesn’t have any scheduled calls today, as he was adamant on having this meeting done as soon as possible. He would have remembered if that call was that important and if it wasn’t, you know he wouldn’t have rescheduled this because making all the arrangements for your departure seems to be his top priority.

You suspend the thought, knowing that dwelling on how much he’s distancing himself from you will take away from the moment you shared with your team. Right now, they’re who matter. Jungkook had always insisted he wasn’t part of it, and you always disagreed. But with him stepping away, maybe he’s right.

He steps out, and with him no longer in the room, Do-hyun takes the opportunity to hug you. It’s not something you always return but today, it’s everything you need, as her warmth gives you the comfort you’ve been badly craving since last Friday. All you had was your pillow and that didn’t really do much. With Do-hyun wrapping you in her arms, you’re able to breathe, and she holds you tightly as you silently cry, as if she knows just how much it means to you to have a shoulder to cry on this time.

“Yah! Don’t cry,” she says in that mocking tone to tease you when you pull away.

Everyone laughs and you shake your head in embarrassment. “I didn’t expect to cry this much.”

“Chin-sun started it,” Yohan says, earning him a nudge and a playful glare.

“I just knew it mattered that you knew that it was okay,” she says, prompting you to look at her. “We may be crying and going on about missing you and things not being the same but… what you leave behind doesn’t make your decision any less valid, or even wrong. Only you would know what doing this could do for you, and there’s absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

You mumble your thanks again, feeling a bit of weight off your shoulders with the assurance that the team will be alright without you.

Outside, Jungkook looks on as everyone gathers around you, hugging you and wiping your tears, something he held himself back from doing.

There’s no call to be had. He’d intended for today’s meeting to be about discussing the plans moving forward, the added responsibilities that each member would have as Lucas adjusts, and how they could help in his transition. Jungkook didn’t expect for it to turn out the way it did, with each person expressing their gratitude to you, comforting you, and sharing stories that show just how much you matter to them.

This is who you are - someone loved by the people around her, despite the distance she keeps. There’s just always been this warmth about you that’s reflected in your ability to notice things, in your stubbornness, and in the way that you make every person feel cared for. It’s something he always admired about you. It’s also what he likes the most about you, and for all that you are, all that warmth and comfort that you deserve aren’t things he can give. Not when he’s trying to keep his own distance, not when he’s trying to keep himself together, and not when he’s trying not to hold you back any more than he already did.

In a way, he’s glad that the team was able to express themselves to you. He likes to think that their words at least relieved you of whatever guilt you were feeling about leaving, something he’s also unable to do. They were able to assure you that they understand and only wish for your happiness. On his end, he’s ensuring that you don’t have to worry about all the work you’ll leave behind. It’s his way of telling you that it’s okay.

Jungkook steps away when he hears you start to pack up. He walks back to his room and hears the team’s plans of grabbing lunch at the dining hall then eating it at the floor’s outdoor space. Do-hyun tells you to ask him to join everyone, and Jungkook hates that he’d have to turn the invitation down. He does so by pretending to still be on a call when you peek into his room, and at this point, he’s unable to read your face.

He can’t think that you were hoping he’d join you, as he can’t feed the illusion that you still want him after everything. He’ll just believe that it was relief he saw in your eyes and that just like him, you’re creating distance because that makes it easier for both of you.

But the truth is, it doesn’t, as an hour goes by and he spends it zoning out in the midst of sending emails and coordinating with Lucas about his move. Jungkook catches sight of you from his window, seated with your chair turned around, facing the shelves. He’d seen you do that a few times - in the midst of a busy day, or that very first time after he’d gotten mad at you. He wonders what it’s about now.

Maybe it’s your decision still weighing heavy on you, or that you still have so much to do for turnover. Whatever it is, Jungkook fights the urge to go out there and ask you, to tell you that you could take a break if it’ll help. Or to hug you if that’s what you need.

At this moment, he lets himself wish that the world would just suspend for a while and he could do all that without any consequences. He wishes you’re both in some alternative universe where you’re still you and he’s still him but without the baggage, without the secrets, without the intertwined past. He wishes he could just be with you without any of the burden nor the doubts, and you could just go on and be honest with what you both want, and feel what you feel with no reservations, and that all that would be enough.

There’s so much he wants to do for you but he can’t let himself be weak this time. You made your decision and he won’t hold you back. What he’ll do is try to make things easy for you, although the sullenness in your eyes - that he briefly sees when you turn around to face your desk - tells him that it doesn’t seem like it’s working.

But detachment is all he knows when it comes to things he can’t control. He can’t control you with the decision you made. He can't control how he’s taking it. And even after all that, he still can’t control the way he feels or the way his heart breaks seeing you like this.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

You look up from your desktop to a pair of questioning eyes, and you fumble for your tea and ask why he’s asking.

“Just curious,” Yoongi shrugs. “Jungkook’s been cross-copying Lucas in some of our emails and I don’t recall that ever happening before.”

You glance at your screen, seeing the messages that have the said man now looped in, all just today.

“Uh, yeah. Jungkook’s including him in the communications already,” you answer. “I… I tendered my resignation yesterday, Yoongi. I leave in a month.”

You knew that Yoongi would always be supportive. So many times before, he’d asked you how you imagined your life to be and what you were going to do once you thought your time in the company was over. He’d talked about his own plans, too, like opening up his own architectural firm in Daegu because that was always going to be his home. You knew that when the time came, he’d be proud of you because it would be your decision, and the look on his face right now tells you that he is.

“You finally did it,” he smiles. “How does it feel?”

“A lot of things,” you sigh, not wanting to give too much away. Not here at least. “There’s just a lot to think about. Maybe when I take one of my remaining leaves, it’ll finally sink in.”

“And how’s Jungkook taking it?”

You’re about to answer, trying to formulate in your head how you can explain how Jungkook has been. But it’s that moment when said man opens his door with papers in hand, his eyes flitting from Yoongi to you. You ask him if there’s anything he needs but he shakes his head and says he can handle it before closing the door. You stare at it for a while, hoping he’d come back out and say that he does need you to do something, but he doesn’t.

“I guess not well,” Yoongi points out, prompting you to return your gaze to him.

“He is, actually,” you counter. “He accepted my resignation with no questions asked, gave me a recommendation letter, organized everything for my replacement, told me to take my remaining leaves… he hasn’t given me more workload than I expected. He just wants me to focus on turning things over.”

“And that’s ‘taking it well’ for you?” Yoongi cocks an eyebrow.

“Well, he hates change. The last time that happened and he got shipped to Seoul but couldn’t bring his old assistant with him, he acted out. We both know how that went,” you say. “And now I’m causing another big change. We had a routine going. The Arts Center opens in less than two months. And then I decided to leave. He could be letting out his anger and frustration on me but he isn’t.”

“Hmm,” Yoongi hums.

After knowing you for 10 years, he’s come to realize that you have your ways of coping with things. So does Jungkook.

“I think I know what he’s doing,” he continues, earning him a questioning look from you. “He’s distancing himself. How else does he deal with anything that hurts or terrifies him? He’s losing you, ___. Even just from a professional standpoint, that’s a lot for him. On a personal level, even more.”

You look away, not wanting to think about the implications of Yoongi’s last statement. He picks it up, knowing that it’s probably hard for you to talk about right now.

“You may not agree, but you’re important to him,” he adds. “If you think this is easy for him, I’m telling you now that it isn’t. You know him. He’s… he’s not good at expressing how he feels. He just shuts everyone out. It’s his default. Even if the person he’s pushing away is probably the one he needs the most.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” you sigh.

You relate with Yoongi’s statement though. You pushed Jungkook away when all you wanted was to have him close. You decided to leave the company even though you hoped you could be with him. You may mean a lot to each other but it also doesn’t mean it’s enough.

“Is it really?” He questions.

When you really think about it, it shouldn’t. Jungkook likes you. You like him. For two people who are used to being on their own, finding comfort and strength in each other and then wanting that to last is simple. But how you both got here isn’t. You kept a secret from him that may have tainted his trust in you. He pursued you in a way that made you doubt his sincerity. You’re unsure how both of you could navigate all that, especially given the way you are.

Your silence prompts Yoongi to say that you don’t have to tell him anything, but that he’s there should you need anyone to talk to. He leaves, and suddenly, the silence is too loud.

The rest of the afternoon feels too long, with time ticking by so slowly. You always liked how your desk was separated from everyone else, as it gives you the peace and quiet you need to focus on your tasks. You’re also accessible to the VP, which makes everything easier and more efficient. But now, you hate it. There’s no sound but your thoughts ringing at you that you hear. And there’s no Jungkook calling for you to give you things to do.

Not speaking to him nor seeing him makes your day incomplete. You used to enjoy your shared moments, like when you’d enter his room with his cup of coffee and you’d remind him to take a break. All those times when you’d make him sign documents, with him groaning at something he’s frustrated about and then telling you what you can do after you ask if you can help him with something. Those instances where he’d look through portfolios on your shelf and do small talk with you, and those times you thought he just needed a break or a friendly smile or a hum of encouragement.

It’s only been the second day but there’s none of those now, and you don’t have anyone to blame but yourself. You let yourself be selfish for once by resigning. But you feel even more selfish by wishing he didn’t act so unaffected, that he’d still ask for you after what you’re putting him through.

You clock out at 6, initially considering letting Jungkook know but then deciding against it, knowing that his nonchalance will just cause a crack in your heart. The rest of your evening feels lonely even with your variety TV show on, so does your commute to work the next morning that you now have to get used to. It didn’t feel right to still have Mr. Ri drive for you, even though he messaged and insisted that he still could.

It’s Wednesday, and there’s something about the middle of the week that makes you feel uneasy - the week is halfway done; it feels like it flew by but it also can’t end fast enough. There are documents on your desk for review and some emails that you need to get to, but Mrs. Myung calling to say that CEO Jeon wants to see you is what does your head in. You suppose he’d want to speak with you at one point; you just weren’t prepared for it to be today.

The CEO’s office is like a personal museum, with photos and blueprints framed on the walls and miniature replicas of some of the company’s earliest infrastructure being displayed in the large room. The view of the city is stunning from all angles, and you can only imagine how much creativity it inspires. You’re still unsure how he thinks about you, but you bow shyly once he greets you and you take your seat when he asks you to.

“Jungkook said he’ll be announcing your resignation today,” the man says. “It seems that he has everything organized already and ready for your departure.”

“He has, Mr. Jeon,” you confirm. “I feel quite bad that I’m not helping him with the arrangements. He, uh, he seems to have wanted to handle all of it all on his own.”

“Well, he’s pressed for time. He had to make quick decisions with the Arts Center opening in a few weeks.”

“I… I apologize for leaving at such a critical time,” you say, bowing your head in shame once more. “I—”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he shakes his head. “You made a decision that was best for you. I guess I was just in denial that you’d do it so soon, or at least before the Center is revealed. You’ve worked hard on that, too. I’m sure it’s difficult for you to let that go as well.”

You look up and see the gentleness in his eyes, the same ones that looked at you the first time you met him - in this room, over 20 years ago. He was a stranger to you, but he was kind. There wasn’t much you remember from that day nor that period, but you’ll always remember the soft way he greeted you and introduced himself.

You look back at the years after that. He didn’t reach out much but you still felt him looking out for you and your mom. When you entered the company as an intern, he had that look of recognition, and then of pride.

Working here all these years, you’ve seen him be the critical, perfectionist, and passionate man that he is. People stopped what they were doing when he entered the room, they listened when he spoke, he commanded fear and respect, but you’ve seen his moments of tenderness and empathy, too. This is a man who commits himself to everything he does, something his son took after him. It’s probably why with his years of experience, he knows that for you, walking away from the project you poured your soul into is just as hard.

“It’s a sad parting, I would say. But I know it will turn out just as beautiful as your son had hoped. He really put his everything into that and I’m glad I got to see it almost completed,” you say, having visited the site not long ago. “Though I’ll no longer be here when the rest of the world sees it, I know it’ll give him that satisfaction and pride that he managed to bring to life all that he envisioned.”

“I don’t know about satisfaction and pride if you’re not around,” Mr. Jeon hums. “You’re leaving a big hole in his life, ___. And I don’t mean that just professionally.”

You turn away, unsure if you’re ready to address your feelings for Jungkook in front of his father.

“Looking back now, I was being selfish to you all these years,” he continues. “You had a hard time when you first started and that all happened under my watch. I encouraged you to apply for that EA position because I knew that Hoseok would choose you by your own merit, and he would treat you well. He would train and mentor you and I selfishly hoped that my family would be redeemed in your eyes. And Jungkook… he… he reminded me of myself when I was younger. And you had the spirit of your mother,” he adds, his eyes softening at the mention of her. “You had her heart and I hoped… I hoped that whatever gentleness you’d show my son would allow him to heal a little. It was unfair of me to give you that responsibility, especially given how he treated you at the beginning. I’m so sorry, ___. I feel like I was holding you back and I never intended that.”

“Please don’t apologize, Mr. Jeon,” you insist, your eyes blurring a little with his honesty. “I still made the decision to stay every time. Even when it was hard. I… I wanted to show my gratitude to your family for what you’ve done for us. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to pay you back.”

“None of that,” he shakes his head. “It wasn’t just about absolving myself of the guilt for what your mom had to go through because of me, which was bad enough in the first place. But I… I knew it was the only way I could thank her, that I could apologize. If there was a way I could help both of you rebuild your lives, I would.”

“And you did,” you assure him. “We were safe. We made good memories in Busan. We now have a good home back in Daegu. I got to study and build myself and experience all these things. And I… I got to meet your son. And I got to see his heart. And I’ll always keep that with me, regardless of how things turned out.”

“Does this mean that you and him aren’t… uh—”

“It was unprofessional to cross the line, Mr. Jeon,” you bow your head. “I’m so sorry that happened.”

“I’m not angry. I guess I should’ve expected it. I’d accept my wife calling me a matchmaker if only it was true,” he laughs dryly. “Jungkook cares about you. And I know that you care about him. You’ve resigned now. You’re… you’re free.”

“I didn’t decide to leave so I could be with him, sir. I mean, that wasn’t the primary intention,” you try to explain. “I… I always knew I would, but doing this soon is because I’m unsure how to continue with my role given what happened. I hope I’ve clarified that.”

“Is this it, then? Is this goodbye for you and him?”

“I… I still hope I’ll see him one day, perhaps when we’ve forgiven each other, when we’ve come to understand the decisions that we made, and once we’ve come to terms with them,” you say. “I’m unsure when that would be. But I hope I’ll have the chance to congratulate him and to tell him I’m happy for him.”

“Goodbyes aren’t always for good,” Mr. Jeon says. “I’d like to believe that we cross paths with people for a reason, that we lose them for a reason, and that we find them again for a reason.”

“That’s not such a bad thought,” you smile. “I suppose that every person I lost for good was for a reason. If I find my way back to Jungkook… it should be for a good reason, too.”

“Of course. And I also mean that for us,” he smiles back. “Please don’t become a stranger. You mean a lot to our family, ___. How your mother helped me and how you helped our son will not be forgotten. Thank you.”

“Likewise, sir. You and Mrs. Jeon have helped us so much. Even Mr. Ri. I… I owe a lot to him as well.”

“You should already know he has a soft spot for you. That man treats you like family.”

You smile to yourself, thinking of how Mr. Ri has looked out for you all these years. He sacrificed a lot, too, and that feeling of safety that he gave you and your mother changed everything for you, even if it took everything from him. But he never wavered, as he made sure to visit you regularly when you were growing up. You suppose he had to hold back once you started working for the company and especially for Jungkook, given the secret you both kept, but Mr. Ri has been showing that same care to you now that the truth is out.

“Did… did you know about him and my mom?” You wonder.

“I did,” Mr. Jeon nods. “It was hard not to. Byung-hun was always serious and expressionless but his eyes always softened whenever she was around. She’s why he even smiled. But… decisions had to be made. I’ll always be sorry for what could’ve been.”

“It’s a love that lives on, though,” you say. “He’s been such a big help to me these past few days.”

“That’s good. You can always count on him. He’ll do anything for you, you should know that. It’s how he keeps their memories alive.”

It’s a nice thought, as you let the older man’s words settle. Love may not always be returned but the beauty is in how it’s expressed, in that it’s received regardless, and that it’s remembered.

You didn’t expect for the talk with CEO Jeon to be as emotional and uplifting as it was. You suppose that all these years, you both were just trying to make it up to each other, to compensate for something that was given and for something that was taken away. Maybe he needed this closure, too, for him to know that you’ve always forgiven him, and that after everything, you’re grateful for what his family has done for you.

Letting out a sigh of relief that at least he’s not angry at you, you return to your tasks. You organize some documents then enter Jungkook’s room to request his signature, immediately spotting some of those he’d already signed from yesterday.

You avoid his eyes again, and you only hope he doesn’t see the sadness in yours when you hear the conversation he’s currently having.

“Is the apartment okay?” He says on the phone.

It’s Lucas, you assume. He’s scheduled to arrive today and is probably settling down first.

“Yeah, just take your time. But don’t forget to be at my penthouse tomorrow,” Jungkook continues. “Ms. Cho will be there to brief you. I’ll see you at 7:00.”

He puts the phone down and retrieves the folder with all the files you set on his desk while you review the ones he just signed. Moments like this used to be spent on friendly banter or some questions on his end, but there’s none of that now. There’s just the sound of the pen gliding on the sheet and the flipping of pages filling the tense-filled air in the room. He hands you back the folder and you’re forced to look at him to say your thanks.

“Please be at my apartment tomorrow at 7. Mr. Ri can take you there, I’m sure he’ll insist,” Jungkook says.

“Yes. Mr. Jeon,” you reply, your eyes focused on his desk.

“And prepare the conference room for the postponed team meeting. We start in 15 minutes.”

You confirm his instructions and quickly head out. You gather everyone - and receive another hug from Do-hyun that you hadn’t realized you’ve been needing so much - then proceed to the room as instructed.

Emotions are managed this time, with no more tearful goodbyes and sentimental speeches unlike the day before. Jungkook gets straight to the point by laying out the plans for Lucas’ onboarding and the division of tasks for the Arts Center opening. You’re primarily assigned to handle the former, as you’ll be turning over all of your responsibilities to him, including all documents, schedules, and contacts. Your facilitative role for the major project is divided between the rest of the team, and as you add the growing list of deliverables and other things you’re in charge of, you’re reminded just how hard you’ve been working for this, too.

CEO Jeon was right. You’re not just walking away from your job; you’re walking away from something that you’ve started to believe in and be passionate about yourself. In a way, Jungkook gave that to you, and you’ll always be grateful that he let you be a part of it.

The melancholic feeling stays with you for the rest of the day. You find yourself lingering on people and things and moments, as if capturing them so you can keep them in your memory.

You do that, too, during lunchtime with the team as you laugh at the stories and incidents you recall that only all of you know. You do it while replying to the dozens of messages you receive after the announcement, with some of the other assistants calling you and expressing their sadness. You do it as well when you email Jungkook another memo he has asked you to draft. And then again when you peek through the window while he’s busy working on perhaps some other design, the image of him focused being etched in your mind until you sleep that night.

You have to let go, you tell yourself; that was the point of resigning. You’re free, like what CEO Jeon said. While you never likened being in this company to a prison, there’s something liberating about stepping back from what you’ve known for years and realizing that you enjoyed it, too, that it gave you a certain kind of happiness and satisfaction, and a special feeling that only you could have.

Jungkook was someone who gave you all that as well, even if it was all fleeting. But then again, you don’t think anything really is. The things and people and emotions and moments you encounter all stay with you in one way or another. For that instance, you had them and they had you. Perhaps that’s the beauty of it - they may not stay but they will always linger.

You enter the car the next morning with the scent of freshly baked pastry. Your eyes light up when you see the iced coffee, prompting Mr. Ri to let out a soft laugh and say that he picked them up on the way for you.

“Jungkook’s got a packed day so I doubt he’d have time for breakfast and I assumed that meant you, too,” he adds.

“Not really,” you sigh. “He’s keeping me to just turnover duties for my last weeks here. I doubt I’d be that busy. But breakfast is good. I woke up late so I managed to only grab some fruits.”

“I think he just doesn’t want you to be stressed. Saying goodbye is hard enough.”

“I suppose… I guess I just hoped things would slow down a bit. But then again, I’m the one who abruptly resigned,” you say. “No one was afforded time to process things, including me.”

“It will sink in soon enough,” he hums. “Especially once you see how things change.”

“They have,” you whisper, the sullenness in your eyes letting the other man know just how much. “And I have no right to wish they didn’t, at least not this fast.”

“Oh, ___,” Mr. Ri turns to you with a sad smile. You can’t imagine him being the cold and stoic man that CEO Jeon had described, one who only softened when your mother was around. “You do. Standing by our decisions means that we accept whatever the consequences are, not that we can’t wish they were different. I’m pretty sure Jungkook feels that way, too. He’s dealing with you leaving, but it doesn’t mean he wishes you had to. And maybe… deep in your heart, you wished that not staying in the company didn’t have to mean not being with him.”

It’s a thought you’ve had for a long time, but one you don’t want to acknowledge. There’s a lot of things you’re still scared to face, including just how much you want him. You’re afraid to break, to want to take it all back, and to realize just how much you’re losing by letting all this go.

And like the family he’s come to be, Mr. Ri reminds you that this pain you’re feeling is part of the process of finding the happiness you’ve been yearning for.

“Sometimes we have to lose things for something so much better,” he comforts. “‘Better’ could be a person or a state of mind. In your case, I think it’s discovering that kind of strength you didn’t know you had; it’s that freedom that you wouldn’t have otherwise felt even if you got together with Jungkook. For as long as you’re in the company, you’ll always feel burdened and that something’s missing at the same time. You always needed this. And I should’ve encouraged you to be braver a long time ago.”

“Then I wouldn’t have met him,” you say immediately, the thought breaking you, even if you tried to convince yourself it was better that you didn’t. “He and I have pasts that intertwine and if we never met then there… there would be nothing of him I’d carry, there’d be no trace of him in me.”

But you did meet. And now there’s Jungkook in you - in your bravery, in your strength, in your silence. He’s in your appreciation for art and design and love for disposable cameras and capturing good memories. You carry him with you, and the thought makes things hurt a little less. Maybe all that is why you got the courage to walk away in the first place. Maybe those could push you to find him again, too.

You’re deep in your head that you don’t realize you’re already at Jungkook’s building until Mr. Ri is calling your name. You exit, and right at the entrance, you see a well-dressed man with a bright yellow helmet on one hand and a scooter on the other, his smile brightening his whole face as he greets you. He’s Lucas, he says, and you’d almost forgotten the purpose of why you’re back here after almost a week.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. Cho. Although I wish it were for happier reasons,” he says, his face softening.

“It’s happy enough,” you smile. “You’re living abroad like you said you wanted to, and this is career advancement for you. They’re all good things.”

“I suppose so. Although I didn’t really get to prepare myself much. I’m quite nervous, if I’m being honest.”

You pass over your access cards to him and let him go through the building’s security process. It’s another way you’re letting go of Jungkook, you think, and there’s more of that melancholic feeling, as memories of all your mornings here fly through your mind.

“You’ve been with Mr. Jeon longer than I have, Lucas. You know how he works,” you tell him. “Sure, there are added responsibilities as the Vice President’s EA but you’ll learn them through experience. You have the skills good enough to be his assistant in the first place. And he’s… he’s good at what he does. He’s good to people. Those should make things easier for you.”

“Hmm that’s true,” he replies, as you both head towards the elevator. “He seems a lot calmer than I’m used to. And more poised. And— I don’t know if I can say this but, more considerate, I suppose. He made sure everything was organized for my move. He checked on me when I arrived. He even got me a scooter because my old one was a bit rusty already.”

You smile to yourself. They’re simple things, and it makes you think that maybe Jungkook used to not show much care to his staff. Lucas doesn’t seem to hold resentment of any kind, so you suppose Jungkook just gave or did the bare minimum. If your relationship with him somehow influenced this kinder and perhaps softer version of him, then meeting you wasn’t so bad for him either.

Lucas rambles a little as he talks about being anxious working with all the bosses, and you wish there was a way that you could ease his worries. You understand it. You were in his shoes once, and you hope that your mentorship of him during this turnover period will be enough.

“All that to say that I have large shoes to fill,” he adds. “And I just don’t want to disappoint him.”

“And you won’t,” you assure the younger man as you reach Jungkook’s floor. “You’re gonna be fine and the team is gonna support you. So will he, so you just do what you can and things will fall into place.”

Lucas sighs in relief and smiles. It’s the most you can do for now and you hope at least for today, it’s enough.

You enter Jungkook’s apartment and a feeling of sadness rushes through you. Everything looks the same and it’s much too quiet than you’re used to.

You tell Lucas what you normally do and he says that Jungkook’s doing away with breakfast.

“He knows I fast so we never really had meals in the morning,” Lucas says. “But it’s nice you got to prepare them for him. He was always too busy and didn’t realize he hadn't had anything to eat until past lunch time.”

You nod, realizing that you probably created that routine you both had. Jungkook used to just always go straight to business but at least with you, he was able to slow down a little and enjoy a meal. You’d come to like those moments, you smile to yourself. He felt a little more human to you then.

You go through Jungkook’s usual schedule and give Lucas a list of numbers to call, like his house cleaner and cook. There are other routines you share, and the young man starts to take note, as some of them are new due to Jungkook’s role.

It’s not long after when the man himself shows up, walking into the kitchen donned in a dark blue suit. You reflexively take a step forward, ready to fix his crooked tie, but then you realize that this is one routine you’ve stopped doing for a while, so you put your hand down and bow to him in greeting.

Jungkook just nods at you and then asks Lucas how the move was and if everything’s okay. The young man answers accordingly, with just enough information to not prolong the conversation.

“It’s gonna be a hectic couple of weeks so it’s good you’ve settled in,” Jungkook says. “Have you gone through the building’s security process? Do you have access to my apartment now?”

“Yes, sir. Ms. Cho has briefed me about all of that,” Lucas says.

“Good,” Jungkook nods. “I’ll just grab my things and we can go. We’ll run through yesterday’s meeting and my schedule for the remainder of the week in the car.”

He walks towards his study to get his bag while you and Lucas stay behind.

“Aren’t you gonna fix his tie?” You whisper to the man next to you.

“Why, what’s wrong with it?” Lucas asks, turning to Jungkook and looks intently at his outfit.

“The knot is slightly to the right,” you point out.

Lucas takes a few seconds to answer before he nods in agreement. “I don’t really fix it but I could tell him.”

You’re all in the elevator and with Lucas looking a bit antsy, Jungkook asks him what’s wrong.

“Your… your tie is slightly to the right, sir,” Lucas says.

It prompts Jungkook to face the mirror, adjusting it himself numerous times until he figures it out. Turning around, with his eyes flitting to you, he asks, “is this alright?”

You nod, feeling the distance once again.

Jungkook used to look at you in a way that always seemed to be more during this shared moment, with words and feelings unsaid, and you realize that so did you. It’s such a simple thing - fixing his suit, but it’s seconds where it’s all quiet and it’s just your breaths sharing space, your glances meeting, maybe your hearts beating a little too fast, a little too loud.

But there’s none of that now. There’s just distance and it’ll get farther as time passes by, especially once all three of you make it to the car and you know, next to him is no longer the place you should be. You take the passenger seat, feeling unfamiliar when you hear his voice right behind you.

Jungkook goes on about Lucas’ new role to include preparing his clothes for the week, which means styling him accordingly. It’s a task the younger man says makes him nervous, but Jungkook assures him.

“Just make sure the clothes match and that I don’t look ridiculous. And that, uh, my tie isn’t crooked.”

Lucas chuckles and says he’s up for the challenge before the conversation switches to the meetings today and tomorrow. Jungkook asks you questions and you fill in some other details. You’re not as on top of his schedule as you used to be, and he instructs that for the meetings after the turnover to Lucas, you’ll no longer be required to attend. You have leaves to take, Jungkook reminds you, and given that you’re set to start work elsewhere soon, having some time off would be good.

“All noted, sir,” you say, and despite how you feel, you also agree.

You arrive at the office and Lucas is promptly introduced to the team. He’s received well, as he’s able to match the young ones’ energy and you see the respect he has for the rest, including you. You already know he’s going to do well, and you make a mental note to tell Bitna and Mrs. Myung to look after him as well, the same thing you told Mr. Ri to do.

While Lucas fixes his documents with HR, you decide to bring Jungkook a cup of coffee and some biscuits, unsure if he’s had any breakfast yet. He promptly looks up from his desk when you enter, nodding in acknowledgement when you place them on his desk.

“Lucas is a fast learner and he’s good with people,” Jungkook says, surprising you, as you hadn’t expected him to start a conversation. “He just needs to work on being a leader and holding the team together. You’re… you’re very good at that. I know it’s a short time but I hope it’s something you could teach him.”

It takes a while for you to respond. Even if his tone is not the soft one you’ve gotten used to, his words still hold warmth in them - towards Lucas. And towards you.

“I… I will, sir. And if it means anything, I think he’ll do well. He’s got good people looking out for him, including you.”

You want to return his kind words, but you also want to remind him that despite how you both started, he stood by your side and guided you. And that helped you be even more confident and capable in what you do. You hope it’s something you’re able to tell him, in a more truthful and vulnerable way he deserves, but there’s no place for that now. Yet the way he nods tells you that maybe he knows, and as you hold his gaze for a little longer than usual, you hope you’re also able to say a bit more.

That you miss your mornings together. That days don’t feel the same without his soft laughter. That you’ve almost forgotten how his smile looks like. That there’s so much of him you want to keep even though you shouldn’t. That you hope he wishes, just like you, that you’d find your way back to him someday even if right now, you have to do this.

The knock on the door signals that your shared moment has passed and you’re unsure if any of that reached him. Maybe not, as he turns away and just nods.

Lucas enters, and you remind him of that building tour you said you’d give. He’s been to the office three times but only in the conference hall, so you decide to take him around before that meeting with the design department in an hour. Do-hyun will cover for both of you while you’re away, so Jungkook tells you to advise her that he won’t be taking any calls or visitors in the meantime.

You nod, and Jungkook watches you walk out the door as he keeps himself steady like always, holding himself back from wanting you to stay a little longer, from asking how you’re doing, from taking you in his arms like he’s been wanting to do for days.

It’s hard having to act like it doesn’t affect him, like it doesn’t break his heart seeing the sadness in your eyes with how he’s taking your departure. While that overheard conversation told him that you planned on leaving, he wasn’t ready for you to do it so soon. Perhaps he should’ve expected it - you both kissed and he went ahead and said the words he’d never said before, and that’s what caused you to push him away and decide that you didn’t want anything to do with him despite how you feel.

He doesn’t know if you ever planned on telling him the truth about who you are. He doesn’t know what your plans have always been and what they are now. He doesn’t know what you’re feeling and how you’re dealing with all these goodbyes. He supposes if he’d asked first, maybe things would have turned out differently, and you wouldn’t be leaving this way. Maybe he wouldn’t be hating himself for detaching so quickly and so certainly, as if he isn’t missing everything about you, as if he isn’t wishing that he could just hold you in his arms and have you stay there.

It took everything in him not to fall apart when he saw your resignation letter. You’d been so certain and after what he learned, he didn’t want to hold you back anymore. He hoped you’d at least want to talk about what you felt, or perhaps assure him that leaving the company doesn’t mean leaving him for good. He kissed you and you kissed him back. And he can’t wrap his head around how you could do that and then so easily decide that being with him isn’t what you want.

It’s all too much, and the only thing he knows he could do for you is make the departure less difficult by making sure that you have nothing to worry about what you’re leaving behind. He made the executive decision to get Lucas, and it wasn’t hard getting his father’s approval this time around. Jungkook organized the whole move and all other turnover matters so that you wouldn’t be bothered by them. He recommended that you take your remaining leaves so you’d get some rest before you move on to your next job, wherever that is. He didn’t want you to be burdened by the extra tasks you have to do for him, including going to his apartment every morning.

But disengaging with you, distancing himself… those are for his benefit. And for you, too, as he doesn’t want to linger and then be foolish by asking you to reconsider, or telling you that he still wants you, that he meant everything he said about what he feels, and that he wishes you’d assure him of your sincerity and tell him you want him just as much. Acting unaffected is the only way that he can maintain that sense of control, the one he lost when he decided to be honest with you and give in to his desires.

He knows it’s not ideal but he doesn’t know how else to give you the freedom you deserve while wanting you next to him. A part of him holds onto the hope that you want that, too - to unburden yourself while being with him. He’d seen the sadness in your eyes these past days and he wants to think it’s because of the distance he’s creating, or because you miss him, too. He’s noticed your glances and lingering looks, he’d seen you stop yourself from fixing his tie this morning, and there’s a softness in your voice that’s different from how it usually is.

But much as he has a lot to say, he also doesn’t know how to. He’s afraid that if he tries, you’ll push him away again, maybe further this time that he won’t know how to get you back. He’s afraid that you’ll look at him differently, that you’d think he doesn’t care about what you want, or that you’ll realize that it’s just not going to work. He doesn’t like what’s happening but he doesn’t think he’s ready for what would happen if he does anything else.

So he stays where he is, close enough to see you, but not enough to feel your presence. Every second that he’s without you, he feels himself slipping away. He wants to give in but he knows he can’t, so he decides to do the only thing he knows - pull back, distance himself, disengage.

He tells himself to just focus on the tasks at hand, that there are a lot more things that require his full attention, and it helps somehow. He presides over the meetings with the design team and then with marketing with few distractions. He sees you from his periphery taking minutes just as Lucas does, but Jungkook doesn’t comment on it. He just goes from one meeting to the next, one call to another one, and one email to a dozen more.

The day is almost over before he knows it, as the knock on the door pulls him away from the budget report he’s reviewing. It’s a little disorienting seeing Lucas once it opens. That used to be you - asking if there’s anything else he needs before you head home. And Jungkook would often take a while to answer just to keep you a little longer before letting you go, even if he’s assured that he’ll see you again in the morning - in his kitchen preparing him a meal, the start of a routine that’s become the best part of his day.

But it’s not you standing by his doorway now. And it won’t be you who’ll be in his penthouse in the morning. You won’t be asking if he got to rest well. You won’t be standing close to him as you fix his outfit, your eyes focused on the creases of his top while his eyes are focused on you. You won’t surprise him with fried rice or fancy-looking eggs on toast while you sneak glances at him to see if he enjoyed it, which he always does. You won’t be there to tease or bicker with him, and he won’t see your warm smile whenever he laughs or teases back.

He doesn’t know how he survived the week without all of that. He knows he’ll have to learn how to get through everyday with that big, empty space you’re leaving. And he’s terrified that he’ll get used to it; the last thing he wants is to forget how it felt when you were still around.

“Mr. Jeon?” Lucas calls out again, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts. “I’m heading home. What time did you want me to be at your penthouse tomorrow morning?”

It’s silly but Jungkook feels protective of his mornings with you. If he’ll no longer have it, then he’ll just live in the memory by himself. So he tells Lucas to be at his place at 7:30 AM, right before they leave.

“Understood, sir. I’ll see you then.”

Jungkook bids him goodbye and returns to his task, but he’s too distracted by the silence so he decides to go home. He enters the car, feeling the tiredness weigh his body down - not only does he stay up to work, he also wakes up early to do his workout. It’s only been a week but it’s catching up to him, and the deep sigh he releases catches Mr. Ri’s attention.

“You should get proper rest,” the older man advises. “You’re gonna get sick at the rate you’re going.”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook huffs. “I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

“I should ask ___ to tell you to slow down. She knows how to make you listen, doesn’t she?”

“That’s not necessary,” Jungkook sighs, even if he knows it’s the truth.

You had a calming way of telling him to take a pause, and he always listened because it’s you.

“Then you better listen to me,” Mr. Ri says, eyeing him from the rearview mirror. “You need to be at your best these next few weeks and you won’t be if you push yourself too hard. You have a team that has your back. It’s all going to work out.”

“That’s exactly what she would say,” Jungkook shakes his head, suddenly hearing your voice in his head.

“I know. And I bet you that she’d say it even more if she sees how you are now. You need to rest, Jungkook. I mean it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says in submission, deciding that he’ll just buy food on the way home and then call it a night. But the mention of your name has his mind going to you again. “Did… did she eat breakfast?” Jungkook asks.

“She did, and she liked it,” Mr. Ri responds. “You know, she still would’ve eaten it even if I said that you asked me to get those pastries for her. It wouldn’t have made a difference.”

“It would have. She’ll know it was from me.”

“And? Just because she’s leaving, it doesn’t mean you have to stop showing her that you care. And it doesn’t mean that she stopped caring, either.”

At Jungkook’s silence, the older man continues.

“Why do you do that? Why hide behind your pain? Why make excuses for what you feel about her? You think it’s easier that way?” he presses. “You think it helps you and her when you act like it doesn’t affect you?”

“She pushed me away, okay? What do you expect me to feel?”

“But she still cares about you, at least acknowledge that.”

“But I want her to want me,” Jungkook raises his voice, surprising himself with the burst of emotion he didn’t expect. “I don’t just want her to care. I… I want her to be with me. But she has a life to live beyond all this, and I don’t think she wants me to be a part of that.”

Mr. Ri turns to Jungkook with sad eyes, unable to say anything else. He doesn’t know what kind of comfort the younger man needs. It starts and ends with you, it seems, and perhaps that’s expected. After Jungkook’s breakup with Chaerin, he kept his heart guarded and didn’t bother to let anyone have a peek. All encounters were shallow, all attempts at getting him to share himself were futile. Until you. And now that he’s shared a little bit of himself, with you turning away from it, he feels exposed and bare, and he has to build his walls back up again.

Mr. Ri gets to witness it this time, and his heart breaks for the younger man, too. Having heard both sides, he knows that Jungkook respects your decision and wants to be with you. Those can coexist. He also knows that you want to be free from the ties that bind you to this family and want to be with him. Those can coexist as well. But he knows, more than anyone, that you’ll both have to make a decision, and you’ll both have to learn to do that.

“I can’t tell you what to do, Jungkook. And I can’t tell her, either,” the older man sighs. “You’ll have to figure things out on your own and decide what you want to do because that’s the only way you’ll get to stand by your choices.”

It’s a piece of advice that Jungkook should follow, even if all he wants is for someone to tell him what to do. But perhaps that’s also hard if he can’t make sense of everything that he feels. And it’s both of you suffering at the end of it.

He stays quiet for the rest of the ride, wanting to just shut out his thoughts even if there are hundreds of them swimming in his mind. When Mr. Ri asks him where he wants to grab his dinner, Jungkook can’t decide and ends up going to a convenience store instead. He sighs to himself as he realizes the memories that’ll come up by being here; he wants to escape thoughts of you, but he still ends up thinking about you whatever he does, as if his mind and body gravitate towards you without realizing it.

He buys instant noodles and some snacks. He munches on choco pie during the ride back to his penthouse and remembers the way you smiled when you ate it that night when he stayed with you. It’s an image he keeps until he falls asleep, and there’s that empty feeling again when he wakes up in the morning.

Lucas arrives that Friday as instructed and they leave for the office right away. They talk about the Arts Center and the schedule for the day, and they arrive at the building at the same time that you do.

It’s a little tense sharing the elevator with you this time, especially as he formally greets you as if he wasn’t torturing himself with the thought of you all night. But you smile and act cordial, choosing to let the silence engulf all three of you and just deal with it.

There are virtual meetings he has to attend, and Jungkook multitasks while reviewing some reports that are on his desk. There are some things he knows he needs to sign, so he calls your phone and asks them where they are.

You walk inside his room with a folder of documents and promotional materials for his approval, setting them on his desk and explaining that Lucas was going to bring them in after he was done speaking with HR.

You watch as Jungkook, with scrunched eyebrows, goes through each sheet of paper. There’s so much tension on his face and his entire body, and you wonder if he’s been resting properly. Perhaps not, as you see the dark circles under his eyes.

“You don’t have to wait for Lucas to give these to me,” Jungkook says. “You still have that responsibility. You’re still my assistant.”

There’s no anger in his voice but you can’t help but feel defensive. He’s instructed you to focus on turning over files and functions, after all.

“Am I?” You find the courage to question him. “You’ve made yourself perfectly clear on what I’m only here for.”

Jungkook is taken aback by your words, not expecting you to say them with a mix of sadness and bitterness. But he answers back, unable to control himself this time.

“And you’ve made yourself perfectly clear on what you want. And what you don’t want,” he says, more bitterly than he intended.

Your face falls, and he hates himself for making you feel like this, so he backtracks.

“I’m just… trying to make things easier for you,” he reasons, glancing at you before returning his gaze to the papers. “There are lots of things to turn over and I prefer that you just focus on them. I need Lucas to know what to do because you always did, and that’s a big loss for the team. It’s not my intention to undermine you or… make you feel like I’m replacing you. I know I won’t be able to,” he says boldly. “You’re leaving and I’m just trying to deal with it the best way I know how.”

You look at him and see the mix of frustration and sadness on his face. This is all on you, and you hate that you don’t know what to do about it. So you accept his words in submission.

“I understand, sir,” you say, almost like a whisper. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

You bow then head out, leaving Jungkook rooted in his seat like always, knowing that a second more and he would’ve called you back, even if he doesn’t know what he’d say, just so he could be around you a few seconds longer.

But he lets you go. Whatever he wants to say won’t make it out anyway.

Jungkook gets through the rest of the day constantly distracted, always half-hoping it’s you when there’s a knock on the door, or glancing at your direction from his seat, expecting you’d be meeting his eyes. But it’s never you on the other side and you don’t look his way, and before he knows it, Lucas is saying goodbye and then Hoseok is calling to tell him to go home already.

Jungkook tries, though. He finishes half a bottle of whiskey and then sleeps through mid-morning. He doesn’t really know what to do with the time he has and he hates that he has so much of it.

For the first time, he forces himself not to think about the Arts Center, so he decides to sketch some designs for the various residential projects he has in the pipeline. Some are still in their early stages but that Scandinavian-inspired building that he’s been visiting various properties for is still being conceptualized. He doesn’t want to rush, believing that the right design will come, and he hopes that by going through the photos from his trip with Hoseok and A-yeong to Europe last year, he’ll have that extra nudge or perhaps, a burst of inspiration.

The buildings are intricate and majestic, but it’s the little cafes that catch his attention, the fountains in the gardens, and the faraway shots he took of Hoseok and A-yeong as they laughed and danced about. There’s something captivating about the everyday moments, and when he clicks on the photo of the sky, he’s reminded that all those times, he was thinking of you - that clarity, the stability, the comfort. Jungkook always has a lot of things going on in his head but you’ve become that person who makes him stop and look around, who makes him see the beauty in things, who makes him want them for himself this time.

There are some images that float through his mind for the project - large windows, spacious courtyards, open living spaces, muted palettes, tree-lined streets - but with all the comfort and beauty that those bring, his thoughts still shift to you. He remembers how you looked against the mountains during the team building, how the sun made you glow even more, how you looked at peace by the stream, and all he can think about is the sadness that comes with knowing they’re all just memories - still images in his mind that haunt him of what could’ve been.

Jungkook decides to switch strategies an hour later, the emptiness of his penthouse adding to the emptiness he feels inside. Thinking that a change of scenery is what he needs, he puts on his tracks and hoodie and heads out for a run. There’s no destination in mind. He’ll just jog around town, stop if he feels like it, and then head on out again until the thought of you fades from his mind.

He knows he’s not fooling anyone; he’ll probably still be thinking about you. But at least for those hours where he’s distracted by the sounds of the cars and the people in the streets, there’s less of you in there.

It’s quite sunny out. It’s mid-afternoon and he likes the feel of the sweat in his body, the heat contrasting the occasional burst of wind. He stops by a garden, then a convenience store for a drink, then runs up a trail to get a view of the city. The sun starts to set and Jungkook takes it slow. With his hands in his pockets, he leisurely walks to a nearby neighborhood that he hasn’t been to before.

He appreciates the calmness this time and thinks that maybe spending his weekends like this every once in a while isn’t so bad. But he thinks of other ways he could spend it and with whom. Finding new restaurants to eat at and places to explore with you flash through his mind. So does watching your variety shows with you on the couch or some local film like what you enjoy doing on your own.

Jungkook doesn’t fight against it this time. He realizes that the more he resists it, the angrier he’ll be, and he doesn’t want to feel that anymore. He wasn’t mad at you, he was mad at the situation. He was mad at himself for waiting too long, for not handling things properly, for not talking to you about it… for not being honest about what he really wanted early on. He’s trying not to be selfish by letting you walk away, but maybe that’s selfish, too, if all he’s focused on is how he deals with it, without considering how it’s also affecting you.

He sighs to himself. He’s feeling so much, and this hasn’t happened in a long time. He wasn’t good at this then, and it seems that he hasn’t learned; he doesn’t know how to express what he feels even now.

The sound of children’s laughter catches his attention, and Jungkook turns to his left and finds himself outside of the neighborhood park. The playground is hidden behind large trees, and as if by some serendipitous occurrence, he walks inside and finds a bench to sit on. It’s where he stays as he watches the last remaining child leave the swing and head home.

Silence envelopes him now. He remembers his childhood - how he disliked playing in the nearby playground because he was always teased for being the shy and quiet kid, how his brother laughed along, and how his father constructed one for him so he could enjoy it for once. His brother never joined him, choosing to stay in the treehouse built for him on the other side of their property, and Jungkook liked it that way.

He would climb up the small rock wall and then slide down the slide. He’d swing himself as high as he could, giggling loudly because of the ticklish feeling in his stomach and no one would hear him. He’d look through the telescope and gaze at the stars in the evening. On some afternoons, he’d sit on the little bench and just draw cars and buildings and houses on his sketch pad, just like he’d seen his father do. Out there, he felt like he could be anyone. He could do anything and feel anything and not be afraid. No one was going to hurt him. Nothing would make him feel unwanted - not the birds, not the butterflies, not the bees that he’d watch from afar.

His old man may have always been busy but he built that playground for him without Jungkook asking him to. They were words that his father couldn’t say, apologies that he couldn’t voice out, a desire for more time that he couldn’t express or maybe even commit to, which is why they remained unspoken.

After the incident at the cabin when Jungkook felt abandoned, he stopped playing. He stopped going outside, afraid of the open air, of the possibility that the rain would come, of his father joining him in a space that used to be one where no one could disappoint him.

Time passed and the apologies were still unspoken. The emotions were kept hidden, the desire left unsaid. But they remained. Jungkook knew because his father kept that playground in its spot despite the renovations done in the estate over the years. He maintained them, too, making sure that he seals them regularly, that he repairs damages, that he paints them once the color has started to fade.

Jungkook knew this because every time he visited their home, he always spent some time there. And he saw that the playground always looked the way it did when he first saw it over 20 years ago. He was there last week, and he remembers that in the midst of his outburst, being there calmed him down.

Despite all the painful memories in between, and even if he’d outgrown it already, the safety was still there. It held memories, it felt like freedom, it held that child-like belief that he could do and be anything and he could be happy.

And as Jungkook watches the sky turn dark, the calmness overtakes him. Any playground elicits that kind of feeling, and he hears the apologies, he feels the emotions, he understands the desire.

He realizes that he’s very much like his father, just as you and Mr. Ri and Hoseok have told him. Because much as the old man is good at many things, expressing how he feels is one thing he struggles with. That’s why he builds things. He builds homes for his wife and a treehouse and playground for his sons.

And like some epiphany, Jungkook realizes that he may not be able to express what he feels, but he may be able to show you. The words may never be enough, even as they remain unsaid, but he can at least give you a space that matters to you, a place just like his playground that you could go to to feel safe, where you could be anyone, where you could do anything and feel anything and not be afraid.

It will be a place where no one can hurt you, not even him, and where you’ll always be wanted - by the characters in your picture books, and the birds and butterflies and bees that you’ll color. You may have outgrown them, but he knows that the memories of your childhood will remind you that there’s a place for you, in his heart especially.

His mind starts to race, with designs and details flashing through his mind. He rushes home and starts working, and he doesn’t leave his study until 3 in the morning. But he’s satisfied, and he spends the next day making calls and other arrangements, ensuring that the plans are set for dissemination to the team.

It’s a monumental task for the time that he has. The Arts Center opening isn’t far from now. He’ll probably earn the ire of everyone involved, including his father, but Jungkook will just have to deal with all that.

Right now, what matters is that he gets to do this to show you how he feels. He doesn’t know when you’ll see it, if you’ll decide to go when it opens in a few weeks, but he hopes that when you do, you’ll know that you made him feel something that he hasn’t in a long time, and he hopes that if he no longer gives you that feeling of comfort and safety that he’s been giving, then there’s a place that he built so you’d feel all those again.

You sit on your desk that Monday morning and try to act as if all your contrasting emotions aren’t weighing heavily on you.

Being with your friends over the weekend helped, as you took the train to meet them this time and told them everything that’s happened. You apologized for not telling them right away, but they knew that it was important for you to feel everything on your own first and try to figure it out. You said you really hadn’t - deciding to leave seemed so simple but the feelings and the truth complicated them, and now you’re left with a broken heart and the belief that Jungkook won’t forgive you, that he won’t want you anymore, that he'll just let you walk away without any closure.

Soomin and Jimin just held you and listened. They knew from the start it would be difficult. Your past wasn’t something you talked about so easily, and it took you years to even tell them your story, how you ended up in Busan and why you had to return to Daegu because it was already safe for you to go back home. There was no judgment, only support, even when you decided to enter the company and work for the people that you felt you owed your life to.

Their resentment towards Jungkook stemmed from how he treated you at the beginning; they knew that yours was the same. But they never questioned your sincerity when it came to how you felt - you’re never like this, they said. It takes a lot for you to let someone in and ties to his family isn’t enough for that. If anything, that’s what told them it was real - you would’ve tried hard to control the feelings but you still gave in, and for you to think he was worth that even for the briefest moment means he probably was.

Their perspective affirmed you in a way. This wasn’t just some silly crush on your boss, but this also wasn’t something you could just easily forget or get over. Your happiness always comes first, and it may look like a life with him in it, but it doesn’t mean he gets to be part of it right now. It’s also possible it’s one without him, and if it is, then you’re just going to have to learn to accept that.

You sigh to yourself. You’re in no better place than you were last week, but at least you have less days left in being here. But then again, that also just means the closer you are to really saying goodbye.

You go through your checklist of things to turn over and do before you leave, and while you’re halfway through, putting together event and project portfolios and documenting best practices still takes a lot of time.

You’re about to begin your first task of the day when you hear rushed footsteps. Lucas scurries over to your side to leave his things then grabs some folders.

“Hey, is everything okay?” You ask the visibly stressed man next to you.

“Uh, yeah,” he responds. “Mr. Jeon called for a meeting about the Arts Center and there are changes. He wants to add something.”

“At this stage?” You ask worriedly.

“Yeah. It seems like it’s quite a bit of work. I’m… I’m freaking out because this is a really big project and —I”

“Won’t disappoint him, I’m sure of it,” you try to comfort him. “You’ll be fine, Lucas. Just take a breath and take it one step at a time. I’ll be right here.”

You smile at him warmly, hoping that the bit of encouragement would help. The opening is a few weeks from now. At this point, focus should just be on finishing touches, finalizing government certifications, and promotion, but with how Lucas seems a bit rattled, the changes might indeed be a bit overwhelming.

He excuses himself to prepare the conference room and get the team then leaves, and as you’re about to follow him, Jungkook exits his office then stands by the hallway.

“Ms. Cho,” he calls out, prompting you to stay in your place. “There is no need for you to attend the meetings about the Arts Center.”

You’re taken aback by his statement but you recover.

“But… it’s opening in a few weeks, sir. There’s lots to do, and Lucas just said there are changes,” you counter. “If there’s anything I can do to help, you know I would.”

“I know that,” he says. “And I’m saying that there’s no need this time. The team can manage. You’ve taught them well.”

“But—”

“You’ve tendered your resignation, Ms. Cho,” he reminds you, his tone a little softer than it’s been recently. “Your remaining days here are meant for turnover and mentoring Lucas in his general functions, and not to take on added or continuing responsibilities.”

He may have a point, but it doesn’t take away from your sadness over no longer knowing how the preparations are going. You’ve become invested in the Arts Center this past year, too, and while you knew you had to let that go as well, it doesn’t mean it’s easy.

“Understood, sir,” you concede, bowing your head down in submission. “I’ll continue with my reports, then.”

He just nods, and you don’t miss the tinge of apology in his eyes. He leaves, and you’re left alone again; you think that’s how you’ve been feeling all this time.

You get on with your task, and it’s not long after when Hoseok enters, his bright smile only doing little to raise your spirits.

“Hey, ___,” he greets. “How are you holding up?”

“Just fine,” you try to smile. “Are you looking for Jungkook? He’s not here right now. He’s meeting the team about the Arts Center and if you’re wondering why I’m not there, it’s because he didn’t want me to be. First he replaces me, and then he excludes me and I just feel so… I…”

“Seems like you’re less than fine,” Hoseok says sullenly. “I’m so sorry, ___. I know this has been hard for you. For both of you.”

You know it is. But you suppose that you and Jungkook deal with difficulties differently.

“You… you understand why I had to do this, right?” You ask.

“I do,” he affirms, his eyes softening even further. “And so does Jungkook. And that’s the hard part. He doesn’t want you to go but he knows you have to do this for yourself. I guess… Your decisiveness hurt him. And with what I’m seeing now, I guess his acceptance hurt you, too.”

“I… I’m such a mess. Maybe I deserve all this,” you sigh. “How could I kiss him, push him away, leave him, want him, but can’t bring myself to be with him?”

“Because you’re human and could want things that you’re afraid of? Because it’s possible to want to find yourself while also being next to someone else yet still think it’s not enough?” Hoseok says. “It’s normal to feel all this, ___. But figuring things out also takes time. Don’t be too hard on yourself, okay? Not knowing what to do now is understandable.”

“I… I only have a few weeks left here,” you say softly. “Maybe this is how he wants this all to end.”

“What about you? Is this how you want it to end?”

“I don’t know, but maybe it’s easier,” you try to convince yourself. “It’s easier to walk away when I know I’m not wanted. Maybe that’s what I made him feel, and I can’t blame him if that’s what he wants me to feel in return.”

“Oh, ___,” Hoseok shakes his head, knowing it’s not the truth. “You and Jungkook just need to talk. Then you’d know you want the same things.”

“Maybe… but we’re not good at that. And it doesn’t mean we want the same things at the same time,” you reason.

“So it’s about timing, then?”

“I guess. But we’re not good at that either,” you laugh dryly at the absurdity of it. “Look, even without all this, he already has a lot of things in his mind. The biggest project of his life is about to be unveiled soon and I… I have a life to live after this. I’m doing what I should’ve done years ago and the least I could do for myself is stand by the decision I made. I know I’d regret it if I stayed. I don’t want to regret the way I walked away.”

It’s a thought you’re slowly coming to, as you look back at how the week has been. You’ve been receiving nothing but praise and encouragement from your colleagues. You’ve been getting emails from various companies that want to recruit you after you put your resume through an online job site. There are so many possibilities now that you’ve put one foot out the door, and while you know of the possibilities you’re also leaving behind, you know deep down that you would’ve regretted it if you stayed, and you don’t want to tie that decision to Jungkook and end up resenting him for it.

The only thing that’s been keeping you down is what that decision is doing to you and Jungkook. It’s one you hope you’re able to fix, or at least mend enough that you’ll only have the good memories with you, and that so would he.

“I’m just really sorry,” Hoseok says, knowing that much as he’d like to help you and his cousin sort things out, it’s difficult when neither of you are unable to sort out your own feelings. “But I’m not just here to talk about that. I… I wanted to give you this.”

Hoseok hands you a sealed envelope and you look at him curiously.

“I know Jungkook gave you his recommendation letter, but I thought another one won’t hurt,” he smiles, letting you feel the warmth of it.

You know that companies usually just call for references, but a letter like this - especially from a well-known corporation’s top executive - gives you an advantage that others don’t have. You suppose that when you received one from Jungkook, it was a show of support. You have no doubt that with Hoseok, it’s him telling you that he’ll always have your back, wherever you may be.

“Oh, Hoseok,” you say, feeling all the emotions come at once.

It’s insane to think that almost a year ago, you were in this same spot with him encouraging and assuring you that he’ll always be around. Back then, you were anxious about being led by someone new who you knew was nothing like the man you admired. And now you’re here again, and Hoseok is giving you that same comfort that he always has, and the thought that you won’t even be in the same building as him is causing a crack in your heart. You hope one day, you’ll be able to fully express just how much his kindness has given you hope and so much to look forward to.

“Thank you,” you smile through your glassy eyes. “You… you’ve taught me so much. I hope you know that much of the confidence I have now is because of you. I’m terrified of this new journey but I’m confident that I’ll do well. You believed in me first and I’ll never forget that.”

“Being a good leader is something I learned to become because of you, ___. And because of the team. I admire you for so many things, and I’m pretty sure that wherever you choose to go, the company will be so lucky to have you.”

“I hope so,” you remark, knowing that’s another thing you have to deal with. “I… I have a few options. A few companies have reached out but there’s a publishing house that I’m leaning towards. I met the editor some time ago and that encounter just stuck with me and I feel like that kind of environment would suit me.”

“That’s great to know,” he says excitedly. “I can’t wait to hear about it. A-yeong and I will take you out to dinner once things have settled down, okay?”

“That would be great. I can’t wait for that, too.”

Hoseok bids you goodbye, leaving you alone with your thoughts for the next two hours. Whatever changes are happening with the Arts Center must be big, as it’s taking the team this long to iron things out.

It’s close to lunch time when the meeting ends. Jungkook walks in while on a call, while Lucas sits next to you looking a little stressed.

“Everything alright?” You ask.

“Yeah. There are just last minute changes but Mr. Jeon’s on top of it,” Lucas says. “He just wants us to make sure we’re on top of the other things and I’m honestly still familiarizing myself with the details of the Arts Center. I’m just nervous I’m gonna miss something.”

“Hey, that’s what I’m here for,” you assure him. “I know you were just thrust into this at such a critical time where you don’t have much leeway to adjust and that’s on me and I’m sorry. But that’s also why I’m gonna make sure that I’ll help you as much as I can.”

“Thanks, I need that,” Lucas sighs. “I can’t help but think that a year ago, I was almost supposed to be here. I mean, we can talk about it now. Mr. Jeon said he planned on taking me with him because he doesn’t want a new assistant that he has to get used to, you know? I always knew he hated change and I was the one thing that was familiar but it didn’t work out. Even I knew it wasn’t gonna happen - CEO Jeon approves these appointments and the EA of the VP needs to be familiar with the company culture and process and I wasn’t. I wasn’t really upset but I let myself think of living in Seoul for a short while and it seemed exciting. But things happen for a reason, and I think if I had to adjust then while helping Mr. Jeon with this project, I probably would’ve caved in and quit.”

Lucas turns to you with a smile. “What I mean to say is that, I admire you so much for being able to manage all this. And I know I have incredibly big shoes to fill and I think I’m more terrified about that, but I’m really thankful that you’re there to guide me, ___. Whatever tip and strategy and cheat sheet you can provide will be much appreciated.”

“Of course,” you assure him. “I’ve got spreadsheets and checklists and profiles and guidelines to turn over to you. And I’m always a call away, okay?”

He nods in gratitude, and you tell him that you both have time to sort through all those and that you’ll be finished in time for your last day. You agree on having lunch together so you could talk about the Board members and the other executives, and he says he has to see Jungkook first to get his signatures for some documents.

“Oh, can you, uh, can you give this to him, too?” You ask, passing him your leave request. It was during your time alone when you decided when to take them, knowing that you’re gonna slowly have to get used to being away from this place as well.

Lucas takes it then returns shortly after with your signed form. There’s relief in knowing you get to organize your life somehow. There are interviews to attend and a lot of your things to fix. There are feelings to make sense of, too.

And as you and Lucas talk about his move and the worry and excitement he feels, you think that you’ve got to stop thinking of goodbyes. There’s a life for you out there, and if by some way you find Jungkook in there, too, then at least you’d know you chose him, and that if he’d forgiven you then, then you’re assured that he’s chosen you, too.

You spend the entirety of Tuesday orienting Lucas about your spreadsheets and other files, and you both come up with a system that suits his style of work. Jungkook was out the whole day, and though you suppress the feeling of missing him, it’s one that haunts you until you lay in your bed that night.

You take the rest of the week off. You spend Wednesday cleaning your apartment and then having dinner with the elderly couple next door who amuse you with their love story and memories of their youth.

You meet Namjoon on Thursday for that official interview he’s been waiting for. You can’t help but envision yourself in the office with the dynamism of the teams and the laid-back feel of the entire space. You’d commit yourself right then and there if it didn’t make you look that desperate, but it’s Namjoon who encourages you to go to the other interviews you have lined up.

It’s a risk, he says; he might lose you if another more appealing company states their case. But he wants you to choose them without regrets; he wants you to choose them because you’ve seen what’s out there and decided that they’re who you want and who you see yourself being happy in. You don’t miss his slightly nervous face when you agree, but you suppose that if you’re going to do this now, might as well do it right.

You go to two other interviews that Friday, and while trying out events management was always in the back of your mind, it’s nice to see just how the job and the tasks excite you.

It’s the first time you’re feeling like you actually have options. Back then, even if there were other opportunities, you chose working for the Jeons because of a debt you felt you had to pay. You limited your own choices, but now, you feel what it’s like to take control of your own life, and it’s liberating to not have any baggage with you this time around.

Jimin and Soomin pay you a visit that weekend. They drive you around, thinking that the beauty of spring would inspire you even more. It’s fitting, they say, as you start a new phase in your life while the flowers bloom and greet you. But as you pass by a park and see the colors of the sky and buy some convenience store snacks on the way home, you can’t help but think of Jungkook.

Missing him feels a little odd. You didn’t know what it felt like until his trip at the end of last year, but you always knew he was gonna come back. This time, you’re unsure of when you’ll see him again. You spent time with him in a work environment, so being away from him and doing everyday things shouldn’t even affect you this much. But you suppose it’s the idea of what could have been that you miss, even if you don’t really know what that’s like.

You spend Monday and Tuesday the next week the same way. There’s just one executive meeting each day that you attend to assess how Lucas manages it, but other than that, you barely see Jungkook in the office. He stays in his room all morning then heads out in the afternoon, and you leave before he could even make it back. It reminds you that you truly left him at a critical time. You don’t know if he’s eating well, if he’s getting proper rest, if he’s tending a bruised knuckle or dealing with a headache. You don’t know if the stress is getting to him, if the anxiety is slowly building up, or if it’s just excitement he feels and that he can’t wait for everything to come together.

You hope for his sake, it’s the latter. You want nothing more than to assure him that things will turn out the way he wants, that the intended audience will love the Arts Center, and that he’s already achieved so much with just this. You hope he’s proud of himself the way you are, and that he knows that if there’s anything he leaves you with, it’s your own pride that you got to be part of something beautiful, and it’s that search for connection and intimacy and meaning that got you yearning for those things, too.

You take the rest of the week off again. You run errands one day, go to an interview the next, and then walk around town the day after. It feels like you’re back to that state of being alone but not feeling lonely; there’s just that added sense of freedom this time.

You’re not stressed about work. Time isn’t flying too fast. You don’t feel like you’re rushing, going from one task to another for the sake of it. You have space to think and feel. Even at such a short period of time, you’re learning what things excite you and what you want to explore. And that’s liberating, now that you’re able to pull yourself out of the routine that contained you for years, one that made you believe it was all you had and all you deserved. You think that this isn't so bad, and the constant sadness you feel slowly fades away as the days pass.

But then you return to work on Monday - your final week - and the illusion breaks.

Lucas has to meet with the marketing department, so he asks you to prepare Jungkook’s coffee in the morning. You feel quite sentimental doing it, as you know that there probably won’t be a next time.

You knock on the door, and when he asks you to come in, you suddenly feel anxious. You place the cup on his desk, making sure you put the biscuits like you always do.

Jungkook senses when you step back, lingering like you’ve been doing the few times you’ve done it. You used to do it because you expected he’d have something to ask you whenever you entered his room. But recently, he feels it’s you just waiting - for him to say something, perhaps, or for you to find the courage to speak up.

But you never do. And he never says what he really wants to.

“It’s your last week, Ms. Cho,” he states, focusing on his iPad screen so as not to torture himself with the sight of you. “How’s your clearance going?”

“Uh, it is, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “Finance and HR have cleared me. IT and security will clear me on my last day. And I’ll submit to you my final deliverables on Wednesday. You can sign off my form then.”

He nods, and you torture yourself by standing by even if he doesn’t seem to have anything else to say. You’re about to excuse himself when he speaks again.

“Please free up your Friday evening. We’ll have a team send-off dinner for you.”

“I, uh. Understood, sir. Thank you.”

He nods once more, and it’s your signal to leave. He’s never felt so far away, but you suppose it’s the kind of distance you need.

You walk back to your seat, the reality of your last week hitting you, especially when you find Do-hyun and Yohan by your desk, looking somber as they reach out for a hug. You return it, with Do-hyun pointing it out, and she frowns when you say that you’ll be without it for a long time.

“Is everything alright?” You ask them.

“Yes,” they respond in unison.

“We just want to spend as much time with you as we can,” Yohan states. “I know we’ve all been busy but… it’s your last week. So let’s have lunch today, and any other day when you’re free. Please?”

“Of course,” you say. “Food hall today?”

They nod excitedly, and you spend your lunch time at the outdoor space, laughing about, with Lucas slowly but surely finding his place within the team.

That afternoon, Yoongi drops by and says he has lots of things going on because of the changes Jungkook is making, but he’ll meet you when you want to. He reminds you that he’s there when you need him; he’ll turn down the other man if it comes down to it. But he’ll drop by everyday until your last day, he says; he doesn’t want to feel like he didn't see you enough.

You assure him that he’s the one person you’d definitely meet up with outside of work, and so there’s no limit when it comes to him.

On Tuesday, you have lunch with some people from the marketing department whom you’ve gotten close to these past months, and on Wednesday, Bitna and the other assistants take you out to dinner.

CEO Jeon and Hoseok take you out to lunch on Thursday, stating that they wanted to check in and ask what your plans are. They assure you that they’re there should you need support in any way; the company is likewise always going to have a place for you. And with the sincerity in their eyes and their hope of you finding your place and your happiness, you know they mean well. So you take that time to ask for advice, too.

It ends in laughter, as you recall your early days at the company and the mishaps with Hoseok. You talk about some of the issues you’ve been privy to and some details about your life that they missed. Talking with them feels comfortable now that there’s an acknowledgment of your ties to their family. You can tell that despite of and after everything, CEO Jeon truly cares for you and your mother, and that he’ll be eternally sorry yet grateful to both of you.

You’re thankful that they don’t mention Jungkook. You wouldn’t know how to react if they did, especially since you’ve barely seen him all week. Missing him has become natural that you’ve just accepted it, including the fact that you can’t do anything about it. Maybe you’ll always be too scared to let him know, too.

It’s Friday before you know it. You manage to get everything done on time, and Jungkook calls you to his office that morning to return your signed clearance form. You hate how you’re both back to this tense dynamic whenever you enter his room - lingering looks, clenched jaws, deafening silence… and words you want to say and hear but know you never would. You’re both not built for that, you think; there’s always so much to feel but not enough courage to face them.

This room holds so many memories - when he got mad, when you stood up to him, when he said he needed your help, when he kissed you and you kissed him back… when you pushed him away.

But this isn’t where you say goodbye. There’s still that team dinner tonight and you hope you get to leave him with a proper farewell and a sincere expression of thanks for all that he’s taught you. You want to wish him good luck on the Arts Center opening. You want to tell him that you believe he’ll keep doing great things, you want to remind him to take proper rest, to take his breaks seriously, and to enjoy all that’s ahead of him.

So you settle for a smile, as genuine as you can make it, before heading out and closing the door behind you.

You return to your desk and go over some other things with Lucas that he needs clarifications on. You both spend lunch with the team and then resume your final turnover.

It’s shortly after 3 PM when Jungkook comes out of his room with his bag in hand, and he instructs Lucas to get some blueprints from Chin-sun before they both leave to go to the Arts Center for a visit. The man next to you gets up and tells you he’ll see you at dinner, leaving you and Jungkook alone this time.

It’s that lingering look again and he stays rooted in his spot, his eyes getting more distant as the seconds pass.

“I wish you well, ___,” he says, the use of your name with words that seem like goodbye causing a crack in your heart. “Good luck. And thank you.”

He doesn’t wait for a response as he leaves right after, and you’re left with your heart in your hands, one that keeps calling his name. You think it will continue to do that after all this.

You spend the rest of the afternoon packing your things and entertaining all those who drop by to say goodbye. Yoongi messages to say he’s out on a project site but that he’ll see you soon, and it’s something you look forward to after things have settled down.

You find yourself in a private room at a nice restaurant with the team not long after. You can order anything, you’re told, and Do-hyun and Yohan don’t hesitate on choosing the dishes that they wouldn’t have been able to eat if it wasn’t for their boss paying for this meal.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Lucas and Mr. Jeon?” You ask, looking around and feeling incomplete.

“This dinner is for you, and you’re here,” Do-hyun points out. “But I guess we can wait.”

You settle for some appetizers and get to talking. They’re less sentimental than they were a few weeks ago. They say they’ve made peace with everything and are just happy that you’re able to take a break and have time for yourself before going back to the grind. It’s all talk and laughter, and when Lucas arrives, everybody cheers because then, you can all have your food served.

“Where’s Mr. Jeon?” Do-hyun asks before you do.

“He’s at the Arts Center dealing with the laborers and the design team,” Lucas says regrettably. “Seems like there’s too much work and he can’t make it to dinner. I doubt he even eats at this point. He’s there every afternoon and doesn’t leave until late at night.”

“Is everything alright?” You ask, a mix of worry and sadness at how much he’s pushing himself, and that he didn’t even have the heart to see you one last time.

Perhaps that short exchange earlier was his final goodbye, you think. And now you wouldn’t even be able to say yours.

“Yeah, you know how he is when he focuses on something,” Lucas sighs. “He just locks in and doesn’t care about anything else. He’s always been like that and I guess that hasn’t changed. But he did say he wants us to enjoy tonight, so order anything you want and he’ll take care of it.”

You mask the disappointment by laughing through Do-hyun and Yohan arguing about the best way to attack the menu, but you can’t help the way your eyes flit to the door every time it opens, hoping Jungkook would walk through it. But it’s never him.

Mr. Ri walks in right as the main dishes are served, and you look at him in question. He returns your dejected look with a shake of his head, as if he knows what you're thinking.

You suppose that this is how Jungkook wanted to end things - by not showing up, by leaving the wound uncovered. You didn’t realize it would hurt like this.

Maybe you deserve it. Maybe you don’t. But with the empty seat on the table reminding you of the man who chose to not give you a final goodbye because you’d done yours so certainly, you’re starting to think that it doesn’t really matter. He gets to choose how he deals with this, like he said. And you have no choice but to do the same.

You try your hardest to keep up with the team’s energy. They’re at least no longer crying, although you wish they were so you’d have a reason to cry yourself, because that’s what you’re trying hard not to do. It’s probably because of the sadness at knowing that you won’t experience this with them anymore; you won’t share the laughter and the stories that you used to. Everything is sinking in already, and it’s reality hitting you that you’re really going to start a new journey soon, and that you had to let go of someone incredibly important for that to happen.

The Jungkook-shaped hole in your life will probably get bigger as the days pass, but that’s just another thing missing that you’ll have to find substitutes for, just like you do for everything else.

You manage to get through dinner with dry eyes, even when you’re presented with farewell gifts. Lucas hands you a large box - a present from the VP’s Office, he says, and you smile in awe when you see a coffee pod maker that’s a similar version to the one you have at the pantry.

“You won’t be going around making other people’s coffee anymore,” Manager Lee says. “So this is for your home. You’ll be on-the-go and busy but at least you’ll have this. It’s also so you’ll always remember us.”

“It’s also how I started,” you point out, recalling your internship days at the company. “But this is great. Please uh, please thank Mr. Jeon for me.”

“And this is from us,” Do-hyun smiles, handing you another box. “Like, this is from our own pockets. And we thought of every single thing in there so don’t forget about us. Ever.”

You open it and find a lot of the things that they know you can’t live without - a tumbler, a mug, notebooks, colored pens and highlighters, post-its, little jars of snacks and candies. There are also self-care items like scented candles and essential oils. In a little bag, there are two disposable cameras and vouchers to your local theater.

And underneath all of those is a complete photo of your team, the one taken during your team building not long ago. Everyone looks refreshed and carefree. Including you. And then there’s Jungkook next to you, hands in his pockets and sporting what you know is a genuine smile. It’s a good reminder of your time together, and despite everything, you’re glad you have something to always keep close to you.

You return their hugs, each one carrying so much care and warmth that you missed out on because you were never one to accept them, to ask for them. You finally say goodbye and make a promise that you’ll catch up with them one of these days, one you know you’ll keep.

You all walk out. Mr. Ri helps you with your things then leads you towards the car.

“Last one for old time’s sake,” he smiles at you. “And it’s late. Let me drive you home.”

You don’t resist, knowing that as someone who’s looked after you for so many years, never faltering in his commitment to your mother or you, you’re truly going to miss him.

Sitting on the passenger seat, you look out the window and try to amuse yourself with the scenes outside. There are cars passing by and people trying to get home, probably grateful that another week is over. You wonder how many of them are nursing broken hearts, or are running away from something, or are hoping someone they pushed away comes back.

The tears are falling before you know it, and as you try to hold in your sniffles, you see Mr. Ri from your periphery glance at you before turning on the radio, gradually making the music louder so as to drown out your sounds. That continues for a while until the streets start to look familiar. Somehow, you dread going home - being alone at a time like this feels a little too much, but maybe you deserve that, too.

You arrive at your apartment, and Mr. Ri helps you in bringing all your stuff inside. He stays by the door and his soft eyes prompt you to speak.

“I thought he’d come,” you whisper. “I thought I’d see him one last time. He… he couldn’t even say goodbye.”

“You know it’s not always easy for people to do that,” he says. “Letting you go was hard enough. What if he says something that would push you even farther away?”

“I can’t be any farther than I am right now,” you sigh. “But we did this to each other. I didn’t want to stay and he… just let me walk away. I hurt him but everything else after hurt me, too. And I… I wish it didn’t. I—”

You’re unable to speak as you cry once more, all the conflicting emotions suffocating you from within. And all Mr. Ri can do is wipe your tears with his handkerchief and hope that could stop them somehow.

“This hurts me,” he utters the words so softly and so heavy with emotion. “It’s like watching my daughter get her heart broken.”

It’s what makes you smile, and you take the piece of cloth from him and dry your eyes.

“I could’ve been,” you say, knowing that he wanted a family at one point.

“That’s true. But most times I think that I would’ve been too burdened by what I’ve done that I wouldn’t have been able to love your mother the way she deserves,” he reasons. “And I’ll always think that I let her go so that she could find someone like Min-woo who’d love her without reservations, who’d be able to give her a life that she’d always dreamed to have and to give you.”

Mr. Ri recalls his own decisions and the heartbreaks that followed right after. They conflicted him, too, but in life, knowing what you want doesn’t always mean you get to express it the way you want to. Sometimes doing it makes it harder for everyone involved, and that’s what he thinks is what’s happening with you and Jungkook, too.

“I think it’s what Jungkook has learned,” he continues. “He has to let you go so you could find whatever happiness it is that you couldn’t find where you are. And as for you, you have to know that letting someone go right now doesn’t mean you can’t ever have them again. You just have to stop thinking you don’t deserve to want it.”

You take his words to heart as you bid him goodbye, and they stay in your head as you force yourself to sleep later that night.

You don’t know what kind of happiness you’re searching for. You don’t even know what happiness could truly be like with Jungkook, and the thought that maybe you’ll never know starts to scare you. It’s one you think you’d like to one day experience. But how could you when you pushed him away? Is it even something you could still want, given what you’ve done? Is it something he’d want to know as well? In the midst of the mess you created, could it still happen?

You’re reminded of what CEO Jeon had said not long ago, and you try to comfort yourself with it. You crossed paths with Jungkook for a reason. You’ve started to believe that you’re losing him for a reason. You just have to trust that if it’s meant to be, you’ll find him again for a reason as well.

You just hope that when you do, he’ll take you back again, ask you to stay, and you’ll be able to tell him with your whole heart that you will. And that it’s something you won’t ever regret.

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

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httpsserene · 5 months

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hey can I request something that’s angsty to fluff and then smut for Oscar where reader gets a ton of hate for dating Oscar so she kind of ghosts him for a bit and they figure things out

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰/𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: oscar really just wants to hear you laugh again. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. angst. fluff. happy ending. reader is exhausted physically and mentally. reader's internal monologue is not not nice. bad eating habits. bad sleeping habit. self-deprecation. don't worry she's back on her bs at the end. reader neglects herself (?) and her relationship. implied self-sabotage. people are mean. don't worry oscar is meaner. oscar piastri is a good boyfriend. emotional hurt/comfort. tenderness. intimacy. baths and pampering. crying (non-sexy). implied sex. implied bath sex. logan and lando as plot devices. no beta we die like my will to live during finals. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot w/ blurbs. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: best i ever had • drake

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: sorry it took me so long, i've changed this fic like multiple times :/ hope it fulfills you request properly :))) this is not my favorite thing in the world, i feel like if i went on a smaller scale i would've enjoyed this more but what can you do. this is also not very black reader coded? idk but feel like it's lacking there. i also apologize for my inability to write an oscar fic without including lando, he's such a willing plot device though even if he's a little ooc. i also couldn't find the mental space to write smut but there's smth for you at the end. dedicated to us women in stem! i hope you have fun reading this because i didn't have fun writing it :)

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oscar is worried. you haven’t responded to his texts for a week, he hasn’t seen your face for two weeks, and he hasn’t heard your voice for three weeks. four weeks ago, you told him you wouldn’t be able to fly out to see him at the austin grand prix, like you promised. you sounded exhausted and incredibly guilty when you explained that your course load this semester is extreme, and finals are rapidly approaching. oscar understood; he won’t ask you to sacrifice your education for one of his races, there will be plenty you can come to in the future. what he doesn’t understand is how you’re still functioning. it’s your senior year of university at an american ivy league school, you're pursuing an engineering degree, and you’re also working nearly five days a week as a barista. oscar thinks the last time he’s seen you relaxed is before your fall semester started, you spent your entire summer break with him, making appearances at the only three races you’ve been to this season (silverstone, hungary, and spa). the last time he recalls seeing your smile and hearing your laugh is in august—it’s the end of october now.

you’ve been ghosting him. oscar wants to believe that it’s unintentional, that it’s just a side effect of the amount of work and pressure on your shoulders—but he can’t accept that. if you were unintentionally missing his calls, facetimes, and texts, you’d spam respond to all of them with a voice message or paragraphs of texts before you went to bed or class. you would send him daily or weekly recap videos of how life is treating you, like you used to do. you would send him stupid videos of you messing around on your shifts during a pause of customers. you would send him thirty reels a day on instagram of brain dead shenanigans with little captions of how you reacted, or if you thought it would make him smile. you would send him fit checks every morning before you went to class, even though your outfit consists of a hoodie and sweatpants. you would send him tiktok edits of himself and tell him that he needs to stop being ‘so hot’ because you almost barked in the middle of class. you would ask him how he’s doing, you would respond to his texts the minute you could even if it's hours late, you would leave him voicemails if he doesn’t pick up, you would make an attempt to communicate.

except, you haven’t. so, he knows that you ignoring him is intentional, and that your lifestyle right now makes it easier for you to disguise your avoidance of him as accidental.

you didn’t say ‘i love you’ back.

“mate, what are you frowning for?” oscar jumps, eyes flying up from the phone screen and meeting lando’s. the brit is staring at him in confusion, the two of them are still in their race suits, tied around their waists. the sprint race ended an hour ago, and they’ve just finished celebrating oscar’s win.

“you’ve won a race, oscar—what could possibly make you sad after that?” lando says teasingly. but, the smile on his face is quick to fade as he must see oscar’s dejected mood.

the australian debates his next move for a moment, before deciding that telling lando isn’t a bad idea; they’ve been getting closer—they’re friends, oscar would say. he sighs, and hands his phone to lando, maybe he’ll tell oscar he’s worrying over nothing.

“oh,” lando says, eyes widening, “i’m sorry, mate.”

oscar brushes off lando’s words, and buries his face in his hands, “she’s pulling away from me. that was five days ago, and she hasn’t answered any of my calls. she’s only responded to my texts since then with one word answers or very dryly. she’s ghosting me.”

oscar feels lando fumbling for words, not needing to look at him to know that the older man has no idea how to go about reassuring oscar.

“look, mate, if it were me i’d go see her anyways.”

oscar huffs, “she literally said she doesn’t have time.”

“oscar,” lando stares at him in disbelief, “she hasn’t seen you in two months. i guarantee she’s probably dying to see you again, fuck whatever time she doesn’t have. she also can’t ghost you, if you see her face to face. you should go and try to fix whatever’s wrong, before you let her slip away.”

“maybe…maybe she’s just burnt out,” oscar suggests shakily, “i’ll go see her after the triple header–i’m probably just overreacting about this. she’ll be back to her usual self in time.”

oscar is enraged. he’s pissed off at his fans for attacking you in a sick twist of ‘defending him,’ ‘protecting him’ and the supposed ‘ownership’ they think they have over him. he’s pissed off at you deciding to ghost him instead of confiding in him about the hate you receive. he’s pissed off that his flight to you has been delayed for four hours. he’s pissed off at his race in brazil, if you can even call what happened a race. he’s pissed off at the fact that you can’t make time to see him before vegas. he’s pissed off that you lied to him about picking up extra shifts at the cafe.

he stalked through your instagram the minute after he was allowed to escape debrief, hunting down your roomates accounts from where you’ve tagged them in an older post. he innocently made a group message to the two girls, figuring it would be kind and proper to inform them of his impending arrival to surprise you. and the two girls you shared an apartment with responded eagerly to his message telling him that you’ve been extremely stressed and almost depressed this semester, and that hopefully his appearance will break through to you in a way they are unable to. oscar asked them if they knew your work schedule for the week, since you never told him when you're working–and learned that you lied. you didn’t accept any extra shifts, matter of fact, you got all of your shifts covered for the next two weeks. apparently, all you have been doing is going to class, working, studying furiously, and crying. when he asks if there’s any reason besides the stress from work and school that has you crying, the girls decline to speak for you, and strongly suggest that he asks you himself when he arrives.

oscar’s no longer pissed at you for lying to him or for ghosting him–he’s hurt, but, he already understands your motive. you don’t want to worry him, so you bottle it up and distance yourself to not make him aware of how you're struggling. he won’t let you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone anymore, he’s going to see you and he’s going to take care of you, and then he’ll sort out the ignorant people on the internet.

when he’s at your apartment, you’ll be coming home from your last shift before your time off. and then, once he has you in his arms, he can make everything right again.

your hands are shaking; a result from the mix of stress and exhaustion that has been plaguing you for a few weeks. it takes you four and a half attempts to unlock the front door to your apartment—this is an improvement, yesterday it took you six times. a trembling sigh of relief exits your lungs as you shut the front door, triple checking that you lock the door properly. you remove all of your outerwear and slip out of your shoes, half-heartedly making an attempt to neatly place them in the organizer you have by the door. (you fail to register how there’s only two pairs of shoes stored away; yours and a pair of shoes that look too big to be one of the girls you live with—the usual sneakers the girls wear are nowhere to be seen.) you grunt as you tenderly put on your backpack and slowly make your way into the kitchen, off-handedly murmuring a “hi,” in the direction of the living room since you can hear the tv playing, but you don’t even spare a glance to see which roommate it is—you can’t stomach anymore human interaction today.

your walk is more of a waddle; your legs and feet are sore from working nine-hour shifts five days in a row, and also from going to class four out of those five days. you place your backpack on the small island, and continue to gently meander towards the fridge. your stomach aches at the thought of food—which is unfortunate, considering you’ve only had one meal today. regardless, you will shove a sandwich down your throat, you need the energy if you’re going to study for three hours before you go to bed.

you pause before you open the fridge, a note is stuck on the door with a magnet. your roommates are gone; the two girls have spontaneously decided to go spend the weekend with their boyfriends—you’re not going to complain, you have the apartment to yourself. a brief wave of loneliness washes over you, you were kind of looking forward to venting about the week you had to the girls in the morning, and also, couldn’t they have texted you this earlier today? who leaves old-fashioned notes on the fridge anymore? you pull out your phone to send a text in your group chat wishing them a nice weekend, and see that they did, in fact, text you that they would be gone—three days ago. and, you never responded, because you never saw it. you shrug, and send the text anyways, you’ve been incredibly busy and you’re bound to miss a few texts (especially the eighteen texts from oscar that remain unopened).

you're just going through a little bit of a slump, and you’ve had a bad day. you accidentally messed up three orders today (out of the hundred you fulfilled, so three isn’t really terrible), your running off of four hours of sleep (you’re more energized when you sleep less, anyways), and a customer accidentally bumped into you as you were walking to bring coffee to a table, causing the hot liquid to spill and burn a little spot on the back of your hand by your thumb. well, you know it wasn’t purely accidental, as the girl giggled to the group of friends she was with after she “bumped” into you. based on the way she was wearing a mclaren hoodie, you can make several guesses as to why she did it—you’re kind of shocked that she noticed you even though you wear a mask at work (you have for about a month, too many fans have noticed who you are), her hate for a relationship that’s not hers should be studied for science.

incidents like these have made your coworkers start to…dislike you. the decrease in tips when you’re assigned to the register causes you to be forced to be hidden behind coffee machines the entire shift, only making drinks the entire nine hours you’re there. it’s better for you though, at least you can have a physical barrier blocking the prying eyes you feel are judging you the entire time. if anything, the recent atmosphere at work made you want to put in your two weeks—but, you have bills to pay. you’re just glad you managed to find a way to get two weeks off so you can focus on school and prepare for your exams—you can’t afford to fail, it’ll cost your scholarship and then you’ll need more than the job you have right now to finish school.

the buzzing of your phone pulls you back to the present—oscar’s calling. you squeeze your eyes shut for a few seconds, before you blink and silence the ringer. if you speak to him, you won’t be able to hide your troubles from him any longer; he reads you as easily as a kid’s picture book. he definitely doesn’t need to deal with your problems after whatever the hell happened in brazil. the noise of your phone startled you into a new thought, however. if the girls aren’t in the apartment, why the fuck is the tv on? who did you greet when you walked past the main room without a glance?

“i was calling to tell you that i’ve got takeout from the asian restaurant you like, if you’re looking for something to eat,” oscar says gently.

it’s a testament to how extremely exhausted you are: you don’t scream, you don’t fight, you don’t run—you just flinch slightly, and turn around slowly to face your boyfriend…the man you’ve been avoiding for nearly a month. at the sight of him (his fluffy hair, his soft sweater, the confused and concerned glint in his eyes) your lip starts quivering, and your eyes start watering. oscar’s gaze softens into something sweet yet empathic, and he says, “i know it’s been a while since we’ve last talked, but i didn’t think you’d cry at the sight of me.”

you burst into tears with a sob, and in a second oscar’s got you wrapped up in his arms, one hand soothingly massaging your back, while the other cradles your head on his shoulder. your borderline hyperventilating, your tears have started to soak his sweater, and you’re sniffling every two seconds to avoid getting snot on him too. oscar doesn’t try to quiet your tears, he doesn’t ask about what’s making you cry, he doesn’t even try to tell you that everything will be fine—he just holds you as you cry it out and presses kisses into your hair. eventually, the flow of tears dries and you focus on pulling in shaky breaths of air to calm down. oscar switches to holding you to his chest with one arm while he uses the free one to reach across the counter and grab a tissue. wordlessly, he wipes the wetness off your cheeks and under-eyes, he even uses another tissue to wipe your nose, clearing away the snot that managed to escape. you almost start crying again at the tender treatment and the matching look in his eyes, but you muster enough strength to keep the happy tears from falling over the waterline.

oscar nods once, deeming his cleanup complete, and clears his throat, “i’m going to heat up the food. then, we’ll eat and you’ll tell me what’s wrong and if that has anything to do with why you’re ignoring me.”

there’s no attempt from you to keep the façade up any longer, all you do is nod and step to the side so he can grab the food from the fridge.

oscar has already cleared his plate and you’re still picking through half of yours. the two of you are sitting on opposite ends of the couch, teen wolf is playing on a low volume, and your eyes are tunneled on the screen even though oscar can see that you’re not paying attention at all. one of the characters is screaming about having to get his arm cut off (stiles, probably) and suddenly you start talking to oscar.

“it’s been a shit semester. if i wasn’t graduating in spring, i honestly think i would’ve dropped out or taken a gap-year. and, i knew what i signed up for as an engineering major, and i knew that working was only going to add more on my plate—but, it’s not like i can quit my job, i have bills to pay. so, juggling school and work is difficult, and i was managing fine. but, i guess i made the mistake of scrolling through twitter—which is truly my fault i think—and everyone on the internet was calling me a ‘terrible girlfriend’,” oscar watches you scoff out a choked laugh, “and, i obviously didn’t believe i was. in the beginning, at least. i mean, it’s like they expected me to be at every race by your side, like i’m not working my way through a hellscape of a degree. i watched every practice session, qualifying, and race—they’re literally the only hours i don’t spend studying or working. i brag about you to everybody who would listen, i missed hours of sleep just to speak to you on the phone for five minutes, i work as hard as i can so i can finish this degree early so i can be with you as early as possible, and they say that you deserve a better girlfriend.”

you pause and rub at your eyes furiously, mouth opening and closing as you take time to find the words to continue. oscar quiets the flare of anger at your distress, and stays silent, not wanting to interrupt your speech, this is the most you’ve said to him in a month.

“the thing is: i-i i let their words get to me. i think it’s because i was being kicked while i was down—or whatever the phrase is. i was already mentally exhausted, and i already believe that i’m not doing my best this year, i’m disappointing everybody who knows me, i’m a shit student—and just seeing everybody agree, even though they’re just randoms on the internet, tore me down. i even deleted all of the apps off my phone,” your voice has shifted into something desperate, “so i couldn’t see what they were saying about me anymore, but it’s like once i saw it, it never left my mind. i feel like everybody is staring at me with condescending eyes, like they all think i’m terrible. and, logically, i know that’s probably not true. but, this semester has pushed me past the point of being able to rationalize properly. so as a result, i have become a ‘terrible girlfriend’ to you; like a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy.

“i avoid your calls, i leave you on delivered for days, i respond with one word, i lie to my friends and say i was up all night talking to you on the phone when i was really crying and studying at the same time, i hold back from bursting into tears in the middle of my shifts when one of your ‘fangirls’ spills their drink over me for the third time. and while doing all of this, i was hoping you’d do the hard part and just break up with me,” your voice rings out sharply and you refuse to look at your boyfriend, afraid to see the look on his face.

“because…” you whimper slightly, tongue flicking out to lick at your lips anxiously, “you do deserve a better girlfriend.”

oscar is lost for words at your conclusion; seeing you, one of the strongest women he knows break down, is a sight he never imagined. a sense of guilt builds within him, knowing that he’s added to the deprecating thoughts in your brain by postponing this intervention for weeks. you may think that he deserves someone better, but he hasn’t been the best to you either recently. if oscar was half the man you think he is, he would’ve never allowed you to avoid him in the first place. oscar stands up, collects your plate and his, and places them on the coffee table. he turns and drops to his knees in front of you, resting his hands on your thighs, and squeezes them gently to grab your attention. it takes a minute, but eventually you allow your eyes to fall to meet his, and oscar breaks further at the lack of light in your eyes.

“i think,” oscar starts quietly, “that you expect me to break up with you and leave—am i guessing correctly?”

you blink down at him and shrug, biting your lip to prevent it from quivering.

“i also think, that if i flew all this way to see you, and that if i listened to your heartbreaking recollection of how this semester and how the world has been incredibly unkind to you, and that if i sat here and still broke up you—it’s not me that deserves a better girlfriend; it’s you that deserves a better boyfriend.”

stunned, you stumble over your disagreement, but oscar steadfastly continues.

“you did the right thing by deleting your socials—and that would explain why all three hundred of the reels i’ve sent you have gone unseen,” he laughs lightly, “and even if their words took root, you prevented yourself from being able to see more of it every time you used your phone; so even if my pride is not needed, i am proud of you for doing that. i’m even more proud that you sat here and told me that you aren’t doing well, that you didn’t make an attempt to lie, and that i didn’t have to force you to tell me,” oscar says seriously, holding steady eye contact with you to make sure you're hearing him.

“i wish that you would have mentioned the hate you’re receiving as soon as it started, and that you would have told me your mental health was suffering too. you know i do everything in my power to avoid reading anything with my name in it unless it’s a credible article—so imagine my surprise, when i learned about what people were saying about you through a twitter thread logan, of all people texted me about,” you snort out a laugh at the feigned disdain in oscar’s voice when he mentions the american driver.

“you know i have no issues embarrassing people on the internet for their incorrect claims—and i’d especially tear them to shreds for trying to drag you down. we’ve been together too long for you not to come to me about things like this, even if it’s something that mildly upsets you—i want to know, because then i can make it better, or i can at least try to. you haven’t complained to me about the grueling lifestyle once, as i worked my way up to f1; if anybody could be perfect, it would be you. so, let me try to be as perfect as you, and support you properly and thoroughly as you finish up this degree, baby.

“we’re soulmates, aren’t we?” it’s a question, but oscar states it like a fact, “and i know i can’t magically make the self-loathing disappear with one conversation, but i'll tell you that you’re the best girlfriend i’ve ever had countless times, until you believe me unquestionably.”

oscar watches your nose scrunch cutely as you sniffle, unable to stop the tears that leak from the corners of your eyes. sweetly, he catches them with his thumb before they fall. he stands up and tugs you to your feet, pulling you into a tight, warm hug.

“i love you, kanga,” oscar coos as he kisses your forehead.

“i love you the most, roo,” you answer back, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“i’ve bought some lavender epsom salt and an embarrassing amount of bath bombs. will you let me take care of you tonight?” oscar asks quietly.

he sees the mix of awed-disbelief and confusion as you stare up at him, like you can’t imagine why he’d want to love you tenderly tonight, and that hurts him more—the words of his ‘fans’ online have done enough damage to cause you to doubt him. maybe he can convince you to come to vegas with him so he can keep you close, but first, he needs to focus on caring for you here and now.

oscar grabs his duffle bag and smiles as you hold his hand to lead him to your room and the attached bathroom (rent is ridiculously expensive, but at least you don’t have to share a bathroom with your roommates.) oscar sends you to grab pajamas while he starts filling the tub, epsom salt already poured in. he fiddles with the temperature for a while before it’s set to the boiling-your-skin-off hot you enjoy. by the time you join him in the bathroom, he’s added the salts and soap in the water and has placed the bath bombs out for you to choose one. oscar can’t help the small smile that rises to his face at the sight of the serious furrow of your brow as you pick out your favorite from the bunch.

oscar hums as you hand him the jade-infused bath bomb, and asks, “can i wash your hair too? or will it mess up your schedule?”

“i actually really need to wash it,” you murmur with a humorless chuckle, “i’ve been so busy that i haven’t been taking care of my hair properly.”

oscar blinks and continues non-judgmentally, “i’ll give you an extra scalp massage to make up for that—you can start getting undressed now, the water’s nearly ready.”

he turns around awkwardly, he’s seen you naked before but he feels like it would be slightly perverse to watch you while you’re clearly in a more sensitive state tonight. he fumbles with the faucet for a few seconds before turning it off, and drops the bath bomb into the water so it can start dispersing. oscar faces you again carefully making sure he avoids staring at your body and locks eyes with you, he beckons you forward with an outstretched hand and holds your hand as you submerge yourself in the water. once you’re settled comfortably, oscar grabs your hair products (he holds up any bottle he thinks you may not want to use tonight, and you give him a thumbs up or down to decide), and then kneels at your side.

he starts to roll up the sleeves of the hoodie but your hand halts his motions, the water splashing loudly at the quickness of your movement, “you’re not getting in with me?”

“uh,” oscar stutters, “i-i wasn’t planning on it. i just wanted to give you a nice bath.”

oscar pinkens as you stare at him wordlessly and when your unimpressed gaze shifts to a slight glare, he finds himself shedding his clothes and sinking in behind you at an impressive speed.

his heart began to race as the two of you shifted into as comfortable of a position you could achieve in a too-small tub, but calmed at your pleased hum as you settled between his legs with your back resting on his chest. this may be the most romantic experience oscar has ever indulged in. sure, it’s not a candlelit dinner at an obnoxiously expensive restaurant but, it’s him detangling your hair, it’s him massaging shampoo into your crown, it’s him scratching softly along your scalp as the deep conditioner sits, it’s you playing with the water innocently, it’s you whispering every detail of your life that he’s missed out on, it’s you gently directing him through braiding your hair, and it’s him pressing kisses to your shoulder when he finishes. there isn’t a single moment where the two of you become unsettled during lapses of silence; the intimacy of his actions is loud enough to fill the gaps. oscar can’t imagine ever being this comfortable with anybody besides you, he hates that he almost allowed you to pull completely away from him. moments like these, where you allow yourself to be thoughtlessly vulnerable with him, are exactly why he’s completely enamored with you.

your body has loosened against him, muscles syrupy and lax from the effects of a toe-curling scalp massage, and oscar gently guides you to sit upright while steadying most of your weight with a single hand splayed against your abdomen. the sound of the cap of your body wash clicking open startles you into the present, and you shift around to straddle his lap. it’s amusing; he inaudibly chuckles at the sight of you struggling to complete your change of position without sending water over the edge. you make a triumphant noise when you’ve managed to turn around to face him, and oscar’s hands cradle your hips when you rest on his lap.

“can i–”

“shouldn’t you–”

oscar bursts into laughter and you into giggles, at the interruption of each other's sentences. it’s definitely not that funny, but oscar’s heart skips a beat at the sound of your laugh–he hasn’t heard that sweet noise in what feels like forever. he motions for you to speak, ever the gentleman, and eagerly awaits for our question with a smile still stretched across his lips.

“shouldn’t you fuck me before we wash up? so we don’t have to clean up twice?”

oscar chokes on his breath, his grip on you tightening in surprise, and he babbles, “what? no-i mean, yes, i mean—wait. i didn’t do all of this just to have sex with you, you know that right? i genuinely just wanted to pamper you–”

“oscar,” you cut him off, intentionally this time around, “after the semester i’ve had, and the less than kind words i’ve heard and thoughts i’ve had describing myself–i really do appreciate the bath, i feel reminded that you love me. however, i really think that having sex would help…solidify your devotion for me.”

oscar blinks up at you, he wasn’t quite expecting you to return to your normal sassy behavior as quickly as you did. but, he is thankful that you’ve opened up to him with no further hesitation–it’s actually incredibly attractive of you, how you’ve resumed complete comfortability in expressing exactly what you want to him. at least, that’s the excuse he’s telling himself to cope with being half-hard already.

“...at least let me take you to bed, then?”

“no,” you whine down at him, your hips sneakily twitching forward, oscar moans lightly at the light grind, “too far! saves time later if we don’t have to come back to shower.”

“you’re right,” oscar hums distractedly, moving his right hand off your waist to slip between your thighs and brush along your cunt, “i’ll fuck you here as long as you let me do all of the work.”

oscar’s blood heats at the sound of your whimpering moan and he takes his other hand off your waist to grab at your chin and he pulls you down for a kiss.

oscar groans when you pause before your lips touch his, and he feels the breath of your giggle ghost over his mouth, “mmm, i’ll never say no to that—and, didn’t i agree to let you take care of me tonight?”

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz

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bloomries · 10 months

Text

eh? is there something on my face?

includes : the demon brothers (lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, and belphegor).

summary : you catch them staring at your face.

warnings : gn! reader.

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── lucifer

It's not often something captures his attention, less hold said attention. Yet, staring at the happy expression- at your laughter and joy- he feels like he could watch you for an eternity and never get bored. Deep ruby eyes boring into the side of your face make your giggles subside though, as you turn to him in concern.

"Lucifer? You okay?" He blinks, torn out of his oh-so-lovely trance and straightening up. Clearing his throat, he fixes his tie and finally breaks his gaze away from you. You furrow your brows, looking down at the mixing bowl you were holding. Had you splashed some food on your face?

"Is there something on my face?" You quickly ask before Lucifer could find an excuse to your first question. Examining you once more, Lucifer sees nothing, yet he can't refrain himself from lying- don't be too worried, he simply wants to be closer to you.

Taking a step towards you, his thumb brushes against your cheek. "There, all gone." He says with a small smile, hesitating to remove his gloved hand. Why? Why did you have to absolutely captivate him mind, body, and soul?

"Lucifer?" Your hand touches his, and you pull away his hand to see nothing on his thumb. "Were you pranking me?" You whine, and Lucifer can only chuckle as he takes a step back.

"Mm, that's exactly it. I got you."

How could he possibly confess he simply needs to be close to you, as fish to the sea, as bees to the flowers, as- well, as a heart to it's beloved.

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── mammon

Mammon had the pleasure of being able to curl into your side and sleep the night away, but sadly his mind was too active for him to really make any progress on the front so instead he opted to prop himself up on his elbow and watch you.

He would occasionally snicker at something you mumbled in your sleep or the little expressions you'd make in response to your wild dream. Mammon found it much more entertaining that being caught in his own thoughts.

Its peaceful, quiet. You're there, and it's all Mammon really needs.

Mammon honestly didn't realize he was staring. He was trying to etch every curve and plateau of your face into his memory for all eternity when he nearly shit himself as he met your sleepy gaze.

Recoiling backwards, he hit his head on the wall and groaned in pain, before awkwardly looking back at you. A tired chuckle escaped you, and you rolled on to your side, giving him a teasing smile.

"Hi creepy~" Mammon whines at the little nickname, but you just giggle and move to snug closer to him. "Don't worry, I don't mind if you're a lil creepy." You mumble into his chest, closing your eyes again.

"I'm not creepy," He pouts, wrapping his arms around you. "I'm just stupid in love," He whispered to himself, but in the dead of night it was loud and clear and made your chest all fuzzy and warm.

"I love you too~"

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── leviathan

Leviathan is so happy you agreed to be his model- especially since he made the cosplay costume with you in mind, with your exact measurements and all! He was grinning from ear-to-ear as he snapped photo after photo. "You look so good!" He squeals quietly to himself, moving to get into another position when he pauses his gaze through the lens.

Ah. He just suddenly had a thought. His heart swells in his chest as he stares at you, his smile becoming a little more bashful. You were always so kind, so nice. You were even letting him dress you up in cosplay and take pictures! You always indulged in his hobbies and interest for him. He felt so lucky to have met you!

"Levi?" You blink innocently at him, no longer holding the pose you were doing as you walk over to him and bend down to meet his gaze properly. "You okay? You're staring pretty hard- Was the pose wrong?"

"Huh? O- Oh! Yeah, I'm- ha, I'm fine." He nods, ignoring his shaky hands. "You, you were fine too! But, uhm, maybe we s- should take a break?" Levi still can't find it in himself to tear his gaze away from you, perhaps it's his lovestruck heart?

"Sure! Should we get something eat? Wanna go somewhere or order in?" His eyes widen and he nearly drops his camera.

"Y- You'd go out in cosplay?" You look down at the costume and shrug, you didn't really care what people thought. You look up at him and smile.

"Of course! You worked so hard on it, the world deserves to see it." You giggle, deciding to praise him to see his cute blushy cheeks. He nearly chokes on air, sputtering out a response- this is perhaps the first time he's ever wanted to willingly go out in public!

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── satan

Satan regrets agreeing to Mammon's silly idea as he now sits in a cramped booth with a baseball cap and sunglasses on. Hiding his face behind a menu as he stares at you.

You had complained to him about the waitressing job before, especially a certain costumer who liked to come in just to flirt with you. In an aggravated state he mindlessly agreed to stalk you at work to catch a glimpse of this demon and maybe beat some sense into them. Although that thought has long since perished as his mind is now filled with how cute you look in your waitressing outfit, and how you chat easily with the older couple you're serving.

"Dude, quit starin', you're gonna get us caught!" Mammon hissed, but Satan ignored him. Even if he wanted to, he could take his eyes off you. He still can't believe he's dating you something! And besides, you seemed pretty busy, you probably wouldn't even notice-...

You're walking their way, arms crossed over your chest and a smug look written all over your face. Well, they've been caught.

"Hey handsome." You smile, "You were staring pretty hard- got something you want to order?" You ignore Mammon's sputtering excuses, focusing on Satan who's red in the face from embarrassment- and a tinge of lovesick awe.

Satan clears his throat, well he was caught staring and stalking you at work, probably not his best look. Still, he smiles up at you, "You wouldn't happen to be on the menu, would you?"

"Very cute." You say, your smile is practically dripping venom. "Not enough to keep me from teasing you later, but still cute." Satan can't help but to think it's still well worth it- he managed to get to stare at your face, after all.

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── asmodeus

You were trying to study with Asmodeus, but you seemed to be the only one studying. Asmo sighs loudly again, capturing your attention and making you glance up at those gorgeous eyes. "What is it now?"

"I'm bored," He whines, taking your hand that rested on the desk. "Lets do something more fun, yeah?" You shake your head, removing your hand from his.

"I really need to study, but you can do something else if you like." You offer, and he grumbles under his breath that you're 'no fun' but ultimately ends up staying in his place. His inquisitive eyes studying your features.

Resting his head in his arms, he blows some hair out of his eyes to continue his fond staring. It took you twenty minutes to figure out he was staring at you, and when you did you couldn't help the heat that rose to your cheeks.

"What-... What are you staring at?" Asmo can only grin at your sudden bashfulness. He sits up properly, leaning in close to you with a flirty twinkle in his eyes.

"Your beautiful face." He hums, eyelids lowering a little as he now obviously stares at your lips. "How could I not admire something with beauty akin to mine, hm?" He tilts his head, wetting his lips.

"You," You pause, realizing what he was trying to do. You shake your head, "You really are a demon, huh? Trying to tempt me- well it's not going to work." Asmo pouts in a defiant manner.

"Fine, I'll just continue to stare at your lovely face then."

"Don't be so shameless, lover boy."

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── beelzebub

Beelzebub really was trying to pay attention to the movie, but he had something much more interesting to look at. He felt a little guilty, especially since you claimed you wanted to see this movie since you seen the trailer for it, alas, Beel just couldn't help the way his eyes kept shifting back to you.

Your reactions were much more entertaining- every little giggle, gasp, and groan had him smiling fondly. It was when he had glanced over again to admire you that he met your eyes this time. You had a cheeky smirk and his heart leapt into his throat.

"I caught you," You whisper, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Do you not like the movie?" You ask, although you're simply teasing him. You had caught him staring earlier too but he didn't seem to notice then, so you'd tease him the next time he turned to stare a little more.

"The movie is fine." He whispers back, leaning in closer so you can better hear him- now it's your turn for your heart to do backflips. "I just like looking at you more," He continues, pulling back with an innocent smile. Does he truly have no idea what he's doing to your heart!?

"I- Is that so?" You clear your throat, shifting in your seat. Beel worries- did he make you uncomfortable? About to ask if you're okay, you speak up again and make his eyes widen a fraction. "I like looking at you too." You can't meet his eyes, but if you did you'd notice the blush that spread on his cheeks, and the cheery smile that formed.

Gently, Beelzebub took hold of your hand and gave it a light squeeze. "Should we go get something to eat after?" And naturally, you agree, because it meant you'd be able to see his face some more.

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── belphegor

Belphegor already regrets leaving his room in favor of sleeping on your lap in the common room. His head was laid in your lap, your fingers soothingly running through his messy, tangled locks, and this would be the most perfect conditions to take a nap it- except for that fact you were talking to some of his brothers!

His brows twitched in annoyance, and he finally shifted so his head was facing upwards instead of towards your stomach. He was boring holes into your chin, glaring at you. You should really only be paying attention to him anyways- even better, you two should just go to the attic and take a nice nap.

You continued to talk, not noticing his staring gaze that slowly softened into one of admiration. He irritated thoughts subsiding, instead preferring to think about how lovely you look today and how kind you are to play with his hair.

"I think someone is awake." He heard one of the nuisances say, and you finally look down to catch him staring at you. He blinks in shock- he didn't expect to be caught staring! Blushing, he turns back on to his side, closing his eyes.

"You were talking too loud." He grumbles, hoping you don't tease him for staring. And you don't, although you've got quite the smug glint in your eyes.

"Sorry, Belphie, we'll be more quiet." He huffs, and you quirk a brow. "Not good enough?"

"Can you just come back to the attic with me?" And whilst his brothers complained about him being too clingy and always taking up your time, you helped the big baby (Belphie) up and said your goodbyes- you were just thinking of taking a nap anyways!

And also this is the perfect opportunity to tease him-

꒰ ❀ ꒱ thank you for reading. have a wonderful day, darling!

#obey me x reader #om x reader #omswd x reader #obey me imagines #om imagines #omswd imagines #obey me headcanons #om headcanons #omswd headcanons #obey me fluff #om fluff #omswd fluff #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader

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woso-dreamzzz · 11 days

Text

Periods

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You find the period products

It's quiet in the house.

It's to blissful silence that Magda wakes up to.

She'd taken a quick nap in the rays of the midday sun, legs aching slightly from playing a full ninety yesterday.

But it's silent when Magda finally wakes up. She stretches for a moment before contemplating if she could fit in another nap before dinner.

The silence is comforting and it's almost enough to lull her to sleep again.

Almost...

Because suddenly, Magda's brain catches up with her ears and she realises it's silent in a house where there's an under five living.

Pernille had gone out earlier to grab things from the bakery so Magda had captured you in her arms for a midday nap.

But you're not in them now.

Magda doesn't want to think about how long it's been since you'd escaped her.

She takes the stairs two at a time, ears straining for any evidence that you're still in the house.

There's a clatter in the bathroom and Magda wrenches the door open.

She freezes, a bubble of laughter being shocked out of her.

"Hi, Morsa!" You chirp, lifting your head for a second before ducking it back down again.

Magda gapes, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"I...Princesse?"

"Morsa!" You say back," Hello!"

You don't look at her again as you methodically open up the snaitiary pads that she keeps in the sink cabinet.

"What...What have you got there?"

"Found big stickers!" You reply as you stick the sticky side of the pad onto the floor.

You've covered yourself in them. One on each cheek and another on your forehead.

You're methodically place more pads on the floor.

"They're fuzzy!" You exclaim happily, running your little fingers over the non squishy side.

"Princesse..."

"And there's fuzzy things with strings!"

You pick up a box of tampons and shake it.

Honestly, Magda thinks it's kind of impressive that you've able to open the tampon packaging to fish one out to show her. It'[s only in the back of her mind though because she can feel her eye twitching.

"Princesse," She says again, forcing a smile on her face," You can't play with these."

You frown. "Why?"

"Because..." Magda's mind races as she thinks of an excuse. "Because they're for big girls."

You give her a look. "I'm a big girl. You say I'm a big girl all the time."

Magda's winces. That's true. "Well...they're for adult big girls and you're not an adult yet, are you?"

You think for a moment before nodding, head bobbing up and down. "Okay," You say," I leave your fuzzy stickers and strings alone. You can play with them."

Magda gently pulls the pads off your face, kissing each bit of skin she uncovers. "Thank you, princesse."

The incident is done by the time Pernille gets home and it's so insignificant that Magda doesn't even remember to mention it to Pernille.

So Pernille is very blindsided by it all one day at lunch when you dig around your practice bag looking for the 'present' you bought for Jessie.

Pernille shrugs at the questioning look Jessie sends her. She's as much in the dark as Jessie is.

"Found them!" You say triumphantly.

Pernille's mouth hangs open as you present Jessie with a pad and tampon. You take it a step further when you unwrap the the pad, stick it on Jessie's wrist and pull down the wings to keep it secure.

"It's fuzzy!" You tell Jessie, who can do nothing but stare in shock," So you can stroke it when you feel sad! And! And! This is fuzzy too!" You pull the tampon out of its packaging and Jessie's mouth hangs open further. "You can swing it around by the string!"

You demonstrate, grinning triumphantly just as Pernille comes to her senses.

"Princesse," She says, still reeling from the fact that you had somehow broken into the period products without anyone noticing," Where did you get those?"

You shrug. "At home. I tried to play with them but Morsa said they're for adult big girls and I'm only a kid big girl. But Jessie's an adult big girl! And I think Jessie deserves presents because she's my favourite!"

"That's nice..." Pernille says," And Jessie's very grateful but maybe we should stop handing these out."

You frown. "Why?"

"Well..." Pernille takes a moment to think of an excuse. "Because we don't want Jessie's gift to be any less special. It won't be as special if you keep handing them out."

You think it over for a moment before it makes sense and you nod. "Okay. Just presents for Jessie."

"Good girl," Pernille says, a soft kiss being pressed to your crown," Now Jessie's going to hide her gifts so no one feels jealous."

Your head bobs up and down. "Okay! Good plan!"

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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capslocked · 6 months

Text

KINKVEMBER DAY: 6

[prompt: blowjob]

male reader x hyeju

12k words

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone who actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

The first time you hook up with your roommate, it’s because of genetics - though not in the weird, uncontrollable way your body gets rigid and sensitive to any pretty girl who wears nothing but a towel moving between her bedroom and the bathroom, or how her eyes might flick fast from your chest up to yours - or given that the absolute shape of her is a blessing from one god or another (benevolent, clearly). That's not why Hyeju and you find yourselves only a few months later grinding on each other after the clock ticked past midnight, making out on New Year's Eve.

No, it has to do with the fact that Hyeju's nearly failing the nine AM section of molecular genetics because she's spent every lecture doodling stars and planets and planets shaped like asscheeks and planet-ass constellations while everyone else writes notes or doom scrolls twitter or whatever and she is somehow simultaneously the only student who never slept with her face on the lab desk or missed an assigned reading and the only one who absolutely needs a tutor.

It's just cosmic odds that you'd be that one: her roommate, who shouldn't be talking so loudly in the library about sex (in a sort of non-sexy, Mendelian kind of way) or be thinking the kind of things you've started thinking when Hyeju wears one of her more sleepshirt-esque long sleeves, her voice getting lower as you rattle off, "fruit flies and thale cress, definitely, it's just an error of fate or chromosome splitting..." before trailing off into a question.

"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," she finally tells you. You listen to her sigh into the binding of her textbook, facedown. "I'm really going to bomb this exam."

You tap her hand twice with your highlighter across the desk. "Then you're pretty damn lucky, if you think about it."

She turns to you, smiles a bit. "Okay, point. The worst thing will be having to retake this stupid fucking class."

"Why didn't you ask for help or go to office hours if you knew you were... failing?"

"Maybe because doing anything more than the bare minimum to get through a class I don't care about is my definition of, failing," she mumbles. "Why didn't anyone tell me a single lab is worth half my grade? Or that the TA is this fucking unreliable? How is this the one thing, really, beyond the basics, that can't be taught by wikipedia, a wikihow article and a youtube video?"

You scoot your seat closer to her. "You really need to relax."

"Fucking tell me about it."

You turn it over in your mind a few times, capping the top of your highlighter.

"Want me to get you off?"

And it’s not like you really mean it, when you say it, which is the strangest thing: you wouldn't actually suggest it, normally, wouldn't mention it in passing and then leave yourself open to the follow up and cross examination; yet there it is, after three, four hours of cramming notes on heterochronicity and the sloshing of gametes - you actually did propose it.

Hyeju jerks up, surprised.

"Are you serious?" She looks around, nearly snorting. "In the library?"

The face you’re giving her makes her scoff.

“You’re absolutely nuts.”

You have character flaws; the inability to admit wrongdoing chief among them. Hell, maybe it's from your mother - or maybe all your brains are just scrambled by the fact that Hyeju's sitting there with her pen against her pretty lips, hair glossier than usual as she scans your face and makes your entire body feel like a reactor core in meltdown.

Maybe you can blame what comes next on that.

"I'm always serious. I'm asking a serious question," you whisper, closing the textbook and resting your elbows on top. You look around quickly, like you're sneaking something in instead of this perfectly reasonable exchange, the perfectly platonic - except maybe not so much - way for friends to help each other.

"And I'm wondering what you're asking." Her cheeks are definitely pinker, you think, or the way it fills out her face, from the bottom up, is just that easy to imagine.

“I’m saying you haven’t gotten laid in months.” Here, you realize, these blocks of mental logic that definitely weren’t there when you blurted it out start to coalesce into something solid as you go on.

And you hadn't been wrong when you thought no one had given Hyeju a helping hand in a long, long time: you've heard through the walls or the floorboards at odd hours of the morning that she spends far too long fingering herself to a mind-numbing, tear-worthy frustration that leaves her knuckle-deep but never, ever sated or satisfied.

"No one's around, you'll feel better. You said it yourself."

Not a work of your imagination here - her ears are fucking burning.

"Wait a minute." She pushes her chair back, away from you and your gleaming offer. It clatters on its back legs, and a librarian waves her finger in warning. You wave back, sheepishly, until she stops and Hyeju stands and moves away from the table to talk, hands crossed over her front.

She turns and asks in a hushed-down-voice, "how did you know - did you hear something last night?"

"You couldn't keep it down even if you wanted to, honestly."

Hyeju turns further and throws a glare at the library doors, because obviously her noisiness and their collective noisemanship, or whatever the hell the word is, is clearly the root of the whole goddamn problem.

"Look - if not, no big deal - but I'm just saying you'll probably get over it and at least think less about sex. Or at least the wrong kind of sex."

You expect her to turn, sigh, and ask if you've lost your mind. Expect her to gather her jacket from the back of her chair, take her books and stomp out the room. Or even burst out laughing at the insanity, before slapping your arm lightly, in playful retaliation - anything other than the serious look she gives you in return, tilting her head, pressing her lips.

She turns up at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating something. And it's cute. It's so very, very cute, how her mouth pouts as she considers the possibility, right up until she says, "okay, fine."

The moderate twist of surprise taking hold in your brow must be visible.

"Oh, don't tell me that was all talk. Get me thinking about the right kind of sex or whatever."

You laugh, which has the librarian staring at both of you - until the librarian stops staring and probably sees Hyeju sliding back into her chair, the full, pent-up weight of her concentration pointed your way, knees inching apart - you, and Hyeju waiting, your knee bumping into her inner thigh, leaning closer as the textbook hits the floor.

"Don't laugh."

"Not laughing, seriously. Not laughing," you stammer. “I just think you’re just full of surprises.”

She spreads her knees further and sits taller, looking right at you.

"So then, surprise me," and then presses her cheek to the crook of your elbow.

You slide your chair right into the space next to hers, nuzzling up into the space under her ear. “Keep studying, Hyeju, you’ve got shit to do.” And then you slide your hand beneath the waist of her sweats, knead the swell of her thigh until you find the seam where her leg meets her body, press your palm down on the place just next to her center, your thumb in the middle. All this perfect pressure.

"Fuck," Hyeju says under a shudder. She's breathing heavier when your hot, open-mouthed kisses start landing at her neck, and she probably tries to read her textbook for about forty-five seconds longer. But there's the clench of her jaw right as your middle finger begins tracing circles beneath the fabric of her panties, and her gaze is blurring until she can't tell the difference between an allele or your fucking name.

"Shh-shh," you quiet her, finger tapping harder, playing with the slick wetness beneath all those layers of thick cotton and pressing two fingers there until her knees part like they’re not interested in resisting at all. Your lips press a kiss to the shell of her ear and she tenses all at once, hand shooting up to cover her mouth.

She simply leans back, closes her eyes, and lets you take care of her.

“Okay, you’re right,” she says, shaky and uneven, “that really did take some of the edge off. Did we ever review - poly- uh, pol-polymers here?"

The sweatshirt sleeve falling off your shoulder is a hindrance to any actual reading; her shifting against the chair isn't helping either, but you manage to push down the thoughts of stripping her down completely and giving her your tongue as yet another distraction.

"What did the syllabus say? I don't know if we need to read too far on 'polymers'," you say, having going through an entire afternoon without considering this once, but as you curl your fingers and take an honest crack at cramming the remaining chapters into her head, the knowledge that no one else is getting her this wet - except for whoever she's got in her mind's eye at three AM - is enough to get you feeling a little dizzy.

It’s probably supposed to be weird, given that you’ve never gotten any of your other friends off spontaneously in the library, or there's the fact that you can't really avoid each other afterwards, how she shows up in a silk negligee when you're pouring coffee before sunrise to prep for another day and you have the opportunity to notice - yes, she has amazing taste in underwear, yes, you might not have really appreciated her chest and figure enough before - yes, fuck it. She catches you noticing that first time, after coming downstairs with nothing but one of her cropped t-shirts and her board shorts, and she smirks when she realizes you're still thinking about it that afternoon, when her foot grazes yours while you're both washing dishes, and she dries the plate in her hand with a slow swipe.

And it is weird, actually, to describe what’s going on between you in words.

A few words, anyway, like a one-word label to describe what it was: friends or roommates-with-benefits, or - fuck buddies - god, it's even worse. Fuck buddies? Fuck friends? Something equally terrible and stupid that still makes sense, like something out of a shitty rom-com: it doesn't capture any of the rest of the myriad ways in which things can feel less or less friendly between two people.

So, friends was never, ever going to cut it. Roommates - although technically correct - is just this side of too clinical. And let's be clear: strangers don't wake up every morning together, walk to the same class, sit close together in the middle seats, secretly flick a strangers' skirt up in an empty lecture hall and get on their knees and work your mouth onto her pussy and watch the legs of the desks shake when her feet arch into the floor.

"The notes you've got are better than mine," is how Hyeju tries to put things, the next day and every time after that, standing in the doorframe, or at the foot of your bed and looking every bit the disheveled and hopeless mess you imagine she might spread out over the sheets of her own.

It gets complicated, which isn't really a surprise.

"You think your roommate is going to be home tonight?" is the question that comes up multiple times - from a revolving door of pretty names and faces. Hyeju has at least one opinion, if not more, on each of them.

"Tell Jinsoul I say hi," she says once, watching you get ready for a date, and you nearly bang your knee on the edge of the bathroom vanity.

It's one of the more harmless comments she's offered.

Another, backhanded: "if you’re just looking for a blowjob everyday between lunch and our physics lab, let Hyunjin or Heejin or whatever-her-name-is know she's easily my favorite," Hyeju says on your way out one morning, still under her covers.

Or,

Hyeju's texted a simple "uh, Chuu? really??" when you mention, once, how much fun you've been having - and what kind, as you make a round of self-conscious and rambling phone calls the next day that land you with only one prospect for the night - but your roommate's also no longer being your roommate by the end of it, bouncing against your thighs in the bathtub and moaning something about please more and fuck or fucking make me cum; the details escape you a bit.

That's what friends are for, probably.

Still, in the same, bare-bones explanation, friends also aren't for falling asleep on you - or letting you hold her - or fucking you awake in the middle of the night. Friends aren't for pushing down your jeans when the early-morning dew settles on the back patio, or jerking you off in the seat beside yours with a sweatshirt over your lap when a group project is due later and you all should probably work on that and instead get yourselves off and leave the mess of what you're doing half-finished. Friends aren't, probably, for offering to watch you rub your palm up and down your cock the night before next semester's exams when you can barely sit in a single chair and you can't think about molecular biology or neurochemical transcriptions when your whole body aches to do the transcribing. (If you can catch that drift.)

The lists of who are and are not good enough for you goes on and on - the latter longer than the former.

So, there's Choerry, who according to Hyeju is 'straight up, a total slut'. Yeojin, who gets mistaken for your little sister enough times that Hyeju refuses to - in good faith - let you keep sleeping with her. Both Heejin and Gowon are apparently too pretty for you. "Kim-lip?" she asks, in the middle of peeling garlic, "is that one name or two?" And laughs into a bottle of beer, loud, while you're telling her to quit being nosey and watch her fingers with the damn knife.

"You have a problem."

"Why, because I asked a few simple questions? I think anyone would be a little curious with the -" she pauses to wave her fingers - "I'd be remiss to not be interested in the very drama that unfolds literally across the hall."

She waggles her eyebrows.

You look up at the ceiling. God save you, you think. "Hyeju."

("Seriously," Hyeju chimes in one evening, arms around you, and a mouthful of the dinner you'd cooked.

"You need better taste in girls. Don't waste time on anyone too dumb, or who drinks the milk straight from the carton, or doesn't wash her socks with the same load of laundry. Oh, and - no one who chews loudly. No one who can't tell you're going to cum. The worst is someone who doesn't know what you like, trust me on that. And remember the last rule: don't do anything with someone who eats at a really slow pace, it's incredibly depressing."

You rest your chin on her shoulder from the spot behind her. "Duly noted, oh Master of all Knowledge."

She sighs into your arm, but in the next moment, her voice gets a lot softer, her hips fidgeting slightly against you. "I just mean you're the kind of person people would want to sleep with again," she says, before turning to say your name and kiss you again and again as your bodies curl inward.

"I wonder what that means, Hyeju," you say.

"Fuck," Hyeju groans as you slide further into her, pushing her back into the sofa - hands on her shoulders, legs bent on her either side, "don't tease me like this.")

The first snowfall of the year is mild, a tiny dusting, nothing that sticks on the pavement in the alley or on the sidewalks - or the lintels - or in Hyeju's hair, but by evening, when the snow picks up and everything goes quiet, Hyeju has changed into flannels and wool socks in anticipation, curled up like a cat at one edge of the window ledge as the world begins to go white. It's enough that you even pull on a thicker sweatshirt, open up a book, and join her.

She turns toward you, quiet.

You've reached a point in the semester where this, the silence, doesn't unsettle you anymore. It's the space you fill up with time in-between, where you can see the contours of her body against the orange lamplight of the space heater, or watch her kick off the top half of the duvet at night as you fight over space in her bed and wonder about the bare skin peeking out from her shorts.

"Feeling bored?" She slides her foot a little closer to yours, almost imperceptibly. "Am I keeping you entertained enough?"

Her lips pull up at the corner. You chuckle.

"Oh, no."

She scoffs and puts her hands on her knees, pushes herself closer to the window sill and bumps her elbow into your shoulder. The bare skin of her neck and shoulders and face is getting a little redder as she cranes it forward. "Okay, if not, do you need someone to entertain you, maybe."

Your mouth twists, fighting a smile.

Hyeju is so close to you, you could kiss her really, really easily and not care how she'd feel about that. It's not a habit, not as often as it used to be, but every once and a while - she starts this game. Every once in a while, Hyeju just starts smiling like that, and leans into you like she's daring you to play along, hard round of chicken until it's clear what the two of you are doing with each other; the minutes pass by, one, then two, and then - maybe she pushes first, her leg on yours, or a kiss to your jaw or a palm on your back as she walks behind you - and then you'd turn and kiss her full on the mouth and pull at her clothes like nothing's holding you back.

She cocks a smile, and says, "why don't you go and call what's her name."

"Because."

You glance out at the cold, gray light outside. If you had a better understanding of any of the workings inside you, you could reach forward and tell her everything that's stopped you.

You're supposed to meet the girl-of-the-month at a New Year's party. Hyeju looks disgusted within the first ten seconds of the whole story.

"Heejin dumped you once, like, two months ago? For no reason."

"It wasn't a break-up. We talked about what we did wrong and we're doing better," you say, lifting one finger.

She glares, then, tilts her lips into this unamused purse that you can't take seriously at all when she starts walking back and forth across your living room, hands moving emphatically to the sides as she speaks, like she's in the process of unveiling a brilliant argument and is using both palms to guide your eyes toward the unquestionable logic. "God, you're the worst. You're just her easy fuck and you'll still answer her late night calls, really."

She leaves the rest unsaid - that she's just not that into you.

"I don't tell you which boys or girls you can call up," you try, putting on a boot. "If you'd like, I can. Name off the list, and make sure that the right name leaves my mouth this time."

Hyeju doesn't blush when you glance up, which is the surprising thing. No - her cheeks have grown a little more sullen, and she stares down at her socks in contemplation. You're in the middle of fastening up the lace and getting to your feet, waiting, wondering if Hyeju's going to continue this conversation, when Hyeju takes one small step forward.

And her hand goes out to touch your chin, thumb at your lip, fingers holding it in place - like you'll turn if she lets it go - the sharp shock of the sensation like a short circuit, before her knee comes between yours, and your body tingles, at the root and stem. "Hey," she says, eyes meeting yours. The edge of her nail flicking gently as she drags the curve of her thumb downward.

"Hyeju, please - I need to get going."

When you start walking toward your car, she calls out from the window. Something about how you better have the time of your life, fun for the two of you - it’s only fair.

(You feel, somewhere, a certain strange loss.)

"What, are you going to stay up and wait until I come back? Or am I interrupting your session for the night."

You can barely make it out, the smallest look passing over her face. "Maybe," she says, and then: "god, it's fucking cold."

New year's parties have this sort of quality of being simultaneously the most thrilling, exciting prospect on earth and the absolute worst fucking event in the history of the planet - depending on the venue, how egregious the racket is for a gin and tonic, the guests - oh, and the company.

Jinsoul and Choerry are both in attendance; in separate corners and in equal states of undress and intoxication, which seems fine by every present party, who are for the most part busy ogling one or the other in the full spirit of the New Year - as you would too, if the stars are aligned and Heejin hasn't already gone upstairs with half the guestlist, her arm wound with someone else's, as per her recent habit; if you haven't been tossed aside for any of the usual, less forgettable prospects and for something bigger, better and certainly much more enjoyable.

Which, if there were any way to track these things down with math, you'd already be reaching for your pen and notebook, as Hyeju would describe this sensation in a phrase she picked up from some podcast. Inevitable means necessary, or something.

"Good party," says Heejin, throwing back another drink.

"Yep. You said that," and you finish yours in one long draw, hissing through your teeth.

Heejin is a goddamn delight, of course, in all the simplest of ways. When she looks up at you - mouth pink, hair framing her face - she is so clearly and completely aware of what she is, and exactly what the world has in store for her, what it has set aside.

"Do you want to know what happened at the other New Year’s party we went to last year?"

"I - yeah. Hit me. Tell me all about (another date you were on) Heejin, that’s exactly what I’d love, let’s hear it."

She throws her head back and laughs, before starting into an overlong recount of her latest, greatest conquest, you on the outside. This is the thing - this is how a pretty face, with just a hint of a flirt, will make you feel for a beautiful, attractive, vivacious - absolutely shameless, raving sex-crazed lunatic of sorts who, apparently, loves to run around town and make a bunch of your closest friends fall in love and heartbroke-er, with every passing notion of her beauty, her charm - just the tilt of her chin, and some poor fucker is lost, absolutely lost.

Even she knows it's a bad habit of hers.

But who doesn't have a weakness? You've got plenty of your own - plenty, Heejin can admit - everyone does, in a way, and so Heejin, the other sloppy drunks milling about the party, and Choerry and Jinsoul all agree - someone like her just happens to have the best kind of weakness - so, so many of them, in fact:

"Can you believe how easily a few words get Jinsoul riled up? Or how it only takes a couple drinks for Choerry to pull up the hem of her skirt, not knowing the effect that'll have?"

And as for the last, and arguably worst kind -

"Hyeju, huh? What a great start to the New Year," is her final word. Heejin reaches across and downs your drink. Her expression turns just shy of grave, a pensive look. "Not your smartest idea, the living-together situation. Who in their right mind would put themselves in such a mess?"

"Thanks for the great advice." You wave her off, irritated.

There's another laugh before Heejin leans her face onto the table.

"Though maybe she's onto something, now that I think of it. Who needs anyone for the New Year?" and it's almost convincing the way her mouth, lined up with the rim of the glass, smirks when she drinks. "Mm. All a matter of taste."

The snow is halfway up your calves when you realize you need to find a cab at 11:30 PM on New Year's Eve. (Which, categorically, is the worst time to need to find a cab on New Year’s Eve.)

Or just:

11:36 PM and the nearest bus stop is too far away.

11:41 and the temperature feels like its dropped by fifteen degrees, like you should start wondering what hypothermia symptoms look like and what signs to look out for in yourself, your future wife and your children. You try not to think about why, but you get your phone out and immediately call Hyeju, so you're not sure what you think you're denying.

"No party?" she asks. Her voice is distant and sleep-ridden, but Hyeju's quick to pick up, like always.

"It sucked, I'm trying to find a way home early. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year." There's a long pause, filled in by the squeak of snow beneath your boots. "Get a kiss?"

"Uh, not yet. In the market, I guess."

Hyeju's low hum isn't reassuring, either. "Well, you're kind of missing your window. Bad time to start looking."

"Says you, and here you are - still up for someone to spend the night with. Look at you," you respond, all this snark in your voice that she clearly hears. There's a long sigh.

"Actually," and Hyeju, much to the confusion of you and possibly the whole world, doesn't respond, and for a few seconds, the line goes completely silent, leaving you hanging.

She breathes once and comes out of her sleep with a yawn.

"I actually," she begins. There's a lot less preamble this time - this tone - and when she speaks again it comes through not nearly as sleepy, "was sorta wondering. Are you on your way home?"

"If I don't freeze to death, yeah."

"Yeah - no, yeah," and that's it. That's the sum total of what makes any difference between where you were a moment ago, and where you are right now, head spinning, fingers buzzing. Hyeju waits and there's the wind on the line, snow settling on your hat and in the corners of your face.

"I - sorry. I probably woke you up. Are you expecting someone else," you say, very small. Your foot drags behind the other. The cars whizz by you faster, passing.

"Hm. You're the only one, I guess," and after that - just static and the muffled sounds of her footsteps on creaky floorboards - or the tick of her ceiling fan? You can't make heads or tails of the rest of the background noise. All those words she said.

You bite your tongue to stop whatever curse words start pouring out from the jumble and cross streets, or the pedestrian underpass; snow gets stuck in your lashes and burns, but your chest is like a molten furnace. You consider telling her right there on the line, everything you're feeling - so hot, it feels like fire, Hyeju, I'm not used to getting heated and desperate and impatient - that even if you're not here now - just imagining your face - the sound of your breathing, it feels like I'm on the cusp.

"Yeah. Sure - good - okay, Hyeju."

"I guess, see you soon?"

"In a bit."

(It takes 33 minutes, trudging through cold and wet. It's all very dramatic, you think, and there's no one there to even watch you suffer for it, or - though you try not to think about that particular line - really, no one at all.)

You hear the way your key grinds in the lock - it's been like this, jammed since summer, when you pushed the front door in late at night a little too hard and something came undone and made a sound like a small stone tumbling down the world's deepest well. The hinge squeaks, and there's ice on the stoop, on the doormat, on every nook and corner you can see, all the way up your neck.

And your face, too. You shake off your hat, undo the buttons on your jacket, and pull off your boots before hanging them and all the layers to dry.

You can make out the outline of her profile at the edge of the door frame, right in the kitchen - barefoot, hip pressed against the island, pajamas - the dim lights illuminating the shadow of her head, hair over her face -

- but you don't pause. The next layer. There's nothing left to say. You're too cold for excuses, too smart to use the same ones you'd been taught, like: this is a normal, acceptable circumstance; everything, anything, will be perfectly normal if the two of us act as though that's the case; pretend we're both acting within the norms of reason, within our senses and logical thinking and I won't make myself go out in the cold a second more - won't stand for more than five minutes with your eyes looking like they're waiting.

So you move instead toward the kitchen, where the heating is better and she's already pouring coffee. There's a heat radiating out of the oven, and it smells sweet in there, like cinnamon and warm butter, and you wish you weren't still shaking, blood barely thawed, but there it is - her face, watching you - eyes gleaming as you wrap your hands around a mug, steam rising up - a shiver running up your arms; her knees skirting yours when she takes one step back and there's the cabinet door shut, then open again, and then a palm on your back.

Hyeju presses a cup of the fresh coffee, now warm enough to drink, to your chest, and says, softly. "What the fuck happened out there?"

She starts reaching out to wipe the frost and slush from your face. You let her hand hold you still, eyes wide.

"Oh you know," and her palm stays, even though it's obviously - suddenly - gotten warmer, and wetter too, and the longer she stands there and lets her fingers warm the pale bones of your cheeks, her wrist, the base of your forehead and ears, the more expectant the look on her face grows. "The usual."

Her eyes go as narrow as they ever can. For just a moment. "You're gonna die a slow, pathetic death someday, just for the record."

"Don't forget how this starts," you try, and feel your neck go warm, throat and breath tight. And not even when her shoulders shift, her mouth going smug - just looking at you.

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone you actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

When Hyeju sighs and gives a long, nonchalant hum, leaning her body closer, pressing up until her waist hits the cabinet top and you're pressed together chest-to-chest, she looks at you and her hips settle, the heel of her foot reaching around your calf.

There's that tingle. Again and again. You're not even trying to not think about what it might mean.

But then, you start, silently and unconsciously, trying to answer the question: why don't you, maybe. Why don't you, actually - Hyeju kisses you, pulls on the loop of your jeans and lets your lips brush the corners of hers and pulls away, suddenly, mumbling and head-turning. And just as abruptly, your nose buries in the space between her neck and her shoulder, where it's all warm. And when she puts her palms on your hips and squeezes and twists her knuckles into the fabric there, it seems she wants your hands up her shirt and under the small of her back.

And her hands - they're fidgety tonight, fingers curled up to keep their nails and the chill away, moving lower - one on your ass, while the other comes forward and begins rubbing circles, a handful of times - enough so you're letting a deep, low breath escape into the space just above her collar, your knee working its way between hers.

"That," Hyeju breathes, lips at your ear, hand reaching down to trace the hard curve of your cock pressing in the spot right between you, and there's that small rush again, familiar now, like you've caught a rhythm and she wants to feel it in its fullness: "is how you can make it up to me. For making me stay up. Worrying about you, god knows why. Waiting."

You're still half-frozen in a way, slowly thawing. "Hyeju, I've been trudging through the consequences of my actions this entire night. What am I about to suffer through now?"

"It's no consequence, honestly."

You squint.

"Just an idea, but," she breathes again; your bodies getting closer, and looking up at you, she grins and reaches down to touch the very root of you, her fingers drumming. You make a sound, and at that she says, her voice coming out thick, low:

"Want me to get you off?"

She squeezes again for good measure, just to be clear. Just a slight curl of fingers that's enough to send a flash of heat and the transient thought: why, why, why is she always wearing those fucking shorts, even in the winter?

Your blood thrums through the pulse at the end of your cock. You shake.

"Alright," is the response you let out.

And at that, Hyeju takes your wrist and leads you upstairs.

"There's that look. Don't worry. We'll find a way," is all she says as your feet walk forward, up step-by-step and higher and further up to her room. "After all, isn't that what we've always done?"

"It's usually whatever will make me stop talking."

Hyeju puts her chin on your shoulder. Her eyes follow the lines and shapes in the patterns of wallpaper as you turn onto her side of the apartment, and even through the wall and behind the doorway, her arm still around you, she pulls at your chin until your faces turn and you both can share each other's heat.

"Who, you and your awful habit of talking out-loud in your head while you work through equations?" and she brings her lips to yours, close and warm.

"Hey. Fuck you," and your voice breaks into an odd, low laughter when she kisses you harder.

"Yeah, I know," she whispers as her hand dives past the band of your boxers, palm sliding easily until she's gripping you fully and letting her fingers rub. She holds you there, in her room, her arm looped through yours, another arm resting at your belly.

And she stops there. She stays like that: holding your gaze.

"Look, Hyeju," you say, unable to not, though this can hardly count for anything; this, what you're about to admit, is nothing new. You swallow. "The thing is - you shouldn't."

"Don't want me to touch you?" she says, finger to your lips.

"Well, that's different. Maybe. Is there - maybe it's not the best thing to ask you right now."

Hyeju considers for a brief moment and tuts under her breath. "Can you at least do me the decency of waiting until I'm done wringing you dry before you say shit like that."

And she moves then, toward the bed.

So:

No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows, you tell yourself. Maybe, but only because you'll do anything if it makes you feel less sick, like a creature standing over its own skeleton - an abandoned shell; a relic, something to be feared and disgusted, as you let her go between your thighs, kneel beside the bed.

"I mean - since when - have you felt," is just as far as you're allowed to go before Hyeju presses her nose into you and pulls you out of the thin, cold fabric - palm, thumb, all those slender fingers swiping over your head - and now there's just the smell of her room and the shock, the buzz that runs down your spine and settles somewhere, somewhere inside the small and desperate movement of your hips and the tension building just below.

And god, fuck, Hyeju’s lips.

These soft, wet, pouty fucking things that could suck you straight off if you were feeling any less stupid or inexperienced or sentimental - if she wasn't solely intent on teasing it out of you first; a slow drag of the tongue up the underside; the tip of it poking, tracing the rim, like she's figured you out, just where to lead you. She's ready to smoke you out - always - until you're not taking in a breath every ten seconds but starting to close your eyes to the overwhelming, needling pleasure, too sharp, the way she knows you like best.

"Now you're finally - mm - starting to sound hot," and that smirk comes back to the corner of her mouth, teasing the sensitive belly of your cock and tracing her tongue everywhere. "With the voice and -"

You're losing track, her thumb and fingers circling the whole length of you - just, one after the other - mouth a hair-breadth away, her breath hovering like a promise.

"- that face."

"Don't, fucking tease me-"

The sound of your cock going in is like nothing else.

Wet and filthy in all the right ways.

Just the suction in her throat has your eyes nearly roll back into your head - Hyeju's gaze calmly watching the terrible sort of helplessness that washes over you like this: her lips wrapped around, bobbing - her hair falling into the wet mess of her mouth and sticking there. Hyeju likes being a little sloppy, likes feeling that spark run up the length of her tongue when she slides. It's the wet and the heat that gives everything away.

"I don't have much of a choice -" her jaw and chin is smudged when she pulls back off of your cock, mouth glossy and glistening, "and honestly, wouldn't it be a better use of our time, or my talents if I actually do that thing?"

“Which is?”

She looks up for a bit and sighs, the flush blooming pink to the tip of her ears and into the rounds of her cheeks and all across her neck. "Since, as far as I can see, what you really like - is, oh I'm just spit-balling here," and she stops just to bite her tongue and look into your eyes, "it's letting the girls take care of you? Isn't that right?"

You want to tell her, no, not always, that it's not as though you enjoy giving control completely - that that would be completely and unarguably, the opposite of true -

That most of the time you love it when the person you're with is a little bossy, a little crazy for you. You know some guys really get off on a strong woman and maybe, maybe if a girl's pretty and dressed up, and - sure - a little wet, but that's hardly -

“You know I’m right,” she says, a flicker of mischief skittering across her features. “These walls are paper thin.”

You want to tell her, perhaps remind her, that she likes someone in charge just as much as you do - to be taken care of, told what to do - to have a hand curled up around her throat and the other at her tits while a guy fucks her the right way and takes the reigns when she needs. So who are you, when it comes to knowing her better? And who, really, are you fooling?

But before you can get any words in: Hyeju dips, lips parting where the head of your cock throbs, and then disappears; and the hot wet warmth, enveloping all around your shaft and back; the curve of her throat contracting.

You moan - a lot, and louder this time - into the whole feeling. The way her fingers work the distance from the base, twisting and twisting and twisting into the pout of her lips; or how the sound is like nothing - a whimpering, messy sound - almost a whine and definitely not a slurp as your cock sinks further and further, until it's all one big, heavy throb.

And it's like Hyeju can read your thoughts, the visual you have of her lips screwed tight around your shaft - cum leaking from the corners, and her eyes scrunched up tight, as she looks up to watch your face unravel - this perfect image of her taking you, all of you, swallowing each drop as your hips start rutting up into her and - and - and.

Or else she gets impatient, because then Hyeju gives one long pull off the tip of your cock - saliva mixed in the precum there, and that shiny string of fluid hanging, caught in the middle between your bodies - a disgusting and irresistible sight. Her jaw slack, lips swollen and full, and her mouth gone wide open, wanting.

"Fuck - that's good. Don't stop," you start to whimper, desperate, at the sight, the smell. Her hot breath coming quick over the red wanting wetness left behind - then touched by the cold air - fuck -

She slaps your cock to the corner of her lips as she speaks.

"Can you believe what's going on down here?"

"God, can you -"

"And to think most guys wanna jump straight in. That or fuck a load out between my tits."

"Hyeju, shit, come on -"

She kisses the soft tip, right where it’s most sensitive, rolls it along her lip. Then, back down the length of your shaft where she's generous with her mouth inch after inch - lapping, licking, laving - and Hyeju begins working her way down and downward, nestling in at the edge of the bed and between your thighs.

Your eyes blow up the first time she dips low enough to put your balls in her mouth.

“Mmhm,” she hums.

It’s killing you and she knows it; it’s killing you and she can feel the pre-cum leaking from your slit - the thumb she has moored there, keeping everything right where she wants it, running circles up the length with such little intention - she could bring you to the end just like this.

"Am I supposed to believe it?” she asks out from beneath the shadow of your cock, looking up at you with her eyes all wide and brilliant - pupils dark as sin. “That not a single one of those girls ever did you proper?"

You curse under your breath. Hyeju seems amused, at least, like she can't help but love doing that to you, which is almost worse and honestly the sexiest thing a girl can be. You groan - wanton, raw and desperate and feeling exactly what she wants you to feel when her nails drag along the dip of your hip bones.

"Did they not leave you fucked-up the right way?"

Her wrist flicks out these twists and turns, making your spine bend to her control. Like even when you're sure to be bundling her hair in your fingers and fucking the whole length of your cock down her throat, all of this is the worst kind of power-trip for her - not the other way around.

Her tongue runs through the tangle of your balls, slowly, lasciviously, as though the plan is to memorize and map every detail.

And the worst part is, how much it's making you desperate for the warmth of her mouth - where she'll run her tongue up and down and over and around and inside - before sucking you off nice and slow.

"Or maybe," she laughs; another flick to the top and then suddenly her hand goes faster and the fist pumping the rest of you tightens. "They left you so needy you're resorting to having the bestie suck you off so that you won't be desperate the next time you date. Oh my god-"

Hyeju breaks into this fit of laughter, and you're nearly cross-eyed at the feeling of your entire existence - not just your cock - so wholly held within her mercy, and her pity, and you're breathing so shallow now you'd think this is the real reason people have died and will die - this exact moment where you're choking and stuttering at the edges, so very close to cumming and going absolutely bonkers with how good Hyeju is with her hands, her tongue, her mouth - everything - how much she's wrecking you, and your jaw drops, wide open, her name dripping like molasses off your lower lip.

"Are you going to cum?" she asks, curiously. All as if she can't see you nodding, collapsing under pressure, and then and there: "should we make it official?"

Her nose tickles the seam of your balls. And your toes begin to curl and uncurl - all this anticipatory, coiling pleasure burning from her throat, shooting from the pit of your stomach; the tightening spiral, twinging and stretching every nerve - as her lips enclose around the end of your cock, softly.

And oh, just excruciatingly slowly.

You watch the irresistible shape of her mouth travel down until her throat feels so incredibly, beautifully, and unbelievably tight, and then, just like that - Hyeju starts fucking herself onto you; pushing forward and down the full, rigid length of you, hard and fast - each time hitting deeper inside her - all that sticky, messy, wet squelching.

"Unh-unh, yeah. Unh. Mm-!" you say, or moan, or some animal version of that, maybe, it’s incoherent.

But regardless:

It's messy and your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets of her bed when you feel that snap, the tightening of a trigger; when your balls roll up and it builds, and builds, and it comes faster - harder and -

"Hyeju," you pant, and it sounds so, so filthy. "I'm gonna cum, if you - gonna cum-"

Hyeju pulls you free from her lips, quite possibly at the most final of final moments, to rub the base up and down, just right, between her fingers. Your cock is resting right on her cheek when it all happens. When she squeezes her fingers around your balls just enough to hear you wheeze and make a sound no sane man should have the right to. And fuck, you're cumming all over her face - or just one side of it - which is already just -

Okay, fuck.

She makes a startled sound and her fist closes tightly around your shaft when you pump another fresh load of white up onto her eyebrow.

"I'm, ah-shit," your mouth moves faster than the blood in your veins - and now the shame - oh god, the humiliation, it's pulsing right behind you. "Hyeju," you apologize.

Only, Hyeju has no interest in any of it. She doesn't seem offended or disappointed in proportion to how you're ruining her pretty face: "no, just do it, cum wherever you fucking like."

Which isn't what you're expecting at all, because Hyeju makes no effort to close her lips, let alone avoid any of it; nor is she making a fuss about the sticky mess in her hair, her mouth, nor as another stream of cum throbs from your cock, all tangled up in the long dark eyelashes that sweep down across her cheek.

It’s fucking filthy: you're cumming all over her and she's just kneeling there, telling you, "good boy."

See, she pushes through it, languidly - all those filthy sounds, and those watery little tears gathering at the edge of her eye and all of that, mixing up together until you're rolling your head back with your orgasm, shuddering, feeling weak - drained dry -

Except,

Hyeju's pushing a finger to your chest, kneeling up tall from the side of the bed. She turns her body toward the center of the bed and wipes a bit of the cum on her knuckles into the sheets. Here you feel like you've done something terrible or at least regrettable, like that last round at the bar when you have a test the next morning; a dick move, all of the sort that requires apology.

"You gotta give me a minute, if you're thinking about hopping on."

"Hmm. Sounds like a lot to ask."

"Wait," you grab her arm. Hyeju grins and there's nothing stopping the shake of your knees now, that weakness between your thighs: "let me get you a drink."

"Or."

"Or?"

Her tongue peeks out, running along her upper lip. Her eyes drop again, hands dipping below, beneath the hem of her shorts and oh. She slips a hand past her bra. The whole outline of it. And you -

"Mm, I could show you what that actually means." She lowers her chest, her breasts, and a lot of skin to the mattress while keeping your cock firmly in her hands. "That look tells me you wanna stick around a bit. Stay up past New Year’s, you know?"

You're almost unable to parse her words, there is so much to look at: the jutting curve of her chest, cleavage pressing into the mattress as her body settles between your knees. A soft chuckle; a sigh: "you are seriously the best lay, no-one else can get hard the minute after they just fucking exploded all over me-"

"Fuck, watch it," you hiss, because there's oversensitivity - and then there's Hyeju's mouth on the line of your cock, polishing you clean.

And it’s not that she isn’t trying to prove a point. Or that she's not trying to tease - that's an inherent quality of her character: a naturally dominant position with a high appetite for your lust. That much, Hyeju gets from you, whether you've got your head down between her thighs or the other way, too, so that her neck is arched around and her ass pushed up high in the air, legs open, and if she had any idea you would spend the next twenty minutes or more just going down on her, licking into her creaming cunt while two fingers work over her aching clit, then really, Hyeju would only encourage it - maybe get on top, force you to gag - and so you don't know where it comes from - how and why you want nothing more than to drive your fingers inside her and work her until she's a wet, squelching mess, not when this was always Hyeju's role of being the aggressor; and yes, sure, even the aggressed.

Surely not because you came so hard, still somewhat shivering with the remnants of a rather abrupt, painful, sudden and all-consuming orgasm.

"We're not doing anything else," she says, lips pulled up into a smirk right at the crown of your cockhead. But before you can respond she pushes a hot open kiss, and goes lower. She presses the flat of her tongue to the seam, just below the head. Licks a line right up to the tip and finishes with a tender flick that sends you fisting the bedspread in your fingers and leaning back as your mind begins to disintegrate -

"I'm not going to ride you yet, or going to get my hips in your hands so you can fuck my pussy real hard until I cry and pass out. Nothing of that sort is gonna happen." She licks one long drag of her tongue. Then, the other way. "I want to make this very clear: this isn't some huge favor - and if you want it - want it so bad, you can stay there and I'm going to do everything for you. We will get there - together," and with her voice shaking as she brings the wet, glistening skin of your cock just inside her mouth, she looks up. "We'll get each other off, just like this," and it's the deep, dark, throated moan that makes your thighs and all the nerves in between stiffen and buck when she swallows you again.

Hyeju's hands tug, pull her whole body closer still as it slowly bends, curves - her ass raised, her stomach lying on the bed. Her mouth takes you another few inches, until the tip of her nose is barely visible, but when she pauses to lick the cum still left over - the cum that's starting to leak out again - to breathe through it, then squeeze her palm and bob her mouth down, take another inch, until the sides are stuffed and emptying out again, that's when she finally has something to say: "got anything left? I'm a little starved."

"I. Christ, yes-" you whine, which doesn't help your case at all: the image, the image of you lying flat - back with Hyeju's head tucked between your knees, her hand pulling out your cock.

Sloppy, slimy-wet.

She presses an innocent, not-at-all-innocent kiss right to your tip, puckering -

"You know what I did learn in that genetics class?" she muses, tongue flicking over her lips. Hyeju's about ready for a second helping - you're losing it. "When I first saw that DNA diagram - the double helix and all those little base pairs, and everything - it made me think of your cock. Your cock and me. Specifically our DNA. Did you know-"

She presses her palm over the head and rolls it - teases and strokes her palm - her knuckles - her fist - the whole nine. "When I hold your big fucking cock, mm, and just get it right - up in here, rubbing all along my walls - so deep, it gets me in my fucking ribs, makes me choke like I never been choked before, ah-mm," and it's this thought sliding toward the front of your mind, this perfect picture: Hyeju, getting fucked hard and open and stuffed full and stuffed good and stupid; you’ve got more than a few inches on her, can make her feel small and delicate; you know how to do her right.

But here you have Hyeju stroking the shaft - holding her hand tightly up near the head, rolling and twisting and sliding down and pushing her whole body right into the side of your legs: the soft, solid length, warm flesh and curves everywhere pressing into you.

You sit back, and just watch Hyeju with her eyes cool and composed, like half of her fucking face isn't streaked with your cum, mouth wrapped and looking fucking satisfied to be a total, gorgeous mess. She makes a dramatic display of kissing the tip again, just before telling you words you probably dreamt up at some point - either sleep deprived, or, during three AM jackoff, fantasizing. "Sometimes, just from riding your cock, I can't sit up straight."

"Fuck," and you feel your whole body run rigid, because apparently that's something you’ve been aching to hear.

You're covering her mouth again. White streaking onto her lips - where she's catching it in the well beneath her tongue and letting it spill out of the corner of her mouth. Into the crook of your thumb, which catches a drip here and there and rubs it down the length - down the curve - and pushes it back between Hyeju's pert little pout.

"Doesn't count, mister, just more pre-cum," she says, all with the audacity of a wink and smile; her words are a little garbled around the head of your cock between her teeth. And when you nod and realize just how painfully your jaw hurts, your throat becomes tight and raw, a knot pulling the underside from the center. Hyeju slides her lips lower, lower down, to the hilt and stays there, just like that - one hand holding down the flat of your belly to keep your hips still, her chin hanging - bobbing-as she feels every pulse, every twitching shift. You curl one hand around the side of her face, over the sharp edge of her jaw; rub a thumb into the delicate skin of her throat.

She shifts. You start to tell her what you like: how hot the rush comes when a girl puts her tongue against the slit at the very tip, and licks at the precum in nice, quick circles, soft and fluttering. And how her fingers shouldn't hesitate either, Hyeju's not even struggling to give it to you - god - just giving and -

She jerks her head up, swallowing down her next breath like it's one of her last. "I'm serious, if you're going to fuck a hole, start with my mouth - we can move onto everything else after."

"You're ridiculous -"

She meets her lips to your head, kissing once. Again. Kissing every inch, letting her mouth wrap around and then just - staying, just - staying like that and humming, with you, enjoying the fullness, the smell of you, the taste, the shape, just the weight and size and you.

There is spit fucking everywhere.

And if it's not clear what you're supposed to be doing - her fingers weave through yours, squeezing hard at the wrist and you can imagine: pulling her forward by her hair and holding her down while she chokes on your cock. "Fuck, Hyeju," you say, and your voice comes out way shakier than you'd like, "when, how did it get like this, huh? You always - always did, shit, always want your mouth filled."

"Never figured you to be someone who'd get turned on watching their friend sucking their cock like this."

"Doesn't everybody love the sight of their cock in a pretty girl's mouth?

"You were really convinced they weren't lining up behind you? Or anyone in the queue who can't keep their eyes off of this thing. Tell me, and try not to lie, try not to bullshit this one out: how many girls have you come home and fucked and creamed their brains out - then asked for the sloppiest, most -"

"Honestly."

"- Filthiest, nasty, ball-busting, gut-wrenching blowjob ever to make them think - to make them really start wondering what the hell it was you did - like it's gotta be something that leaves them so ruined, they can't ever not compare - can't ever not compare this moment, right here. Ever. When you give them the hardest fucking of their life, compared to any other guy - can't not, because no-one, literally no-one's cock can fuck like you do-"

"Fuck-"

"Any harder. Come on, seriously, tell me it isn't true. Come on."

Her voice - her fucking words, the tone she uses and how her words roll: honey-warm and soaking with sweet, thick degradation - she talks like sex, and that's exactly what gets you harder, like it’s something else; like it’s nothing, like it’s less, so much worse - you feel this guilty-dirty heat pool at your tailbone and push down the hard press of you throbbing all the way to her nose. And Hyeju smiles as much as she's capable around the fat, round stretch, humming around the warm taste of you, before opening wide and sinking her throat on it.

There's nothing like it.

You've got two fists in her hair; she's so tight and wet around every god-damn inch. Her cheeks flush - hot to the touch; her tongue laving in slow, long drags, slicking your shaft nice and warm until you're balls-deep and pushing her further: a small shift to the hips, a push here, a harder, faster pull, and Hyeju's feet behind her go curling like an angry cat, wanting the tug.

A long, satisfied breath slips from the hollows of her throat.

There are tears threatening, thickening her lashes, and though she doesn't choke - you're just afraid. Every sound that she pulls out, her eyes blinking up to you as if it's only natural to love getting used by her friend's cock, like the very premise of it - swallowing down the very shape of you, dragged over her tongue and brushing cum into the back of her throat - is something she can’t go without.

But this is nothing compared to the noises from where her lips are pressed tight around you, where you're hearing and even feeling:

That gluck, gluck - where her chest spasms just the slightest when her nose gets nuzzled right into your belly and you remember how much she likes to hear you talk dirty, how fucking wet it gets her. The heavy, deep breaths, gasps; the strangled moans when your hips just buck - the heat and the thrill, and this is better than every other time because there's just something in this moment -

"I'm not gonna come again, not like this. Not in your mouth. You can’t-"

But Hyeju refuses to hear a word; just pumps your shaft faster, feeling it's familiar hardness grow and throb and ache and retch, all her effort paying off: you're slick with precum and spit, hard and straining, the whole shaft begging for release - all because of her. And Hyeju won't stop, she pushes her cheek onto your thigh and then taps a hand there to pull your hips. The motion drives your cock further still inside her. Until it’s bathed in her spit, your cum, all this mess.

Until it's reaching, choking her, and the muffled sounds she's making are filthy and wet and so incredulously hot.

But god. Hyeju has something of a temper and a habit, too: with those big beautiful eyes and the perfect plump of her pouting lips, her tits swelling up around, when your grip slips on her shoulder, and her mouth goes tighter - how the pleasure begins to make you unbearably cruel and you push her away from you, only for a second -

She doesn't wait or seem to care; Hyeju follows the cock with her whole head and whimpers so hotly in her throat when it plops right back on her tongue. "That's more - more like - fuck, oh, there we go," her nose and fingers prodding.

You groan through a high, strangled whimper, a helpless shiver that turns into an uncontrollable roll of the hips - you can't believe it: she's already so thoroughly debauched and defaced; just fucking painted with it. Your cum dripping off her chin and rolling down her neck.

"Fuck - gonna make me - ah, Jesus -"

When Hyeju seems to have reached her fill, the feeling, you're cumming - pumping the length of your shaft. And the moment she feels you twitch and throb and that first hot spill lands in the bend of her mouth, it's as if she understands and holds herself tight - her legs going stock-still while your eyes blow up behind her, your cock spewing another and then another thick, milky load into her mouth, over her tongue: all along the topography of her throat - sticky cum landing in every ridge and valley -

Hyeju catches as much as she can. What little she can. You cum and pump and gush so much that when you're finally finished - done - every last drop spent and given - your cock throbs soft between her fingers; her chin is a complete and utter mess and her chest heaves with the sound of her catching her own breath. Hyeju groans softly and just swishes the load around in her mouth for a bit as if wanting to remember its feel and weight before lifting her eyes to look into yours. You can just barely see the color.

"Jesus, Hyeju-"

The entire bit of it, slick and shining-wet. With a small moan, a sound from the back of her throat: one swallow and the cum is gone, disappeared, vanished. She smiles like she didn't just ruin your entire goddamn life and, with her body limp and exhausted beside you - her gentle hand rubbing a flat stroke over your thigh before yours slips up to meet her chin.

"You," you curse and roll your eyes, catching the mess at the edge of her jaw, the very little left in the corners of her lips. You feed the cum over her bottom lip - her chin, her throat - watching your friend: Hyeju's throat, bobbing. "Really didn't have to," you start, but you realize just how useless a point it is to make.

She's smiling and biting and showing you what's left between the tips of her canines. "Do you always do this to the people who suck you off?"

"That's an awful habit. A pretty girl's lips aren't meant to get that messy," you reply.

"Oh." She frowns. "Well, I do a lot of things I shouldn't."

"God, seriously," and you think there's no greater hell, no sweeter pain than whatever's lingering in these little aftershocks - this fizzling and dying sort of pain, where the body is buzzed with all you're aching for. It's impossible to stop this train of thoughts, is the fucking feeling of her-

But just then, Hyeju rises to her knees, a new spark in her eyes, as she grabs ahold of your wrist and tugs you off the sheets, a few inches closer.

"And you," she purrs as she drags the palm of your hand across her neck and collarbone, collecting what remains and making the perfect image, "well - you are going to help clean me up, like you said before." She sits tall; the arch of her spine is pronounced - her back, so, very, slightly tapering, to where your hand slips right off the last of it: the wide flare of her hips. "Now isn't that the gentleman's thing to do?" she asks.

"Of course." You sigh, resigned and in desperate need of water. "Of course," you add and smirk a little and slip your hand lower, toward where her skin is getting hot, and her body, "let's get you clean."

"Mm." She's already grinning. "You know what wasn't in those textbooks?"

"Oh, I can only guess." You bite your cheek and start to lower yourself back. "Give it a try."

Hyeju drags you by the wrist toward the hall, the bathroom, ostensibly the shower -

"There's no way in hell you don't want to put a baby in me, like, right fucking now."

"Is that what we're doing?"

Hyeju makes a face like you're stupid - she might've grabbed a towel on the way out. She wipes her chin a little while walking - the corner of her mouth where, well - where it looks like a little dribble has somehow remained. "No. But you’re going to fuck me like it is."

(There's got so much on her mind.

The door of the shower rattling in its frame as she struggles standing up against it. Getting fucked so fast and full, the feeling of both your hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts. It's not the fact of where you are and your situation, per say - more about the immediate, the imperative nature. About fucking you. She was already feeling herself like, leaking the moment the door shut, so all that waiting, all that patience, really - and it's what drove her insane when you were, well: like that, after she put her mouth around your cock, made a right and proper mess of herself, and sucked you off.

Though there's less on her mind, clearly, when she cums all over your cock.

She's crying with her tits up onto the glass, your palm holding her ribs. Your cum-slick cock working itself hard again as it slips, back and forth, as you're fucking her open, spread apart. It's your finger in her asshole. That's what's on her mind then. How the press of your knuckle lights her entire fucking spine on fire - how the other hand finds her clit in all this, too, when you're no longer supporting the both of you but rather Hyeju is folding on her bent knee and trusting, on shaking and shivering, raw nerves, that you're not going to collapse.

"Fucking. God, please-"

There's the harsh slap of flesh - skin on wet skin, your palms against the sides of her ass and the curve of the breast. But otherwise - it's you, sighing - soft and gentle, like you can't get over the feel of her. "Hyeju, oh-fucking, god, fucking," is what you're saying, and it doesn't end up really mattering which one of you came last because she can feel you twitching, squelching in and out with how badly you're wanting to explode inside, but also you can feel her cunt absolutely begging, this fucking fluttering and clamping down on every thrust and the moment you manage to grind this angle she loses her ability to speak properly because you're not just, like - fucking her-

Just, absolutely, completely pounding her pussy, stretching her insides, dragging and sliding along the walls; each rough rub and thrust makes her knees quiver until her body is trembling and falling. But mostly her voice, the sharp gasp that shakes into her, how her nails are scraping the walls of the shower stall and she's saying - telling, crying and asking and wondering and pleading - just utterly astounded:

"Amazing," she huffs, breathes coming out cloudy and true onto the pane of glass, "you - it’s, fucking amazing.")

“And I am… Ironman.”

Your eyes flicker awake, hazy, as Tony Stark snaps his fingers, killing himself alongside Thanos’ army in the process.

The TV's long been running on background noise, though not as ambient. Its characters now bickering between the rubble and ruins and being picked up for the end credits. In the dark of the screen, you see Hyeju had nodded off and slumped over the side of your body. A new year means new beginning means resolutions and diets and gym routines -

Maybe no sooner than the sun can come up, apparently.

You lean over to grab your phone from the table: 4:14 A.M.

There's a lot of things you want to say, even more you want to hear, but your mind has begun to settle a bit - a lazy and dreamy thing that fills you with this sort of, tired kind of - not sad, or empty - no, of course not. That's hardly fitting; not after tonight. You want to wrap this in an idealistic sort of sentiment - maybe hold Hyeju close and let the hour carry you and the comfort be enough to forgive whatever there is to miss: like the fact, it's still really dark, so dark even outside. The moon reflecting off the sheet of snow on the street. And not even a distant dog barking, or car driving by or someone playing loud music in the early hours of the new year.

As the film drifts off into another set of commercials, you slip into an easy sleep that feels effortless. Your head drops, landing on the cushion by the arm of the couch, where Hyeju's hand begins to slip mindlessly across your belly, tickling your waist and causing you to slightly squirm - things are cooling down, but still a little agitated.

"Don't tell me you're waking me up, cause I just -"

She kisses the pulse at your throat and answers, mumbling half-words into the spot below your ear. "A kiss for a new year."

And maybe the world doesn't owe you anything at all.

Maybe it just gave you more than enough.

#hyeju smut #loona smut #loona hyeju smut #loossemble smut #loossemble hyeju smut #olivia hye smut #loona olivia hye smut #kpop smut #male reader #capslocked kinkvember

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unclewaynemunson · 8 months

Text

Pt2 of the badly kept secrets of Eddie's heart monitor

After the first two weeks, Steve seems to have suddenly decided to stop visiting Eddie. No explanation, no goodbye: one day he's there, and then he... Isn't. It takes a few days, sometimes, Steve has a life of his own after all, but a whole week goes by with nothing. And another one. Eddie only knows he's alive – and in town – because the others told him when he asked. Maybe Steve's gotten tired of being surrounded by all that hospital sterility. Or maybe he's gotten tired of being around Eddie. Or maybe... Eddie groans and takes up a stare-down with the fucking heart monitor that's still attached to him at all times, his biggest enemy.

Unfortunately, he has way too much time on his hands, alone in this room and unable to do anything but lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. It makes it far too easy to let his thoughts spiral. Maybe – no, probably, certainly, undoubtedly – that goddamn heart monitor was the ideal help for Steve to decipher Eddie's biggest secret without any difficulties.

Yes, that must be the reason why Steve is staying away. Sure, the guy could tolerate being around “the freak” for a few hours a week out of pity, but of course he wouldn't want anything to do with him anymore upon finding out exactly what kind of freaky thoughts he really has about Steve. Steve was polite enough to pretend like he didn't notice the heart monitor speeding up every single time he got in Eddie's proximity, but of course, of course he noticed. He noticed and now he hates Eddie.

And honestly? He has every right to hate Eddie, with the way Eddie has been exploiting every opportunity to get Steve to touch him. Even though he'd regret it right away whenever the heart monitor couldn't shut the fuck up, Eddie never learned from his mistakes. He was even stupid enough to find meaning in the way Steve's touch would linger after helping him lie down or sit up, stupid enough to find tenderness in the way Steve held his arms when helping him out of his bed and to the bathroom. Obviously, Steve never wanted any of that. Obviously, that only made Steve uncomfortable, but the poor guy was too polite to lash out to the dude chained to a hospital bed healing from having all his organs chewed inside out.

Eddie sighs and closes his eyes; not because he wants to sleep, but because the staring contest with the heart monitor isn't really getting him anywhere. Maybe it's for the best that Steve is staying away. That way, Eddie might be able to get over him more easily. He doesn't deserve Steve's friendship anyway.

***

“I wanna visit Eddie today.”

“Alright, have fun,” Steve answers. “Tell him I said hi.”

Robin sighs dramatically. “No, dingus, you're coming with me. I need a ride.”

“No!” It comes out of his mouth a little too quick, a little too loud, and Robin raises her eyebrows at him.

“No, I can't,” he explains in a calmer voice.

Robin raises her eyebrows even further, making them disappear beneath her bangs altogether. “You literally just told me you don't have plans after work.”

“Yeah, but...” He lets his voice fade out and settles on muttering something incomprehensible.

“I did not understand one single word of what you were saying,” Robin points out. She sounds annoyed, but there's a vaguely amused smile playing around her lips, betraying how she really feels about the whole thing. “Seriously, what's up with you and Eddie? Did you have a fight or something?”

“No...”

“Until two weeks ago, you were at the hospital basically every spare minute of your time. You even canceled two dates just so you could spend more time with Eddie! And now, all of a sudden, you'd rather spend your evening on your own at home watching TV than visit your friend?”

“He's not my friend,” Steve protests.

She gives him a punch against his shoulder.

“Okay, I'm pretty sure he hates me, Rob.” Steve finally caves in. “He gets, like, very uncomfortable whenever I'm around. And I don't wanna add to his discomfort any more than necessary, so it's better I stay away from him.”

“Well, I don't know what on earth gave you that idea, but that is by far the biggest load of bullcrap I heard all week,” Robin says matter-of-factly. “He's asked about you every single time I visited him. He'll be happy to see you, dingus, you're coming with me today. No excuses.”

***

Like clockwork, the steady beeping of the heart monitor falters as soon as Eddie locks eyes with Steve. To make things even worse, what little color that is on Eddie's cheeks leaves his face immediately.

Despite the paleness of Eddie's face, Steve can't help but notice how good he looks in comparison to when he last saw him two weeks ago. He's sitting straight up, leaning against a pillow, and the look in his eyes is far from drowsy.

“S-Steve,” Eddie stutters out. “Hi.” He clears his throat. “And – and Robin, of course, hi! Good to see ya, Buck.” He stretches out his arms to embrace her, and Steve awkwardly comes up behind her. It feels weird not to follow Robin's example and give him a hug, but when he bows over the bed and wraps his arms around Eddie, the beeping immediately picks up speed again. To make things even worse, Eddie quite literally recoils from his touch, leaning away as far as possible and letting his arms hover in the air around Steve more than actually hugging him back.

When Steve looks at Robin, he notices that her eyes have grown about twice their normal size while they flash back and forth between Eddie, the machines around his bed, and Steve.

He locks eyes with her and tries to silently convey a See, I told you so about Eddie resenting him. She answers with a barely visible nod and relief fills Steve's chest. He's lucky to have Robin right by his side, his best friend, the one person he can always count on understanding him. She'll get them out of here in no time and leave Eddie in peace and –

“Oh shoot, sorry, I forgot I need to get a, um, a thing from the car,” Robin says. “I'll be right back.”

As she stumbles out of the room, Steve wants to scream at her that that was very much the opposite of what he wanted her to do, but she disappears before he can do anything about it, only leaving an awkward silence in her wake. So Steve has no choice but to turn back to Eddie and take his familiar place in the chair beside his bed.

“I kinda didn't expect to see you anymore.” Eddie is the one to break the silence. He sounds more distant than the last time Steve saw him. It must be worse than Steve thought: Eddie had been happy to be rid of him and now here he is again, after a meager two weeks of peace.

“Sorry,” Steve mumbles. “She insisted I come with her.”

“So you didn't wanna come?”

Steve chuckles darkly at the irony in that question, not really knowing how to answer that.

“Alright, I'm just gonna say it,” says Eddie when it becomes clear that Steve doesn't quite know what to say. “You figured out what I – how I felt about you, didn't you? Cause of the heart thing.”

Steve looks away, stares intently at the ugly dark blue linoleum carpet under his feet.

“Yeah,” he quietly confesses. There's no use denying it now, he figures.

Eddie heaves out a long sigh.

“For what it's worth: I'm really sorry, Steve, I didn't mean to make you-”

“It's fine,” Steve quickly interrupts him. He doesn't think he could bear Eddie's pity right now. “Don't worry about it. I just wanted to give you some space, y'know, get outta your hair for a bit. I didn't want to make this any more painful for you than it has to be.”

“Really?”

The heart monitor stutters again and Eddie's voice sounds weirdly strained. Steve can't help but look up. He's met with big brown eyes that are looking at him like Eddie actually cares about him. For a moment, Steve imagines to see tears, but then Eddie blinks and the illusion is gone.

“I um... I appreciate that, man,” Eddie says.

Another awkward silence dawns over the room.

“Wait,” Eddie says after a few seconds. “So you're not angry?”

“No!” Steve immediately replies – and it's true. He understands why Eddie doesn't like being around him, that too much has happened in the past for them to just move on and hold hands or some shit.

“It's not your fault,” he tells Eddie. He looks away again, back to the floor in front of his sneakers. “If it's anyone's fault, it's mine, right?”

Eddie huffs out a sound of disbelief. “Why, cause you're just too damn sexy, Harrington?”

Steve frowns. “Well, no, cause I was an asshole and I was mean to your friends during all of high school and it's stupid of me to expect you to just get over that shit and-”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

There's that stutter in the heart monitor again. It makes Steve wonder if he's putting Eddie's health at risk by simply existing next to him. Maybe it would be better to leave Eddie alone and wait in the car until Robin is done with her visit. What the hell is taking her so long anyway?

He keeps his eyes stubbornly focused on the blue floor. “Isn't that why you got so uncomfortable having me around?” he points out. “Look, I get it, man. I was an asshole, it's true. And it was selfish of me to keep showing up here only because you were too polite to say to my face what you thought about me. I was only thinking about myself and about how much I liked being here with you, it wasn't fair.”

All of a sudden, the soft touch of a hand lands on his shoulder. He hates how that makes his own heart speed up. If he were the one attached to a heart monitor, Eddie would've seen right through him in an instant, that's for sure.

He looks up and meets Eddie's wide-eyed, somewhat shocked face.

“You - you thought you were making me uncomfortable?” Eddie asks him, sounding like he's completely gobsmacked.

Steve frowns. “Isn't that what we've been talking about for the past five minutes?”

“Steve,” Eddie says. “I am so sorry. I didn't – I never – Look. Listen.” He removes his hand from Steve's shoulder and roughly wipes it over his face. His heart monitor accelerates even further. “Please don't hate me for what I'm about to tell you, okay?” He doesn't wait for a reaction, only uses his pause to take a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again and looking right into Steve's.

“I'm gay, Steve. And that evil computer over there-” He points towards the heart monitor, “-keeps betraying my big, fat, gay crush on you. Every time you walk in here, or read my book to me, or do so much as smile at me, I just – God, I'm such a goner for you and there was no hiding it because of that stupid fucking thing.”

This time, Steve is quite sure he is not at all imagining the tears in Eddie's eyes.

“I thought that's why you stopped visiting. Cause you figured out how gay I am – about you – and you didn't want anything to do with that. With me. Being gay. For you.”

Eddie swallows. He lifts a hand and pulls a strand of hair over his face in a poor attempt to hide the truly terrified expression that's all over his features.

“Jesus, Eddie,” Steve breathes out. He can't even begin to comprehend how spectacularly wrong he has been about everything. It's almost like he's in shock. Only a minute ago, he thought Eddie despised him. And now, he has to process the revelation that the guy in fact has had a crush on him – a “big, fat, gay crush” – all along. That the reason his heart was behaving so weirdly was because Steve's proximity made him lovesick. That he recoiled from Steve's touches out of fear that the monitor would give him away and make Steve realize he was gay and in love with him.

“Please say something?” It sounds like a question, small and so afraid of what is about to come.

“Eddie, I – Jesus. This is... A lot. To process,” Steve manages to choke out.

“I know,” Eddie says. “I'm sorry I made you think I hated you. But... Please don't hate me. I really missed you visiting. We can be friends, right? You won't even have to touch me ever again, we can just hang out like bros, and I'll try to get my feelings for you under control, and you can-”

Steve finally gains control over his body again: he leaps forward and presses his lips against Eddie's with slightly more force than he had meant to do.

A surprised yelp escapes from Eddie's mouth, and the beeping of the heart monitor goes even crazier. It makes Steve's own heart do a goddamn cartwheel, that audible proof of what he is making Eddie feel.

He completely understands why the heart monitor is going batshit crazy right now; everything about this is fucking amazing. One of his hands finds its way to Eddie's surprisingly soft hair, and he revels in the feeling of touching Eddie again and in the taste of Eddie's lips against his own, and maybe he should just climb into Eddie's bed to–

“Thank God for that.”

They quickly jump apart to find Robin standing in the doorway, an annoyingly smug grin on her face.

“You two could really not be more stupid if you tried, huh?”

Steve squints at her while his hand blindly finds Eddie's on top of the sheets and curls itself around it. He feels his cheeks heat up, but he doesn't care. Nothing matters anymore, except for Eddie's hand warmly resting in his own.

“Did you even need anything from the car at all?” he asks Robin, raising an eyebrow at her.

“No, of course not,” Robin scoffs. “Just needed you idiots to finally get your shit together. I don't think I've ever met anyone more dense than the two of you, seriously! There were at least three moments when I almost barged in here to just smash your faces tog-”

“You were eavesdropping on us?!”

“Obviously.”

Steve opens his mouth, indignant and ready to tell her exactly how mean and evil she is, but she merely raises a hand and the look in her eyes is terrifying enough to shut him up before he has even started speaking.

“Hey, listen,” she says. Something in her face softens. “I'm really happy for you guys. Seriously, no matter how stupid you are, you two deserve every bit of happiness in the world.” She takes a step backwards towards the door. “I'll go wait in the car, dingus. Go kiss each other some more.”

And before Steve or Eddie can say anything, she winks and closes the door behind her.

Taglist: @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @saramelaniemoon @lololol-1234 @carlajim98 @7-starboi @acedorerryn @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @zoeweee @resident-gay-bitch @my2amgaythoughts @didntwant2come @steveshairspray @noodle-shenaniganery @thedragonsaunt @finntheehumaneater @queerriotgrrrl @co5m0 @dino-nuggets-posts

#in which robin is all of us #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #they're idiots your honor #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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singmyaubade · 1 year

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in love with my bullies

warning: mentions of smut : throatfucking, p in v bullying, and cursing

sypnosis : the marauders bullied you, tortured you. what will happen when you finally stick up for yourself?

dark!poly!marauders x female!reader

pacing is horrible in this story, ik but i was writing it while listening to music LMAO. did not proofread btw..

once again, here you were.

washing green slime gunk out of your hair in the abandoned bathrooms due to another marauders prank that was only towards you.

somehow their pranks always involved washing something out.

you tried your best to not be bothered or even show any sign of disdain in your face but this had really pissed you off.

it was relentless.

everyday, every hour, every minute, every second. the marauders would continue to bully you for no reason other than you being a slytherin.

but you would think that since there are so many slytherins, you wouldn't be top pick. you were quiet, kept to yourself, and never tried to go noticed in a huge crowd.

yet all the marauders did was pick you out and torture you.

the only one that showed you mercy was peter, he usually hung out with his girlfriend and never paid you much attention.

you thought it would be remus since he had a reputation for being mature and kind-hearted but even he showed you no mercy.

it's not like you could ask for any help, you didn't have a lot of friends that could help and even though you were a pureblood, the pureblood slytherins didn't accept you because of you family not helping the dark lord.

it wasn't easy.

and even though you tried to reason with them, they refused due to the fact you believed in 'blood supremacy' and you thought muggles 'deserved hell' which was complete rumors and you didn't believe that at all.

and now it was time to go back to class and the slimy substance had yet to disappear on your head. you then tried several spells in order to get it out of your hair and one had worked, getting whatever you couldn't.

you performed a drying spell before exiting out of the bathroom. you stepped out to see three out of the four marauders laying on the left of the wall with a smirk embroided on their face.

you scoffed, trying to move elsewhere.

"was that a scoff i heard?" james asked, stepping towards you with intimidation.

you never tried to look scared but you could tell it was painted all over your face.

"just let me go." you said, whimpering a little.

"aww," sirius stood in front of you, "are you gonna cry?" he asked, mocking you.

"i think she is." james replied in the same tone.

you looked over to remus who was looking at the entire situation with a look of entertainment and interest.

"fuck you." you spat, stepping face to face with james.

"don't say something you'll regret." he responded in a dark tone as you moved to step backwards but sirius was suddenly behind you.

you tried to carry a strong look on your face but they could tell you were easily intimidated.

"if you wanna go so bad," remus stood off of the wall and toward you, "all you have to say is please." his pointer finger holding up your chin.

you knew you wouldn't be able to move without doing as he asked.

"please," you whispered, locking in his eye contact, eyes watering.

"please what?" remus asked.

"please let me go." you said.

"good girl," he complimented, "that's all you had to say."

"you just have to be good, bunny." sirius whispered in your ear, feeling his hot breath down your neck, hand holding your waist.

in this moment, you were glad this was an abandoned hallway.

the worst part was, you wanted sirius to touch you more, aching for relief in your core.

you couldn't stop the butterflies in your belly nor the vibration in your entire body, it was as if you could feel all of your sense ten times more especially in your cunt.

your eyes were even getting blurry as if you were stuck in a trance.

you suddenly snapped back to reality to realize there was nobody around you, remus's eye contact, sirius's hand on your shoulder and james's stern tone, all gone.

it was all as if you had imagined it and the only thing that argued with that was the vibration throughout your body.

you had decided to take the rest of the day off, going to your dorm.

you entered your dorm to see your best friend, riley.

"i looked for you everywhere!" riley yelled, hugging you, "i gave them each a piece of my mind before i went to look for you." she looked into your eyes.

"it's fine riles, you know they are assholes." you said, half smiling.

"i'll kill them if you want me to, seriously," she said, knowing she wasn't joking.

you laughed it off, going to fix your bed.

"soooo," riley said, "there's a party tonight."

"where?" you asked.

a moment passed, "gryffindor."

you rolled your eyes, "no."

"cmon y/n!" she sat on your bed, "you can not let your fear of the marauders stop you from going to a party?"

"that's not it!" you said, still fluffing your pillow, "slytherin's aren't allowed at gryffindor parties."

"im pretty sure that rule only applies to the malfoys, dolohovs, blacks, and every dark lord supporter," riley said.

"they still hate me." you replied.

"only the marauders," she convinced.

"and they run that house," you argued.

"no they don't, most people think they are irritating." riley said factually.

"please don't make me go." you groaned.

"for me, please." riley pouted.

"don't do the puppy dog eyes," you groaned as she continued doing it, "fine, i'll go." you said, riley yelling excitingly and smothering you.

"can i still wear this?" you asked through her screaming.

she stopped and looked at you in disappointment, "y/n, i know i am not best friends with a vulture."

you giggled as riley went to her closet and picked out a red dress that was a little too short for your liking.

"this will hug your shape perfectly!" riley squeaked and went inside the bathroom before you could even give a response.

after a couple hours, you and riley were both finally done getting ready. she looked at you in total shock, "y/n, you look so fucking hot right now. and i mean that in the gayest way possible." her mouth open.

your entire face turned blush pink, "not too bad yourself riley." you laughed.

"let's go." riley suddenly rushed, grabbing your hand, practically dragging you to the gryffindor common room.

you couldn't hear anything from outside but you guessed it was a silencing charm.

you heard riley mutter the password before the dark opened and you saw students from each house having the time of their lives and the music was outrageously blasting.

riley grabbed your hand, dragging you through as the door closed.

you looked around to see if you could spot any of the marauders, only finding peter dancing with his girlfriend.

it was like you were a bunny in a room with foxes that you couldn't distinguish.

"let's dance!" riley shouted, making you look at her.

you shook your head but riley rolled her eyes and dragged you on the dance floor.

she started dancing but it's like she could feel your awkwardness as she grabbed your hips, moving your body with hers to the rythym.

eventually, you decided to just let go and try to enjoy yourself.

after about two or three songs, you had told riley that you were going to get a drink and asked if she wanted any but she was already making out with a hufflepuff girl and only swatted her hand.

you laughed, moving over to the drinks table.

you poured yourself some firewhisky when you felt someone roughly grab your wrist.

you turned around to see three of the marauders with james having a hold of your wrist to which you scoffed, yanking your wrist back.

"can you guys seriously fuck off for one night?" you sighed.

"have you forgotten yourself?" remus genuinely asked.

this was the night to stick up for yourself.

"have you?" you argued, "you all are fucking pathetic," you laughed humorlessly to which you could feel their anger radiating onto you, "i pray for the poor bastards who end up being your children if you all can even have any when your too busy sucking eachothers cocks," you insulted, "but if you don't me, i am going to go bed because you have unfortunately ruined this party for me." you shoved past them harshly, leaving the common room.

adrenaline was bouncing off of you, a new high you had never felt before. you were even partly turned on by the whole encounter.

you were even surprised they had let you pass

you speedwalked through the hallway in victory, you felt like you had finally won, that you had finally got a one up off of them.

you had yet to realize that the hallways were dark with a little bit of moonlight pouring through and you couldn't navigate your way due to you leaving your wand in your dorm.

you went to turn back to the common room but bumped into a hard surface to which you looked up to see remus lupin.

your heart skipped a beat as he roughly put his hand around your neck, shoving you into a wall. he was squeezing not enough for you to go unconcious but enough for you to not be able to take full breaths.

"what happened to your voice sweetheart?" he said as you croaked, "what happened to that dirty mouth?" you tried slapping off his hand but he only pushed you further into the wall.

you looked to both of your sides to see james and sirius.

"what do you think boys?" remus asked, "think she deserves to be punished?"

your eyes opened wider as you tried to make a sound but it came out in little squeaks.

"i think she does moony, i think we have given her too much freedom." sirius responded.

"yeah, i think we might have to fuck her into obedience." james said, inching closer.

even you couldn't stop the wet patch in your panties.

"i think that's what she wants, i mean let me check." remus said as confusion painted your face.

you felt him raise your dress up, hand now in your panties as you moaned.

"she's soaking wet," remus scoffed, "turns out to be a little slut after all."

you felt remus start rubbing your clit as you moaned more, his grip on your neck never softening.

you and remus staring at each other as james whispered something in his ear and he nodded.

he suddenly took his hand out of your panties, your entirety angry at his lack of letting you release.

he put your hands behind your back, leading you somewhere you couldn't figure out. there was a haze in your eyes that made it impossible for you to see a thing.

you heard a door close as you looked around, it was james's prefect dorm.

before you could grasp onto your reality, james put his mouth onto yours, bruising your lips as you moaned into his mouth.

you tried catching your breath but james was relentless, not letting you go.

you could feel sirius behind you, sucking hickeys onto your neck, knowing it would leave spots.

you couldn't even spot remus in the room due to all of the pleasure you felt.

sirius was unzipping your dress, letting it fall onto the ground. james was working your bra, letting it fall to the ground as he nibbled on your nipple.

sirius pulled your panties down, lifting your legs out of them.

suddenly, they both stopped touching you which made you whimper.

"on your knees bunny." sirius instructed as you obeyed almost immediately.

remus came into view, stepping in front of you.

"are you gonna suck my cock nice bunny?" remus asked, tipping your head up to look at him using his pointer finger.

you nodded immediately.

"good girl." he complimented which sent you into orbit.

he stroked his cock in his pants, bringing it out. his cock sprung up out of his boxers, pre-cum leaking off of his tip.

you licked stripes onto his tip causing him to groan.

"don't tease bunny." he moaned which caused you took his entirety into your mouth, gagging. he ponytailed your hair from going into your face using his hand.

you were still looking up at him as he threw his head back in pleasure, "so fucking good bunny," he praised you which sent tingles in your cunt, "sucks cock like a fucking champ,"

you looked over to see james and sirius jerking off to the sight in front of them.

before he could come, remus pulled you off of his cock, standing you up.

he took off his boxers fully, laying on the bed, reaching for you to climb on top of him.

you put your knees on the side of his hips as he stroked himself a bit and aligned himself up to your cunt.

you sank down on his cock with a moan, trying to fully adjust yourself. both of his hands were on your hips, speeding you up slowly.

you felt a mouth on your neck, sucking. the pleasure hitting you rapidly.

suddenly, remus pulled your head down to kiss you, his hand gripped on your neck while roughly fucking you.

you felt someone prodding into your ass before slipping inside. you moaned loudly into remus's mouth.

"bunny, don't tense." james said and you knew he was the one prodding. he went slowly but every time he went in, you sank down on remus's cock which made immediate pleasure shoot inside of you.

"you feel so fucking good," remus complimented, sucking harsh bruises onto your skin.

"so fucking good." james murmured.

both of their words praising you made you almost come on sight.

you were so cock drunk, babbling about how close you were. your eyes were watering due to the amount of pleasure you were receiving.

what made you crazier was sirius putting your mouth on his cock, throat fucking you while your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

your spit dribbling off of your chin as tears rained on your cheeks.

remus sucked on your nipple as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

their words muffled in your eyes.

remus and james had both cum inside of you which caused your first orgasm, moaning loudly, barely able to see due to the pleasure you were recieving.

sirius pulled out of your mouth as you gasped for air, throat being a bit hoarse.

james pulled out of you, delivering a kiss to your neck as a thank you.

your chest dropped to remus's chest as he pet your hair and praised you, "come one more time for me bunny?"

you babbled something while nodding your head which gave sirius permission to slide into your ass.

remus continued holding your head, eyes on his, admiring you.

"i love you bunny." he said before kissing you but this time more softly and delicately.

remus didn't give you the choice whether to say it back or not but you didn't know if he was being genuine or not.

sirius continued pounding into you but you were only able to whimper based on how cock drunk you were.

he praised you, telling you how good you were while remus massaged your puffy clit.

sirius came soon with you as your entire body felt exhausted. remus pulled you off of him as james grabbed a wet towel and wiped your legs and mouth. you winced as he brushed your clit, being hyper sensitive.

remus laid you down into james's bed, putting the blanket over you, kissing your head as you closed your eyes.

you didn't know what you were sure,

that you were in love with your bullies.

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moonsaver · 6 days

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Okay, honestly, I'm still reeling from the entire penacony quest, but here's my take on Sunday so far;

He's manipulative, obviously.

But like.. the type that's kind of hesitant from time to time because he's still sincere to a degree. At least, when it comes to his loved ones.

So, I guess that hesitance decreases a lot if you're just some nobody. Even then, Sunday does want the better for everyone, too. It just means that others may bear the brunt of it for the most part before being able to get ahold of it.

Also, at the very least, even if some people suffer, at the end Sunday believes they will reach where they want to, after. In that case, however, Sunday suffers far more than them, without actually ever reaching his own destination or idea of paradise.

However, this view is a bit distorted. Sunday believes to be "sacrificing" himself, shouldering loneliness and burdens in order to uphold everyone else's "paradise". But to the others, he's simply a tyrant overruling everyone's will with his own idea of Order.

Sunday deeply cares. He cares too much. That's kind of the problem.

A bit of self-destructing tendencies when pushed too far, I guess.

Lets ignore logic established by the quest for a second (because i literally am still reeling from it)

Imagine Sunday first discovers this possibility. He's terrified of it, but at the same time, he truly thinks this is humanity's salvage – for everyone who has deeply suffered. He thinks of you.

You who have had your fair share of pain, who confides in him late at night in the quiet of your privacy, hushed voices like silenced by a thick blanket through the wall.

You deserve to live a sweeter life. He thinks. No. You deserve more. He knows.

The first person he ever wants to step into this paradise – you.

Now, although Sunday was defeated in the end, we all know that unfortunately, our ragtag team had to wake up again because defeating him first was a dream. This means at some point, Sunday did succeed.

And after everyone wakes, you don't. You continue sleeping soundly. So does Sunday.

The rest of the world can return to their miserable, bitter lives outside of this dream; but Sunday will be damned if he's letting you go. Perhaps.. it's not a selfless wish, anymore. Perhaps at this point, Sunday desperately, selfishly, grips onto you with the latches of a sweet, deep dream. One where he was fatally destined to never reach, only to control from the waking world. Now that everyone else has woken, he wants to return to the dream. He wants to return to you, who he has so lovingly entrenched deep into it.

Also, Robin. Im in SO much pain... PLEASW..

Do you guys think.. even if Robin was vehemently resistant against Sunday's ideas..

Even though Sunday knew she wouldn't stand for it..

Do you guys think.. he wanted her to also join him at the end and enjoy the "Paradise" he created aswell?

Do you think he would have wanted Robin to stop worrying about everything, to take rest, to finally come home, and sing to her heart's content inside the dream? The dream where they set the bird free? The dream where Sunday still has a sweet tooth? The dream where she never has to wear elaborate neck-pieces? The dream where neither of them was hurt? Where neither of them left each other?

Oh...ogh. . My heart.

Sunday would be such a scary lover, too.

I mean even normally, I don't think a relationship with him would be that healthy

Particularly because it seems so healthy

If reader was in a relationship with normal sunday, I mean.. it's gonna at least appear healthy and normal, even to them. It's probably just Sunday having to constantly burden himself with all the dirty strings he has to pull, the quiet rush of water when he washes his hands before caressing the side of your face, the tight, closed smile he would give if you ever asked him what was wrong.. he can't let you know.

I think he'll take a yandere route in an established relationship if you do happen to find out what's been going on behind the scenes. He'll have to calm you down, and you promise you won't peep about it. The build up is almost invisible, because things seem to go back to the way they were. Before Sunday starts acting a bit.. restless. That would be when his yan! Tendencies would start kicking in, for a variety of reasons.

I feel like y'know, out of all the hsr cast, he's one of the characters who is genuinely very close to becoming a yandere canonically. Control freak? Check. Twisted ideals? Check. Unchecked power? Check. Hypnotization/manipulation? Check.

Also, the slight difference of his color pallete as opposed to Robin's.

His is much more washes out than Robin's. It's more "duller" but also more professional, and the gold of his halo is more colder than the warmer tone of Robin's halo. They both still have white/grey as a major color in their palletes, but Sunday's is accompanied by deep navy blues, or washed out blues. Robin's is very vibrant and purple. The only blue segment of her pallete is her hair, and it's remarkably more vibrant than Sunday's.

Also.. Sunday's whole ideas on "weak" and "strong"

Of course, it wasn't all correct, but that doesn't mean they didn't hold some semblance of sense.

Regardless, this playing with yan! Tendencies..... HOOOOO boy

So many thoughts. Sunday manipulating his partner is quite possibly the most common theme in them.

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ceesimz · 4 days

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My Soul, It Did Decide!

Part 2 of this!

Here it is, as promised. I thought it was too long but I couldn't decide what to take out, so have it all. It was supposed to be done and out for Friday but when the Northern Lights come knocking you gotta go find them😅 Enjoy! Title of P1 is from my favourite Little Simz song 'Angel', this one from 'Worth It.' by Raye!

Adjusting to life with a child was as daunting as expected; having a whole human being depend on you was quite possibly the most terrifying thing in the world. Yet, when wide brown eyes stared up at you in the dead of the night and ten little fingers gripped just one of yours, it felt like you were made for it.

Newborns were possibly the laziest species of all, and you loved it. The first few weeks of her life, all Anaís did was eat, sleep, eat, and sleep some more. That left plenty of time for you to marvel at every little thing about her; the few wisps of dark brown hair she had, her perfect button nose, her tiny feet that were ever-moving, and her hands with the most adorable nails you'd ever seen, if that was possible. Not to mention the smell of her, which you thought was a myth, how women were obsessed with the smell of their baby, but you weren't embarrassed to admit it was entirely true. Alexia loved to tease you about it, but when one time in the middle of the night you'd caught her doing the exact same thing as you, she reluctantly gave in and joined you in your opinion.

The beauty of parenthood unfolds in countless ways, and the wonder of seeing the world anew through your child's eyes is unparalleled. You'd come to learn that even the simplest things made to be the most incredible memories. But the thing that got you the most though, was not only the prospect of all the memories your family were going to make, but what life Anaís might live.

Would she follow in Alexia's footsteps and become a football legend? Would she follow your path instead, a more educated and business led one? Would she become a doctor and save hundreds of lives, would she become the first astronaut to land on Mars, or would she spend her life living at home with you and Alexia? You didn't care what she would grow to be, your first rule of parenting was to never hold expectations against them beyond the normal ones of being kind and whatnot. The pride you felt towards her at such a young age was so extreme and overwhelming, you couldn't begin to process what it would be like when she came into her own as a person. Truly, there was no greater joy than being a parent, that much was true, and you hadn't even experienced any of the larger milestones yet.

There were moments over your life, before Anaís, where you worried about how much you'd be able to handle a child. Sometimes you wondered if you even wanted kids, but the thought of not having Anaís in your world now was... god, you couldn't even imagine it.

Even when she was screaming at the top of her lungs, refusing to sleep.

"Anaís, mi chiqui, por favor. Go to sleep." You begged, slowly stepping around the room whilst rocking a crying Anaís in your arms.

You'd tried it all by now, and nothing was working. Diaper change, feeding her, soothing her, cuddling her, everything you could think of. But nothing was good enough. There were tears brimming in your own eyes, thoroughly exhausted due to the restless night Anaís had had so far, and it seemed the end wasn't in sight yet.

"Please, please, little one." You sniffled, your emotions finally consuming you as one of your tears fell to merge with Anaís' own on her cheeks. "I don't get what's wrong!"

For all you knew, Alexia was in the bedroom a few feet down the hallway, soundly asleep. Blissfully unaware of the difficulties you faced in the next room over. Selfishly, the thought only made matters worse. A strangled shout escaped you before you could stop it, stressing both yourself and Anaís out inexplicably more.

By the grace of something your shattered mind couldn't name, that last call out from you had awoken the Spaniard, and she soon came stumbling into the nursery, instantly sobered from her sleep upon the sight she walked into.

Your face was red from stress and sobs, Anaís' tiny little cheeks matching yours as her face scrunched uncomfortably with each scrike she let out, and you only cried more at the sight of Alexia.

"Mi amor, what's happening?" Alexia rushes over to you, cautiously taking Anaís from your arms as her eyes flick worryingly between you both.

"She won't stop crying!" You sob, hiding your face into her neck. "I've d-done every- everything, she just won't stop."

"Okay, okay. Hey, what time is it, amor? Can you check for me please? Just that one thing, my love, that's all." Alexia asks, hoping there was a remaining part of your overwhelmed mind that was still lucid.

"Um, it's- it's almost four, I think." You choke out, slumping into the rocking chair and crying into your hands.

"Thank you, amor, that's all I needed. Stay right here, can you hold our mija for just a minute whilst I get something? I will be right back, I will be really quick."

You nod, and Alexia presses a firm kiss to your forehead before placing Anaís back in your arms. The 8-week-old had almost fully exerted herself now, no more loud cries coming from her, only a few upset whines that broke your heart nonetheless. Wiping your face on the shoulder of your shirt, you cradle Anaís closely and rest your forehead against hers gently.

"I'm sorry I can't figure it out. I'm so sorry." You mutter exasperatedly, a few tears falling onto the baby's head.

Thankfully, Alexia races back into the room, holding something that would hopefully be the solution to Anaís' problem. The realisation of what was most likely wrong with her struck your heart.

"She is probably feeling unwell from her injections, amor. Let's give her some of this, it should make her feel better."

In her hand was a bottle of medicine for young infants, made for specific times like this. The previous day, Anaís had had her 8 week jabs and the doctor had suggested that she may feel a little under the weather afterwards, something that was completely normal, and the medicine Alexia held more often than not worked in the same way paracetamol did for people with cold symptoms. Anaís didn't seem to be running a fever, much to your relief, but she was obviously in some discomfort and it killed you that you hadn't thought of it.

"Yes, yes, give it her." You respond shakily, standing up as Alexia measures the right amount into the small syringe.

It takes a little while to give Anaís the small dose of medicine, having to give tiny amounts in quick intervals since she was so young, but a few minutes later she'd had it all with little fight. She's still very unsettled, but her tears have fully stopped now, instead letting out a few grunts as she wriggles restlessly.

"Hopefully she will feel better in a few minutes. Do you need anything, amor? Anything at all?" Alexia offers quietly, her hands coming up to rest on your cheeks as she wipes your tears away so delicately.

"No, I'm okay. You can go back to sleep now if you want." You tell her, not meeting her eyes.

"Hey, I'm staying with you and chiqui. Let me know how you are, sí?" Her eyebrows furrowed anxiously as her eyes assessed your face.

"I'm fine." You sniffle, but she instantly shakes her head.

"Mi amor, you seem so tired and stressed. Let's get back to bed and relax. I can text our friends that we won't make it to lunch later too?"

"No, we can still go. It'll be fine." You give her a tight-lipped smile, hoping it'll convince her, but your eyes are bloodshot and weighed down by some dark bags, and she sees straight through you.

"They know that parenting is never perfect or straight-forward, amor, we can just reschedule. You need the rest and so does Anaís, okay? I will text them. Come on, back to bed." She wraps an arm around your shoulders and guides you out of Anaís' room.

Once you're back in your shared bedroom, you sit back against the headboard and Alexia sits on the edge of the bed next to your legs. One of her hands rests on your bare knee as you wore a t-shirt and shorts in the hot summer weather, and she gazed at you with no love lost.

"She's tired herself out I think. With all the crying." You stated, unsure what to say when she's looking at you like she was. Alexia simply smiled and nodded, watching as Anaís' eyes finally fluttered shut.

"Look. She's okay now. We're all okay." She says, shifting a little closer and pressing a kiss to you cheek. "I love you. You are the best Mama that Anaís could have."

You don't reply, overridden by worries and doubts and tiredness to even consider the statement she'd made, so you just shrug and feel Anaís properly settle down, now asleep.

"Could you put her in her cot, please?"

Alexia nods immediately and stands before picking up Anaís, careful not to wake her, and murmurs a few words in Spanish to her followed by a feather-light kiss to her cheek, then she places her in the cot beside the bed. You watched the scene in front of you, it never failing to put a smile on your face even in the worse moments of parenting.

As Alexia makes her way back into bed, you shift to lay on your side facing Anaís, a position you lay in almost every night as it's reasurring to be able to see her so close to you whilst she sleeps due to the netting on the side of the crib. Alexia shifts up behind you and leans up on one elbow to press a kiss to your cheek, before hugging you tightly back into her.

"I'm proud of you. I love watching you being a Mami. It's my favourite thing ever." Alexia whispers, her thumb stroking over the soft skin of your hip under your shirt.

"Really?" You laugh humorlessly. "Even when I'm screaming and shouting and crying because I'm so fucking stressed? Because I can't help my own baby?"

Alexia frowns and rests up on one elbow again, using her other hand to press you onto your back so she can get a look at your face.

"Why would you say that?" Alexia asks in a voice that came across more stern than she wanted it.

"You saw the state of me when you walked in. It was such an obvious solution, what she needed, and it did not cross my mind at all. She was feeling poorly and I didn't notice. I couldn't figure it out." Your ranting voice trailed off with the last two sentences, your worries all-consuming in the moment.

"Oh, mi chica." Alexia sighs, laying down and urging you to curl into her side with your face hidden in her chest. "Don't say things like that, it breaks my heart. I believe in you as a parent more than anyone in the world, there's no one I trust more with our chiqui than you, amor. It is your first time being a parent, I do not blame you for anything. Nothing at a-"

"So why are you so perfect then? It's your first time too, yet you handle everything so much better than me." You cut her off with an argument that sounds more accusing than it actually was. Thankfully Alexia knew you didn't mean it maliciously, the only nasty thing in this situation was the doubtful devil on your shoulder.

"I just try my best, as do you. I still overthink every little thing I do and I still worry all the time. It's been a long and emotional day turned night and you're exhausted, it's fine that you didn't think of her feeling poorly because the doctors said it's a fifty-fifty chance she'd even fall ill. This is why we co-parent, because when one needs the other, we're always there. And when we need to rely on each other, that's absolutely fine. When we need help, that's fine too. I'm not perfect, neither of us will ever be the perfect parent, but to me you are perfect. I promise there is no one else I'd rather raise children with. Anaís loves you so much, and I love you so much."

She rambles on, words of devotion and appreciation seemingly spilling from her like it's second nature. At some point during her impromptu speech, her free hand had travelled up to your head as she lightly stroked through your hair.

"Do you hear me, amor?"

With a shy nod, you bury your face in her chest and sigh shakily.

"I love you." You mumble, your hand that rested on her waist squeezing gratefully.

"I love you too. Put that irrational voice in your head to the side and let's sleep as long as possible before she wakes up again. Then, we can relax all day. Even if that means staying in bed the whole time, and you know I never let that happen." Alexia jokes, relieved to hear the short, quiet giggle you let out. "I will always be proud of you. Comprendo? Always."

"Sí, Ale. Thank you." You murmur, taking one last glance at Anaís who is still sleeping soundly now that she's feeling better. Then you lay back down against Alexia's chest, loving nothing more than falling asleep cuddled up to her. "Is it okay for me to sleep like this?"

"More than okay, amor. Rest well."

Despite it not being the comfiest position for her, Alexia happily lays there and holds you until you fall asleep, which happens fairly quick. With a little readjustment and a disgruntled noise coming from you, she shifts to a better position before falling into a slumber soon after.

All the lows of parenting were miniscule in comparison to the highs, because when Anaís smiles so brightly for the first time in her life the next day, the events of the previous night were almost entirely forgotten. It happened whilst Alexia was downstairs making breakfast, you'd just dressed Anaís in her nursery and as you were smiling down at her, albeit tired and slightly delirious, she just returned the smile like it was something she'd been doing all her (short) life.

When Alexia made her way back upstairs, a filled breakfast tray in her arms, her heart dropped when she walked past the ajar door to Anaís' room to hear you sniffling once more. She thought it was something to do with the previous night, so she quickly set the food down in your room before racing back.

"What's wrong?" She asks tenderly, gently placing her hands on your shoulders as to not scare you.

"She, she smiled at me." You stammer, overjoyed at such a beautiful milestone.

"She what?" Alexia lightly moved you over so that she could stand beside you at the changing table, looking down at your daughter where she wiggled happily.

"She smiled at me! A big, gummy smile!" You repeated, Alexia laughing giddily.

"Really?!" She cried out. "How?"

"What do you mean, how?" You giggled, to which she lightly nudged your side and rolled her eyes.

"How did it happen?"

"I don't know, I was just looking at her and smiling at her little outfit and she smiled back." You recounted, a few sly tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.

"Mm, who wouldn't smile at a face like yours, amor?" It was your turn to roll your eyes, this time at her charm. "Let me see if I can make her smile."

You watch on as Alexia delicately takes hold of Anaís feet with one hand as the other comes up to dance her fingers up and down the bottom of her feet. The reaction is almost immediate.

"Oh my god, she did it again!"

You giggle at the grin offered up by the little girl in front of you, your cheeks aching as the happiness of the moment is worth everything that you'd gone through and more. And the look on Alexia's face too? It's priceless.

All in all though, one of Alexia's biggest loves was of course football, which meant there was only so long she could go without playing. However, she also couldn't bare the thought of leaving your side for too long now that Anaís was in her life, so she opted out of the international pre-season camp that the team had organised and instead chose to stay back at home to do her own specialised camp at the Barcelona training facilities. Training days were longer compared to the little and often gym days she'd had over the last few months, but for her there was absolutely nothing better than knowing that you and Anaís were waiting for her with open arms, no matter how her day had gone.

Her new way of life gave her a completely different perspective for her career, and it felt like her motivation for, not only football, but her life in general had been completely redefined. She had a tiny human being to care for now, and everytime she kicked the ball, everytime she stepped on the pitch, every pass she completed, everything she did was done so with an urgency to be as perfect as possible. And no, that wasn't a toxic mindset, because as the past couple weeks had shown her, there was hardly such a thing called perfection. Undoubtedly she was annoyed at herself whenever she made a mistake, that would never change, but as long as Anaís still greeted her with that infamous gummy smile of hers everytime she saw Alexia, it was hard to be so negative when the meaning of her life gazed up at her like Anaís did.

However, the prize that was her career came at the expense of sometimes missing out on moments that tore her heart in two.

Ever since Anaís had first smiled, Alexia had been on a mission to achieve the next milestone: hearing her giggle for the first time. The happiness of her little girl was addictive, and she was sure that when she heard her laugh for the first time, she'd want to hear it every second for the rest of her life.

Unfortunately, timings weren't on her side.

In her hotel room, hours away from her family, she checked her phone for the first time since she got back from her game that evening to see a video you had sent. And what she was met with was so beautiful, but so heartbreaking.

With your friend behind the camera, you were stood in front of the TV screen with Alexia's game playing, holding Anaís over your head and slowly lowering her down until you can blow raspberries on her tummy. Her reaction? Letting out the most adorable, high-pitched giggle. Otherwise known as the sound Alexia had been dying to hear. With that, she dropped her phone to the bed beside where she sat and covered her face in her hands.

Of course she was over the moon at such a milestone, but she found herself moved to tears at the fact she wasn't there to witness it for herself. The person she'd go to when she was down was obviously you, but when she checked the time on her watch, she saw that it was about this part of the evening that you started Anaís' nighttime routine to get her settled. It was a precarious process and the less distractions, the smoother it goes. So instead, she turned to the the other woman of reason in her life, her own Mami.

"Hi mija. How are you?" Eli answers within two rings, herself back at home in Barcelona too.

"Hola Mami, I'm okay. Did you see the game?" Not quite possessing the willpower to open up yet, she started up a light and easy conversation.

"Of course I did, it was very good. Was Keira okay after the game? She went off, right?"

"Ah, yes, she did. Just cramp, I think." Alexia murmurs, a frown on her face as she messes with the corner of the pillow and concentrates on not falling apart so quickly. But after all, it is her own Mother she's talking to.

"And how are you, really?" There it is. That's the phase that breaks anyone who's on the verge of tears.

"Um, overall I'm okay, but tonight... a bit... not okay." Her voice cracks as she speaks, her frown more prominent as a single tear sneaks out.

"Why's that, mija?" Alexia hesitates. "You can tell me anything Ale, you know that. No matter what it is."

"Well, it's not really a secret that I'm not a big fan of travelling for football. It's always been that way and you've known that." Eli hums in acknowledgement down the line. "But now, it's... so much harder. Leaving my family at home. Anaís, she changes everyday and I'm missing that."

"And you rang me because you're too afraid to ring home, aren't you?" As ever, Eli could read Alexia inexplicably well, even hundreds of miles apart.

"Yes. Because it's not their fault, it's nobody's fault. I know it is just life and it's my choice, nobody is forcing me to continue playing, but now I'm starting to wonder if it's all worth it when I'm missing out on something so incredible. Anaís laughed for the first time this evening, and I was hours away, in a different country, on a football pitch, doing what?" Alexia scoffs, bringing a hand to her forehead with a quiet groan.

"You were out on a football pitch doing your job, achieving your dream, earning to provide a great future for your family, Alexia. It's not all for nothing, it's for everything. It's for Anaís' future and how well she gets to live, that's a privilege. It's for your future child's life and how well they get to live too. This is your dream, your Papi's dream, this is everything you've worked for all your life. Your children will get to reap the benefits from it, and you'll get to watch them grow up and lead beautiful lives because of the opportunities you will provide for them." Eli reasurres her, and Alexia begins to feel better by the second.

"I know. I know. You're right, Mami. Always."

"Sí, siempre." Eli agrees with strong conviction, making Alexia laugh quietly. "Think of how many more laughs you will hear from Anaís, Ale. You have a lifetime of laughter with her. Her first laugh, it was caught on camera, I got sent the video too. So you didn't miss it, you can watch it all night long tonight. Don't get so clouded about this, I know you and how your mind works and when your nena is back in your arms tomorrow, all this will be forgotten. But if we need a longer conversation about it, you can speak to me whenever."

"You... you get me everytime, Mami." Alexia smiles, Eli laughing heartily. "Thank you. You are right. I will get over all of this. T'estimo, I will see you tomorrow?"

"Mhm, at dinner. Ring your corazón tonight, escuchame? Hablar con ella, she will want to know. Then get some rest, sí? Mi hija, jo també t'estimo. Bona nit."

"Bona nit, Mami."

Before she got herself settled for the night, she fired off a quick text to you that asked for you to ring her when you had a moment. She knew it could be five minutes or five hours until you rang her, and she would happily accept either.

Once she had done her own night routine, she gets into bed knowing she will probably not get a lot of sleep tonight, even if she's not got to get up for a unhappy baby. With that knowledge, she grabs her phone again and watches the video from earlier. Before, she'd only gotten to the part where Anaís had giggled for the first time. What she hadn't seen though was the next few seconds of it, where the match broadcast had shown a close-up of herself. Stood to the side of the screen, your friend zoomed in on Anaís' face who had recognised her Mami on the screen and let out another burst of giggles before hiding her face in your neck.

It warmed Alexia's heart to no end, and all her thoughts from earlier flew out the window at the footage she'd just seen. Whether it was physical or not, she had been there in the moment of Anaís' milestone, and she had been there in the mind of her daughter at such a time. In fact, she had also made her laugh in the moment, and that meant the world to her. She just needed to experience it in real time now.

A little later, when she was watching some junk on the hotel TV, her phone finally rang with an incoming call from you.

"Hola, amor. Thank you for ringing me." Alexia breathes out as she lays on her side in bed.

"Of course, Ale. I watched the game, it was a good result. How are you after it? Feeling alright?" You whisper, sat up against the headboard and watching Anaís as she sleeps soundly.

"Sí, todo bien. How are you? Did Anaís get to sleep okay?" Alexia's eyes shut as she asks, picturing her daughter laughing to her heart's content.

"We're all good here, she's snoozing away beside me. Bedtime went as smooth as possible." You smile and resist the urge to reach out to take Anaís' hand, not wanting to disrupt her sleep. "With a few giggles here and there."

"I saw the video. Qué niña tan increíble es, no?"

"Isn't she just?" You sigh contentedly. "Did you see the part where she giggled at you on the TV?"

"I did. I just wish I was actually there to see it." Alexia mumbles, and you can easily detect the sadness in her voice.

"I know. I... I was in half a mind whether to send the video to you or not. Because I knew it would probably upset you, that you weren't here for it. I know how much you wanted to see it."

"No, no, I'm so glad you did. Forget the football game, it made my night. I will get to see her tomorrow, it'll be fine."

A few things you'd learnt in your time with Alexia: one, she was great at shunning her feelings to the side if it made other's lives easier. Two, she would reach a point where that habit of hers would cause a meltdown. And three, you were her weak point, and she could never shy away from pouring her heart out for too long to you.

"I know you, Ale." You state softly. "I know you're more upset than you let on."

"Mm. I was but I rang my Mami and I feel better now."

"You promise?"

"I promise." Alexia smiles, because she knows that tomorrow she'll have her daughter and the love of her life back in her arms, and it'll all be okay.

"Okay. Let me know if you want to talk about it, anytime at all." Alexia hums in acknowledgement. "I have an idea."

"What's that?"

"Tomorrow, instead of getting the coach back from the airport, why don't Anaís and I pick you up?" You suggest, knowing exactly what she needs, which is to see her daughter.

"I would love that. That would be amazing." Alexia replies breathlessly a few moments later. "I would really love that."

"Then it's a plan, hm? We'll be there, waiting for you. Might even make a sign. 'Welcome home, Mami! '" You tease, grinning when Alexia chuckles shyly.

"I have been gone for a few days only. I'm not coming home from prison, amor."

"Hm, don't lie, I know you'd love it if I did do that though. I see right through you, Alexia."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." You hear her stifle a yawn, and though it's not late, playing 90+ minutes of football whilst caring for a young baby are two things that are already exhausting in itself.

"Get some peaceful sleep while you have the opportunity. I'm jealous." Alexia huffs.

"You know I don't sleep after a game. Even worse when you're not with me." She complains.

"Okay, then I'll stay on the phone whilst I have a bath and I'll wait until you fall asleep." You hear the smirk before she even replies.

"And how will I sleep if I know you're in the bath?"

"You would think that now you've got a child, you'd be somewhat more mature." You roll your eyes but there's a hint of a smile on your face. "I'm not going to video call you because I know for a fact you wouldn't sleep then. I'll just talk your ear off. You normally reach a point where you stop listening when I do that."

"Anaís does too. You talk her ear off a lot."

"It's good for her development! When she starts talking at eleven months instead of twelve, you'll be thanking me."

The pair of you continue to chat and joke for long into the night, you deciding to ditch your plans for a bath and Alexia more than happy to listen to you discuss whatever came to your mind. For the whole duration of the call, there's a soft smile on her face that doubles in size when she hears you gently shushing and soothing Anaís when she fussed a little in her sleep. It was safe to say she was more excited for her airport pickup the next day than she was for anything in her life.

Because the sight of her little girl in your arms the following afternoon was a thing she didn't know it was possible to miss so dearly over a short period of time. You didn't have a sign, but in one of Anaís' tiny fists was a small Barcelona flag that matched the jersey she wore too. As soon as Alexia caught sight of you both, she ditched the conversation she was in the middle of and broke off into a light jog towards you. Anaís was turned away from her at first, but when she got closer, you shifted the little girl in your arms and pointed towards her Mami running over.

And what did she do then? At the sight of Alexia, running with her luggage and her laptop in her arms with a shy grin on her face, Anaís giggled.

"Ay, dios mío. Mi chiqui." Her voice was quiet and shaky when she spoke, immediately placing her bag down and her laptop on it before reaching out for Anaís. "Hola, nena. Hi!"

You wrap an arm around her waist and rest your head on her shoulder, laughing when Anaís reaches a little hand out to grab at Alexia's nose. The rest of the team stay back and watch the moment, Mapi having filmed it all as she knew it'd be a memory Alexia would want to keep. They had never seen this side of Alexia, where her heart was merely a puddle on the floor due to the love she held for her daughter. Anaís didn't know it yet of course, but she had Alexia wrapped around her finger from the minute she was born, and that was never going to change.

"Oh, I have missed her so much." Alexia sighs, resting her forehead against Anaís' cheek and repeatedly pressing kisses to the soft skin there. Quickly, the baby's attention inevitably falls elsewhere - being in such a hectic public space like an airport was just so intriguing for her.

"She missed you too. Look at that smile! She's dribbling all over the place." You state, Alexia shrugging nonchalantly.

"I don't care. Anaís, oye, mírame." Alexia leans back and gently pokes her daughter's cheek to gain her attention back. However, the young girl was seemingly stuck in a giggly trance as Mapi creeps closer, pulling a different face with every step she takes. "Mapi! Basta, pendeja! You are distracting her!"

You laugh at Alexia's jealousy and Mapi's subsequent pout, quickly wiping away Anaís' drool with the bib she had on.

"Ay, Ale, don't swear in front of your child." Mapi tuts, a smug grin on her face as she lightly tickles under Anaís' chin and pulls yet another giggle from her. It's simply music to Alexia's ears.

"María, come on, leave them alone." Ingrid takes Mapi's hand and pulls her away but not without a grumble from her.

Finally, now that Mapi and her childish tendencies are gone, Anaís decides to turn her attention back to Alexia.

"There is my chiqui." Alexia bops her nose lightly, eliciting her new favourite sound from her. "Shall we go home?" Anaís grins, her little tongue poking out as she does so. "Mhm, home time! Venga, Mama, let's go so we can cuddle on the couch."

With another laugh, this time at Alexia's eagerness, you pick up her laptop as well as the Barça flag that had fallen from Anaís' hand at some point, and place them both in the backpack Alexia was wearing. With Alexia holding Anaís, you go to grab her suitcase but she gets there before you.

"I have it, mamacita." Alexia smirks as she says it, and you roll your eyes and start walking. "Hm, hola to you too. I missed you also, by the way."

"Come on, my favourite groveller. Let's get dribbles here back home, she needs a nap soon."

Before she knows it, Alexia is dead to the world asleep with her head on your lap as you comb through her hair delicately and Anaís sleeps on her chest. It was a sight you had missed more than you realised, and you of course had to pull your phone out and document it. For Alexia, there was truly nothing better than being at home.

In a baby's first year of life, first-times and milestones come thick and fast. Foremost is the first feed, the first diaper change, the first sleep. Changes in both their behaviour and their appearance happen so quick, it's hard to keep up. Those initial milestones may be seen as minor, if you look past the sentimentality to them, because when the 'proper' developments start happening, that's when it gets special but utterly hectic.

Three major things seem to happen at once for Anaís. Two of them are fine, amazing actually, as they're the first step of leaving infancy: sleeping in her own room and starting to be introduced to solid food. But it's the third one that catches Alexia completely off-guard, something that happens out of the blue, and it has the Spaniard panicking like nothing else.

One moment, she's changing Anaís' diaper, the next minute, her child has vanished.

You were elsewhere in the house, probably using the valuable alone time to be productive with house chores, so you were none the wiser. Alexia had turned away for hardly a second, but Anaís was long gone.

How, one may ask?

Well, the little girl just decided to up and crawl away on her own accord.

To be honest, she didn't get very far, and neither did Alexia's panic last too long because only a few seconds later did she hear the familiar grunts of her daughter and the quiet slaps of her hands against the wooden panels of the lounge floor.

So when Alexia got up and walked towards the sound, there Anaís was, casually crawling around like it was nothing.

"Dios mío, Anaís, you scared me!" Alexia sighs, relieved, as she picks her up and puts her on her hip. "Eres tan descarada, pequeña. Honestly."

Then Alexia turned, leaving the room and wandering upstairs to find you. Anaís' nursery was empty, nor were there any sounds of life coming from any of the other rooms, so she knocked lightly on your shared bedroom door before walking in. She let out a short burst of laughter when you scrambled up off the bed, slightly embarrassed at being caught laying unproductively in bed on your phone.

"What is it?" You blurted out, cheeks a little red.

"Amor, we have a problem." Alexia sighed dramatically, worrying you slightly.

"Okay, are you going to tell me, or..?" You asked, stepping closer and smiling at the dribbling baby in Alexia's arms. She greeted you with her now toothy grin, almost like she knew the chaos she was soon to cause.

"You will never guess what just happened." Alexia laughed, as did Anaís, consequently making you laugh too.

"Tell me then!"

"I was changing her, and I looked away for one second to bag up the dirty diaper, and she was gone. She crawled away, amor. So quick." Your jaw falls in shock, eyes flicking between Alexia's slightly fearful face and Anaís' blissfully unaware one.

"You're joking." Alexia shakes her head.

"No. We have a little explorer on our hands now. We will have to tape our eyes open, otherwise we could blink and she will be gone."

You stay frozen for a little longer, eyes wide and mouth agasp, before your body deflates and you slap your palm against your forehead with a deep groan.

"Welcome to the start of toddler life, amor!"

The chaos of having a small child that now possessed many worrisome abilities wasn't all bad, because after all, there were still many moments that continuously proved everything that parenthood involved was 100% worth it.

Any challenges or difficulties that life threw at you and Alexia were almost always temporarily forgotten whenever Anaís was around. That was the best thing about having a child; they are so young and innocent and cheerful, it's hard to feel down for too long when they're giggling in your face or squealing at nothing or even just sleeping in your arms.

That's where Alexia found herself today.

Even with her newfound confidence and willpower for football, sometimes that all slipped out from underneath her feet. That was the case with the game she'd just arrived home from. Anaís had had a small sleep regression recently, causing the both of you to be up and down constantly all night. Ultimately it took its toll on the both of you, but with you still on maternity leave whilst Alexia travelled around Spain and Europe for match after match, she was inexplicably exhausted.

Everything had caught up with her it seemed, because no matter how hard she tried and how frustrated she got, nothing went her way in the game. So much so that she was taken off at the 60 minute mark due to her performance, something that hadn't happened to her in... well, she couldn't remember.

The only positive from the day was the fact it was a home game, meaning she'd be able to crawl into bed and hide from the world for sometime with her little family. She wouldn't be lying if she said she had never desired anything more.

When she got back to the house, you were in the kitchen having just eaten a late dinner as Anaís was lay in her mobile swing, the saving grace to her sleeping issues as it seemed to be the only thing to get her off to sleep at night now. There was a plate of food waiting in the microwave for Alexia, but her appetite was completely gone at this point.

"Hola." She whispered when she walked into the room.

"Ale." You smiled sadly at her broken demeanour, immediately opening your arms. With a slight hesitation, she comes over and allows herself to let go in your embrace, and the tension you feel under your arms tells you everything you need to know about her current state of mind. "I know you're probably frustrated with yourself about today, but I want you to know I'm still proud of you. For everything, absolutely everything."

"W... Why?" Alexia mumbles insecurely.

With a frown, you lean back slightly and bring up both hands to rest on her cheeks. She doesn't meet your eyes until you raise her chin up a little, and it opens up a world of emotional complexity.

"Why am I proud of you?" You repeat and Alexia nods. "Because you are playing football at the highest standard in Europe and achieving so much, whilst also being the best Mami for our little girl. That's hard, Alexia, two very difficult things to juggle at once and you just do it. I can't ask anymore from you. That is why I'm proud of you."

She makes a noise of uncertainty, almost like she can't believe you'd say such a thing. At that, you sigh and urge her to bury her face back into your neck, to which she does so instantly. One of her hands comes up to clutch at the back of your neck as the other wraps tightly around the small of your back, and you let her stay like that for as long as she needs.

Some time passed before she decided to pull back, to which she rested her temple against yours for a few seconds until she looked down at you.

"Thank you." Alexia breathes out, turning slightly to look at where Anaís was fast asleep in her swing. "I... I know she is asleep, but can I pick her up? Please?" You pull a face at the question, wondering why she's asking to pick up her own daughter, but Alexia interprets it differently. "I just need to hold her, amor. If I wake her up, it's my fault and I-"

"No, Ale, of course you can pick her up. Of course you can." You tell her, and she moves instantly.

This version of Alexia you unfortunately knew too well. Even as a senior, veteran player, her whole self-worth completely crumbled whenever she gave a poor performance in a game. It was something about her that would probably never change, so you had grown accustomed to it over time. And tonight was one of those especially bad occasions, but it's the first time it had happened since Anaís had come into your lives, so you were sure that the little girl's presence was involved in the buildup to Alexia's current mindset, but she could also be the exact solution the Spaniard needed.

With your worries for your partner in the back of your mind, you watched as Alexia delicately unclasped the buckle keeping Anaís secure before picking her up.

"Shh, mi nena, sólo soy yo, tu Mami." She quietly soothed her, one hand holding Anaís up against her shoulder as the other rubs comfortingly across her back. The little girl immediately turns her face into Alexia's neck, mewling at the disruption before she soon settled again. "Te quiero mucho, preciosa."

"Why don't you go through to the lounge and I'll heat up your dinner for you?" You suggest, watching as Alexia nods wordlessly and leaves the room.

Seeing her like this, it's unexplainably difficult. You know there is not much you can say that'll make a difference to how she feels right now, it's something Alexia has to work through on her own, a classic case of time heals all, but that acknowledgement doesn't soften the blow at all. However, you hope that spending time with you and Anaís will make her feel a little better before the night is over.

You get a hint of that when you walk into the lounge a few minutes later; Alexia is sat stiffly upright against the sofa, the uncomfortable position of her contrasted by her closed eyes as Anaís lay across her shoulder. Alexia had her face turned to the side into Anaís, and under the dim light of the room, lit up only by a lamp in the corner, you notice a stream of tears running down her cheek.

Wasting no time, you put the plate you were holding down onto the coffee table before sitting down beside them both. Careful not to disrupt the peace either of them had created, you wrap an arm around Alexia's shoulders and press a gentle kiss to her jaw. The midfielder shifts slightly so that she's leaning against you, keeping Anaís in place as you raise a hand to brush her tears away.

"Okay?" You whisper, resting your head against hers.

"Mhm." Her voice cracks slightly even as she hums, so you hug her a little tighter.

All three of you settle into silence, comforted by the sound of Anaís snoring lightly. Nothing needs to be said, nor could you think of anything, so you allow Alexia this moment to decompress from the day, wanting nothing more than for her to feel better. It doesn't matter to you how she gets there, whether that's by staying on this sofa all night long with you and Anaís, or forgetting to eat her dinner in front of her, whatever it takes you'll let her do. Because you think the world of her, and when she's feeling down, it offsets everything around you.

Until, some time later, Alexia breaks the silence with a sentiment that causes you to tear up too.

"I wish I could stay here forever."

She spoke so quietly, you would have missed it if you weren't waiting for it.

"Here, with you and with Anaís. Nobody watching us, no one asking anything from us. Just us three." It was clear from the tone of her voice that she's getting a bit teary again, and it tugs at every one of your heart strings. "Nothing can match this. I never want to do anything else again."

"Ale." You sigh shakily, suppressing cries of your own as her shoulders shake with silent sobs.

In her mind, she had to be completely silent, because if she woke up Anaís now, you don't even want to think about what her mind would tell her. It would be lethal. She couldn't handle failing at another thing, couldn't handle disappointing the two people she loved most.

"Go put her to bed before I wake her."

"Are you sure?" She nodded and shifted away from you.

"Don't want to wake her up."

With that, you stand up and watch Alexia place a final kiss to Anaís' forehead before she gives her to you. You move as quickly as possible without waking your daughter up, delicately placing her down in the crib in her room and grimacing as you do so in case she wakes up with a cry, but the universe must be on your side today because she stays asleep. A relieved sigh escapes you as you flick on the baby monitor, grabbing one of them and leaving the room. Heading back downstairs, you cautiously make your way back to the living room, not really sure what sight you'll walk into.

What you see is equally as heartbreaking as every time you'd looked at Alexia this evening.

She's seated in the same position as before, but this time her head is thrown back against the cushions of the sofa, and her face is completely stoic and devoid of emotion. The exception that gave her away were the stuttered breaths coming from her and the damp lines down her cheeks.

You join her again, wrapping both arms around her this time and pulling her fully into you. One of her hands comes up to grip your upper arm as she cries a little harder into your shoulder.

"We both love you, Alexia, so much. Please don't forget that." You remind her, stroking up and down her back as you embrace her. "You're more than good enough for us, no matter what your mind is telling you."

That seems to hit a sensitive point for her, because she only sobs harder into you. The only thing you can do now is be there for her, so you decide against speaking anymore to wait for her outburst of emotions to simmer down.

It takes longer than you expect, but eventually it does happen, and she falls quiet again whilst slumped against you. Casting your mind back through the years with her, you can't recall a time seeing Alexia as distraught as she was tonight. So, at that revelation, you gently urge her head back up from your shoulder and properly look at her. With your hands on either one of her cheeks, you lean in to press the softest kiss of mankind onto her forehead. It pulls more tears out of her, the tenderness of it, but her shoulders aren't wracking with sobs and her breathing is almost entirely normal.

"What's going on?" You question, gazing up into her normally piercing eyes, but tonight they were half-lidded and filled with defeat.

"No sé." She rasped. Her mind is way too convoluted to unravel everything going on at the moment, so she finds the words to say and pieces them together. "Not tonight. Please."

"Okay, that's okay. We don't have to." You reassure her, and you can see the relief flood her as her body deflates. "Can I talk though? I have some things to say."

"Sí." She shrugged, taking one of your hands with both of hers and fiddling with the rings you wore.

"Hey, you gotta look at me." You demand softly, tilting her chin up. You meet her eyes and smile a little, an act that rids her mind of one of the dark clouds over her. "I don't care how soppy and cliché this is, but meeting you is the best thing that has ever happened to me."

Alexia chuckles at that, something she's done thousands of times in front of you, but this one perhaps means the most.

"That is cliché." She comments, grinning half-heartedly when you roll your eyes.

"I already said it was, you can't claim that one. Let me finish." You push her shoulder lightly before composing yourself again. "You are the only person I want, Ale, and you mean so much to me. I can't even put it into words, so that's all you're getting for that part."

She laughs again, this time a little more tearfully as your loving words are fighting off all her doubts.

"To Anaís and I, it doesn't matter how many goals you get in a game or how many trophies you get in a season. I just want my Ale to be happy, and Anaís just wants her Mami to be happy. We will love you no matter what, and I'll be here as I am now to remind you, and Anaís will remind you the next time she's sick from you making her laugh." Alexia shakes her head at the reminder of an incident she had certainly learnt her lesson from a few months ago, the pair of you laughing quietly about it again. "You've seen the way Anaís looks at you. She's infatuated with you, Ale. And it's possibly my favourite thing in the world."

She sniffles a few times but nevertheless nods when you finish talking, feeling indefinitely better than she did when she got home. Raising your hand, she lightly kisses your ring finger before leaning forward to envelope you in a tight hug. It's an embrace that conveys all the words she can't verbalise right now, something you instantly understand as you know the woman in your arms better than she knows herself at this point.

"You're all we both will ever need. You just need to remember that more often."

There was a conversation that you and Alexia had had during the time you were trying to get pregnant, one that all same-sex couples most likely have at that stage. But it was resolved fairly quickly, and that was that you would be Mama and Alexia would be Mami. Ever since then, you and Alexia had endlessly teased and bantered each other about what Anaís would say first out of the two options.

What you weren't expecting though, was Alexia's reaction when Anaís eventually did say her first word.

Anaís bellowed her first word at you one random morning when you walked into her room where she sat waiting for her parents in her crib. Alexia was a few steps behind where you froze in place, overcome with about every emotion one could name at the fact Anaís had not only spoken, but said Mama too.

Alexia's excitement kicked in immediately, so she skipped over to Anaís' crib and picked her up, holding her in the air and grinning up at her.

"What did you just say, chiqui? Did you say... Mama?"

"Mama!" Anaís squealed loudly, giggling when Alexia rewarded her with a barrage of kisses.

You were still stuck in place, the only difference was that there were now tears of joy dripping onto the carpet by your feet. Alexia turned with your daughter in her arms, laughing when she brought her over to you.

"Hola, Mama! Let's wipe these tears, right Anaís?" She takes one of Anaís' hands and uses it to brush the tears off of your face. "Say the magic word, nena! Mama!"

"Mamaaaa." She shouts and to add to the sentiment of the moment, she points right at you as she says it, indicating that she does actually know what she's saying.

"Yes, well done! Oh, we are so proud of you, chiqui, aren't we?" You nod and cover your face with your hands, curling into Alexia's side. It's a struggle for her to hug you whilst also holding a wiggly Anaís who is always giddy in the morning, but she makes it work. "Sí, we are, Anaís. Mama, are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, perfect. I just can't believe she said it." You sniffle, removing your hands from your face but staying at Alexia's side.

Anaís grins as you reach out to cup her cheek, turning her head to blow raspberries against your hand. The three of you laugh together, you and Alexia forever enraptured by every display of Anaís' ever growing personality.

"I always knew she would say Mama first and I'm so glad she did." Alexia admits, chuckling at the confused face you pull.

"Why?" You wonder, leaning forward to kiss the tip of Anaís' nose.

"Because you deserve it. You did all the hard work with her, being pregnant and then giving birth like a campeona, and you do a great job being her Mama. It was only right for her to say it first."

You had no idea she felt such a way about the situation, and it only caused you to get emotional again. It wasn't that Alexia never voiced her gratitude towards you, she did it daily, it's just that hearing her speak so highly of you as a parent meant far more to you than you could ever voice.

"Thank you, Ale. That's unbelievably sweet of you to say." You giggle, thumbing away a few tears and leaning your head against her shoulder.

"Buena, it's the truth. Oye, Anaís?" Alexia calls back Anaís' attention, smirking when her daughter looks up at her. She raises her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for her to say the inevitable. "Ma..."

"Mama!" Anaís grins at you again, jerking forwards towards you.

"Woah!" You catch her, holding her tight against you in a loving hug. "You are crazy, Anaís."

The little girl seems surprisingly outraged at that as starts to babble away unabashedly in your arms, her hands gesturing wildly as she did so, a trait she'd clearly picked up from her Mami. You giggle at her unintelligible ramble, blushing when Alexia randomly places an affectionate kiss on your cheek.

"Loca como su Mama, amor!" Alexia comments with a poke at Anaís' leg. "She even loves chattering away like you."

"Sí, nuestra paralanchina pequeña."

You tickle Anaís' tummy, interrupting her ramble. She turns to you with an angry face that is scarily similar to Alexia's, and the pair of you have to stifle your laughter at the sight of it out of fear of whatever terrible consequences she'd release upon you both.

"Enojada como su Mama también." Alexia mutters.

It's your turn to fix her with a warning glance. She instantly backs down with her hands up in surrender, stepping away from the fury running through the veins of her two favourite girls.

"Mama?" Anaís turns back to you with a questioning glance, and you take advantage of that.

"Sí, Anaís, Mami needs to run away right now, doesn't she?" You smile politely at your daughter, one she returns, before you both look back to Alexia with those menacing grins. A second passes before she sprints out the room. Anaís laughs and you chuckle too, walking out of the room in a much calmer fashion.

If there was one thing you'd learnt about parenting so far, it was that you should never take things for granted. There's a seemingly infinite number of firsts in a person's life and being there to witness them all as a parent was an experience that couldn't be conformed to a few measly adjectives. Sure, you would hear Anaís say 'Mama' countless times in your life, but you wouldn't ever get to hear it for the first time again. Sometimes, when you thought about that, you were consumed by sorrow, but that was part and parcel of parenthood. No matter how harrowing it was, you had no choice but to accept it.

The thing that easily made up for it was spending the rest of your life as a parent to Anaís, and in the grand scheme of things, that was the biggest privilege you could ever have.

Not so long after the beautiful experience that was Anaís' saying her first word, she turned a whole year old. One year of having a little plus one with you everywhere you went, one year of seeing the woman you love grow into an amazing parent, one whole year of nothing but the absolute best memories you've ever had the honour experiencing. To say it had been the best twelve months of your life was a complete understatement.

Obviously due to your work and Alexia's games, you had a very low-key day between yourselves on her actual birthday, and 'day' was a generous word. It was more of a frantic celebration because of course Anaís chose her birthday to be the day she had her first ever lie-in. When she finally woke up, it meant you only had less than an hour to spend as a family before Alexia had to leave for training which doubled into media day that she couldn't avoid. Fortunately, the team had organised it so that she was first so she could get home as soon as possible, but she had still grumbled about it everyday since it was arranged.

The short hour was enjoyable nevertheless, if not a little emotional, and you practically had to push Alexia out of the door so that she wasn't late. You understood her defiance, knowing that if you were in her shoes you would be wrecked at having to be away from Anaís on her birthday, but it was only for a few hours and that was enough persuasion for her to go.

When she did return, she hardly let Anaís out of her sight. That was until her closest family and childhood friends came over for a calm dinner to celebrate your daughter. It was turning out that Anaís was quite the social butterfly, so she was happy to be passed around all evening to the ones you and Alexia loved most. The day completely exhausted her though, and that night you and Alexia spent far longer than normal stood over her where she slept in her crib.

The midfielder was behind you with her arms around your torso, her chin on your shoulder as you both gazed at your daughter's sleeping form. This time a year ago, you were in a hospital bed with a tiny, wrinkly baby in your arms as Alexia lay beside you. Now, a year on, that little newborn had completely grown into her own and was fast on her way to walking. It was a bittersweet contrast for sure, but you were well adjusted to how fast time moves and how to accept things, so it didn't plague you in the same way things had in the past.

To Alexia, not that she had made you aware yet, this day wasn't just about Anaís, but you too. Because a year ago today, she had graced her eyes upon the greatest wonder in the world, and that was all down to you. You, who had gone through agonising pain for much longer than just the time you were in labour, and managed to deliver her daughter perfectly healthy. Never would she take that for granted, and she had a little trick up her sleeve to make sure you knew that.

"Amor, come to the lounge with me." She whispered, pairing it with a kiss to your bare shoulder beside your vest strap.

After a last moment of admiration, you nodded and allowed her to lead you to the living room, your hand in hers as you trailed after her. When you got there, she urged you to sit right in the middle of the sofa in front of the TV before she walked off to grab her laptop. She came back in a few moments later and turned the TV on, then mirroring her laptop screen to show up on the bigger screen. You watched it all with a curious frown, none the wiser to what you were about to see.

"I wanted to make something for us to remember the past year by." Alexia said, pausing as she searched for the right file. "It is also a gift from me to you because we should celebrate you too today. You gave birth to our little girl, and that is no easy feat. So this is just a small way for me to express my gratitude to you since words will never do you justice."

You'd be lying if you said your heart wasn't beating about a hundred miles an hour by now. Alexia hadn't even shown you what she had organised yet, but you had an inkling that in a few moment's time you would be emotionally ruined.

Alexia pressed play on the video she had pulled up and came to sit beside you. Before the first image had even come on, it was still just a black screen, you scrambled to find her hand and clutched it tightly in your lap.

In the next couple minutes, numerous photos and videos of your little family of three were displayed on the screen, a compilation of all the best documented moments captured within the last year. Some of them were taken by you obviously, but the larger majority of them were from Alexia's point of view and you had a sneaky feeling that was the point of it. A lot of the things in the montage you hadn't even seen, like the video of you singing a Spanish nursery rhyme to Anaís one night when she was still a newborn, or the picture of you fast asleep with Anaís on your chest with two fistfuls of your t-shirt, and way more of the same value that had you crying almost instantly.

Next to you, Alexia had a pensive look on her face, anxious as to what your thoughts were. Obviously she noticed you were crying, but she stayed unmoving until the video ended and you reacted first.

And due to a lack of better words in the moment, you accidentally give Alexia a momentary heart attack...

"Alexia, what the hell?" You cried, one hand over your eyes. The Spaniard froze beside you because out of all the thing she expected you to say, that was not one of them.

"Did you not like it?" She asked in an insecure voice, to which you turned to her in shock.

"No, I loved it, Ale." You told her, and she left out perhaps the biggest sigh of relief you had ever seen someone do. "Why did you do it though?"

"Because I just appreciate you so much, amor, and I need you to know that. Seeing you and watching you with Anaís is a magical thing to witness and I wanted you to see it through my eyes. It is the greatest honour of my life, being able to love you both. The second greatest honour is being alive to witness you with her." She explained earnestly, her free hand that wasn't held by yours coming to cradle your face. You leaned into it immediately, the image of you with your head tilted to the side with a soft pout and tears on your cheeks drove Alexia crazy. "Look at you! I can't get enough of you, you make me go crazy."

With a wet laugh, you raised a hand up to rest on the back of hers on your face and turned to kiss her palm.

"You drive me crazy with your grand gestures like you just did! You need to tell me who made that for you so that I can get them to do one for your Christmas present." You say, Alexia chuckling and shaking her head.

She manoeuvres you so that you're sat on her lap with your back to her chest, and she hugs you tighter than ever like that.

"You see what I see now?" She murmurs into your ear, and you're unsure if the hand that settles over your stomach is a subtle hint.

"What's that?" You wonder innocently, leaning your head back to rest against her shoulder. With you like that, she turns to place a few gentle kisses to the new skin on show.

"I see the most incredible, beautiful, and caring Mami in the world. One that loves so whole-heartedly, you leave an imprint on everyone you come across. When I first met you and I fell victim to that effect, I knew I had to have you. But I had no idea quite the impact you would have on my life. I find myself doing the stupidest things in the world just so I hear two people laugh." She huffs, grinning when she hears you giggle. "I also find myself loving the two most amazing people on the planet. These two people happen to love me too, and I have to think of myself as the luckiest person in the world to say that. My fortune far precedes my most ambitious dreams, because with you and Anaís in my life, what more could I want?"

Oh, what a fool you would be to deny her of that.

Later that same summer came the World Cup, and this time around it was held in Brazil. If it wasn't for Anaís, you would have of course tried to get over there for at least one of Alexia's games. But that would be too challenging and complicated to do with a one year old, so Alexia didn't even blink twice when you fearfully brought up that fact to her on one of the last nights you would spend with her before the summer turn of games started.

Before Alexia left though, you had a small present in store for her. The morning of the day she would be leaving, you were adamant at being the one to dress Anaís because there was a vital piece of her outfit that she needed to wear.

That key item was a Spain jersey of course, with Mami 11 printed on the back. So when you walked into the kitchen where Alexia ate her breakfast, she gave you a funny look at the weird way you were carrying Anaís. But that look was wiped off her face when you place Anaís on the ground for her to walk over to Alexia. The midfielder's jaw dropped as she noticed her daughter's shirt, but it wasn't until she spotted the detail on the back that she was overcome with emotion.

"Amor, you did this?" Alexia asked, abandoning her breakfast as she crouched down and held her arms out for a wobbly Anaís to wander over to her.

"I did." You replied proudly, watching as Alexia hugged her daughter tightly before turning her around so she could get a good look at her jersey.

"Dios mío, pingüino. Look at you." Alexia whispers in amazement, then she picks up Anaís and walks over for a family hug. "Thank you, thank you. That's amazing."

And of course, for every one of Spain's matches that tournament, you and Anaís were watching with your jerseys on in full support for Alexia. Before each game, you would take a photo of you both and send it to Alexia, which she told you was what empowered her to walk out onto the pitch for every game. You and your daughter missed Alexia of course, but it was much harder for her since she was halfway across the world from her family.

It was that much harder when her team were knocked out of the tournament in the semi-finals.

...But, when she arrived back to her hotel room later that night after that dreadful game, she sensed a spark of her excitement in her chest, because the loss meant she could come home. It meant she could finally see you and Anaís after what felt like a lifetime apart, and she focused all of her energy on that eagerness she felt instead of the effects of the defeat.

And the reunion was so worth it, because this time you and Anaís did greet her with a sign at the airpot this time, and the Spaniard all but collapsed into the arms of you both when she saw you.

You thought the biggest shock of your summer would be Spain getting knocked out in the semi-finals, but unbeknownst to you, there was a whole other storm coming.

After the World Cup, Alexia whisked you and Anaís away on a holiday to escape from the world and spend time together as a family without the pressures of life. But when you were lounging on one of the outdoor beds on the balcony of your hotel room one day of the holiday, you heard a statement you were not expecting.

"I'm going to retire from the national team."

Alexia was wandering aimlessly around the balcony, trying to bounce Anaís to sleep for her mid-day nap when she had said it.

"What?" You sat up and raised your sunglasses to look at her properly, wondering if you there was a chance you had heat stroke and may had hallucinated it.

"I said I am retiring from the national team." She repeated nonchalantly, as if she hadn't just revealed huge news.

"I'm not quite sure we're on the same page, Ale. Could you explain a little?"

With a chuckle, Alexia tugs Anaís' hat further down so that it blocks the sun from her eyes when Alexia sits on the edge of your sun bed.

"I have decided to step down from the national team, for good. I have much more interesting things to do with my time now." She shrugged, glancing down at her daughter. "When we get back from vacation, I have a meeting with the federation to tell them. Nobody knows, it's a decision I made for myself."

"Are you sure?" You're a bit speechless, caught off guard by the sudden admission.

"Very sure. I'm certain that this is what I want to do. I'm content with everything I've achieved for the team, so now is my time. I'm not ready to retire fully, that's a while off yet, but I don't want to spend so long away from you both again. It's just not worth it. I'm not missing that much of Anaís' life again." Alexia explains.

You take a moment to process the sudden declaration, before you lean forward to wrap an arm around her and hugging her carefully, mindful of Anaís in between you both.

"Well, I guess that's that. As long as you're sure, Ale, then there's not much to say. I'm grateful you've made that decision, who would I be to get upset at the fact we're going to have more time together?" You say, noticing the relieved smile on her face. "You don't want to, I don't know, discuss it a bit more? With anyone, doesn't have to be me. I just don't want you to regret it."

"No, I'm completely okay with it, amor. I think I had already made this decision before Brazil. It was something I needed to figure out on my own, and I have had long enough to process it and now I'm fine with it. I think I am actually excited."

Now that she mentions it, she does have a lighter look in her eyes, like this is a weight off of her shoulders. She had come back from the tournament with that look, and it irritated you that you couldn't figure it out at first, but now you completely understood it. You smile at her, filled from head to toe with pride and love for the woman in front of you, and you lean forward to kiss her softly.

"I'm happy to hear that." You whisper, and she can't help but lean back for more.

One more thing about parenthood to add to the list, was that children had the worst timing in the world.

"Oh no. Ay dios. I'm sorry, amor, I would really love to continue this but I need to go change her diaper right now."

Before you could open your eyes, Alexia was scurrying off into the hotel room, and you didn't even want to know what had just happened.

There soon came to be a very special occasion for Alexia, one she had been dreaming of for as long as she could remember. For some time now, you and Alexia had had multiple discussions about when Anaís would go to her first game, and finally the pair of you had landed on an option.

Barcelona were due to play in the final of the Super Cup in Madrid, and you, Anaís, and other members of Alexia's family were travelling to attend the game. You were beyond excited for it; since Anaís had come into your life, you had hardly been to many of Alexia's games, something you adored doing before you had a child to care for.

Alexia, on the other hand, was encumbered by nerves as she lined up in the tunnel for the game. She can't remember the last time she had been nervous for a match, so she didn't really know what to do with herself. For the few minutes she was in the tunnel, her mind was almost in overdrive - would Anaís be okay? You and her family were there for her, she had to be. Would she kick up a fuss? She was still only young after all. Would she hate the amount of people there and the noise of it all? Well, that one couldn't be possible because Alexia had bought some baby ear defenders that she demanded you pack, so at least there was one surefire solution. She couldn't spiral for any longer though because Cata shoved her from behind when the captain didn't move.

The game went off without a hitch, and when Alexia did her pre-match tradition as she hopped onto the pitch, her mind clicked into concentration. That didn't stop her from glancing up at the section of the stadium she knew her family was in though, desperate to catch a glimpse of her daughter. She finally did spot you both as she was walking off the pitch at half-time, almost melting on the spot when she saw you holding Anaís who of course wore a Barcelona jersey on top of her jumper so that she stayed warm. With an eager wave, she admired the view for a bit longer, before jogging off to the tunnel.

She was glad to find that her nerves didn't affect her performance, bagging two assists to help the team win 3-1. It was a great match to watch as a fan, and you were thrilled for Alexia and her team, and the cherry on the cake was the fact that Anaís had been no trouble at all throughout it. For about twenty minutes of the first half, she fell asleep, but was startled awake by the crowd (and you) when Barcelona scored their first goal. Since then, she had been wide awake, and as good as gold.

From your place in the stands, you watched on with pride as the trophy ceremony carried out, forever happy to see Alexia with a medal around her neck and a trophy in her arms.

But perhaps the most exciting moment of the day for Alexia was when you walked out of the tunnel a little while later with Anaís in your arms. Alexia ran over as soon as she spotted you, knowing this was the plan all along if Anaís had coped well. She laughed giddily as she approached you and wrapped you both up in a tight hug, flooded with pure happiness.

"Well done, Mami!" You grin, patting her cheek a few times before offering Anaís out to her.

"Mami!" Anaís shouted in Alexia's face, before her attention inevitably falls to the shiny metal hanging from her neck, She tries to pick it up, but it's a little heavy for her, meaning it thumps Alexia heavily in the chest.

"Oof, Anaís." Alexia huffs, taking off her medal and putting it around your neck instead.

"Ale." You roll your eyes, cheeks slightly red, and when you try to take it off her hand reaches out to stop it.

"Leave it, amor." She smirks, kissing you quickly as you go to argue again. Leaving you a tad flustered, she turns back to her daughter. "Oye, Anaís! What's that?"

The midfielder points to one of the footballs off at the side of the pitch, and Anaís' face immediately lights up.

"Ball!" She grins, reaching a grabby hand out towards it.

"You want to play?" Alexia wonders, going over to collect the ball and walking it further onto the field before placing Anaís down in front of it. "Kick it, chiqui!"

Rather unceremoniously, Anaís does kick it but not without falling afterwards. You laugh as she tumbles down, Alexia rushing over and doting on her.

"Ale, she'll be okay, don't stress her out." You tell her, to which she nods and rights her daughter again before coming back to your side. "She doesn't quite have your elegance yet."

"I know." Alexia snickers, and the pair of you follow to wherever Anaís toddles off to. "Look at her go though. Not really a waddling little pingüino anymore."

The nickname, 'pingüino', had come about back when Anaís took her first steps just after she turned a year old, and it had stuck since then.

"No, she isn't." You hum in agreement, throwing an arm around Alexia's waist as you continue trailing after your little girl. "Uh oh."

There wasn't any real danger when you uttered that, it was just Mapi.

"Hola nena! Wow, look at you!" Mapi ran over to her and swooped her up off the ground. "What name do you have on your back... oh, boo! Boring! I think you should have my name, sí Ale?"

"Over my dead body." Alexia grumbled, elbowing you when you laughed at her grumpiness. "That is an emergency shirt, we didn't have time for a name because we didn't realise her other one was too small for her jumper."

"Blah, blah, blah... no wonder you are always sleepy, Anaís, her talking is tiring me too!" Mapi teased, wincing dramatically at the disapproving huff Alexia gives. "Oh no, nena. We need to run. Let's go play before Mami kills me, huh?"

You shake your head at Mapi's antics and watch as she steals your daughter away to play football with her. Alexia has a subtle smile on her face, and you giggle quietly when you see it, knowing she's trying to act like the captain she is but can't resist the cuteness of her daughter.

"Cálmate, Capi." You bump your hip into hers, smirking when she looks down at you with a suppressed grin. Now you take the medal off and place it back around her neck, silencing her complaints in the same way she did to you earlier. "You have too many medals and trophies now, campeona, I'm not sure our house can stand the extra weight."

"Behave." Alexia muttered lovingly, pulling you in for a proper hug. "Thank you for coming, and thank you for bringing her too."

"Of course. I loved being at a game again, and Anaís handled it perfectly. She had a little nap in the first half but stayed awake for the rest of it."

"Really?" Alexia said, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise as her face contorted to one of shy excitement, an adorable sight to see.

"Yes, she did. She didn't cry once, she was very settled." Alexia nodded and casted her eyes back over to Anaís. "Told you she would love going to your games."

At that, she finally lets herself break out into a whole-hearted grin, and she hugs you tight to her side as you watch Mapi and a few others dote over Anaís.

"I need her at every game. She is my good luck charm." She mumbles, swallowing down the lump in her throat. "Mapi is going to injure our mija."

She wasn't exactly wrong on that part; Mapi had started passing the ball softly to Anaís and urging her to kick it, to which she did but not without falling over again. The defender can't help herself: she passes Anaís the ball over and over, and Anaís tumbles down each time. Mapi would burst out laughing, before helping Anaís up and giving her the ball once more. Luckily Anaís saw the humour in it too, giggling almost just as much as Mapi.

Alexia let it happen once more before marching over. You were a little out of earshot, but you saw Alexia pick Anaís up from the floor and brush off the grass from her clothes, then she turned to Mapi with an accusing point and most likely the sternest voice she could muster. From your viewpoint, you could tell Mapi was stifling yet more laughter, but she kept up the innocent act in front of her friend. And when Alexia turned away from her with a shake of her head, Mapi looked over at you with a huge grin that you matched, letting her know she wasn't actually in trouble like Alexia tried to establish.

"That woman is the bane of my life." Alexia complained when she came back over to you, a slightly damp and grassy child in her arms.

"Mm, you love her really." You retaliate, flicking a blade of grass off of Anaís' arm.

"So what." Alexia huffed, cradling Anaís closely to her chest and swaying a little. "Oh, dios. She's so grown up."

"I know." You pout at the sight of Anaís in her arms, now calm and a bit tired. "Already kicking a ball about."

"We must buy her some football boots soon." You shake your head and laugh.

"She's not even two years old yet."

"Doesn't matter, amor. Project Putellas starts now."

The night before Anaís' second birthday was a turning point to remember; you and Alexia, in the spur of the moment, agreed on having another child in the very near future. When she initiated the decision, you hadn't even hesitated to affirm your willingness to her. It was an easy choice for you because both of you had always wanted two children, but in the past two years the topic of making that happen had hardly been brought up. You knew the time would come, and now it was here.

For the rest of the time you spent preparing the cake for it to go in the oven, the pair of you revelled in the coy anticipation that lingered in the air. Separately, your minds were running wild with the limitless possibilities that could occur in the next few years, until you stood up from placing the tray in the oven and Alexia was there, gazing at you with the softest smile she could muster.

"Another baby, huh?" She commented quietly, taking hold of your hand.

"Apparently so." You matched her smile, both of you watching the other before Alexia pulled you in for a tight hug. "You sure?"

"Amor, que pregunta tan estupida." She said bluntly, making you laugh. "I have never been so sure of a decision before. I believe now is the time for us to have another, as long as you are sure."

"Oh, what a stupid thing to say." You teased her, grinning when she grumbled and lightly hit your waist. "I'm more than ready to have another."

"Hm, good." She smirks, and her hands travel a little lower on your back. "We can go try if you'd like?"

"Really?" You scoffed, swatting her hands away and stepping out of her grasp. "Come on. Help me make this icing. And don't make any inappropriate suggestions."

From that day on, the pair of you delve yourselves into the process of IVF again. After last time, you both were more than happy with it all and how the process goes, so you chose the reciprocal type again and were there for each other through it all once again. It was a little trickier trying to do injections with an investigative toddler who wanted to be involved with it too, never straying far from you two, but you made it work.

However, not all things can go to plan. Perhaps the first time with Anaís had been too good to be true, because conceiving this time was much more difficult.

Over and over, yours and Alexia's emotions were tugged from left to right, one day on cloud nine and other days plunged into the deepest melancholia. It was a ruthless and relentless cycle of hope, anticipation, disappointment and frustration. Your self-worth took a gut-wrenching blow each time, your mind overgrown with blame and guilt and inadequacy. But, as someone wise beyond their years once said, your fortune far preceded your hopes because each and everytime Alexia and Anaís were there to pull you back up out of your pit of darkness.

"Amor." Alexia whispered gently one morning, sitting beside where you lay in bed and placing Anaís in her lap. "Wake up, mija, it is a big day, we need y-"

"Mama! Up, now!" Anaís shouted, pushing against your shoulder.

"Anaís, no! That is not nice, I told you to be gentle. Gentle, sí?" Alexia scolds quietly, about to warn Anaís again when you rolled over with a tight-lipped smile on your face.

"Morning." You muttered, bracing yourself when you saw Anaís stand in Alexia's lap. "Oof, chiqui, good morning to you too."

"Feliz navidad, mis amores." Alexia said, resting a hand on Anaís' back as a reminder for her to stay calm.

"Christmas, Mama." Anaís grinned down at you, placing two heavy hands on your cheeks, smushing them together, and giving you a quick kiss.

"Mhm, happy Christmas, bebíta." You sat up and gave her a hug that lasted about a millisecond due to her very limited attention span.

"Anaís, why don't you go get your stocking from your room? We will open it in here." She didn't need to be told twice - she leaped off the bed, briefly scaring the life out of you and Alexia, before racing out of the room. Alexia turned to you when she left, looking over you with a watcful eye. "How are you, amor?"

The previous day, cruelly on Christmas Eve, you both had found out that the third IVF attempt had not resulted in a pregnancy. What should have been a day filled with fesitivies and joy and tradition, was instead another day of grieving. After you had gotten home from the appointment, Alexia had quickly dropped Anaís off at Eli's for the afternoon so that her full attention could be on you. Not much was said or done, this had occurred one too many times now for any words to be of gratification. You both just needed time together, away from any other worries, to be able to process it. The healing process wasn't a straightforward one, you didn't magically feel better this morning, but knowing what day it was made it just a tad easier.

"Not bad, but not great. I just don't want to think about it. For one day at least." You answered, and she nodded instantly.

"We can do our best. When that little rocket is around, I think we'll be swept off our feet." Alexia said, glad to hear even just the breath of laughter you give her. "Don't hesitate to tell me if you need a break though. You let me know how you're doing, alright?"

"I will. Thank you, Ale." You told her earnestly, offering a semi-genuine smile to her.

"Te amo mucho, siempre. Siempre, amor." Alexia whispered when she wrapped you up in her arms.

Then Anaís came steaming back in, her Christmas stocking dragging along behind her unceremoniously, and you giggle when Alexia tells her off for it. The little girl sassed back a reply and Alexia can't help but laugh too, helping her lift it onto the bed. Watching your daughter's face light up with every gift she opens and how she hugs you both tightly after every single one, it's hard to be enveloped by the gloom your mind tried to subdue you into. Anaís was the best gift of all, and if a second child wasn't meant to be, you still had this beautiful girl that made you numb to all the problems life threw at you.

In the midst of this ongoing IVF journey came Alexia's birthday, and to distract yourself from the difficulty of the past few months, you had set yourself and Anaís a project to do as a gift. It was a minor token of appreciation for the woman who had been nothing short of perfect throughout it all, forever there to lean on and pick up the pieces when you need her to.

The day had come for you both to show off what you'd done for her, and though you'd already spent the morning at home with Anaís and Alexia, as well as giving her a few other gifts, this was the part you were most looking forward to. And as you pulled up to the Barcelona training facilities where you would see your hard work for the first time before surprising her, it was safe to say you hadn't felt such excitement in a long while.

"So, frecas, are you ready to surprise Mami?" You smile at Anaís through the rearview mirror of your car just as you pull into a parking space.

"Mamiiii!" Anaís sings from her seat, her little feet swinging excitedly.

"Sí, Mami!" You repeat back, turning off the car before hopping out and walking to Anaís' door. "Vale, mi niña pequeña, what do we have to remember whilst we're here?"

"Be nice, hold your hand, and... smile!"

You laugh at that last one, because you and Alexia never have to remind her to smile as it's something she is always doing anyway. The pair of you love to tell her how happy she makes everyone around her with her cheeky smile, and from then she'd taken it upon herself to do it, somehow, even more often.

"Yes, everybody loves it when you smile." You tap her nose lightly, delighted to hear her giggle. "Do you remember how today is going to go?"

"Tell me?" Anaís asks as you help her out of the car.

"Yep, I can tell you." You reply, taking her hand and leading her to the reception. "We're going to be taken to an office where we can finally see the gift you made for Mami. Then we can give it to her, and maybe if you're up for it, we can have lunch with everybody. Are you excited?"

"Mhm." Anaís mutters quietly, indicating she was feeling a little uncertain about something. When you're away from the car park and outside the main doors, you turn to her and crouch to her height.

"What's up, mi chiqui? Is there something bugging you?" You question softly, taking both of her hands and squeezing them.

"Nervous." She admits, shuffling forward in a silent plea for a hug, which you immediately engage in.

"It's okay to be nervous, isn't it? Mami and I get nervous still and we're old." You joke, hearing her giggle slightly into your shoulder. "What's making you nervous?"

"The people." Anaís tells you, to which you nod understandingly.

"That's alright, thank you for telling me. There might be a lot of people today, most of them you will know though. They're all Mami's friends, aren't they?" She nods shyly when you move back to look at her face. "They are. You just stick with me and Mami when we see her, we've got you. Always. And if you don't want to stay for dinner, let me know and we can go home. Okay?"

"Okay." She smiles brightly up at you, an image you wished you could treasure forever, and you lean forward to kiss her forehead.

"Perfecta, mi amor. Venga!" You take her hand again and press the buzzer to be let into the building. "Do you know what Mami says when she gets nervous?"

"Mami asks for your besitos!" Anaís answers with a grin, catching you off guard. The question was more of a rhetorical one, but you had underestimated your daughter's cheekiness.

"Well, she does, but that's not what I was going to say." You laugh, cheeks red, opening the doors when they unlock. "Mami says that most of the time she doesn't need to feel nervous because the thing she was worrying about is never as bad as she thinks. Do you understand?"

"No." Anaís shrugs bluntly, again making you laugh as you lead her into the reception.

"Okay, chiqui, forget I spoke." You say with a light eye roll, the small girl giggling to herself beside you.

Signing both of you in, you make small talk with the receptionist who hands you two name stickers. Anaís was currently in a phase where she just could not get enough of stickers, so you gasp excitedly for her.

"Pegatina?" She looks up at you with a giddy face, politely snatching the sticker from you and putting it in the center of her sweater.

"Sí!" You smile at her excitement, and an idea comes to mind. You turn back to the receptionist with a plan. "Existe alguna posibilidad de que tengas una hoja extra de pegatinas en blanco? Mi chiqui los adora."

"Claro! Aquí tienes." The lady smiles brightly at you and hands over a sheet of blank stickers. She waves at Anaís, who returns the gesture shyly before you turn to her and show off the item in your hand.

"Mirar, Anaís! More stickers!" Your daughter gasps loudly at the surprise, gazing up at you like you'd just given her the best gift in the world.

"Gracias, Mama!" She squeals, moving to hug your leg tightly.

"No problem, mija. You can draw on them at dinner if you'd like." You say, ducking down to kiss the top of her head. "I'll put them away for now, Mami finishes training soon so we need to go."

With Anaís' hand in yours, you lead her through the building and towards the meeting room you had been informed to go through. Nowadays you were more than familiar with your way around the facilities, having been here numerous times, but you can tell Anaís is still a bit apprehensive. And as a result of yours and Alexia's healthy parenting habits, she didn't hesitate to tell you again.

"Mama, I'm scared." She says, tugging on your hand and coming to a standstill outside the office just as you go to open it.

"Scared about what?" You frown, bending down again and brushing a few wisps of her out of her face.

"Mami will not like her gift."

That broke your heart, because you could already picture Alexia's reaction when she saw what Anaís had done for her. You made a bet with Eli and Alba that she would cry when she received the gift, something they instantly agreed with.

"Anaís, I promise you, Mami will love her present. I know she will, you don't need to worry or be scared. She will really love them. I pinky promise." You hold her hand out for her to link fingers with you, and after a moment of careful consideration, she nods and seals the promise.

"Ready now." She says confidently, so you smile and stand up again.

Knocking twice, you open the door to find a few members of staff there - a few from Barça and a few from the team you'd worked with at Nike. In the middle of the table was the box that contained the surprise, and Anaís' eyes widened so far they almost bugged out of her head.

"There, Mama." She said in a loud whisper, the others in the room smiling brightly at her excitement.

"There they are! Let's go sit down and look at them."

You lead her to the table and sit down in a middle seat, keeping Anaís on your lap. One of the Nike staff talks you through them briefly, giving you an update on the process, and the whole time Anaís bounces giddily. She was getting a little antsy and you figured it was a bit of an odd situation for her to be in; sat in a room with unfamiliar people, one holding a camera to film the day, all whilst the thing she'd been desperate to see for over a month sat waiting in the middle. Somehow she had managed to keep the whole thing a secret, Alexia to your knowledge none the wiser about the whole thing. There were nearly a few slip-ups, but so far so good.

"Okay, that's all I think. You can look at them now."

Anaís grins as you reach for the box and pull it closer, putting it within reach for her to open it.

"Go on, Anaís, you can look."

You watch her face rather than look at the gift at first, your heart clenching at the utter joy and awe on her face as she lifts the lid off of the box. She lets out an adorable gasp, reaching a hand out and delicately picking up one of the things in there.

"Mama... I love them." She states, turning to look at you and showing off the item in her hand.

"They are amazing, aren't they? They came out perfect, wow." You take the other one out from the box, examining it closely. "Mami will adore them."

"When is she coming?" Anaís wonders, and you look up to the Barça staff.

"Training will finish any second now. They'll text when she's on h-" His phone pings as he speaks. "Ah, she is on her way now."

"Great! Anaís, let's put these back in the box so Mami can open it for herself." Anaís nods eagerly and carefully puts them back in, before turning and hugging you unexpectedly. "Hey, what's this for?"

"Mami will love her gift. I know it!" She squeals, pulling back and placing a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

"Thank you for that! How lucky I am to have such a kind, cute little girl, huh?" You smile at her, leaning forward to kiss all over her face. She squeals again and hides herself in your shoulder, pressing kisses of her own to your shirt. "Do you remember what to say when Mami walks in?"

"Umm... felicidades?" Anaís says, and you nod proudly.

"Perfect! Bien, mi niña."

No less then five minutes later, you can hear footsteps and a familiar voice coming down the corridor.

"-are you making me do media without showering? It was hot today, I'm all swe-"

Alexia cuts herself when she opens the door to see you and Anaís there. It's a far better surprise than media.

"What are you two doing here?" She asks with a huge smile on her face, frozen in place at the door.

"Say it, Anaís." You whispered in your daughter's ear.

"Felicidades, Mami." Anaís says shyly, and Alexia bounds over to her to pick her up and hug her tightly.

"Thank you, princesa! What a lovely surprise!" She exclaims, looking over at you for a bit of context.

"We have a better surprise for you. Come sit down." You tell her, patting the chair next to you.

Everyone else in the room stands back and watches, and Alexia takes her seat with Anaís curled into her side. With a quick kiss to her forehead, she gestures to the box in front of her.

"This?" She wonders, and before you could get a word in, Anaís pipes up.

"Open it, Mami! It is the best gift ever!" She urges, patting her leg to try and hurry her up.

"Alright, alright. Cheeky." Alexia tuts jokingly, reaching around Anaís to flick the lid open. Her jaw drops when she looks inside, and of all things in the world, she wasn't expecting them.

Inside, were two completely customised football boots, designed by Anaís with help from you and a team at Nike.

The design of the boots were fairly similar, except for a few tiny details that were special to each one. They were mainly white, and on each toe end of the boots were Anaís' hand prints in the blaugrana colours. Under the Nike tick on the outside of each boot were Anaís' initials with a penguin beside them. Additionally, under the logo on the inside of the boots were the words 'Vamos Mami' written in Anaís' squiggly handwriting. Every single detail, from the heartwarmingly poor stick figure drawing of Alexia on the back of the boots with the words 'My Hero' beside them, to the one of Alexia's favourite flowers and the other little contextual family inclusions, sent her into an emotional frenzy.

They were obviously majoritively designed by a small child, Anaís, but that was what made them so very special to Alexia. To her, they were probably the best gift she could've received purely based off of the sentimental value of them, and she had had tears in her eyes the moment she saw them.

"Anaís... wow." Alexia choked out, hastily wiping away one that slipped out. "You made these?"

"I did! Me and Mama!" Anaís claimed proudly, grinning up at Alexia and helping her to brush her tears away. But the sight of her crying confused her, and her smile quickly turned into a frown. "Oh. Not happy?"

"No, no, I'm so happy, Anaís, so happy. I love them so much that I'm crying, how silly?" Anaís giggled at her Mami, and the whole thing to you was ineffably adorable. "Oh wow. I really love them."

"Can you wear them for your games?" Anaís wonders.

"Well, I will, but only for my most important games. I don't want to ruin them and get them all muddy."

"We have a replica pair at home so you don't need to worry about that." You tell her, and she reaches over to take your hand, squeezing it gratefully.

"Thank you both. You really thought of everything." She shakes her head and sighs shakily, unable to tear her eyes away from them. "Anaís, is this a picture of me?"

Anaís giggles and nods as Alexia points to the stick figure of herself.

"I drawed it." Anaís says, and you stifle a laugh at the ridiculousness of the drawing. It is definitely easy to figure out it's done by an almost 3 year old.

"These are the best present I've ever got." It's then that she notices even the shoelaces are customised; red and blue hearts drawn by Anaís are patterned up and down the laces, and even the aglets of them have Anaís' name written there. "You both really thought of everything."

"We did our best." You affirm, leaning into her side when she holds her arm out. The arm of the chairs make it a little uncomfortable, but it doesn't take away from the moment.

"Tengo la mejor familia, eh?" Alexia whispers, kissing Anaís' forehead again, then your cheek. "Mis amores, are you staying for lunch?"

"Anaís was a little bit nervous about that earlier." You reveal, and the little girl nods sheepishly.

"Hey, that's okay! You can stay with me and Mama if you need to, everybody just loves seeing you smile, mi sol pequeña." Alexia says to Anaís, and the girl follows through immediately with her big, cheesy smile. "Exactly like that. Shall we go now? I'm hungry and I want to show off my amazing gift to everybody."

After that, the three of you make your way round to the cafeteria. Anaís sits on your lap throughout, eating a bowl of her favourite meal, tomato pasta, before drawing personalised name stickers for everyone she knows. Her tiny mind gets blown away when she finds out Mapi's last name means lion, so she of course has to sit with her for the rest of dinner to discuss such an outrageous topic. It gives you and Alexia a moment alone after it all, and she shuffles your chair closer so that she can whisper endless amount of soft words to you. She can't believe her fortune at having two people do such an act of kindness for her, and she makes sure the two of you know it.

The only thing is, those one of a kind boots aren't the sole surprise of the day. And the next one shocks you too.

Later that evening, as Alexia is in Anaís' room reading her a bedtime story and you do your skincare in the ensuite, something catches your eye in the back corner of the cupboard when you go to get your cleanser. It's a box you haven't paid any mind to since the first round of IVF for the second baby, as it had unfairly gotten your hopes up. But now it piques your interest too much, and whilst Alexia is busy elsewhere, you decide to do it.

You're not expecting anything, having been let down too many times, and that's why you scream so loud.

"Oh my fucking god!"

About half a millisecond later, Alexia comes running in with a disgruntled and half-asleep Anaís in her arms.

"What's wrong!?" She asks desperately, noticing your trembling shoulders as you faced away from her and your teary eyes in the mirror.

Slowly, you turn around, another hCG test in you hand.

"This s-says twenty-six, Ale." You stutter, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth.

The pair of you stare at each other in disbelief, eyes wide and jaws to the floor. You're probably an image to behold, with two under-eye masks on and spot cream dotted around your face, and Anaís in Alexia's hold looks less than pleased at the events that have occurred with her wild bed-head.

"It says what?!" Alexia cries out, breaking the stand-off and coming over to you so she can catch a look at it. "It does say twenty-six!"

"Ale..." You breathe out, looking up into her eyes and shaking your head. "I'm not falling for this again."

"Amor, don't start stressing. Let's take this as a good thing for now, and we will go to our appointment tomorrow like normal. Okay? Don't stress, please, this is a very good sign." Alexia reasurres you, wrapping an arm around you and rubbing your shoulder comfortingly. Anaís still has no clue what's going on, but she sleepily puts an arm around your neck too, always one for a family hug.

"Last time though, it gave us a good score and it ended up being nothing." You sighed, closing your eyes in her hold.

"But last time wasn't as high as this. This is much better, this is an amazing sign. The only thing we can do is wait to see the nurse tomorrow, okay?" You nod reluctantly, sighing in frustration and pulling away. "Is it alright if I go put Anaís to sleep? Or do you want her to stay with us for a bit?"

You look at your daughter in Alexia's arms and instantly make a decision; you could never deny cuddles with her.

"Take her to bed with us."

For a little while, the three of you cuddle closely together in your bed, a film of Anaís' choice playing on TV even though she had fallen asleep less than ten minutes into it. Once it had finished, Alexia went to put her in her own bed before coming straight back to you. You try to settle into sleep, but it evades you due to your clouded mind, and Alexia notices. She spends an unknown amount of time reasurring you, also talking about everything and nothing to sooth you, until you eventually do fall asleep. It takes a while for her to get to sleep too, but she does with a smile on her face.

And she was right to have that smile, because the next day at your already scheduled blood test with the nurse, it's confirmed that you are pregnant. The relief is overwhelming, because it's not just the fact that you are finally pregnant, it also erases all the doubt and guilt and whatnot from the past eight months, finally clearing your head from it all. It's a huge weight off of your shoulders, and an almost equally large on off of Alexia's because the heartbreak she felt everytime, not only when a transfer failed, but when you loathed yourself after each one was so heavy, it nearly broke her in two. But here you were, healthy and happier than ever with a baby growing and a smile on your face.

Being able to tell family and friends a little while after was an incredible experience, somehow even better than telling them about Anaís, because they all knew the struggles of the past months and how difficult it had been for you and Alexia. Your favourite part though was telling Anaís, even if it was a little anti-climatic, because she simply shrugged and said 'about time' before asking to go to the park.

There was one little worry. Not a problem with your health or the baby, but with Anaís. Because she was so excited about having a sibling, except she often would say...

"It better not be a boy." She would huff grumpily, and she would say it unprompted too whilst doing things like drawing a family picture and adding a baby to the tummy of your stick figure or as she played with her dolls.

And it was certainly a worry because the baby did end up being a boy. It was yours and Alexia's plan to tell Anaís the gender on her birthday, but after finding out it was a boy, that didn't seem like such a great plan. Out of fear of possibly ruining her birthday, you told her the day after, and it went much better than you expected.

"Will he play dolls with me? And like stickers? And like drawing?" She had asked after a few moments of silence.

"He probably will, yes." You responded.

"He might even like football too." Alexia grinned, and Anaís easily matched her with a cheeky smile of her own as you rolled your eyes.

"I guess that's okay then."

As you months rolled on and you moved from trimester to trimester, Anaís fell more and more in love with her little brother. She loved talking about him, as well as talking to him whenever she was given a chance, her hands moving around your bump to feel his little kicks. With each one-sided conversation she had, she would end it with a kiss and a whisper of 'hurry up, chico!'

Your hormones had kicked in a little stronger this pregnancy, because every time Anaís would interact with your bump, your reaction would range from a lump in your throat, to full on tears. Alexia loved it, teasing you every so often, but she quickly figured out her limits after your tears of joy at Anaís soon turned into tears of pain when the baby dealt you a hard kick to the ribs. The Spaniard's face immediately paled when you screamed at her so furiously, it sent Anaís running for the hills through the house. Thankfully, the next day, the little girl forgot all about the night's events, until one day a while later she brought it up in front of her Tía Alba, and your face turned red with embarrassment.

Your little boy decided to bring himself into the world a tad early in September that year, with a bit of a longer labour and more complicated birth. But, in the end, her arrived safely and healthily, and the same went for you. Alexia had sat there, biting her nails anxiously as the doctors did their checks, but they ultimately gave you the all-clear and the nausea left her stomach.

"We still don't have a name." You huffed tiredly when Alexia took him from one of the nurses and brought him over to you.

"That's okay. We will figure it out. For now, just look at his cute face." Alexia smiled brightly, sitting beside you carefully and showing him off.

"He is cute." You sighed contently, resting your head on her shoulder. This birth had thoroughly taken it out of you, and it was a miracle you were able to keep your eyes open.

"He is chubby." Alexia hummed, and she winced when you lightly slapped her hip.

"Be nice to him." You scolded her, but Alexia was just glad to see the smile on your face that you failed to fight back.

"I am being nice, he just has very big cheeks." Alexia defended herself, raising a hand to lightly run the back of her finger along his cheek, a gesture you remember her doing for Anaís.

He was clearly much more fed up with the day then Anaís was when she was born, because he was already fast asleep. His little mouth was open, and sometimes when he fidgeted in his sleep, his tongue would poke out momentarily. Alexia laughed quietly whenever he did as you watched them both, already absolutely infatuated with the sight.

"I can't wait for Anaís to meet him." Alexia stated, and you nodded in agreement. "Can we ring her? Or do you want to rest some more?"

"No, let's ring her. I miss her."

For obvious reasons, it had been over a day since you'd last seen Anaís, the longest you'd gone without being with her. Alexia passed your son over to you and got her phone out of her pocket, going onto it and getting up her Mami's contact.

"You're sure?" She checked, and you nodded.

Within three rings, Eli answered the FaceTime call, and before she could even speak, Anaís' face took over the whole screen.

"Is he here yet, Mami?" She asked quietly, and Alexia couldn't resist.

"No, not yet, I'm sorry chiqui."

"Ale! Don't be mean, tell her."

As soon as Anaís heard your voice, she gasped excitedly, hoping she had correctly interpreted your words.

"He is here?"

"He is. There he is." Alexia turned the camera so that you and the baby were in view for Anaís to see, and her face was adorable.

"Oh my... he is so cute." She whispered, noticing he was asleep and speaking as quietly as she could. "I love him."

"You do?" Alexia said, her heart filled with more love than she ever thought possible.

"I really love him." Anaís smiled brightly. "Is Mama okay?"

"Yes, I'm okay, thank you mi niña. I am very, very tired, but I'm alright." You told her, and she nodded, glad to hear it.

"Does he have a name?" You shook your head and saw her eyes light up. "I have a name!"

"Go on." Alexia prompted her, not really expecting anything that could be a good suggestion.

"Oriol!" Anaís said proudly.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, wondering where on earth she got that from, but happy with it nonetheless. It was already on the name list you and Alexia had, and it was actually one of your favourites. But the pair of you just couldn't choose, so you decided to shortlist a few and to wait and see until he is born. Oriol was indeed a name on the shortlist.

"Yes, that is a good name." You nodded, looking at Alexia to see what she thought.

"I really like that name, well done chiqui." Alexia replied, and the pair of you share a glance.

Speaking with Anaís for a little longer, you both notice her getting progressively more tired as it got closer to her bedtime. With the promise that she can visit tomorrow, you say goodbye to her and let her take one final look at her brother before she goes to the room she was staying in at Eli's. You stay on the phone with Eli for a few moments, smiling at all the praise she offers you, before she bids you both farewell and hangs up.

"So..." Alexia started, looking down at your son. "I think we have a solution to our problem?"

You look down at him too, knowing what Alexia was talking about, and nod.

"I think we do."

When Anaís visits the next day, she hugs you and Alexia tightly first, having missed her two favourite people in the world for the short time she was away. Then, Alexia gets the baby out of the hospital cot and shows him to her, and she's fascinated by him. She quickly has a moment of overwhelming excitement, and she jumps around on the spot away from him so that she can, in her own words, 'get it all out' before she holds him.

Sitting on the chair beside your bed, pillows scattered around her, Alexia carefully places him in her arms that hold him securely. Unsurprising to you, you immediately well up at the sight, wanting to burn the image into your mind forever. She makes sure she holds him properly, asking Alexia every so often if she's doing it right, before she leans down and kisses his hat-covered head softly. Alexia shows her a special 'trick', where she offers her finger out to the baby and Anaís gasps quietly when he wraps his hand around Alexia's finger. The moment only forces more tears out of you, and Alexia looks up at you and flashes you a teasing smile. Her attention is drawn away from you not a second later when Anaís asks something.

"Does he have a name yet?"

Just like last night, you and Alexia share a glance, before you turn back to Anaís.

"His name is Oriol."

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas imagine #woso fic #woso imagine #woso #woso community

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niningtori · 1 month

Text

supermodel | oneshot

part two

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after beomgyu ghosts you after three (what you thought were) really successful dates, your close friend asks you if she can date him instead. you, being the pushover you are, say yes. but beomgyu's not done bothering you.

genre: romance, angst, smut (MDNI!!!)

warnings: MDNI!!! cheating (but it's lowkey justified if you ask me), unprotected sex (no!), oral (f. receiving), creampie, dacryphilia, praise, degradation, manipulative!beomgyu if you squint (lmk if you catch it lmao), if i missed anything lmk

word count: 6k (ouuu... definitely not 13k i'm sorry anon my love)

notes: ...hi. so, as most of my followers know, i primarily write angst. this is my first time ever posting smut on here and i genuinely don't know if it's any good. if it's bad,,,, i'm sorry in advance!! see ending for more notes :)

you do not like beomgyu. you don't like the way he keeps his hair so long, or the way he tucks it behind his ears when he's focused. you don't like that he has the same music taste as you and how much of a snob he is about it. you don't like the way he laughs obnoxiously loud and you especially don't like the way his cheeks dimple like little whiskers when he does it. no, you don't like beomgyu one bit.

it hasn't always been like this. there was a time, albeit brief and fleeting, that you really liked the aforementioned grievances you've grown to hate so much. in fact, you liked them so much, you even liked the boy himself. that ship has sailed, though. and it sails further and further as you watch him cuddle up even closer to one of your closest friends, hana. you aren't a bitter person, really. you're usually pretty laidback, all things considered, so when hana asked you if she could date the boy who ghosted you after three (what you thought were) really successful dates, you said yes.

do you regret agreeing? well, how can you regret it when hana looks so happy? in fact, she looks happier than ever as beomgyu discreetly places his hand on her inner thigh. oh man. you think you're gonna be sick.

meeting beomgyu was like a meet cute in a romcom. you were alone in a cafe (cliché, but true) when he pulled up a seat and sat next to you. he was cute, he was charming, and, most surprisingly, he was actually really funny. he made you giggle more than once and you almost couldn't believe someone so seemingly perfect wanted anything to do with you, but he did. he was extremely eager, if anything, because as soon as you gave him your number, he texted you asking if you wanted to go out sometime. you, with your innocent heart, could only agree.

your first date was at that same cafe. he had memorized your order, even though he had only met you once, and you felt so flattered your heart skipped a beat. you're a little on the shyer side, but he was able to pull you out of your shell with ease. you'd later find out he has the ability to do that with everyone, but back then, you were amazed by how naturally he pulled it off.

after your first date, you'd texted all your friends about it. they asked for pictures and details, but you said it was too early and you didn't want to jinx it. you're the type to try not to get too caught up in the moment in favor of being more realistic, so it had been a pleasant surprise for most of your friends to hear how excited you were. this could really be something special, you thought.

and special, it was. your second date had been at a nice restaurant you'd never heard of. beomgyu was pulling out all the stops for you and spared nothing when it came to giving you the royal treatment. he was courteous and kind, but still mischievously flirty. you were enamored with everything about him. you were used to being treated kindly on dates, of course, but you had never seen anything quite like beomgyu. it seemed like he couldn't get enough of you, which was a novel feeling, though totally welcomed.

you finally felt confident enough to tell your friends all about him. when asked, you had no problem divulging all the finer details of your dates. you had nothing but praises for him, and even sent one of his instagram pictures to show off his good looks. most of them were taken aback at how handsome he was. hana, however, was not at all surprised. it shocked you to find out that she knew beomgyu, and knew him well. she had floated in the same circle of friends with him in college and you were pleased to find out that he had always been a really nice guy, if a little flighty at times, but he had never been that way with you. plus, it seemed to you that he had matured quite a bit. for once in your life, you got your hopes up. but, like most things, you would come to regret it.

your third and final date had been simple enough. he had asked you to come hang out at his place, but said his friends would likely be coming and going. it was nice. it was intimate. his apartment was small and a little messy, but filled with personality. you smiled when you saw polaroids he had taken of (and with) his friends adorning his bedroom walls. he seemed really sentimental, actually, but you liked that about him. you liked everything about him, really.

so when he leaned in for a kiss while watching some dumb old slasher flick, you closed your eyes and prepared to meet his warm lips. this was real. you would have a boyfriend, a near perfect one. and he liked you. he really, really liked you. what more could you ask for? but you never expected that a phone call would pull you out of your daze. you checked the caller id and immediately became worried. hana very rarely called you, but she said she was having an emergency and you, being the good friend you are, had to bail on beomgyu. the emergency in question was her having a meltdown over some guy she had never even mentioned, but had apparently really liked. you had no choice but to go to her place, bringing a tub of ice cream and all of her favorite snacks in tow. beomgyu said he understood, because of course he did, and said he would text you with other plans.

when he, in fact, did not text you first with plans, you had opted to text him yourself. you figured he had just forgotten or something, so you simply greeted him and apologized again for having to leave. it seems so fucking stupid to you now — the way you waited so anxiously by the phone for a reply that would never come. you remember staying up all night and jolting every time your phone buzzed. you were anxiously awaiting a text, a call, fucking anything, really. but it was pointless. after a few days of radio silence on beomgyu's end, you had pretty much resigned yourself to the fact that he would never respond. what did you do to scare him away? you thought you had done everything right, but you must’ve come on too strong or something. you felt utterly humiliated.

you were in your head again. it wouldn't surprise you if you had imagined the whole fucking thing, actually. but a few weeks later, hana had texted you asking if you were okay with her dating the boy you'd been waiting for. she seemed so hopeful and so happy, how could you say no? just because it didn't work out between you two didn't mean that it couldn't work out between them. maybe, deep down, the ugliest parts of you kind of hoped it wouldn't, but when she texted you with all the filthy details of the first time they hooked up, you knew you were thinking too highly of yourself.

beomgyu doesn't like you, and even if his refusal to text you back wasn't enough of an indication that that's the case, his attitude towards you while dating hana tells you everything you need to know. the way he manages to antagonize you over what would normally be completely menial things should be studied. when you trip over your words, he makes a point to call it out and laugh, which results in you, of course, tripping over your words even more. when you look like shit, he makes sarcastic comments along the lines of "oh i see you've decided to really doll yourself up this evening". what's worse is you're so non-confrontational, you just let him chirp.

what you don't know is that the more unbothered you look, the more eager he is to elicit a reaction out of you. it drives him crazy how nothing seems to drive you crazy, so he pushes and pushes, but it's like a fist landing on cotton. he's on the brink of madness trying to get you to say something, anything. but you never do. you just smile or shake your head and it's all he can do not to snap.

you’re at your favorite bar when you meet him. you’re not alone, or at least you shouldn’t be, but hana has gone outside to make a call. usually, you’d be the first one to accompany her, but you’re honestly not in the mood to hear her flirt with beomgyu (or beomie bear, as she calls him) over the phone. you never are, really, but especially not now as you down another shot of whatever the bartender has deemed as “the strongest shit they’ve got.” you don’t think you look particularly attractive at the moment, but when jay sees you, he’s flocking towards you.

“hey,” he says with a smile as he slides onto the stool next to yours.

“hey,” you reply shyly. are you imagining things or did he seriously just blush at your answer?

“i-i’m jay.” you can’t help but giggle at how nervous he seems. cute.

you take the time to introduce yourself and jay seems relieved that you’re actually receptive to his awkwardness. you like the way it feels to be in control for once. you like the way it feels to be wanted so much. so when he asks you if you want to go out in the near future, you say yes.

in the midst of your conversation, hana comes sauntering back in with a dopey grin on her face. she has, no doubt, just gotten off the phone with beomgyu if her satisfied expression is any indication. her satisfaction turns into surprise when she registers who’s sitting next to you.

“jay?!” she exclaims, taken aback by the familiar boy next to you.

“hana? oh my god, how are you?” he asks, standing up and pulling her into a hug. “we went to college together,” he explains when they part. your previous happiness crumbles in an instant. the nasty part of you wonders if she knows fucking everybody you’re interested in, but you shut it down mercilessly. it's not hana’s fault she's so likable. it's your fault for not being more so, actually.

“i’m good,” she says with a light giggle. they catch up for a moment before she drops an atomic bomb. “you know, i’m actually with beomgyu now.”

“damn, really? i thought that would never actually happen,” he replies, genuine shock falling across his sculpted features. your interest can’t help but be piqued at this.

“what makes you say that?” she asks rather defensively. jay can tell he messed up from her tone and he backtracks immediately.

“o-oh nothing. i just never pegged you two as compatible, but congratulations! i know you’ve liked him for a long time.” ?... ??...???? what the hell?

“what is he talking about?” you can’t help but ask confusedly. hana looks thoroughly reddened as she fumbles for an explanation.

“i-i liked beomie back in college. n-nothing major!” she stammers. you can do nothing but stare. she liked beomgyu and she never told you? well, you were half in love with the boy after three dates and you’re still half in love with him, actually, so it’s not particularly surprising that she fell for him, but the fact that she never mentioned it feels iffy at best. jay can sense the tension, and he cleverly excuses himself with:

“shit, my friends are here. i’ll text you soon?” he says, looking to you for confirmation. you manage to muster up a smile and a nod, but you’re still disturbed by this revelation.

“... are you mad?” hana asks tentatively.

“n-no. of course not!” you say with conviction, but deep down, you know you’re uncomfortable. she probably knows it, too, but she doesn’t pry much further.

“i’m glad you’re not mad,” she sighs. “anyway, it’s not like you’re dating him now.” she pokes at the sore spot on your heart with ease. maybe if she were more sober, she’d see the hurt on your face, but as it is, she doesn’t register a thing.

so hana liked beomgyu back in college? why hadn’t she told you? well, you guess it doesn’t make a difference now. she’s with him. you’re not. what else is there to say, really? but in the back of your mind, gears start turning. you just don’t know it yet.

hana has been a lot nicer to you than usual after that night at the bar. she’s always nice, but she seems hellbent on making sure your prospective date with jay goes well. you suppose it’s her way of making it up to you for withholding her secret crush on beomgyu from you. to be honest, there’s no real reason for her to do so, but you accept her kindness graciously. now, the night before your big date, she’s practically hounding you with questions.

“what are you gonna wear?” she asks over the phone.

“mmm, i dunno yet,” you hum into the speaker. you really don’t know. jay invited you to a house party, which is not the most romantic place in the world, but hana convinced you that he’s just awkward and a group setting (with drinks, no less) would loosen him up. you realize that you want to impress him. you want him to think you’re the most beautiful girl in the room, but nothing you have in your closet quite fits the bill.

“ooh, i know! you can just borrow one of my dresses. what about the black one? the one you complimented last time we went out! i won’t be home tomorrow night, but i’ll leave the key under the mat, okay? so just come grab it when you’re free!” she sounds proud of herself for coming up with that. you don’t have the heart to tell her it’s a little too scandalous for you, so you grit your teeth and accept her peace offering.

“mmm, yeah. that sounds good. thank you, hana,” you reply.

“pay attention to meeee,” you hear a deep voice cut in from over the phone. beomgyu. you try not to think about the way your heart aches when you hear him (very loudly) plant a kiss on… some part of her body. you’re not exactly sure where it is, but you falter when you hear her reaction.

“beomie, ah, not there,” hana moans and you feel a pang in your chest. “hey, i’ve gotta go, okay?” you don’t have to imagine what they’re about to do and it hurts.

“okay,” you say with a bitter smile, but the call drops before you can even reply.

it’s finally the night of the date and you’re anxious, to put it mildly. you don’t know how long you spent trying to get your hair and makeup right, but an ungodly amount of time has passed. you’re almost tempted to skip getting the dress from hana’s apartment, but you really don’t have anything else that suits the occasion, so you begrudgingly hail a cab over to her place.

you enter her apartment and head toward her bedroom, where the pretty black dress is waiting for you. with a sigh, you strip out of your sweats and shimmy into the dress. you look in hana's bedroom mirror and you have to admit that you look pretty good. you feel a lot more confident going out with a guy as handsome as jay now. as you’re fixing up your hair one last time, you’re stunned to hear the apartment door opening. she’s home? weird, but welcome. you need a second pair of eyes on you.

“hey! how do i look?” you say with a smile as you exit her bedroom, but you’re not greeted with hana’s smiling face. instead, you’re met with beomgyu’s frown.

“w-what are you doing here?” you ask, genuinely surprised.

“this is my girlfriend’s apartment. what are you doing here?” you thought he had heard over the phone that you’d be here to pick up the dress tonight. but then, you supposed that he may have been a little preoccupied sucking the skin off of hana to really pay attention to much else. you’re so busy over analyzing this, you don’t even notice how intently beomgyu is staring at you now. even if you did, you’d probably misread it as ridicule rather than what it truly is.

“nothing, i-i’m on my way out,” you reply simply. with that, you start trying to walk past him. before you can, though, he’s asking you questions.

"you're seriously going out with him? in that, too?” he asks, disgust apparent. at least, that’s what it sounds like to you. your eyes survey your own attire and you feel extremely small in this moment, all things considered. normally, you'd shut down and second guess yourself. maybe you do look a little ridiculous in this tiny dress and maybe going out with jay is a bad in idea. maybe he's just fucking with your head and maybe he'll toss you away just like beomgyu did. maybe, maybe, maybe. but then? maybe not. and even if he does, you don't want to hear any of that shit from beomgyu of all people.

"oh, fuck you, beomgyu."

he looks perfectly scandalized by your comment. you’ve never talked back to him before, and certainly not like this. his eyebrows raise and his jaw drops before he can finally choke out the words "e-excuse me?"

"i said fuck you. i really don't give a shit about what you have to say anymore."

you're again trying to barrel past him but he steps in front of the door, scowl etched into his pretty features.

"what? are you mad at me now?" you say mockingly. "well, you don't get to be mad at me. move."

it is genuinely amazing to see beomgyu as he is now. he looks like a child who's floundering for a comeback.

"w-why are you mad? i'm just looking out for you!" oh, you can't help but laugh in his face at that one. he winces when you do.

"my god, that's rich coming from you. what's the worst that could happen? we go on a couple of dates and then he ghosts me? can't say it hasn't happened before."

"th-that's different!" he sputters, face flushing beet red.

"different how?!" you counter. he’s such a fucking hypocrite. you're not the type to get so riled up, but his words have you seeing red. his next words, even more so.

"you... you don't even like me!"

"and why exactly would i like the man who ghosted me, again? you can kick rocks for all i care!" you try to steady your breathing. blowing up like this right before your first date with jay can't be good for your head. luckily, it seems like beomgyu is still fishing for words when you regain your composure. "whatever. i'm done. goodbye, beomgyu." you reach around him for the door handle, but he slams it shut.

"what the fuck?!" you exclaim exasperatedly.

"you don't understand," beomgyu says, voice trembling and eyes scarlet. "hana said you didn't like me."

"hana? what does hana have to do with — oh." oh.

"she said you didn't like me and thought i was obnoxious. she told me she called and interrupted our date because you wanted her to.”

“why didn’t you just ask, beomgyu? i liked you!” you exclaim. he ruined everything all because of a few words from someone else?

“why would i ask when hana told me that you didn’t want anything to do with me?”

"so you believed hana instead of just opening your fucking mouth? what, does she wipe your ass and spoon feed you, too?

“watch your mouth,” beomgyu says lowly.

“or what?” you taunt with a smirk. “you’ll be mad? is beomie bear gonna lose his temper?” you’re on your tiptoes now, face mere inches away from his. where you got the confidence to provoke the man who towers over you even on the worst of days, you have no idea, but the idea of seeing beomgyu squirm is lighting a fire in you you didn’t know existed. is he gonna hit you? scream in your face? you’re excited to see how he reacts. when his gaze flickers from your smiling eyes to your lips, you don’t even get half a second to question his odd look when his lips come crashing down onto yours.

his big hands grip the back of your head, holding you in place as he punishes your lips with a force you’ve only ever dreamt about. his lips are chapped and you can taste a hint of his favorite lip balm, which he had smeared on just before his arrival. you’re too shocked to move, you’re too shocked to do anything besides gasp when he bites your bottom lip. he takes your open mouth as permission to shove his warm tongue into it. you want to say the kiss is full of fire, and it is, but there’s an overwhelming sense of gentleness, too. it’s hard to put into words, so instead of trying to, you let yourself melt into the feeling. he takes your acquiescence as a sign to go even further. at this point, he’s practically dragging you over to the couch. you’re surprised at how you don’t even attempt to resist when he pushes you down. you’re seated now and he licks his lips hungrily as he lifts your pathetic excuse for a dress off of your body and tosses it somewhere behind the couch. his eyes alight with something akin to raw anger when he takes note of the fact that you are, in fact, not wearing a bra.

“you were seriously gonna go out like that? what a whore,” he says menacingly. you’re now clad in nothing but your favorite pair of underwear. you would usually feel insecure in front of such an intense gaze, but beomgyu looks at you like he wants to devour every part of you. and he will, with time.

“i thought jay would like it,” you shrug. his eyes burn even brighter and he looks like he’s on the brink of snapping. god, fucking with him is so exhilarating. is this how he feels when he’s trying to get under your skin? maybe you do understand why he antagonizes you, actually. this shit feels amazing.

he kneels down before you and possessively kisses your neck until it's numb — pouring out hot kisses and sucking on the skin there like he’s staking his claim. it’s almost like he’s daring another man to touch you, and he doesn’t have to say anything because it’s like you already understand his intentions, and you revel in it.

his lips travel down to your breasts and they almost ache in anticipation. cruelly, he avoids your pert nipples and opts to circle his tongue around them, sucking on the soft skin and leaving marks in his wake. one of his hands move down to your underwear and he stops his teasing when he feels how wet you are.

“j-jesus, is all this for me?” you’re too embarrassed to respond. he’s trying to keep his cool, but he’s taken aback by how soaked you are. he was already hard just from the kiss alone, but now he aches. he slides your underwear to the side and actually groans when he sees your slickness for himself. slowly, teasingly, he finds his way to your clit and you let out a soft gasp when he finally touches it. you’re unable to stifle a moan when he gingerly takes one of his long, calloused fingers and begins to push it into your cunt.

“t-tight!” he hisses. “how am i gonna fit?” you’d roll your eyes in annoyance at his self-aggrandizing words if you could muster up anything other than the feeling of pure bliss as he slides another finger in. he’s kneeling between your legs, and you feel some sort of sick satisfaction as you watch the boy lick his lips before trailing opened-mouth kisses on your thighs as he inches closer and closer to your cunt.

you feel his cool breath against your core and you’re seconds away from begging him to continue, but he seems even more eager than you are as he quickly buries his face into your heat. his first lick is long and slow, but you can feel the vibrations from his moan and it reverberates through your legs all the way to your toes. as if he’s a man starved, he messily licks and sucks on your pussy while pumping his fingers in and out mercilessly. you have to hold onto his long hair, not because you want to hurt him, but because it’s the only thing keeping you sane. when he hooks his fingers, you can’t help but call out his name.

“b-beomgyu!” his darkened eyes snap up to meet yours while his pace becomes even more punishing and, before you know it, you’re spasming around his fingers. he should stop there, but he continues with little kitten licks until you’re begging him to show you mercy.

he reluctantly parts from your cunt and you can see evidence of your release dripping down his chin. his messy hair, his soaked face, his fucking everything looks like it’s been branded by you and you can’t help but gulp, heat pooling in your stomach again, far too soon after your intense orgasm. usually, a man would wipe his face and clean himself up, but he does nothing of the sort as he leans towards you and practically pleads with you to kiss him.

“so good, want you to taste it,” he says simply as he pulls you in for another filthy kiss. he looks possessed, almost, by your taste. by your scent. by you.

your cum mixed with the taste of beomgyu himself is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. he wraps his tongue around yours, as if he’s selflessly just trying to share this new discovery.

he unbuckles his own pants like a madman, hastily yanking them down. so hypnotized, he doesn’t even think to take them off all the way, nevermind his shirt. his cock springs up and it’s thick and long, the angry veins juxtaposing from his perfect, doll-like face. he was right. you don’t know how he’ll fit in your tight pussy.

still, he ruts his bare cock against your throbbing cunt and you both moan when it accidentally catches against your entrance.

“c-condom?” you ask breathily.

“p-please, please just let me feel you. i can pull out,” he whines. who are you to say no to a man begging?

“...o-okay,” you begin to choke out, and almost before you can even finish, he’s pushing himself in. you both groan at the feeling. he meets resistance before he’s even halfway in and his eyes redden with a lust so strong it almost scares you.

“s-so tight, so perfect for me,” he says before pulling out and harshly ramming himself back in, sheathing himself completely in you. your eyes begin to sting with pure pleasure. he sits for a moment, just enjoying the way your pussy sucks him in. nothing in your life has ever made you feel this heavenly. not that you’re going to heaven, especially after this, and certainly not if hana has anything to say about it. oh my god, hana.

“w-wait,” you interrupt before he can pull out again. “we can’t! hana—”

“don’t give a fuck about hana. j-jus’ want you,” he slurs with that lisp that you love so much. and that’s when he really starts. ruthlessly, he sets his pace. ramming into you as the filthy sounds of skin against skin and slick against slick permeate the room. his head lulls back in sheer ecstasy and you’re crying out his name over and over, like a mantra. it’s the only thing chaining you to reality. that, and his viselike grip on your thighs.

“so g-good, so warm. never h-had a pussy this good before,” he praises as he continues drilling into you. one of his hands snakes its way to your clit and you’re seeing stars. hot tears spring in your eyes and you’re literally crying as his cock pushes you further and further off the deep end.

“so fucking good for me. you wouldn't even care if i came inside, would you, slut? walking around in that tiny dress, just begging to be fucked.”

“n-no! i’m not begging f-for anything,” you manage to choke out.

“really? but you look pretty fucking desperate right now. should i stop?” he asks with a mean smile, slowing down the speed of his hips snapping into yours.

“please don’t! i-i’m sorry. please don’t stop!” you whimper. he wasn’t gonna stop, anyway, but watching tears pour out of your eyes at the mere thought of his cock not being inside of you brings him to another level of smugness.

“shh, it’s okay, baby. i won’t stop. i’ll give you exactly what you need.”

“b-beomie!” you cry. “not gonna last much longer!”

“me neither, pretty girl. fuck, come with me, okay?” he hisses.

“come inside?” you plead. he almost stills at this, but his brutal pace never stops despite it all.

“fuck! i knew that good girl act was a sham. you want me to get you pregnant so everyone knows who you belong to?”

“yes! d-don’t care. just want you,” you whine, mirroring his words from earlier. that’s enough to make him lose himself. his resolve snaps and he’s painting the inside of your walls while you helplessly clench around him. it takes a minute to catch your breath and you can’t help but lock eyes with beomgyu as he stays buried in your warmth. his gaze is still lustful, that much you know, but there’s an unknown feeling teeming in his eyes, too.

gingerly, he pulls out and you both watch as his cum trickles out of you. his eyes are alight with fascination and you don’t doubt for a second that he wants to lap it all up and feed it right back to you, but he doesn’t. he simply grabs your cheeks and pulls you in for another heavy kiss.

“wanted to do this for so long,” he says after you part.

“how long?” you can’t help but ask.

“since i saw you sitting alone at the café,” he shrugs and smiles shyly. he’s wanted you since he first saw you, which is enough to make you grin, but the blissful smile is wiped off of your face when you remember beomgyu isn’t just some random guy who’s attracted to you. he’s hana’s boyfriend.

you know now that she orchestrated the downfall of your relationship with beomgyu, but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel guilty as hell for fucking her boyfriend on her couch. oh my god, what have you done? you fucked your friend’s boyfriend in her own home. not only that, but you fucked raw and even let him come inside. you shiver when you recount his nasty words about getting you pregnant, and he really might’ve. you’re not on the pill or anything. oh god.

“i-i need to get out of here,” you say frantically. you hurriedly push him off of you and wince when you feel his cum leaking out of your cunt. you stumble to the bedroom, legs still weak from what just transpired, and grab your sweats and snake them back on.

“what are you doing?” beomgyu asks, confused and somewhat annoyed that you’ve effectively ruined the mood.

“i’m getting the fuck out of here. this… this whole thing was a mistake,” you say, on the verge of tears. you don't even deserve to cry, honestly, but you want to, anyway.

“a-a mistake? why? wait, don’t go!” he says, stepping in front of you again.

“beomgyu, are you fucking with me? you’re with hana! why wouldn’t this be a mistake? oh my god, and i-i’m not — i don’t take birth control. we really might’ve… fuck just move, please!” you plead. you think you might be on the verge of a panic attack, tears and snot streaming down your face. you just wish he would fucking move so you could get out of here and start fixing everything because the guilt you feel just by seeing his face is all-consuming. there’s no way you can face hana again after this. you’ll cut her out of your life, and when you’re courageous enough, you’ll tell her what you did to her. you’ll lose hana and all the rest of your friends once they hear about what kind of person you really are. and as for beomgyu, well, knowing hana, she’ll stay with him and you’ll be the homewrecker in this story.

“hey, shh, it’s okay,” beomgyu coos softly, taking your tear-streaked face in his big, warm hands. “talk to me. what are you thinking?” “i… i ruined everything,” you begin with a sob. “i hurt hana. you hurt hana. a-and everybody’s going to be so fucking mad at me. god, she’s never going to forgive me.”

“listen,” he says softly while rubbing the pads of his thumbs against the tears falling down your cheeks. “she lied to you, and she lied to me, too.”

“because she loves you, beomgyu. she only did it because she loves you so much,” you argue, tearing your face from his grasp, but he only locks his arms around your waist instead.

“and what about me? what about how i feel?”

“what are you trying to say?” you sniffle.

“i’m saying i meant it when i said i don’t give a fuck about hana. i’m sorry, but i don’t. i never did,” he says as if he’s coaxing a child. you want to believe his words so fucking badly, but you’ve seen the way they’ve been attached at the hip these past few months and you can’t help but feel like he’s just a) full of shit and/or b) pussydrunk on you. he can sense your apprehension and wants to tear his own hair out in frustration.

“can i be honest with you?” he asks.

you nod in response.

“i… i only started hanging out with her because i knew she was close to you. i don’t know if it’s because i wanted to get back at you or if i just wanted to see you more. maybe a bit of both, honestly. i-i know that’s wrong, but it’s true.” you’re at a loss for words. all you can ask is:

“why?” he chuckles at this.

“because i like you, dummy,” he says sweetly while releasing one of the hands that grips your waist, using it to fix up your hair. he likes you? the same beomgyu who has effectively harassed you for the past few months… likes you?

“you have a fucking hilarious way of showing it. i thought you hated me,” you retort.

“i was just teasing,” he says softly. “i just wanted you to notice me and nothing i did ever seemed to bother you.”

“well, it did,” you scoff.

“i’m sorry,” he says sheepishly. “i just like you a lot, okay? i’m sorry for being an asshole. and i’ll make it up to you, i promise.” you want to say okay, but the fact remains that he’s still very much hana’s boyfriend. regardless of his feelings, you still betrayed her and your friends aren’t going to be very understanding of your situation with him. the only chance you have of retaining your friendships now is to cut beomgyu off and beg on your knees for forgiveness. but you like him. you really, really like him. and the temptation to relent is even stronger as he begins to plant kisses on your face along with promises to dump her and, in his words, to “be good from now on”. when his innocent kisses turn lustful and begin to trail down your neck, what else can you do besides agree?

notes pt. 2: so...? i hope this was okay i really do LMFAOO. i have no idea how this will be received. if it's bad, i might delete it because i truly don't know what i'm doing. anyway, feedback is always appreciated! it gives me the confidence to branch out like this so i'd love to hear from y'all :)

permanent taglist*: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast

*minors and ageless blogs on my permanent taglist were not added for obvious reasons. i made the taglist before i decided to make supermodel smut, so if you would like to be removed from this or any future smut works, please message me!

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