#let women have power fantasies

[t4le-4s-0ld-4s-t1m3]

So I'm on youtube, looking for reviews of Damsel because I loved it and wanted to find a comment section with like-minded people. Only I never ended up participating in any discussions. Oh there were a bunch a reviews, some of them positive. But I got distracted by the overwhelming amount of reviews made by middle-aged white men with horrible titles.

Now did I expect everyone to like it ? No, of course not, taste is subjective. Do I think the movie is perfect ? No, it's a B-movie if we're being honest, the plot is very basic and there is not a lot of depth, though I think there is more than meets the eye. It's a power fantasy movie, with all the suspension of disbelief and fun that entails. A turn your brain off, you leave feeling badass kind of movie.

All the same, the heartbreak and frustration I feel after clicking on a few of them, watching about a minute, and going through the comment sections is immeasurable. Because the commentary was always the same, "this is anti-white men" (media literacy is dead by the way, because how ? How was that a conclusion ?), "hollywood pushing the girlboss agenda", "worse movie ever", "why do all female protagonists have to be strong, why can't they be soft", "feminists and their anti-marriage propaganda". Guys, I don't know if it's just because I'm in my mid-twenties now, or because more men have become radicalised, or both. But I am so, so tired of this shit. So tired of feeling like some men want to put me in a very small box and keep me there because they feel entitled to it. And I'm by no means someone who doesn't largely fit in the mould to begin with. I'm a girly-girly with no desire to act like a man or fight like one. I appreciate book Sansa Stark so much for the symbol of soft power that she is, and I do agree that there should be more women like her in fiction. But that these men feel not only comfortable, but entitled to throw so many tantrums trying to shame and force me to never stray from the mould, and watch as they do the same to women who do not and should not have to fit into it, more and more grating. Why can't we have power fantasy movies ? Why does it make them so angry ? I've never seen their power fantasy movies get dunked on. Hell, we usely enjoy them alongside them. Why can't they do the same ? Why must everything targeted at us be something for them to ridicule ?

And do you know what the worse part is ? While watching the movie, I caught myself thinking "most of this isn't unrealistic for a fit woman with magical healing slugs, she only really survives because the dragon is sadistic and enjoys prolonging her suffering, surely the filmbros won't get too annoying". I already knew on some level what was going to happen, because it's what always happens isn't it ? I wast just too hopeful it seems.

[j-esbian]

(one of) the most frustrating parts about the portrayal of drow society is that it wants to create Reverse Sexism without uncoupling itself from some. pretty foundational patriarchal ideas. it ascribes to the (tired, essentialist) notion that men are inherently good at certain things, and women are inherently suited for different things

but rather than the basic subversion of “women are warriors and men are the homemakers” or even early feminist thought experiments like “traditionally ‘women’s priorities’ are given importance over ‘men’s’ (ie things are governed by council, importance is placed on childrearing, etc)”, menzoberranzan is “this society still holds to patriarchal values and women are not as good at these things which is why it’s demonstrably worse”.

the biggest tell is that they have to control the male population to maintain female dominance, the implication being that in a fair fight, men would easily overpower them. it assumes the misogynist ideas as fact that “women are inherently weaker” and also “women are duplicitous” so the drow fighting style is based on stealth and sabotage rather than “”honorable”” face- to-face combat (letting lie also the assumption that the only avenue for ambition is through military violence, and therefore still making it so that they are reliant on men, even as disposable shock troops, for their success).

the only things that keep women in charge are by stacking the numbers on a systematic level, and through sexual domination on the individual level (because clearly the only real power a woman can have over men is her sexuality).

it is a society where “men act like men” but women don’t act like women; it is evil because an act of god created an aberration against the “natural order” of things, and there is no one to tend the hearth (because if the women won’t do it, no one will)

[chaoxfix]

god i need the algorithm to stop recommending lore olympus to me.

reframing a kidnapping of a woman as romance, and painting her mother as an overbearing shrew rather than rightfully worried and protective, and portraying the kidnapper as sympathetic ... what about my overtly feminist ass makes anyone or any algorithm think i'd enjoy ANY hades/persephone romance retellings.

at this point the only hades and persephone retelling i'm interested in is a retelling that focuses on demeter's love for her daughter. one where persephone's abduction and transition from kore, the maiden, to persephone, goddess of the dead and queen of the underworld, was one where she carries out a revenge fantasy against her abductor... She cannot fully escape the underworld, no; she is death, doomed by the narrative. Underground she will stay for half the year. But she will not subject herself to be trapped with him.

hades dies at dawn; hades dies in the spring light, by persephone's power, and a knife garnished with evergreen thistles. demeter holds him down, and persephone cuts the head. judith slaying holofernes; persephone slaying hades.

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (11) | 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 (making out - I know, finally) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 23.5k

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 was quite the wait! We have come to the climax of the story and I'm both excited and terrified to share this with you. I have nothing more to say other than see you on the other side! 🤭🤭

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

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

Whenever Jungkook creates some distance between you and him, you often understand it. It’s his default, you think, and after learning about the pain he harbors from his childhood, you’ve come to accept it. You expect it, even. 

Recently though, he hasn’t been doing much of it. He often moves closer; sometimes, he lets you do it. Tonight, it’s both - he stands near you, he holds you, and he lets you slowly close the distance until you’re just a breath away. And for a brief moment, you think that he’d eliminate it altogether. 

But you’re not in some fantasy world, so when he pulls away, you’re reminded of who you are and who he is and that sliver of hope goes up in flames. 

“I—” he mumbles. 

“I should go,” you interject, turning away so as not to see any more of the rejection in his eyes. “Have a good evening, Mr. Jeon.”

You grab your bag then rush outside, exhaling the breath you were holding in and letting the shame fill you up as fast as the elevator reaches the first floor. You want to run to rid yourself of the embarrassment, maybe be irresponsible for once and get drunk just to forget. Maybe when you wake up in the morning, you’ll find out it was all a dream - you didn’t actually want to kiss your boss, you didn’t actually think he’d kiss you back, and he didn’t actually pull away, as if it stung him to touch you, as if it hurt him to try. 

But the thought doesn’t last long.

You get on a bus and convince yourself that staying sober tonight is a better option than reporting hungover to work tomorrow. You’ll feel embarrassed either way, but might as well be more professional about it, considering that what you’d almost done - and all the things you thought about - was nothing but that. You settle for just cup noodles for dinner; you don’t deserve anything nicer than that tonight. 

Sleep doesn’t come until past one later in the evening. You spend much of your time tossing and turning, trying hard to erase the image of Jungkook so close to you. 

But nothing works. All you see are his lips. All you can hear is his breathing. All you can smell is him. 

You wake up four hours later, exhausted and incredibly anxious for the day. You want it to be over already, and you half think of calling in sick but you know that’ll be too obvious. It could set off alarm bells to Jungkook and he might call and ask how you are, and that’s something you can’t deal with either. So you power through and nap in the car, not wanting to converse with Mr. Ri because you might tell him everything should he ask the right questions.

Your plan of action is to engage with Jungkook as little as you can, in any way that’s possible. You play around with things in his kitchen and make sure you have your back turned when he exits from his gym. The energy drink and glass of water are on the counter and you sense him lingering before he finally walks to his bedroom. You let some time pass before going to his closet to prepare his accessories for the day, then head back out, cooking his omelet as slowly as you can.

The clearing of his throat lets you know he’s done, and you glance at him before placing the dishes on the table. 

This isn’t the routine. You always fix his necktie once he shows up. It’s reflex for you, and you know that’s what he’s come to expect as well. 

But you can’t bring yourself to do that right now. It’s basically like re-enacting what happened last night and you can’t promise yourself that you won’t want to kiss him again when he’s that close. You can’t look him in the eyes, you can’t take in his scent, you can’t hear his breathing without remembering how he felt like. You know you can’t have it again, so you won’t even torture yourself even more than you already are.

His tie is slightly off and it disturbs you. He doesn’t move but he doesn’t ask you to fix it. 

You sigh to yourself. He’ll live. 

You eat quickly and it’s a contrast to him picking on his food. You’re tempted to ask if the dish isn’t to his liking, but you told yourself not to start conversations or engage in anything outside of work matters, and you’ll stick to that for as long as possible. 

“___.”

“Mr. Jeon, I’ve prepared your notes for today’s meetings,” you state before he could say anything more. “And I’m meeting with the marketing team about the additional promotional materials you wanted. Is there anything else you wish to add to the ones we talked about?”

“None for now. They can go ahead with my initial request,” he responds, his voice too soft than what you’re used to, but you don’t dare look up and meet his eyes.

You ask a few more questions and he responds accordingly. The silence is deafening and though you miss the playful banter that has become part of your mornings, you know you can’t get into that right now. Somehow, this is when you can’t act like everything’s normal. Your stupid mistake and foolish assumption is where you draw the line. You just hope the day ends quickly enough before you give in. 

Both of you head down to the car. Before going inside, you hear Jungkook ask Mr. Ri how he looks and if his tie is fixed, and you internally smack your head for being so petty about this. You didn’t think that something seemingly trivial about your daily routine with him would affect you this much, as if it somehow threw things off-balance just because you were so afraid to be close. You realize now that you would look forward to those few seconds because that was the only time you had a reason to touch him. 

But he’s everything you can’t desire and given that you almost crossed a line, you know you’re gonna have to slowly pull back. Not just with regards to your feelings but in everything, as you take a peek of your personal phone and see an email notification about an upcoming book launch from Rkive Publishing. You subscribed to their mailing list right after you met their director, and you’ve been sitting on his email address and the application letter you have yet to submit. 

Since that encounter, you’ve been occasionally looking at other job opportunities in different fields. You realize that nothing much excites you. There’s not much you think is worth slaving your way for in this corporate jungle, and that while you’re currently part of that machine, the only thing that got you going these past eight years was the debt you had to pay. 

You had your reasons to stay but being at this point when you’re ready to let that go, you’re realizing that there wasn’t much else about the job that got you truly excited. Sure, it was also the people, but they’re why you couldn’t leave. It wasn’t until the planning for the Arts Center that you felt you could truly be invested in a project and have impact on it, too; it just so happens that the man behind it is the reason why you have to step away. You know it’s the only way you could finally choose yourself and pursue what you want. At 31, you owe it to yourself to do that. 

Your thoughts are disrupted when the familiar building comes into view, and you exit the car and head to your floor, trailing Jungkook this time instead of walking by his side as what you’ve come to do. You can tell that he notices the distance but you don’t want to address it. Being terrible at any form of confrontation, you don’t really want to acknowledge anything that happened. You’ll deal with him if he brings it up, and for all the times that you screwed up, you wish to the heavens that Jungkook lets this one go. 

You head to your desk while he heads to his. You make him his coffee then ask him to sign some documents. You focus on his hands as he flips through the pages, preferring to look at those instead of his face. But it’s those fingers that pressed against you last night, and you shake your head at the memory, even if all you want is to feel them again.

You retrieve the papers, your heart stopping when he doesn’t let them go right away. Your eyes widen and you still don’t look at him, even as you anticipate him to say something.

“___.”

“Mr. Min asked to meet with you after lunch,” you cut him off again before he could say more.

“I know. That email was sent to you and me.”

“Yes, sir. I was just making sure.”

He lets go of the papers now and you bow before quickly heading out. You just know he had his eyebrows scrunched at you. He’s probably trying to make sense of how jittery you seem and though he may know why, you’re not sure if he knows why.

You get through the morning in one piece. You attend your meeting while Jungkook attends his own with his father. You grab a quick lunch with Do-hyun, whose narration of her love life takes up the whole half hour, then you return to your tasks once you finish.

Hyper-focused on the file you’re reviewing, Yoongi’s usually unenthusiastic greeting catches you off guard, causing your lips to miss the hot tea that you’re about to drink. You jerk, spilling all of it on you. You subsequently hit the saucer that’s on the edge of the table; it falls on the floor and breaks.

“Fuck!” You whisper yell, as you feel the drink pool on your skirt.

“Shit, is it burning?” Yoongi asks worriedly. 

He immediately rushes to your side and grabs some paper towels from the cabinet, placing them on your lap and on the floor.

“Don’t move so you don’t spread the broken pieces,” he instructs. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m just uncomfortable,” you groan, with your knees awkwardly touching each other and your thighs squeezed to keep the liquid from spreading. 

You’re at least in a black skirt but you know the stain will still be visible. That’s the least of your problems though, as Jungkook arrives from his meeting and heads to you with a folder, only to find Yoongi kneeling on the floor next to you. Jungkook’s eyes widen, seemingly scandalized at what this looks like, and they flit from you to his friend, whose calm face quickly turns into one of panic. 

“She spilled her tea and the saucer broke,” Yoongi explains, raising the soiled paper towels as evidence. He tells you to move back so he can place them over the shards while Jungkook looks on intently. “Are you good? Do you have spare clothes?” Yoongi asks you.

“Uh, ye-yeah,” you manage to say, hating how frozen you seem to be. With the tea having been absorbed, you grab your bag from your cabinet, the one you’ve started to keep and bring with you during trips in case you get stranded again, then throw the towels in the trash bin. “I’ll just go get changed.”

You scurry towards the washroom and leave the men alone, knowing that Yoongi will hold the fort for both of you. 

Back inside, Jungkook eyes Yoongi as he calls for maintenance to clean up the mess.

“She spilled her tea and the saucer broke,” Yoongi says again. “She couldn’t move and I just cleaned up.”

“I heard you the first time,” Jungkook states.

“Just making sure, so your mind doesn’t think of whatever it thinks about,” Yoongi shrugs. “But is she okay? She seems a bit out of it.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook looks away. “Don’t you usually know those things?”

“Well, I assume that since you’ve gotten closer, you would know. Unless it’s about you… Were you mean to her again?”

Yoongi’s unusual scowl is one that Jungkook is secretly terrified of but he acts unaffected, merely shaking his head in response and to dismiss the assumption. He’ll admit that his friend’s statement is quite bittersweet, though. Yes, you and Jungkook have both gotten closer and there hasn’t been an incident in months where you could’ve had a reason to be down because of him. 

Unless last night counts, which is something he’s still wrapping his head around. 

He thinks back to that moment right by your desk. You were so close. And he was so close to doing something more than just holding onto your waist. He saw you eye his lips and he did the same but the realization of where you both were - in a semi-open space in the office - reminded him of his limits. Sure, it was after-hours and no one would have any reason to be on the floor at that time, but it still felt too exposed and he didn’t want either of you to be put in such a compromising position, even if every part of his body was aching to kiss you. 

He wouldn’t have known you were talking about him if it weren’t for the way you held him close and that unfamiliar look of yearning in your eyes. At that moment, he let himself hope that he’s who you wanted, even if he’s also the same man you believed wouldn’t cross his boundaries for you.

Even then, you had been so bold, so honest. He wished he was as brave and as capable to express his desires as you were. He never thought you’d feel anything for him - him, the one who made your life miserable for weeks, the one who treated you unfairly because you made him feel - and want - things he couldn’t understand and control. Your calm and warm nature made him think he wasn’t anyone special. He dismissed whatever part of him that thought otherwise because he couldn’t hope for something he couldn’t have.

But last night, the way you looked at him also made him feel like all he desired was within reach, like you were within his grasp. Your lips were everything he wanted all over him. Your soft breaths were what he wanted to take in. You were all he wanted to taste and touch and hear, and he’d been so, so close to crossing a line that he said he wouldn’t because he was afraid it would push you away and that’s the last thing he wants to do.

He was overwhelmed but he was just as scared, believing that there’s no turning back if something had happened. He almost stepped over the line but pulled back just as quickly, and now it seems that that’s what’s keeping you at a distance. Because as you return to your desk, you merely bow at him then go through the folder of documents he’d given you.

“Yoongi and I will just meet for an hour,” he says. “Please be ready with the Arts Center opening event budget that I’ll go through with Hoseok later.”

“That’s noted, sir.”

Jungkook sighs in disappointment as you don’t spare him a glance. He just wants to see those eyes again, the ones that yearned for him last night, the ones that asked him - almost challenged him - to get closer. But he’d been the coward who let you go, and now he doesn’t know how to turn back from this.

He enters his room then turns around to face Yoongi.

“I feel so much and I don’t know what to do.”

“I know,” his friend hums, feeling relieved that Jungkook can now acknowledge something he’d known for a while now. But Yoongi also knows that it’s not that simple, and while he knows of the possibility that you feel the same, reciprocated feelings don’t always mean happy endings. “Just don’t… just don’t hurt her,” he adds.

“Why do I feel like whatever I do, it’s what I’ll end up doing anyway?”

“She’ll know when you mean it and when you don’t. And you know what helps?”

“What?”

“Letting her know that hurting her isn’t what you want to do. You’ve got a lot to say, Jungkook, I know it,” Yoongi remarks. “Just be brave enough to say them.”

Yoongi’s words linger in Jungkook’s mind for the rest of the day, especially during the times that he peeks through the window to get a glimpse of you. You seem determined not to look his way, as you don’t even attempt to look at his direction all afternoon. There is a lot he’s got to say, he just doesn’t know what they are or how to say them. It’s always been that way when it comes to you - he feels so much, but he's unable to let you know.

Despite your avoidance all day, he feels your absence even more when you leave at 6PM, on the dot, without sparing him a glance. He could run after you and ask to talk. He wouldn’t know how to start that conversation though, but if it would bring you to finally look at him or say his name, then it would be enough. 

He just wants to know what last night meant for you. And if it means what he hopes it does, then maybe it isn’t about turning back but moving forward. He knows it will be complicated, but he wants to figure it out with you. He’ll choose the path where he gets to be around you, close to you. Always.

Jungkook pulls out the bottle of whiskey he keeps in his drawer to momentarily drown out these thoughts. For some, liquor gives them courage. For him, he drinks it because he’s afraid to be brave.

As he replays the way you looked at him last night, he wonders to himself what he’s more scared of - never having you close enough, or losing you completely. 

The three films you watch in the cinema that Saturday afternoon are a good distraction to all the thoughts in your head. You occasionally do this because watching other people’s lives play out in film gives you something to ponder about. Sometimes, you let it inspire you to live differently. Other times, it allows you a peek into a life much more exciting than the one you have. In some instances, it gives you a sense of relief that yours is uneventful, lacking in drama and intrigue.

At this moment, you’re not quite sure what you want out of it other than to forget. What exactly, you’re not sure. Is it the way you felt when Jungkook held you? Is it the way he seemed to want more and then nothing at all? Or is it the hope you had that you’d found someone you were willing to give a bit of yourself to, only for the glass to shatter because that’s not what you do - you don’t desire for things not meant for you; you don’t open yourself to heartbreak like that. 

Jungkook has always made you feel a lot of things. This time is no different. But this time it also means more. You could lose him completely or have something with him that could be beautiful. One would hurt right away and the other could hurt you down the road. You don’t know which one you’re willing to suffer through. 

Suddenly you wish you didn’t get to this point at all. You could’ve left when you had the chance. You could’ve let him not mean to you this much. 

You continue to wallow in the sadness. You eat dinner at a ramen place before going home and settling in bed with your best friends on video call. You tell them about the past two days and narrate your moments with Jungkook during the team building that you left out when you spoke to them about it. Looking at them through the screen, you see a mix of understanding and frustration on their faces. 

“Why are you avoiding him, hun?” Soomin asks, her eyes soft and comforting.

“Because I’m so embarrassed,” you groan, burying your face on the pillow. “I was so… shameless. I don’t even know what got into me. He just looked at me and I… lost all sense. Who was I to assume that moment would end well? That he’d reciprocate that honesty?”

“And you think not talking about it will rid you of that embarrassment?” She wonders.

“No. But it’s at least better than facing it,” you frown. “I’m not good with words nor feelings. And I’m sure that neither is he. I’m just trying to be professional now because I obviously wasn’t.”

You leave out your fears about meeting his eyes and hearing what he has to say. Even if he returns whatever you feel, there’s so much burden tied to that and you don’t think you’re ready for it. You don’t think you’re ready for any of this.

“It doesn’t seem sustainable though,” Soomin points out. “You’re together all the time. You’ve created a routine and a dynamic that you’ve gotten so used to. It takes more effort to avoid the whole thing, don’t you think?”

“I guess but… we’re all busy with the Arts Center opening. And I plan on tending my resignation right after,” you explain. “There’s no time to talk about feelings. I’ll just let it die down. It’s stupid to have them in the first place.” 

The prolonged silence prompts you to turn towards her. “You don’t agree with me, do you?”

“I just don’t think it’s stupid to be feeling what you’re feeling,” Soomin replies. “You spend so much time together. You’re bound to form some attachment and develop affection for him, regardless of how things started. I mean, through all the late-nights and early mornings and stresses and comfort in between, there’s something only two of you share and understand. That’s not stupid. That’s how connections are formed, hun.”

Attachment. Connection. They terrify you but they’re things that you desire as well. You don’t know how deep they are when it comes to Jungkook and you don’t know if they’re something he feels towards you, too.

“Maybe you’re just trying to convince yourself that it isn’t that serious,” she adds. “Maybe it’s because you know that it is, and you don’t know if it’s worth pursuing, if it’s worth finding out if he returns it and if being with him is something that can happen.”

You look away, knowing the truth in her words. You turn to Jimin, who’s been unusually quiet all evening.

“What do you think Jimin?” You ask him. “I mean, it’s one thing to feel something and another to act on it and risk everything for it, right?”

“There’s always something you risk once you acknowledge what you feel for another person,” he says after pondering about it. “For me, acting on it just depends on two things. Is it good for me, and is it good for them? In your case, it’s something to really think about. You’re you and he’s him. And you know what I mean. You’ve been wanting to walk away from this company for years, ___. You wanna be something outside of it. How does being with your boss help with that?”

Jimin’s words remind you of something else you’ve been yearning for - that search for who you are outside of your work, outside of all the years you spent working for this family that have become a core part of who you are. For people like you who have to work extra hard for the things you have, it becomes natural for your job to define you as a means of survival. It doesn’t give you power nor influence; it just gives you a means to get to the next day and to give back to the one person who sacrificed everything for you. 

As the years went by, it became more difficult to pull away. This family trusts you, and your confidence has only ever increased as an employee of this company, but not as a professional. You’ve been wanting to learn who you are without the burdens you carry, without the need to constantly prove yourself to the people who helped make you, and Jungkook ties you to all this. Whether it’s pursuing him or working for him, you’re afraid you’ll never be brave enough to do things on your own.

You weren’t supposed to be this attached. You weren’t supposed to be this invested. You weren’t supposed to want to be wanted back. 

But Jungkook made you care. He made you feel. He made you be brave. And he’s now the one you have to pull away from.

“You’re right,” you sigh. “Maybe in a way, I needed this to happen. I needed this… moment to remind me that I have to leave and I can’t let him be another reason for me to stay, not when I feel what I feel, and not when I don’t know if he feels the same way.”

“What if he does, though?” Soomin asks. “And what if he asks you to stay?”

“Thinking about it now, I hope he doesn’t,” you say. “It’d be much easier for me if he just lets me go. I can finally walk away from all this. And I can get over what I feel.”

“Is that what you really want?” Soomin adds.

You nod in response. “At least I know I’ll be happy outside of working for the company. Who knows what having him in my life would bring me?”

The book cafe in Mapo district boasts of an elegant yet comfortable design. It has three levels that consist of a library and working spaces, but it’s on the first floor that you find yourself in, tucked in one of the corner tables at the back with your iced coffee and fruit tart. 

You listen in awe as the author reads excerpts from her newly released book, which she narrates with vigor and emotion. She answers questions about her purpose for writing this specific story, the inspiration for the characters, and interesting things like who she’d cast if it were to become a movie and what the playlist would sound like. It’s the first book launch you’ve ever been to, and despite not being an avid reader, you have a feeling that it won’t be your last. 

There’s something about the storytelling and the process of creating something that captivates you. There’s not much of that in your world. It’s all numbers and profits. It’s soulless, if you’re being honest. It doesn’t give you time to feel or live in the moment or actually bask in the work that you do. You’re there to support, to assist, and while that used to be something you were proud of, the past year has made you think that it’s truly time to move on from it. It’s made you desensitized to things like joy and hope and love, which prompts you to realize that those are what have been missing. Working on the Arts Center gave you a taste of it. You’ve come to the point where you want to know how those truly feel like, and the job has hindered you from fully finding it out.

All your emotions for Jungkook take a backseat the more you think about what your life could be, especially while you watch Namjoon gather what seems to be his team, as he congratulates them for a successful launch. They’re all in casual clothes, looking relaxed, relieved, and fulfilled as the event comes to a close and several people approach the author and ask her to sign their books. You can imagine the stress leading up to all this, but there’s satisfaction in putting together something this intimate and meaningful. 

“You made it,” the man with the soft smile says, the child-like innocence of his face, a contrast to his very masculine build. “I’m glad those newsletters and email invites work.”

“I think they’re the only ones I actually read,” you say, earning you a brighter smile from him. “But honestly though, it helps that a book cafe is something I wouldn’t mind being in on a Sunday morning.”

“Exactly!” Namjoon beams. “It’s easy to make it a part of your weekend. Whether it translates to immediate sales isn’t the whole point, although that’s great, don’t get me wrong. But as long as there’s foot traffic and increased interest, then it’s a success. Our launches have been gaining traction on social media. And the—shit, sorry. I’m rambling again,” he chuckles. “I doubt you came here with the intention of listening to me talk about what we do and stuff.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” you assure him. “I don’t actually go to things like this but I thought it might be a good way to have a feel of what it’s like working for your company without inconveniencing you. I mean, I haven’t applied yet but I just wanted to see if this is something I’d enjoy doing.”

“And?” He asks in anticipation.

“It kind of is,” you admit. “I don’t know. There’s just something so personal about it.”

“There really is,” Namjoon nods.

His face turns serious now, something that happens when he’s about to go on a speech about whatever it is he feels strongly about. He’s expressive and it’s quite captivating, which is refreshing in a colleague, you realize. 

Sitting across from you in your little nook in the cafe, he talks about the journey of this whole process, how he reached out to the author who turned out was trying to contact him as well. He was hoping to publish one of her manuscripts that was shared to him by a friend, but she offered this one instead, a very personal story that she trusted his company would do justice. 

“I sat the whole team down and told them what this means for her as an author and as a person, and what that in turn could mean to the readers,” he continues. “There’s so much responsibility but the return is worth more than you could imagine. Of course, it’s not always easy. We have a relatively small team for the amount of things that we have to do but it works. Communication is smooth, accountability is shared, and we build our trust and respect in each other that way. I think that makes it even more worth it in the end.”

“You’re really trying to lure me in, aren’t you?” You laugh.

“Pretty much,” he chuckles. “I just think our meetings are serendipitous. There were two people who were supposed to take on the role but they backed out last minute - on both cases, I see you the next day. The universe probably has plans.”

“It probably does,” you nod, slowly believing him. “The only reason why I haven’t applied yet is because this is all so new to me and I may not be what you’re looking for.”

“But it could be that we’re what you’re looking for,” he counters. “Even if the industry is new to you, if it’s a place you’re comfortable in and that you think will help you grow professionally, then you become what we need. It’s give and take, really. Your approach to the work impacts how you do it. Yes, it’s still a job but it also means a lot more.”

“You’re very good at this,” you say, feeling more at ease as you speak with him, a stranger who has no idea what you’re going through but is somehow saying the exact things you need to hear. “I just have a timeline I’m working around. My company has an important thing coming up in several weeks and I don’t want to leave before then. It’s also why I’ve been delaying applying.”

“Hey, if we see that we’re a good fit for each other, then we can work around your timeline,” he says. “To help with that, maybe we can chat more casually to relieve you of the pressure. I have some things to return to the office not far from here and you can tell me a bit about the work that you do. What do you think?”

It’s a suggestion you take up, so you both start walking a few streets down to a mid-rise building, a structure that sits amidst cozy cafes and small parks. 

The Rkive Publishing office is spacious. Instead of solo desks, there are large tables so there are more opportunities for collaborations, but there are small meeting rooms and private spaces as well. There are floor-to-ceiling windows, shelves that are lined with hundreds of books, and quirky art pieces that give the place a unique yet personal touch. It’s leagues different from what you’re used to, and as you appreciate the way the sunlight makes the whole place glow, you start to think that Namjoon may be right - this might just be what you’re looking for. 

You disclose who you work for then tell him your functions, narrate how a usual day looks like, and mention the types of people you usually engage with. But you share how you’ve felt lost in the chaos of everything and that you’ve been trying to find purpose in it but have been unable to. 

Namjoon purses his lips, attempting to hide a smile, but you call him out on it.

“I’m just trying not to get too excited,” he reasons, giving in and chuckling now. “We need organization, a sense of urgency, a kind of professionalism that someone of your caliber could bring. I don’t want to get my hopes up and yes, there’s a process, but I hope you give us a chance.”

It’s easy to think that this man has no idea what he’s saying, but he’s been talking about going with his gut feeling all morning - he’s said as much that following his heart and doing what feels right for him allowed him to turn the company into what it is right now. Maybe meeting the first time was just a coincidence, but the pull of the universe - of you to this environment and him to you - is just too strong that you can’t help but think that maybe this is the next step for you. For all the challenges you went through all these years, maybe you deserve something a little more smooth sailing this time. 

You don’t make any promises but you do assure him that you’ll send him an email. There are obviously other pressing matters that you have to deal with but this has been a good distraction, one that you allow to preoccupy you for the rest of the day. 

After saying goodbye, you walk around the neighborhood and spend the afternoon by the river where you wonder about the people surrounding you. 

What dilemmas are they facing? What heartbreaks are they trying to move on from? What new adventure are they preparing for? Or maybe, who are they trying to forget? Who’s waiting at home for them? Are they watching the sunset because they know it’s beautiful or because they’ve forgotten that it is? 

You let out a breath once the sun has dipped and the sky has turned a dark shade of blue. You feel a mix of awe at its beauty and disappointment because the day has come to an end. You once more have to face the person you’ve been trying not to think about all weekend.

Giving yourself a pep talk, you go to bed that night with the plan of continuing what you did last Friday, which is avoiding any moments and any chances of talking about what happened. If Jungkook brings it up, then you’ll just have to face it and ask him to forget about that night and then deal with the consequences after. But there’s no way that you’ll say anything first; you’ll ride this out for as long as you can.

Avoiding talking to Jungkook about non-work matters - which is really what you only intended to do - is much more difficult when you have to pretend you don’t care about him. 

That Monday morning, you stop yourself from asking how he’s doing after spotting the empty whiskey bottle and beer cans in his kitchen bin. While you give him the usual hangover remedy, you stop short of suggesting that he get some rest or buying him his favorite lunch dish. 

During the meeting that you accompany him to in the afternoon, you watch him helplessly as his father hounds him with questions about the other projects, adding even more pressure than what he’s currently under, and you look away when he tries to meet your eyes. You used to send him encouragement through your gentle nods and soft smiles but you’re scared you’ll fall into your feelings once again if you do them, knowing that any sign of him needing you is all it would take for you to give in and talk to him, maybe comfort him. 

You’ve become so weak for him, you realize that now. His detachment used to put you off and frustrate you, but knowing him the way you do, it’s what makes you want to be there for him; it’s what makes you want to assure him that you’re just there. 

But you aren’t, because you’re pushing him away. You’re making him go through his confusion and stress and exhaustion all on his own because you’re a coward, too. You’re scared of your own feelings. You’re scared of them being rejected and you’re scared of them being returned. You didn’t realize just how much you are because you never actually felt something this deeply for anyone, and that terrifies you even more. 

Watching him from your desk as he pores through documents on his laptop is hard, too. You’re done for the day but he’s said earlier that he’ll be staying late to finish a few things because there are many distractions at his place. You want to tell him they can wait, that he’ll need to rest and regain his energy for the week ahead, or that some fresh air could help clear his mind. 

But you don’t. Instead, you pack your things and head out, knowing that much as it’s your decision to force this distance between both of you, it’s still something you wish you didn’t have to do. You don’t know how long you can sustain it, but somehow you know that once he gives in, so will you, and so all this might as well just be useless or even worse for you. 

Mr. Ri picks up on the change the next morning, as he asks if you and Jungkook had an argument on the way to his penthouse. 

“There was no argument, ” you answer. “There’s just a lot on my mind and he’s a big part of that. I just… I just don't know how to deal with things, you know?”

“Things like what?” Mr. Ri asks. 

“Feelings,” you sigh. “I mean, you said they can’t be helped. And you’re right, I can’t. That’s my big problem right now.”

“Oh, ___,” he says, softly smiling through the rear view mirror. 

You can tell he’s trying to comfort you, something he’s told you before he’s unsure how to do. You brush him off, saying you’ll figure it out, and he assures you that you could talk to him and that maybe, you need to just let it out to someone who knows what you’re battling against. You express your appreciation then inhale deeply once you arrive at Jungkook’s building. 

The clanking sound of plates surprises you when you enter the penthouse. You walk cautiously towards the kitchen and find Jungkook already dressed in his work attire, placing the basket of toasted bread in the middle of the dining table where you spot the two plates with eggs in each. You wonder if you’re late, given that he’d gone ahead and made breakfast for both of you already. 

“You’re on time,” he says after seeing you check your watch. “I was just up early. I couldn’t really sleep. I think I have too much on my mind.”

“I still could have made this for you,” you say so softly, Jungkook almost misses it.

“I didn’t mind,” he answers, wanting to say more, like that he thought it would be nice to make something for you for a change, or that he hopes you could see the effort.

But he keeps them to himself, just like the many other things that he doesn’t feel ready to verbalize. He hasn’t stopped thinking about you since Thursday night, and he thinks that the distance you’re creating has made his desire even stronger, but so has the fear. 

He spent the weekend downing alcohol and then boxing for hours to get rid of the hangover. The lemon ginger tea he made didn’t really work. He placed the bandage on his beat-up knuckles incorrectly, not like how perfectly you’d done it once. And the chicken noodle soup he ordered when he wasn’t feeling well last night didn’t taste as good as yours. 

His mornings aren’t the same without the briefest touch from you from fixing his tie, or from the casual conversations during breakfast or in the car. There’s not much of your voice or your laughter that he hears, and definitely none of your smile that always encouraged him, that always assured him. This continues for the rest of the day, as he barely feels your presence unless he asks for it. And even then, it almost feels like you’re not there at all. 

He feels so lost without you, unable to focus and function properly without your guidance and your care. He doesn’t know how or when he’s allowed himself to need you this much but it all feels so new yet familiar. All he wants is to be near you again but he admits that seeing you consistently pull away hurts him more than anything. 

It’s why that Wednesday, he settles for only minimal glances at you in the car, why he conducts his morning meeting in a cafe instead, why he has the blinds on in his room all afternoon, and why he stays to work late and informs you that he’ll go straight to the Arts Center the next day so he’ll just meet you in the office.

He does all those so he’s forced to be around you less, so he doesn’t look up from his desk to find out that you don’t look his way anymore, so that it’s less difficult when you don’t do your usual routine with him. He at least won’t feel as bad when you don’t ask how he’s feeling if you don’t see him look terrible in the morning after not being able to sleep, or when you don’t fix his necktie for the fifth time this past week if he’s not around you in the first place. 

You’ve been going out of your way to avoid him and if he had a bit more courage, he’d probably be able to ask what Thursday night was about and if you’d really wanted to kiss him like he did. 

But he’s afraid of two things - that you’d ask him to forget all of it, or that you’d both have to figure out how to move forward if the feelings are indeed mutual. There are so many things that could go wrong but just as many that could go right - he’s scared to hurt you either way. And like he’s always said, he doesn’t know how to handle all of this; he doesn’t know how to talk about what he feels.

Thursday morning comes and while you’re relieved that you don’t have to tiptoe around Jungkook again in his own apartment and feel suffocated by the tension, you won’t lie and say that you deeply felt his absence. You also won’t deny that seeing him walk towards his office without sparing you a glance hurt you a little. You know him enough that he’s probably giving you the space that you’ve insisted on, but still, a part of you wonders if he’s just accepted it, too. 

And when you hand him his notes for his late afternoon meeting then when he leaves for the CEO’s office without a look of acknowledgment, you worry that he’s become impatient, that he’ll keep pulling away for as long as you are, and that you’ll be so far apart that you’ll start to wonder if you’d come close to him at all. 

But you did this, you remind yourself. You’d been the one to get close, to expect, and then to detach because you were so afraid of what would happen next, and what that would mean for you. He’s probably the last thread you’re holding onto, connecting you to this world that you’ve been planning on leaving for so long. Maybe you’re also scared that if he asked you to stay, you would, and the last thing you want is for him to be the reason why you can’t let go, and then resent him for it. 

You sigh in your seat as the various thoughts plague your mind. You decide to go to the pantry for a cup of tea, knowing you have some time before Jungkook’s meeting with his father is scheduled to end. 

The support team’s office is unnervingly quiet at 7PM with only Mr. Ri around, shaking his leg against the chair while browsing on his desktop. He greets you when you enter and then joins you to make his cup of coffee - his fourth for the day, he says - before you both head out the pantry and sit by the meeting table. 

There aren’t any words said as you both blow away the steam from your respective hot drinks, merely letting the tranquility of the evening envelop the two of you. A few minutes pass and Mr. Ri finally looks up and asks why you’re still here, to which you reply that you wanted to be around when Jungkook’s meeting finishes in case he needs you to do something.

“There’s no need to drop me home,” you tell him. “I can manage on my own.”

“You know Jungkook won’t like that,” Mr. Ri responds. “He has strict instructions to drive for you whenever you stay out late. I can’t and won’t disobey those orders.”

You know this, which is why you sit in silence with your hands on your lap as if you’re being scolded, and you nod. 

“Okay,” you say softly.  

“He’s worried, you know?” Mr. Ri says after a while. “He’s been asking me how you’re doing, as if you’re not at the point in your relationship where he can directly talk to you. But I’ve actually been worried about him this past week. He stays up late to work, then goes home to work out. He’s not himself lately, always out of it and just… sad.”

“Did he… did he say anything else? About us, specifically?”

“He didn’t tell me if anything happened but I’m guessing something did, something serious enough that you’d avoid him for days and personal enough that he won’t confront you about it.”

Your face falls, guilt painting it, something Mr. Ri picks up.

“It’s about your feelings, isn’t it?” He asks. “You like him and you can no longer deny it.”

You nod in confirmation, unable to verbalize the words that your heart has been screaming for weeks. 

“Is it so hard to admit? Is it so hard to talk about?” The older man asks. “I mean, he doesn’t tell me anything but I’ve known that man his whole life, ___. I’ll bet a lot and say that he feels the same way about you. Why are you both putting all your effort into avoiding each other instead of talking it out?”

“Because you know us, Mr. Ri. We’re the worst at these things,” you shake your head, choosing to disregard his statement that Jungkook may be reciprocating the feelings, knowing you’re not ready to think about it. “And you know this, too. It’s not just about what I feel. It’s about who he is and who I am and what those imply. It’s this complicated situation that I wouldn’t even be in if I just… if I was just strong enough to leave the first time. Or the second time.”

“Hey, you know it wasn’t about that,” he says. “You were always strong. You held on even when things were difficult—”

“Yeah, I just held on and now I’m here, caught in between liking my boss and wanting to stay away from him, from his family,” you groan in frustration. 

But you utter the thoughts that you only rarely entertain, only because they’re what held you back all those years ago.

“Am I being selfish, for wanting to leave after everything?” You ask. “They’ve been so good to me. And now that I crossed the line and fell for their son, I want to let everything go.”

“Is that really why you want to resign? Because you like Jungkook?”

“No… it isn’t just about that,” you sigh. “Or it is. A big part of it, but also not. I… you know I’ve been thinking about this since the whole thing with Mrs. Byun happened, and that was six years ago. But then CEO Jeon asked me to help Hoseok and I stayed. And it was even more important for him that I be there for Jungkook. And I am but now what? How can I continue knowing that I like him? And how can I find myself and learn who I am outside of this when I’m here, when this is all I’ve ever known and all I’ve ever given myself to? They’ll always be good to me. I feel selfish by staying, but I also feel that way if I leave.”

“None of that makes you selfish, ___. You always had a reason to leave and you could have, but there was also always gonna be a reason for you to stay,” he says. “But they were their reasons, not yours. Whether you stay despite what you feel for Jungkook or leave to find yourself and seek the happiness you deserve, you’re not being selfish.”

You look at the man whom you’ve known for years and he sees in your eyes a woman who’s just asking for any kind of comfort, of any kind of assurance because no else is around to do that.

“We do what we can at every moment, and we can live with our choices if we know they’re the best one we can make at that time,” he continues. “Whatever it is you decide to do, I hope you do it for you. You’re the only person you have to look out for.”

Right outside the door, Jungkook remains unmoving as he processes everything he’d heard, while you continue to talk inside, completely oblivious to how you’ve rendered him paralyzed. 

Jungkook’s meeting with his father ended much sooner than he expected. They merely discussed some happenings with the Board and the lunch that they’ll be hosting on Saturday to welcome some of their family’s long-time friends who are flying in from Europe. 

He headed to the support office immediately to tell Mr. Ri that he plans to go home soon but hadn’t known you were there as well. But then again, you and their trusted aide - who’s been his father’s chauffeur, bodyguard, and personal assistant for decades - spend a lot of time together, so it didn’t feel off to Jungkook that you’d both be talking. He’s asked the older man to look out for you, too, especially with regards to things that he feels isn’t really his place. 

Jungkook didn’t hear much at first, initially deciding to just walk back to his office and call, but once he heard Mr. Ri asking you about resigning, he stopped in his tracks. He felt foolish to be listening in on a conversation he’s not a part of, especially since it’s also because of him.

It should’ve delighted him to hear you say that you like him. Jungkook could’ve only dreamt up that reality and it still feels surreal. You didn’t have a reason to lie and the fact that he isn’t the only one seemingly overwhelmed by his own feelings should be a good thing. 

But that also seems to be your reason for wanting to leave, and the thought breaks his heart in ways he can’t explain. You’ve apparently been planning on leaving for years but never got around to do so. If you stayed when his father asked you to, would you do the same if he asked? And he believes that up until last week, your relationship had become the most comfortable it’s ever been. You seem happy here, but why did it also seem like you just wanted to get away? 

The thoughts make his head hurt, and while a part of him wishes he hadn’t heard anything, he at least knows you plan on leaving. And that’s something he absolutely cannot bear.

The sounds of the chairs being fixed disrupt his thoughts. When he hears Mr. Ri suggest that you should start packing up, Jungkook quietly walks back to his office and nonchalantly calls the older man to inform him that he plans on staying up late and that he should drop you home already. If Mr. Ri notices the odd tone of his voice, he doesn’t say anything. He merely expresses his confirmation and not long after, Jungkook hears some shuffling outside his closed door.

“Is there anything you need from me before I leave, Mr. Jeon?” You call out, the walls in between both of you feeling higher and thicker than ever before.

He knows that you know that he no longer asks you to do anything at this hour, and he comforts himself by thinking that it’s your way of letting him know that you’re still there. But the thought is short-lived, as he once again plays the conversation he’d overheard in his mind.

“There’s none,” he says pointedly. “You may leave.”

It takes a while but he eventually hears you walk out. Jungkook feels himself breathe for the first time in the last 15 minutes, before he feels suffocated once again. 

Maybe pulling away last week when he’d been so close gave you the idea that he didn’t want you at all, and maybe that had affected you more than he expected. Maybe him, creating more distance that you’d initiated, made you think that that’s what he wanted after all that. Perhaps his being a coward in facing his own feelings had pushed you away, too, and if you’re scared of what you feel for him, maybe letting you know that he feels the same way is what will make you stay. He could be the happiness you’re searching for, Jungkook convinces himself. He could be what you want and need.

And he already knows that you’re all that for him. Whatever rules he created for himself and the limits he imposed are all pointless if he doesn’t have you around at the end of it. If his life after all this doesn’t have you in it, there’s no happiness for him. A new job for you could take you anywhere, maybe far away from where he is; it could lead you to someone, someone who isn’t him.

He hates that an overheard conversation about you resigning is what will take for him to finally be honest about what he feels for you. And that potentially losing you by his side is the push he needs to let you know that he wants you, that he wants everything with you, and that he hopes you want the same. 

It’s 9:30 PM by the time he enters the car, his head hazy from the two glasses of whiskey he had. Mr. Ri calls him out on another night of him drinking in the office and orders him to get straight to bed like he’d done a few times before when Jungkook had been too stressed and too stubborn to rest. He merely nods though but he follows through, skipping dinner then mindlessly taking a shower before falling asleep in bed after finishing a bottle of beer.

The ringing of the alarm causes Jungkook to grunt and turn off his phone for the peace and quiet that he needs, given the throbbing of his head. But in the silence, he hears the soft knocks on his door, so consistent that he decides to just open it and ask the person on the other side to stop.

But of course, it’s you, and the way you quickly turn your head away reminds him that he’s got nothing but his sweatpants on and he’s too sleepy for anything else to register.

“It’s 7AM, Mr. Jeon. You have an executive meeting at 8,” you tell him, voice so soft and so far away. 

“Fuck,” he groans, rubbing his temples to massage the pain away. “I’ll just take a shower. Don’t make breakfast anymore. We leave in 20 minutes.”

“Noted, sir,” you say, then walk back towards the kitchen.

It’s 15 minutes later when his bedroom door opens and he nervously walks over to you. Unable to still remove the image of his half-naked form in your mind, you focus your gaze elsewhere, but he forces it on him when he asks you to fix his necktie, the first time he’d ever done so.

“I was rushing,” he explains. 

You nod and head to him, hating how your hands slightly shake at feeling so close to him again. You can feel his breath as you watch the rise and fall of his chest. He probably feels as anxious as you, perhaps no longer used to this routine after you stopped it days ago. But you manage without sparing him a glance, keeping your distance and your eyes focused on anything else but him from the walk down to the car and throughout the ride to work. 

It’s difficult for you to look at him, not only because you’re ashamed but because you’re afraid of what you’ll see. Maybe his eyes will tell of his acceptance of this new dynamic. Maybe they’ll reflect anger and frustration at how you’ve disrupted his routine. Or maybe they’ll show sadness - which is what you’re most terrified of - because that’s your weakness. Any time he looks like he needs comfort or he needs you, you know you’d give in, you know you’d want to be there even if you’ve spent the past week staying as far away as possible. 

You know you don’t have much time left here. The Arts Center opens over a month from now and you’ve decided to tender your resignation soon after. You know you should be savoring whatever moments you have with him and perhaps that’s what saddens you the most because you don’t know what will come after. 

Your happiness isn’t here, and staying to find out if it’s with him isn’t worth it, not when there’s baggage you carry; not when your own past and insecurities weigh you down.

Arriving in the office, you rush to your desk then walk to his room to give him the notes he needs for the meeting. You turn towards him slowly when he calls you, your name in his voice suddenly sounding foreign.

“Can you prepare me lemon ginger tea? Please?” 

His voice is soft, as if he feels burdensome for making such a request. You want to give in so badly and ask how he’s feeling. But you stop yourself. It’s not the place nor time.

You accompany his tea with pastries, your own request for him to have breakfast, and you get your own, in response to him instructing you to do so. You see from your periphery that he’s trying to catch your attention as the meeting starts, but with this, you hold back. You don’t want to see what you now know would be sadness in his eyes.

Jungkook has entered the deepest nook of your heart, you realize. You don’t know how you let him get there, and you don’t know how to push him out. 

“Another night of drinking, huh?” Hoseok’s unusually somber voice disrupts Jungkook’s thoughts as he zones out during lunch. “The Arts Center getting you that stressed and anxious?”

Jungkook looks at his cousin questioningly.

“I know how you look when you’re tired and this isn’t it,” Hoseok responds. “You’re hungover.”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook huffs, not wanting to get into this with a man who would know when he’s lying.

“You should be, Kook. There’s a lot going on these next few weeks and we need you at your best. Your team has worked so hard for the Arts Center,” Hoseok reminds him. “So trust them. And don’t let them down.”

As always, his words hit Jungkook where they should. Whatever’s going on in his personal life - even if it involves you, his assistant - he has to be professional first, and that means making sure that everything is ready for the launch in six weeks. There’s a lot he has to meet and prepare for, and he doesn’t know how you’re able to do it. You may be distancing yourself from him but you’re still able to focus and carry out your tasks accordingly. You’ll be fine without him, he thinks. But if you’ll go on thinking that he doesn’t feel the same way about you, he knows he’ll regret it. He knows he’ll regret it even more if he doesn’t ask you to stay. 

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Jungkook assures his cousin. “I’ve been out of it but I’ll get my shit together.”

“Good. I don’t have to remind you that there’s a lot riding on this. But ___ is there to help. I’m here, too. You’ve got people who believe in you, okay?” Hoseok smiles, a slice of comfort that Jungkook didn’t know he needed. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Jungkook nods and heads back to his office after a full morning has passed, tricking himself into thinking that things will indeed be okay. He just needs to find the courage to face you, finally talk to you, ask you about that night, and tell you what he feels.

But even getting you alone proves to be difficult, as you have your own lunch plans that he didn’t want to interfere with, and your own deadlines that he set that he knows you’ll make sure to meet.

Jungkook gets caught up in the afternoon in another meeting with some of the Board members who came to visit. Biting his lip in frustration, he manages to not lose his mind as he sits through it, merely hoping to the heavens that you haven’t left yet despite the late hour. 

He speed walks down the hallway once he gets to his floor and almost panics when he sees your work space empty. But he spots your unfinished cup of coffee and he knows you won’t leave without cleaning up. He briefly sighs in relief when he hears shuffling from inside his room, walking closer to find you standing by his desk, with your back facing the door. You place a folder on his tray for signatures and a bound manual for review, then turn around and jerk in surprise when you see him standing there.

“I didn’t know your meeting had ended, sir,” you say, the formality grating his ears. All he wants is to hear you speak to him casually again, for you to call him by his name once more.

“It just did,” he hums. “I didn’t know if you were still here. I wanted to see you before you could leave.”

His words catch you off-guard but you try to look unaffected. 

“Is there anything else you need me to do, sir?” You ask, knowing that he’s past giving you work at this hour on a Friday, but you’re too nervous to think of what else he needs you for.

“No. I…” he stutters. “You, uh, you’ve been avoiding me,” he manages to say, his eyes pleading for you to look at him. 

But still, you don’t.

“I’m with you everyday, Mr. Jeon,” you insist, your tone cold. “I can’t possibly be avoiding you.”

“You haven’t looked at me all week.”

As if in reflex, you glance at him, then shift your eyes on the couch to your left.

“That doesn’t count,” he says, his voice oozing in desperation for you to just spare him some time, something you’ve never heard before.

So you give in, as you slowly meet his eyes, and you’re reminded why you didn’t want to do it in the first place. They’re so sullen. Tired, it seems, but just lacking in light. They were always so expressive, even when they’re angry, and even more when they’re sad. 

“I just…” you start, knowing that with all that’s happened and with all the stress and pressure he has to endure, you can’t be another one in his list to have to try to figure out. You at least owe it to him to be honest.

You look at the door, suddenly conscious of who might wander in your area, and Jungkook takes your cue, closing it once you nod. 

“So, why have you been avoiding me?” He asks again, his voice gaining a bit of life now that you’ve given him a chance to talk.

“I was just ashamed,” you admit, looking away as the scene from last week plays in your mind again. “I said things I shouldn’t have and they made you uncomfortable and—”

“How do you know that?” He interjects.

“Because you pulled away!” You say too loudly, lowering your head in embarrassment at the clear frustration you’re expressing. “I thought you wanted to… uh…”

“Kiss you,” he finishes, earning him the slightest of nods from you. 

“But you didn’t and I just felt so embarrassed,” you say, your lips quivering now at how much you’re saying, at how much you’re baring yourself to him, unsure if he’ll do the same. “That was completely out of line.”

“You weren’t wrong though,” he almost whispers as he slowly walks towards you. “About what I wanted to do. You seemed to want that, too, but we were out there and I… I was scared that if I’d done anything you weren’t ready for, then I’d push you away. I still did anyway. Because you’ve spent the entire week avoiding me, talking to me formally, not fixing my tie…”

You stop the giggle that you almost let out, but you can’t help your tiny smile as he whines about what you’ve been purposely doing. 

“I just didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to face you after that,” you explain, knowing there’s so much more to say but that you’ll start with this. “But you avoided me, too,” you suddenly pout. 

“What did you expect me to do?” He exclaims. “You did it first! You know I’m not good with these things.”

“Neither am I.”

Jungkook controls himself from kissing the frown off your face and instead, he walks closer. He gets to appreciate you now as he shamelessly eyes your form, the pastel-colored long sleeved blouse tucked inside your white skirt making his heart race. 

He spots your shy smile as you try to turn away, and he steps closer, wanting to see more. 

“You still aren’t gonna look at me?” He asks, the soft desperation in his voice prompting you to be bold again.

“I can’t. I might lose my mind,” you admit, groaning right after at your own honesty. 

“I’d quite like that,” he hums. “I… I was actually losing my mind all week. It didn’t feel right to have you feel so far away. I wanted to fix things but I didn’t know how.”

“That makes both of us,” you sigh, allowing yourself to finally gaze at him in his black suit, the classic look taking your breath away every time. “But I guess it’s the same with me. I didn’t know how badly I wanted you close until you weren’t anymore.”

You hesitatingly reach out your hand, an attempt to let him know that close is what you want him to be, but also to see for yourself if this is real, if he really is just breaths away from you, and if he could be even closer.

“I’m not pulling away this time,” he assures you, his boyish smile sending your mind in a frenzy.

Your fingers graze his chest, the way it quickly rises and falls telling you that his heart is probably racing as fast as yours. You fiddle with the neck of his tie before pulling it to bring him closer. He follows your lead, stepping forward and meeting your eyes, seeming like he doesn’t want his off of you. 

“So uh, are you losing your mind now?” He whispers teasingly. 

The way he utters the words with such yearning is a contrast to the shy look on his face. It’s a side of him you’re not ready for, but it’s one you’re thoroughly enjoying. It’s also pushing you to be even more shameless, as you nod and take his hand this time, placing it on your waist so you could feel his touch again. He’s gentle, trailing his fingers up and down your sides. 

“I am,” you manage to say, and you wish he could tell by the way you’re panting that his effect on you is way beyond your control now, and that it’s something you want to embrace. You mirror his smile, soft and warm yet full of desire.

He makes his move, placing his hand on your cheek as he eliminates whatever distance is left. And he stands there, just one breath away. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about that night, wishing I’d done things differently,” he heaves, his eyes flitting to your lips constantly, “wishing I had been brave enough to do what I’ve been wanting to do for so long.”

You lick your lips in tandem with his, and once you feel him thumb your cheek, it’s all over for you. With a whisper of his name, you hold your breath, and the next thing you feel is his mouth on yours. 

He kisses you deeply, expressing just how much he’s been wanting to do this. You smile as you return his desire, suddenly feeling like you’re floating, as if he’s some dream that you’re able to reach, like he’s that beautiful thing that’s tangible, that you can touch, that you can taste.

You moan once his tongue gains entrance, entangling with yours and dominating you immediately until he’s all you can breathe in. He cups your face, directing it where he wants, while his one hand trails down your back to knead your ass, as if to keep himself steady as he loses himself in you. Your breathing quickens even more as the pleasure rises, and with your fingers palming his chest and gripping his collar, he pushes you against his table. 

He cages you and keeps you in place while he devours your lips, and you feel him all over you just as you wanted. You’re hypnotized by his scent, by his warm breath, and by the large hands that now grip your waist and lift you to sit on the edge of his desk. 

Your mind is hazy, high on the drug that is his kiss, lust-filled and passionate and relentless. You yearn for him even more the longer you taste him, feel him, and there’s no part of you that wants this to end. Your moans push him to kiss you harder, leaving you a whimpering mess and with a mind that's truly unable to think a single thought outside of this trance-like feeling. His arms now wrap around you, and his hands, seemingly desperate to touch every part of you that he can, trail up and down your back, as if to caress you, as if to say that he won’t stop, that he won’t let you go.

Finally needing air, he removes his lips from yours only to travel to the most sensitive parts of you - on the shell of your ear that his tongue grazes repeatedly, and on your neck that he licks and sucks vigorously. You feel the chills all over your body, and you grind against him to try to satiate that growing need of yours, as you start to feel the dampness in your underwear. His hardening length makes you want everything he can give you, rules and boundaries be damned. 

This isn’t like you but you’ve never felt this much pleasure and desire in all your life. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the ecstasy that kissing and feeling him would give. You feel his desperation and desire for you, as he grunts and moans your name, aching to feel more, to do more. You want to live in this moment, and then live it everyday, just take him in and take everything and give him everything. 

But you should’ve known that some things are too good to be true. And much as you hope and imagine for things to turn out a certain way in belief that you deserve good things in this world, they don’t. Those don’t happen to people like you. There’s always something underneath it all, as the fantasy shatters like a glass ceiling breaking at his words.

“Stay, ___. Don’t leave,” he hums against you, the tip of his nose gliding against your neck as he takes in your scent. “Please don’t resign. I can’t… I—”

You feel frozen as you process what he’s said. “Wha-what?” You manage to ask, your mind slowly waking up now. 

His lips take a pause at devouring your skin and he faces you, his chest heaving and his eyes glassy and pleading as he repeats his words.

“Don’t leave, ___. Don’t resign. Stay with me. I need you next to me.” 

“Where is this coming from?” You demand, your heart racing now for a different reason, your anxiety building at how he could’ve known of your plans. You pull away to get a better look at him, with guilt now painting his eyes.

“I… I overheard you and Mr. Ri talking last night,” he admits shamefully. “I didn’t mean to. I was going to just walk away but you talked about leaving and what you feel about me and I just… I froze. I don’t want you to go anywhere, ___. I need you here.”

The silence drags on as you let his words settle, words you thought you wanted to hear. But not like this, you realize. This isn’t how you imagined he’d tell you he wants to be with you. 

He attempts to cup your cheek again but you pull yourself back, the rejection breaking him this time.

“You knew I wanted to kiss you last week,” you start, your voice shaking as the pieces fit together. “You knew yet you pulled away. You let a whole week pass with this distance, with no attempt from you to talk to me about it, or to even tell me what you feel but then you learn last night, after listening to a conversation you had no part in, that I like you. And tonight, you kiss me because suddenly you need me? Because you want me to stay next to you?”

“I—” Jungkook starts, unable to say anything as you put it the way you do. 

He’s wanted you for so long and always had reasons to keep his distance. He tried to gain the courage to talk to you this week, even as you avoided him, but he didn’t. There was just so much fear, so much worry about what he should do, about you asking him to forget about it, about possibly pushing you away even more. He didn’t intend for things to happen this way but for you to think that he’s only doing this in an attempt to keep you from resigning is all kinds of wrong, even if in hindsight, that’s exactly what it looks like. He could’ve said something earlier, he could’ve told you what he felt, and he would’ve been brave enough if he really wanted to. 

“You knew how I felt and you kissed me so I’d stay,” you repeat. “You hate change and me leaving will change everything for you and this… this is how you make sure I don’t.”

Stepping down from the desk, you realize how much you’d lost yourself in him, with your skirt bunched up and your blouse all creased. You fix yourself, suddenly ashamed, and suddenly unsure where you stand. It took so much of you to admit what you felt for him and now it seems that he hadn’t been into you the way that you thought. 

You want him with you, but he wants you here, that’s the difference. 

“I… want you,” Jungkook says, the words suddenly hard for him to say, as he gets choked up at the distance you’re creating. “I guess I always have. I just couldn’t do anything because I had to be professional and there were boundaries I couldn’t cross. But I couldn’t help it. Those don’t matter to me anymore. Only you do.” 

His pleading eyes ask you to believe him, to understand him this time. But your silence and the way you look at him in disappointment tell him it’s not something you’re able to do. 

“I never thought you’d feel the same way,” he continues. “And now I know that you do and that just means we can figure it out, right? Staying means we get to be together everyday. We… we get to have this everyday. Don’t you… don’t you want that?”

This is when you realize that much as you want to believe in his sincerity, it’s hard when he thinks of you as a necessity. You make his life easier. You’re his assistant, after all. And that makes you unsure if he only wants you because he needs you, or if they’re just the same thing to him. 

He didn’t even ask you why you wanted to leave. Maybe that should tell you enough.

“___, please. I just want to be with you.”

It’s also at this moment when you realize just how much you’ve fallen for him. You’d feared that if he asked you to stay, you would, and that means putting another person’s needs ahead of yours again, just like what you’ve done all these years. Staying would mean that you’d be unable to find yourself outside of all this, and you’ve given up too much not to choose your own happiness this time, even if it means saying goodbye to the person who also makes you happy.

Finding what little strength you have in you, you turn to him. “I don’t want to stay, Jungkook,” you say, your heart breaking as you utter the words, even more when you ask him to forget about everything that happened tonight. “We can’t do this. I can’t do this with you. Not like this. I’m so sorry.”

With your smashed heart in your hands, you do the hard thing and walk out the door, leaving in your wake a man whose broken pieces that you’ve put together all shattered once again. 

Walking down the block to get to the bus stop feels like a marathon, as the street feels so long with the heavy burden you’re carrying weighing you down too much. But you manage to get there, only to decide that you’d much rather spend the ride home on your own. You turn to a street to hail a cab then realize once you get in one that it was the spot where Jungkook had seen you, drenched under the rain with a sprained ankle. 

He healed parts of you that night, with his quiet assurance that you didn’t have to go through your struggles on your own. You’d hold on to that thought months later, though you’re unsure about now - much as things hurt at this moment, all you want is to be alone.

You get off two stops early and mindlessly walk towards the convenience store, thinking that some snacks for dinner would do. You don’t really feel like eating but your body’s needs are greater than your own desire to eat. Walking down the aisles, you decide you’re only good for some cup noodles tonight. You don’t even deserve boiled eggs that you suddenly craved, nor honey chips, and you definitely don’t deserve dessert after what you allowed to happen earlier. 

You stop your movements once you realize you’re sitting on the same spot where you and Jungkook had eaten when he drove you home that night he took you to the park. It had been a terrible evening after that incident with your ex, but Jungkook was the protective one who helped shoulder all the anger that you were too exhausted to feel. He was a reliable and comforting presence, familiar yet new with his warmth. During the occasional moments in the weekend after when your mind would go to that night, you’d think of Jungkook and how he made you feel safe.

It feels too much, so you take your noodles and finish them on the bench outside. You walk home after, letting the crisp evening air envelop you as your mind replays what happened. 

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to feel someone the way you wanted to feel him, but you suppose that’s why it hurts as much as it does. You wanted him to want you as much as you did, and you were perhaps foolish to think he’d have the same reasons as you. Maybe you were really just stupid for feeling anything in the first place, knowing your place in his world. You’re everything convenient and easy and familiar and despite the week of walking on eggshells around him, you gave in so quickly. He knew what to do when it came to you. 

And maybe that’s on you. You allowed yourself to feel so much for a man whose life is so intertwined with yours that it’s hard to know what’s real. Yet you know that despite all that, your desire for him is still too strong. It’s why you had to leave right away. 

Another moment of him pleading for you to not resign and you might’ve given in again. Another second of hearing him ask you to be with him and you would’ve believed him - that there was sincerity in all that, that he’d be with you regardless if you stayed in the company or not. Now you’re left with the thought that the convenience was what he wanted, that as he crossed the line, it was all or nothing for him. And that you’d be the weak one, willing to give up what else you could be outside of all this just for him. 

Perhaps you’re also asking for too much. He’s used to a life without much consequences to his actions. There’s a lot he doesn’t know, especially what you had to endure and give up to be here and what you want out of life now that you’re old enough to take control of it. Maybe for him, asking you to stay was that declaration and proof of his feelings; doing so took so much out of him already that thinking of what life would be like without being with you everyday was too hard of a reality to accept or work around. 

You’re too out of it that you don’t realize that you’ve been standing outside your door. You’re thankful for the weekend at least. You’ll spend half of it in bed, and the other half preparing yourself for how you’ll face him again, and how you’ll finally say goodbye. 

You enter and sigh at the warmth inside. Dropping your bag on the floor, you stand by your tiny dining table and take a bite off the apple you find in your fridge. You gaze at your shelf, the one filled with photos of your family and friends and a few more of different sceneries that you took using the disposable camera that Jungkook had gifted you for your birthday. It’s another reminder of how much a part of your life he’s become, how, of all the people in the world, he’d been the one to show you that capturing moments is a gift you shouldn’t take for granted. 

You often wondered what moments he liked to capture. He doesn’t have photos in his penthouse other than those of structures and buildings that are artistically taken. There are framed old blueprints and historical pieces but nothing of him and the people in his life. 

Maybe he doesn’t have good enough memories he wants to keep. For a short moment, you wished that the times he shared with you are ones he’d like to hold onto. But maybe the idea would hurt more - you’ll just be a memory like he would be to you. 

You always wanted to keep only good ones of him, but the sight of him rooted in his spot and in shock as you turned him down is far from something you want to remember. He’s something you didn’t know you wanted, but he stands between you and the life you’ve always wished for yourself - one where you get to decide, to be free, to be happy. 

He’ll let you go and forget all this, you think to yourself. You’ll be the one who walked away. And he’ll be the one who didn’t run after you.

Jungkook is stunned as he watches your retreating form. The sounds of your heels against the marble floor disappear as he remains unmoving from his spot in his room where he’d kissed you just moments earlier. You felt and tasted just like he imagined, and the moment his lips touched yours, he knew he’d want to keep kissing you over and over again. 

It was the first time in a long time that he allowed himself to be honest about how he felt, giddy emotions included. It felt freeing to be able to admit all of that to you after all these months of denying it and walking around eggshells when it came to you. He’d been sure, after last night, that you felt the same way, even more when he felt how your body reacted and how your heart raced, aching for him as much as his heart was yearning for you. 

You sounded hypnotizing, too. The way you’d moaned his name ignited something in him that none of the women he’d slept with had ever done before, and he knows it’s because he’d never felt anything genuine for them. They were good for the moment but he knew, especially the instance that he felt you close, that he wanted you for more than that. He wanted the soft touches and the gentle whispers, the longing looks and the intertwined hands. He wanted more than he thought he would, but during his most vulnerable state, he uttered the words he’d been dying to say since last night when he learned of your plans.

He asked you to stay. He told you he needs you, that he wants to be with you.

They sounded like pleas and maybe that’s what they were. From the deepest and coldest nooks of his heart, he was pleading for you to not leave. He’d finally admitted what he’d been so scared to accept, but all his words did were hurt you. 

You insisted that all he cared about was the convenience of being together everyday, that you staying meant he’d get to keep all that was familiar. And he doesn’t know what would be taken away from you if you did. 

You wanted him, too, didn’t you? Wasn’t that enough? And wasn’t being with him all that mattered? 

Sure, there’d be complications, but those are things he knows you’d both be able to face, they’re things you can navigate around and figure out together because this isn't just a one-time, spur-of-the-moment type of thing. He wants all of you, everything with you, whatever it takes. 

He hadn’t realized it until that second he held you in his arms. And then again when you pulled away, looked at him with glassy eyes, and told him you couldn’t stay. 

He’d been too hurt to run after you. He didn’t know what to say then. How would he, when you’re the one who couldn’t commit to what you felt by staying around? He felt that betrayal, of that feeling of inadequacy, of his feelings for you not being enough. He bared his emotions to you after being so scared of doing so, and then you crushed his heart just like that, with his broken pieces that you’d just put together, scattered on the floor. 

This isn’t like him. It’s been a long time since he’s allowed himself to feel so much for another person, to care for them, to want them in a way that scares him. But you showed him a life where it was possible to open himself up again, to find out what happiness could feel like this time, and in that same breath, you took it all away.

He’s not sure where to go from here. But he decides he’ll think about that tomorrow. Tonight, he just wants to forget. Tonight, he just wants to wallow in his sadness, erase the memory of your touch and the feel of your mouth against his, and let it all go. 

Jungkook instructs Mr. Ri to go home. He’ll drive himself, he insists. There’s just no one right now he wants to be around. 

He drinks a glass of whiskey for the road and manages to get home in one piece. He settles on the couch as he finishes another half bottle, then chugs down a few cans of beer after. The image of you gets blurry. His mouth numbs and he starts forgetting your taste on his lips, too. 

His head falls on the pillow and his hand mindlessly reaches out. There’s no heartbeat that he feels; he’s forgotten how fast yours was already. The sound of your laughter and then of your moans is replaced with a buzzing in his ear as his mind starts to fall away. 

The warmth of your body is gone but somehow he feels hot, so hot but he can’t get his clothes off. He struggles a little, his fingers aren’t doing their job so he gives up instead, curls into the corner of the couch, and for the briefest moment, he sees your smile so clearly. And then his mind drifts away completely, taking his confusion and yearning for you along with it. 

At least for now, there’s not much of you he remembers. But somewhere deep inside, he knows that’ll all change when he wakes up in the morning and searches for you, knowing you won’t be around to tell him that everything is gonna be okay.

Hoseok massages his temple as his sixth call to his cousin in the last half hour remains unanswered. 

“He’s still not picking up,” he groans, the unusual feeling of annoyance bubbling inside him at Jungkook’s irresponsibility.

It’s Saturday morning and some friends of their family flew from Europe last night for lunch at the Jeons’ estate. This gathering was scheduled in time for their grandfather’s death anniversary today, and it’s an event that Mr. Jeon was adamant that Jungkook and Hoseok attend as their respective families’ representatives and as heirs of the company. Those friends had been there when their grandfather built Jeon Corporation from the ground up, and welcoming them is a sign of respect for that friendship and for the memory of the man they’re celebrating today. 

Jungkook had informed Mr. Ri that he’ll be driving himself to the estate and promised to be there before 11 AM, as what his father had requested. It’s half past that and he’s still nowhere to be found. He hasn’t been picking up his phone and his friends claim they don’t know where he is. Knowing how important today is, Hoseok wanted to accompany Mr. Ri in going to the younger man’s apartment to pick him up and find out why he’s late. When the elder Jeon asks, which he will, Hoseok would at least have a reason to give. It just better be a good one.

They both arrive at the building and are informed that Jungkook’s cars are still in their respective slots. He’s not in any of the amenities and the guards report that they haven’t seen him since he arrived on his own last night. He may not be a fan of these types of events but Jungkook always shows up. He knows what today means for their family; if not for his father, then at least for his grandfather, a man he respected and looked up to. If, for some reason, he failed to wake up, then he must be in a bad condition, and Hoseok either has to scold his cousin, or cover for him.

With no one answering the door, Mr. Ri uses his access and enters. It’s dark and quiet inside, with the blinds all closed. When he and Hoseok find Jungkook passed out on the couch with an empty whiskey bottle and beer cans on the floor, it’s the same moment that Mr. Ri’s phone rings, and it’s your name that lights up the screen.

“Hi, Mr. Ri,” you groggily say. “I’m sorry I missed your calls. I had a late night and just woke up. Is everything okay?”

“I’m not sure,” he sighs, as he watches Hoseok pull Jungkook from his cowering form in an attempt to get him to wake up.

“What do you mean?” You ask, standing from your bed now, suddenly awake. 

“I was calling to ask if you knew where Jungkook was. Their family gathering is today and he was supposed to be at his parents’ house 30 minutes ago but he wasn’t. He wasn’t picking up our calls either.”

“Oh, I… I don’t know where he is,” you say softly, the mention of his name reminding you of what transpired last night, the image of Jungkook’s dejected look appearing in your mind. You worry about him though, wondering what time he got home. “Have you found him? Is he okay?” 

“Hoseok and I are at his apartment and he’s passed out drunk,” Mr. Ri states, as Jungkook finally opens his eyes and mumbles some words that the older man has to walk closer to hear. “What happened last night, ___? Why is he calling your name? And why is he asking for you to come back?”

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that Jungkook had spent last night drinking his feelings away. You know enough from your time with him that it’s what he does when he’s stressed or mad or frustrated, and then he wakes up the next morning and hits the gym to deal with his hangover. There’s none of that today, apparently, and you stop yourself from instructing Mr. Ri to prepare him some lemon ginger tea. 

“What happened last night, ___?” He repeats. “Did you fight?”

“We…” you start, knowing that if there’s anyone who has to know about last night, it’s the man on the other end of the phone. “We, uh… we kissed. And then he asked me not to resign then I pulled away.”

Walking towards the kitchen to hand Hoseok a glass of water, Mr. Ri asks if you’d told Jungkook of your plans, stating that he hadn’t told him about it.

“He overheard us talking last Thursday,” you respond. “He knew what I felt about him, kissed me, then asked me to stay. He said he didn’t want me to go, that he wanted to be with me, and that we could be together everyday. It didn’t feel right,” you continue, your voice shaking now as you recall the conversation. “It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. We were supposed to talk about it. He wasn’t supposed to use my feelings against me like that.”

“Did you tell him why you’re planning on leaving?”

“No… He just went on about needing me to be with him and I… I couldn’t bear it,” you say, feeling the tears dance around your eyes. “You told me that I could always leave but even then, I’d always have a reason to stay but it would be their reason, not mine. I finally built the courage to decide on this because you know I need this. I don’t want him to be my reason this time. Or else I’ll never be able to let all of it go.”

“I know,” Mr. Ri sighs, knowing more than anyone what you mean. 

He’ll never be brave like you, but he understands that burden, that desire to just be free; he knows what it’s like to be held back even if it’s your own decision. Because at the end of the day, you’ll always think you have a debt to be paid. He knows he does, but he’ll always believe that you don’t. Surviving was always enough.

“But I think he has to know, ___,” he continues. “He wouldn’t let himself go through this kind of suffering if you don’t mean that much to him. You have to tell him the truth. And I mean everything. You owe it to yourself, too. I know he means a lot to you but you can’t move forward in any way, with or without him, if you’ll just keep him in the dark.”

You let Mr. Ri’s words settle. You told yourself the moment you entered the company that you won’t let your past define you, including your relationship with this family. You’ll work hard and everyone else will know you for that, and not for any other reason. You also knew that you’d spend every second of being here trying to prove to yourself that you’re capable, despite the irony that you were the one defining your time here based on your past that you just somehow couldn’t run away from. 

You weren’t supposed to feel anything for Jungkook. You could’ve gone on with your plan of resigning without feeling bad that you were leaving him behind. And even in that alternative reality where he’d ask you to stay, it would’ve been easy to say no. What makes this difficult is that you started to care. You got scared that if he asked you, you would stay. And now that he did, you have to be stronger than your desire to be with him.

Leaving would be hard, but staying would be much harder. 

You wish it was easy to make him understand. But you suppose without him knowing the truth, he wouldn’t be able to. 

So you give Mr. Ri permission. 

“I don’t know how to tell him,” you say. “You would. Make him understand. Maybe he’ll let me go. Maybe he’ll still come after me. And maybe he’ll forgive me, too.”

Mr. Ri hums and drops the call. He returns to the living room where Jungkook is now seated upright on the couch, downing his second glass of water and taking medicine to deal with the hangover. The blinds are now up, causing him to squint his eyes. At least he looks alive now. 

“That was ___,” Mr. Ri says. “She was wondering how you were.”

“Did you tell her I look terrible?”Jungkook asks bitterly.

“I did. She also told me what happened.”

“What… happened?” Hoseok wonders. “Did you have a big fight?”

Knowing he has no way out of this, Jungkook tells the truth. “We, uh, we kissed,” he answers, earning him a gasp from his cousin, who clarifies that while he’s not that surprised, he’s curious as to why both of you aren’t together right now.

“___ plans on resigning. He asked her not to,” Mr. Ri answers. “But you… you have to let her go, Jungkook. She needs to learn who she is and what she can do without anything holding her back.”

“If that’s her reason, then she has to know that she can keep learning who she is and what she can do here, with me,” Jungkook insists, slowly gaining clarity, as all the words he couldn’t say last night suddenly come out so easily. “There’s so much she can do. If what we feel for each other is the issue and that means she can’t directly work for me, then there are other departments where she’d fit well in. This isn’t just about convenience for me. I want to see her everyday but having her around means I get to make sure she’s taken care of, that she’s treated well.”

“And then what? She’ll feel indebted to you because of that?” Mr. Ri counters. “This is more than just developing her skills or building her career, Jungkook. This is about being someone outside of this company. It’s about doing something without feeling like she constantly has to prove that she deserves what she has.”

“And she does. Who does she have to prove anything to? We’re beyond that. Everyone knows she’s capable.”

“She has to prove it to herself. It may be hard for you to understand but she… she won’t get to accept all that she is until she’s ridden herself of the burden she carries. For as long as she works for your family, she’ll always feel it.”

The words feel a little too personal, Jungkook thinks, as Mr. Ri talks about your insecurities as if he’d seen you live them, and perhaps he has. The older man witnessed those first few turbulent weeks, and having known you since you started working here through the CEO, perhaps Mr. Ri had seen how your spirit broke a little because of Jungkook.

But still, something about the way Mr. Ri looks sullenly at him says that there’s more to what the older man had seen, as if he himself is pleading for Jungkook to let you go this way, as if the care runs deep and the words carry so much more emotion.

“She needs this, Jungkook,” Mr. Ri continues. “She’s planned on leaving a few times before but her gratitude towards your family always pulled her back. If you really care about her, you won’t let that happen this time. If you want to be with her, you’ll have to do it without her being here. Regardless of what she feels for you, she needs this more. You can let her go without really letting her go, you have to know that.”

It all feels too much and Jungkook’s mind is filled with so many questions. What do you owe his family? How does proving yourself have anything to do with leaving the company? How does he fit into all this? What do you need time away for? And how can he be with you at the end of it? Would you still want that, given that he didn’t even ask you why?

“How are you sure that’s what she needs?” Jungkook asks, curiosity getting the best of him.  

“I’ve known her for 20 years, Jungkook,” Mr. Ri sighs. “I know it’s what she believes.”

Jungkook may still be dealing with a hangover, but he knows his ears didn’t betray him. Twenty years, that’s how long you’ve known the man he trusts with his life, the man his father trusts with his family’s life. 

The tale is an open secret. Ri Byung-hun was a kid who grew up in the streets. He tried to steal from Jungkook’s grandfather, whose construction business then was slowly taking off. The elder man took pity on the young teen and sent him to school, and Byung-hun showed his gratitude by working for the family, eventually becoming Jungkook’s father’s chauffeur, bodyguard, and closest confidant all in one. The loyalty goes both ways, and it’s stood the test of time. 

Jungkook doesn’t know all the details but he knows enough. What he doesn’t know is who you are in Mr. Ri’s life, and why Jungkook hadn’t heard of you before. 

“How do you know ___?” Jungkook finally manages to ask. “Who is she to you?”

“I know ___ because of her mother. And over 20 years ago, Cho Hye-soo was your father’s assistant.”

“She— what?” 

Jungkook can’t hide his shock, and neither can Hoseok, who looks just as surprised about the truth as he is. His cousin would’ve been in his early teens at that time, and as it was when it came to their family’s children, training to become company heirs starts early, but they don’t get immersed until during their late teenage years. 

“I… I know Mrs. Cho,” Hoseok says. “I’ve met her several times but I… I never knew. They never said anything.”

“It wasn’t something they wanted people to know,” Mr. Ri explains. “Other than both of your parents, I’m the only other person who does. Too much time has passed for people to make the connection. It was just better that no one knew.” 

“What else did they not want people to know?” Jungkook asks. “What did ___ and her mom do? What… what do they owe our family?”

The elder man knew that at some point, Jungkook was going to have to learn the truth. He just didn’t think it would have to be under these conditions, and that he’d be the one telling the young man about how your lives are intertwined, that whatever pain you both carried growing up, those would always lead you back to each other. 

“Your father and Hye-soo were no different to how you and ___ are,” Mr. Ri starts. “He’d just been appointed President and he was under a lot of pressure - from your grandfather, the Board, the rest of your family… He was always stressed and it didn’t help that he was a perfectionist, just like you. That obviously affected your family, but it also affected those who worked for him, especially Hye-soo, who felt that she had a lot to prove.”

She didn’t have a Seoul education but she was smart and resourceful, incredibly hardworking and devoted, something you inherited from her, the elder man shares. The similarities are striking, and Jungkook braces himself, hoping that they end there. 

“She always had to work overtime, including weekends, and that took a lot of time away from being with ___. Hye-soo would leave her daughter in the library where her friend worked, and that seemed to be enough. But of course, it wasn’t easy, especially with a partner who lost his job and started drinking to cope.”

As Mr. Ri continues, Jungkook starts to fear something else, and so he asks. 

“Did… did he hurt them?”

“He yelled a lot,” Mr. Ri answers. “I’d hear it sometimes during breaks when she’s on the phone with him and it crushed me every time. Hye-soo wouldn’t say much, just that he was a good guy who just didn’t know how to deal with hardships. She never justified his actions until of course, that piece of shit started hitting her.”

Jungkook’s heart breaks at the words, unable to imagine growing up in a household like that - feeling afraid, unsafe, and unfree. 

“Hye-soo assured me that Kang-ho never hurt ___. She was good at that, at protecting her child. One time, she was called to work on a Saturday and that didn’t go well with him, but she… she always puts her daughter first, and that meant work would always be her priority because it’s what pays the bills and what sends her to school,” Mr. Ri narrates, his eyes growing more dejected by the second as he recalls those times. 

“She was rushing and couldn’t properly conceal the bruise on her face. She was worried that’s why she took ___ with her. Hye-soo kept crying as your father asked her what happened. She apologized for being late and for bringing her daughter to work, and she asked to stay in the office for the night until she figured out where they could go. I had never seen her break down like that,” he says, his voice shaking now. “And I won’t forget how scared ___ looked. She was just 10 years old then, clinging to her mother and not wanting to let her go. We were all strangers to her but somehow, she knew that we were there to protect them.”

The silence goes on, as both men take in Mr. Ri’s words, but it’s Hoseok who asks what happened after, and eventually, what got you here. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Jeon didn’t hesitate to help,” the older man shares. “They had Hye-soo and ___ stay at the staff house in their estate for a few nights until they got a new place to stay. I helped them get their stuff after Kang-ho figured out what was happening and ran.  The police had a warrant for his arrest but they couldn’t find him for days.” 

Turning to Jungkook, he adds, “your parents paid for all the legal and medical fees. Because Kang-ho knew they were helping, you all had to go away until he was found. Hye-soo and ___ went to Busan where he couldn’t trace them; your parents stayed in one of their houses in Gwangju while you and your brother were in Gwacheon.” Mr. Ri sighs at the memory as he recalls those days. “The reason why you were in that cabin was so they could protect you. I know you held a grudge against them for years because you thought they just left you there but they couldn’t stay with you, Jungkook. You were all in danger and they had to keep you and Jeong-sik safe.”

Jungkook looks back at that night when everything changed for him. Things already weren’t going well with his brother; the three-year gap and the way they were always compared kept them from getting along. His parents knew that, yet they still left him with Jeong-sik, who abandoned him in the woods when they played hide-and-seek. That’s where Jungkook was left alone, lost and scared under the rain, the thunder roaring as he yelled for someone to come. He’s always lived with that fear, always carried that memory of anger and blame within him that transformed into a habit of just pushing people away, of keeping them out because that was better to accept than the knowledge that people he trusted left him on his own. 

But there’s a reason, he learns now, one that his parents kept from him to protect you and your mother, too. It’s all too much, but he thinks now that maybe there’s a reason why you were so patient with him, why you didn’t judge him that night at the guest house, why you somehow understood what he was so scared of. He doesn’t know if you know that the night at the cabin had anything to do with what you and your mother went through, but regardless, maybe that’s why he always felt so strongly about you. The connection he was yearning for was always there, it’s tied to something, and he realizes it’s tied to your shared past.

“Did the police find the man?” Jungkook asks now, his headache somehow worsening from all the things he’s learning. But he just wants to know that you weren’t even more hurt, that there was a way that his parents kept you safe. 

“I did,” Mr. Ri responds. “I still had contact with people in the streets, and I left Gwacheon once I got a call that they knew where he was staying. I hunted him down and I handed him over… with a bloodied face and a few broken bones. They charged him for domestic violence and a few other crimes, including drug possession that would keep him in prison for years, long enough for Hye-soo and ___ to recover.”

“And what about you? Were you charged?” Jungkook wonders.

“No, I claimed self-defense and I—”

“But it wasn’t, was it?” Jungkook counters, knowing there’s more to what Mr. Ri is saying. 

“It wasn’t,” the old man admits, turning away as he says the words. “I could’ve done more but I… I couldn’t lose myself to the anger even if it was all I felt. I knew Hye-soo wouldn’t have forgiven me if I did.”

“You loved her, didn’t you?” Jungkook says, dawning on him now that everything Mr. Ri had done was so he could protect your mother and you. He realizes that all the times that the elder man looked out for you was because he was looking out for someone he truly cared about, someone who mattered the most to the person who mattered the most to him.

“I did,” Mr. Ri sighs. “I still do.”

Jungkook recalls the night during the team building and the elder man’s words, about the woman he’d loved for so long, and that moving on from her meant expending all that love to those he cares about, and now Jungkook knows that he was referring to you. 

“Did she know? And did she love you back?”

“She… she asked me to move to Busan with her and ___,” Mr. Ri answers, his eyes faraway as memories of that conversation come rushing back, how he’d wanted to just run away and build a life he never thought he could have with the woman he’d fallen so hard for, but how he had to make the hardest decision then, knowing it was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. 

“Why didn’t you?” Jungkook wonders. 

“I owe everything I have to your family, Jungkook,” Mr. Ri explains. “They gave me a second chance. Your grandfather got me off the streets, your father taught me everything I know, they… they had my records cleaned. They did it when I was a kid and they did it again when I was an adult. The only way I could ever pay them back was through my loyalty. I couldn’t leave, not after everything they’ve done for me.”

“But you loved her. She was your second chance,” Jungkook argues.

“And that love caused me to commit a crime I shouldn’t have. I was going to pay for it one way or another,” Mr. Ri responds. “That’s how I chose to do it, by letting her go, knowing that I’d be able to look after her and ___ better that way. Your father would protect me, and I would protect them. That’s… that’s how things go.”

It’s a tragic love story, Jungkook thinks. Two people who feel so much having to let each other go, their own pasts pushing them towards opposite directions. Decisions were made and that pulled them apart. He supposes that reciprocated feelings aren’t always enough.

“What happened after that?” Hoseok asks now, wanting to know as well how you and your mother managed, and if there’s any more danger that you face.

“They stayed in Busan for a few years. They only returned to Daegu after they learned that Kang-ho died in prison after acquiring some respiratory disease,” Mr. Ri replies. “Mr. and Mrs. Jeon helped with the move, too. They had me check on Hye-soo and ___ almost every month, just to make sure they were doing well. It was hard, of course. Hye-soo wasn’t earning the same as she was so she took another job just to keep ___ in a good school. Mr. Jeon knew that, so he kept offering to pay for her education but Hye-soo always turned him down. That continued until she got to college, and knowing that her mom won’t accept help again, ___ was the one who decided to take the offer. They paid for her tuition, and she eventually got an internship in the company. She took the job offer, too, and she’s just been working hard ever since, thinking that she has everything to prove.”

“Why does my father think he can buy people’s loyalty just like that?” Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief. “It traps people… it gives them no option.”

“I know it may seem that way but your father knows how important loyalty is, and it’s something that he gives, too. He trusts me just as much I trust him,” Mr. Ri defends. “But when it comes to Hye-soo and ___, it isn’t about loyalty but guilt. He blames himself for what happened to them. Even if it was all Kang-ho’s fault, your father always believed that if he hadn’t been so demanding, things wouldn’t have escalated. It was all the overtime, all the unfair requests that took Hye-soo’s time from her partner, from her daughter. He carries that guilt with him and how he treated her. In a way, I think that was his wake-up call. Work stopped consuming him after. He became considerate of his staff, asking about their families and how they’re doing. He tried to make it up to you and your brother but that seemed to be the hardest thing for him; he didn’t know how to get your trust back.”

“But wasnt ___ choosing to work here about loyalty? She stayed every time he asked her to. She wouldn’t have if she felt indebted to our family,” Jungkook remarks, not wanting to delve into his own relationship with his father. 

“She wanted to repay them just so her mom would stop carrying that burden,” Mr. Ri says. “They were able to get away and build a new life where they were safe because of your parents and for ___, that always meant everything. She planned to work for them, but even a part of her felt that all the opportunities she was given was out of kindness. She always felt she didn’t deserve it but your parents also think they can’t ever make it up to her and her mother enough.”

At the silence, he continues. “People are complicated that way, I guess. We all have our own burdens to carry, our own past to deal with, our own actions to make peace with and accept. We make decisions based on what we think is best and just hope we don’t regret them in the future. But we also make them as a way to take control of our own lives. Even if I regret letting Hye-soo go, I at least did it knowing that I’ll either have another chance at being with her, or that someone else will. And someone did, and I know for a fact that he loves her and ___ with all of him.”

“In that sense, maybe resigning is ___’s way of taking control of her life this time, don’t you think?” Hoseok turns to Jungkook, understanding where you’re coming from now, as he knows the feeling of not having to constantly prove yourself to others. “She finally wants to let that burden go, to live as she wishes without feeling like she doesn’t deserve what she has, even if it means not being next to you the way she wants to. If you make her stay, how do you think she can move on from all this? How can you be sure she’s happy?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, knowing it’s not enough to process everything he’s learned this morning. There’s that past he didn’t know he shared with you, there’s his relationship with his father that he doesn’t know how to mend, there’s his feelings for you, one that’s still so strong and inescapable. 

And then there’s the thought that you’d known everything all along. You’ve been patient with him, you've been kind and understanding. Was that all because you felt like you had to? Because he’s the son of the people you feel that you owe a lot to?

It’s not that Jungkook doubts your feelings for him, but he wonders if you do. Now that you’re able to make that decision to leave, what if walking away from his family also means you realize that your feelings are tied to that indebtedness, too? How real was it for you? And after you find yourself outside of all this, would you still want him?

The thoughts make his heart break, and this tells him that after knowing everything, he still can’t deny what he feels about you. He still wants you just as much. Maybe the familiarity he always felt was because you are familiar. Maybe the connection was because of a painful past you both share, of a kind of pain you both understand. Maybe the intensity of feelings is a remnant from his childhood, one that’s tied to yours in a serendipitous way. 

He’d like to think that even without knowing, you held out for him. You could’ve chosen to leave anytime before he came but you didn’t, and your paths crossed this way and he convinces himself that you were always meant to meet each other, that you were always meant to make up for how intertwined and unfortunate your lives are. You never met then but this time, when you did, it meant so much more. He could only hope that it’s something you hold onto as well, and that when you decide to finally walk away, it doesn’t mean you walk away from him completely, too. 

“Kook, I know there’s a lot to think about but you have to get going,” Hoseok disrupts his thoughts. “Your father still wants us at that lunch. I know grandfather would, too.”

“You should go ahead, Hoseok,” Mr. Ri says. “Just make an excuse to your uncle and say I’m helping Jungkook fix up. We’ll head there right away.”

“No, tell him that I know,” Jungkook insists. “If… if he’s always wanted to mend our relationship, he and I have to start being honest with each other.”

“I will,” Hoseok says as he stands up to leave. “Get your head together, alright? You’re gonna be fine.”

Jungkook massages his temples, knowing that he doesn’t have time to get a workout in and rid himself of this terrible hangover. But he tries, as he takes a warm shower and asks Mr. Ri to prepare him a cup of lemon ginger tea and get some ginseng jelly for the ride. 

The trip to his parents’ estate starts off quiet, but the thoughts in his head are so loud that the older man asks what else is bothering him. 

“How was her time in Busan?” Jungkook asks.

“It was good. She was a shy kid but she found good people she trusted and that meant everything,” Mr. Ri answers. “I visited them often, even when they returned to Daegu. But I stopped once ___ moved back to Seoul after college. I’d ask her about her mother every now and then. It was nice to hear how well they’re doing, and how happy they are with their new family. Min-woo’s a good man and his daughters love Hye-soo and ___ so much. It turned out well for them. When I think about that, it’s really hard not to justify the decisions I made.”

“Will you make them again? If given the chance?”

“If I still think it’s what’s best then, then I would. Sometimes we make decisions because of the other person, not exactly for ourselves. Sometimes that’s how we realize just how much we love them, you know? When their happiness trumps our own.”

Jungkook merely hums. While he doesn’t think he’s at that point with you, he cares enough to want you to have that chance to find your happiness, in whatever form that may be. And if leaving the company is what it takes, then he knows you deserve that and more. It doesn’t change the fact that he wishes you can search for it while being with him, but perhaps it’s better if you find your way back to him instead. He’ll at least know you chose him, and not because you felt like you owed it to him to stay.

They make it to his parents’ estate over an hour late. The guests have arrived and Jungkook greets them before finding his father. When their eyes meet, there’s a look of sadness in the elder man’s eyes. Perhaps it’s understanding; maybe it’s an apology.

His mother gives him a long and tight hug, one that he savors for the first time in a long while. He remained distant from his parents after he decided to pursue further studies and then work in their office abroad. It’s a relationship he’s still navigating. While his mother has always been present and affectionate, Jungkook is the one who stopped reciprocating. It just seemed easier that way, but he realizes that he’s missed her warmth after taking it for granted all these years. 

The lunch gathering lasts for a few hours. Jungkook tries to pay attention to the conversations since engaging requires too much from him, especially after the morning he’s had. But his father doesn’t reprimand him this time, and for that, he’s thankful. Hoseok keeps him on his toes though, but Jungkook’s mind constantly wanders towards you. He wonders how you got home last night, if you managed to get some rest, and if you’re spending your time being angry at him or if, by any chance, you’re missing him like he’s missing you.

It’s 5 PM by the time the last guest leaves, and with Hoseok and A-yeong needing to attend a dinner party, Jungkook is left to speak with his parents alone. 

“I heard you know the truth now,” his father says as he sits across from Jungkook in the garden. “I’m sorry I kept it from you.”

“Did you intend for me not to know and find out from someone else?” Jungkook asks. 

“___ applied to the company with the intention of contributing in a small way,” his father says. “She made it without any say from me and that’s a testament to her skills and capabilities. When we met after her first day, she asked that she not be treated any differently, and I agreed. I stayed true to my word and I kept my distance, but when I heard about how Mrs. Byun treated her, I knew I couldn’t just stand back. I encouraged her to apply for the EA position, knowing that she would be treated well. And with that, she asked me not to say who she is - not to Hoseok, and especially not to you. That’s not how she wants to be known. And I always respected her request.”

“Does it make any difference, son?” His mother asks. “Does knowing who she is to our family change the way you see her?”

“No, but it makes me wonder how she’d seen me all this time,” Jungkook says. “She put up with me despite how I treated her. She was kind even if I was distant. She… she let me open myself up and that’s… that’s why I like her. That's why I asked her to be with me.”

The surprise on his parents’ faces is immediate, but they stay calm, and it’s what prompts him to continue.

“I just hate to think that she suffered all that time because she still felt like she owed us. If you asked her to stay and help me, she wouldn’t have been able to turn you down. And what if… she’s confused her feelings for me for just… gratitude towards you?”

“Oh, my dear son,” his mother sighs, taking his hand as a form of comfort. “We are so sorry that all this has caused you to doubt her sincerity but if there’s one thing we know about ___ is that she’s genuine, and if you felt cared for by her, then she meant all that.”

“Yes, I did ask her to help you, because I knew that if there was someone who could get through to you, it would be her,” his father says this time.

“So you took advantage of her? Because you knew she’d do what you’d ask,” Jungkook huffs.

“I did that because I knew that she would care, that she would understand. Thinking about it now, perhaps I asked for too much,” the elder man shakes his head. “She’s a lot like her mother, and I’ve come to realize that you’re a lot like me. I needed someone like Hye-soo and somehow I just knew that you needed someone like ___. Both of you opening up and finding comfort in each other just happened, I suppose, and that’s not such a bad thing, is it?”

“I don’t know. Because now, she doubts what I feel and I’m not sure about what she feels, too,” Jungkook admits, letting his own insecurities get the better of him. He hates that he’s started to doubt you as well. 

“If it matters, I’ve seen how she is with you. She cares about you, she worries about you. And the way you respond to her just means that your heart feels her sincerity, too,” his father responds. “Don’t let anger or fear taint that for you.”

“Aren’t you mad about what happened?” Jungkook wonders. “She’s my assistant and I ended up crossing a line. I kissed her. In my office.”

“Perhaps I should be,” his father hums. “But with her planning on resigning, I suppose you’re already feeling a lot of emotions about that. I don’t want to add anymore. You’re an adult and you know that your actions have consequences. You just have to deal with them now. And don’t ever do that again.”

There’s no anger in his father’s words. In fact, there’s comfort that Jungkook has never heard before. It suspends his worries only for a short moment, as he’s reminded that you indeed plan on leaving. When that is, he doesn’t know. But he’s gonna have to start dealing with your loss just as he needs to deal with his feelings for you. It’s all too complicated; getting together despite what you both feel isn’t that simple. Your happiness comes first. He knows he cares so much that it’s what he wants you to focus on. 

“Letting her go now doesn’t mean you have to let her go for good,” his mother tells him. “She’ll choose you if that’s what her heart says. And at least then, you’ll know for sure that she still wants you after everything.”

Jungkook’s parents’ words echo in his mind for the rest of Saturday that he spends in his living room, choosing wine as his companion for the evening. There’s no intention of getting hammered unlike the night before though. The drink calms him down and allows him to have proper sleep this time. He spends the most of his Sunday in bed, thinking about you, then attempting to remove you from his mind. 

Not wanting to deal with any more tension, he instructs Mr. Ri that Monday to just drive you straight to the office. Jungkook arrives and sees you stand up to greet him as he walks through the hallway, and he responds with a nod as his own greeting before heading straight to his room.

There’s that feeling again - of missing you, of hoping he could fix things but not knowing how, of wanting to ask you to stay but knowing he has to let you go, and of wishing that when he does, you’ll find your way back to him again. He shakes off the thoughts during that short walk to his desk, feeling himself weaken with every moment that he spends far away from you.

Jungkook takes his seat and sighs as another day starts without his usual routine. Knowing he has no other choice, he pushes on. From his periphery, he sees you glancing at him through the window, and a part of him wishes it’s your attempt at seeing if you could speak with him, maybe ask if you could talk about what happened later on or about what he now knows about you. Or anything, really. He just wants to hear your voice again. Hopefully see your smile. Despite all his doubts about you, the emptiness he feels tells him that nothing’s changed - what he feels for you is real, and he might not know what’ll happen next, but he at least knows that what he wants is to be with you; he hopes he’ll figure out how to do that with you.

He sees you glance at him again and it sparks a bit of hope. That is, until he spots the envelope on his desk, and inside it, your resignation letter.

He tries to act unaffected as he reads what you’ve written. It’s straight to the point, as you narrate your journey in the company, having started as an intern and then working in logistics before finding your footing as the Vice President’s assistant. You list the skills you’ve developed and other things you’ve learned but that you think it’s time to venture into something new and different, noting how you’ll take all your experiences with you in this new stage of your life. 

You thank him for his guidance, and he almost breaks towards the end when you mention the Arts Center. You apologize for leaving before its completion, but you’re thankful because it allowed you to appreciate the beauty of things, that it made you understand the value of meaning and connection, and that his passion for it pushed you to find something that you want to be passionate about, too. You’ve given him something, and now he knows that in his own way, he’s given something to you, too. 

You type away on your desktop while not-so-discreetly peeking into Jungkook’s office to see his reaction to your letter. Your plan was to resign after the Arts Center was launched, knowing how big of a project it is that needs all of Jungkook’s attention. He can’t be distracted, and a part of you scolds yourself for being selfish about deciding to do this now. 

But you also knew that you couldn’t delay it any longer. After what happened last Friday, you didn’t know how you could face him again, especially now that he knows everything. It didn’t feel right to continue on, not just because of your feelings but because you crossed a line - you kissed and did all that in his office. That itself is unacceptable; it almost feels like a betrayal to his family, whom you’ll have to painfully say goodbye to as well. 

Mr. Ri visited you yesterday to give you comfort, knowing that you’d choose to go through this on your own again. Jungkook was devastated but was worried about you more than anything, you were told, and somehow that made the decision less difficult but still painful to make. You don’t know if he’ll ever truly understand, especially if finding yourself means letting him go despite the happiness he gives you. 

It’s not everyday you find someone you feel so much for, but then again, human beings are complicated - they can want something and be scared of it at the same time; they can have the chance to have it but doubt it all the same. What you feel for him should be enough to dispel your worries about his sincerity but there’s too much going on in your mind at this point. Right now, you just want to get away. With him learning the truth, you suppose he needs time to process all that as well. 

You’ll miss him though. You’ll miss everything about this place. But you’ll miss him the most. 

Your phone ringing disrupts your thoughts, and your heart races when you hear Jungkook’s voice on the other end.

“Ms. Cho, please come to my office.”

You calm your nerves and find the strength to get off your seat and walk towards him. He’d been expressionless the whole time, and you wonder if he’ll hold off your resignation because it’s terrible timing. Either way, you try to prepare yourself for what’s to come. 

But clearly, you didn’t do so enough, as you’re still left speechless when he holds out an envelope for you to take, the sight of his hands that once held you close breaking your heart again.

“I accept your resignation,” he says, his voice low and firm, his eyes not fully meeting yours. “You have a month until your last day but you have two weeks worth of vacation and I urge you to take them before you leave.”

“Thank you, sir,” you manage to say, your voice soft and shaking compared to his. “I… I will.”

“And this is your recommendation letter,” he says, handing you another envelope. “You’ve shown exceptional skills throughout your tenure here, Ms. Cho. Everyone you’ve worked with says so, and I’ve seen that firsthand. I’m sure that wherever you decide to work after this, you’ll be another great asset. And my family wishes you good luck in your future endeavors. Thank you for all that you’ve done for us.”

The words are too formal, too professional for your liking, and this breaks your heart even more. But you suppose there’s no other way to do it. You’re the one leaving; you’re the one who pulled away. After everything that’s happened, you’re the one who walked out to find your happiness when Jungkook needed you the most, and you could only hope that one day, he’ll forgive you for it. That he’ll forgive you for all of it.

“Thank you, Mr. Jeon,” you bow in thanks. “I’ve said it all in my letter but once again, I appreciate everything you’ve taught me.”

You bravely look him in the eyes as he seems to have found the courage to look at you, and the longer you do, the harder it all becomes. 

“Shall I commence the process of finding my replacement, sir?” You ask.

“There is no need,” he replies. “I’ve received approval from my father to have Lucas come in as my assistant effective immediately. He’s scheduled to arrive this week, so you can spend the remaining time you have here turning over everything to him. I will announce your resignation to the team before then. You can also begin the offboarding process with HR so that there are no delays.”

“Understood, Mr. Jeon,” you say, the light in your eyes dimming as each second passes by.

“Is there anything else I could do to help you, Ms. Cho?” 

There’s a prolonged moment where you and Jungkook just look at each other, his eyes tinged with a kind of sadness that you perhaps mirror, with words swimming in your own heads that neither of you wants to say out loud.

You wish he’d say that he’s okay, that he forgives you, and that he hopes it didn’t have to be this way. 

He wishes you’d say that you’re sorry for leaving him, that you’ll be thinking about him, and that you hope you’ll find your way back to him again.

You want to tell him that he’s all you could think about, that you’ll miss him everyday, that you’ll search for  beautiful things that are tangible like you said you would, and hope they would lead you back to him. 

He wants to say that he’ll look for you everywhere, that he’ll hold onto every good memory you have together, that he hopes you find whatever makes you happy, and that he’ll wait for you until you realize that it could be him.

But the moment passes and then it’s gone. You bow once more and head out the door.

You take your seat and will yourself not to cry. You can’t help it though, even as you press your palms against your ears to drown out the sounds of your own sadness, of your heart’s call of his name even if you’re the one walking away. 

You let the tears fall, a reminder that you’d done this, and that for the first time in your life, you’re crying over losing someone, even if he was someone you didn’t have in the first place. 

Maybe you weren’t meant to have him at all. 

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[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

Predator and Prey

Yandere Various Beastmen/ women x Human Afab Reader

You live in a world ruled by beast men where you are the lowest on the food chain. Sadly for you, you’re often treated like a play thing by your coworkers…

Tw: Breeding, lesbian sex, smut, mounting, predator/ prey dynamics, Yandere behavior, etc

Leveret- Holland Lop

Leveret was your sweet childhood friend and loyal companion! He was incredibly shy to the point you’d always have to stand up for him. He has always looked up to you ever since you were kids… you were his hero!

Leveret is your standard pretty boy. Hyper feminine and lean, he often wears pastels. His fawn colored hair is usually a bit long and very fluffy, just like his floppy ears! Leveret is very cute but equally pathetic. He never stands up for you, but you’re never upset with him since he is a rabbit. What could prey do to a predator other than run away? It made his heart soar that you were never upset with him… Leveret wouldn’t be able to live with himself if you hated him!

Leveret went to work in the office with you so the two of you are together forever (just like you promised as kids). He doesn’t want to lose sight of his shining star!

Leveret love when you scratch his ears. He automatically thumps his foot which makes him embarrassed so you often reassure him. Leveret loves how sweet you are to him.

Leveret secretly idolizes you and has an entire shrine dedicated to you. He’s a pathetic man. He’s too scared to confess his overwhelming feelings so he settles for collecting keepsakes from you. Nothing you’d ever miss of course, but they meant the world to him!

Chapsticks, silverware, panties, it didn’t matter! It was all kept in a box under his bed for him to romance through when he felt especially pathetic.

Leveret often huffed and humped your soiled panties like the pathetic loser he was! He’d be over the moon if you saw him like this… if you told him how pathetic he was. It was his deepest fantasy! To be dominated by you! To have his small, pathetic cock inside of you. He’s a bunny so he could go for hours! Whatever you want…

Leveret often stalks you when you’re not around him and it turns him on to see you taken advantage by the other beast men, especially Amara.

He often wishes he was a predator so he could be more dominant and confident but he’s okay being a prey instead. You’re never suspicious of him this way… so it’s much easier for you to let your guard down around him

Amara- Spotted Hyena

Amara has a dirty blonde and black spotted wolf cut and scars from one side of her cheek to the other. Her whole body is covered in scars from her constantly picking fights.

Amara is a bully. She’s the meanest coworker to you just because of your species (human).

She often slams her shoulder into yours, knocks your papers out of your hands, or spills food/ drinks on your clothes. Luckily her bullying is only physically since the entire office dislikes her. Arielle is especially not fond of Amara.

You often see the African lion and spotted hyena get into spats

Her loud cackles always fills the office which raised the concerns of your coworkers. Arielle is often the one to come to your rescue. Which only makes Amara more agitated

Yet despite her cruelty to you, you’re not mean to her since you understand why she is the way she is. She had a hard home life since she was the youngest in her pack so you knew she was trying to seek power elsewhere

It’s when Amara hears you defend her to Arielle that the bullying begins to stop. “I know it’s just Amara’s nature and if it makes her feel like the leader then she’s fine picking on me. I’m just a human anyways, it’s not like I could ever defend myself.” You understood her instincts? Amara didn’t think a human would understand her more than other beast men would… it started her interest in you.

Amara will stop being physically mean to you since you’ve shown submission to her. Now she will share her lunch with you in an, albeit, forceful way. She will scare off your bunny beast man friend so she can sit with you in the break room instead. The hyena insistent that you needed more protein or you’d be too weak.

Amara is insistent on walking you home. Her hyenas ears flip back and forth on her head to listen to any danger. Her scarred and muscular form was enough to intimidate anyone away from you. Not to mention her 5’11” frame. She was definitely a predator not to be messed with.

Amara will become suffocatingly clingy to the point your boss has to separate the two of you in fear of your safety (and a lawsuit). But that doesn’t stop her from finding you during break time (and to rip you away from Leveret)

Be prepared for the spotted hyena to corner you in the bathroom, her hands grabbing you in every place she can reach as her nose is buried in the crook of your shoulder. How could she not votive how good you smell?!

It isn’t long before she has you bend over the sink, her pseudo penis pressed against your backside as she humps you. She may not be a male, but her organ is perfectly functional for mounting. Won’t you indulge her? Amara hasn’t mounted anyone yet and you said you understood her nature. So won’t you indulge her? It’s not like you could defend yourself, you said so yourself…

Amara may be a woman but she was sure she could please you just as much as a man! The two of you could be mates!

Amara is quite rough and her psuedo penis is quite big. She’s a true dom and has a biting kink. It’s best to avoid being alone with her… unless you enjoy being mounted

Arielle- African Lion

Arielle is a respectable figure in the office. Her ginger hair is usually kept in a pixie cut. She’s a handsome woman with a scar across the right side of her lip. She’s usually the best dressed in the office. She often has to shave her face and arms since she’s a trans woman. Arielle hates her mane that constantly tries to grow back and the excessive body hair (but she’d be over the moon if you tell her you like her hairy arms, she’ll keep them then),

Arielle was the first in the office to take you under her wing and to protect you from the others. She isn’t very fond of the way the others treat you. You’re a rare human! You should be respected…

Arielle often carries extra set of clothes on her so you have something to change into when Amara decides to make you wear a meal or beverage. As much as Arielle hates Amara, it satiates a part of her that adores you in her clothes. Something about it is sexy to her. Especially from how much smaller you are than her.

If you seek her out for help or guidance, you’re instantly in her good graces. You feel safe around her? She’ll keep you safe. You like her clothes? She’ll bring you more. You like her hairy arms? She won’t shave them anymore. You think she’s a beautiful woman? She’ll show you how beautiful she finds you.

Arielle is the most passionate amongst the beast men. She loves to trail kisses across your neck and chest. Her clawed hands are always gentle so she doesn’t hurt you. She’s so happy you don’t mind her genitalia. It makes her cry and purr to be accepted.

Arielle is a little sucker for praise of any kind. She’s quite a lax lover but don’t let that fool you. Arielle is quite protective of you and is willing to shed blood for you if she has to.

Arielle doesn’t mind sharing you with Eden but she’s not fond of the other workers. She especially dislikes Amara and Leveret.

She scents you more than the other beast men. You often find lion hair all over your clothes after a night with her…

Conan- Eastern Wolf

Conan hates humans so he avoids you like the plague. If you try to talk to the gray haired man, he will leave the premises.

Conan is a very attractive man with long gray hair and icy blue eyes. He’s usually quite stoic and quiet so no one ever knows what he’s feeling if they look at his face… his tail tells a different story.

Conan will eventually open up to you when he sees how hard you try to understand the beast men’s behaviors. You’re not a bad human like the others he met and it was rude of him to make such an assumption.

Conan will apologize to you but he still keeps you at arms length, until he notices a certain rabbit being odd. Hell, everyone was odd to you. And Conan didn’t like it.

Conan will offer you solace if the others start to be too much. He’s a bit higher up in the office so you can hide in his office to get away from the stage five clingers but it won’t be long until they find you.

Conan is great at giving advice and he is a great listener. He just never expected to grow fond of you as well… you were too nice for your own good.

Conan refers to you as little red riding hood. “Little red, don’t you think you should avoid someone like me?” And you’d always smile at him. “I think you’re nice though, Conan. You have such kind eyes… I’m happy you became my friend.”

Curse you. Curse you and your kindness. Your gentle scratched behind his ears and your soft words that made his tail wag. Conan began to crave you more and more until all he wanted to do was to breed you like a proper mate should.

Conan will try to stay away from you when he’s in heat by locking himself up in his office. If you choose to ignore the “do not disturb” note on his door because the others are scaring you, he cannot guarantee he won’t pounce on you.

Conan would apologize the entire time as he stuffs you with his knot. But this was your fault. You should know not to get too close to a predator. Didn’t your family ever warn you about the big bad wolf, little red?

Eden- Grizzly Bear

This giant woman was in love with you at first sight. You’re so small compared to her and that meant you needed to be protected!

Eden is the tallest amongst the other people in the office. She’s built like a powerlifter with strong arms and a strong back but has a tummy on her. Her hair is in a chocolate brown mullet and she’s covered in tattoos. She is also openly lesbian.

Outside of work, Eden wears flannels and resides in a cabin in the woods. She enjoys hikes and wood cutting. You jokingly call her a lumberjack.

She loves to talk. Eden is the office chatter box with a gregarious personality. She’s quite boisterous but she’s not a bad person. Eden is thrilled that you don’t mind her incessant chatter, you’re one of the few people…

This giant woman often greets you with a toothy grin and shoves Amara away from you. She’s one of the few people in the office that likes humans. 

Eden will share all her snacks with you from the get go and she will be so happy if you share yours! Sharing is caring after all!

Eden loves honey straws that are supposed to be used for tea. She sucks on them like suckers any chance she gets. You often stress concern for her and her love of sweets but not to worry! She’s a grizzly bear! She will be perfectly okay!

She may seem like an idiot but she’s far from it. She notices the way Amara changes her beat around you in a second. And she doesn’t like it. If you build a strong bond with Eden, Eden will go to the bathroom with you and she will pull Amara off you. A bear is not to be messed with, especially not a grizzly.

Now you have this tank of a woman following you around work. Eden offering you snacks and protection in exchange for you talking with her. She’s a lax Yandere save for her over protectiveness.

Eden will take you on hikes and foraging in the woods. She will even teach you which berries and mushrooms are edible! Whatever you want, she will be happy to oblige.

Eden is perfectly okay with just being friends too. She doesn’t mind! Eden just likes being around you. But if you want more with her or if you want a third, she’s open.

Eden is a very giving lover. You will be her cute little princess pillow almost every time. She’d rather do all the work so the two of you can cuddle and watch movies but won’t reject you if you want to go down on her. She gets especially riled up if you offer to suck her strap. How naughty

Eden wouldn’t mind sharing with her best friend, Arielle. She finds it kind of hot to have you crying and moaning under her and the lioness. She’s kind of jealous that Arielle would be able to get you pregnant while she can’t, but she’s still happy to stuff your cute pussy with her strap or her fingers. You’re so fucking cute. Won’t you stay with her forever?

The two (or three) of you could live a pretty efficient life in the woods. So why don’t you just stay here where she can properly protect you?

[thaoworra]

The Science Fiction and Fantasy Poetry Association recently released the poems that made it to the finalist stage for consideration for the 2024 Rhysling Awards for Short and Long Speculative Poems of the year. Congratulations to all of the nominees! This will be the 46th year these awards have been conferred!

Short Poems (50 finalists)

Attn: Prime Real Estate Opportunity!, Emily Ruth Verona, Under Her Eye: A Women in Horror Poetry Collection Volume II

The Beauty of Monsters, Angela Liu, Small Wonders 1

The Blight of Kezia, Patricia Gomes, HWA Poetry Showcase X

The Day We All Died, A Little, Lisa Timpf, Radon 5

Deadweight, Jack Cooper, Propel 7

Dear Mars, Susan L. Lin, The Sprawl Mag 1.2

Dispatches from the Dragon's Den, Mary Soon Lee, Star*Line 46.2

Dr. Jekyll, West Ambrose, Thin Veil Press December

First Eclipse: Chang-O and the Jade Hare, Emily Jiang, Uncanny 53

Five of Cups Considers Forgiveness, Ali Trotta, The Deadlands 31

Gods of the Garden, Steven Withrow, Spectral Realms 19

The Goth Girls' Gun Gang, Marisca Pichette, The Dread Machine 3.2

Guiding Star, Tim Jones, Remains to be Told: Dark Tales of Aotearoa, ed. Lee Murray (Clan Destine Press)

Hallucinations Gifted to Me by Heatstroke, Morgan L. Ventura, Banshee 15

hemiplegic migraine as willing human sacrifice, Ennis Rook Bashe, Eternal Haunted Summer Winter Solstice

Hi! I am your Cortical Update!, Mahaila Smith, Star*Line 46.3

How to Make the Animal Perfect?, Linda D. Addison, Weird Tales 100

I Dreamt They Cast a Trans Girl to Give Birth to the Demon, Jennessa Hester, HAD October

Invasive, Marcie Lynn Tentchoff, Polar Starlight 9

kan-da-ka, Nadaa Hussein, Apparition Lit 23

Language as a Form of Breath, Angel Leal, Apparition Lit October

The Lantern of September, Scott Couturier, Spectral Realms 19

Let Us Dream, Myna Chang, Small Wonders 3

The Magician's Foundling, Angel Leal, Heartlines Spec 2

The Man with the Stone Flute, Joshua St. Claire, Abyss & Apex 87

Mass-Market Affair, Casey Aimer, Star*Line 46.4

Mom's Surprise, Francis W. Alexander, Tales from the Moonlit Path June

A Murder of Crows, Alicia Hilton, Ice Queen 11

No One Now Remembers, Geoffrey Landis, Fantasy and Science Fiction Nov./Dec.

orion conquers the sky, Maria Zoccula, On Spec 33.2

Pines in the Wind, Karen Greenbaum-Maya, The Beautiful Leaves (Bamboo Dart Press)

The Poet Responds to an Invitation from the AI on the Moon, T.D. Walker, Radon Journal 5

A Prayer for the Surviving, Marisca Pichette, Haven Speculative 9

Pre-Nuptial, F. J. Bergmann, The Vampiricon (Mind's Eye Publications)

The Problem of Pain, Anna Cates, Eye on the Telescope 49

The Return of the Sauceress, F. J. Bergmann, The Flying Saucer Poetry Review February

Sea Change, David C. Kopaska-Merkel and Ann K. Schwader, Scifaikuest May

Seed of Power, Linda D. Addison, The Book of Witches ed. Jonathan Strahan (Harper Collins)

Sleeping Beauties, Carina Bissett, HWA Poetry Showcase X

Solar Punks, J. D. Harlock, The Dread Machine 3.1

Song of the Last Hour, Samuel A. Betiku, The Deadlands 22

Sphinx, Mary Soon Lee, Asimov's September/October

Storm Watchers (a drabbun), Terrie Leigh Relf, Space & Time

Sunflower Astronaut, Charlie Espinosa, Strange Horizons July

Three Hearts as One, G. O. Clark, Asimov's May/June

Troy, Carolyn Clink, Polar Starlight 12

Twenty-Fifth Wedding Anniversary, John Grey, Medusa's Kitchen September

Under World, Jacqueline West, Carmina Magazine September

Walking in the Starry World, John Philip Johnson, Orion's Belt May

Whispers in Ink, Angela Yuriko Smith, Whispers from Beyond (Crystal Lake Publishing)

Long Poems (25 finalists)

Archivist of a Lost World, Gerri Leen, Eccentric Orbits 4

As the witch burns, Marisca Pichette, Fantasy 87

Brigid the Poet, Adele Gardner, Eternal Haunted Summer Summer Solstice

Coding a Demi-griot (An Olivian Measure), Armoni “Monihymn” Boone, Fiyah 26

Cradling Fish, Laura Ma, Strange Horizons May

Dream Visions, Melissa Ridley Elmes, Eccentric Orbits 4

Eight Dwarfs on Planet X, Avra Margariti, Radon Journal 3

The Giants of Kandahar, Anna Cates, Abyss & Apex 88

How to Haunt a Northern Lake, Lora Gray, Uncanny 55

Impostor Syndrome, Robert Borski, Dreams and Nightmares 124

The Incessant Rain, Rhiannon Owens, Evermore 3

Interrogation About A Monster During Sleep Paralysis, Angela Liu, Strange Horizons November

Little Brown Changeling, Lauren Scharhag, Aphelion 283

A Mere Million Miles from Earth, John C. Mannone, Altered Reality April

Pilot, Akua Lezli Hope, Black Joy Unbound eds. Stephanie Andrea Allen & Lauren Cherelle (BLF Press)

Protocol, Jamie Simpher, Small Wonders 5

Sleep Dragon, Herb Kauderer, The Book of Sleep (Written Image Press)

Slow Dreaming, Herb Kauderer, The Book of Sleep (Written Image Press)

St. Sebastian Goes To Confession, West Ambrose, Mouthfeel 1

Value Measure, Joseph Halden and Rhonda Parrish, Dreams and Nightmares 125

A Weather of My Own Making, Nnadi Samuel, Silver Blade 56

Welcoming the New Girl, Beth Cato, Penumbric October

What You Find at the Center, Elizabeth R McClellan, Haven Spec Magazine 12

The Witch Makes Her To-Do List, Theodora Goss, Uncanny 50

The Year It Changed, David C. Kopaska-Merkel, Star*Line 46.4

Voting for the Rhysling Award begins July 1; a link to the ballot will be sent with the Rhysling Anthology, as well as with the July issue of Star*Line. More information on the Rhysling Award can be found here.

[apas-95]

So, Quiet MGSV is, pretty obviously, a character designed in part as sexual fantasy. Now, because the zeitgeist is toying with 'let heterosexual men express their attraction to women! #sexpositivity', I should state for the record that Quiet exists in a context of a pervasive trend for female characters in art, video games especially, to be sexualised and made the object of sexualisation, rather than as conscious subjects with interiority, explicitly due to the millenia-long oppression of women as a (if not the) social class, which has powered a litany of social systems with the exploitation of women's labour, women's bodies, and women's lives, maintained through strict restraint from power of women, and their genuine ownership at the hands of men, which still persists both directly and indirectly to this day. That said, my main problem with Quiet's design is that Kojima's horniness is so vulgar and unsophisticated as to somehow assume that 'extremely competent, mute female soldier who can field-strip someone's gun out of their hands and down fighter jets if she has a good shot with her sniper rifle' wouldn't be a million times hotter if, rather than Having To Be Naked. Because She Breathes From Her Skin, she had to covwr wrey single part of her body and wear a cool helmet,adn a-and

[writers-potion]

𝕾𝖔, 𝕷𝖊𝖙'𝖘 𝖂𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝕱𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌.

Here are some ideas to let your fight scene sizzle with romantic tension even while daggers are flying about.

Hand-to-Hand Fighting

Make it an unarmed 1:1 combat where physical approxiamation is a must, and where the two are totally aware of the other's body. Use this to encompass erotic awareness.

Use fighting styles that require close touch, like grappling, rolling around on the fllor in a tight clinch.

You you're writing erotica, you can add a touch of BDSM by using the power play.

Daggers

The dagger is a weapon that is often personal and intimate, as it requires the attacker to be close to the target. When the dagger penetrates the flesh, the hand almost touches the victim.

This is very different from weapons like the gun, arrow or spear which can kill at a distance.

In addition, the motion of sliding the dagger into or out of the sheath can be highly suggestive. It gives you room to play with your words or insert suggestive dialogue

Male Fantasies of Female Fighters

Men can be turned on by watching females fight. If your heroine is a martial artist and the hero has a taste for warrior women, erotic tension immediately ensues.

Catfights that involve young, healthy women battling each other for monetary prizes exist. A nastier version of these clubs will involve women who are forced: abducted girls, vitims of human trafficking. These are good for giving your heroine a dark past or adding a thriller element.

Another fantasy can be about men fighting the women, rather than watching them fight. If the heroine also happens to have a taste for violence, they can batter one another happily ever after. More often, the man will pay the woman to fight him.

This happens at an agency or a 'wrestling studio' which employs part-time feamle wrestlers. The client will pay per hour and pick the girl. Nothing sexual goes on, except in the man's minds and his boxers - they will fight fully clothed with a staff member overseeing as referee (chaperone, essentially).

Many of these men who pay to fight will want to lose - being submitted by a woman is a part of their fantasies. They can be gentlemanly, courteous and considerate men at work - which can serve as good hero material.

Female Fantasies of Male Fighters

Women can have similar fantasies where they take pleasure in seeing men take each other on. If the men wear sleeveless vests or fight shirtless, this gives you the opportunity to describe their muscles, sweat and other details.

If your heroine has BDSM tendencies, you can depict her imagining what it would be like to be submitted by the men she watches, although her desire wouldn't really be to fight the man.

On the other hand, the woman's experience watching somene she cares about (a brother, lover, husband) fight will be more emotional than physical.

Post-Fight Horniness

Genuine fights aren't horny, but fighters may get horny afterward when the hormones and intense tension wear off.

So this gives your the excuse to show your professional assasin hunting for a hot date after work. Or let your hero feel unexpected attraction to his comrade after they've pushed through a particularly difficult battle.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[samcarter34]

Since people seem to once again be having trouble remembering the order of operations, let me just remind everyone:

The ability Laudna possesses to feed Delilah is Hunger of the Shadow. In the fight with Bor’dor, Laudna used that BEFORE Orym’s head nod. Bor’dor attacked them and her response was to do the thing she knew would give power to Delilah. Matt even makes the sound of Delilah’s heartbeat.

The spell she used after the head nod? Whither and Bloom. The same spell she later attacked Orym with, which isn’t even a warlock spell.

And speaking of the head nod, you want to know what’s it’s prefaced with? ‘Laudna you can do whatever you want.’ And Marisha responds by saying that Laudna is ‘barely present’ because she’s having ptsd flashbacks to all of the times something horrible happened to her and she couldn’t do anything about it. So she kills Bor’dor because it makes her feel in control of the situation.

And yeah, the 4SD where Liam says Orym thought Delilah might come back. Except y’all somehow took that and made it seem like he’s the one who shoved Laudna over the edge when what actually happened is that Laudna flung herself off it because betrayal is triggering to her.

And the sword. The sword which apparently wasn’t triggering enough that Imogen contemplating whether the Vanguard were good guys didn’t cause any reaction. Or for that matter, make her object to Ashton’s ‘this is permission statement.’ But she saw Orym wearing it, got uncomfortable and then all it took was one sentence from Delilah for her to decide to steal it. Delilah, who mutilated her, murdered her, has been possessing her for decades, and who basically held her soul hostage when BH wanted VM to resurrect Laudna. But what Delilah didn’t do? Tell Laudna to steal the sword.

I wasn’t around for campaign 1, but in campaign 2 I definitely noticed a trend that people who were all ‘I love women! Female characters rock!’ would, the second one of their alleged faves did something controversial (or just something they didn’t like) would find a way to shift the onus onto someone else so she could remain blameless. And that is definitely continuing this campaign, and if anything is getting worse (which, not to get into speculation, but I wonder if it’s because all of the female characters this go round are more traditionally feminine than last campaign.)

I think the reason Orym’s been getting raked across the coals so hard by certain parts of the fandom is actually because of this. Because Imogen’s repeatedly gone ‘what if the Vanguard have a point’ and Laudna agrees with everything she says, whereas Orym’s been pretty consistently ‘no, the murder cult that murdered my family are bad guys.’ And well, can’t go around admitting that our faves did something wrong.’

And so we have a situation where Laudna attacks Orym, but somehow that’s Orym’s fault because the possibility of Laudna doing something wrong ruins people’s lesbian cottegecore fantasy. But the thing is, that whole thing was all Laudna. She chose to listen to her first murderer when Delilah said ‘maybe it’s cursed’ and then she chose to blanket the room in magical darkness (sorcerer ability, not warlock) chose to cast an area of effect spell to destroy the thing Orym was using to sheath the sword (sorcerer spell, not warlock) and, upon hurting Orym, chose not to drop said darkness, which meant Orym couldn’t see who attacked him. And when she got caught, she tried to downplay what she did, tried to say that because she didn’t mean to hurt him it didn’t count, refused to apologize for actually hurting him, kept shifting her argument (and even low key got called out on it by Imogen when she asked Laudna why she’s want its power inside her if she thinks it’s so evil.)

There is an alternate universe where Laudna wakes Orym up and they have what probably would have been an intense discussion about the sword (and that might even have been what Marisha was aiming for before Delilah got involved) and THAT truly would have been the ‘both sides are equally right’ scenario, but that’s not what we got. And you can say Orym shouldn’t have taken the sword unilaterally (but somehow Laudna’s allowed to unilaterally steal and absorb it?) or that she’s being manipulated by Delilah, but the fact is that Laudna’s an adult and is responsible for her own decisions. Yes, Delilah is a powerful and malign presence that they all downplayed/ignored, but, to use Marisha’s addiction metaphor, making amends with those you’ve harmed is a part of recovery for a reason. Because ultimately, you are the one who did that. Yes, it does immensely suck for Laudna that she’s been handed the cards she has been, but it’s up to her to make the best play she can.

Wow this got long, but my overall point is that Laudna is a character with her own agency and makes her own decisions (well, Marisha makes them, but at this point y’all should know she’s not conflict averse and is willing to have her characters make controversial character choices). And really, take all that away, what’s left? How much onus can you take from a character before you might as well go look at a painting?

[thelesbianpoirot]

The thing about BDSM/stripping/pornography/prostitution that I critique is not about what the sub/victim/penetrated wants. I don't care to shame the person with the abuse and rape fantasy. People from oppressed groups who hate themselves will seek out means of self destruction and humiliation. They are taught to. It is what society trained them to do. It is not surprising that many young women (and young gay men) run towards violent sex, plastic surgery, extreme piercing, extreme tattooing, prostitution and exploitation. What other group is taught to hate themselves more? What other group is more death seeking? I am not shocked the groups with the highest rates suicide attempts, eating disorder, lowest record self esteem, poor body image, mocked the most in media, have high murder and sexual assault rates hate themselves and seek lifestyles that reflect or perpetuate their own destruction. "Choke me daddy," the 14yr old writes on her social media page, and gets likes of people thinking she cool, hot and progressive. She knows there are people who want to do horrible things to her, and if she lets them, and "enjoys" it, that is the closest she will get to love, attention, and praise. She reads and masturbates to rape fantasies in fanfiction/dark romance books because she is aware of the place society wants her in and was a victim of their concerted efforts to normalize and even eroticize her submission and degradation. She is not a product of free choice and individualism. She is a good student of society's bigotry and hatred. Proof of free choice would be her having the highest standards, self preservation and dignity. That is what would make her stand out amongst her peers. That is what would buck tradition. I have grown up around poor black people my entirely life, and watched many people destroy their lives with drugs, gangs, getting pregnant by multiple men, and many other social ills. Many of these things were avoidable, I avoided them, a few of my friends did, I wondered why they hadn't. And it's after I grew up that I realize many of those people didn't think they were capable of doing anything else, or were deserving of any other kind of life. When the world hates you, makes a systematic effort to destroy you every day, you listen and begin destroying yourself too. In a way to pretend you have total control over your life at all times.

I will not argue with a sub/pornstar/stripper/prostitute that she should be ashamed of herself. She already is. She wouldn't be doing this if she were raised to care for and respect herself by a loving just society. I will argue that her abusive dom, the sex buyer, rapist, and director (person in power exploiting them) needs to be tried for crimes and put down like an animal.

[sepherinaspoppies]

Only If For A Night (i/?)

pairing: Dark! Book Aemond Targaryen x Modern! Reader

summary: In Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead), she gets forcefully transported to Westeros and meets her favorite book character, Aemond 'One Eye'. She asks and begs for his help to send her back home after realizing this was a world she did not want to live in. Unknowingly to her, her favorite fictional man had already grown too attached to fully let her go.

warnings for this part: profanity, tea drugging, blood magic, sexism, I think that's it... more dark stuff later. READER IS LATINA !

wc: 4,027

series masterlist

my masterlist

pt2

notes: originally I was gonna have this fic be a one shot but it is sooo long that I decided to split it into three. this is an introduction part, aemond will be on the next (I'm half way done with that part).

Chapter 1: Only If For A Night

She knows she is screwed when Doña Maribel broke the news to her that the last of the cempasuchiles were completely sold out in her shop. Making it five flower shops in the span of an hour that she walked to have fully run out of the bright orange flowers she needed for her ancestral altar that she and her abuela worked tirelessly on for the past few days. (marigolds, grandmother)

She wonders what to do next or perhaps where to go as she plays with the gravel beneath her shoes. Sure, she could walk another mile or so to another flower shop and try her luck there just as Doña Maribel suggested but she finds herself too tired to venture deeper in her small pueblo by herself. (town)

Even the walk back to her abuela’s was not something she looked forward to as of now. This was the time where she wished she had the ability to drive but alas she could not for even the streets of Mexico were more hectic and nerve wracking than back at the states. (grandmother’s)

She sighs in defeat. The cempasuchiles were the last thing on her abuela’s list of things she required for tonight’s first day of Dia de Los Muertos. The bright orange flowers illuminated the path of those who died, back into the land of the living and enjoy the offerings their family’s set up for them. (Day of the Dead)

Maybe for just tonight she could spare them.  

She sets her three mercado bags beside her as she sits down on a bench right next to a bus stop that could lead her directly to her abuela’s home. The smell of citrus of the lemon tree above her eases her disappointment and feels that this is the perfect spot to reread one of her favorite books. (shopping)

George R. R. Martin’s, Fire and Blood Vol. 1. She wondered what it was like to reside in a world of dragons (before they were all extinct), dire wolves from the North, red priestesses from Volantis, and mysterious yet powerful witches. To live inside the walls of the Red Keep and tour around the secret passageways and to fight for the rightful Queen of Westeros, Rhaenyra and the other members of the Blacks during the Dance of Dragons.  

Sadly, even if it was possible to venture deep into alternate fantasy universes. It all was pure fiction. Not real. Impossible. 

‘And so one-eyed Aemond the Kinslayer took up the iron-and-ruby crown of Aegon the Conqueror, “It looks better on me than it ever did on him,” the prince proclaimed.’

“Excuse me, do you happen to know when the bus is due to arrive?” She snaps her head up meeting the most beautiful and enchanting woman she’d ever seen. Eyes round and greener than the trees itself during spring. Hair long and black like ravens in the night sky. She was tall, taller than most of the women here with skin like porcelain that had not seen a day of sun, a rarity here in Mexico. 

It was her mischievous tight lipped smile that made her feel loss of words. Unknowingly, this mysterious woman was the first person who spoke to her in English, not Spanish.

“Umm… I- I’m sorry?” 

The green eyed woman smirked as if she knew the small effect she had on her. Gods she was beautiful. 

“The bus–” 

She shook her head out of her revere, coming to reality. “Oh, I’m not sure. Perhaps a few more minutes.” She informed, pulling her mercado bags closer to her side, allowing the green eyed woman to sit, not wanting to be rude. 

She murmurs a quick thank you as she sits exceedingly close to her, shoulder to shoulder, flesh to flesh with her. Jeez, talk about personal space! However, the woman doesn’t seem to care or acknowledge that she has enough space for her own person. A feeling of uncertainty rests below her gut, telling her to be vigilant around her presence.    

“How long have you waited?” She asks, breaking away the long silence between them. She almost shivers at the intensity hue of her eyes that bore right through her. 

“About ten to twelve minutes.” She replies, looking anywhere else but her. 

A satisfactory look sketched around the woman's youthful yet elderly face which she found odd. What could be so pleasing about the bus not arriving? The woman said nothing, only sitting rather straight, almost elegant in her simple long green dress. Though, in the back of her mind, she wondered if she felt hot underneath the heaviness of the velvet fabric. She sure as hell did.

“Wait, how did you know I spoke english?” She asked as the hairs on her arms stood up straight in some kind of chilling fear. 

The woman’s eyes lowered and centered on the object sitting up on her lap. “Your book gives it away.” She snickered softly, tilting her head reading the bold letters of her very worn book she got at the thrift store for just two dollars. “An interesting read.” The green eyed woman said whilst her face held no sincere fondness of it for someone who found it interesting. 

“You’ve read this before?” She asked curiously, little taken back, that she finally found someone else who read Fire and Blood Vol 1. Or anything by George R. R. Martin. 

“Yes, almost like I've lived through it” 

She opens her mouth to speak but the green eyed woman beats her to it. “I don’t mean to pry but where are you headed?” The smile falls off her face as she remembers the warning of stranger danger she learned as a kid. 

The woman must have noticed the dubious look upon her face as she threw her head back in a laugh. “I ask because it seems a storm is coming our way. And it looks like an angry one.” 

Sure enough, as she looked up the sky had turned into a deep gray with heavy clouds ready to pour any minute. Well this wasn’t forecasted in the noticias this morning, otherwise, she’d carry an umbrella. Or better yet, she wouldn’t have walked all this way if a storm was brewing. (news) 

“My cottage is not very far from here,” the green eyed woman revealed, standing up from the bench, overlooking the seriousness of the clouds. “It is just around the corner. Would you like to come?” 

She wanted to say no, that she was better off walking an hour back to her abuela’s house, even if it meant that she’d catch a cold in the pouring rain with blisters all over her feet. Besides, she did not know anything about this woman. Every bit of her mind screamed stranger danger! Don’t go!

But as she glanced between the heavy clouds and the green eyed woman with her hand extended out, all that doubt and worriment went away. 

“I don’t even know your name,” she pointed out. If all goes bad, at least she had a name to tell the authorities.

“My name is Alyssandra Riveras.” The green eyed woman smiled, bowing at the waist. 

Though still somewhat skeptical, she walks alongside Alyssandra to her cottage. She makes small mental notes in her head, counting the red stop signs, right and left turns and any other landmarks of important significance. 

She was almost positive she could point her way back home. It did not help that five minutes into their journey, it started harshly pouring out of nowhere like a bucket of water had been poured all over, blanketing her vision. 

Alyssandra’s cottage had sat on the outskirts of the pueblo, isolated from all civilization, hidden around tall and green pine trees. A faint voice in the back of her head screamed to run and never look back. She ignored it.

From a close distance, she was able to distinguish a small window with overgrown vines and branches wrapped around the perimeter of the cottage. Bones, bells, and crystal windchimes hung from the roof and windows, mostly likely put up for some kind of spiritual protection. 

She was no stranger to the craft. Although raised catholic, both her mama and abuela had hung an old broom above their doorway to keep away unwanted guests and negative energies as well as pinning the mal de ojo sigil around the walls for the look of evil and envy against their family. (evil eye)

“Cempasuchiles,” she murmured in awe when Alyssandra’s small garden came into view. It was the most of the orange flowers she had ever seen, all bright and lively and huddled together. 

“When the storm is over, you can grab as many as you’d like,” Alyssandra offered, peering over her shoulder, unlocking the door to her cottage. She nods following her inside whilst giving a grateful smile. 

The interior of the cottage was small, meant only for one person to take residence. The same size as what a studio apartment would be back in the states.

In no way was the inside minimal, in fact it was the opposite. Almost all of the walls were covered with shelves with small trinkets adorning inside such as little statues, crystals, herbs and other supplies. 

In the center of the room lay a huge stone like table, old and antique bearing the resemblance of something medieval. And something about it, sent shivers down her spine along with the same faint voice, telling her to run. 

She ignored it, again. 

“Give me your belongings, and change into this,” Alyssandra says, tossing a strappy white chemise. She exchanges her poor-soaked mercado bags that contained pan de muerto, churros, and tamales for her ancestral ofrenda. (bread of the dead, offering)

She turns around to protect her modesty, seeing as there was no other room to change nor did Alyssandra point her to the bathroom, so she lifts the drenched garment over her head and sheds away the last clothing she had on her body, leaving her completely bare in her birthday suit. 

She couldn’t help but to feel Alyssandra’s eyes watching her very intently, examining every inch of her body as if it met her standards or so. She knows she should use her hands to cover up and give Alyssandra a piece of her mind, or better yet introduce her to a knuckle and hand sandwich for the way she was looking too closely.  

Yet her body feels frozen, unable to move under the green eyed woman’s gaze. 

“Would you like some tea to keep you warm?” Alyssandra asked, moseying to the kitchen. 

She blinks, whatever paralyzing feeling she had dispelled away. “Um, yes thank you.” Alyssandra nodded, pulling what looked to be a kettle on the stove. Meanwhile, she slipped on the white chemise in a hurry to not feel as exposed anymore. 

She takes the time to analyze the rest of Alyssandra’s cottage as she hears the droplets of rain hit the rooftop harder and the sound metal being filled with water. Various of the same purple flower plants were placed near the entrance, she notes to herself that these couldn’t possibly be lavender but another species or something within the same family. 

A small cot laid in the corner close by the hearth, with multiple open ancient books and scrolls spread on top of the bedspread. She almost wants to look through the pages and read Alyssandra’s interests but she doubts she could as she observes the handwriting is unreadable from where she stood. 

She walks forward to where the hearth is, feeling slightly warmer as something immediately catches her eye. Above the mantle, hung on the wall was a medium sized portrait of a small boy, appearing no more than three years old. He stood straight, almost regally with his hands behind his back. His face held no gentleness or warmth like a child should have. 

Gods forgive her, but the child looked cruel like the gueritos who bullied her in elementary school when she was just trying to make new friends. (white boys) 

Though, for an evil looking child, he sure was beautiful. The most striking thing about him was his set of eyes. Wide with his left eye a dark violet and his right a dark green similarly to Alyssandra’s. His hair was straight and cut short right below his ears. She looked closer at the portrait, thinking if her eyes deceived her as she noticed the peculiar color of the boy’s hair. 

Silver. 

Curiosity takes the better of her as she asks, “Is that your son?” 

Alyssandra turns, holding two mugs of steaming tea. “Yes, that’s my beautiful little boy,” She places both glasses on the stoned table before she sits adjacent to her. It doesn’t go unnoticed by her the sad look on Alyssandra’s eyes. “He looks like you,” she points out though it’s somewhat of a lie in hopes to lift up Alyssandra’s spirits.

Alyssandra throws her head back in a chortle, “For all my hard work and labor, I had hoped he looked like me but nature loves to play its cruel jokes. He is a replica of his bastard father.” The thought of her son’s father left a sour and disgusting taste in Alyssandra’s mouth. 

Alyssandra focused her attention back to her, “What about you?” She asked, sitting rather too straight. 

“Do you mean if I have kids? Gods, no.” 

Alyssandra smirked, “I take it you don’t like the idea of children. I did not either but after years of solitude, I changed my mind. I had other children before my son, but all of them died before they were due. You, however, are still young. Your mind can still change.” 

She shifted in her seat anxiously, sipping the odd taste of the herbal tea Alyssandra provided. It wasn’t like she did not like children. She respected children and found them quite cute with their little tiny hands and feet and infectious laughs. But besides the point of appearance, children were a tremendous amount of responsibility that she found herself not ready for.

Not now. Not ever. 

She could barely handle taking care of herself. Much less care and provide for a child for eighteen years or so. 

“I don’t—” 

“Oh but you will,” Alyssandra fired back without so much as blinking an eye. 

She grimaced, knowing where this conversation was heading. And it was about to be a not so pretty one. She glanced at the window by the door, the rain was still heavy if not more.

“I thank you for giving me shelter. But I really must go. I was only just supposed to be out for some groceries and my abuela is probably wondering where I am.” Polite and respectful enough just as her mama taught her.

She grabbed her belongings that were hanging by the fire and stuffed them inside her mercado bag. Her hand was on the cusp of prying the door open when Alyssandra rushed to her side, wrapping her hand around her wrist. 

“Wait. Please don’t go.” Alyssandra pleaded, “It’s just that you remind me much about myself. I didn't mean to cause offense, I’m sorry.” 

Run. Say no and run now, While you still can…

There it was again that same paralyzing feeling closing in on her feet, preventing her to move. It was strange like a shield gluing both her legs down. 

She nodded, murmuring ‘fine’ under her breath as Alyssandra slowly led her back to the woven chair with such gentleness as a porcelain doll. “I still need to call my abuela, so she can know I’m alright.” 

Alyssandra twisted her face in a wince, “I’m afraid we’re too far out for any signals to catch a telephone call.” She held back the overweening snicker to herself, it was why Alyssandra chose her cottage to be settled this far out in this very modernized realm; so no one could find her. 

Alyssandra wasn’t lying. No matter how hard she hit her Iphone against her palm or moved it around, there had not been a single signal bar glowing. She wondered if her abuela had started to grow worried and perhaps began to search for her. She hoped she didn’t and that her cousins kept her preoccupied with the rest of the decorations to notice the duration of how long she’d been out. She also wondered if they were still going to the cementerio, to clean and decorate the graves of their loved ones but with the amount of thunder and rain, she’d doubt it was still on the agenda. (cemetery)

Alyssandra prepared some more tea as the fire gradually faltered down. This one had a different taste than the previous one with tiny purple petals floating around. Alyssandra watched very intently as she sipped every last drop while she scarcely touched her own mug.

The green eyed woman began asking her multiple personal questions, mostly about where she was originally from (due to the fact that her vocabulary deemed to be more vehement in English than Spanish), her family, and if she had any siblings. She had answered them all. Letting her know that she was just visiting from the states to celebrate Dia de Los Muertos with her family she had not seen since the death of her sweet abuelo. (grandfather)

Alyssandra’s eyes glimmered even more when she explained how strangely, her very stern and overprotective mama had suddenly let her travel by herself to a country she had never been to in years since she was small. Her mama preferred her to be where she could keep a close eye on her because ‘uno nunca sabe’ especially if you’re a woman. (one never knows)

It was odd, alright. Especially when her mama gave her money that she didn’t have, and enthusiastically wished her good fortune on her travels. Yup odd…

But not to Alyssandra.

Alyssandra sat down after cleaning both mugs ready to ask the hard hitting questions she’d been warming her up to. “Have you ever been with a man?” Her eyes widened before breaking rounds of deep laughter that made the sides of her ribs ache and cramp. 

However, there wasn’t an ounce of amusement displayed on Alyssandra’s face, but rather annoyance. What was so funny? It was a simple and uncomplicated question that meant no harm. At least not to her. He couldn’t harm her any more here. Alyssandra guessed perhaps it was the side effect of the tea making her humoristic. 

“No,” She replied, wiping the humoristic tears at the corner of her eyes. “The opportunity has never presented itself?” Alyssandra asked.

All the humor that previously lingered had gone swiftly away, realizing that Alyssandra was indeed asking something so personal to her. “No,” She shook her head, feeling her face hot and red. “People don’t look at me as someone they want to be with. They’d rather be with someone exciting, adventurous, and outing. And I’m neither of those things. I’m a homebody who’s idea of fun and adventure is living through fictional books.” She answered truthfully, too truthfully. 

Alyssandra watched her face transform into a deeper shade of red. “What is it?” She questioned, taking a hold of her hand, taking in the role of someone empathetic. 

“I want my first time to be special. Like the fairytales I grew up reading about with the grand Prince sweeping the young maiden off her feet and taking her to his castle…” The way her eyes reflected small flashes of light made Alyssandra almost feel guilty for her true intentions once the repercussions of the tea ran out. 

She remembers when she too wished for a dashing knight in shining armor to take her away, far away from the shit she had been through; the pain, the suffering, and the poverty. All of it. As Alyssandra grew well into her womanhood, she realized there was no knight coming to save her. Instead, there was a selfish Prince who spared her for his desires and her many talents beyond the acts of the flesh.  

But Alyssandra needed her to go. She needed that piece that was stolen from her. She didn’t want the risk of going back and facing him again and repeating through the hell and agony he put her through. So sending her for it seemed like the better alternative. 

“I know you probably think it sounds stupid–” She stammered, her face still beet red. 

“I don’t think it sounds stupid,” Alyssandra softly smiled, giving her hand a light squeeze. Judging by the serene look upon her face, it was a good lie that she seemed to believe. 

She smiled. Finally, someone who didn’t think of the idea of waiting for the right person was silly and unrealistic. 

Her smile deterred, sensing something trickle down her nose, dropping against the skin of her hand. 

Blood. Her blood. 

Run! 

“Alyssandra?” She whispered, puzzled at the sight of more blood spilling out of her nose. Every strand of hair in her arms stood, sensing a new type of alertness course right through her. She glanced at a very blurred Alyssandra with what looked to be a smirk written on her face. 

“W-What’s happening?” She stood from the chair, but that soon turned out to be a bad idea as her knees gave out, sending her straight to the stoned cold floor. She glanced up, watching as Alyssandra sauntered in front of her, and as much as she wanted to crawl away her body was glued to the floor. 

“Look,” Alyssandra said, crouching down at her level before she took her in her arms like a newborn baby, weighing little to nothing. “We don’t have much time. When you wake up, I need you to retrieve something of mine…” 

She felt her back collide on top of the stoned table, “What was in that tea?” She questioned but Alyssandra was quick to shush her. “It doesn’t matter now. You drank it all willingly.” There was no argument there. 

Alyssandra pulled out a jar with overflowing cempasuchil petals inside and circled the petals around her. Almost like a ritualistic circle she used to watch the brujas next door do. (witches)

“You need not to be afraid. You will not be harmed as long as you do what I say. Exactly as I say.” She gulped, nodding seeing as she had no other choice. “Bruja.” She spat but Alysssandra only chuckled, “I’ve been called much worse, little dove.” (witch)

Through the corner of her eye, she saw Alyssandra holding out a small knife. “I am in need of a sapphire. It was stolen from me many years ago. It is one of a kind, which is why when you see it you’ll know it is mine.” 

She momentarily shut her eyes as the dark haired woman rapidly cut the middle of her palm spewing her blood on top of the petals. “Once you’re successful, you’ll come back here with the sapphire and gather some of my materials. The marigold petals with your blood coating them; The blood of whom you took the sapphire from and lastly you’ll lay on top of my precious table here to be transported back.” 

There was an evil smile on her lips that she desperately wanted to punch it off. “And if I don’t get the sapphire?” She questioned. 

Alyssandra combed away her unruly braided hair, “Then I won’t bring you back and you’ll be stuck there forever.” 

Fuck. 

“Stuck? Stuck where? Where am I going?” 

Alyssandra clicked her tongue, “A place where fairy tales do not exist, my little dove.” If she wanted a Prince to sweep her off her feet. Alys would gladly give her one. 

She attempted to wiggle herself out of this pendeja’s spell but whatever Alyssandra mixed in the tea it was compelling her body to still and her eyes to slowly falter shut in a peaceful sleep. (dumbass) 

“However I should warn you, this spell is only valid until tomorrow. Until Dia de Los Muertos is over and even if you do achieve in retrieving the sapphire but it is after November second, you'll be permanently trapped with him.” 

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[xlocalxpunkx]

Pinned

Logan Howlett x Mutant! Fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, PinV (wrap it before u tap it), rough, sparring, age gap (legal), creampie, dom! Logan, oral (male receiving)

Summary: While sparring with Logan, he ends up pinning you to the ground. His heightened senses reveal your truths and you beg him to take you <3

Your mutant powers challenged Wolverine’s, with super strength and regenerative healing, you could spar with him any time. There was no fear of getting hurt.

He stood across from you, chest heaving and gleaming with sweat. His shoulders, broad and strong. His chest, the same. A pair of sweats hung low on his hips. Each muscle was perfectly defined. You could lick this man in front of you from his face to his cock and wouldn’t mind a single bit. A snarl reminded you what you were supposed to be doing. Blinking away your thoughts, you used his anger against him, moving quickly out of the way of his charged attacks. He was upset with not being able to beat you.

“That all you got, old man?” You grinned. The thrill of the fight sent shivers of adrenaline through you. His gaze hardened against you. With a growl, he lunged at you. You went to dodge, but it seemed he grew smarter about your tactics. At the last minute, he jutted to the opposite side, grabbing you at the waist and throwing you hard against the sparring mat. In the blink of an eye, he was on top of you, straddling your hips. One hand grasped your wrists and pinned them above your head. The other held himself up above you. You struggled, trying to get out from underneath him.

“So much for an old man, huh, bub?” He teased. The words sent a wave of arousal through you, making you squirm harder. He pressed your wrists further down against the mat, using more of his body weight to keep you there. He laughed lowly at your struggle.

“Even with your strength, you can’t get out of my grip? Looks like you need more practice, bub.” He growled.

“C’mon Lo, let me go!” You whined. Continuing to struggle against him, he smirked and kept you there.

“What’s the magic word, Princess?” He chuckled. He had never called you that before. The hold he had on you, the dominance he expelled, his tone of voice. All of it sent tingles through you, making heat pool in your underwear beneath your suit. A whimper left your throat when you noticed Logan’s nose twitch.

“Are you… getting turned on by this?” Logan questioned. You turned your head away from him, the crimson blush spreading across your cheeks was undeniable though.

“I can smell it, admit it. You think this is hot.” Logan’s grip on your wrists tightened. You sighed, knowing his heightened sense of smell made it impossible to lie. You nodded, not making eye contact with him. The heaviness against your wrists became drastic as he used it hold up his weight. With his other hand, he grasped your chin, forcing your head to turn to him.

“Words. Now.” He commanded. You gulped. The arousal pitted inside you grew deeper. You had a soft spot for being dominated. Most men or women didn’t have the strength to fight you. Finally, having someone who can hold you down. Someone who could fulfill your fantasies about being manhandled? You couldn’t resist the opportunity that presented itself. The fact that Logan hadn’t removed himself from the situation, despite knowing your arousal was there was spurring enough.

“Yes, I think it’s hot. I think you’re hot. I think, that you could fuck me right here and I wouldn’t mind.” The words spilled out of you before you could stop to even comprehend what you were saying. A mischievous grin spread across his rugged features and he leaned down. His beard scratched the side of your face.

“Right here, huh, bub? On the ground?” He teased. You nodded. He pressed his lips to yours. Arching your back to his chest, you tried to kiss him deeper. The control he had on your wrists still made it impossible. The kiss became heated as you moaned into his mouth. Any resolve you had dropping within moments. He finally released your wrists, grabbed your hips, and rolled the two of you over. You were now straddling him, but the kiss continued. Your hands found balance on his neck and in his hair. You gripped his hair tightly, pulling his head back to kiss his neck and leave small marks. A growl left his throat as he muttered something.

“What was that, old man?” You questioned, continuing your actions.

“I called you a fucking tease, Princess.” He retorted. The sound of his claws unsheathing was apparent. The cold air hitting your now bare skin clued you in on exactly what he did. He had cut your suit open through the back. His claws went back into his knuckles. He began to peel away the skin-tight body suit. You leaned back to help him pull it off. Your sweaty skin made the suit sticky to the touch and relieving to take off.

Once the suit was off entirely, leaving you in just your bra and panties, Logan kissed you again. His warm hands drew circles into your hips, lightly massaging them. One hand circled around your back, unclamping the bra. You let it fall to the floor. One of his hands stayed in your hip, while the other groped one of your boobs. He circled your nipple with his index finger, making it hard, before leaning down and taking it between his teeth. You caressed the back of his head, biting your lip and arching your back in reaction. His arms wound around your waist, holding you closer to him. You grounded against his still-clothed, agonizingly hard cock. Your head threw back, moaning as hick brushed against your clit through your underwear.

He pushed you onto your back against the mat, towering above you. His arms caging you in. He ground his hard on into you slowly, watching his own action. He leaned back against his legs. With one swift action, your underwear was torn away from your body. He stood up and pulled off his sweats, wearing nothing underneath. Your eyes widened, his size was impeccable. Huge, just like the man in front of you. Thick, heavy, and seeding with pre-cum. A large vein ran on the underneath of his cock. You shifted to be on your knees.

“Get it wet, slut. Then, I’m taking what’s mine.” He growled. One of his gripped the base of his cock, pointing it straight and the other gripped the hair on the backside of your head. You let him lead you. Opening your mouth, you took him in. A groan escaped his throat, low and gravelly, turning you on even more. His grip on your hair tightened, forcing you to take more of him into your mouth. You gagged around him, tears brimming at your eyes. You looked up at him through your eyelashes to find him staring right back at you. He slowly pushed into your throat further. The choking sound of you around his cock made him pull out enough to give you some breathing room. You nodded, cock still in mouth and he began to fuck your throat; Fast, hard, and sure to leave a bruise at the back of it. You used his thighs to steady yourself against him. Gaging and choking before he finally pulled out, satisfied with the wetness on it.

He pushed you against the floor again, settling himself between your legs. Using his hands against the back of knees, he bent you.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy, love.” He growled, lining himself up against your entrance. He slid his cock through your folds, teasing you just enough to make you whine.

“Beg.” He commanded.

“Please, Lo, I need you..” you whimpered out. He shook his head.

“Know you can do better than that, slut. C’mon, beg for it.” His cock pressed into you slightly, just the tip. You moaned at the slight stretch. He tutted.

“Pretty please with a cherry on top, need you, please Lo. I need you so bad it hurts!” you cried. He sheathed himself inside you with one quick thrust. A loud yelp left your throat. His heavy balls pressed against your ass, completely bottoming out inside you. He sat still, letting you adjust to his sheer size.

“Ready?” He asked after a minute.

“Yes, Lo.” You replied. He slowly began to move inside you. Your walls clenched around him. You moaned in pleasure. The stretched feeling you had made you grip his forearms tightly. He began to quicken his pace, hitting the spongey spot inside you. You cried out. His hips faltered, looking at you in concern.

“Good or bad?” He asked.

“Good, do that again please.”

He laughed at your whining. His thrusts picked up again. Pounding into you, your back sticking to the mat. He adjusted his position, leaning his weight against one forearm on the ground next to your head. With his other hand , he pressed your leg up. The new angle hit even deeper. His head, now next to yours, let you hear every grunt and low moan he let out. Your pussy squeezed him, the tension in your stomach building. He hit your g-spot with each thrust. Your moaning got louder, getting closer to climaxing with every thrust.

A thumb suddenly brushed your clit. You arched your back against it. The stimulation was to much but not enough at the same time.

“More, please, Lo,” you begged, “please.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him in closer. His thrusts got harder, ruthlessly pounding into you. Your walls ached with need around him. Muscles tensing and relaxing with each thrust.

“Fuck, such a tight little cunt,” He groaned in your ear. His thumb stuck itself to your clit, circling it quickly. “C’mon, Princess, come undone around my cock.”

His words sent you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed through you. His thumb continued to circle your clit, still thrusting into you. The overstimulation made your eyes roll back. No sounds could be produced as your orgasm rolled through you. His pace quickened, chasing his own orgasm.

“Think you got a second one for me, Princess?” He drawled, “C’mon, I know you do.” His thumb still drawing circles against your clit making your hips buck. You nodded, desperately wanting to please him. Your thighs tightened around his waist, another orgasm approaching quickly. The stimulation against your both your g-spot and clit racking it up even higher. Your hips continued to buck, until he used his hands and forced your hips down against the mat. Using your hips as a stabilizer, he fucked into you. The feeling of him pinning you down, completely using you to fulfill his own needs made you tremble underneath him.

His thick cock moving in and out of you felt amazing, hitting your g-spot every time. Your eyes squeezed shut, moaning and squirming beneath him as he pounded into you. The sound of your wetness and his ball smacking against your ass sent you further into pleasure. Another orgasm ripped through you suddenly, waves of pleasure flowing through you. His hips stuttered. Your orgasm had brought on his own. You clenched down, milking his cock for everything he had. You could feel his hot, thick cum dripping between your legs as he slowly pulled out. He flopped beside you onto his back, hitting the mat heavily.

“Fucking great, Princess,” He turned his head towards you with a devilish grin. “Gotta spar like that more often.” You nodded. With a wink, he got up and grabbed his towel he used to wipe his sweat after training and brought it to you instead. He sat down on the ground in front of you, gently wiping away his cum and cleaning you up. A sweaty, tired smile appeared on your face.

“Thanks, Lo.” You whispered as you sat up. He hummed and kissed your forehead, standing up. He held out a hand to help you up. You took it, letting him pull you up. You held his hand tightly, struggling to stay upright on your legs. He chuckled, letting you lean against him.

“Lo, I’m naked and I can’t walk, how the hell am I supposed to get back to my room?” You questioned, lightly giggling. The whole ordeal seemed unreal. He brought you over to the chair his towel was on and sat you down. He walked around the room, picking up your undergarments and giving them to you. He tossed his wife-beater tank top at you. Slipping your clothes and his tank on, you tried standing up but failed, slumping back into the chair. Logan laughed, loudly, much to your dismay. He came over and picked you up, bridal style.

“I’ll carry you back, Princess.” He explained. Your eyes widened at the thought. Like he was reading your mind, he added, “Most of the team is out, we’ll be fine. Plus, don’t think I’m quite done with you yet.”

You blushed, hiding your face against his chest. You simply nodded, and clung tighter to him. He brought you to your room. Luckily, no one saw. Kicking the door closed behind him, he set you on the bed gently.

“Can cuddle for a minute first?” You mumbled. He kissed your forehead again, nodding. He climbed into bed next to you. He let you snuggle up against him, his chest still bare. You accidentally dozed off, almost immediately, tired from the ‘sparring’.

A/N: I’m watching X-Men: Days of Future Past and Logan is so cunty I can’t 70’s fashion suits him so well. And just the physique Jesus Christ the first scene with him showing almost everything 🫣🫣 my jaw, on the floor. My panties, soaked. Thank you 🙏🏻

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 13

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: I had this pistachio cake and it was so good. I didn't know what else to put here but yum.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You’re shaking, barely able to keep your legs from collapsing beneath you. Even with Bucky’s arm around you, you’re weak. His confidence makes you feel even smaller; reminds you of who and what you really are. You’re not this. You’re not arm candy. You’re not some gorgeous supermodel. You’re just you. 

As you get to the end of the hall, you face the elevator and wait. His large hand squeezes your hip and he draws you even closer. He surprises you with a peck on your head. A thrill flows through you. 

“I’m the luckiest guy in this casino, baby,” he purrs and urges you through the doors as they open. 

You gulp and lean back into his arm as you step on, the transparent walls peering down on the drop. You try not to look and put your hand over his. You cling to his fingers and close your eyes, dizzy from the descent. 

“Ah, I forgot, doll,” he holds you even snugger, “Don’t worry, I got you. You stay close to me, alright?” 

“Okay,” you wisp out as the motion of the elevator adds to your displacement. 

When at last you reach the bottom, you nearly wriggle right out of his hold. He keeps you firmly against him and struts off with you at his side. He releases you only to hook his arm through yours. You cling to him if only to keep from tripping in the heels. 

You look down at yourself, recalling your attire as you pass a mirrored wall. You barely recognise the woman and yet it’s you. The make-up isn’t too heavy, your hair is perfectly done, and despite your frightened expression, you look good. Better than ever. Well, anything is an improvement over your typical aesthetic. 

You pass through the hotel lobby into the main room of the casino. The ringing of machines and flashing lights stun you. He stops with you and raises his chin proudly. To him, it’s just another night. For you, it’s a night you won’t ever forget; one you’ll never know again. 

“All of this is ours, doll,” he says. You wince at that word; ‘ours’. It’s a fantasy, he knows it. It must be what he tells all his women. 

You can only let a jitter shake you. He continues on and you follow. The chaos of the casino has you senseless. You drift through like his shadow as he pulls you along.  

Yet, you notice that you are not unseen. You feel the eyes all around you, you see them. Necks crane, bodies twists, and lips whisper. You’re overly aware that they’re watching you. No, they’re watching him. 

You feel ice form a shell over you. You numb yourself to it all as best you can. If you let yourself feel the storm brewing inside you, it will surely blow you over.  

Bucky stops you and winks at you. He reaches to rub your hand on his forearm and gives a squeeze, “relax. I got you. You trust me, don’t you?” 

You exhale and nod, “yes.” 

“Alright, then, doll,” he pulls his arm back and puts his hand on the small of your back, “let’s go.” 

He walks you along, a casual pace. The looks continue. People acknowledge him as he passes, the bartender calls him sir and several other staff. He approaches a table and you steel yourself nervously. Men in suits chuckle loudly as dice are thrown against the trim. 

“Stark,” Barnes stops beside a man with grey patches at his temple, “you didn’t bring your own dice again, did you?” 

“They searched me on the way in. What’s that about?” The man snickers, “but I see you get to bring your own toys.” 

The man makes a show of looking around Bucky, leering at you. Bucky pushes him straight by the chest, “never had any problem finding something to play with.” 

“Ah, don’t be so sensitive. Your girls are always so much fun,” the man, Stark, taunts. 

“Keep your hands to yourself, that goes for the staff too,” Bucky warns. 

“Wow, have you demoted yourself to bouncer now?” 

“These are my people, Tony,” he claps the man’s shoulder, “consider it a friendly reminder. I know you tend to forget.” 

The man scoffs and rolls his eyes. He takes the dice as they’re held out to him and tosses them onto the felt. Bucky tickles your lower back with his finger and you squirm, elbowing an unexpected figure behind you. You let out a squeak and turn as Bucky does the same. 

“Hey,” a skinny man, not much taller than yourself greets, “been looking for you.” 

“Steve,” Bucky says, “what’re you doing here?” 

“Ah, you know,” he scratches his floppy golden hair, “you haven’t picked up your phone so--” 

“Shoot, what’s the date?” 

“Buck, it’s tomorrow,” the blond, Steve, grins, “I’m just making sure you show up. Ma would be real disappointed.” 

“I wouldn’t miss Sarah Rogers’ birthday for anything,” Bucky avows, the genuine tone in his voice wrenching at your chest. “You gonna stay and enjoy the tables? You still got your complimentary chips waiting on you.” 

“Told ya, I don’t like to gamble,” Steve chuckles, “but thanks.” 

“I’m sorry, buddy. I should’ve picked up. I’ve been so busy...” Bucky pauses as Steve smiles at you sheepishly as if he’s only just noticed you.  

“I get it,” Steve’s lashes flick, “she’s... miss, you’re real pretty.” 

He sounds as nervous as you feel. His cheeks tinge pink and he tucks his thumbs into his pockets. His brown slacks definitely don’t fit into the sparkling casino. Bucky laughs too. 

“Chill, have a drink at the bar before you go.” 

“Thanks, pal,” Steve smooths back his hair, “but I should probably head out--” 

“She don’t bite, Rogers,” Bucky chides, “well, I’ll tell her to keep her teeth to herself,” he rubs your back and slips his fingers around your side, pulling you close once more. “Have a drink for me, alright?” 

“Alright,” the smaller man exhales, “don’t forget.” 

“I won’t,” Bucky promises. 

As the blond strides away, slightly off kilter as he looks around, seeming lost as he tries to see around the people around, Bucky draws you away from the dice table. The small man reminds you a lot of yourself in some ways. He’s braver than you, he came all alone. 

“That... who?” You wonder. 

“My best friend. Since we were kids,” he answers, “good guy, just a bit... uppity. His ma’s got her birthday tomorrow. You should come.” 

“Oh, uh, that’s... I don’t know--” 

“She’ll be happy to meet ya. She’s been telling me to settle down for years,” he scoffs. “Her son too and he does try...” 

“Well, this isn’t.... it’s early--” you stammer. 

“You still don’t believe me,” he challenges you as he angles you to face him. He brings his hands to your arms, stroking the bare skin with his roughened fingertips, “you don’t think I’m gonna keep ya, doll?” 

“No, I didn’t-- I don’t know. It’s all so new and—I'm sorry, Bucky, I want to—I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know--” 

“Shhh, doll, I’m not mad. I got work to do. That’s fine,” he trails his fingers up the strap of your dress and tickles your throat, “I’ll keep it up, don’t you worry. Let’s get ya a drink.” 

He walks you to the bar, laying his hand on the top as the bartender crosses to him attentively. Bucky pauses before he orders and looks at you, “ladies first. What do you want, doll?” 

You look between Bucky and the bartender. You have no idea. You weren’t planning on drinking, you’re already a mess as it is but you don’t want to be rude. 

“You like cranberry, doll? How about a cosmopolitan?” Bucky suggests. 

You nod and face the bar again, “sure, uh, please, a cos...” 

“Cosmopolitan, coming up,” the bar tender agrees, “usual, sir?” 

“Single,” Bucky holds up a finger, “I wanna keep my wits about me.” 

The bartender sets to work and you fidget. You crane around to see the rest of the casino, a furor rising from the blackjack table. Bucky rubs your arm and draws your attention back to him. You give a nervous smile as you try not to think about those watching you in turn. 

“Hey, don’t even worry about it,” his voice is low and gravelly as he brings a finger up under your chin, “the only thing that matters is us, doll.” 

Before you can react, he leans in to kiss you. You’re caught entirely off guard, trapped in his snare as his tongue glides along your lips. He hums and pulls back, dropping his hand with a sigh. 

“I gotta get a hold on myself,” he laughs as he shows his palm, “you make it hard, doll. You really do.” 

You rock and smile bigger. Your cheeks are fiery and your temples are pounding. The bartender announces your cocktail and puts it up. Bucky takes it and hands it to you. You thank him as he turns to retrieve the short tumbler of flat whiskey. 

“Go on, have a taste, doll,” he encourages as he gives a gentle tap to the base of the stemmed glass. 

You look down at the coned glass of vibrant red liquor and juice, a twist of lemon against the brim. You raise it cautiously and give a sniff before you press your lips around the glass. Your eyes flick up as Bucky lets out a rumble. He fixates on your mouth as you sip, his teeth graze over his lower lip. 

Your cheeks pinch as you taste the mixed drink and you pull it away from your mouth. You dab your lips with your knuckles, terrified of smearing the gloss. You flutter your lashes at him and force another tight smile, “mm, it’s... sweet.” 

“Dangerous,” he smirks, “I don’t do cocktails. They go down to easy.” 

“Oh,” you give a guilty pout. “I don’t...” 

“It’s fine, it’s not that much,” he waves off your excuse, “really, doll, you could use it. It’ll help you relax.” 

“Right, er, thanks,” you slowly turn the stem between your fingers and look down at the glass. “I’m sorry I don’t...” 

“Hm,” he shifts closer as your voice drifts off, “sorry for what, doll?” 

He nudges you smoothly away from the bar, putting you back into step as he casually traverses the floor, his hand right on your back. He guides you subtly with the constant warmth between your hips. It is both comforting and disjointing. He’s there with you, propping you up, and yet you do not belong. 

“I don’t really fit, er, or... know what to do,” you murmur. 

He leans in to hear your small voice. He scoffs. 

“Let me tell you something, doll. You fit just nice on my arm. You don’t need to worry about anyone else but me, you got it? All these people in this room, they’re nothing. All these lights, all this noise, and I can only see you,” he purrs. 

You giggle nervously. He’s so flattering. He always knows just what to say.  

“Thanks, I...” you look away, embarrassed at your little confession. You’re supposed to be trying to blend in and yet you can’t help but put yourself on the sideline. He’s not the type. He is the main attraction. 

“You feel better, doll?” He asks as he rubs the dip of your back. “If it’s too much, we can go somewhere else.” 

“I’m... I’m good. I don’t wanna ruin the night,” you say, “really.” You raise the glass and sip again, “it’s really good, thank you, Bucky.” 

“Mph, I love it when you say my name,” he snarls, “come on.” 

He continues along, guiding you between tables and behind distracted bodies. The tables are packed with gamblers and figures pass from one to one, a line forming around the counter dolling out chips for cash. You take it all in, as if it’s a scene in a movie, observing all the background characters... still, you don’t feel like the star. 

A sharp pain strikes your arm suddenly and you stumble into Bucky. He keeps you from teetering onto your ass as he hugs his arm around you. Your cocktail slips out of your grasp and the glass cracks on the floor, splashing the remnants across the carpet.  

You’re pressed into Bucky as the unstable man latches onto the tall stool he just slid off of. The impact of his elbow thrums in your arm and you rub the tender spot and wince. Bucky shifts you behind him and moves as fast as a shadow. The back of his dark jacket strains across his shoulder blades as he grabs the man by his collar. 

“Hey, what the hell are ya doing? Watch yourself! You nearly knocked my woman over,” he sneers as he as good as shakes the man, “you made a mess of my carpet, you scumbag.” 

“Bucky,” you squeak in horror, the hot eruption of rage surprises you. He is a different man; he looks more like a wolf as he snarls at the offender. “It was an accident--” 

“Nah, it was a mistake,” Bucky brings the man even closer, “get the hell outta my casino before I break you like that glass.” Bucky shoves him away and kicks the broken glass on the floor, “now.” 

He puffs his chest out as the other man rambles drunkenly, apologising and staggering, skittering off in an uneven gait. He glances back several times as if fearing he’ll be followed. Bucky signals across the room and you see a man in a suit nod; he must be security. 

“Bucky,” you touch his elbow and gently graze his sleeve down to his hand, “are you okay?” 

He opens his fist and lets you tuck your hand into his. You’re quaking again. You cling to him out of need. You’re adrenaline rings in your ears. You don’t like anger. 

“I’m sorry--” 

“Don’t be sorry, doll,” he squeezes your hand as he exhales the tension from his shoulders. He looks down at your hand and lifts it, turning to you as he kisses the back of it. He leaves a tingle on your skin, “I like that.” He tightens his grip as he keeps a hold of you, “you need a fresh drink, doll.” 

[hotdogdynamitezzz]

Spicy Astro Observations 18+

This is really just a filler post for my december schedule because the content I've promised has taken so long to write on and off between my finals. I'd like to thank college for these notes, enjoy ig 💘

🌶 Libra Mars are actually quite dominant in bed, it’s so unexpected but I think they’re so good with dirty talk they just naturally know how to control a situation. Degrading others in bed oddly turns them on? for such a sweet sign I think they let their crazy and angry side loose in the bedroom as they always appear sweet and professional in every other space. Very much so lady in the streets freak in the sheets if you will.

💘 A Libra venus will want princess treatment in bed tho, they are the ones wanting to be taken care of and pleased 10000% they also wear the best lingerie hands down. You say one out of pocket thing and they are gone yall, although they like to be experimental! So switch it up.

🌶 Leo mars can sometimes be too controlling or demanding in bed, same with the moon in 8th house men I’ve noticed. In general, sex is lowkey overhyped with fixed-sign men because a lot of them just tell you what to do and order you around, which could be your vibe if you’re hella sub. But if you’re a dom the fixed sign men I’d go for are Scorpio venus & Aquarius moons. They like to be dominated from what I’ve noticed and are open to experimenting.

💘 Those who want to be treated like a princess and praised are libra + leo placements. Basically they have a praise kink lmao.

🌶 Uranus aspecting the ascendant or 7th house in any way usually is an indicator the individual is more open to polyamorous relationships or experimentation from what I’ve seen. it doesn’t always have to be uranus aspecting venus or mars but because the Ascendant - Descendant axis represents our perspective of the world and how others view us, I have noticed they are more open to the lgtbq+ community.

💘 Neptune in the 5th house people are definitely subs from what I’ve seen, they like to be taken care of and edged on until they cry LMFAO but they prefer some element of fantasy and a lot of foreplay to really engage them and turn them on or else it’s just not happening. You need to take them to another realm babes. Also highkey squirters

🌶 Venus/Moon aspecting Neptune in a 0 - 4° orb is also kinda known for squirting.

💘 Venus square Jupiter people and their sex drive is..scary 💀 Honestly they struggle to control their sex drive, these mf’s cannot go a week without sex it’s too hard for them. They find desire and indulge in it a lot, they also love sensual activities and games in bed. Usually there’s an element of power play involved and don’t forget to body worship them lmaoo. I actually see the individuals prefer being doms as well.

🌶 Aries venus men ARE NOT DOMS TBH it shocked me because Aries is the most masculine sign, but venus in a mans chart represents what they look for in women, what will turn them on and such. Therefore, they tend to favour bolder and more dominant women who make the first moves. I've heard a lot of them talking about how their DREAM is to get pushed against a locker by a hot girl and she makes out with them😭💀 - thanks college gossip.

💘 Scorpio & Capricorn mars is all about that BDSM sorry not sorry...same goes for Mars square Uranus which is funny, they like to fight their way to freedom ig lol? Also include Saturn - Mars as Saturn rules over chains & bondage.

^ most likely Capricorn mars likes to be tied up while Scorpio mars likes to be the one in control and tying the person up.

🌶 We know the mercurial signs are great at oral, but PISCES AND SCORPIOS compete for the oral queens and kings title too omg. Scorpio rules the genitals while pisces rules over liquids so...you can see how this plays out HAHA. Pisces can also just drive you over the edge easily? scorpio likes to drag it out while pisces prefers to deliver a fantasy.

💘 Virgo venus people are NOT as innocent as they seem. They LOVE degradation and being sub af, the sign that serves? yeah they gonna do whatever it takes to get you off bae and thoroughly enjoy the process. THEY PAY ATTENTION TO DETAILS TOO! if they find something that turns you on they will be sure to explore it more. Every virgo venus/mars person gives off hot librarian vibes and you just know a lot of them are kinky lol

🌶 Taurus venus is more vanilla but in a sensual and indulgent fashiom as they wanna be comfy and cute while fully embracing pleasure. Most likely they prefer to be taken care of in bed, sucking on their throat is their biggest turn on. They are extremely romantic, the type to get the mood going and prepare roses on the bed. They like things simple and hot because they know what they want.

💘 Leo & Scorpio placements shaking hands on their creampie and corruption kinks help omg LOL. Nothing turns a leo on more than stroking their ego with knowing they’re your first, they get on a power trip fr. As luminaries, they just like knowing they have the effect to influence you. It's always Leo Moon or Mars I've seen this with

🌶 As for Scorpios corruption & creampie kink I've noticed Scorpios are really into wholesome or innocent people? Just completely opposite of their darker personalities. Wanting to ruin someone turns thems on a lot because scorpio rules over power imbalance so Ig thats why. Scorpio also rules over regeneration, life & death so creampies kinda fits in the birth category yknow

💘 Cancer placements also have a weird tendency to be complete doms or subs and nothing in between, they like to give orders which I find funny because it is so not associated with their stereotypes. But in general the sweet zodiac signs ARE REALLY KINKY FOR SOME REASON. 

🌶 Aquarius mars and public sex is actually insane, and the rumours are true a lot of aqua moons I’ve met fantasize about threesomes and orgies. They’re just as much into voyeurism as Sagittarius mars is.

💘 Aquarius Mars also LOVES sex toys, especially vibrators. They literally act like they gonna perform a scientific experiment on your pussy help I can’t

🌶 Every pisces sun man I’ve met is straight up addicted to porn, idc if anyone thinks they’re innocent and cute. THEY HAVE PROBLEMS LMAOO.

💘 A lot of sagittarius mars women I’ve met are doms and love body worship, i think body worship is definitely connected to Jupiter as Zeus is associated with that planet. So y’know, treat them like a god and you will be rewarded lol.

🌶 Speaking of which, Sagittarius rising women are just the most fun people ever, in and out of the bedroom you will literally never get bored they are so funny and cool. I simp for them fr

💘 Neptune or Pisces in the 5th house could be into LSD or acid trips while they have sex, they prefer to use alcohol or some form of substance to lessen their anxiety, they could also highkey be sex addicts as the 5th house is our hobbies and entertainment.

🌶 Mars & Pluto in the 5th house LOVE angry sex, they are the people who have makeup and breakup sex the most I swear, they relieve their stress by having sex.

💘 Those with Gemini/Virgo/Mercury in the 8th house could like handcuffs a lot. I know a girl with this that has a kink for having her hands cuffed and not being able to see.

🌶 If you’re crushing on a Scorpio placement, just make them laugh and get them a little jealous. They will get obsessed, I feel like this is why they tend to have relationships with Geminis so often? because Geminis know how to rile people up, crack a joke or two, and seem unbothered in the process. I have never known a Scorpio venus to be into someone without getting jealous first oops-

💘 Mars in the 6th house is a secret man whore placement, they don’t seem like fuckboys but they use physical activity for their mental health and most often I’ve noticed their way of healing is through sex, and more sex PFFT. 

🌶 12th house stelliums and their fantasies of a person that doesn’t even know they exist lol. To get their attention just randomly pop up to help them once in a while but not too often so they feel special but are curious about you. Doing little things for them yet keeping the mystery and suspense of a crush alive is what keeps them fantasizing tbh.

💘 It’s why 12th house people love virgo placements so much, because virgos always randomly appear to help a pisces/12th house person. While on the other hand the pisces/12th house person devotes themselves and their personal time completely because they can’t see boundaries. It’s cute but I fear for y’all seriously 😀 get some boundaries plz

💘 Scorpio moons please avoid sagittarius & gemini moons at all costs until they’ve matured because a sag moon gets bored easily, moves on, will honestly ghost, and loves to not notify anyone. I know how anxious and paranoid scorpio moons can get and honestly a sag or gemini moon will only worsen your fears and trauma. Everytime I've seen this combination it's ALWAYS the gemini or sag moon leaving the scorpio moon heartbroken and ghosted 🥲

🌶 Sagittarius moons are free spirits, they cannot be tied down but they aren't always cheaters. I'd say their non-committal style differs from gemini in the sense that it will take A LOT to actually get into a relationship with a sag moon and once they're in its unlikely they cheat. While Gemini moons do get bored easily and jump into relationships so they seem to talk to other people and could perhaps cheat.

💘 Scorpio moons will say bs to get you in bed, they are sweet talkers and kinda act like fboys if they're not that into you so just beware. But so will many other moon signs like gemini, pisces & libra lol. It's not always but, these are the fuckboy moon signs from my experiences that will get you attached first.

But their game is good, worth it imo 👌

🌶 Pisces moons are SOO attentive in the bedroom, they will provide everything you want and make you feel so special it’s impossible to not become emotionally attached after you’ve done the deed tbh.

💘 I've noticed people with Saturn, Jupiter or Mars in their 8th House like it rough to the point of begging, they literally wanna see their partner crumble underneath them I’m not even joking...they also are really horny 24/7 because with mars in the 8th house they just have the desire for sex and release tension through it, same with Mars in 5th house. While Jupiter & Saturn can point to difficulties with controlling their sex drive, it’s either wayy too much or they’re celibate for a year. Very all or nothing type of people.

🌶 Leo placements literally wanna be caught fucking someone, again I’M NOT KIDDING they like to be shown off and know other people want them too, very similar to Aquarius mars and gets horny off of anything that feeds their ego tbh. 

💘 Mercury conjunct Venus/Mars people think about sex so much they get horny easily, they are actually the most under-rated horny placement. They don’t just sweet talk or dirty talk their way into your pants but they seem to have a lot of wet dreams and really be into having sex while performing another mental task like video games or smth. Yall secretly so freaky huh 😀

🌶 Venus/Moon in your 12th house makes you wet 24/7 it's like the ocean which is a very 12th house theme. For men it would be their Mars in 12th house. They're horny 24/7 I swear it's actually concerning.

💘 It's kinda hard to get a capricorn mars person turned on, it takes a lot of effort but they can last a while so it's worth it ig. But foreplay is gonna be a while okay, they like to take their time.

🌶 Mars & Mercury in 3rd/5th house people get bored easily during sex so make it competitive and include fun games. They also are the type to flirt with someone out of spite and play mind games. Not always again but- its never dull. They love the drama aspect in relationships tbh, it has to be passionate and fun or they don't fw you.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Hidden Heir

Next ->

The Duke's family had very distinct eyes. It was genetic. An aggressively dominant trait at that, though it tended to die off, after a few generations out of the family. Supposedly a "blessing of the Gods". Spring to be exact. Bounty and luck. And the family certainly WAS bountiful.

In all the best and worst ways.

Wealth, corruption, children and bastards. It was a family so aggressively ALIVE, it could only be Spring's blessing that made them so. Pouring mania and madness into their veins like sweet sunlight. Whispering glory and riches, into power addled ears. They burst with life. Even as they endlessly destroyed themselves.

They were fictional.

Fascinating set dressings, for the stage play of someone else's story. Unimportant beyond their role in world building. As the origin story and power base of a character lead.

The Story ITSELF didn't even occur here. But rather, in the capital. Where the players of significance had gathered.

And I? Oh I was some minor antagonist, so insignificant to the plot, I genuinely could not remember which of seven different women I actually WAS. It had been an ongoing series. Otome Isekai. Reverse harem.

And I was either in the ORIGINAL original novel, the isekai'd plot novel, the anime adaption, OR a horrifying fever dream. My memory was largely useless. But? I did remember the characters. The archetypes.

And the fact, that the author had clearly been going though a Yandere phase.

My region of the Reverse Harem collect-o-thon? Horrifying! Red flags everywhere! No one here should date, leave room for fantasy Jesus, have we considered the joys of being a NUN? Yes. Yes I HAVE thought about it.

I was pretty sure I'd never make it. End up dead or captured by some sort of Nun Yandere. Or God Yandere. Possibly both. Assuming the bandit yanderes don't get me first. It... it was very stressful, living here.

Luckily? I knew when I could leave.

Or so I thought.

Because my house? The Dukedom? Had the "yandere butler who is secretly an heir." Who starts out with loyal dog behavior. A little highly possesive master and servant play. Then rises to become a Duke. Presumably? That is when I die. Or am disowned.

Death is most likely. Since my role was "minor antagonist" and I was to be mean to the sweet, earnest, Harem possessing Protagonist. Don't see WHY I would. Live and let live. Good for her etc etc. But regardless? Best to avoid, just in case.

The problem? Who do you think Mr Illegitimate Heir serves before she gets here? The OTHER possible heirs? Of course not! They'd "oops! Hunting accident~☆" him in a heart beat. Father isn't stupid. And my sisters? Issues. Violent, violent, issues.

He ends up with ME.

Father, WHY.

Obviously, I ignore him. I see nothing. I hear nothing. There is no war in Ba Sing Se. Mmmmm, tea. Good book. Ignore his creepy staring. His creepy, creepy staring.

Thankfully? I never really ran out of Totally Legitimate reasons to send him away to learn or do something. Proper tea making. Door maintenance. Eastern embroidery. Something, anything, and off you go! Bye bye~☆!

Unfortunately. He got faster. Better and better at learning. Mastering skills. Coming BACK. Showing up to stand in the corner, silent and looming, like an omen of death. Those damn eyes. The fucking family eyes!

I don't have them. And NOT as, my Father would have me believe, because I "take after my Mother". But because I am not genetically related to the Duke. I have GOLD eyes. When I wear the right shade of green? I pass. So I am condemned to forever wear green. Don't even really like it much. But?

I am pretty damn sure? I was just... pretty.

A lovely, orphaned, golden eyed child that COULD pass as his. So why not? It was a whim that payed off. Unlike in the original stories, I imagine. Since I am by FAR the best behaved child in this entire house. Ha! Suck it, bio-kids, the adopted one's the favorite! Maybe should have been less lil bitchs.

....I carefully do not say.

Those are INSIDE thoughts.

Fuck. He's still LOOMING. Isn't he? Go awaaaaaay. Where is Protag-chan? Come be doe eyed and busty! Trip adorably! Go "kyaaa~" or something! I feel body heat and freeze. He's leaning over my shoulder to pick up the teapot, pour me another cup. I can FEEL the barest graze of his knuckles against my back, from where he's gripped my chair. The smell of his aftershave almost hauntingly pleasant.

Like he KNEW exactly what smells I liked most. Went out of his way to find one that best suited my preference. Coincidence. Please, PLEASE be a coincidence! I do not turn my head. Keep my eyes locked straight ahead. Barely breathing.

He steps back.

The new pot is sharp and herbal. Almost bitter. I force myself to drink. Can't see a sugar dish, and REFUSE to turn around and ask for one. Ignore. IGNORE. My pounding heart calms. My muscles slowly start to relax.

It... it IS weird, though, now that I think about it? That Protag-chan hasn't reached the Dukedom yet. She should have. God only knows I sent Creepy to the capital enough times, with enough highly specific instructions, that he should've had his meet cute's and dates by the dozen. Been half way in love. So... why...?

Huh.

Dizzy.

The taste of tea sits wrong on my tounge. I stop drinking as the world sways. Letting the cup fall from my hand. Splatter, roll, and shatter. I try desperately to stand. A gentle gloved hand catches my elbow, supporting me. I turn. Giddy eyes. Triumphant, wide, spring green eyes. Too green to be gold, too gold to be green.

An almost cruel, mocking, yet loving grin.

Another hand slides around my waist, braces me against his side. Gleeful little murmurs, too pleased to be reassuring. You. You did this! You DRUGGED ME!

I can barely move, body relaxing against my command, going limp, as he draws me close. Presses his face against the side of my head, against my temple. A deep, shuddering breathe, that he savors like wine. I try to pull free but can not. Feel his lips pull into a vicious grin against my skin. Hands begin to run in gentle, claiming, exploration.

And at last the drugs kick in... the wo..rld..

G..oes..

Dar..k........

[yoonguurt]

Summary: Spring brings with it the need for a change. You're in a writing rut and that just can't happen right now. You decided to spend a few months with your aunt at her massive garden estate. for the first time in 10 years. Dreams of a boy you don't remember become a nightly thing. Who is this boy?

Pairing: Hongjoong x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, fantasy

AU/Trope: long lost friends to lovers, a twist on The Secret Garden

Word count: 12,295

Warnings: parental death, themes of curses, talks of insanity, mentions of kidnapping, a horrible old woman, threats. I think that's all but it's also 2 am so brain a little fuzzy. NSFW warnings under the cut

A/N: This is for the Language of Flowers event for @cultofdionysusnet I really did put everything I have into this fic. It has taken me a while and I will probably revisit this later since I didn't get everything I wanted in here. Thank you to @kwanisms for making the title banner and reading bits and pieces of this. @anyamaris @pyeonghongrie @justhere4kpop @stardragongalaxy also helped me with reading some of this. Thank you guys for putting up with the screenshots and eye emojis.

Smut warnings: unprotected sex (do not do, I will hunt you down), fingering, dry humping, so much kissing, Hongjoong is king of aftercare, virgin Hongjoong, there's no power dynamic here, they’re just soft

Walking into the courtyard of your aunt’s estate was like walking back into a long lost memory. You spent many summers here as a child and while it had been some of the best times of your life, as you had gotten older, the trips stopped. Once you began to transcend into your older teen years, the allure of the massive mansion and grounds lost its appeal. You stopped coming when you were 15. You remember that there was a specific reason why, you just couldn’t remember what that reason was. 

You closed the large iron gate behind you, listening as it made a loud creak. The gate was covered in rust, which was unusual since your aunt was a very meticulous woman. She had to have everything in perfect condition at all times. At least, that was how she was the last time you had seen her 10 years ago. From the phone call you shared, she seemed to still be the same woman she had always been. She may be older, but she still has the same fiery spirit she’s always had. You guess that was where you got it from. 

In all honesty, you have never been overly close with your aunt. You loved her, sure, but she was kind of a mean woman. She was quite a few years younger than your father, 11 to be exact, so she wasn’t elderly when you were a child. She seemed to be a little miserable your entire life, though you were too young to realize that at the time. Thinking back on it now, you realized that your aunt had any possession she could ever want, but you had never seen her have a companion of any sort. No women from the nearby town ever came to visit, and you had never seen a man, other than Steven the gardener, ever pass through the gates. You knew that no one needed anyone of the opposite sex to make their lives better, but you also knew that she must live a lonely life.

The real reason you fell in love with coming to stay the summers was the grounds. The estate was massive. Many times you had spent all day wandering around the grounds, just exploring everything your heart yearned for. You knew you had a favorite spot when you were younger, but its location was another thing slipping your mind. You’d have to make a mental note to try and find your special spot.

The old door is silent as you open in and step inside. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed. A quick glance around the foyer lets you know that not much inside the house has changed either. There are still the same two blue and white flowered vases standing on either side of the door, holding the same kind of lilies they had always held. The small table that held the rotary phone was still in the same place at the base of the stairs, rotary phone still sat atop. Even the curtains were the same. A light sage in color, small embroidered flowers running down the fabric. 

Flowers were always a large part of the decor of your aunt’s home. Each guest room in the house was themed with a different flower. There were numerous gardens spread throughout the grounds, some with mixed plants and some that only grew a particular plant. You knew flowers were really important to your aunt, though every time your curious child tendencies come forward, she would only give a stiff smile and tell you that flowers were beautiful and a woman of her standing deserved to have beauty all around her. Looking back, you can see how forced her smile had been.

“Aunt Helen!” Your voice rang throughout the empty home, surprising even yourself at just how loud your voice carried. You had been told to come right in and make yourself at home, but it didn’t feel right. Not only had you not been here in ten years after abruptly deciding that you didn’t want to return for the summer of your 16th year, but you had also called her out of nowhere to ask if you could spend some time there. Her side of the line had been silent for a few moments before she told you that there shouldn’t be an issue with you coming, but it still felt like she wasn’t sure about her decision. 

You hear footsteps coming from the top of the stairs and you turn to face the stairway with a smile. Helen comes around the corner, her face showing no emotion as she looks down at you. “Y/N. How nice to see you, dear.” Her voice is pleasant enough, though her face is still blank. You guess you must have hurt her by your sudden refusal to come back during your teen years, and then surprised her with an equally sudden request to return. You try to shake the thought from your head, making sure to keep your smile. “Thank you so much for letting me spend the next few months here. I know it was a sudden request, but I think it will really do me some good.”

The last year of your life had been hectic to say the least. You moved from your home on the outskirts of the city to the city proper to be closer to publishers. You had always wanted to be a writer. You could remember always having notebooks full of stories as a child. You had hid them away in any room you could find. By the time you turned 16, you had probably filled 50 notebooks. Like many children, the stories were fantastical and some were nonsense, but it was the process of writing that you enjoyed. Bringing whatever idea that had popped into your head to life was an addiction to you. 

Helen’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making you focus your attention back on the aging lady who was now making her way down the stairs. “It’s no problem at all, dear. There’s no one here but me and Steven, so there’s plenty of room.” Her feet stop in front of you as she lifts her arms toward you for a hug. You quickly drop your bags, scrambling to return her gesture as quickly as you can. The hug is an awkward one. Arms are around middles, but there is a gap between bodies. To anyone looking from a distance, it would seem as if you two don’t even know each other. But, at this time in your life, that’s essentially true. The hug breaks apart almost as soon as it begins, both of you taking a step back to put some distance between you. 

“I’m sure you’ve had a long trip. Go ahead and choose your room and get settled. Though, I’m sure you’ll choose the gardenia room. It always was your favorite.” A smile creeps to your lips at the mention of your childhood choice of room. She was right about it. That room had been your favorite. “Do you still have the gardenia garden, Aunt Helen?” The look on her face takes you aback a little. For a split second, she looks angry. She quickly changes her expression to one of confusion. “Oh dear, there’s never been a garden dedicated solely to gardenias. However, there are some planted in one of the rose gardens. Maybe that is what you’re thinking of.” It’s your turn to be confused. You distinctly remember playing in a garden full of nothing but gardenias. 

You don’t want to argue, there is a chance that you created that memory as one of your stories, so you give her a nod as you tell her that you’re going to go get settled. You grab your bags, though you didn’t bring many, the three that you do have are large and filled to the brim. Making your way up the stairs is a little tricky since there are 20 of them in total, but you manage. Turning left at the top of the stairs, you pick up your pace a little, excited to get to your room. It sits at the end of the hall on the right side. You take a deep breath as you set your bags down to open the door, making sure to open it slowly so you get the wave of nostalgia that you know will come with seeing the room for the first time in years. 

Seeing the room is like a breath of fresh air. It feels like coming home after a long day of work, knowing that relaxation and happiness are waiting for you. It almost makes you want to cry. You leave your bags at the door for a moment, you just need to feel the room first. There are fresh gardenias in a small, white vase on the bedside table. That has always been one of your favorite smells and it makes your heart flutter when it hits your nose. The king size bed has the same white and green bed set it’s always had. The handmade quilt, certainly not made by your aunt, is the color of grass and has gardenias sewn into the fabric. You run your hand over the top of the quilt, memories of spending nights completely enveloped in the warmth of the fabric as you write in one of the many notebooks you always brought with you.

There’s an oak writing table that stands in front of the large bay window that overlooks an area that looks different than the rest of the estate. It looks more run down, like it hadn’t been taken care of in years. You could have sworn that it was once a beautiful garden that you had spent much of your time in. It hits you that you seem to remember that patch of land being your favorite spot, but it doesn’t seem like that is true. 

You turn your attention to the wallpaper. It gives a little more color to the room. The background of the paper is a soft yellow while images of gardenia bushes cover the rest. All perfectly spaced out, just like you know Helen had wanted. You finally decided to grab your bags and start to put your things away, a little more pep in your step. You’re more than excited to be back in this room, where it seems like all of your story ideas seemed to have formed. You feel as if you had the greatest idea for a story while staying here over those summers, but it’s just another thing you can’t remember. Perhaps it will come back with time. You certainly need it to come back.

After all of your things are put away, you make your way back down the stairs to familiarize yourself with the house again. You’re sure that it will all come flooding back, but you’d rather get the learning process over now to prevent any future issues. The sitting room is off to the left of the stairs, through a doorway, the dining room is off to the right. Deciding to look through the left side of the house first, you make your way into the sitting room. The same old couches and chairs adorn the room, though they still look like they’ve never been used. You guess that there’s a chance that they haven’t. The fireplace stands tall and clean, another thing you’re sure Helen has never used. There are multiple tables placed around the room, all made with dark, polished wood. 

To the left there’s another doorway, this one leading into the sunroom. Wicker chairs are placed a few feet from each other, a small table in between each chair. You remember spending your time here when the rain prevented you from your outdoor adventures. You’d sit on the floor since the chairs were always uncomfortable, writing your heart out. You sure wish you could find where those notebooks had gone. The back half of the first floor is Steven’s quarters. He’s always been a nice man, but he keeps to himself and you respect that.

Making your way back through the sitting room, you take a second to look out of the small window that sits on the front of the house. Gardens fill your field of view. More gardens than you ever thought a person could have. You feel certain that Helen has a garden for every flower she could possibly grow. 

The dining room houses a table long enough to sit around 14 people, though you know nowhere near that many people have even been in the house. Like everything else, it’s a dark, polished wood. Helen is nothing but consistent in her design choices. The kitchen sits behind a set of double doors, which are painted a pristine white, no doubt kept clean by the lack of traffic. Helen has to have a maid that comes and cleans at some point, there’s no way she’d ever stoop so low as to clean herself. You already know what the kitchen will look like, large stoves and ovens that could cook meals for an obscene amount of people. Your watch tells you that it will be dark soon so you put off your plan of going out to the gardens until tomorrow. 

Helen is nowhere to be seen, though you aren’t surprised. She’s always been a mysterious woman, keeping to herself much like Steven. A rumbling from your stomach lets you know that you should probably eat, which means that you have to actually venture into the kitchen. Opening the doors, you’re surprised to find a portly woman rummaging through some pans. “Oh. I didn’t realize someone was in here. Usually Steven is the only staff that stays here at the mansion.” Your voice seems to startle the woman, causing her to hit her head on the cabinet she was looking in. She lets out a groan as she rubs the back of her head. “Fuck! Shit! Damn! I am so sorry!” You aren’t sure if you mean to curse, but it happens anyway. The lady turns to face you, a bright smile on her face. “It’s ok, really. I probably would have done that even if you hadn’t startled me.” The giggle she lets out after speaking is infectious, making you giggle along with her. “I’m Julia.” You take her outstretched hand and give it a firm shake. “I’m Y/N. Helen is my aunt.” 

You watch as Julia’s expression sours and you’re half expecting it to bounce back, but it doesn’t. “Didn’t know that mean, old broad had family.” She immediately seems to realize what she said since her eyes go wide and she looks a little panicked. “Oh, shoot! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean that. Ms. Helen is lovely.” Her nervous giggle and her flustered state makes you smile. “Hey, you’re the one that works here and spends more time here than I do. Your opinion of her is probably more accurate than mine. I haven’t seen her since I was 15.” She heaves a sigh of relief at your blatant uncaring attitude towards her unkind words about your aunt. “Whew. Thought I really made a mess of things there. Can I get you something to eat?” You give her a shake of your head, telling her that you were just refamiliarizing yourself with the house before you head up to your room. She gives you a little nod and a smile, telling you that she’ll be heading home soon, but she’ll be back the next morning for breakfast. 

The bed in the gardenia room looks like heaven as you walk through the door. Maybe the trip hit you harder than you expected or maybe it’s just being back here, but your eyes are suddenly heavy and all you want is to sleep. No alarm, no designated time to wake up, just sleep as long as your body needs. You take your time changing into your pajamas and washing your face and brushing your teeth before climbing between the sheets and stretching out. It hits you that you haven’t let your mother know that you arrived safely, so you pull out your phone to type out a quick text. Annoyance comes over you as you look at the screen. No service, of course. You should have known, you are in the middle of nowhere after all. You make the decision to call her from Helen’s phone tomorrow. You wiggle a little, making yourself comfortable and set your phone back on the bedside table, not even bothering to charge it. Flicking the lamp off, you quickly fall into a sleep filled with dreams of a boy with a dazzling smile. 

You wake up feeling more rested than you have felt in years. The sun is already high in the sky when you crawl out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom. You settle for a simple sundress to wear for the day, grabbing a cardigan just in case you get a chill. Today, you explore the gardens. Breakfast is being put away when you make your way into the dining room. Luckily, Julia spots you and greets you with a smile and a wave. “Morning, sunshine. I saved you a plate. I put it in the microwave for you.” You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your stomach growling at the mention of food. You follow her into the kitchen, reaching into the microwave to grab the plate of blueberry pancakes and bacon and involuntarily let out a moan. “These are my favorite. How did you know?” Julia gives you a sly smile. “A certain gardener told me.” Steven? There’s no way he remembered that. You haven’t seen him in years. The look on your face must give your thoughts away. “That man remembers everything. It’s insane, really. So, what are your plans for the day?”

The sundress was a great choice. The weather is wonderful. It’s not too hot, not too cold, the perfect balance fornthe spring. There’s a light breeze blowing, enough to keep you cool, but not make you cold. It’s the perfect day for exploring. You stand by the steps, looking around trying to figure out where to go first. After some thought, you decided to start with the daisy garden. It took some time for you to orient yourself, but you managed more quickly than you thought you would, though most of the layout seemed like muscle memory to you. 

The daisies were off to the left of the grounds, tall hedges sounding the garden. That was something universal with the gardens. Every garden had hedges all the way around it, Helen’s way of making sure that to be able to fully see the garden, you had to actually enter the garden. Every hedge was neatly trimmed, Steven’s doing you’re sure. Taking your time, you slowly maneuvered your way through the garden. Daisies of every color surrounded you, some you were sure were some sort of hybrid or something. Helen seemed to have flowers in colors you had never seen before. There was a patch of what looked like a peach color, and it honestly took your breath away.

In the center of the garden, there was a stone bench that gave a good view of the hedge lion that stood in front of you. You weren’t sure you’d ever not be amazed by Steven’s gardening skills. Every garden seemed to be like it came right out of a fairy tale. The thought of why Helen never opened the grounds to onlookers crossed your mind as you stared at the beauty of the daisy garden, but you quickly dismissed it. Helen was a selfish woman, you wouldn’t dream of denying that. There was no way she would share the possession most dear to her with anyone that she wasn’t related to. You also weren’t sure anyone would come. Your aunt had a bit of a reputation for being a rude woman. 

A memory of going to town on your last summer here came to the forefront of your mind. Helen had taken you to town with her for some reason or another. She rarely made trips into town so you had been excited for the journey. Everyone seemed to move out of the way as Helen walked by. At the time, you hadn’t thought much of it, assuming that they were just being polite. Thinking back on it now, it seemed like they had been afraid of her. It was like they were living in fear of even being perceived by her. 

You had heard them whispering, and if Helen had heard she hadn’t let on. You hadn’t been able to make out much of what they had been saying, mostly just ‘witch’ and ‘old Mrs. Kim.’ That brought back another memory. On your rare trips into town, you had heard old Mrs. Kim mentioned numerous times. Mostly when mothers were disciplining their children for being out late. “I told you to be back here by dusk! Do you want me to end up like old Mrs. Kim?” You hadn’t been, and still weren’t, sure what that meant. Other times, it had been when two women were talking, usually one insinuating that the other was crazy. “You’re acting like old Mrs. Kim, you need to get your head on straight.” You made a mental note to ask Helen who Mrs. Kim had been.

The sun was starting to be a bit much for you, though it wasn’t unbearably hot, you were starting to get a bit uncomfortable. Heaving yourself off of the bench, you made your way back through the garden, still taking your time. The entrance to the garden gave you another flash of memory. A vision of you running as fast as you could, white dress flowing with each step you made. You couldn’t have been more than 9. There was a smile on your face, and it made you smile just seeing the memory. Past you ran towards the run down part of the grounds, but the memory faded as you reached your destination. You shook your head as the image of yourself disappeared, your feet automatically carrying you back to the house. You’d make it to investigate the dilapidated garden. Eventually.

Climbing the stairs to the front porch, the urge to sit in one of the rocking chairs hit you. You smiled to yourself before making your way inside and to the kitchen. You were sure Julia must have made some tea or lemonade, maybe both. Pushing the doors to the kitchen open, the smell of food invaded your nostrils and you gave a pleased hum. “You took longer than I thought you would. It's been about 3 hours.” That explains the sun. You gave her a toothy grin as you made your way to the fridge. “Any chance you have tea or lemonade in here?” The woman gave you a smirk before she spoke. “Both.” You knew it.

Planting yourself in one of the rocking chairs, you sipped your drink. The mix of tea and lemonade was as refreshing and you had hoped. Your thoughts wandered without control. Who had you been running to? Your mind drifted back to the dream you had the night before. The boy with the dazzling smile. Who was he? He seemed so familiar to you, but you couldn't quite place where you knew him from. Maybe he had been a playmate from town. But then again, that didn't make any sense. You were barely in town as a child and even when you were, you never spoke to anyone.

The creaking of the door brought you out of your thoughts. You turned, expecting Julia to walk through, perhaps taking a small break while the food was in the oven. Instead, Steven's form greeted you. “Steven! It's been a long time, how have you been?” Your voice seemed to startle the man since his head whipped in your direction, eyes a little wide. He relaxed once he realized that you were the one speaking. “It's good to see you again, Miss Y/N.” Your face scrunched at the title. He had always called you that and you had always hated it.

“I've told you a thousand times, just call me Y/N. Miss Y/N makes me feel old and like you're below me or something. Helen may like that, but I'm not Helen.” Steven gave you a soft smile as he made his way to sit in the chair to your left. “No can do, Miss Y/N. I'm a gentleman with manners.” The statement made you laugh and give him a playful swat on the arm. “The most gentleman to ever gentleman, Steven.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, enjoying each other's presence. Steven had never been the most talkative, but he had always been comforting. He listened to your childish ramblings all those years ago, nodding his head and gasping when you said something dramatic. He was a friend to you and you loved him for that. 

It was Steven who finally broke the silence, surprisingly. “It sure has been quite lonely without having your visits, Miss Y/N. Glad to have you back. The gardens need you.” You gave him a bright smile, though you were sure that the gardens were thriving in his perfectly capable hands. “Steven, these gardens need no one but you. They're only this beautiful because of the time and care you put into them.” The look on his face was a little somber as he spoke again. “I appreciate it, Miss Y/N, but you and your heart are more needed than you realize. But you will remember in time.” With that, he stood and walked off into the grounds, leaving you rather confused.

The sun was starting to set by the time you went back into the house. Your stomach was starting to growl, and you were sure dinner was close to being ready, if it wasn't already finished. Helen was descending the stairs as you made your way through the front door. “Dear, dinner is ready and you look a bit of a mess.” She glanced down at your hands and legs, which prompted you to look as well. You did have a bit of dirt on your skin. “Go wash up before you join me.” 

Helen had always been this way, a bit rude. You flashed her a tight smile, nodding as you made your way to your room. Stepping through the door of your special sanctuary, you heaved a sigh of relief. The room just felt lighter than the rest of the house. You made quick work of undressing and showering, a bit eager to get food into your body. Once you were bathed and dressed, you stepped out into the hall, not noticing the notebook sitting on your bedside table.

Dinner passed slowly. There wasn't much conversation, though the food was amazing. Julia had made roast and potatoes with a side salad, and you were sure you had never tasted a roast so tender and full of flavor. Voices from the kitchen could barely be heard, Julia and Steven no doubt. You wished you could retreat through the doors and eat with them, their company would be much more welcome than Helen’s. She had finished her food already, but had always been adamant that everyone be finished before anyone left the table.

“Dear.” Her voice caused you to meet her gaze, which was hardened. “While I am pleased to have you back, I must ask why the sudden wish to return.” You knew this would come up eventually. You took a deep breath, thinking through your words carefully. “I needed a break from city life. I have hit a wall with my writing. Being here always gave me new and wonderful ideas. I thought it might help.” Your aunt gave you a curt nod, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin even though she hadn't eaten anything. “Well, if you're done, I'll retire to my room now.” The sliding of her chair filled the quiet room as she turned and made her way to the stairs.

The bed was comfortable as you fell onto it. You weren't particularly tired, but it felt nice to lay down. Steven’s words from earlier swirled through your head. He obviously knew something you didn't, but you also knew that trying to pry would get you nowhere. Out of habit, you turned to grab your phone, mentally cursing yourself when you remembered you had no service and you had forgotten to call your mother. Your attention was immediately diverted to the notebook sitting neatly by your phone, puzzling you.

You hadn't taken a notebook out of your bag, that you knew for certain. Your hand changed direction to reach for the notebook. Shuffling down under your blanket, you brought the book in front you, flipping through the pages. You stopped at a page that was dated just after your 9th birthday. 

The gardens here are so cool. There's so many of them. It'll take me weeks to go through them all.

You chuckled at the thoughts of your past self and flipped a few more pages. This entry was set a few days later.

I found a new garden! I was exploring around the old, gross part of the grounds and I looked through some vines and found it. Aunt Helen called me back before I could get a good look, but I'm gonna go back tomorrow. 

This gave you pause. You didn't remember ever exploring the old part of the grounds. Helen had always told you to stay away from that part of the estate, stating it was dangerous. Deciding to read the next entry, you quickly flipped to the next page.

The new garden is so pretty! It's already my favorite. It has some of every flower and it's huge. And there's a house in there! I didn't see anyone, but maybe tomorrow. 

This had to be some of your childhood stories. There was no way that there was another house on the property. With a sigh, you set the book back on the table and clicked your light off. Giving your pillow a fluff, you laid down and drifted into a dream. 

“Hongjoong that wasn't funny!” The young boy stood in front of you holding his belly and laughing. “You should have seen your face!” He flailed his arms around and made an exaggerated scared face while you pouted. “You shouldn't scare me like that. It's not nice.” One look at your face let him know that he had really messed up, you looked like you were about to cry. “I'm sorry Y/N. I didn't mean to make you sad. I never want to make you sad.” You perked up after his apology, telling him that it was ok and reaching for his hand. He took your hand in his and you both ran off into the garden. 

You awoke with a startle, a little disoriented. The dream was still fresh on your mind, and it left so many questions. Was that the garden you had written about in the notebook? Why did the dream seem so real? It had been like a distant memory. And who the fuck was Hongjoong? Your immediate reaction was to grab the notebook again and try to search for the name, but a knock on the bedroom door made you put that off. “Y/N dear, I’m going into town today and I would like for you to join me. Do hurry and get ready, please. I’d rather not have to wait much longer.”

The ride to town with Helen was silent, just as it always had been. Why she wanted you to join was beyond you, but you could use the time to go over your thoughts. Despite being confused,  you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness at having woken up from your dream. The boy, Hongjoong it seemed, had already created a home in your mind. He seemed so familiar, like an old friend. But you were sure you had never met him. So, why was he invading your dreams? And why did you have such a vivid picture of this new garden? Was it something your mind had conjured on its own? It had to be. There had never been a garden in the dilapidated part of the grounds, and there certainly had never been another house. 

The abrupt stop of the car brought you out of your deep thoughts. Swiveling your head, you noticed that Helen had parked at the town market. It was a small building for a small town, nothing fancy, but it had all the essentials. The market was set in a shopping center of sorts, again just a small little gathering of buildings. There was a clothing store, a barbershop and the library all huddled around one parking lot. An idea sprung to the forefront of your mind. “Aunt Helen, I think I’d like to visit the library, if that’s ok. I could use a good book to read.” You aren’t entirely sure why you decided to lie to your aunt, something just told you that you probably shouldn’t tell her your actual plans. Helen heaved a heavy sigh from the driver’s seat. “I was hoping you would actually help me, but do as you wish, dear.” Turning your head and rolling your eyes, you stepped out of the car and made your way to the library doors.

The library was like any other library, you weren’t really sure why you expected anything else. Like everything in the town, it was small, but it seemed to be bigger than it looked from the outside. Rows of bookshelves spanned down each side of the building and behind the librarian’s desk. Stepping forward, you stopped at the desk where an older lady with thin glasses and a tight bun looked up at you. You held in a giggle at the stereotypical librarian look. “Good afternoon, how can I help you?” She had a friendly smile, a genuine smile rather than the customer service smile many people wore when they were working. “Good afternoon, ma’am. Does this library have newspaper archives?”

Surprisingly, the library had a basement. It was a bit drafty, letting the cool, spring air run through the room. It obviously wasn’t used much, boxes stacked up in one corner. The librarian led you to a single computer that sat on a desk in the very back of the basement. “Sorry that you have to come all the way down here for the archives.” She gave you a kind, somewhat sad smile. “Pretty much everything has transferred to tablets or whatever new fangled technology the kids are using these days. But the newspaper archives haven’t been switched over yet, they’re still on this computer, aside from much older ones that are still on floppy disks.” You gave her a nod of your head with a reassurance that this was fine. “What year are you looking for, sweetie?” It took a moment for you to answer. “I don’t know.”

The blinking cursor on the screen was a bit daunting. The kind librarian had been patient with you, letting you know that it was ok to not know a year and that a name could be used as well. All you had to do was type it into the search bar. If the name couldn't be found, always check the floppies. You didn't think you'd have to go back that far. Were you crazy? You didn't even have a full name. Just Hongjoong. There had to be more than just one Hongjoong, how would you know what you were looking for? Pushing the doubts aside, you typed in Hongjoong's name and pressed enter.

Unlike what you expected, only a couple of articles popped up. The headlines were vastly different from each other, and you were sure the two couldn't be related. After looking over the words for a moment, you chose to click on the first link.

Father takes son and runs.

Kim Jae-seok and Kim Hongjoong have been missing for 3 weeks at this point. While it was first suspected that the father and son had had an unfortunate accident, the running theory now is that Jae-seok has kidnapped his son and left his wife, Kim Eunbi. Mrs. Kim has adamantly argued against this theory, blaming a local woman for the disappearances, but there is no evidence at this time to substantiate her claims.

You stared at the screen with a baffled expression. At the bottom of the article there was a picture of a young boy and an older man, both wearing giant grins. The boy sat on the man’s shoulders, arms wrapped around the man’s forehead. The caption at the bottom of the picture gave the pair’s names. Kim Jae-seok and Kim Hongjoong. The article was dated around the time you would have been 9, and the boy looked to be around your age. He was also the Hongjoong from your dream.

It took you a few minutes to gather the gumption to click on the next article. After a few deep breaths, you moved the mouse, ready for what came next.

Mother of missing boy ostracized: grief or insanity?

2 years after the disappearance of her son and husband, Kim Eunbi has been shunned by the community. She has stuck to her initial claims that a local woman is responsible for the disappearances. Her claims that the owner of the large garden estate has her family hidden away have remained consistent throughout the investigation. Searches were done, but no trace of Kim Jae-seok and Kim Hongjoong were found. The woman is quoted saying “I feel for the poor woman, losing her family, but I certainly have nothing to do with her misfortune.” At this time, the case has been cold. It is still thought that Jae-seok had kidnapped their son.

As you read the words, your mind swirled. Mrs. Kim seemed to believe that Helen had something to do with the disappearances. But to your knowledge, Helen hadn't really spoken to anyone from town. Her visits were always quick, with as little interaction as possible. Looking at you watch let you know that you didn't have much time left before your aunt was done with her errands. On a whim, you erased Hongjoong's name from the search bar, typing in his mother's name instead.

The same articles popped up, only there was one thing added. An obituary. Your heart panged as you read it. She died without knowing what became of her husband and son. You quickly closed out of the tab, rushing back upstairs, thanking the librarian again on your way out. Helen was just getting back to her car as you stepped through the library doors.

You helped her put her groceries into her car, silent the entire time. You definitely had some things to think about. There was no way your hermit of an aunt could have anything to do with the case of the missing men. Mrs. Kim had to have had some sort of mental break due to her grief. Once the bags were neatly placed in the trunk, you took your place in the passenger seat once more.

“Where's your book, dear?” Helen was quick to notice that you came back from the library empty handed and you quickly came up with a believable excuse. “Nothing really interested me. I didn't want to keep you waiting.” That seemed to satisfy her, giving you a nod and a hum. Your thoughts drifted again. Sure Helen was rude, but she wasn't dangerous. Was she?

Steven came to help bring the groceries inside, Julia following soon after. With their blessing, you decided to tour another garden. Maybe that would help you clear your head. You started walking, not really having a particular garden in mind, stopping at the first one you came to. Camillas. Though the camilla garden was one of the smaller gardens, it was still large. 

Rather than hedges surrounding it, there was a tall fence, dark wood of course. Helen did have a theme after all. Despite your thoughts, you tried to pay attention to the beauty surrounding you. Once again, there were flowers of every color. How Helen managed to find so many colors baffled you, but you guessed that when you had that much money, things were more possible for you.  

At the center of the garden stood another statue. Every garden had one, or some sort of hedge animal, if you remembered correctly. This particular statue was of a man with a young boy peeking from behind the man's leg. The base of the statue had no plaque, but was surrounded by yellow camillas. The man's face was rather somber looking, which was odd for such a beautiful garden. 

Helen watched you from the window, a scowl on her face. You were hiding something and she could tell. She could always tell. Except when it came to her oaf of a gardener. She had never been able to get a good read on the man, despite years of experience and practice. She would have done away with Steven if she were able, but she knew the deal and she couldn't go against that. She didn't know what or how, but she knew something had to be done about your nosey tendencies.

You sat amongst the camillas until the sun began to set and a chill started biting at your skin. You still hadn't made sense of the information you had found in the library. Nothing made sense. You wanted to ask someone if they had heard of Hongjoong and his father, but Helen wasn't an option. You doubt Julia knew anything, which only left Steven. Even if he knew anything, you doubted he would say. He'd been working for your aunt for years, he had a loyalty to her.

“Hey mom. Sorry for not calling sooner. My phone has no service here and it kept slipping my mind.” Your mother’s voice was pleasant as she told you that it was ok. She was sure Helen would have called if you had never arrived. A thought passed through your mind and you considering asking your mother if she knew anything about the Kims. Your voice made the decision for you. “Mom, do you know anything about a missing boy and his father?” Silence. It felt like 5 minutes of silence before your mother spoke again. 

“Jae-seok was a friend of your father's. They had gone to school together and had been close ever since. Your dad had always joked about him becoming his brother in law one day.” Your mother left out a breathy chuckle and you kept your attention steady, wanting to know more. 

“When Jae-Seok met Eunbi, the jokes stopped. It was clear that the two of them were meant to be together. They had been so in love. It didn't take long for them to marry, your father was the best man. After Hongjoong was born, Helen gave Jae-Seok the job as her gardener. He made those gardens what they are.” 

You knew that Jae-Seok had been the gardener, but just how close he was to your family was new information. Your mother continued, giving you everything you knew.

“When Jae-Seok left with Hongjoong, both Eunbi and your father had been insistent that there was no way Jae-Seok would do that. He loved his life and he worshiped Eunbi and treated her like a queen. Your father searched for him as much as he could, but after a while he had to give up. The disappearances were the reason we moved. He just couldn't handle staying in a town with so many memories.”

You didn't know what to say. Your head was spinning a little. You had gotten so much information in such a short period of time. Despite all of the thinking you had done today, you still had more to do. You thanked your mother and talked a bit more before you said your goodbyes. Deciding that you weren't particularly hungry, you let Helen know that you would be skipping dinner. The woman looked far from pleased, but you paid her no mind. You were also unaware of the man standing not too far off with a smile on his face.

Laying on your bed, you felt exhausted. You hadn’t really done anything extensive, but your mind hadn't stopped running in circles since your trip to the library. You went through the facts one more time.

1. You had dreams and journal entries about a boy named Hongjoong. 

2. Your father knew the boy's father.

3. Your aunt had been accused of being involved. 

4. Hongjoong was missing.

Turning to your bedside table, you reached to grab the journal you had found the night before. You paused. There was another journal sitting on top. Where were these coming from? A knock on your door took your attention away from the journals. Giving a deep sigh, you prepared yourself to face Helen. 

Opening the door, you were a little surprised to find Steven. “Thought you should probably eat.” He extended his arm, a plate of the dinner Julia had made in his hand. You couldn't help but smile. Steven was a really nice guy. As you took the plate, you gathered enough courage to ask him a question. “Steven, do you remember me ever mentioning a boy named Hongjoong when I was a child?”

The man stiffed a little before relaxing, as if he was trying to hide his reaction. “I'm sure I can't say, Miss Y/N.” Not the answer you were expecting. Steven remembered everything. “It's getting to be a little past my bedtime. Gotta be up early. You should do some reading, Miss Y/N. Goodnight.”

His mentioning reading struck you as a little odd. He had seen you come back from town, he had to have known you hadn't brought a book back and there weren't any books in your room. Sure, he could have assumed you had brought some with you. That was the most logical explanation, but something was still bothering you.

Shrugging the odd conversation off, you took your food to your bed, planning to nibble on it as you read the journals. You chose the new one, flipping through the pages. Your browsing stop and a page that was dated when you would have been 13.

“Hongjoong and I read today, it was pretty relaxing. I like that I can have someone that doesn't feel the need to always fill the silence. Sometimes that's just what I need, to be in someone's presence but still enjoy the quiet. We did talk a little, though. He's such a great listener. He did get a little sad when I asked him to come look at the gardens with me tomorrow. He said something about not being able to leave. I'm not sure what he meant. I'll try again tomorrow.”

There was a large break in the page before a sentence placed at the very bottom.

“I'm gonna marry him one day.”

You almost closed the book immediately. Your 13 year old self was thinking of marrying her imaginary friend. It just seemed silly. You grabbed the other journal, finding a page before the last one you had read.

“I'm writing this in case I forget, the new garden can be hard to find. All you have to do is find the part of the fence with two missing boards. There's a few spots like that, but the one to the garden has vines all over it and an H carved into the board next to it.”

You finished your food, setting the plate and journal back on the table. Looks like you had some exploring to do tomorrow. 

“Don't do this, Y/N. Please. You know I can't come with you, please don't just stop coming. The look on Hongjoong's face broke your heart. He was your best friend, but you were starting to think this was all in your mind. Some imaginary world you had created in your mind. “Joong, I'm getting too old to play make believe with people who aren't there.” His face changed from sadness to anger. “You know damn well that I'm not an imaginary friend. You know what, go. Leave and don't come back. I'm fine here with my dad anyway.” You couldn't help the tear that fell from your eye as you watched him walk away.”

Waking up in a sweat was becoming normal. You groaned as you climbed out of bed to brush your teeth and change your clothes. Choosing to forego a shower, you'd be getting dirty today anyway, you picked out some jeans and an old shirt that you had turned into a night shirt. You sat and ate breakfast with Helen, choosing to ignore her comments about your outfit. She asked what your plans for the day were and you kept your cool, simply telling her you would be visiting the lilies today. She said nothing as she gathered her dirty dishes and took them to the kitchen.

Steven watched as you walked out of the door and headed to the old part of the estate. He couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped him and the smile that came to his face. He watched your form disappear before he spoke. “Finally.”

The vines were far overgrown. Steven must not worry about this section because there was nothing here. You felt a little ridiculous. Looking around for some garden that probably didn't exist. After an hour of searching, you were ready to give up. You could barely see any of the fence, there was a slim chance you'd be able to find missing boards and a carving. Moving to turn around and head back, you saw a sliver of a missing board. Stepping over to it, you pulled the vines to the side. Two missing boards. You searched around the boards around the gap. On the left board, a small H. 

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the incoming feeling of feeling like a silly little girl. Crouching down, you stepped through the gap. It took a little bit of wiggling, but you made it to the other side. When you lifted your head, you were in awe. The most beautiful garden you had ever seen was before you. Gardenias. Gardenias everywhere.

You stood still for a moment, just taking in the beauty. The shock subsided a little and you took your first steps further into the new majestic place you had found. Your feet seemed to know where to go, weaving you through the bushes. You stopped when you came upon a house. Just like the house from your dreams. You studied the house for a few seconds. It wasn't run down at all. In fact, it looked like it had been well taken care of. You watched the door open and a man step out. He stood there looking at you for what felt like forever. A smile slowly creeped across his face. “You're back.”

Your mind went blank. Suddenly a rush of memories came back to you. Meeting Hongjoong for the first time when you were 9, daily visits to the garden, meeting his dad, kissing him when you were 14. Everything hit you like a wave. You took a small step forward, barely moving. “Hongjoong.” The two of you slowly made your way to each other, both of you a little cautious. Once you were right in front of each other, you took a moment to just take him in.

He was handsome, he had grown into one of the most handsome men you had ever seen, if not the most handsome. He tentatively brought his hand to your cheek as if he was worried you'd back away from him. His thumb made soft movements against your face, his eyes boring into yours. “I thought I'd never see you again. I've waited. Every day I come out and take care of the flowers I planted for you, hoping I'll see you walk up. I've missed you so much. I'm sorry for the last conversation we had.”

You felt tears forming and you did your best to blink them away. You leaned into his touch, relishing in his warmth. You had so many questions for him, but you couldn't bring yourself to ask yet. Your brain was screaming at you to touch him. You quickly reached for him, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. He took no time in hugging you back, squeezing a little tighter. “I'm sorry it took so long for me to come back.” Your words were spoken into his chest, coming out a bit muffled. He must have heard you because he responded immediately. “You're here now. That's all that matters.”

Hongjoong pulled you inside, asking you to tell him about the 10 years he had missed. You told him about your high school and college graduations, moving to the city, becoming a writer. His gaze never wavered from you, fully enthralled in what you had to say. Every now and then he would give your thigh a squeeze. Once you had filled him in on your life, you asked him the same. He could see you looking around the house, obviously wondering where his father was. He let his head fall forward a little.

“Dad died about 3 years ago, it's just me now.” Your heart sank. He had lost the only person he had. He had been completely alone for 3 years. Guilt ran through your body. As if he knew what you were thinking, he grabbed your hand. “Please don't feel guilty. You had a life to live and death is natural.” Your questions finally made their way back to the forefront of your mind. Taking a deep breath, you squeezed his hand. “Joong. Why can't you leave the garden?”

He was silent for a while, gathering his words. “Dad explained everything to me before he died. There was a woman who was in love with him. She had asked him to be with her multiple times, but he always turned her down. When he met my mom, things got bad. He was the gardener here and we lived on the property. In this house, actually.” He paused, taking a deep breath before he continued. 

“She continued to try to change Dad's mind even after he married Mom and I was born, but he still refused. Mom had left to go to town one day and Dad and I were playing in the garden, it was pansies then.” He gave a sad chuckle and met your eyes, gaging your reaction as he continued. 

“Your aunt came to the garden, looking for Dad. She started talking, but she wasn't making any sense. Next thing Dad knew, she was gone. He went looking for her, but when he got to the gate, he couldn't leave. The gate would open, but he couldn't step out. We were trapped.” You could feel the tears running down your face. You were filled with sadness, but also rage. How could Helen do this? Mrs. Kim had been right all along.

“The last thing Dad heard was your aunt telling him that he would stay here until he realized that they weren't meant to be. She said until true love was realized. She said we wouldn't be able to be found, especially by my mother. So, I'm stuck here. I don't even know anything about Mom.” The tears were falling harder now. You knew you had to tell him, but it was so hard.

“I found news articles about your disappearance. Your mother never stopped looking. She looked until she died.” Hongjoong looked broken. He had lost everyone, and he had lost you for years. Every bit of emotion you had ever had for Hongjoong had hit you full force. You had forgotten him, yes, but your heart had apparently not. You decided right then that even though you weren’t sure how, you’d figure out how to get him out of the garden.

You kept returning to see Hongjoong every day for weeks. You were sure that Helen was getting suspicious, but you did your best to keep her from figuring out where you were going. The two of you talked like old times, sometimes even playing tag and hide and seek like you had when you were kids. Hongjoong still had the books the two of you would read all those years ago, and it became a routine of reading together. You had even taken trips to the library to bring him new books to read, which he was immensely grateful for. 

After a month of daily visits, you were sure that you were in love with Hongjoong. You suspected that some part of you always had been, but you were old enough to understand the things you were feeling. You wanted to tell him, but you were nervous. You knew that he would never treat you badly for telling him that you had fallen in love with him, but the fear was still there. The sight of his house made you forget about your worry immediately. He was standing outside, just like he always was. His back was turned to you while he was bent down watering the gardenias that bloomed around the house. With a smirk, you quietly walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. He jumped with a small shriek and turned to face you with a pout. 

“That wasn’t funny. You scared the hell out of me.” You couldn’t help but laugh, remembering how you had said those words to him so many years ago. “Consider that payback for scaring me when we were 9.” The pout disappeared from his face and was replaced with the bright smile you loved to see him wear. Looking at him now, you were definitely in love with him. Without giving it a second thought, you pushed forward, lips meeting his. 

It took him a moment to react, obviously surprised. As soon as he realized what was happening, his lips started to move against yours. Your heart was soaring, you were absolutely sure that you could kiss him every second of the day and never get tired of the feeling. One of his arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you closer, the other making it up to your cheek. Time seemed to stop as the two of you kissed until you had to separate for air. The two of you stared at each other, just taking everything in. “I love you, Joong.” 

Your eyes widened as you heard your own voice. That was definitely not planned. You dropped your gaze, feeling a bit embarrassed. Hongjoong’s fingers found your chin, tilting your face up. “Do you know what gardenias mean?” The question caused you a little confusion, but you shook your head. “Gardenias mean secret love. I planted these because it was my way of telling you that I loved you.  I’ve been in love with you since I was 15. I didn’t realize it until after you left. At first I thought it was just that I missed the only friend I had ever had, but that wasn’t it.” You smiled at him softly, letting him speak until he had said all he needed to say. “I knew it wasn’t that when I would go to the gate every day and just read and wait. I would hear voices on the other side every now and then and I always hoped that it was you. I stopped caring about whether or not I would ever leave the garden, as long as I had you here with me.” He ended his thoughts with a peck to your forehead. 

The tears came again, damn him for being so sweet. “Hongjoong? Will you make love to me?” He took a step back from you and you were sure that you had fucked up. He lowered his head to hide the blush that decorated his cheeks. “I don’t know how.” His voice was only a whisper, and you mentally kicked yourself for not thinking about that. “It’s ok. I’m sorry. We don’t have t-” Your voice was cut short as he stepped forward to grab your hand. “But I want to. Is that ok?” 

Hongjoong laid you onto his bed with shaking hands. Your lips had been pushed against each other since he had told you that he wanted to make love to you. Your heart was so full. You could tell he was nervous. “Joong. Take as long as you need. We don't have to do this now.” Your reassurance seemed to relax the man. “I want to do this now. I'm just nervous.” He gave an embarrassed chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. 

You reached down, rubbing him over his pants. His hips bucked into your hand and he let out a sigh at the contact. He buried his face in your neck, leaving small kisses along your skin. One of his hands slid up your body to your breast, giving it a cautious squeeze. You let out a small moan, letting him know he was doing the right thing. 

The sound seemed to relieve him of some of his nervousness, causing him to nibble on your neck and slide his hand further down your body, stopping over your clothed core. Due to the dress you were wearing, he was able to feel your damp panties, moaning at the feeling. “So wet.” His lips were back on yours immediately. His movements weren't completely on target, but you let him experiment until he found what made you moan the loudest. 

He leaned back, slipping his pants off, leaving him only in his boxers. Looking over him, you could tell that he had made them himself. You could also tell that he was very well endowed. Hongjoong moved to hover over you, resting on his arm beside your head. An idea popped in your head and you hoped it would help with his nerves.

You pulled back from his lips just long enough to speak. “Thrust your hips forward. We can start over our clothes.” His face relaxed a bit as he thrust into your core. His cock hit your clit on the first try and you moaned as your lips found his again. Hongjoong kept a slow pace and you assumed it was an attempt to not cum early. You would have been fine if he had, just having him like this at all was enough. 

He was obviously a natural, hitting the right spot every time he moved his hips. Your hands found their place on his back, nails digging in slightly. He groaned into the kiss and you made a note to push a little further next time. His breathing began to quicken. He pulled back from your body, a little flush on his cheeks. “I don't want to cum yet and I was getting close.” 

You let him know that it was ok if he came, but he shook his head. “You first. You just may have to help me.” You pecked his lips with a nod. Grabbing his hand, you slipped it under the hem of your panties, placing it directly on your clit. “Rub in slow circles, only a little bit of pressure.” He immediately got to work and again, he was a natural. 

His lips found yours yet again, his tongue rubbing at the seam of your lips. Giving him entry to your mouth, your tongues tangled in a perfect dance. You let him lead the kiss, knowing he would do it right. His playing with your clit felt good, but you needed a little more. You pulled away again to give a few more instructions. “Keep your thumb on my clit and slide your fingers down. I need you to finger me.” The circles on your clit stopped for barely a second before he moved into action.

Sliding his index and middle fingers down your pussy to your entrance, he groaned. He suddenly stopped, eyes meeting yours. “Can I see you? All of you?” You gave him a soft smile and a nod reaching to take your dress off. He grabbed the edges of your panties and slide them down your legs. And then he stared. Just stared.

You started to get a little self conscious, squirming. “Beautiful.” His voice was barely audible, but it made your heart flutter. He admired you a little longer before he moved his hand back into position. This thumb found your clit as if he had been doing this for years. His fingers circled your entrance and he smirked at the whine you let out as your hips bucked into his hand. 

He leaned down to kiss you as he slipped his index finger inside of you. You moaned against his lips, wrapping your arms back around him. Just like with his thrusts earlier, he kept his pace slow. After a few slides of his finger, his middle finger joined his index. The feeling of being slightly more full than only a second ago had your head spinning. You were about to pull away to tell him to curl his fingers when he did that on his own. Your nails dug into his back again, causing him to pick up his pace.

You were getting close and you couldn't tell if it was because he was a quick learner, or if it was just him. You didn't care. Hongjoong whined as you began to squeeze his fingers, picking up his pace again. He was the one to pull away this time, moving his face back to your neck. His lips found your ear, biting your lobe slightly. “Cum for me, my love.” And that was all it took for you to cum around his fingers.

He kept his pace until you were pushing his arm away. “Sensitive.” He pulled his hand away from you, looking at your wetness on his fingers. He looked like he was thinking about something, then slowly lifted his hand to his mouth, pushing his fingers into his mouth. The moan he let out was obscene and it made you clench around nothing. You were still a bit winded when you reached for his boxers, letting him know you wanted them off.

He was big, but not too big. His cock was perfect. He positioned himself over you again, giving you another small peck to your lips. He reached down to wrap his hand around his member, placing it at your entrance. He looked up at you. “Ready?” You gave him a nod and he pushed into you slowly, causing you both to moan in unison. Once he was fully seated inside of you, he paused, letting himself get used to the feeling. 

You rubbed his back, trying to help him relax. After a few moments, he pulled his hips back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside of you before he pushed himself back in. He sped up a little, relishing in the feeling of your walls wrapped tightly around him. You could tell by the look on his face that he wouldn't last much longer, and all you wanted was to see him cum. To fill you completely. “It's ok, baby. Cum whenever you're ready. Don't hold back.” 

He sped his hips again, his moans getting louder. His thrusts were getting sloppy and you dug your nails into his back. “I love you, Hongjoong.” He shivered and let out the loudest moan yet as his hips stopped and his seed began to fill you. “I love you. I love you so much.” His words were shaky, but full of emotion. Once he calmed down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you for coming back to me.”

It took two months for your aunt to finally say something to you about the garden. You had woken up, brushed your teeth and changed, and had breakfast before you walked out to go see Hongjoong. This had become such a routine that you could do it without thought. Just as you were approaching the missing boards, a voice came from behind you. “And just where are you going, dear niece?” Your body stiffened as you turned to face her. 

Her face was full of rage. You stood your ground, she had hurt so many people already. You wouldn't let her hurt anyone else. “I'm going to the garden you trapped two innocent people in.” Her face twisted into absolute hatred. “You ungrateful brat. I let you into my home and you disrespect me. How dare you?” It was your turn to feel rage.

“How dare I? How dare YOU? You couldn't accept that you weren't wanted and you cursed an entire family. You took a son and husband away from a woman who did nothing but love a man. You're disgusting.” 

You turned your back to Helen, intent on continuing your trek to see Hongjoong. Your aunt took the opportunity to grab your arm and pull you back towards her. “You will not go back there. I forbid it. If you continue to disobey you can go back to your life in the city.” You tried to pull your arm back, but Helen was stronger than she looked. “Let go of me you wretched woman!”

Hongjoong heard you yell from the garden and his feet moved faster than his brain. He ran to the garden gate, pulling on it, not even thinking twice when it opened for the first time in his life. When he stepped onto the other side, he noticed you with an older woman's hand wrapped around your arm. He saw red. He ran forward, wrapping his arms around the older woman and doing his best to pull her off of you. He managed to get her away, but she quickly broke free from his grip.

“Helen, that is enough!” Steven's voice drew everyone's attention. He was standing a few feet away, Julia by his side. He held a large book in his hand, which he handed to Julia. “This has gone on for too long, it's time to let it go. The boy has done nothing to you.” Helen made eye contact with Julia, noticing the book she held tight to her chest. 

“Yes, I found your book, not that you really hid it.” Steven's voice brought her attention back to him. “You. I don't know how you did it, but this reeks of your doing.” Her words were filled with venom, but Steven looked unbothered. He straightened his back, standing tall and proud.

“You may have forced me into silence about this situation, but I'm a crafty man. You never noticed Miss Y/N's notebooks, but I did.” Everything clicked into place. The sudden appearance of the notebooks, Steven's cryptic words. Everything made sense now.

Hongjoong stepped next to you, both of you still not realizing he had left the garden. His hand reached for yours, intertwining your fingers. You both focused on Steven, waiting for his next words.

“For years I have been forced into this sham of a marriage, into silence about how awful you are. And now it's over. The boy has made it out of the garden, Helen. True love has been realized. Your curse is broken.” 

Everyone seemed to realize that Hongjoong was free at the same time. Heads whipped to face him. Helen’s expression full of anger, yours of awe, and Hongjoong's of confusion. You wrapped your arms around him immediately, bringing him into a hug. It took him a moment to catch up to your enthusiasm, but it wasn't long before he held you tight against him.

“Now, if Miss Julia will help me, we have something planned for you. See, you're not the only one that read this little magic book of yours. We've waited for the day the boy could leave the garden. Now, he's made that garden into a home and I see no reason to take that from him. But a little garden of your own seems appropriate.”

With that, Julia began to read from the book. Her words were quick, not giving Helen enough time to make it to her to stop her. In a flash, Helen was gone. You looked at Julia, confused. You had thought that Helen's new home would appear in front of you. “I never said the garden would be here” 

It didn't take much consideration to decide to stay with Hongjoong in the house he grew up in. The garden was covered in the flowers that he planted for you. It was where your love story began, and it would be where your love story would end. 

Steven reported Helen missing and as her legal husband, that you still didn't understand, he got ownership of the estate. He had tried to give it to you, but you refused. You didn't need the big house, you just needed Hongjoong. 

You received a call from your publisher, letting you know the good news. The draft of your novel had been approved. “You still haven't told me the name of this book, my love.” You smiled at your husband, giving him a sweet kiss. Leaning to place your lips next to his ear, you whispered lowly. “The Secret Garden.”