#not all of us can afford a fucking tailor you know

[thescarvedinsect]

Men's fashion needs more variety, and women's fashion needs more practicality.

[oikasugayama]

You can't escape from chuuya 😜 the same as with dazai with the reader with a short skirt nsfw I wanted the most chuuye😠

fiiiiine, fine. Have Chuuya smut that's twice as long as the Dazai one ;)

MDNI, NSFW, fem!reader in a short skirt, 5k of filthy dirty nasty smutttt, name calling, brat taming, spanking, daddy (only once), fingering, cum eating, blow job, all sorts of shit ok. MDNI MDNI MDNI

You’re always professionally dressed at work. Members of the Port Mafia are paid handsomely, so you can all afford to dress to the nines, even for a simple day in the office or a dangerous tryst out in enemy territory. Like many of your coworkers, you prefer a polished, businessy look when conducting Port Mafia business. You have a closet full of perfectly tailored pantsuits, mostly in black though you do keep a few fun colors should you get the chance to wear them. 

On your days off, however, you’re more or less unrecognizable to your coworkers thanks to the difference in your business style and your personal style. You’re not just fond of bright and pastel colors, you’re obsessed with them. The girlier, prettier, and gaudier a piece of clothing is, the more you love it. You’re inspired by Harajuku, and pastel goth styles, as well as some frilly vintage vibes now and again. You even have a small collection of colorful wigs you like to wear out sometimes when an outfit calls for just the right one. 

One of your favorite outfits includes a black tube top, a cropped pastel pink cardigan that hangs off one shoulder, a black and pink plaid mini skirt over some fashionably ripped fishnet tights and a chunky pair of black platform boots. You like to accessorize of course, and typically go for a pastel pink dog collar choker with a heart pendant, chains hanging across your waist and down one side of your skirt, dangly earrings, and several rings. Depending on your mood, your makeup is either very sharp and black, or very soft and pink, and if you choose to wear a wig, its color is the opposite of the makeup you chose.

On the day you accidentally run into several of your coworkers in a bar, you’re in a pink wig with black eyeliner so sharp it could cut a man. 

You’re not surprised that they don’t recognize you. At work you have very plain, naturally colored hair, typically smoothed back into a bun, much like Higuchi and Gin do. In a plain black suit, it’s hard to show off your style. Besides, you wouldn’t want any of your fun clothes getting ruined in the line of duty. And it’s not like, on the rare occasion you hang out with your coworkers, that you’ve had time to go home and change. Typically if you go anywhere with them that isn’t for work, it’s just to lunch in the middle of the day, or to a bar at the end of a shift. They’ve never known you to look anything except professional.

This leads you to want to have a little fun with them all, to see how close you can get and what you can start saying before one of them catches on that it’s you.

You walk past the group a few times on the way to the bar or to the table you’re perched at. They don’t say anything about you at first, and they’re not talking about anything important from what you hear. On your third trip past, however, you do catch one of them mentioning you, and you use your ability-- which allows you to focus your hearing on anything you so choose within a certain radius-- to eavesdrop from across the loud room.

“--same chick has walked by like 5 times already,” Tachihara says.

“Are you sure?” Gin asks.

“Why does it matter? We’re in public,” Higuchi says. “People are going to walk by.”

“I know it’s definitely her because, I mean, look at her. Of course I noticed her.”

You pretend like you don’t notice when several curious heads turn your way.

“God, she’s hot,” Chuuya says, whistling under his breath. “Fucking Christ, those thighs.”

“Hey, I saw her first,” Tachihara says, while the others roll their eyes and tell the two to quiet down.

“I’d offer to share, but if I get a piece of that ass, it’s fucking mine.”

“Jesus Christ, Chuuya, you’ve had too much to drink already.”

“We’ve been here 20 minutes, I’ve barely had one glass!” he says defensively.

“Why don’t you ask her to dance if you’re so interested?” Akutagawa asks, disinterested but amused at the notion of Chuuya making a fool of himself.

“Nah,” he says, waving his hand at his group. “A hot piece of ass like that you’ve gotta chase a little. I’ve gotta buy her a drink, maybe, then ask her to dance later, then lay on the charm.”

“You’re a real ladies man, Chuuya,” Tachihara says sarcastically.

The conversation gradually turns to something else. You let it drift away since your focus isn’t exactly on them anymore, it’s suddenly on the pulsing desire burning in your crotch. “Holy shit,” you think. “Chuuya wants to fuck me so bad he’s making stupid ass plans for it.” Honestly, he could hit it any day of the week if he’d just ask, but he’s never seemed too interested in you at work. “This is what does it for him, I guess,” you think, downing the rest of your drink. You then decide to grab his attention again by stretching a little, arching your back and raising your arms over your head to make your cropped cardigan and your tube top expose a bit of your belly. It’s not a lot, but for someone already desperate to see more of you, it works.

“Fucking hell,” Chuuya mutters under his breath, eyes on you. You make eye contact with him and wink, and when he smirks instead of looking away, you run your hand up your thigh, pulling your short skirt up even higher. His eyebrows raise, giving you a look like “oh yeah?” and you smile. 

“His move,” you think, using your other hand to twirl your empty glass around a little bit. Chuuya excuses himself from the group and goes to the bar quickly.

You’ve got him hook, line, and sinker.

It’s then that the worst thing happens. Higuchi’s phone rings, then Gin’s, and Tachihara’s, and Akutagawa’s, and Chuuya’s, and yours. It’s an emergency alert from the PM. You’re all being called in, and you need to be there fast. You’re only a couple of blocks from the office. All of your coworkers will be there in less than 10 minutes. You don’t have time to go home and change. You have to go right now.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss under your breath, getting up and rushing for the door before the others do. Maybe if you get out ahead of them they won’t notice you--

“God dammit,” Chuuya groans. “I was just about to get her a fuckin’ drink.”

“She’s running out, too,” Higuchi points out.

“It’s weird that she’s going in the same direction as us, right?” Tachihara asks, unsure.

“There are a lot of other things out this way, dumbass,” Chuuya says.

Then you take a left, and the group takes a left. They get closer, and you try to walk faster.

Then you take a right, and they take a right. Then you approach the PM headquarter building.

“What the fuck?” Chuuya asks, rushing forward to try to stop you at the door, but you rush inside as soon as the door opens a crack.

“Hey!” Tachihara calls, rushing in after you. You hit the button to call an elevator, but realize the only available one is several floors away. You’re cornered. The jig is up.

Fuck.

“Heeeey,” you say, slowly turning around to greet the group as they gather. “Any of you know what the emergency is? I’m wondering if it’s about the Detective Agency’s involvement in our failed gun import. I was just telling Akutagawa-san yesterday that I had a feeling they’d end up losing the guns to some other organization stealing them before the Detectives could decide whether to turn us in over it.”

“Oh my god,” Higuchi gasps.

“It’s [Y/N],” Gin says.

“What?!” Chuuya and Tachihara both say, and Akutagawa is the only one to stay focused.

“It likely is exactly that,” he says. “Your foresight is spot on as usual.”

“What’s with this outfit?!” Higuchi asks, feeling your cardigan and grabbing the hem of your skirt. “It’s so short! Why are you dressed like this? You were at the same bar as us!”

“This is how I dress on my days off,” you answer honestly, shrugging. The elevator doors finally open and you all start to file in. “And yes, I’m well aware we were at the same bar,” you say, glancing at Chuuya as he shuffles past you. His cheeks blaze and his eyes lock onto the ground, refusing to meet your gaze.

So that’s how it is.

The emergency meeting goes on for two tense hours. It’s exactly what you and Akutagawa thought it would be about, and your group, as well as other Mafia and specifically Black Lizard leaders and members discuss action plans, potential repercussions, and viable reconnaissance missions. When Mori finally announces that you all deserve a break and that you’re meet again in an hour, you’re the first to get up and leave the room, feeling embarrassed to be in a work situation in your fun outfit.

Several footsteps follow you into the hallway, but they all patter off in different directions after a turn here, a turn there.

Only one set of steps follows you into the stairwell. It’s quiet, with very light steps, but you know it’s there thanks to your impeccable hearing.

The same footsteps follow you down two floors, three, four, five…

You feel like you’re being chased, but you think you know exactly who it is, and so the chase is more exciting than it is scary.

You finally get to the floor that your office is on and leave the stairwell. You walk quickly to your office, go in but leave the door cracked, and to test your theory that you’re being followed, you “accidentally” drop your phone after walking a few feet inside. You slowly bend over, letting your short skirt rise up over the curve of your ass, completely exposing your fishnet-covered ass and black thong to anyone who may be standing at the door. You grab your phone slowly, give a cheeky shake of your butt, then stand back up.

Your office door clicks closed behind you, and the lock engages loudly.

“That show for me?” Chuuya asks. You turn to find him leaning against your door. A quick glance down shows you that he’s already at least half-hard in his pants.

“Who else?” you ask softly, leaning against the edge of the desk. It’s cold on your mostly bare ass, but you act cool, crossing one ankle over the other. Your legs look long and sexy stretched out in front of you, and you can tell that Chuuya thinks so too because he can’t stop looking at them.

“It’s a shame we were called away,” you say to break the tension. “I was looking forward to that drink.”

“Were you?” he asks, slowly walking toward you. His hands are deep in his pockets like usual, always acting calm and cool. The look in his eye is different than normal, though. It’s hungry. “Nice to know.”

“You know, you’re not as forward as I thought you’d be,” you admit, leaning back on your hands. You’re on full display for him now. “I half expected you to be all over me as soon as you closed that door.”

“Tell me to leave,” he says, finally standing toe to toe with you. “Tell me to get the fuck out otherwise I will be all over you.”

“Why would I tell you to get the fuck out when I could tell you to come the fuck on already?”

Chuuya makes a noise between a moan and a growl and leaps forward, standing so both of his legs are over yours. He grabs your face with both of his hands and pulls you in for a hot, hard kiss. It’s all tongue and nipping at each other’s lips and hot panting into each other’s mouths.

Your hands shamelessly roam his body once you’ve sat up to meet him. You push his jackets back off of his shoulders so it falls onto the ground. You feel his muscular back and shoulders and arms. You slide your hands lower, feeling his sides and hips. You start messing with his belt by the time he even realizes he can touch you back.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he pants, yanking at your cardigan so you take it off. “Honestly good that you don’t fucking dress like this at work,” he says, yanking your tube top down too so your breasts are exposed. “I’d be fucking you every time I fucking see you.” He gropes your tits, squeezing them and massaging them in his hands. He tweaks your perked nipples, rolling them between his fingers, making them hard and sensitive. 

“Chuuya,” you whine, “why don’t you suck on them if you like them so much?” He looks up at you and smirks, temporarily grabbing you by the hips to push you further back on your desk so you can lay down comfortably. Once you’re flat he climbs on top, knees on either side of your hips, and leans down to your chest. He licks wet stripes across your tit, teasing your nipple with his tongue. He kisses open-mouthed around your boob, refusing to give you what you really want until you finally whine and shift under him, then he sucks your nipple into his mouth and keeps steady pressure on it for several seconds until finally releasing it with a wet smacking sound. He gives the other breast a similar treatment, teasing and sucking and licking. You reach a hand up into his hair, gently moaning his name while you card your fingers through.

He starts grinding his hard-on against your lower belly, just above your crotch given the way that he’s kneeled over you. You whimper and push your hips up, trying to meet him as he grinds. He’s thoroughly attached to your breasts, playing with one nipple while sucking on the other, trading, kissing, sucking hickies onto them. He works a stream of moans and pants and whines from you, getting you to moan his name several times, which makes him grind down onto you harder.

Finally, his hand leaves your chest and trails down your body, his slightly calloused fingers feeling rough on your soft skin. Chuuya flips your short skirt up, wasting no time in cupping your still-clothed cunt and stroking his fingers over it.

“God damn, you’re wet already,” he says, shifting so his face is against your neck.

“You’re fucking hot,” you admit, tugging on his hair. He bites not-so-gently, leaving an instant red and purple hickey on a very obvious spot. His fingers slowly spread, coming together again almost squeezing your pussy lips together. He does it again after you moan in his ear, adding more pressure to tease you with, and again, but this time his fingers dip under your panties and bunch the fabric up together. He pulls it up, several inches higher than your body, making the fabric squeeze in between your lips, leaving it pressing against your clit.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, chuckling when you grind up against his hand and your own panties, seeking stimulation. “That why you’re letting me touch your cunt? ‘Cause you think I’m hot?”

“Yeah,” you whine, still grinding upward. It’s working, your movements are giving you little shocks of pleasure as the damp fabric drags across your clit and also teases your pussy somewhat. “I’d let you fuck me too.” Your voice is breathy and unsteady, and Chuuya can tell just from the sound of it that you’re getting really worked up.

“I don’t know, doll,” he says, hovering over you by one hand pressed against the desk beside your head. “I kind of like the view watching you fuck yourself on my hand.”

“It’s not really ‘on your hand’ without your fingers in me.” You could swear that his eyes light up.

“What was that?” He teases you again, drifting his fingers over the extremely sensitive skin of your pussy. “Did you say something--” he dips a finger past your lips just enough to hook around your panties and pull them back, pushing them to the side-- “about my fingers?”

“Fucking tease,” you huff, reaching down to grab his hand, but he becomes an immovable force when you try to push his hand further down. “Oh and that stupid fucking ability of yours.” He laughs at that and tsks at you.

“You’ve got a dirty fuckin’ mouth,” he says. “Maybe you need something good in there to clean it out.” He gets off the desk and unbuckles his belt, unzips his pants, and kicks them to the floor. You sit up to see him in just his black underwear and white t-shirt, palming himself through the fabric. “C’mere and suck this dick.”

You obey, getting onto the ground with shaky thighs. He’d gotten you more worked up than you realized, and knowing yourself, sucking his dick is not going to calm you down, it’s going to get you closer to the edge.

You pull his boxers down and he steps out of them. His cock is thick and longer than your fist when you close it around his shaft. You give him a few pumps, spreading some pre-cum down his length, before leaning forward with an open mouth to take him in greedily. You start bobbing your head immediately, trying to take as much of him as possible. He stretches your mouth more than anyone else ever has, and you have a feeling your jaw is gonna get sore if you do this for too long.

Chuuya grabs fistfulls of your hair and uses it to guide you back and forth, setting a quicker pace than you already were. He works up to fucking your mouth, using your head like a sex toy. His tip bounces off the back of your throat multiple times, and you have to focus really hard on not gagging. You get messy, letting spit and drool fall out of the corners of your mouth. Tears also spring up in your eyes from him fucking your throat, but you don’t even try to stop them from falling. Your eyeliner is waterproof, but your mascara isn’t, so some black streaks may fall down your cheeks, but you don’t care. You honestly kind of want to see the fucked out look on your face when this is all over.

“You’re too good at this,” Chuuya moans. “Fucking cockslut, aren’t you? Gonna be my slut now, huh? Gonna let me fuck your throat some more, right? Whenever I want?”

You hum around him but can’t exactly nod given his cock in your mouth. He gets it though, and he also moans when you hum as the vibrations go straight into his sensitive tip when it touches the back of your mouth.

“Gonna cum in your mouth,” he grunts, “gonna make you eat it all.”

You try to shake your head, pushing back on his thighs, whining.

“No?” he asks, slowing down and stopping. “Why not, doll?” He lets you back up, finally letting go of your hair.

“That’s a waste,” you croak out, then clear your throat and try to make the fucked-out sound go away. “If you don’t bend me over my desk and fuck me until I scream I’m never fucking touching you again.”

“Oh, fuck yeah!” he says excitedly, reaching down for your arms. He picks you up effortlessly thanks to his ability, and for some reason that really does it for you. You moan just from that touch, feeling your pussy throb. Then he turns you around, pushes you down onto your desk, and smacks your ass hard. You yelp and then moan as he rubs the sting out.

“Where do you want me to cum? On your back?”

“In my cunt, dumbass.”

“Geez, you’re a fucking bitch, you know that?” he hisses, squeezing one hand around the base of his cock while the other swings and spanks you again. “And it’s so fucking hot.” He spanks you again. He refuses to tell you he felt his orgasm building from you telling him to cum inside, though his brain is being overrun by that thought now.

He flips your skirt up and rubs his hands on your ass, squeezing your cheeks and gently smacking them to make them jiggle.

“Are you having fun?” you ask him, earning another hard spank, which you moan loudly in response to, a fun smirk on your face. “I kinda like that,” you coo, wiggling your hips back toward him. “Spank me again, Chuuya-san. I’ve been very, very bad.” 

He spanks you hard and you yelp, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “Oh, fuck,” you moan softly, torn between pleasure and pain. “You’re an asshole.” He spanks you again on the other cheek. “Will you fuck me already, asshole?”

“I would if you’d stop being a bitch.”

“Maybe you’ve gotta fuck the bitch out of me,” you say, trying to look at him over your shoulder. “You’ll never know until you try.”

“Amen,” he says flippantly, pulling your panties to the side again to make sure they’re still out of his way. He rubs his fingers over your wet pussy, dipping between the folds but never into your vagina. He spreads your wetness all over your folds, as if it wasn’t there already, but then he huffs and you hear a slight ripping.

���What was that?” you ask, turning to him.

“Stupid fucking lines are in my way.”

“Lines? My fishnets? You did not just rip my tights, you fucking douche.”

“So what if I did?” he asks, stroking himself with your wet.

“Are you serious? You fucking a-- ohhh, fuck!” You try to insult him again but get cut off by his thick cock skewering you in one swift movement. You’re so wet and ready that he slides straight in, your walls stretching to fit around his girth.

“Fuuuuuck,” he moans, throwing his head back as he bottoms out. “Your bitch pussy is the best shit I’ve ever felt, I swear to god,” he says, grabbing both sides of your hips as he withdraws and then snaps his hips forward again. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Oh, shit, Chuuyaaa,” you whine, voice going high and strained. “You’re so big, what the fuck? What the-- fuuuck,” you moan as he sets a pace, hips snapping forward every second, filling the room with wet fucking sounds and the smack of his heavy balls against your thighs.

“I’ve gotta fuckin’ see you,” he says after only a minute, backing out of you. You grunt and groan, glaring at him over your shoulder until he once again grabs you with that ability of his and moves you around like you weigh nothing. He has you on your side, one leg hanging off the desk, the other hooked over his shoulder, and then he teases your pussy with the head of his cock, dragging it back and forth, up and down your lips, pushing in only near your clit, not near your hole.

“Chuuya, please,” you sigh, reaching down toward where your bodies meet, but he grabs your hand and pins it to the desk. “Please fuck me, don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” he asks cheekily, moving his hips as if thrusting, only letting his cock rub between your pussy lips.

“Don’t tease me,” you pant, trying to squirm your hips. “Put your cock back in me, now.”

“Now?” he asks, playing dumb.

“Now,” you insist. He rubs his tip against your clit.

“What about now?”

“Stop teasing me!”

“You know, that’s no way to ask for a favor,” he says. “Maybe I’ll just walk away. Then what would you do? Fuck yourself on your fingers?”

“I’ll find Akutagwa,” you huff, trying to loosen your hand from his grasp. He barks out a laugh, whole body shaking for a moment.

“Akutagawa?! He wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy like this, babe,” he smirks, finally moving his tip back toward your hole. “You really don’t think he could fuck you like I can, right?”

“What if I do?” You try to keep sounding tough, but the brat is being teased out of you, and you really, really want to be fucked dumb on his cock right now. “Maybe-- ahhh--” Chuuya enters you slowly, smirking down at you and the way your eyes roll back before fluttering closed. 

“Maybe what?” Chuuya asks, bottoming out.

“Maybe-- Akutagawa--” you stutter as Chuuya pulls back and snaps his hips forward again, spearing your g-spot as if he was locked on target.

“Akutagawa?” he asks, trying to lead you on as he slowly builds his pace. You try to babble something out, but as he starts properly fucking you, leaning over you and holding your leg up so he can press you into the desk, you just can’t think of anything except for Chuuya.

“Chuuya-- Chuuya-- Oh, fuck, right there-- Ohh, Chuuya!”

The sound alone is enough to make someone blush, your wet pussy gushing around him every time he goes balls deep, his body pressing against yours, getting wet and precum and sweat all over each other's crotches. You both get lost in it, moaning and swearing and giving stupid empath threats to each other.

“You better make me cum,” you say to him, and he responds “You better stop being such a bitch when I make this pussy squirt.”

He starts palming your tits again when he gets close, panting and fucking you as quickly as he can.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. You sure I can bust inside?” he manages to ask through his panting.

“Yes,” you moan, “oh fuck yeah. Cum in this pussy, daddy.”

“Daddy?!” he asks, and that’s what does it. You caught him so off guard that his whole body jerks and he hunches over you, cumming a big, hot load into your cunt. His face is burning red, and some sweat drips down his forehead. His eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth dropped open, a tiny bit of drool about to sneak out the corner of his mouth. “Fucking bitch,” he says, but it’s so high pitched and tense that it makes you laugh. Your pussy involuntarily contracts when you laugh, and your whole body slightly jiggles under him, and it makes him yelp and moan again, long and drawn out. “God damn,” he whines, pulling back as if he’s going to back out now.

“Hey, hey, hey,” you say, trying to stop him by the leg that’s thrown over his shoulder. “You didn’t make me cum yet. You’re not done here, Chuuya.”

“I’m not but my dick is,” he says, still kind of whiny. “I think you just sucked me dry, I really fucking think you did.” You can’t help but to laugh a little more as he lowers your leg and rolls you onto your back. “It’s only polite--” he says, dropping to his knees “--that I return the favor.” In a flash his tongue is on your pussy, lapping up his cum as it spills out of you. He swallows it without comment, and keeps lapping at your pussy, dipping his tongue into your hole while it’s still nice and open from his cock. You run your hand through his hair again, making sure he can’t pull back too far. You want his whole face in your cunt and you aren’t letting up on this. 

His fingers join his mouth, taking over for his tongue in prodding at your hole. They slip inside, twisting together at the same time as they pull in and out. He teases your g-spot every time this way, and the side of his fingers on your sensitive walls feels so so good. You start moaning his name when his tongue swirls around your clit, working relentless circles on it. He intersperses little sucks on it, and once he even dips his nose down and uses it to rub your clit since it’s a bit firmer than his tongue. He eats you out like an absolute fucking champ, shaking his head and blowing out to give you slight vibrating sensations, suckling to give you quick peaks of stimulation, and flicking his tongue back and forth and rolling it in circles to build your orgasm up higher and higher and higher until finally.

“Oh god, Chuuya-- I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-- oohhhh Chuuya!!” Your back arches up, your fists close tightly in his hair, and you force his face into your pussy as you cum on his mouth and his fingers, rolling your hips to meet his touches. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, just keeps letting you use him as your orgasm rolls and rolls and finally starts to patter out. Only when you let go of his hair does he sit upright, pull his fingers out of you, and suck your cum off of his fingers.

“You’re a lot of fun, you know that?” he asks, standing up, stretching his somewhat sore muscles.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you sigh happily. Your whole body feels weightless and blissful and you aren’t ready to get up yet, even as Chuuya starts getting dressed.

“You dress like this often?”

“Every day off,” you say, finally having enough energy to at least pull your tube top back up to cover your breasts.

“Good. You should come see me again then.”

“You came to see me. And yes, you should come see me again.” You sit up, tilting your head and smiling mischievously at him.

“Guess I didn’t fuck the brat out of you yet,” he mumbles, reaching up to grab your jaw in his hand. “Next time then.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

[salaciousdoll]

Giving erwin head seems like a dream to you especially while he watches your sextape featuring the men of your dreams

· · " Says It Feels Like Heaven To Him" · ·

･˳ . ⋆ Featuring Professor! Erwin Smith with Guest Appearances of Levi Ackerman, Miche(Mike)Zacharias, Nile Dok ( even threw in a little Zeke and Eren Kruger for a second) x Fem! T.A. Reader･˳ . ⋆

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings: Smut, fivesome( just in the video), Apple Vision hasn’t come out yet so work with me here on the little research I did, Erwin is rich, double penetration in both and one hole, fucked dumb, deep throating, oral ( m receiving while watch the video on the Vision Pro), aot au/ modern au, sloppy top for Erwin cause he deserves it, I think this has plot, idk, spit roasting, pet names, big praise kink, some degradation here and there, I may make another one with Zeke and eren Kruger( don’t know yet, throat bulge, big and heavy cock Erwin, tears( dacryphillia), Levi being a mean and nice Dom, black reader in mind but anyone can read, Dom Erwin, chubby reader, may be considered dc, first time writing for him so he may be ooc, overall nasty nasty stuff

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Word Count: 3.7k

18+, Minors do not interact

Credit for art in header

Psa: the italics is the video playing on the Apple vision pro headset

With the void, black space and sparkling little dots in the sky, you traveled home in your car listening to the radio play hits of the month. Tonight was heavenly for you, you loved hot summer nights ever since you were a kid, don’t even get you started on spring or fall nights. Summer nights were filled with people walking on the sidewalks talking with their friends, relatives, and partners. They were filled with loud music blaring from bars, clubs, and people sitting in their cars.

As you drove to your professor's house as his T.A., You passed lots of entertainment and that made you smile so much. You couldn’t wait to collect the test answers so you could grade your students' tests. You wanted to be able to enjoy this adolescent night. You were planning to go to a restaurant that stays open until 4 am with your friends since they needed to catch up with you. All you need is the test answers and then you’re set, probably should be finished by 12:30 am. Your friends should be coming out of the club by 2:30 am, so you’ll even have time to shower and get ready. You all decided to pull an all-nighter because you missed the days when you used to do it.

You passed a few big houses before you made it to his large house, the house always brings up memories you held deep inside of your memory. Memories that you shared with 4 other men including Erwin Smith. You stopped your car and got out after turning the headlights off. Your keys jiggled and moved as you walked up to his door proudly with a small smile on your face. Once you made it to the double entry wrought iron doors that stood taller than you. You have no idea how he could afford this but you had a guess in mind since he wears a lot of expensive tailored suits to work.

You pushed the doorbell, rocking back and forth to calm your nerves of being here again. You haven’t been here in a month, couldn’t face them outside of work. You were glad you only got to see Erwin instead of Levi, Who was in the same department as Erwin but had a different subject— which was Writing while Erwin had History. Miche was in the art department while Nile was in the science department with Hange. Hange, a person you wished you could’ve had there as well since you’ve always eyed them.

You rang it again before deciding to knock on the door when you didn’t hear an answer. You moved to the side and peaked through the glass to see if you saw anyone and you didn’t. So you stood there for a minute until you decided to just go in. You twisted the doorknob and it opened, it was almost like someone left it open for you. Erwin definitely did because he always used to say let him know when you’re on your way and you did, only two hours ago. You shrugged your shoulders and walked inside— closing the door softly, avoiding the slam the door always did when you used to come here freely.

You walked to the entrance of his living room and heard his groans loud and clear. He was too occupied in pleasuring himself out in the open to even realize the door bell had rang. He had on the new Apple vision pro vr headset and the noise coming from them was so lewd that you were speechless. You could hear it from where you were standing, so you slowly put your purse/bag on the table an arm length next to you and slowly walked to him.

Once you got closer to Erwin, you heard the slick noises of him stroking his dick up and down with , from the smell of it, strawberry lube you brought over here from the last time you were here. He kept it with him and you wanted to know why, soon you will find out. Just as you were about to speak, you heard your voice speak from the headset in a needy tone.

“ Fu-ah-ck~!! I can’t take it anymore Miche, please please please.” Your moans were so pretty and you almost wanted to pat yourself on the back from how pornographic they sound. You slowly walked around the couch and stood on the edge of it looking directly at Erwin.

“ shit! Welcome, Miss { reader’s last name}. Your…”. Erwin was stuck when his dick pumped in excitement in his hand. You didn’t know if the excitement was from the video, the adrenaline of being caught, or from your stare on him. His body was sweaty and you could tell he’s been at this for a minute now because of the smell of strawberry and cum around him. The saltine air was doing something to your senses and it went straight to your now tingling pussy.

“ Is this how you greet all your past T.A.’s, Mr.Smith. If so I’ll begin to think of you as a horny pervert. Wouldn’t want that now would cha’?”. Your whispering was getting to him as you now noticed he paused the video with his finger pressing into the air. “ How can you even see out of those? Hmm, wanna give me an explanation as to how that is and what I just walked in on.” Your voice was so alluring to him, it didn’t matter if you had a gruff velvet tone or soft tone, he loved hearing your voice.

Erwin showed you his small smile as he began to talk again after searching for his voice for about 5 seconds, “ I would gladly explain this futuristic device to you later, miss { readers last name} but I’m a little preoccupied with trying it out right now. If you’re looking for the test answers, they’re in my office down the hall. Specifically on the desk.” He then lifted the device off his eyes, setting it on top of his blonde, unruly hair. Sweat built upon his forehead as the lines from the device formed on his red face making him, surprisingly, look very enticing to you.

You looked back at the hall he pointed to prior to looking back at him with low eyes, “ They’ll have to wait for now. After all, we have a three day weekend starting tonight, so why don’t I show my appreciation to Professor Smith. Put back on that VR set, sir. Want you to focus on that video and that video only.”

He almost let out a low groan at the pet name he so desperately loved, especially when you called him that. School or not, he’s always gonna feel something when you call him that. You slowly took off your top as he slid the car set back on his face. After your top came off, your bra followed— gently falling to the floor. You walked up to Erwin and slowly got on your knees in front of him. His cocked open legs were so thick and muscled, you were planning on riding them sometime in your life, maybe tonight. Who knows. You trailed your acrylic nails up his thighs— dragging them close to his trimmed pubic hairs. You watched as he bit back a moan and as his dick jumped against his lower stomach. The red angry tip was having a stare off with you and you were winning because of his twitching.

Your knees hurt on the carpet but you were gonna ignore it for now. You wanted his cock in your mouth and you were gonna get him in your mouth. You tried to enclose your right hand on his dick, but it didn’t fit around the entirety of his cock. Thick fingers trying so hard to wrap around his thick abnormal dick, you then pressed his tip on your lips giving him a little peck prior to rubbing his wet tip across the lower half of your face. You wanted this to be messy and you were gonna get it even if he was caught by surprise when you did that.

Erwin was bigger than Levi and close in length to miche whilst being close to Nile in girth. You could tell he started the video over because you heard your whimpers which meant you were being teased by Levi.

“ How long have you dreamed of this, little girl? I’m sure you even day dreamed about being used like a little slut by us. Such a shame really. Such a pretty little shame.”, Levi says on the video. Erwin watched on the big screen he had on his Vr set. He was so glad he got this VR set because he could watch this video in 3d with a fake background of the ocean.

He watched your eyes look up in a squint as you looked at Levi, “ I’m not a little girl. So don’t call me- hnngn.” Two fingers were placed inside of your pussy by Levi who looked at you with low sharp eyes, “ what was that? Couldn’t hear you over you being a slut for my fingers.” The camera panned to Miche, Nile, And Erwin before he set the camera up on the tall night stand in his room.

Erwin moved next to you to plant his kiss on your buttercream scent lips as Miche whistled at Levi words, “ Come on, Levi. You gotta give the girl credit for seducing each one of us with those pretty brown eyes of hers. Eyes that told stories without talking, we’re now experiencing another story of hers.” Leave it to Miche Zacharias to bring his perception into this, reasons why he’s an art teacher.

You, on the other hand, took the tip of his cock in your mouth causing him to let out a low moan. The way your lips instantly lock on his dick should be awarded. The sucking sounds from you was enough to cause him to put down the VR, but he’ll never be able to get to his favorite part if he does.

Erwin's body shuddered when he heard your pleas in the video and felt your lips swallow more of his dick in your wet, hot mouth. You almost vomited on his dick, but you controlled your breathing and throat to take him in completely. Both of your hands were now on the lower part of his cock as spit slowly glided down his dick and onto your hands. Erwin held your head in one of his hands as he tried so hard to keep his eyes on the screen like you said.

The convulsing of your throat was enough to make him want to snap his hips up, but he resisted and let you take control, just this once.

“ Ummph, your dick is stretching me, Nile. Pl-”, you moaned as he slid inside of your wet pussy with the help of miche holding your legs open from underneath you. Levi let a small smirk display in his face in the video. Erwin just now noticed that little smirk and he was so gonna tease Levi for it later but right now your moans plus your lips wrapped around his cock was the only thing on his mind.

“ Ease up a little, Nile and Mike. Don’t want my little TA to call off work just because we broke her.”, Erwin said as he played with your pretty nipples in a clockwise motion making you squirm even more. Levi stroked himself on the side of you while sucking on your neck. Nile was too busy trying not to cum because of the way you were squeezing around his dick, “ Looks like she needs to ease up on me before my dick breaks. She’s fucking tight. So please, sweetheart. Ease up for me, will ya’ ?” Nile held your face in between his hands— looking directly in your eyes.

You couldn’t even think straight because of the fullness you were feeling in both holes. They complimented each other all too well, but you got pulled out of your daze when you felt a kiss on your mouth from a different man. The man in front of you, Nile. His kiss was ruff but a little passionate which suddenly made you loosen up around his dick causing him to move back and forth with ease. Miche groan loudly when you convulsed your other hole around his long cock, “ Fuck, pretty girl. You’re treating my dick so well.” His deep baritone voice sent shivers down your horny spine and you couldn’t do anything but moan, loudly too.

Levi rolled his eyes when he heard you repeating curse words with a whine laced in your whimpers, “ Erwin shut her up before I do it.” He was such a mean Dom and you loved it. Nile and Miche shared a choked moan and groan because you tightened around them at the same time when you heard what he said. Erwin chuckled and turned your head to his standing cock, “ Come on, my princess. Don’t wanna upset him any further now, do we?” His tone was chilling, almost like a threat and you loved it. Erwin took his cock in his hand and tapped your plump lips, “ Open up wide for me, darling. Want you to open up nice and wide for me.” You looked up at him through your lashes as your body thrashed up and down due to Nile and Mike’s movements. They were so in sync with each other as you parted your lips as you could go. Next sounds that were heard were your slurpy moans and the moans of all the men around you as you pleasured them.

Levi was in love with the way you twisted your hand around his cock, “ such a pretty view to see you filled up in all of your holes. Shit! Your fucking hands are working me so perfectly. Being such a good girl right now, baby. Keep it up for me, got that?” Your moans on Erwin’s dick told everyone everything they needed to know. You were gonna be a good girl for them after all.

Erwin couldn’t handle the way your head bobbed up and down on his cock with ease now. Your throat warmed up to him and he couldn’t be more proud of you. You were struggling to take him in the video but now here— it’s like you were a new person or spirit. He loved every second of it, paying attention to the dick sucking sounds you made as you devoured him. “ Mmm” and “ hmm” were heard all around his living room. Teary eyes was something he saw after rolling his eyes to the back of his head in pure lightness. He looked down at you slurping his cock up like you were drinking out a small straw with a thick ass milkshake.

Erwin reached to the top of your head, setting a shaky palm just over your hairstyle, “ May I?” You bobbed your head up and down to answer his question and he sequenced after moving whatever hairstyle you had in your hair out from your eyes, so you can really see. One of the small things you noticed about Erwin compared to the others is that he knows the boundaries and doesn’t over step them without thinking about it. Bare minimum? Yes.

He tasted so good in your mouth, salt with a small hint of used cum. You couldn’t describe it exactly but you knew his dick had just the right flavor to openly want to suck his dick up the way you’re doing it right now. Hollowing your cheeks caused him to spring up and try to knock his knees together but you scratched at his stomach letting him know to sit down and take it like he told you plenty of time on his desk, bed, etc. “ Ah, Ah, swee-sweetheart, I’m going to cum soon if you keep doing - oahh- that.” Erwin was never this vocal before and he needed to start being this vocal because now one of your hands dropped from his dick— moving down to your undergarment. You rubbed yourself in slow circles feeling the wetness spreading on your fingers like it was honey.

You removed your other hand and dropped that one to his balls to play with them in a soothing but pleasuring way. Your moans were getting louder on the screen and off the screen. It wasn’t just only your moans though, Erwin’s moans were off screen. He was enjoying himself too much and honestly he didn’t care. He was mouth drunk in a sense. Could wait for it to end no matter what. He didn’t want this memory to end at all. Miche was right, you were a part of the memories he had to reminisce about when he gets older and wither away like all older people do.

The sounds of gagging were heard when your mouth moved further down his cock up until the little blonde hair on his pelvis. Your moans from playing with yourself were stuffed so good with his cock deep down your throat. “ fuck! Sweet girl, your mouth and hands feel so good. So. Damn. Amazing. Keep going for me, my sweet doll.”

The video now showed you now taking him and Levi inside of your pussy together. Your screams of pleasure were one for Erwin’s history books. “ Fuck, she’s fucking swallowing my dick right now. Erwin you choose the right one to be your damn T.A.” Erwin chuckled as he focused on holding your thighs— you were in the cowgirl position on top of him.

“ You should see her face taking both of us right now, Levi. So damn beautiful.” Erwin kissed your neck wrapping both of his arms around you— Levi wrapped his arms around your arms pulling your upper body up a little bit, “ beautiful huh? Maybe Mike or Nile could take a picture and send it to Eren Kruger and Zeke, let them know what they’re missing.” Tears fell down your eyelashes as they battered their dicks inside of you with soft little kisses from Erwin to comfort you even more than you already felt.

Miche chuckled with his head tilted back before getting up to come hold your chubby face in between his big hands, “ such a beauty indeed. Even more beautiful with a fucked out expression on your face. Such a pity they couldn’t come, huh.” Nile came up beside him, both with their dick standing on full hard, “ I’ll take the picture only for me, then two don’t deserve to see this masterpiece of a woman, isn’t that right my little bunny?” Just then Erwin snapped his hips up as Levi followed after, both spilling inside of you as your mouth fell into a silent O as you came on their cocks— That silent O soon got filled with a thick tip of Mike’s dick.

“ God, I wish you could see how pretty you look right now. Gonna- mmph.” Erwin groans turned into moans when you let out a little moan against the sensitive part on his dick, his veins. The video stopped and you notice he snatched off his Apple Vision Pro headset and grabbed your head to make you engulf all of his dick without any room to breathe. Erwin grabbed your throat to feel his bulge against it and nothing could ever satisfy him the way your throat bulge did. You stayed where you were until you felt thick salty fluid in your mouth. You had no choice but to swallow all of his cum inside of your gagging mouth. Small Snot flowing down your nose with Spit and the rest of his cum you couldn’t swallow flowed down this dick to his ass. “ Holy shit! Fuck, m gonna cum in that pretty little mouth, don’t run. Don’t run. Breathe through your nose for me….” And you did to which he responded with a lazy smile after he came down from his high, “ good girl. Such a good little slut for me.”

He let you go when you tapped his thigh and you automatically lifted your throat off his cock, coughing a little prior to a small smile displaying on your face, “ Next time, could you do that during the intercourse. I liked it, especially if it’s from you.” Erwin body slumped against the back of his couch as he peered down at you with low blue eyes, “ You’re so pretty. I need you to say it back to me, pretty girl.” You didn’t know where the serge of affirmation came from, but you were living for it as you looked at him like he was the only man in the world. Little did you know, you were always the only woman in his world.

“ I’m pretty— your pretty girl.” Your voice was so low and he knew it was because of his dick. Erwin pulled you up by your hands, kissing them. He then pulled you down on top of him and kissed you on the mouth, “ Yes, my pretty little butterfly. Thank you for giving me the best I ever had …. Now about those test answers?” He lifted up his eyebrow at you. Somehow, you had forgotten about them because your jaw hurt. You’ll have to grade tomorrow and make sure the girls make it back safely. You’ll have to reschedule everything all because of Mr.eyebrows with the big dick chuckling at you waving your hand whilst laying on his chest.

Tagging: @shunsuist @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @emomanswhore @honeybleed @angelshub

[deadpool15]

Sugarbaby vibes ✨️

I walked out of the fitting room wearing the shit Chanel set. Let's be honest I looked to fucking die for, but once I saw the price it looked mid. Of course I wanted it and speaking of price it's Chanel what did I expect. If anything I suggested, let's go thrifting, as you can tell I didn't grow up with money. I'm still trying to get used to living this life now, it's crazy hoe just last week I was struggling to afford a pack of fucking Ramen at the convenience store and now I live in a penthouse. Your girl did, in fact, come up in life. You all better be proud. All thanks to the one and only Bada Lee.

Bada is about 28, and I'm 22, so there is a slight age gap if you care about any of that. Shit I didn't. I just needed someone to pay my bills. How we met it quite an interesting story if you think about it, I mean, I didn't sign up for a sugar mama like on the weird ass movies or stories you see on Wattpad. I was, in fact, working as a waiter in this high-end restaurant with might I add a shitty pay. Why are we serving all this expensive ass shit and in only getting made a few bucks in an hour? It's giving slavery, and not mentions my boss who, like most men, convince himself within the 3 minutes of hiring me that I was destined to be his furtre wife and the mother of his children as he call it. If you wanted to know what crazy looks like, we'll Mr. Kim is a prime example.

But we are getting of topic. See, I don't wanna tell you about my overly obsessive ass boss. I wanna tell you about the women who turned my life around. Serving tables is absolute shit, especially when no matter how rich one is, they never tip. "Hey Blue, bossman says he needs you at table six." I turned around to my partner in crime, Leslie. I'm happy to see her until I realized what she said, "I'm on break, though, like all these people around here . Can't he bother someone else." She gave me a sad smile and shrugged, "no, you know he likes to watch you suffer, because he expects after a while you will give in and let him take you out on a date." I stare at her with disgust.

"Yea, never mind your you're right. I'll take my chances with the wolves again. I'm just get going. If he asks again, make sure to tell him I chose getting screamed and yelled at my rich elderly woman over acknowledging his existence. " I hurried and jog off before she could say anything, grabbing my notepad and pen out of my pocket I had towards table six. With the biggest fake smile on. The love I have for these customers is crazy.

I stand there saying my usual line in the most chipper voice one can muster, whiteout even looking at the person sitting down in front of me. "Hello, ladies and gentlemen. I'm blue and very happy to serve you tonight. So what can I get, you folks?" I hear someone speak before muttering something about how I'm pretty, then I finally gather the courage to look up and see a group of women. All dressed to perfection, clothes tailored just to fit their figure. Those majority of them look around my age or slightly older. After a moment of being caught in a daze while overanlyzing them, I turn to her the tallest one of the bun speak up. "I would like to have a water to drink and just some shrimp pasta."

I make eye contact with her and my God. This is the most beautiful creature I've ever seen in my life. It almost feels like i should have to pay a fee to look upon her face. My stare moves down to her lips and not e how nice and pump they are. I would kill to suck on those lips, to feel what they tasted like even. I realize I've just been staring at her while the rest of the women have spoken uo about their order already. "Oo, I'm s-so sorry." I state being an absolute nervous wreck while looking down at my notepad. I hope she didn't notice that. "It's fine, sweetheart," I heard the girl that was referred to ad Lusher somewhere in the conversation state to me. I hurry up and excuse myself to go get their orders. She keeps staring at me, bitting the inner part of her check. Eventually, they leave after a while, leaving a $200 tip for me. I almost couldn't believe it. This I'd the first time someone has ever given me that much money as a tip.

After a while, the girl continues to come to our little restaurant. Same table, same confidence aura and everything. She makes it seem as if she is trying to just get something to eat. We continue to see each other even after work. She would pop in on my breaks, and around the time, I would clock out. She was intimidating. I'll get her that. I spoke with class, and her vibe just let you know she had money. And it seemed she had her eyes on a certain girl. Me. Though, after beating around the bush, Bada told me exactly what she wanted. "I want to take care of you. You'll never have to worry about a single thing when you're with me. Or lift a finger. Give you the life you deserve, baby. I mean, you are a cute little waitress, but you can be so much more. Why waste your time when you have me. Just say the words, and I'll take care of you."

Some might've immediately said yes, and to be honest, I would've to. Until Bada told me there were rules. Which did kinda throw me off a bit. I mean, I thought I had the whole idea down until well, I realized I didn't. It wasn't just about the money it was the pleasure. How much would she give me, and fuck did she give me a lot. Well lived by only a few rules, but Bada took them very seriously.

Rule 1: Don't question anything

Rule 2: Don't talk back

Rule 3: Don't touch yourself

You should've seen the look on my face when I heard the third rule, I mean, at the bright age of 22, who the hell doesn't masturbate. Literally made no sense to me until she tried to explain it further. "I give you pleasure. I'm the only one who should be touching you. I'm general baby. You belong entirely to me. That's how this works. Therefore, you shouldn't be doing anything without my permission cupcake." After finally going over the terms, I agreed in the end. At the end of the day, I was a broke college student who desperately needed the money, and Bada just so happens to be the sexy older one willing to give it to me. In a sense, I was happy with my current predicament. My life was going well. Now, back to what I was saying earlier.

I stared at myself in the mirror. Sometimes, I forget that I can look this good. "Yea, ayye, get it, girl." In the process of hyping myself up, I finally hear a voice speak up from behind me, scaring the absolute shit out of me. "I'm glad you like it, baby. It does look good on you, I told you I have an eye for beautiful things. I mean, just look at my baby girl." She says while holding on to my waist, kissing my neck slowly. I smile for a while until I realize what she is doing. "Baby, we are in public, a fitting room at that. We aren't doing that here," I say, trying to be firm while avoiding her glaze in the mirror.

"What did I tell you about saying no to me, huh? Do you make the rules?" She forcefully grabbed my chin when she caught on to the act. She grabs my breast while still making eye contact with me in the mirror. "That's right, just stand right here, ok? Gonna be my good girl, right?" I stare at the door, thinking about the people outside that will hear us. While I'm thinking about them, Bada moved the hand that was holding me under my top, slowly circling my right nipple. "Gonna be good, right?" She asks again,she never has enough patience to ask again. It seems she is being nice today. I nod my head at her question this time.

"Word babygirl, I need to hear you. Let them hear you. Just stop all that thinking for me." I whimper at her words. Finally, forgetting about the staff in the store. She moves her hand down my body, teasing me with her pace. "P-please, I'll be g-good. Gonna be so good for you." She smirks, looking down at my face before moving her hand towards my soaked pussy. "Always so f-fucking good for me, aren't you? My precious little baby. Just needs to be filled, like always." I look into her eyes in the mirror about to answer her before she insert a finger into me, all while still playing with my breasts. She knows my body like the back of her hand. Doesn't even have to try to find the spot.

"Yea, right there, come on. I can't hear you, baby girl." I know exactly the game she is playing at, but I can only stand there moaning like a bitch in heat being held on my weak jelly-like legs as she adds two more fingers. While she grinds her hips into me, fuck those bloody dancers and there hips. "Y-yes y-yes... shit o fuck right there". She just smiles at my reactions. Assuming to her if anything. "Were gonna buy this little outfit, then I'm gonna by 28 fucking more just to fuck the shit out of you in them. And you gonna let me, aren't you?. Gonna take it like a good girl who just needs her holes filled, right?" I shake my head, screaming yes over and over again while nodding profusely. Seems that's the only word my brain can come up with as she starts to suck down on my neck leaving marks while circling my clit with her thumbs. And she still continues to thrust those same three fingers in and out of me ob command.

"Fucked you dumb, aww that's adorable baby. But we just started, " She says while smirking, and I stare at her in a mix of fear and pleasure. "Now open those legs wider for me, baby girl."

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #27] Keeping Quiet

warnings: angst, hayun, cu ajummas, astrology, drinking, enter stage left: park seojoon !!, danbi putting jaykay in his place!!, a shag :( but sad :( nothing quite like yearning for someone who is quite literally inside you!!, unprotected sex, 'byeol baby', 'koo' (waaaa), honestly just big pouty vibes all round!!

wc: 18k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Oh, it's hopeless ," Hayun pouts with a playful whine as she heads down the stairs of an inner-city apartment block. Files in hand detailing all the relevant listings within her budget, it's the third property she and Jeongguk have walked away from that morning. "Has the rental market here seriously gone downhill that badly?"

He nods, sucking a little air between his teeth. "You gotta widen your search. You're looking at, like, the most expensive types of apartment in the most expensive part of town."

'Expensive' has always been Hayun's taste. There's nothing wrong with wanting the finer things in life, especially not if you work hard for it, but she's only been able to pick up part-time work as a seamstress since she's been back. 

It's exactly the same sort of work she had been doing up in Seoul - but working in a tailors just off of Apgujeong-ro in Gangnam is a far cry from the little shop on the outskirts of her old city. It's not a bad location - is near the KTX station, so gets a lot of traffic from businessmen, but not enough to afford what she really wants.

She sighs, knowing he's right, as he holds the door open for her. Winter air blusters around her dark hair, worn loose, catching a little in her glossy lips. Hooking the hairs away with her ruby red nails, she seems disheartened.

"You and Jimin manage it," she says, as if the financials are comparable.

"Yeah, but I'd never be able to afford that place on my own - and even so, I can only manage it 'cause he was willing to go 60-40 with me until I finish school," he adds, taking the files from her so she can put her hands in her coat pockets. It's bloody freezing.

Humming a little, Hayun nudges into his arm. "Why don't we become roomies? 60-20-20. A great deal all round."

Jeongguk sort of hates the way it feels like a small flame is flickering in the pit of his stomach when she says that. It's mild. Subdued. Doesn't have any fuel behind it. Not like it once would have done.

Still, he smiles.

"We do have a really comfy sofa," he says, playful in the distance he's creating. Knows she was insinuating something else, and knows that his bedroom is not a Hayun-friendly area anymore. The birds he'd once made because of her origami butterflies have a new meaning now; they're important because of someone else. It's your dreams embedded in their wings, not his former mislaid hopes of something flourishing between him and her.

"Great," she replies. "You can sleep there, and I'll take your bed."

"Fuck that," he snorts. "I'm having my bed."

"Well then we'll share," she purrs.

It's a flirt that Jeongguk would have eaten up six months ago; one that makes him feel a little guilty, now.

"Nah," he says, then thinks of you. "I'm no good at sharing."

Just like that, you're in his head again and his is vision blurry from all the fucking glitter that clouds in them whenever it happens. He thinks of the way you'd agreed to sleep in his bed with him after the evening with the ties, and how he'd been hoping you would stay a few nights ago, too. He didn't sleep a wink that night. Didn't revise. Didn't do anything fuckin' useful. Just sat, and stewed, unable to pick himself up off the floor.

He knows he was unkind and that an apology needs to be made, but he's never been good at swallowing his pride. Your disdain for Hayun comes from your own personal experiences, and it was naive of him to assume it was all because of him. Stupidly, he'd thought that you were jealous; that your irritation came from some form of protective nature. The same sort of one he has over you.

Just because he's not good at sharing doesn't mean you suffer from the same affliction. Was foolish of him to think you did.

Mistakes made with Hayun in the past are not to be repeated with you. He knows this. Knows that he can't hold you close in a bid to keep you where he prefers you. You're just like the birds that watch over him at night. You need to be set free.

So that's what he's trying to do.

He doesn't want you to become another bad decision. Knows your friendship is worth more than that. Thinks that maybe a little space to breathe could be good; that perhaps lines need to be redrawn.

"You don't need to tell me that," Hayun laughs as little as they head towards the subway. "Possessive is basically your middle name."

He frowns.

"Protective," he corrects. "Possessive sounds... I don't know. I don't like it."

Looking over at him, Hayun marvels at how much he's grown in the time since she's been away. Immature when she was leaving, Jeongguk couldn't stand to watch her leave. Thought he was being deserted by the person he held closest. For months leading up to her move, she felt like she was constantly being dragged in two directions - between the man she loved, and the boy who loved her. As hard as it was for Jeongguk, it wasn't exactly easy for her either.

"Well, we're talking about your bed, Buddy. Your possession . I think possessive is perfectly apt - unless you're protective over it, too?" She teases. "Is it not empty these days?"

Of all the conversations Jeongguk wants to have with Hayun, this is not one of them.

"Let's not talk about my sex life," he laughs a little, not wanting to be awkward in how he brushes off the conversation. She doesn't get the message.

"Why not?" she flirts. "We used to talk about it all the time."

"Yeah, 'cause you used to be my sex life, Hayun," he laughs again but it feels so sickly sweet that he might be sick. "You know I've never been one to kiss and tell."

"Boring," she sighs, nudging into him slightly as they walk along.

"Well you tell me about yours then," he jokes back, knowing that sex isn't a topic for the pair of them to share anymore.

"Oh, I'm basically a born-again-virgin," she sighs. "The break up was a long time coming. As soon as I stopped being attracted to him, well, yanno. Stopped sleeping with him. Haven't been laid in months. Pretty sure I wouldn't even know how to have sex anymore."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"Well," she considers. "We're both single for the first time in forever..."

"Don't."

"What? I'm just saying."

"Well, don't," he smiles, to mask the awkwardness of a feeling he doesn't understand. "It's dangerous. Us hooking was like... catastrophic."

"You ever think about it, still?"

"Hayun," he whines. "Please."

"I do."

"You shouldn't."

"I know you do, too."

He shakes his head.

"I remember your last drunk voice note, Gguk."

She says 'the last' because it used to be a common occurrence. Something to look forward to every month or so; admittance that Jeongguk still found the idea of sleeping with someone new impossible. Drunken mumbles of how he couldn't ever work out if girls were flirting with him or not, and how it didn't matter 'cause he was thinking about her anyways.

Hayun used to listen to them and feel a blush blossom all over her entire being. Used to see a notification from Jeongguk at arse-o'clock in the morning, and knew it would be confirmation that she was still adored - and doesn't everyone want to be felt about so fondly?

She'd never directly respond to the messages. Would just tell him to take some medicine for his hangover. Knew that acknowledging his tipsy tongue would likely cause issues. After all, she did still have a boyfriend who never knew of her past with Jeongguk.

Her boyfriend had thought Jeongguk was just a kid with a crush. Didn't realise how Hayun had taken his heart and crushed that instead.

"That was like, nine months ago," Jeongguk cringes. Only remembers the timing of it, 'cause it was Yoongi's birthday celebrations. Had watched on as Seoyeon adoringly made a speech about her other half, and had wished Hayun could have been there. Wondered if her eyes would have flicked to Jeongguk, just like he knows he would have glanced at hers.

The next time he got drunk, you were there to keep his brain busy.

And so he didn't call. Didn't text. Didn't do anything.

"So?" She laughs at his embarrassment. "You don't just wake up one day and stop feeling that way."

"Maybe I did," he says, knowing that he absolutely did not.

Though if he were to think about it properly, he'd realise that no, he didn't wake up one day feeling differently. Instead, slowly, gradually, day by day, his feelings have changed - but just like the seasons, he doesn't notice. Likely won't until another feeling is impossible to deny.

"And maybe you're a big fat liar."

"Well, did you ever think about me?" He asks a little flippantly, not expecting an answer. "When you were with your ex? Did you think about me?"

He anticipates a 'shut up' or a 'none of your business'; a coy smile that could mean nothing but everything all at once.

Hayun was previously a girl of subtleties, but she's been confronted with the idea that maybe Jeongguk prefers girls who are anything but - the Jiyeongs of the world. Bold. Confident. Or perhaps even worse: the attention-seeking glitter-coated girls. Never been her style - but she's never really been one to lose before. She isn't about to do it now.

"Sometimes," she smirks. Knows that such a response will probably drive Jeongguk insane.

It's not that she wants to cause him distress. Quite the opposite. She wants him to find comfort in her again. Wants what she let go of once before. Wants him to want her. Wants to belong somewhere; foolishly, she always thought she'd have a home in his heart.

And even though it's been derelict for nearly two years, it is still there. It sits abandoned, overgrown and the lock is rusted. The key doesn't work anymore. Maybe if she tries hard enough, though, she'll ease it open.

Her answer plays out in Jeongguk's head even after he changes the topic.

Sometimes.

Every now and again it comes to the forefront of his mind. How often?

She had a boyfriend. Was I better?

Moved cities for him. Was I hard to let go?

Why on earth would she still think about fucking Jeongguk? Am I the reason it ended?

The questions echoing in the space where sensible thoughts should be go unanswered.

He's walking Hayun to work. She's on the late shift. Wonders if he should offer to meet her after work.

For reasons he can't explain, he doesn't want to. It has nothing to do with the fact he's getting closer and closer to your neighbourhood. He absolutely isn't thinking about you, and worrying about seeing you, or the look on your face if you were to see him with Hayun.

Funny. He used to care about her seeing him with you. Worries about the opposite, now.

Even funnier?

How desperately you're trying to pretend like you're not jealous of Hayun's place in his heart, no matter how dilapidated the ruins of it may be.

"Oh, and another thing!" You enthuse, sitting once more outside CU, the gaggle of girlies - Minsu, Jinnae and Junghee - listening with great intent as you divulge more about the Hayun situation. "So then, she started saying how she wouldn't like another girl being so close with her boyfriend - but I set Jeongguk up with Jiyeong! I was hardly trying to break them up!"

"She's got a classic case of the green-eyed monster," Jinnae assures you, as she sips on a hot coffee from the convenience store. They're back to spy on Eunyeon's ex-husband's new squeeze, but are finding your unfathomably attractive bartender issues far more interesting.

"Mmm," Minsu agrees. "Show us what he looks like again?"

When you do, they all coo. "Oh, isn't he handsome?"

"I know he's pretty," you whine - it's like you're going round in circles. "But I'm still annoyed with him."

"He's a bit too much of a bad boy for me," Junghee sighs. She's not a tattoo lover, but has admitted that Jeongguk's got a 'lovely little face'. Of an older generation, it's no surprise that she isn't a fan of the body art, but you don't pay too much notice. Nodding across the street, she whispers. "Like him. Charming face but the tattoos all over his hand? A shame."

Looking over towards her gaze, you half think that maybe there'll be a new boy in the area to take your mind off Jeongguk.

"Isn't that..." Jinnae gasps.

Fuck.

"Yep," you wince, taking in the sight of Jeongguk strolling down the road with Hayun.

Unmistakable is Jeon Jeongguk, even without his signature smile. He's listening to whatever Hayun is saying - and does eventually crack a grin when she starts laughing, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Dressed down in baggy pants and an even baggier shirt, a thick puffer jacket hides the Jeongguk you know so well. You like it when he's cosy and comfortable, but it does sort of make you a little bit smug that he's not outwardly trying to make a big impression with his outfit choice.

But then again, this is Jeongguk you're talking about. He's still got that face. Still got that hair. Still got those hands peeking out from his sleeves, and still has those contemplative eyes that you've missed over the last few days. He leaves an impression even when he's trying to blend into the shadows.

The first night you met him is case and point; how even in the shrouded haze of a dark bar, he shone. He does it without even needing glitter.

"So that must be Hayun," Minsu assumes correctly. You nod.

She really is beautiful. They're attractive in different ways, Jeongguk is far more your type than she is, but it's not hard to see why someone like him would be interested in someone like her. Dark hair perfectly permed to wave around her features, she's put together well. Lips as red as her nails, you're beginning to learn that this is her trademark; her warning sign.

It also just elevates how different you are. A glitter girlie through and through, you never wear a red lips because you are aware that sometimes there is such thing as too much - and with the amount glitter you're always wearing, you don't wanna overkill it. Red lips had been reserved for Seokjin and Seokjin only - but you hadn't been wearing glitter with him, for the most part. Always knew how much he hated it.

She reminds you of a version of yourself that you don't like very much, and perhaps that's part of your issue. Maybe it is just projection.

But fuck, she was a dickhead. And she did hurt Jeongguk. And she has come back like she never left and she is taking her old place; the one that you had foolishly thought was yours. Sort of feels like you were just keeping her seat warm now.

"Dunno why on earth they're here," you hum. "Jeongguk lives in the middle of the city."

"Oh, he's got money," Junghee enthuses, but you just laugh.

"He doesn't live alone," you explain. "Splits the rent with a friend who does have money."

"Well, why don't you go for his friend instead?" Junghee asks. "If he's just as handsome and rich, what more could you want?"

A good shag.

"Jimin is great," you laugh. "But we're not compatible - and hey! That's not what this is about. Jeongguk and I aren't, like, romantic. We're just friends. I'm just upset because he's, like, replacing me."

Funny, how you and Hayun both have disdain for one another, when you both feel the exact same way.

You watch as they take a corner just a few roads before yours, and wonder where on earth they could be going. You'd message him and ask, if you weren't ignoring the memes he's sent you. He hasn't even sent them to your main chat feed, just forwarded them on instagram, where you've got him muted regardless.

Yes, you're being a little petty, but you're still pissed off.

"Oh, sweetheart," Jinnae sighs. "There's a reason they say boys and girls can never be just friends."

"That's not true," you pout. "We can be."

Giggling amongst themselves, they begin to relay stories of the boys they were friends with, and it's so nice seeing that the fundamentals of human relationships really haven't changed. Boys will always be stupid (and so handsome it's hard to think straight around them).

You're almost able to forget Jeongguk, and the fact he's in your area with Hayung, until fifteen minutes later, when your eyes notice a familiar figure waiting by the traffic lights across the road.

"Crap," you hiss, trying to soften your curse words around the older women you're with.

They all hum in confusion, Minsu being the only one to follow your gaze. "Oh! He's coming over."

"Shit," you curse now, unable to control it - which earns you a tap on your shoulder from Jinnae.

"Language young lady."

"I'm sorry! I just. Ahh! Can I borrow your hat?" you panic, not wanting him to clock you.

Dressed in sweats and a shirt that you know full well belongs to him, you're thankful you've gone for a plain black puffer coat. Far less obvious than one of your faux fur ones, but it also means you stick out like a sore thumb.

Ajummas will do as ajummas do - they're all in burgundy and blue; hues of maroon and splotches of neon scattered in patterns. Floral and a little bit garish, there's nothing subtle about any of their outfits.

You're casual, 'cause you're meeting Danbi for pole in half an hour. It's the first time since Sunday that you'll actually get to spend proper quality time with her and you're looking forward to it so much - your heart has been heavy. You'd only gone to CU for a snack, but the gaggle of gossipers had been there again, spying on Eunyeon's ex-husband again - and so naturally, you've been with them for an hour, now.

Jinnae practically throws her hat at you, and Minsu rummages in her bag for a fan. It's winter, and freezing out - you're only outside because of the industrial strength heaters that are practically boiling you alive outside the convenience store - but it will help block your face. You angle yourself away from the passageway up to the shop and stay silent as Jeongguk approaches. The ajummas also decide now is a great time to be silent, which only draws attention to the table.

You don't watch so have no idea if Jeongguk clocks you or not, but know that once you hear the bell of the door you're safe for a moment.

"Oh my god," you whisper.

"He's tall!" Jinnae says, surprised. "Far taller than I thought he would be."

You whine, knowing full well that Jeongguk is probably the best looking man within a ten mile radius.

"At least he didn't notice you," Minsu says, but that just makes you feel even worse. It's not like he should magically be aware of your presence, but you half thought that maybe some sort of cosmic entity tied you together; would defy the laws of human function and draw him towards you regardless.

You've barely had a chance to breathe by the time he's at the checkout, heading straight back out into the cold of winter - though your cold shoulder is far harsher, he thinks. Much more bitter.

Jeongguk pauses as he leaves the shop. Unwraps his gimbap with nimble fingers, the movements coming naturally to him. Never has to worry about pulling on the wrong tab and the seaweed unravelling in his hands. Is good with his fingers, in all capacities. Is ambivalent as he turns to face your direction.

Looks you dead in the eye. Takes a bite of his gimbap. Furrows his brows, 'cause it's delicious, and swallows it back with a satisfied hum. Lips pursed, he cleans his teeth with his tongue, and nods. Toys with his lip ring a little.

It does the thing .

You wanna whine.

Instead, your eyes are frozen on his, cheeks a little blushed. The rest of the ladies you're with are also staring at him. The silence is masked by the shop music and traffic on the road nearby, horns honking occasionally, until Jeongguk says, "hey, B."

The ajummas you're with don't even wait a second before the launch into their trade.

"Ah! What is it with men always thinking they can harass us?" Jinnae begins to scold, with Minsu joins in almost as quickly.

"You're too young for us! Look elsewhere."

"I swear, young men these days have no manners."

"We know everyone's aunties," Minsu threatens. "We'll tell her you were bothering us."

He holds his hands up - as much as he can, given the fact he's holding onto his gimbap and coke for dear life - and protests.

"I'm not! I'm not!" he promises, panic in his tone, eyes darting around the table at all of the other women - and then he settles on you.

You're not looking at him, now. Your eyes are on your hands, picking at the nail varnish on your fingers.

And he hates it.

In fact, it pisses him off. It's childish . You're both grown ups. Don't need to be giving each other the fucking silent treatment - as if he hasn't been doing that already.

"Was just looking for my friend," he says, his annoyance thinly veiled, but somehow still charming enough to get the ladies quiet for a moment. "Thought I saw her, but apparently she isn't here."

Minsu grimaces, and earns a tap on the arm from Jinnae.

Jeongguk hooks his thumb around his coke, holding it in the same hand as his gimbap, and reaches into his back pocket. Pulls out a small plastic pouch. It's a mystery bag - the kind by the counter with candy and a small toy inside. The Sanrio branding plastered all over it only further confirms this. He tosses it down in front of you. Says nothing.

It's a special edition. A new theme that had been brought in for the new year.

You pout as you look at it, noticing the packaging is covered in disco balls, reminiscent of a New Years Eve party.

All of the characters have been given little party outfits. Are glittery. Whichever character you pull will be byeol-ified from the get go. The Kuromi version is already sitting on Jeongguk's shelf, taking up a place on his chessboard.

He had picked it up on New Year's Day during his Powerade run to the convenience store for you and Jimin. Saw it and thought of you. Let you unwrap it, and watched on with starry eyes as you enthused over the fact you think he is a Kuromi boy. He doesn't really understand what that means, but he did like the way you had imitated his pout when you were trying to explain.

And so when he saw mystery bags by the counter again, he had picked one up. Knew you were outside - though is considerably confused about the ajumma situation - so figured he'd make peace with you.

When you look up, Jeongguk's already walking away.

You part your lips - go to stand, and call after him - but Jinnae puts her hand softly on your arm.

"Let him go," she says. "Just this once. Let him walk away."

"But-"

She shakes her head.

"It's obvious he cares. I won't debate that." Looking down to the sparkly packaging, knowing that it must have been your darling eyes that made him buy it, she smiles. "But walking away? Pretending that he doesn't care? Honey, he's acting like a kid."

"We've all raised boys," Minsu adds. "If you pander to them, they'll keep up with the bad behaviour."

"He's not a toddler," you laugh, strangely comforted by their wisdom.

"No, but he is a boy, still," Jinnae smiles back, and squeezes your arm. "Your ex-"

"The handsome one," Minsu interjects.

"-You always chased after him, yes?"

With a pout, you nod. Every single time.

"And he learned that there were no consequences to his actions," she sympathises. "If you care about your friendship with this one, then show him there are consequences. Show him your expectations of how you should be treated."

"But-"

You go to protest, but stop yourself. All you want is for things to be okay again - but Jinnae is right. Him walking away is just a sign he isn't fully ready to face up to it, yet.

"Honey," Junghee sighs. "You are better than any man who behaves like a baby. Sometimes they need a little push to grow up."

"Trust us," Jinnae smiles. "We're giving you the advice we wish we had been given! Decades change, but men don't. Still the same simple creatures."

And so, when you arrive home a little later and open up the mystery pouch to find a sparkly My Melody, you try out a little simplicity. Just send him a photo of her. No message. No plea for him to respond. It takes him three hours to read it. Just responds with a thumbs up emoji. You wanna scream.

So used to Seokjin and his insistence on always being mature, you've no idea how to handle Jeongguk's immaturity. He's petty .

Trouble is, he's just like you.

You sort of see why Seokjin hated it, now.

But Jeongguk is just a friend. You've no reason to be arguing with him like you would a partner. You don't speak to any of your other friends daily.

Just because the silence between you isn't normal for the pair of you as a collective, it is normal in the grand schemes of everyday life. Maybe it's okay.

A residual guilt lies in his stomach for the rest of the week, of which he can't seem to shake.

No amount of water he could drink would wash it away. It sits there, quite content, when he's in the gym, when he's sat at his desk staring into the void, when he's getting ready for a shift at Dionysus. It snuggles up; gets comfortable, even if it makes Jeongguk anything but.

He opens your text thread more times than he cares to admit over the week, but never texts. Nor do you.

Time typically taken up by Jeongguk is replaced with preparations for Taehyung's showcase at Ryu Gallery.

It's not a huge undertaking, but there is coordination and logistics that need to be taken into account. Tae's given you full control of liaising with the gallery professionals, which feels daunting. The process is new to you, so you're having to learn on the fly, but all has gone well so far. You've enough understanding of the gallery scenes to know what to do and say, even if you don't always know how to execute it.

For the most part, it's fine.

There is one day, though, where nothing seems to go right. The vans hired to move Taehyung's art are a no-show, and all the other affordable options are booked up. You spend all day trying to figure out a solution. There's only one person you know with enough trunk space to fit Taehyung's largest work.

He ignores your call. You figure he's studying.

So instead, you text him.

I really need your help. Please don't ignore me.

He calls back within thirty seconds. Arrives at the storage unit no more than ten minutes later. Barely utters a word to you. Opens the passenger door for you to get in, even when you say you'll walk to the Gallery.

"It's miles away. Don't be stupid."

"It's fine," you insist.

"Just get in the car."

"I-"

"Get in the car."

And so you do. The drive is silent. An apology rests on the tip of your tongue - but you aren't gonna give him it.

He helps you unload, silent, still. Makes sure everything is as it should be. Plays nicely with Tae and Nabi, even if he's a little cold with you. Rehashes the same dumb conversation with you as you prepare to leave.

"I can walk."

"No, you can't."

"I'm very much capable of walking home alone, Jeongguk," you say so sternly that he almost wants to snarl a response back.

Fine. Walk home alone. See what I fucking care.

Instead, and quite surprisingly, you find his hard eyes softening.

"Please," is all he says - and how can you refuse?

Jeongguk says nothing as you both get into his car. He looks ahead, stoic in the stern facade he's portraying. Hard to read, it feels almost like you're strangers again - but when you were strangers, you were both enthralled by the idea of what if.

He could have been anything, and so could have you.

He never anticipated that you'd end up being his favourite person in a crowded room. Always liked your glitter - always sought it out when he was behind the bar and looking for a friendly face - but never knew how much he'd like the girl wearing it. And once he learned? Well, he never imagined ever feeling this awful in your presence.

But see that's the thing.

Despite the heaviness of such a feeling, he doesn't want you to leave. Doesn't want you to walk away from him. Will take the uncomfortable tension in his car, if it means he gets the comfort of you being close by.

The city is far too small, he decides as he comes to a stop by your apartment. Got there far too quickly.

"Will you come?" You ask. "To Tae's show, I mean."

"Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

You nod. "Okay. I just know you've been studying and like, if it's just gonna add stress-"

"Byeol, it's fine," he insists. "I'm gonna be there. Are you going out afterwards?"

"Probably," you say. It's been strange not including him on your night out plans, though you sure his are the exact same. It's a whole group affair; a pocha bar for food and cheap drinks after the show, then Dionysus.

Jeongguk's in charge of the guestlist for the club, and you know you're on it. Taehyung confirmed it - so you know that he knows you're going out. Just wanted to hear it for himself, apparently.

"I'll see you then," he smiles.

"See you then."

As he drives off, you inhale an almighty sigh. Fuck .

--------------

Danbi sits with you later that evening in your living room, her Spotify playlist humming through the television speaker. Lights dim, glasses of wine on the coffee table, you both needed a breather from stress-ball Taehyung.

"I swear, men don't know how to regulate their emotions properly," she huffs, with a roll of her eyes, even despite her fond smile. Reaching over for your drink, you can't help but agree.

"You're telling me. He's a Capricorn right?"

Danbi nods.

"Earth signs," you sigh and pretend like you aren't thinking about your favourite Virgo. "Notoriously bad at opening up. That'll be where your issues lie."

"He's so forthcoming, normally, though," she pouts. "Had no problem with his feelings and confessing them to me. I don't understand why he can't deal with his feelings of stress."

"Different parts of the brain, maybe?" You shrug, not knowing if it is or not, but throwing any excuse into the void. "Like, think about it - you have no problem cooing over dogs all day long, but the second it comes to be openly affectionate with Tae-"

"I'm just not a PDA girlie!" she whines. "Do you think it bothers him?"

You shrug. "He normally seems okay with it - but that's not the point here. The point is that boys don't make sense. Everyone says they're so simple and yet I've never met anyone more confusing than Jeongguk."

Danbi smiles. Wondered how long it would take to get you rambling on about him.

"And like, I know ," you sigh. "He's a Virgo . I should have seen this coming. Wanna be all up in your business one moment and then off-grid the next. Classic Virgo. I just don't understand how he can be so rational and reasonable when it comes to me and my feelings, yet when it comes to his? Oh he just freezes up. I don't understand it. Do not understand. Do you understand?"

Maybe it's the fact you've both had a little too much wine, but Danbi can't understand either.

"What I don't understand why the fall out of such a small argument had to be so big," she hums. "Like you both said something shitty, but that's it. There's no reason why you still need to be in a mard with one another."

"Hey! He said something shitty."

"And you decided to start chewing out the girl he, like, lived and died for. Was always gonna get a bad response, darl. You know this."

Regretfully, she's right. Being a dick about Hayun was only ever gonna bite you in the ass when it came to Jeongguk.

"I just don't get how she can repeatedly be awful to him, and he just forgives her at the drop of a hat. I say one, maybe two unfavourable things, and it's like I've committed war crimes. Literally he's not spoken to me since, other than that god-awful CU run-in."

"You need to tell me more about those ajummas, by the way," Danbi laughs. "But like, trauma isn't it? Why do you say 'how high?' when Jin asks you to jump?"

You're silent.

"You want to keep him happy, 'cause him being upset with you made you feel horrible . You don't wanna feel that kind of pain again, so you do everything within your power to avoid it," she analyses. "I wouldn't be surprised if Jeongguk is just the same when it comes to her - so cut him a little slack, there. Yes, he was awful in what he said to you, and yes, you deserve an apology - but you weren't being fair to him either, my love."

You pout. "She's the worst though. Why can't he see that?"

"Maybe she's great in bed," Danbi offers, which only makes you frown more. "Or maybe she's just a manipulative bitch who knows how to play the poor boy like a fiddle."

That sounds more like it, but it makes you feel so bad.

"Think about it," she continued, before referencing the subway sighting from hell. "She knew Tae was coming to meet me for dinner a week or so back. He'd mentioned it on their group chat. Her shift at the tailors had finished, like, half an hour before then - and yet she invited Nabi to meet her right as she knew Tae was coming to meet me. Weasled her way into our plans and for what? A chance to scope me out?"

You consider her points, and are still so relieved knowing the truth of the subway sighting. Danbi had come home and ranted to you about it for a solid thirty minutes. Taehyung was seemingly just as blind to her intrusion and Jeongguk always is.

It's sort of a relief to know she's like this with Danbi, too. Hayun doesn't seem to like people taking up spaces that she left. Expected her seats to still be free upon her return.

It's just annoying that Jeongguk's lap is apparently her favourite.

While Taehyung's always liked Hayun, he's never been interested in her. Not romantically. Had a bit of a thing for Nabi when they first met in college, but nothing ever came of it. He didn't feel compelled to chase her. Not like he did with Danbi. He's glad for this, because he really does cherish his friendship with Nabi.

He also never really had to see the fall out of Jeongguk and Hayun, 'cause Jeongguk never wanted to put Taehyung in an awkward position. Kept his pain hidden away, only for Jimin to see.

Despite this, Taehyung is well aware that whatever went down wasn't pretty. Jimin doesn't cut people out for no good reason - but he also hasn't insisted that anyone else should, nor shared any of Jeongguk's dirty laundry.

By protecting his friend, he sort of feels like he's damaging him, too.

You do, at least, have one thing that Hayun can't compete with: your value to Taehyung when it comes to galleries.

Makes you smile just thinking about it the next evening, standing beside the artist himself as even more punters gush over his work.

The Ryu Gallery is a steep step up from the painting cafe.

It's a black tie event; cocktail dresses and silk shirts. The champagne in the flutes is real, this time. Taehyung's collection is being showcased alongside small artists from neighbouring cities. A few of them are fairly well-known within the circuit, and for him to rub shoulders with those he admires? Oh, it's incredible . The smile on his face, whenever he thinks no-one is watching him, is adorable.

You're pleased for him - and he's pleased to have you around whenever someone in a suit worth more than his monthly rent starts asking him questions. Still his official (unofficial) agent, you're doing all of the business talk for him. Building contacts. Creating a network for him.

From across the room, empty champagne flute in hand, arms folded across the front of his white shirt, Jeongguk doesn't mean to stare at you for quite so long.

Hair up, you've dyed it. The blonde is mostly gone, but there's a gradual fade now - dark to light - and he wonders how the fuck you managed it. Knows it must have been a salon job, but wonders how on earth you had time between the last-minute artwork transportation and the opening of the show.

You didn't. Danbi did it after half a bottle of wine and it's a miracle that it looks the way it does.

The dress you're wearing only adds to it.

It barely covers your ass, but is so puffy and pretty, it doesn't look indecent. He thinks - but is not entirely sure - that it's the Selkie dress you've been whining about since October.

He doesn't know what Selkie is. Just heard you say the word four million times.

You had wanted to order it, but apparently your size kept going out of stock as spooky season approached. "It's just a black dress!" You had pouted - but now that he can see it for himself, he knows that it was an understatement.

He's never seen you look more like yourself. A sheen of shimmer covers your skin, and your eyes are just as sparkly as they always are. Even your dress has a little sparkle.

It shouldn't. It's plain black. You and Danbi had just gotten a little creative with a can of fine-mist glitter hair spray the night before. Wine, apparently, leads to good decisions.

Sometimes .

You sort of look like a fairy, he thinks to himself with a smile - but then remembers you scornfully berating him for still 'believing' in them, when you had been arguing about Hayun.

In discussion with some men in suits, a hand resting on Taehyung's arm as you enthuse about his artwork, Jeongguk thinks you were made for a role like this. Eyes so kind, smile so genuine, he never doubts that you mean every compliment given to Taehyung.

Your other hand is holding onto a champagne flute, and Jeongguk counts your rings when he notices there are more than your usual three. One on your pinky and your thumb, two on your middle finger, and one that rests midway up on your index finger. None on your fourth finger. Never on your fourth finger. Nails black, they match your dress.

And that's when he realises what's missing.

There's no bird around your neck.

His gaze drops, throat bobbing as swallows down the 'fuck you' he wants to shout. He wouldn't mean it.

Just knows how important the necklace is to you. How important it is to him. How important it is that you've stripped yourself of it.

It's half an hour before Jeongguk dares to stand by you.

Looking at one of Taehyung's pieces, there's no one else beside you.

Until, like a magnet finally succumbing to its pull, he's back where he belongs.

"You're not wearing your necklace," he says quietly.

"Didn't match my dress," you simply say, but you both know it's a lie. The dress is just as whimsical as your eyes are sparkly. It would have looked perfect.

"Should have worn a different dress, then," Jeongguk says a little childishly.

"And you shouldn't have shown up with such a shitty attitude," you say, voice sweet despite the scathing nature of your words.

"Yeah, well maybe-"

"We're not doing this here," you hiss quietly. "Grow up."

Part of him wants to fight back, but it's mainly just because it's an excuse to talk to you for a little while longer. He doesn't actually wanna fight. He wants to say he's sorry and that his mind is everywhere all at once at the moment, and that he's only felt any semblance of clarity over the last few weeks when you've been in his sheets.

It's not for any deeper meaning other than the simple fact you help him switch off. Are good for him. Exactly the kind of influence he needs for his mile-a-minute brain.

So instead he nods. Tells you to have a good night. You wish him the same back. He goes to turn away but pauses, and says, "you shouldn't have worn a different dress. It looks great on you - gorgeous, actually - but the bird wouldn't have ruined it."

Oh, but it already has.

You don't thank him for his compliment. Try not to think about how gorgeous he looks, hair waving around his movie-star face, sparkly eyes pretty, dainty chains around his neck almost matching the shine in his irises. In all black except for his white shirt, he's your favourite artwork in the whole entire gallery.

Instead, you just walk away from him and back into the crowd, leaving him to find your friends once more.

He doesn't go to them immediately. Instead, he takes a moment to himself. Looks at some more of the art that isn't Taehyung's, and finds he doesn't like it half as much.

In a dress just as red as her lipstick, Hayun finds herself beside Jeongguk looking at the same painting. It's dark. Abstract. Not his cup of tea, yet he was drawn to it regardless.

"Here, buddy," Hayun smiles as she passes a champagne flute over to him. There's no hesitation to the way he accepts her offering, a subdued smile on his lips. Nodding towards the painting, she tries her best to pretend as if she didn't just watch the tense conversation unfold between you two. "Cool isn't it?"

"Mhmm," he nods, taking a sip of champagne. The bubbles catch in his throat, and it feels like he's swallowing marbles instead. Sort of wishes he was. Any excuse to leave the awkwardness of this evening would be welcome by him. "Not my favourite."

"Really?" She asks.

"Yeah. Think I prefer things a little more complex," he considers. "Not enough for me to focus on, yanno? My eyes get all jittery."

He doesn't even realise he's glancing over towards you, again. Needs a little glitter to sort his eyes out.

"You're such an oddball," Hayun smiles."Tae reckons this artist is the one to watch at the moment."

Jeongguk turns his nose up. "Tae's stuff is way better."

"Well yeah, but you're biased," she says warmly.

"You don't think so?" Jeongguk chirps a little surprised that she'd prefer something so boring.

"Don't get me wrong, I love Tae's work - this is just far more my style. When I finally have an apartment, I'll probably get something like this."

"Maybe Tae can put in a word for you," Jeongguk suggests. "See if he can get you something from the artist."

He doubts it very much - has seen the price tag - but it's a thought that seems to inspire her.

"You're a genius!" She smiles. "What would I do without you?"

Oh, it's rotten how everything seems to remind him of you; of the way it feels like he'll die without you. Had always been a joke before - but it really does seem like death would be preferable to an endless reality of this .

He feigns a smile. Shrugs. Changes the topic. "You going out after the show?"

Hayun pays no mind to the fact he ignored the question. Nods. "Yeah, we all are, aren't we?"

"Think so," he confirms. Wonders if you're still gonna be there or not.

Almost as if she can read his mind, Hayun asks, "Is she coming?"

" She has a name."

"And yet you knew exactly who I meant," she smiles, but it's entirely fake.

He doesn't like her tone.

"She's really important to me," he says, not looking for a fight, but fancying one regardless. "Please can you at least try to be nice?"

"I'm always nice."

Her tone is pedantic. She's being a little sassy for no good reason. Jeongguk doesn't have the patience at the moment to humour it. Has been too stressed - too upset - this past week. His social batteries are what they usually are.

And so he snaps a little.

"Can you not be like this?"

"Like what?" she recoils slightly.

" Mean ," he says. "We both know you weren't nice on New Years. You really upset her."

Hayun enjoys this fact, but hides her smile well. In fact, she pouts. Furrows her brows.

"She wasn't exactly kind to me , either."

Jeongguk knows this is probably true. Also knows that you likely think you were entirely justified.

"I don't care," he says. "She's the whole reason Taehyung's been able to network like this. Tonight's a celebration for Tae, yes, but we wouldn't be celebrating if it wasn't for her. I'm not asking you to be besties - just be nice. Please."

Hayun's silent for a moment.

"I'm not trying to be an asshole," she says quietly - and then she does offer some honesty. A rarity. "I've come back and someone else is sitting pretty where I used to. I don't know where I fit in anymore. This shit is hard, buddy."

"You'll make it harder for yourself by making enemies," he says softly, accepting her words to be genuine. He knows you've only seen the worst of her, but underneath it all, she's human, too.

"She looks at me like she wants to skin me alive!" Hayun whispers, with more animation than is really needed.

"Well, she kinda does," Jeongguk laughs, but doesn't elaborate. Will let Hayun stew on that one. "Look, just be kind, okay? She'll be nice if you're nice."

"Fine," Hayun shrugs. "But you better give her a talking to, as well. She called me a little weirdo last time I spoke to her. Who even says shit like that?"

Jeongguk smirks. Sounds exactly like the kind of thing you'd say.

"She's not really talking to me at the moment, so," he shrugs. "I probably won't."

Oh, now this does please Hayun. Pleases her so much. Suddenly, she does feel like playing ball. Will be nice as pie. Will give you all the smiles in the world. Will be kind. Might even kill you with it.

The smile of hers prevails throughout the night. You notice it occasionally, but do your hardest to ignore it. Barely even look in her direction.

Maybe it's wrong for you to take your frustrations out on her. Maybe she isn't all that bad - after all, Jeongguk is one of the best people you know. Surely someone he holds so close can't be that awful. Surely .

As the evening dwindles down, your group of friends gather up together to head to a bar downtown, celebrating Taehyung's success - except, he's not with them.

Nor are you.

You both stay behind just to do final checks with the exhibition coordinators, and then head to meet the group downtown.

They're in a pocha bar just a couple blocks down from Dionysus. There's only a few of you within the group that really have any business in a pocha bar. Afterall, what use is a happily committed person in a hunting bar?

Designed quite literally for the single to mingle, each table has a digital tablet affixed to it. It's where you order your drinks and food - of which, when you arrive, you can see your group has already got sorted - but also acts as a messaging device between tables.

If you see someone that tickles your fancy, you challenge them to a game, or just a chat. Something to get a little bit of communication bubbling; see if it could boil over.

Grinning to yourself, you think that Jeongguk's ragtag group of friends must be a nightmare for any other groups of single men in a pocha bar. You can't imagine groups of straight women wanting to message a table other than theirs.

That's the downside that comes with a pocha; you're divided on the basis of gender, because apparently sexuality is limited to attraction of the opposite sex.

Always makes you roll your eyes - but the food is cheap and the drinks are even cheaper, especially when it's a table from across the room buying them for you.

Though your tables are next to one another, the boys are at one end, and the girls are down the other. It's the only way you could be sat together.

Jeongguk sits opposite Yoongi, on the chairs closest to the girls table. Jimin, Namjoon and Hoseok are further away, closer to the digital tablet.

Squeezes Danbi's shoulders as he walks past, Taehyung nabs the seat at the far end of the table. He'd much rather be next to her, but equally doesn't mind being with the boys.

Separated by a gap in the tables, Seoyeon is 'beside' Yoongi. Right where she should be.

Opposite her, beside Jeongguk is an empty seat. Nabi is in the next seat over, facing Danbi. A table of six with only three girls sitting around it, the two chairs closest to the tablet are also free. An abundance to choose from, but there's only one you want.

Foolishly, as Jeongguk's eyes meet yours, you forget there's a thorn in your side. Are reminded as she enters your peripherals, thorn wedging deeper into your flesh, and waltzes straight through the gap in the tables.

His eyes don't leave yours. Not when she approaches. Not when greets him. Not when she sits down beside him.

All you can do is watch as she takes your place.

Though you suppose it wasn't really yours in the first place.

You push the unpleasantness of the feeling in your stomach to the side. Fuck Hayun. You don't wanna be such a misery guts, but she just ruins everything. Ruined Jeongguk and his perception of love, ruined New Years (almost) and now she's ruining your night.

She doesn't have to, you remind yourself. Just ignore her existence.

And so as Danbi passes you a shot, you do just that.

The music in the pocha is unbelievably loud; probably to encourage closeness between people, but it just means you spend your evening giggling with Danbi instead of even trying to get the boys attention - and that suits you just fine.

You don't pay notice to Jeongguk, nor Hayun, nor anything that could make you feel shitty in any regard. It's been a successful night. Taehyung did so well. You know that you'll be waking up to enquiries in your email inbox regarding his work.

Taehyung is the first to notice a message pop up in the corner of the tablet over on your table. Of he course he was. Had been glancing over to Danbi endlessly.

Red and imposing, the notification mark sits right where the chat threads should be. You're closest to it, so as Taehyung's laughing about the fact some idiotic group of guys had the gall to message your table when it's obvious you're with them, you click through.

"Table 12," you say with a little extra animation and wiggle of your eyebrows. Jimin's looking around, counting from the door to work out who it is - and when he spots a group of four girls giggling away, he knows it's them . And then you're laughing, too. "Oh shit. Wrong table. They meant to message you guys."

"What are they after?" Jimin enthuses. "Are they talking about the handsome stud in the middle of the table?"

You snort a little, holding back a laugh. "Not quite."

Your eyes flick over to Jeongguk, then back to the screen. You poise yourself a little flirtily - get in the right headspace to read such a message.

"Tattoo guy" - you glance up towards him again, and think it's sweet that he looks a little bashful. - "Fancy giving us a tour of your tattoos? Show us yours and we'll show you ours."

Another message pops through as you're reading aloud, so you continue.

"P.S. you'll have to take our clothes off first to see ours."

"Holy shit," Danbi laughs, and you find yourself laughing too - more so at the look on the faces of all of the boys. Even Yoongi looks a little bewildered - but so does Seoyeon.

Confident girlies are always the best girlies - you bet they're a lot of fun to be friends with.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" you tease Jeongguk. Secretly, you like the idea of Hayun having to watch other girls swoon over him; get her sweating out that 'irreplaceable' attitude she likes to parade herself around with. "Do it!"

He swallows as he looks at you. Is ignoring the taunts and excitement from the boys around him, even as they ping bottle caps at him. His chest hides the thud, thud, thud of his heart well; the challenge of flirting with girls who aren't you making him feel all strange.

But you're encouraging it.

Maybe he should.

"On one condition," you add with a giggle. God, he's missed you. "You have to make up fake stories for all of your tattoos."

Jimin laughs. Agrees. "Gotta tell them the most unhinged shit, and see if they still wanna shag you."

The tables enthuse over Jeongguk's potential faux tattoo history, and decide he got his snake to overcome a fear - but it failed and now he screams every time he looks at it.

"You have to do the scream, too" Seoyeon giggles, then does the most adorable little squeak you've ever heard. Yoongi looks at her with liquor-laced lips that are abundant with love. "Like that! Gotta scream like that."

Jeongguk imitates her, and has everyone cracking up. He repeats it - looks down at his tattoo, and screams out a tiny little squeak. Earns a confused look from the table next to him. Does it again. Some of the wait staff also look at him now. You and Danbi are practically falling onto one another's laps from how ridiculous but how committed to the bit he is.

"Okay, okay," Taehyung laughs. "What about the flowers?"

"Hmmm.. He's allergic?" Jimin says right off the bat. "Had the ink infused with pollen, because he thought it would cure him. Arm nearly fell off instead."

"Perfect," Taehyung beams, chortling with laughter.

"I'm not gonna be able to remember any of these," Jeongguk smiles - but truthfully he's just nervous. Doesn't wanna go and strike up a conversation with strangers. Wants to stay here and keep the people he cares about laughing.

His gaze falls on yours, and he's pleased to see that your smile doesn't fade.

It's so nice to see him sparkle again.

He purses his lips, fond dimples etching into his cheeks.

And maybe it's the alcohol, but you think he's got eyes that are worthy of forgiveness, even if a 'sorry' hasn't left his pretty lips.

They part a little, his tongue nervously flicking at his lip ring. It does - as it so often does - the thing . It's as if he wants to say something, but the words never quite make it out.

It's only been a moment or so, but you notice Seoyeon nudging Yoongi from across the table, being far less than subtle as she draws his attention to the pair of you.

Immediately dropping Jeongguk's gaze, you feel your cheeks flame a little, just as rosy, as the flutter in your heart is delicate.

He hasn't said sorry, you remind yourself. He's not forgiven.

And yet being in his company after a few drinks just makes all the residual hurt of the past week or so fade into nothingness. Happiness comes so easily around him.

Or at least it does, until Hayun starts to toy with Jeongguk's arm, pointing at tattoos that you don't know the meaning of, and saying shit like 'you can't lie about that one,' or 'you held my hand so hard I thought you'd break it when you got that one.'

You lean over to Danbi, and squeeze her arm.

"Just gotta make a quick call," you say, holding up your phone. "Won't be long."

She nods and hurries out a "yeah, yeah. Of course. That's fine, go for it. Want me to order any more drinks?"

You scan the table, which is littered in bottles and small spillages, and decide that above everything else, you're hungry.

"Sotteok sotteok?" You suggest, having seen the table next to you get the delicacy - rice cakes and sausages on a skewer, coated in sauce - delivered to them ten minutes ago.

"YES!" she exclaims, immediately reaching over to the tablet to order some, then grins back over at you. "Go, make your call. I'll keep your food safe from the boys."

"Angel," you grin right back, excusing yourself. There's no commotion as you do so - everyone is engaged in their own conversations, music blaring, chaos in every corner.

Danbi explains where you've gone to anyone who asks, and nobody questions it.

Nobody except for Jeongguk.

"Call who?" He queries, brows furrowed. Thinks it can't be anything work-related - too late for that - but also knows how many fuckers in suits tonight seemed to know you in relation to Seokjin. Wonders if maybe it's him.

When Danbi just shrugs, Jeongguk nods.

He studies the space left by you, empty and vacant, and wonders if you'd rather be with him , right now. Wonders how often you've thought about him tonight. Wonders if you think about him when it's just you and Jeongguk together.

Wonders if you ever think these things about Hayun.

He tries not to waste his time worrying, eyes focused on the windows towards the front of the bar, but he can't seem to help himself - and when he finally does catch a glimpse of you?

He smiles . Laughs, even. Tries to keep his giggle to himself, and is thankful no one notices.

Directly across the street is an arcade, lined in neon lights and cheap cash grabs that will give you no return. You pry the final few coins out of your purse and sink them into an endless pit of despair, just in the hopes you'll get a teeny tiny little My Melody plushie.

The mechanical whir of the machine is obscured by the music blasting out, some song by a new group that you don't know by name. Prime location, in the middle of the nightlife district, you're sure you've sunk more money into this arcade than you probably have into any of the bars. As soon as you get a few shots in you, you convince yourself you can win everything .

You've never won anything.

Still, it's not just the shots that have you here today (though you and Danbi have worked through two bottles of soju each, and the night has barely started).

It's your need to think about something else, other than the sorry state of affairs between you and Jeongguk, that has you gambling.

Things shouldn't have to be this complicated, you think as you rummage around for another coin in your purse. The bastard machine just eats it and barely even tries to hook onto the plushie that you've expertly lined up.

It's an endless slog of effort, money, time put in. Nothing left to show for it.

Funny, how often that seems to happen.

You return to the table empty handed. No one else realises where you went. No one except Jeongguk - but he isn't paying attention to your return.

Mainly because a message came through while you were away. Table 23. "Black dress - hate to see you go but love to watch you walk away."

Danbi had read it with a giggle in your absence, and as soon as you return, she finds great pleasure in showing you.

"Table 23?" You laugh, flattered. "Don't wanna turn around. Are they cute?"

Danbi glances behind her shoulder, but averts her eyes almost immediately. "Oh crap. They're looking," she whispers as she leans in a little closer to you.

Nabi uses her vantage point on the opposite side of the table to scope them out. Hayun's too busy listening into the boys conversation and inserting herself where she isn't wanted to pay attention to you.

"Okay," Nabi enthuses. "There's three of them. Two of them keep looking over, but one of them refuses to, even when they nudge him, so I think it's him."

"And?" you giggle, still wanting to know if he's cute.

"He..." she pauses. Bites her lip to stop herself from laughing.

"He...?!" You laugh, not caring to stop yourself, with a little shake of your head. There are stars in your eyes, lights from the bar reflecting in them like the Northern Lights. You're a sight to behold when you're like this; just as radiant as your glitter is sparkly.

"Hey."

The voice behind you as someone comes to stand by your table is new . Deep. A little purry.

"Hi," you smile, looking up to the man now standing in the space between your table and the next group over. Tall, you think first. Handsome, second.

"Can I sit for a second?" He asks, not even bothering to introduce himself first. Nabi scoots over instantly, a smile plastered all over her face. Danbi is pinching you beneath the table.

"Sure," you nod, a little coy, not wanting to give away your total satisfaction.

He's dreamy as he takes a seat, shirt white, hair slicked back in that sexy kinda James Dean way that always makes you a little hot under the collar. He smiles, and his eyes are just as kind as his grin is charming.

"A bar like this is no place for a dress like that," he says resting his arms on the table. Leans forward a little. Is engaged in conversation with you, and you alone.

"No?" you flirt a little. "Where should it be instead?"

The insinuation of your question is clear, and you know that his mind will have jumped to the only logical answer: his bedroom floor.

But with a smile like his, you should have known he'd be a gentleman.

"Somewhere classier," he supposes.

"Are you saying I should leave?" You raise a brow.

He shakes his head. Doesn't drop his eyes from yours. "No. At least, not without giving me your number."

"I don't even know your name," you say with a roll of your eyes.

He holds out his hand for you to shake. You consider it - but instead, you hold out your own hand for him to kiss. With a smirk, tongue running along his teeth, he concedes. Holds your fingers and rests his pretty eyes closed as his lips press against your knuckles.

"Park Seojoon."

You nod. Accept his name into your brain. Feel Jeongguk's eyes burning into your hand, which is still being held by Seojoon.

A few drinks in, and a little vindictive, you're glad . It's stupid because you will scream if anyone else decides you're jealous of Hayun - but you sort of want Jeongguk to be jealous that there's someone new sitting in the seat opposite you.

"And yours?" Seojoon asks. "It's only fair."

"Give me your phone," you say, not wanting to give him an easy win.

You also wanna check he isn't a sleazebag with a girlfriend.

You've met plenty of those. Dated one not so long ago - and he wasn't too dissimilar from Seojoon. Tall, handsome, chivalrously charming. Yeah. You know men like him.

And yet he doesn't hesitate. Unlocks his phone. Lets you have at it. You do as you wish, with no complaint from him - which is open up instagram. His search history is pretty clear: the bar you're currently at, a few of his friends, some idol singer who you assume he has a crush on. Nothing that screams red flag.

Typing in your username, you give yourself a follow, and hand it back.

"There. Don't need my number, now."

A message pings through on the table tablet.

Table 23: He knows how to cook

Table 23: Has his own apartment

Table 23: Is a CEO

Table 23: Massive cock

Table 23: His personality, I mean

Table 23: Dunno about his dick

Table 23: Saves cats from trees on the weekend

"Please ignore my friends," he laughs. "I think they're going for the hard sell. So embarrassing."

"So none of it's true?" You grin right back, enjoying the ridiculous nature of it all.

He shrugs. Smirks. "Some things are. Some things aren't. I'll let you find out which is which."

Even more messages ping through.

Table 23: He showers twice a day

Table 23: Speaks 14 languages

Table 23: Is still a virgin

Rolling his eyes, he shakes his head, but his smile prevails. He looks like a movie star; suave and sweet all at the same time.

"I gotta go sort my friends out," he laughs. "But I'll message you, okay?"

With a giggle and small nod, you say, "I'll be waiting."

"Okay," he grins, all bashful and endearing, not really wanting to go.

"Okay," you tease a little.

He's barely even left his seat before Nabi and Danbi are squealing.

Jeongguk's eyes are down, and he's twiddling with his thumbs. Face of thunder, you think he's being a baby. A big, pouty baby. Good .

"Right," Jimin declares loud enough for you all to hear. "Dionysus? I wanna dance."

You hold hands with Danbi and Hoseok for the entire walk. It's only a few streets over, but being drunk always makes the walk so much longer - plus you really shouldn't have had so much to drink on such an empty stomach, especially after running around prepping the show all morning.

"CU," you hiccup as you walk past the convenience store. Open 24 hours, you dread to think about the sorry state of people of whom the cashiers have to deal with. Knowing that you're a mess at the moment? Yeah. You feel bad. Will probably apologise to the poor uni student working behind the counter. "Snacks."

The others are walking ahead a little and you don't bother to stop them. Will just meet them in the club. Your names are on the guestlist, courtesy of Jeongguk, so it's not like you'll have to queue to get in.

Unless he takes your name off the guestlist.

Of which he half considers when they get to the bar and he realises you're not there.

"You seen B?" He asks Jimin, but is met with a shake of his head.

"No clue."

Half an hour later, under the bright strobes of the club, Jimin finds you asking him the exact same thing.

"Where's Jeongguk?"

And again, all he can say is "no clue".

You spend the night missing each other; emotionally, physically.

There are only so many places you can be in Dionysus. In fact, from the bar, Yeonjun can often see you both and wonders why you're so far apart from one another - but also notices the bright red ball and chain that seems to be attached to Jeongguk. The closer you get, like the magnets you are, the further she drags him away.

It's painful to watch, Yeonjun thinks. Can't seem to figure out a good reason why Jeongguk is wasting time with anyone that isn't you.

But waste it he does.

His one night to let his hair down, to feel fucking normal , and instead he feels like his head is gonna cave in. The shots aren't helping, and the way his head snaps to every glimmer of light just in case it's you is borderline embarrassing.

It's not until just gone 1 AM, when he returns from that little courtyard of his, Hayun closely behind, that he finally catches a glimpse of Hoseok and Danbi. You're nowhere to be seen and when he questions it, Danbi doesn't wanna tell him jack shit.

"Just wanna know if she's okay," Jeongguk explains as they stand by the bar, but again, Danbi doesn't give a shit.

"I know she's okay," she simply shrugs. "There's your confirmation."

"Dan-"

"You haven't even fucking said sorry yet!" she erupts at him, a little fiery when she's been drinking and ever so protective of her friends. None of the group are with them, so she doesn't hide her frustrations. "You fucked her, then basically told that her a nasty piece of work is worth more to you than she is. What was it you said? That Hayun is trying to fix your friendship?"

Jeongguks tongue runs along the inside of his cheek, a little pissed that the entire conversation has been relayed to Danbi. Jimin obviously knows most of what happened, but he was in the apartment. It is unfair though, for him to think you wouldn't need to vent about what had been said. He knows he did.

When he doesn't reply, Danbi rolls her eyes.

"If fixing your friendship with Hayun comes with the price of ruining the friendship you have with a girl, who's quite literally only ever wanted what was best for you, is it really worth it? Huh?" Danbi antagonises.

He goes to speak, but Danbi shakes her head.

"I know you're Tae's friend, and I'll never get in the way of anything between you guys - but if you think for a second I'm not gonna prioritise my best friend just to make things a little more comfortable for you, you're wrong. You know just as well as I do how much her piece of shit ex fucked with her. So either you be fucking nice to her, or you leave her alone. "

The final sentence stings Jeongguk like a wasp.

It's not too dissimilar from what he's said to Hayun.

Danbi sighs. Looks down. Shrugs her shoulders as her hands tap against the tops of her thighs. Walks a little closer, because she knows fighting with Jeongguk is the last thing you'd want her to do.

"She's at home. Texted me about five minutes to let me know she got there okay... just," she sighs again. Knows that you'll probably be annoyed with her for telling Jeongguk about it in the morning. "Just tell her that you're fucking sorry, okay? Fix it."

Jeongguk is in a taxi en route to yours within two minutes.

------------

You've barely changed out of your dress, just in your matching black set, when your phone begins to ring. The caller ID is one that you've been wanting to see all week, but you're not sure you want to answer, now.

Just can't seem to help yourself, though.

Reaching over for the shirt of his on the back of your chair, you pull it over your body.

"Hello?"

"B..." Jeongguk breathes out. "I... Fuck. I'm at your door. Please can I come in."

"A bit presumptuous for you to show up first," you hum, arm folding across your chest, hand resting on the crease of your elbow.

"I know," he says, about to launch some ramble about how he's sorry and how he thinks he might die if things stay as they are - but then the latch of your door goes, and there you are. Phone to your ear, in little more than a shirt that belongs to him, with an unreadable expression on your face, you shrug.

"Could have knocked."

"Didn't wanna wake anyone," he says, as if he wouldn't have knocked had the call gone to voicemail.

"Danbi's out," you shrug, and then push the door a little further open. Silently invite him inside. He's always welcome, even when you're mad at him. Maybe especially when you're mad at him. Could be anywhere. Could be away from you. And yet he's right where you want him to be.

He's only in your apartment for a moment or so before he clocks the white roses on the kitchen counter. Another 'sorry I couldn't make it' gift from Seokjin. The card is face up, so it doesn't take much for Jeongguk to know exactly who they're from. He says nothing of them.

"Freezing in here," you say, then knock your head to the side and encourage him into your room. "C'mon. I've got the heater on in there."

He does as you say, 'cause he considers himself lucky to be in your home. Lucky that you didn't open the door just slam it in his face. Lucky, just for the simple fact he knows you.

"What brings you here?" you ask, taking a seat on your bed.

Jeongguk stands. Looks around your room. Likes that you've got your little pink neon light on. The glow hazes around your body, ethereal in the way it makes your glitter sparkle.

He doesn't answer immediately.

You're still tipsy, and so is he. Hair dishevelled, jacket tossed on your bedroom floor, Jeongguk looks good. Not that he doesn't always, it's just... nice seeing him dressy. Smart pants, a button up shirt. The sleeves are rolled, forearms exposed just like they were in the bar earlier. Girls drool at the mouth from the sight of him alone.

And he's in your room.

You have something people want.

Him .

You'd quite like to keep it.

Yours .

He nibbles down on his bottom lip, unsure of how to phrase anything that wouldn't sound awkward. His lip ring glistens in the neon light, and it's like you're wearing novelty glasses that scatter hearts around bright light when you look at him.

So you stand.

Say nothing.

Brazen in your drunken haze, you shrug.

Reach for the hem of his shirt, and pull it up your body, over your head.

When your eyes meet Jeongguk's again, his lips are parted. He's confused. Mentally, emotionally, physically. Doesn't really understand.

You're naked save for the matching set you're wearing. It's one he knows well. One he's taken off many times before. One that he didn't think he'd be seeing tonight.

"If you're here to fuck me, then fuck me," you say a little coldly. "If not, you can go."

"B, that's not why I'm here," he says, but his eyes are on your body, now. His lips fold in on themselves. Throat bobs as he swallows.

"So go," you say.

He shakes his head.

"Well, I don't wanna talk," you say all rather childishly. "So this is your option. Fuck me, or leave."

"That's not fair."

"Life's not fair."

"Why are you being like this?"

The answer is simple: You want to be useful for him.

Oh, it's so pathetic. You want him to use you.

Not in a sexy, degrading kind of way, but a pathetic, needy kind of way. The same kind of way you let Seokjin use you. If Jeongguk fucks you, your drunken, out-of-sync head will think it means you still serve a purpose. Like he still needs you.

"Said it yourself," you shrug. "The people I care for use me."

He furrows his brows.

" I never used you," he hisses. "Not once did I ever fuck you just to use you."

"So then why the fuck did you?" You hiss right back, angry for the sake of being angry. "Why do you sleep with me? Still?!"

"Because I care about you!" He matches your volume, not really sure if he has the appropriate words to articulate himself with. "Because you're my friend, and I care. Because it was something we both wanted at the time. Because I like the way you feel, and I like the way you make me feel. If that's using you, then so be it - but not once was my own gratification at the top of the list of reasons why. Not once. Not ever."

Anything he could have said would have been wrong. You would have argued against him, contradicted yourself, gone round in circles regardless of what he had said.

"So it was never just because you wanted to fuck me?" You scoff. "There was always a big list behind it? Intentions? You never just wanted me? It was never just enough to want me?"

Jeongguk knows you. Knows what you're doing. Doesn't fight back.

"I wanted you. B, I still want you," he says softly - but when your hard gaze doesn't ease, he gets defensive. He also, strangely, starts to undo his shirt buttons, too. "And what about you, huh? Did you not use me? Hm?"

You're silent as he reaches the bottom of his shirt; toned chest exposed, honey skin warm.

"I can't hear you, B," he taunts. "Is that not exactly what you've done with me? Used me ?"

And then his fingers are fiddling with the buckle of his belt, too, standing so close to you that you can smell his aftershave.

"I never fucking used you," he whispers harshly, hands cupping your cheeks to pull you closer. You nestle into his touch, eyes wide and a little watery. Hands holding onto his waist, you're reminded of just how warm he always is. His nose nudges against yours.

You're both drunk. None of this makes much sense. Not now, and likely not when you're sober either.

"You're my best fuckin' friend. My best friend. You know how much I adore you?" He doesn't wait for an answer. Lifts his lips to press them against your forehead. "Never used you, Byeol. Never ."

It's not an apology, but it is something .

And after a week of nothing?

Oh, it's so lovely to have something .

"Please," you begin to say quietly, as if he's not already half undressed with no intention of leaving you. "Don't leave."

"Didn't come here to fuck you," he says. "But I also didn't come here to leave either."

"You don't have to fuck me," you say, a little embarrassed and ashamed of the ultimatum you'd thrown his way in the heat of your anger. "You can stay. I don't give a shit about the sex. I'm sorry. I just, I was so mad with you and I don't understand what's going wrong with us and-" you pause, scared you might cry, but catch your breath first before it wobbles. "And I think I was trying to reduce you to meaning something far less than what you do. I've been a terrible friend. Awful. I just..."

Jeongguk shakes his head. "I've not been a saint, either B. I'm sorry, too. Both said some shitty things. Both know we didn't mean them. Right?"

You nod, face still loosely in his grasp, brows pinching together all forlorn and pitiful.

"Look like a lil emoji, you do," he smiles down at you. "Can we just go to bed? I'm still a little drunk and I really don't wanna stand up anymore. Just want things to be normal again."

There's nothing more to argue about. Nothing that will make either of you feel any better. You're his only remedy.

And, so, somewhere between half-drunk apologies, and rambles of who was the bigger asshole, and who appreciates who more, you begin a dance you know all too well.

You touch. Stroke. Hold. Know that you shouldn't, but you roam. Feel .

He does the exact same thing back.

Whines a little, dulcet and needy, whenever you reach a spot he likes.

Neither of you seem to mind that the fumble is a little awkward, or the fact that you're both starting at zero. It's unlike you. You're both normally ready and raring to go - but the night has been draining and neither of you really expected to end up in this situation.

Truthfully, you know that you shouldn't take things further.

But you also know it's the only way things will really feel normal again.

Eventually, encouraged , Jeongguk sinks himself into you, unprotected. 

Skin on skin, it's nothing new, but it's important, you think. Want him close. Want him yours.

And when he's like this?

Well, you've both said it before. It sort of feels like he is.

"Don't wanna fuck anyone that isn't you," he husks into the crook of your neck as your nails scratch against his scalp. "I know you're mad at me, but I don't wanna fuck anyone else."

His slow hips build up pace as he fucks himself into you, repeating himself. "Only wanna fuck you. You know that right? No one feels like you do."

You're not sure you believe him. It makes you sad. So inexorably, pitifully sad.

Yet the way he feels inside you makes your heart swell .

And so you say nothing; just let dulcet little whines escape your lips as he fucks himself deeper into you, wanting his intentions to be known.

You want to believe him. Want to believe that his words are as honest as you like to tell yourself his heart is.

"It doesn't matter," you husk back to him. "Doesn't matter if you wanna fuck other people. You're not mine."

But if he's not yours, it means you're not his either, and Jeongguk kind of hates that reality.

So he fucks you like you are. Buries his head into your neck, keeps you trapped beneath the safety of his body, does all the hard work so you can just feel good. With him. For him. Because of him. In spite of him.

He doesn't kiss you, but he wants to. Not just because he's horny and he likes the way it feels, but because it sort of feels like he'll cry if doesn't. Instead, he rests his nose against yours. Will let close the gap, if you want to.

And see the thing is, you're just so scared he'll say something that will shatter your soul, that you think it's safer to kiss him. Think your soul will be better protected if your lips are on his, even if it means he can steal it.

Pressing your lips up against his, you let him whine into your mouth. It's indistinguishable, but you swear you can almost hear his words: I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours. Or maybe, just stupid, stupid, stupid.

Either could be applicable.

Jeongguk doesn't think it matters. His words mean nothing. It's his actions that hold weight now. His choices .

He's made a few bad ones in the last few hours, but not you. Never you.

"Speak to me," he husks into your lips.

But what is there to say? He's choosing you now, granted, but he chose her tonight. Chose her in front of his friends. Chose her during the week. Let someone else choose you, instead.

"Byeol, baby." He grits through strained grunts. " Please ."

The way 'baby' always gets you folding has you so mad at yourself; but all you want is to pretend like he means it.

"Koo," you whimper back as he continues fucking himself into you.

"Yeah?"

"Keep it like that," you manage to say. "Feels so good like that."

"Yeah, baby?"

You nod. Press kisses into his neck. Let your nails scratch down his back. Leave evidence of him losing himself to you on his skin. Paint him in the colour of what it's like to love you, even if he doesn't.

When you reach down to rub yourself a little, to bring you closer to an orgasm, Jeongguk knocks your hand to the side. He wants to do it. He wants to be the reason why. He has to be. He has to make you come undone to make up for the fact it feels like he's falling apart, too.

It's embarrassing how quickly he gets you there. Stupid how your heart swells when your pussy miscommunicates, and tells you that your orgasm actually means something . Lame, how much your smile softens for him.

But then he's doing just the same. Asking where he should finish, and stuttering when you beg for what you want.

"Please, Koo. Inside me. Please."

But there's a weight to filling you raw that he can't bear, yet. He's not strong enough. And so he edges as far as can, pulling out only when he feels his release travelling through his body. Wanks himself onto you, spilling his cum all over your pussy; mound, lips, clit. You're his, his, his . Or at least, at this moment, you are. Once you clean yourself up, the feeling will fade.

Your mind taunts you. Something about Egypt, and rivers.

As his body collapses on yours, Jeongguk spent, you hold him close. Hug him. Never want him to leave, because you're scared that you'll lose him again. Scared that he'll choose her. Scared that he'll leave, just like Seokjin always does.

Of course, he doesn't. He tosses you his shirt as he goes to grab your something to clean yourself up with from the bathroom. Waltzes around your apartment in just his boxers, as if it's a home you share. Strokes your back when you both go to brush your teeth, and is the one to grab the water when you eventually head to bed. Stands by you just beforehand, and rids you of his shirt. Gets you naked, 'cause he wants to feel your skin against his, in the simplest, most human of ways.

He tells you to get into bed as he heads back to the sitting room. You do as he says, and watch him through the gap in your bedroom door as he goes to check the front door is locked. There's no intention for him to leave in the night. Will never leave his side of your bed cold. Won't abandon you.

Because he does choose you. He chooses you time and time again.

And though you don't realise it, yet, he chose you tonight. You over her .

Perhaps it wasn't a linear choice and perhaps there were half a dozen smaller choices that contradict his largest one, but it counts for something.

"I got you something," he whispers against your shoulder, finally back in your bed with you.

"Hmm?" You question, a little curious but not really wanting anything from him.

There's a coldness to your disinterest; one that Jeongguk is well aware of, but trying to ignore. He's only known you like this once, really - the time he lied to you.

Knows that you're probably processing through similar emotions. Knows it means you likely think he's lying about something. Knows that he should tell you what happened in your absence tonight - but he's scared, and thinks he'll lose you entirely. Thinks things are already hanging by a thread. 

Doesn't realise that the red strings of fate take more than just a vicious pair of ruby nails to tear through them.

And so he doesn't tell you.

Instead, he leans over the edge of his bed to grab his coat and rummages around in the pockets until he finds what he's after.

The softening of your eyes as he presents you with the pretty little plushie you'd been trying to win earlier on in the night? Oh, it's like Jeongguk can breathe again.

"Know you wanted it," he mumbles, passing it over to you. Looks away a little, then focuses on your hands, where you gently clasp the My Melody.

He doesn't tell you the part where he spent 30,000won on a plushie worth no more than 5000. Doesn't tell you that he accidentally won a Cinnamoroll, too, and gave it to a group of kids who really had no business being out so late in the party area of town. One of the girls, who could have been no more than thirteen, had a little Cinnamoroll scrunchie in her hair. The group unanimously decided that she'd be the one to keep it.

The simplicity of such an exchange between friends had Jeongguk thinking of you. First and foremost, you're his best friend. There's no person he'd rather be with when he's feeling as torn apart as he is now - but when you look at him, and smile softly, he feels like maybe you could help put him back together, too.

"You got me her," you say, stating the obvious.

"I got you her," he confirms. Watches as your eyes sparkle in the low luminescence of your neon light, pouring over the little plushie, checking all the details. "Is she okay?"

You nod. Hold her close. Look over to Jeongguk. Find that he's far too far away. Reach your arm out for him to come closer. He reaches up for your fingers, and just holds your hand. Pulls you closer. Gets you exposed, your sheets pooling around your waist as he moves you. Your other hand is still clutching your little plushie, not caring for keeping yourself covered anymore, coming to sit in Jeongguk's lap, right where he wants you.

"Look," you say softly, wiggling the floppy ears of the plushie. "See her ears?"

Jeongguk watches you with subtle adoration, and hums a quiet confirmation.

"What colour are they?" You ask, deciding to give him lore he never asked for.

Stroking his hands up your waist, just to keep you close, he wonders if it's a trick question. "Pink."

You shake your head. "Nope. She's wearing a hood. Her hood is pink. Her ears are white."

"Trick question," he pouts, which makes you smile. Kinda was. Kinda knew he'd get it wrong.

And so you kiss him to say sorry. Kiss him, as if you aren't just friends. Kiss him, as if he's not holding on to your bare waist for dear life. Kiss him, as if he's not naked, and nor are you. Kiss him, like it's normal.

He keeps his forehead pressed to yours when you withdraw, and lets his nose nudge up against your own. Strokes gently against it. Loves the way it feels. Just another thing about you he'll never understand, but also never complain about.

"What was that for?" he whispers.

"For being a good friend," you whisper right back. "I know I'm not always easy."

Jeongguk shakes his head. Doesn't think he's been a good friend in the slightest. Knows you'd agree, if you knew the chain of events that had led him to your door.

His hands stroke up your back and encourage a hug, of which you naturally fall into. Arms around his neck, you press another kiss into his hair, as his lips do the same just beneath your ear.

"Best friend," he whispers against your skin. Hugs you tighter. Never wants to let go. "I don't deserve you. I'm so sorry."

You shrug. Neither of you have acted like saints over the last week or so. You afford him a little extra wiggle room, because you know he's not really been himself lately. Things said in the heat of the moment aren't always a reflection of true feelings.

You pull away a little. Stroke his hair back. Tuck his long fringe behind his ears and smile at how pliant he is for you. And then you kiss him again. Hands on his cheeks, lips soft. Just once.

"I'm still tipsy," you lie. "Don't get used to it."

"I won't," he promises - but oh, how he wishes he could.

See, Jeongguk thinks he knows , now. Thinks that he knows the way he's feeling. Thinks he understands his brain, and his heart, and the silly little things they tell him; secrets whispered only for him to know. You've done it again, Jeongguk. We told you not to. You said you wouldn't.

But he ignored them then, and he'll ignore them now, for he knows that in the coming weeks he won't be able to.

"I've never known you without your tattoos," you mumble your thoughts aloud, eyes on his arm as your fingers trace the lines. Jeongguk's never really given it much consideration before. Had been too busy looking at you even to realise your contemplation. "Never seen your skin without art on it."

He's slow as he rests the side of his index finger beneath your chin and tilts your head in the opposite direction. Your eyes are on his other arm, now.

"There," he says softly. "Looked just like that."

You smile. Stroke your fingertips up the inside of his bare forearm. Deliberately move from freckle to freckle, marvelling at the wonder of his natural markings; the things that make him human.

"I wonder what it would have been like to know this version of you," you say quietly.

"Me too," he replies. "But you know what?"

"What?"

"I'm glad you know this version."

"You are?"

Part of you is disappointed. Feels like maybe he's aware there wouldn't have been space for you with Hayun around.

He nods, looking up at you with wide eyes and an awareness that he needs to be careful with his words. The lines beneath his eyes deepen as he smiles, little specks of pink light catching in his dark irises. Prettier than any flower, you think.

"We both had life to live," he says. "Lessons to learn. At least, I did. I think if I'd have met you sooner I would have ruined things."

"How so?"

"Dunno," he lies. Remembers the way Hayun told him his feelings would ruin things, too. Saddens him that he was put on this earth to love in abundance, and yet all his heart ever seems to do is destroy things.

"Probably would have fallen in love with you, or something stupid like that."

The silence he's met with is expected.

The way you shrug, and say "maybe I would have fallen in love with you, too," is not expected.

It silences him. So you just smile.

"I guess we'll never know. Doesn't matter, though, does it?"

"Suppose not," Jeongguk says with a tight, closed-lip smile. His lip ring doesn't do the thing, and the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, but it's late and there's no need to be over analysing careless words in the comedown of a drunk hookup.

You fall asleep far easier than he does. Content in his arms, you know that awkward feelings towards his ex aren't worth fighting over. If you and Jeongguk were together, then maybe. If he fucked her again, then maybe. If he started withholding small portions of truth from you to spare her, then maybe.

But for now, you'll put her down as an annoyance. Bad pollution. Rain falling on your journey to work. One pump of shampoo left in the bottle, when you really need three. Not something to stress about, just something to be aware of.

And when you wake up to a still sleeping Jeongguk wrapped around your waist, like an expensive watch on his wrist, the red stain of the bar stamp still smudged on his hand, you forget her entirely. Can't recall her name. Don't know her perfume. Decide that she doesn't exist. Has no place in your life.

Yet if you were to pay attention, you'd know it was her lipstick tarnishing the back of his hand; smeared as he'd push it off of his lips on his way out of the club, trying to rid himself of the way she felt. Trying to mask the sensation that came with succumbing to her. Trying to attribute the feeling on his lips to the pressure of them against his hand, not her lips.

Jeongguk wakes up with you. Showers with you. Orders breakfast - but when it arrives, he can't stomach a damn thing.

"Hangover," he lies.

"Unlike you," you say. He's never normally one to turn down food, even when he's hungover.

You're still learning about him. Yet to discover that guilt ravages his appetite.

It's a lesson you hadn't expected to be taught so soon, but when he looks up at you from across the kitchen, eyes a little watery and gaze forlorn, you just sort of know.

Can't explain it. Can't articulate it.

Your frown is soft, eyes just as defeated as your shoulders now appear.

"Maybe you should go home," you simply say. You don't want confirmation of your assumption that something happened last night. "I'm sure you've still got lots of studying to do."

Oh God, she knows.

He knows you know. Knows that he can't do anything. Knows that if you don't know, trying to explain himself will only be an admission of guilt. Knows that if you do know, explaining himself won't make anything better. Will likely only make things worse.

"Lots to do," he nods. Doesn't wanna disturb your day any further. Your life. Doesn't wanna keep doing things that will only cause irreparable damage.

So for now he goes home, and causes just temporary damage.

Is on the living room floor with a tube of E6000 glue and a few panels of shattered display case when Jimin arrives home from wherever he stayed the night before.

Tossing his wallet down on the kitchen island, Jimin knows this is a new break. Knows Jeongguk's already fixed up the last one.

"Do we need to sign you up for anger management, or something?" Jimin tries to joke, but it comes out so sternly it seems like he actually means it. Maybe he does. Maybe Jeongguk should. "Two in two weeks must be a record."

"Just need to practise some breathing exercises," Jeongguk says. Has already googled it. Knows he can't keep doing this.

He never has, and never would, lash out at anyone else. It's not anyone else that he's frustrated with. It's himself. Doesn't know how to function with a head like his. That's all.

"I'm worried about you," Jimin eventually says. Knows Jeongguk won't take well to him prying, but knows that he has to express his concern regardless. "Ever since Hayun got back-"

"I know," Jeongguk interrupts, but is soft with his voice. "Trust me. I know. Head's a fucking mess. And then there's Byeol."

Jimin had been looking in the fridge for something to eat, but pauses when Jeongguk mentions you. Still refers to you affectionately. Only ever calls Hayun by her name - not Yun, like he used to. He doesn't interrupt. Knows Jeongguk must wanna talk, and doesn't wanna make him clam up.

"I just... I'm repeating shit. Making the same mistakes. Don't wanna lose her, but am scared that if we stop, like... doing stuff, that she'll get bored. That I'll lose her regardless," he admits. Is embarrassed by his own emotions.

Jimin has seen first hand how much you care. Has fucked you himself, and knows full well that just because sex isn't on table between you with him, it doesn't mean you don't want to be his friend. The idea of sex being the only thing tying you to Jeongguk is abhorrent. Offensive.

But also entirely understandable.

Jeongguk is a product of his past traumas, just like everyone else. He's been hurt, and how he copes with his feelings is a direct result of that.

"She's not Hayun," Jimin says. "Don't lower her to that level."

And then, just because Jeongguk can't hold it in any longer, he splutters out the truth. 

"She kissed me last night." 

It's red. Her nails, her lips, her laugh; the memory of it. Dangerous. Damning. 

"Hayun. She kissed me, and I kissed her back."

He spares the details. Doesn't share how she'd asked to see the courtyard in which she knew Jeongguk had spent the turn of the New Year with you. Doesn't share how she'd sat with him on the bench, looking up to the stars. Doesn't share the questions asked and the answers given.

"Said you think about me sometimes. Were you lying?"

"I'm many things, buddy, but I'm not a liar."

"What... What do you think about? When you think of me?"

He shouldn't have asked. Morbid curiosity got the better of him. He didn't expect her to list specifics. To reference the summer he got his first tattoos and how he'd always fake a little pain afterwards so that she'd kiss him better. To mention the same summer, in his parents house when they'd been away on holiday and he'd been house sitting. How she'd stayed there the entire time with him. How every room, except his parents, now has a memory of her in it.

"Sometimes I think about fucking you," she had said. "But a lot of the time I just think about what it was like to kiss you."

His achilles heel. A weakness. One she knows well.

And for a moment - too tipsy for his own good, too frustrated with the idea of you leaving with someone else, too stubborn to listen to his heart as it told him to stop - he leant into the weakness. Let her lips be reminded of his. Let her hand roam his body. Let his roam hers. Surprised her when he didn't go straight for her ass like he always used to, but went for her chest instead. Pulled away almost immediately - and that's how Hayun now knows that you really are a threat.

"We don't have to stop," she had said.

Jeongguk had shaken his head. "We do."

"We're single. What harm will it do?"

"You really need me to answer that? History not speak for itself?"

Hayun was quiet for a moment. Nodded. Looked down. "It's her, isn't it?"

Just like before, Jeongguk had said, "she has a name."

And, so, just like before, Hayun said, "and yet you knew exactly who I meant."

Jeongguk shakes the memories from his head. Forgets the way she kissed him again. Forgets how he let her. Forgets how her hands were back on his body, and how they got a little over friendly. Also forgets that embarrassment that comes with someone trying to touch your cock, only for it to be soft. Forgets how his brain was screaming chess, chess, chess at him.

"You can't come and blow my life up just as I'm starting to sort it out, Yun," he'd pleaded as he finally walked away. "Don't. Please, don't."

Jimin isn't stupid. He knows there's more than what Jeongguk has told him. Something as simple as a kiss wouldn't result in this, surely.

"And DB found out?"

Jeongguk shakes his head. "No. And then... And then I showed up at her door-"

"Gguk," Jimin sighs, a little disappointed for what he knows is to come.

So Jeongguk just shrugs. Can't defend himself.

"Did you at least tell her?" Jimin asks.

He doesn't need to answer. The guilt is written all over his face. Jimin closes his eyes. Sighs. Tips his head back to heavens, as asks anyone listening why they had to curse him with such an idiot for a best friend.

"What did I say, huh?" Jimin huffs. "Told you not to fuck her until you sorted your head out - not to go and fuck your head up even more and then fuck her again just for the fun of it-"

"Wasn't for the fun of it!" Jeongguk stresses. "Jimin, I- Oh fuck ." He puts down the shards of the display case he's been holding and rubs a palm over his face, pushing his hair back. He looks so fucking defeated, but Jimin thinks it kinda serves him right. "I've gone and fucking done it again."

Jimin doesn't want Jeongguk to clarify what he means by that.

And Jeongguk doesn't really want to admit it.

They both know exactly what Jeongguk's done.

Or more so, what his heart has done.

"Well then stop fucking her!" Jimin almost laughs. "Christ, Gguk. Do you seriously just never learn your lesson?"

"I know," he pouts, letting his body slouch against the sofa. "I know, I know. I didn't mean to. I just... I just wanted to be with her last night. Byeol . I wanted to see her. And I was gonna tell her, but she was already pissed off with me and so I was trying to fix things-"

"You can't fix things with sex ," Jimin shakes his, exasperated.

"Well," Jeongguk considers. "I kinda did."

"Gguk."

"Sorry," he grimaces, knowing that trying to make a joke of it all isn't the correct thing to do."I think she knows. She pretended that she didn't, but I know her, Minnie. Know how she works, how she excuses the bad behaviour of the people she cares about. She knows something happened."

"Then she deserves your honesty at the very least, Jeongguk," Jimin says. "Sooner rather than later."

Jeongguk frowns. Knows Jimin is right. Knows that the damage is already done. His bad choices have been made.

When he tries to study that afternoon, he can't.

When he tries to eat that evening, he can't.

When he tries to sleep at night, he can't.

All he can do is stare at the glitter on his forearm from where your head had been resting the night before.

The stars are hidden by clouds, tonight. Curtains open, the city lights leak into his room. Regretfully, Jeongguk thinks he won't be able to see the stars for a while. Too much cloud. Will take a while to clear.

Yet when he closes his eyes and is consumed by visions of you, it's like his mind is a telescope, and you're a galaxy reserved just for him.

His star girl.

But stars burn out; and Jeongguk doesn't know how much longer he has left.

Phone vibrating beneath his pillow, he almost considers ignoring it - but then hears the faint familiar rustle of paper on his sheets. 

A bird has fallen.

He reaches for his phone. Checks the screen. It's you. There's no real message, just a link to a youtube video. Some ASMR type thing, with a clickbait title. STRESS = 0% !! ULTIMATE REVISION BREAK ASMR TO HELP YOU SLEEP!! (no talking).

He takes the confirmation of you being awake to message you.

JK: are you free tomorrow?

You: why?

JK: don't be difficult, b. just wanna talk to you about something.

You: it can wait. no heavy talks until after your exam, okay?

It only confirms to him that you know . You have to. Wouldn't reply like that if you didn't. Doesn't make him feel any better.

JK: a bird fell, too.

You: it can wait, too.

JK: are you sure?

You: positive.

He almost locks his phone.

Tries his luck, instead.

JK: sunday, tomorrow

You: at least we know you'll pass your exam if they ask you about days of the week

JK: will you still come round?

He locks his phone, now. Doesn't wanna see your answer.

Doesn't get one.

You leave him on read.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[bullet-prooflove]

Valentine's Day Bingo: Napa - Juan 'Juice' Ortiz x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @stydiaswish @goosterroose @darqchilddaydreamz @librarian1002 @redpool @trublu2u @fleureeee @yezzyyae @jeybae @hatersaremymotivators @ravennaortiz @courtney-elizabeth93

Hitting the Winetasting Square on the Bingo Card

Juice wants to make all of your dreams come true, that’s why he books an overnight wine tasting trip to Napa.

He does the research, looks into the best tours and places to stay. He’d love to take you somewhere classy like the Poetry Inn with its personalised services and spa but there’s no way he can afford it. He settles for something a bit more low key, a pretty B&B with a gorgeous rose garden and pizza oven they use for outdoor events.

He knows he’s chosen the perfect place when he sees the expression on your face. You practically light up with you see the quaint building with the French windows that open up onto a small balcony with a sea view. It’s the nicest place that Juice has ever stayed. He’s used to shitty roadside motels, with sheets you just have to hope are clean. When it comes to you he only wants the best.

The wine tasting takes place during the early evening in courtyard. The two of you sit at your own table underneath the threads of Edison bulbs that have been strung across the structure of the courtyard. It creates an ethereal glow in the midst of the pretty pink roses that line the edges of the space. The scent floods his senses as the host tends to the stone pizza oven, prodding the charcoal to ensure the heat remains constant.

You make your own pizzas, it’s something else that Juice has never done before. He never really learned to cook, everything he eats is already pre-prepared or processed. It’s the best pizza he’s ever tasted, thin crust with a smokey taste from the charcoal. The perfect ratio of cheese, sauce and toppings because he’s tailored it entirely to his own taste. He doesn’t think he’s ever eaten anything this good.

He expects to feel out of his depth when it came to the wine tasting portion of the evening, he’s daunted by the descriptions of notes, tones and textures however you make it fun. The two of you turn it into a game, trying to list as many ingredients as possible as you score your wines by your own unique rankings. It devolves as the evening goes on because the two of you can’t stop laughing at the changing criteria, you come up with.

You’re both a little tipsy by the time it’s over. Juice is a beer man, he loves IPAs and unique blends from microbreweries and you don’t drink too often. The wine hits you both hard, filling Juice with a warm pleasant sensation he feels all the way down to his bones. You find yourselves strolling through the rose garden, your fingertips trailing over the pretty velvet petals as he watches you.

Fuck you’re beautiful. Your skin is a little flushed from the wine, your eyes bright, when you turn to look at him you have that smile on your face, the one that makes his heart beat just a little faster in his chest. His arm wraps around your waist, drawing you back to him and you laugh as just a little in that silly way of yours.

 “I love you.” He tells you for the first time, underneath a starry sky in Napa. “I love you so god damned much.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[dreamsgazer]

Day 3 - Holiday Food

12 Days of Christmas

Warnings: Some minor swearing, mention of sex but no smut or anything graphic.

I wasn’t exactly surprised when Lemon told me that most of the Twins’ Christmas meals used to come out from a frozen plastic tray, when they were children. 

I was more surprised however, that things haven’t changed much now that they can definitely afford food worthy of its name.

Lemon grabs an apple from the Murano fruit bowl Tangerine and I bought in Venice for him during our last romantic gateway “I guess the holidays are not really a huge thing when you risk to be abroad during them because you have a mission.”

He bites the fruit, shrugging “I mean, we put on the decorations and all the stuff, but we never know if we will be in London to enjoy them during the actual day. They are still nice, though,” he adds, looking around with pride. I let my gaze take in the decorations he has picked during one of our longest shopping trips earlier in December. While my Tangerine definitely likes the more traditional - and obscenely expensive - decorations, carefully arranged with measure in the halls of his penthouse, Lemon is... eclectic.

If I must find a theme, I will definitely go with Winter Wonderland Candyland & Glittering Stuff that Lemon randomly liked. It works, though, in its own way. Exactly like Lemon.

I stop staring at a glittery tree decoration shaped like Thomas the Tank Engine –  one of the many, many Thomas ornaments spread around us ”Well, since this year you both are going to be around to enjoy them, how about we organize a proper Christmas lunch?”

”That’s a good idea,” his face lights up with sheer delight “we can have turkey and festive punch and all the good stuff! We can phone a restaurant and see if they deliver on Christmas day!”

“Or I could do it!”

Lemon looks at me, his eyebrows lifting in surprise “You mean you are willing to cook us a meal?”

“Not a meal,” I tut with fake annoyance “but a full, complete, hopefully tasty Christmas lunch.”

He seems at loss for words, but not displeased. I shrug “Listen Lem, you guys always do nice things for me, all the time, so it seems only natural I want to reciprocate.”

“Well, you are banging my brother and you are a sweet, fun person to have around,” he interrupts me with a huge grin “It’s no big deal to be nice with you!”

I hope I’m not blushing at both the brotherly teasing and the sweet compliment “Uh, thanks I guess. But that’s my point: it’s no big deal to cook a nice meal for people I care about. Especially for Christmas!”

He still seems reluctant to accept my offer so I insist “If this makes you feel better, I can let you help me. Tangerine is out of question,” I quickly add “I love him to the moon and back, but I would like not to set my kitchen on fire! Or having the turkey thrown in frustration outside the window! Or-”

“Yes, point taken, darling, thank you very much.”

We both turn on our tall stools in time to see Tangerine entering Lemon’s kitchen with a pouting expression, back from his tailoring session for a new suit. 

“Already back?” Lemon asks.

“Yeah, just in time to listen to the two of you trash talk my cooking skills”

”What skills?”

Tangerine flips him off, making his brother laugh “C’mon mate, do you remember when you tried to make us a Crisp Sandwich and you somehow destroyed the packet and then smashed the crisps?”

”I was fucking ten, Lemon!” is the indignant reply.

”So was I, but my packet didn’t look like a T-rex had gone through it.”

I try not to laugh, gently grabbing Tangerine’s tailored jacket and forcing him to bend over where I’m sitting. I kiss him lightly, the familiar tickle of his moustache a welcomed and well-known added sensation “Sorry, T, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

I’m aware that while he’s not annoyed for real, some cuddles are not going to hurt. He likes them too much even if he won’t ever voice that out loud. 

Tangerine huffs against my lips, wrapping an arm around my shoulders “Kiss me again and maybe I will consider buying you a nice Christmas present, you naughty little thing.”

Lemon pretends to gag in the background, and I laugh pushing my lips against Tangerine’s. He lingers a moment longer, then straightens himself “So, Christmas Lunch, uh? Do you think I have enough culinary skills to help you at least with the groceries?”

I want to reply something sweet and warm, but Lemon interjects with a devilish grin “I fear not. Do you remember two years ago when I asked you to buy some custard and you came back with a jar of mustard?”

My snort is covered by Tangerine’s frustrated groan “Oh, fuck off, would you?”

”Don’t worry, love,” I pat his arm affectionately “We’ll let you pick the wine. Maybe.”

[threadsun]

I feel like Joseph wouldn't like "fancy" food, ya know? Like, this man loves himself a good grilled cheese but the minute you swap out the american cheese with anything else he doesn't like it. He just has a simple palette, preferring simple dishes and home cooked meals to fancier servings. And that was fine, he was broke he couldn't afford that shit any way so he never had to eat any of it...until Jean came along

Jean loves taking Joseph out to dinner, both because he can show off his arm candy, and because he gets to see Joseph squirm in his seat wondering what Jean will order for him. It's the best little power trip for him, watching this giant of a man look so small as he orders the most expensive this on the menu for him. Joseph has to eat it too, Jean doesn't even have to make him. Because of how he grew up Joseph can't stand to leave food on his plate, especially when it costs so much

Poor Joseph is so uncomfortable in high society, he feels like he's getting things dirty with his presence, he shouldn't fucking be there. Not to mention the expensive clothes Jean makes him wear, all tailor made due to his size. He hates it, he hates it so god damn much but he can't say anything, and Jean loves it. Jean especially loves when he ruins them in some way, which is bound to happen, that delicate little wine glass was never going to survive Joseph's strong grasp

Jean basks in Joseph apologies, even his years of acting strain to keep the smile off his face as Joseph tells him he'll do anything to make it up to him. Of course Joseph can repay him, all he has to do is put that pretty little mouth to good use. What? Such a slob doesn't deserve respect, now get over here and suck my cock, it's all you're good for after all

👀😳🥵 oh this is good!!! Jean lives to make Joseph uncomfortable, the more the man squirms the happier Jean is >:3c Especially when it makes Joseph even more desperate to please him

[gloombeauty]

I love Lana to death but what was she thinking?! 😩🫣

It's called having mental illness while being surrounded by 'yes' people.

I said it once, twice, thrice - this bitch is too rich to be walking around looking like this in front of anyone. Much less a world stage. She can afford a stylist. There's no fucking excuse.

Mind you, these are $1,000 - $8,000 dresses that she is wearing/destroying. There's a reason Zimmermann doesn't promote her on their pages like they do for other celebrities. Most times, Lana doesn't fit in their dresses. On another hand, she's cutting these expensive gorgeous dresses like it's Halloween. I don't blame Zimmermann for not promoting her when she wears their dresses. She looks crazy. Why would they?

And that belt she wears around every dress...girl, what is that belt suppose to help you with? Your vape? lol

If you go on Zimmermann's page, their sizes don't go beyond a size 12. So it says. But if you look at the dresses individually, most don't go over a size 6. Lana hasn't been a size 6 since 2012.

She literally doesn't fit in these Zimmermann dresses, so what she does is have them tailored for her. They have to open these dresses up in the back and add more material to it so it can fit her. I have family members who work in tailoring, so this is something you can pick up right away. You can tell in the back of Lana's Zimmermann dresses that they have been tailored.

Instead of choosing a brand that fits her body beautifully (there are many brands out there) she chooses a brand that doesn't fit her body. She essentially has to destroy the dress to fit her.

When Adele was close to 300 pounds, she was on stage looking like a gorgeous goddess every night. That's all thanks to the stylist who took care of her. She lost all that weight now and she still looks like a goddess on stage.

In other words, you can be fat and look gorgeous. There's so many brands curated for big women, there's no excuse to look ridiculous anymore.

Again - Lana is rich. She can hire a stylist. I wish Johnny Blue Eyes can come in and fix her mess but I don't think they are friends anymore. He did a tremendous job styling her for Born To Die through Lust For Life eras. He is sooooooo desperately needed right now. Like SOS.

This is what that dress was suppose to look like:

It's a beautiful dress but you would never know it on Lana. What possesses her to rip these dresses up like that is nothing but pure mental illness. My inner Dr. Phil detects bipolarity.

Who in her payroll is going to tell her the truth? Who's going to tell her she looks fucking stupid going out like that? Not her father. Not her two grown ass siblings who are financially supported by her. You know who would have told her the truth? The person she hates the most. The person who doesn't use her fame or need her financially. Her mother Patty.

She fucked up another dress. This is the Zimmermann dress she destroyed in Paris tonight:

What the dress is suppose to look like:

Anyway, I spoken about this subject before so this might be the last time I answer a topic like this with Lana. This woman drains me with her poor choices.

[meraki-yao]

An exchange student from Canada saw me crying and gave me a tissue. We talked. He's really nice. I'm sane now.

This is going to be a full vent. This is my full story on this situation. Only read if you want to and if you're okay with it. Also warning, this is long as fuck, I really trauma dumped here.

tw: suicidal thoughts, self-harm

Backstory: High School

I was labelled as a jack of all trades, master of none. I'm naturally a more art/social science/emotion/humanities person, but I took STEM subjects in high school (Physics, Chemistry, Information & Technology/ Computer, and Calculus & Algebra), partly because these subjects had objective, standard answers, which supposedly makes getting marks in exams easier, partly because I felt like I had to as my parents are both PhD in engineering, and at that point I still thought I had to be "my parents' daughter".

So throughout high school, all my external achievements were humanities/arts related while my studies were STEM orientated. But I struggled a lot with my STEM subjects (except for Computer because a lot of that is just stuff you would know if you use one a lot), and I mean, a lot. As in failing quizzes, fucking up assignments. Thank God I had really kind teachers who cared more about my mental health than my grades and were willing to help and accommodate my needs. But there were many times when I straight up broke down during a lesson and ran off to the social worker's. I skipped several lessons because I just couldn't go to class and try to listen when voices in my head were all yelling at how much of a useless piece of shit I was. I would spend three hours on a single question, and still get it wrong. It always felt like no matter what I did, I would go nowhere. And it didn't help that when I asked for help from my parents, their response would always first be "How can you not know something so simple". By senior year I gave up and started asking my friends and the internet.

On the contrary, I thrived in my language classes and liberal studies class. Even if I initially sucked due to the change in the system, I asked, I studied, I worked and I improved. I got somewhere. Effort paid off in a fair ratio. I never needed to ask my parents anything about that. I never needed to ask anyone other than my teacher. I loved doing my homework in those subjects. My writings were printed out as examples for the whole class. It was great.

Backstory: College Selection

By the time college choices rolled around I had no idea what to choose. At the same time, my mother was also suggesting I go to mainland Chinese universities for my undergrad, and I didn't want that. Going to the States or the UK wasn't affordable for my family, so I opted to stay local, to the dismay of my whole extended family.

So in the mess of all of this and no parental support because they are Chinese stereotypes who think the only courses worth studying are doctor and lawyer, my school's career counsellor suggested Bachelor of Arts and Studies to me (here's their website) a new personalized interdisciplinary degree in HKU. And I was so happy. It felt right. It felt like putting a on tailored dress. And despite my parents' protest, I put that as my first choice.

College entrance exams came and went. Overall I did pretty well. Got top scores in Chinese, English, Liberal Studies, and Computer. Got average for Chemistry, Math and Physic despite spending most of my study leave on these subjects. Just passed Calculus.

So the way the local system works (it's called JUPAS if you wanna look it up) is that by the end of November, you need to submit your 20 university programme choices, but after the public exam result is released, you're assigned 24 hours to change your choices.

And this is where everything started going to hell for me.

My parents, who in the first round of selection, compromised and let me put what I wanted, looked at my marks, and my choices, and vetoed everything. They said I'm not gonna get a job with an interdisciplinary degree, there's no career path for psychology, that the arts and science degree was created because the art, social science and science faculty didn't have that many people.

A different advisor, one who didn't know me personally suggested my current programme: biomedical engineering, which basically combines medicine with engineering. They said it's a lucrative career since health service is in demand, and with my basis in STEM subject I would do well, and that it's easier to go from a science subject to humanities if I want to do something different in post-grad than vice versa. By this time I had 2 hours left before confirmation.

If we were to completely ignore me as an individual, they're right. This would be the logical choice.

But at that point, I already knew it felt wrong. But unfortunately for me, all I could say is it felt wrong, which isn't a strong rebuttal.

With no "logical" rebuttal, two yelling parents and a fucked up head, sobbing, I changed my first choice to this programme. I cut my arm with a cutter over the myriad of scars I gave myself over the years. I told my best friend who was asking if I was ok, that I'll give it a go, and if it doesn't work I'll find a way out. I told the rest of my close friends that my undergrad will be me paying a debt to my parents, and I'd figure out my own dream in the future.

I shouldn't have caved in.

Back Story: University

University started. Immediately it felt wrong. Save for my elective (HKU has this really cool thing called Common Core, look it up if you're interested but essentially it's compulsory electives) I felt so detached from my engineering courses. I couldn't explain, just an inherent feeling that I don't belong here.

It didn't help that it was at this time that I realized I straight-up don't like biology.

Managed through year 1 first semester with average grades. Semester 2 I didn't have any courses directly related to the programme save for a probability & stats course that I fucked my way through. The rest of my grades were pretty good, even got two A- s. The feeling that I didn't belong persisted but popped up a little less.

Now: Breaking

Year 2 came, and from the moment in August when I had to sign up for courses, the feeling of wrongness came back in full force, amplified, even. It felt all-consuming.

This is from my diary:

"I don't wanna be here. I don't want this degree. I don't want this career God I don't want it. It's doesn't fit. I don't fit in this space. This isn't mind. It feels like dysmorphia. It feels like tar, black and toxic and vicious, sticking to my skin, trying to mould my body into something I'm not, to seep into my skin and dye my blood a dull shade of grey. I wanna fucking run away. I wanna fucking die. I don't fucking know what to do."

You guys kind of know the rest, because that's when I met you guys and started feeling safer here than anywhere else, and vented here. But for reference

September

October

November

December

January, January, Fuck you January

I skipped class. I got antidepressants. I binge ate and became overweight. Failed three classes. Parents didn't find out anything until the grades came out. Then they lost their mind.

Now: Not Enough

They blamed me for not trying hard enough.

They said oh failures happen, you have to learn from your mistakes and try again.

I have to set up a proper routine. Dedicate all my time and energy to staying physically healthy and studying. Spent my "free time" thinking. I even got berated for listening to music with headphones on.

Dad asked me why did I fail biochemistry. I said it was hard, the pace was fast, and I don't like the subject. He said there's no point in not liking it.

Mom said I needed to get rid of the idea that this degree is against me and accept it, that I shouldn't dwell on what-ifs from the past, and all the reasons they convinced me to choose this still stands, that learning is a fun and interesting thing that I should take joy in, that I won't be able to handle being a psychiatrist, that I used to be such a star student what the fuck happened to me, that each path has their own difficulties and I'm already on this road so why won't I just keeping going for the next two years, that if I quit and start over I'll be older than my cohort and my friends will all graduate before me and why won't I just follow the normal path dammit

SO EVERYTHING IS MY FUCKING FAULT HUH??

I don't fucking know anymore.

Now: The present

The reason I was crying earlier, was that I went to have a meeting with an academic advisor to ask about the possibility of transferring to a different programme.

There are two ways.

One, apply for an internal transfer by June. But that requires exceptional grades, and I don't have that.

Two, quit university and re-apply with my college entrance exam results. But then none of the credits I earned in the past two years will be transferred. All will expire. I went through shit for nothing except to confirm my mistake is a mistake.

I might figure something out when I'm not crying my brains out but right now neither option sounds like an option to me.

I could barely ask anything intelligent afterwards because I was trying so hard to stop myself from breaking down immediately.

Now: How I feel

I'm not supposed to feel like this. This is not normal. This is not how my university life is supposed to go. It cannot be normal to want to die every day.

The moment I realised this was fundamentally wrong was when I looked at my high school friends' social media, and saw them living their best lives: dating, joining the committee of societies, getting awards and scholarships, jobs and internships, travelling, going to parties, everything a young person should be doing. My best friend is chasing her dreams to became an actress at NYU TISHC, already getting paids acting jobs at year 1, going to prominent events, maintaining a 3.9 GPA, goes out partying all while maintaining a long distance relationship with her athletes boyfriend who is the best of the best in Asian youth, handsome, and just a great guy in general.

I'm supposed to be on the same level as them.

I'm from an elite class of an elite school in an elite city. I've been on city radio four times and city-wide broadcast television once. I was on four department/society committees, two of which I was chairlady. I wrote and directed my own play. My name was followed by seven internal awards when it was my turn to get my diploma during the graduation ceremony. I aced my classes. My drawing and writing had been in my school's anthology and yearbook. I genuinely enjoyed learning.

I'm not supposed to be this.

I'm not supposed to be this depressed, overweight person who can't get out of bed and skips classes and fails courses. I'm not supposed to be this stagnant, I was always moving. I was always giving it my 100%. I'm not supposed to not make any friends and want to stay in my bed all the time. I'm not supposed to be insomniac, or sick, or depressed, or overweight.

I was always fighting.

I don't have any energy in me anymore to fight.

I'm not supposed to turn out like this. This isn't who I want to be/ I hate whoever I am now. This isn't right.

But I'm fucking stuck, I don't know what's the truth, I don't know how valid "I don't like this" is.

A lot of people tell me to just ignore what my parents say but it's really not that simple. I only realized they can hurt me despite loving me and it's not my fault last year. And even then it's hard to stay firm on this belief. Because truthfully, I don't know what's right, I only know what feels wrong.

Fuck this. I want to fast forward until the day I figure shit out. I want to live here on Tumblr.

Fuck everything.

[missmonkeymode]

Imagine being a child in a home that doesn't love you. Of course, people DID love you, but the first person that did died during your creation and the second person that loved you died and left you in the care of someone whos supposed to care but doesnt, and 2 children that should care but don't. You love them, oh so dearly, you love them with all your heart just as your father asked of you to do. And they steal that kindness and lord it over your head for something that should be freely given. If you really love me, youd cook me breakfast, lunch, and dinner. If you really loved me, youd do the dishes and wash my clothes. If you really love me, youd clean the cinders of fireplace. Whatever they ask of you, you do it, because it is true, you do love them you promise, you'll do it right away. When you ask for help, they chide you and ask if you really do love them, because if you did you wouldn't ask them to help, you'd be able to do it all on your own. And so you do it all on your own. Because you love them. You never hear them say I love you back. You're waiting for a "thank you" that never comes, but you don’t know that, you just hope that this time they'll say it.

Now imagine yourself older. Not a child, not a teenager, but decidedly not an adult either. In between stages. You do everything that is asked of you. They stopped saying "you'd do this if you loved me" because it is assumed that they said it, and it is true that you do. As they get fuller and happier, you seem to get skinnier and..... No, of course you're happy, you love your sister and stepmother, that's all you need. They tell you that's all you need. Not food, not new clothes, just their love. And you tell yourself that, all you need is their love, but love doesn't stop your stomach from growling. But it does help you scathe off your hunger.

There's a ball that's going all, a ball that the entire kingdom is invited to. In fact, the king WANTS everyone to come to. The reason why falls deaf to your ears, just the mere prospect of putting on fine clothes and leaving this house, only for a moment, makes your insides shake and your head buzz. You spend every waking moment thinking about this ball, saving up pennies and cents to buy the cheapest dress that the tailor offers, counting down the days until you can dance until you can't feel your feet. Your sisters are just as excited as you are, the chance to meet the batchelor prince and seduce him so thoroughly that she would make him marry a commonor is all that they talk about, and you listen to their talk. You aren't quite sure why that's the only thing they're excited for, but you don’t question them because you love them, obviously. Your step mother tells you to run around the town and buy the most expensive dresses that money can buy. She does not give you enough to buy 3 dresses, so you have to use some of your own money to get all 3. Thankfully the store gave you enough credit for you to afford your own dress, a simple plain thing that’s only slightly too big for you, and you ride this happy high all the way home.

The night of the ball comes. You help your sisters and step mother get into their gowns. They give you barely enough time to shimmy into your own, it's almost like they forgot you're coming with them.

They did forget. In fact, they were incredibly shocked when you emerged from the restroom in your dress. And extremely angry. They shout at you, demand to know what you were thinking. You? Going to to the ball? In fucking that?! Please. What nonsense. Someone like you doesn't deserve to go to the ball. Someone like you shouldn't be anywhere near the ball. If you really loved us, you simply wouldn't go.

You watch them leave, tears streaming down your face as you stand on their porch. You were looking forward to this dance.

You go to your mothers grave. Your blood mother, not the one that yelled at you. You cry at her grave, big, sobbing tears that dance over sacred ground. You tell her that you want to go to the ball, desperately. That you want to go, it's your greatest desire, but you can't, you just can't.

A voice on the wind tells you that you dont have to be "you" to go to the ball.

You look around and don't see anyone. You ask how.

The voice responds that you can be anything you want. You can be a Dani, a Alex, a lord, a lady, you can simply choose to be someone else for the night, not the child that your stepmother forbade from going to the ball.

You feel yourself shake. You ask, no demanded, no pleaded how. How can you change, how can you go to the ball?

The voice tells you that all you need to do is ask her to go.

And so you ask her. And the voice tells you that yes, Lady Isabelle can go to the ball, with her one of a kind dress, and a beautiful horse-drawn carriage, and wonderful glass slippers. But, she will only be at the ball until midnight. Do you understand?

And you do. Lady Isabelle understands. And do, Lady Isabelle goes to the ball.

The moment you arrive to the ball, you immediately know its everything you wished for and more. Food that makes you want to eat forever, bright blinding lights that make you forget to blink, music that seems to sweep you onto the dance floor, if you didn't accidentally trip into a very heavy statue you wouldn be sure that you were dreaming.

While you were busy trying to upright the aforementioned very heavy statue, a man walks up to you and asks if you're okay. You assure him that you're okay, you promise, just kinda hurts. He furrows his brow and asks if you're sure you're okay, he can get a doctor if you need one. You laugh, tell him yes, you're sure, but thank you for your consideration.

You and the other strike up a wonderful conversation that seems to go on for aeons. The two of you talk about everything and nothing, about your childhoods and the ball. You admit you have zero idea what this ball is about, and he is utterly baffled by that fact (not as baffled as when you asked him for his name). He tells you his darkest secrets (that he doesn't really like his current profession, and he'd much rather be a gardener). You laugh until you cry (you never knew you could be so happy that you can cry). He then asks you if you want to dance with him. He thanks you when you agree.

He leads you to the middle of the room, twlling you to ignore the whispers you two are getting. You tell him it's hard to ignore being the center of attention, and he shrugs and tells you that you get used to it. Once you get to the middle of the ball room, an announcer tells the crowd that the crown prince has chosen to dance with Lady Isabelle. It takes you a moment to connect the dots. You ask him why didn't he tell you that he's the prince?! He looks sheepish when he tells you that he didn't mean to bamboozle you, he promise, he just... it was a breath of fresh air to find someone that saw him for who he is and not what he was. You immediately forgive him.

You spend hours after that with the prince. Most of it was spent talking and dancing, though when the two of you got tired, Edward (that was the prince's name) would lead you to a hidden room. In one of these hidden rooms, he gives you a look that you've never seen before. He says that he thinks he's in love with you. You smile and wait for a request.

It suddenly dawns on you that he has no request. You ask him if that's all? You just... you think you love me?

He shrugs and says yeah. He thought... Did he misinterpret the signals? It's fine if you don't love him, really, saying it out loud it really does sound insane, to have fallen in love with someone you've known for a few hours, but he's sure he has, and oh god, he sounds like a creep, doesn't he?

You shake your head. No, it's not that, just... you don't want anything from me? Not a errand, not a demand, nothing? You just love me?

He nods.

Why does he say he loves you if he doesn't want anything?

The bell tower strikes 12 times. Lady Isabelle leaves the ball in a hurry, so much so that she doesn't realize she lost her glass heel.

Right as you finish shoving the last fold of your dress up the chimney, your stepmother and sisters come in. They loudly complain about how the prince was too preoccupied with some hussy for her daughter(s) to even talk with him, more or less seduce him. They tell you to help them undress, and they didn't thank you. Not once have they thanked you. You stop wishing for thank yous.

Once Edward discovers that "Lady Isabelle" isn't a legally documented person, he sends out the royal guard to find a woman that even vaguely matches the hazy description he tells them. They find many women, but not you. You've been too busy tending to your stepmothers house to be found. After a month, Edward starts to get desperate. He finds your shoe and starts traveling door to door, looking for the matching pair. Most just point to the fact that it fits their feet as proof she was Lady Isabelle. He never gets mad, but he does get frustrated, from time to time, on his bad days. He has eyes, ma'am, he can tell that you're not Lady Isabelle, though he does appreciate her romantic interest in him.

When Edward comes by your stepmothers house, the other three was in a tizzy. The prince is here, the prince is here! What are you DOING child, go start tidying up! Sweep the floors, dust the bookshelf, and for the love of god, make sure that we're using our finest china!

As the three hastily change into their best clothes, putting on their brightest smile, you ask them if you should get changed as well, since you're still wearing your day to day rags.

Your stepmother laughs. Wear what? That silly little thing that you were planning on wearing to the ball? Nonsense, he’s the prince after all, he only deserves the best! And you simply can't be the best that we have to offer. No go be a dear and go to the kitchen, prepare some tea for us.

You ask her if she loves you.

She has better things to worry about than affection, boy. If you really loved us, you would go make us some tea. Don't leave the prince waiting.

Why was your stepmother shocked when you walked into the room, wearing your simple plain dress, now covered in cinders as you hold your glass slipper in your hands?

Your stepmother tries her best to keep Edward's attention away from you, so does the other two, but it was too late. He saw what he needed to see.

He cries out "Lady Isabelle!" and embraces you, almost making you drop your very precious shoe. He's so, so, so incredibly happy to see you. Overjoyed, if you may. He gets a good, long look at you and smiles.

He admits that you look a bit different now that he can see you in proper lighting. Got your nose wrong. You tell him that he speaks for himself, he looks different as well. Shorter. He tells you that he was wearing heeled shoes, some silly tactic that his mother thought would 'make him more desirable to the ladies'.

He tells you that he's extending a invitation for you to join him at the castle, you and your family. You.... don't have to date him or anything, he just wants to get to know you better. What he said during the ball was true, his love for you hasn't changed, but he understands that you might not feel the same. He only wishes to try and keep an open mind, let him try. If it doesn't work out, that's okay, we can be friends and he will be 100% okay with that, but would you consider it please?

You look back to your "family". Your "home". Home is where the heart is, but you never really had a heart here. You had love, sure, but not a heart. Definitely not a heart.

You tell Edward that you'll accept his offer, but he doesn't need to extend his gift to the whole "family". You'll graciously take this invitation by yourself.

"Alright then Isabelle, right this way."

"Actually Edward, I'd rather you call me Ella, please."

Imagine being a child in a home that doesn't love you. You tried to, desperately tried to, but it hated you more whenever you tried harder to love it. Imagine spending so long in a home that hated you, when you DID find someone that loved you, you forsake everything you once knew for someplace new.

Ella will soon come to learn that you do not need to try to be loved. People will love you, tea or no tea. And she will soon come to know that her love will not be wasted on Edward, for all the years to come.

[unpretty]

hi! I remember seeing you talk about how you did your job search, but could I ask what resources you used for figuring out cover letters (if you did), resumes, and interviews? I've been unemployed the past five years due to illness and am about to start trying to apply for stuff again but the mere act of trying to recall how to do all this stuff has hit the panic button in my brain so I'm like, hm maybe it is time to ask people about their experiences and resources and such!

i am honestly the worst person to ask because i was actually pretty happy at my retail job (i was a night stocker so i just did repetitive tasks for seven hours while listening to audiobooks and not talking to anyone lmao) and i deliberately did not do more than the bare minimum when applying for my current job because i didn't want anything that required more than a bare minimum of effort

i have actually put forth effort for multiple other jobs since then and it. hasn't worked out. :/ although i guess i did make a resume/cover letter for my stepdad and they were super enthused about his excellent resume so what gives.

anyway. for my current job i just put my info on indeed and it popped a notification when an accounting job showed up nearby. then i hit the apply button and did basically nothing else. for my other jobs i just kept linkedin updated and people ended up hitting me up (for jobs i then DIDN'T GET *shakes fist* (i am telling myself it's because they couldn't afford me it's fine i'm fine))

anyway. leave out the part about being unemployed. you've been self-employed. they can't prove you weren't. did you write garbage articles for a content mill, or mturk? congrats, you were a freelance copywriter. took internet surveys? consumer research consultant. YOU WERE CONSULTED AS PART OF SOMEONE'S RESEARCH INTO CONSUMERS, IT'S NOT LYING. also you can just lie. anyway employers consider unemployment a red flag and as someone who was self-employed for a long time the only verification anyone does is checking your references. as long as you know some guys it's fine.

i had a shitton of resume templates from my years of downloading creativemarket freebies. that isn't really an option anymore but you could probably use a canva template. don't use one with your picture, that's weird actually. i don't know why so many templates include a headshot location. i usually make a personal logo to stick there instead because i think it looks cool. i also have a lot of free logo templates.

make sure to tailor your resume to the job you're applying to. if you're applying for a clerical position then you can probably leave out that you're good with SQL but mention experience with filing and if you know how to mail merge in word. that sort of thing. try to get your resume down to one page if you can. they don't need all the details, just a highlight reel. making it too long gives them more crap to have to sort through to figure out what they care about. job listings usually have certain keywords you can latch on to.

cover letters are generally just "here is how i heard about your position, here are the things about your listing and your company that interest me (this will probably include many lies), and here are the reasons i think i can help you". remember that they have a problem (needing someone to do the job) that you are offering to solve (because you can do the job).

i fucking suck at interviews. i think the only interview i did well at was one where i looked up common interview questions and practiced so i wouldn't totally blank out and forget my own name. i felt like a tool doing it but clearly i need it because otherwise. i will forget my own fucking name.

[sanstropfremir]

✨🎥! Forgot to say, I have a wedding in April but no dress/suit/clothes. I’m desperately looking but every single day I’m more disappointed in the quality of the fashion industry. Even the most basic thing is shit quality and cost 5 times what it should. So yeah, if anyone has recommendations on clothes (not necessarily for weddings or events, but in general) that are good quality, let me know

i know how you feel, affordable decent clothing is fucking impossible right now. honestly my best advice is thrifting/secondhand. idk what the situation for that is like in spain so maybe it's not possible, but it's always worth a shot, especially if you've already been looking for a while. it does obvs take more time than shopping new bc you have to sift through racks, but you're more likely to get a good find of better quality for a more reasonable price. my general thrifting advice (honestly this applies to any clothes shopping also) is first look for the colour and shape that you like, and then look at the material content. this is very important. do not look at brand that means nothing. always always always check the material content on the tags. ideally you want to be looking for garments that have 100% natural fibres; wool, cotton, silk, linen, rayon/viscose (yes it is natural despite the name). if you can't find 100% than something with an 80/20 ratio or more (to the natural side) can also be a safer bet, but my rule of thumb is the more polyester is in a garment, the worse it is in every way.

my general advice for wedding attire is unless you need black tie, don't worry about trying to find a full suit or a really fancy dress you're only gonna wear once. get a good pair of dark formal trousers (black/grey/navy), wear a dress shirt or a formal blouse, and throw on a nice tailored jacket that's in the same colour family. is it technically only semi-formal? yes, but who does true formal weddings and actually cares about sartorial rules. in this economy? psh. some visual aids:

it's a great combo for any 'events you have to look nice at' because you only have to buy individual pieces, you don't have to buy them all at the same time, and they can be reused for other events. just find out what the colour theme of the event is and get yourself a shirt or tie/pocket square/scarf/other accessory in that colour and you're good to go. also do not forget a good pair of shoes. this is also very important; always have a good pair of shoes.

hopefully this helps! i'm sorry i don't have better recommendations on where to actually go to buy stuff/what to buy, but i haven't shopped new in......quite a long time. but at least having some tips to go by should help. and tbh sometimes you do gotta cough up the money.....BUT only ever cough up the money for something that is 100% natural fibre and is a piece that will get use outside of a single event. otherwise you just gotta be patient and keep looking; if you are patient things have a way of coming to you.

[thecrownedred]

White Rabbit's Crown

one.

"The love of your life awaits you in the deepest part of the hell you never believed in."

I always observe. The thing about me is, when I do that, people tend to mistaken it for some cruel stupidity that the elites are exclusively allowed to do so, but it's not. I am not one to compare with. I am better than them. Come on.

Scaly face. Vertical green eyes disguised as british blue eyes, or hazelnut if they're mixed. Royals? No, fucking shape shifters. I'd like to call them that. Friendly fire?

I call that unexclusiving yourself, if that's a word. I'm an off-screen writer, that should be a word.

Love is nothing in their faces. It's like a splash of water you get when you're at a pool party trying to enjoy yourself with a shot of patron when some rubbish garbage decides to do cannon-ball beside you to impress your not-so-perfectly sober sisters. Completely brushes it off. Basically a one night stand. That's what they believe.

Man, what if the shitshow is hell itself? This family. Everybody against everybody. Geez, give this young man a break.

"Here is your breakfast, your highness. You'll have no events, ceremonies, or tea parties to attend today." Acting like I do exist now? Why would I even bother to come in the first place?

"Your sister is covering for you. The archery field is open for you if you want to stop by."

A full english breakfast. With no beans. Too much grease, I wont need it.

Still no real conversation with the helpers. Are they even real humans or what? Too bad the government made them earn these characteristics. It's not unique at all, like at least make one of them do some personal handshakes with you or add bugs to your already perfect maple pancakes. American style.

I push the tray away, just like I always do. Didn't even get any sleep because well my in-law is in 'search' for making my sister feel better after a suitor spilled some coffee on her high-tailored baby blue dress she had always dreamed of. I could bet my great-grandfather's preserved skull in the museum, she will be turning to me, taking two hours off of my reading day. I don't have problems with it, however, time is money. Money is time. And based on my study on my own family's history, no one from my bloodline is one to be blamed for. I know what I am capable of doing and I'm not afraid to do them to my in-laws because to be frank, I never approved at allㅡShit. My doings.

Thank God it's not the 18th century because I get to drive my own car anywhere I want.

But where the fuck did I put the keys?

Geez, and this coat is too fucking heavy, abusing the stamina of your body to hide a rotting body? I'm in a kidney-pain level of not fit, why does the universe keep pushing me to do this?

Secret garage. Cliche. Could've used what my grandfather gave to me last summer to hide them but unfortunately the mansion is in Switzerland.

I scrunch my nose as the familiar rotting smell entered my nose. Not sure If I'm glad I trimmed my nose hair this morning or not, was just testing a friend's product. But clearly,

"Fucking hell.."

The only product I need right now is two and a half gallons of bleach and probably a handmade italian meat grinder created just for your daily spaghetti meatballs. Probably should tell Mr. Finch, the family butler, if only he wasn't a snitch. He's kinda self-explanatory I guess.

I kneeled down, the smell, christ, been doing this for years yet can't stand a week-and-two-days-old corpse? Well, in my murdering spree 'career' which gets me nowhere, I had never left a body for this long period of time. Well now look at this brownish astonishing marinara sauce, completely homemade, fucking dead woman's blood combined with her melting inner fluids. How could I have forgotten?

No, how could I murder someone I loved? Jane Servemore. Her €23,000 dior lipstick she never brags about is still visible right underneath those broken skin tissues. Of course she can afford it, the daughter of the Jace and Mill Servemore, supposedly, the founder of the next Chanel. Maybe I should watch TV more, that way, I would not forget that I murdered a woman in a bunker over a 'simple' affair and that she is indeed missing, and I know where she is.

You know, Jane? You could've fixed my bloodline with just a runway show in Paris but you chose to fuck that designer knowing damn well I don't like sharing anything. This proves to me she never listens to what I say, and why should I when she screams for her life at the top of her lungs?

Good fucking evening. I'm finished. Took me half of the day to get rid of her guts, yuck. I should really punish myself for making me in the future go through shits he didn't want to go through.

At least a cold shower helps after a long day because now the warmth of the library is indeed getting into me. It gets you right in the mood, you know? A cup of tea, read a few pages of Patricia Cornwell's tenth book of the Kay Scarpetta series Black Notice, and no one to interrupt your reading. You know, this is the great side of being left abandoned by your late father aside from being inside the family that rules the country.

No one knows or dare to care who the fuck you are.

"Sorry to bother, do you have Ruth Rendell?"

My eyes never shot up at this pace before it actually hurt. Ruth Rendell? Psychotic woman, I see.

"Certainly, but all we got left is The Brimstone Wedding and A Dark-Adapted Eye. It is on the right corner rack right there."

Right, my direction. I read those things, not that I'm ashamed of it.

Medium brown hair, long eyelashes, dark but subtle lipstick, almost no makeup. She is indeed one to imply her efforts, half-tired eyes, probably comes from writing journals about how decomposing a dead body should start with removing their teeth and nails, if she's even a journalist and a feminist. Feminists love dark romance, don't they?

Also sleeve gloves? Is she an official? A witch, perhaps. Ha! That was a good one.

I need to look away. Appear natural.

The corner of my eyes reads that she is choosing the Brimstone Wedding one. A woman that likes to torture her own mentality, to cope, I suppose? That's brilliant.

I finally made eye contact with her as she sat down across my spot. Hazelnut brown eyes, she's a country's gift. A trophy. She might be as old as I am. A 27 year old writer? A journalist? Or judging by her hand placement on the book and her purse, public speaking, to be precise. Balanced it well. A news anchor? Is that why her face is so familiar?

"Would appreciate it if you give a bit more attention to your book, really." Shit.

"I apologize." I clear my throat because I am a loner rich nobleman, at least that's what my family made me become.

"Your voice is nice," There. I complimented her. It's probably too straightforward but she had already caught me checking her out already.

I breathe the air in, she enters. Chanel Coco Mademoiselle. Jane hated this, she said it smelt too musky. But I loved it, it matches her energy, not Jane. The universe brought me to her.

I could feel her eyes on me so I stared back, and I was right, she looked horrified, no, mortified. Great job, your highness or whatever. It was a moment of silence, her mouth parted as she was trying to build up a sentence to respond to my stupid compliment. Maybe I shouldn't have bitten anything. I'm starting to think that I should've eaten the full english breakfast today.

"Your voice isn't bad either," She pauses, fixing her position. Maybe not mortified, nervous? "Could be an F1 commentator, or the driver I must say from your looks."

Did she just call me fit? Impressive I must say for eating greasy things for breakfast and chips for lunch. Just like that she continued reading her Ruth Rendell, no expressions, so that's probably sarcasm. Not interested in me one bit. She called me loud too with that commentator thing. Quite arrogant, don't you think?

Anyways, I made my way through two pages in under five minutes while talking to a woman, how dare I do that yet still spend the whole day just to get rid of one person. The math never adds up. But hey, this book's quite better than comparing the shits you do with reading.

"Being evil is universal, including the ones who serve the law and the ones who break it. Is that what you're seeking?"

Damn. I just read that line a minute ago. She's most definitely a journalist. Or a fortune-teller?

"Everyone is evil, don't you think?" She closed her book, to debate with me? Nice, a political woman. Did she go through a divorce?

"No, if that's the case our country would be such a mess." Smart. Straightforward. Blunt. She doesn't think of others when she talks because apparently she addresses her false points better than the truth. Also, our country's like this because someone like her wouldn't know who I am. Good though, serves me peace, serves the country peace. Political, like her. Maybe we connect in some way.

"Well, everyone knows their boundaries as well as the others." I close my book too, if she wants to debate, I'll do it. "I bet if we stay the old-fashioned way, there'll just be drunken noblemen up your door threatening you to invent something new or else his butler will have you decapitated in some kind of way."

"Okay now, that is another case. If we're talking about our country right here, don't you think it's being ruled by some brainwashed elites creating their own beliefs? Terrible people." I smiled at that as I leaned back to the sofa, she has a way of talking.

Her phone rang which she then picked up, a woman of work. Workaholic? She even stands up and walks away to answer that call. A rare sighting in Hanover, honestly. What if she makes more money than I do? I might be the one doing the dishes if we were ever marriedㅡOkay no, too far.

It didn't take me long enough to realize how my eyes had followed her figure through the bookshelves. Is the phone call so important?

"For the love of God, I said tosca, not jade! How can we do the exhibition tomorrow if the light is not on the theme, Stefan?!" And she left, leaving her Ruth Rendell open on page 51. Huh, a gallerist? I got it all.. wrong. The first time I read someone wrong.

"Here's the hibiscus tea for your lovely wife, sir."

Geez, jumpscare. She ordered something? Hibiscus tea? Does this woman smoke?

"Ah, thank you very much. Is it paid for?" There's no way she leaves me here to pay for her drink which she hasn't drank because apparently, some work urgency. Ugh, her watch is still here too.

Fossil. She is a workaholic.

"No, do you perhaps want the bill?" Great. No, really. This is great. Moving on takes years or even decades for some people, I say they're weak for not being able to accept what they are and move on. Talking from someone who had just disposed of his ex-girlfriend's body into a meat grinder, it clearly wasn't easy.

"Sure."

I took the amusingly smaller watch in my pocket, but yet just the right size for her slender wrist. Not proud of what I'm doing. It doesn't mean that I'm a bad person, right? I did everything I could, and Jane Servemore chose to ignore that. I did not want to hurt her, it's a form of love, at least the one that I had always believed in.

And maybe this time, I'll give her the form of love she wants. Whatever you desire for, Ms. Gallerist.

[yokohamapound]

YES! Let’s celebrate our fav short king! 👑 (be prepared to be flooded since i have to many ideas an nowhere to put them XD)

Anyways what would his ideal date be? Location, theme etc. What would he do to really impress someone? How do we know when he’s genuinely interested in someone? Basically dating HCs for our fav!

I meant to post a bunch of Chuuya stuff yesterday buuut I fell asleep as soon as I got home from work. Better late than never!

Characters: Nakahara Chuuya

Contents: gender neutral reader

Nakahara Chuuya

When Chuuya thinks "date", his mind immediately goes to a dinner in some swanky restaurant, with a wine list that reads like a royal genealogy and waiters swooping around like tuxedo'd ghosts. He's thinking candlelight, fancy food, immediately followed by a night of raucous dancing (both actual dancing and the horizontal kind).

Outside of his (admittedly not many) romantic relationships, most of his knowledge of romance comes from films, books, and advice from Kouyou. He leans toward the "sweep you off your feet" variety. At least at first.

He's kind of flexing, putting on a show and dazzling you with his wealth and his good taste and his knowledge of the finer things in life. This is how he treats you when he starts dating you, when he's really playing it safe. Not that there's anything wrong with a lavish dinner date, but there are other, exciting levels to Chuuya you're yet to discover.

If he really wants to impress you, he'll take you to places that are normally off limits to members of the public. I don't mean anything in Port Mafia territory, because he absolutely does not show off about his position. In fact, he won't even tell you what he does for a living for a few months.

"Yeah, it's just an executive position. I'd bore us both just talkin' about it."

He'll use his money or his power to take you on top of the Yokohama Bay Bridge at night, so you can stand up there amid the lights and look out over the city. He'll get you an exclusive performance of the ballet you could never afford to go to. He'll take you into an expensive department store after hours and buy you anything you lay eyes on.

The early days of dating Nakahara Chuuya are a thrill ride. It's like Wattpad story, seriously. He doesn't know it, but he's literally walked out of the pages of a CEO billionaire romance, minus the creepy stalker tendencies and poor BDSM representation…

-Pepa voice- But!

Dating Chuuya also has a make it or break it point—when you find out that he's a member of the Port Mafia. He'll play it careful, feeling you out before he tells you. Both for his own sake as well as yours. He can't have you running and blabbing his secrets to all and sundry, and he doesn't want you doing anything that would get you in shit with the mafia.

Once you've passed that Chuuya Event Horizon, you'll start seeing more of the guy underneath the tailored clothes (literally) and the fast cars and the black card. Dates can get more lowkey.

Night time drives through the countryside, Chuuya behind the wheel, his face outlined in the dim lights from the dashboard, music pumping from the speakers as he guides the car along tight, winding country roads. Windows open a crack to let the wind whip your hair.

Invites back to his apartment to watch a movie and eat takeout, sprawled on his couch and barely talking, just vibing in each other's company.

Coffee and walking through the park.

Running errands together in his free time.

This isn't a sign of his waning interest but one of his growing comfort. He still loves to take you out and spoil you, but if Chuuya shows up wearing jeans and a hoodie to go grocery shopping with you, that means he really fucking likes you.

[jenomark]

➔Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Smut ➔Warnings: Oral (F+M) + Penetration (F) + Cursing ➔Word count: 3,659

➔Summary: Two realtors who play together, stay together. Whenever you and Jaehyun work together, you make a little bit of a mess in the homes you're trying to sell for your clients. After all, no one ever said you couldn't have a little fun on the job.

“Your boyfriend is so charming.”

You were showing a married couple around a brand new house, built in a neighborhood they most likely could not afford. While the husband was checking out how the door handles jiggled on every door in the place, his wife leaned in close to your ear, her voice deeper than the fake customer service voice she had in the beginning of the tour.

You could hear the accusatory tone, her words felt through every layer of your reserve, “How did you get a man like that?”

If she could have circled around you, like a huntress ready to take her prey out, she would have taken the chance. You held your ground, so used to the way women acted around Jaehyun. But there was a certain amount of fun to be had when you were bored and waiting, your day's work blemished by couples who believed they were hot shit.

“Just between me and you,” you purred, leaning in closer to her and stroking her arm with your finger. “He’s not my boyfriend. We just like to fuck each other at work."

You never blamed any of the women for looking at Jaehyun like he was a prized hog in a show. He was handsome on the outside, his face so valentine sweet, his smile disarming even the most hardened of ladies. He wore a tailored suit nicely, too, which made the effect that much cavity-inducing. On the inside, though, he was a filthy, filthy man, and he would never go for someone like the wife, as much as she wanted him to.

No, Jaehyun wasn’t your boyfriend. Jaehyun wasn’t even your partner. He came to the house dressed up in the part of a wholesome realtor, his eyes following the wife across the room, forcing eye contact that would make her feel warm underneath her collared blouse. He did it because it was fun for him. He did it because he could.

It was a game. Jaehyun eye-fucked the wife to tease you. He liked when you wore jealousy like a proud bib. He waited for you to take possession of him, which you always did in the subtlest of ways. Watching the wife back away from you after claiming that you and Jaehyun fucked- a tale met with disbelief- was a way to piss all over your territory.

That's mine.

Of course, you could have pushed Jaehyun harder. In doing so, the husband of the pair was a viable conquest. He looked at you with his dumb look when you ran your hand up your stockinged thigh, his jaw slack as you hiked up your skirt inappropriately and unprofessionally high.

However, it wasn’t very fun for you. You could tell the husband was too in love with his wife to ever flirt with you. You gave up quickly, your annoyance waving like a red flag whenever the wife breathed in your direction.

“Are you almost done, sweetie?” you called out to Jaehyun.

“Yes, sweetheart.” Jaehyun said, sticking his head out of a doorway.

You shot a look at the wife, her full attention on Jaehyun as he walked towards you both. She might as well have started taking off her clothes where she stood. She was fanning herself with her hand and wiping sweat from between her cleavage, the telling signs of someone who really wanted to know Jaehyun's cock felt like.

“Your husband is insisting on checking every nook and cranny of this place.” Jaehyun said, a brilliant smile stretched across his face. “I keep telling him there is no need. You won't find a place like this in the city.”

“I’m sorry for his behavior.” the wife said. “He does this all of the time. Nothing is ever good enough for him.”

“I can’t blame him.” Jaehyun said, his eyes roaming down the legs of the wife. “We men love being thorough.”

You slapped a hand against Jaehyun’s chest and tugged on his tie, hoping it would tighten against his throat. “We should get going soon, don’t you think, Jaehyun?”

“Oh, I think we can spare a few minutes, baby.”

The wife was completely ignoring the fact that you were in the room. She took a step towards Jaehyun, batting her eyelashes and pushing out her sweaty breasts. Jaehyun ate up the attention, his eyes practically fucking her right in front of you.

“You are absolutely shameless.” you said, walking away.

You walked through the fully furnished and staged home, finding the husband in the downstairs bathroom (one of three in the house). He wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t really your type. Still, he gave you the attention that made it easy for you to ignore all of that. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

“Like what you see?” you asked, moving one leg out in front of you so that your skirt rode up. “With the house, I mean.”

“Yeah.” he said. “Might be out of our price range. I'll have to check.”

You walked further into the bathroom, your heels click-clacking on the tile. It took only a few seconds for Jaehyun to find you, like it was a mating call, appearing in the bathroom doorway looking relaxed and ready to fuck. You knew the wife was soon to follow, a look of disappointment on her face that Jaehyun didn’t stick around to flirt with her.

You often wondered what women were thinking when caught with alone time involving Jaehyun. Were they imagining him bending them over the kitchen sink and fucking them? Did they think they were special, that he would sneak away from his dull job for an illicit affair with them? You could be sure that they were mentally undressing him, that they were not at all in tune to the fact that Jaehyun, in the end, only had eyes for you.

“If my girl here hasn’t sold you on the house, we would be delighted to show you to others on another date and time.” Jaehyun suggested.

Jaehyun’s words were final. He wanted them to leave immediately, to take their shit and go. You could hear the sour puss in his voice, the slight quiver in sound. He threw his arm around the wife and brought her closer to him. He let a smile consume him, one that made you grit your teeth. The four of you walked out of the bathroom quarters together, back to the open plan living room to discuss things further.

“You smell wonderful.” Jaehyun murmured to the wife of the pair. He let her go. “Anyway, the price isn't negotiable, but we’ll see what we can do if it’s what you really want. You may have to extend your budget further. If not, there are always others, like I said.”

The wife and husband agreed that the house would never be in their budget before leaving. The husband checked out your tits, and the wife cast one last longing look at Jaehyun over her shoulder, her pink tongue sensually gliding along her lower lip. With a serene smile, Jaehyun shut the door behind them, shutting the world out from you and him.

“You could have charmed the panties off of her.” you said, crossing your arms against your chest.” Pretty sure she would have blown you in front of the fridge if you had stood in the kitchen any longer.”

“Is that why you walked away?” Jaehyun said. “Scared of the competition?”

“Please.” you said. “I just really wanted to get fingerbanged by the husband over the toilet.”

“I can make that a reality.” Jaehyun smirked.

You walked into the kitchen and sat on a stool, smiling to yourself when Jaehyun followed you like a dog. “It’s not fair what you do to them.”

Jaehyun held on to either side of the stool and kept his face inches from yours. “You’re just angry because I win every time.”

“The husband always loves his wife too much.”

“And the wife is always ready to get fucked raw.” Jaehyun said. "By yours truly, of course."

“Maybe I should just start fucking the wife.” you said, peeling Jaehyun’s fingers from the stool.

“I would very much like that.”

“I know you would.” you said, pushing him away.

Jaehyun was pushed back feet from you. He yanked at his tie until it was loosely hanging around his neck. He ran a hand through his sandy brown hair, the ends sticking straight up in some places. You watched him, knowing it was what he wanted. You could see his chest hair peeking out from between the now unbuttoned portion of his dress shirt. The heat began to cover your body like a warm blanket of sin, as you thought about tangling your tongue up in those hairs.

“I can feel you on my skin, even though you haven’t touched me yet.” he whispered.

Jaehyun rolled his neck around, cracking it in some places. When his eyes met yours, the shade of brown appeared somewhat darker. You could feel that look rolling all the way down your stomach until it settled in its depths, curling up in itself. Your nerves felt shot, your confidence gone.

“Doesn’t it just feel so good to give in to me?” Jaehyun asked, his voice a little rough. “Don’t you want to play with me in this big, bad house?”

He came to you, only stopping by the length of your knees. He tucked his fingers underneath your chin and brought your eyesight up to his. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. He let his palm run smoothly down your throat, giving it a little squeeze. Your body was unmoving underneath his touch. Sometimes, you would absolutely vibrate with pleasure when Jaehyun touched you. Other times, you would become still like a steel fortress in the wind, wanting him to work a little for your affection, to open up your doors to him like an open house.

The house was empty, but so full at the same time. Jaehyun got down on his knees in a moment of submission, his head down like he was praying. He hugged you, his arms resting on your thighs, his whole being in your lap. It lasted less than a minute until he was back on his feet, a rare sweetness in his eyes as the rest of his body became unfamiliar and rigid.

“Stand up.” he said, his voice cold, the sound of it rattling through the bones of the house. Though there was a faint grin on his lips and a playful eyebrow raised, Jaehyun wasn’t allowing himself to be played with anymore.

You were not quick enough. He took you by the sides of your shoulders and pulled you from the stool. Your knees buckled but Jaehyun caught you in time, the move making your nipples harden. He could see the reaction through your work shirt, your two little buds staring him in the face. All you wanted was for him to touch you, but he wouldn't.

It was fun playing the game with him, since you two were so alike. There were times when you dominated Jaehyun, making him eat you out and cum before the new couples would arrive at the house. If he failed, he would be punished and have to do something embarrassing for him. If he passed, you would both be in a great mood and would usually get a house sold. Then, like now, there were times when Jaehyun took control, which would usually be followed by a lack of sales disappointment. You could always feel those times coming, the excitement unable to be contained.

Jaehyun took your hand and whisked you off through parts of the house where he knew prying eyes wouldn’t find you. He ran up the stairs eagerly, tugging you along behind him, not bothering to see if you were tripping up.

“The master suite.” Jaehyun said, stopping in front of a door. “Wait here.”

He left you standing in front of the closed door for over five minutes. You kept checking the time on your phone, your eyes roaming up and down every detail of the white, wooden door. If he was trying to tantalize you, it was working. You were very impatient, trying your best not to bust through the door and hop right on his dick.

“Come in.” Jaehyun said.

You held onto the handle, the image of the husband jiggling that very handle less than an hour ago fresh on your mind.

“I won’t tell you twice.” Jaehyun said.

You opened the door and saw Jaehyun sitting on the edge of a model bed. He had stripped it of the crisp sheets and fluffy pillows that were adorning it. He was shirtless and his dress pants were unbuttoned, his brown leather belt hanging by his sides.You drank him in like that, the impatience waning away.

“Come closer.” he said.

“So bossy.” you smiled.

You walked closer. Since you knew that you affected him as much as he affected you, every step felt delicious. You stood in front of him, ready to rip your business skirt off if he just said the magic words.

“Good girl.” he said, standing up.

He was looming over you, the heat from his body making you hot. You wanted to press your hands to his sweaty chest and push him down onto the bed. You wanted to bite his shoulder so hard that it made him cry out. You wanted to sit on that strong jaw, rocking your body over him until he was suffocating.

“Look me in the eyes,” he said. “Don’t look at my body, like I’m a piece of meat.”

“A little bit of disobedience never hurt anyone.” you said, meeting his eyes.

It was difficult to keep your eyes trained on his when you could hear him unzipping his pants. Each click of the teeth made your clit throb, like his tongue was already gliding over it. You could hear his pants falling down to his ankles, and from the corner of your eye, could see him shift slightly to step out of them until he was naked. With your imagination, you thought of him stroking his cock, pumping his fist up and down his shaft.

“Are you with me?” Jaehyun breathed. “Be with me right now.”

You nodded as the sounds of him masturbating heightened. Jaehyun moaned and let his eyes disconnect from yours. Though he was looking down at his cock, you were looking at the top of his pretty head. There were thousands of hairs you could tug and pull to get him to comply, to have him give you his cock. You could feel the tip of him and his fist rubbing against you as he made it upwards, each stroke nearly punching you, because he was so close.

You looked down, the top of your head skimming his. He was going at it slowly, moving his body like he was fucking his own fist. It was so sexy that you could feel all the nerves in your body tingling. Though his pleasure didn't happen to you, you could feel every grain of it. You breathed heavily with him, your body going through the build up with Jaehyun.

Your eyes met him again. Yours were, no doubt, asking him why he was being so cruel. It took a minute for him to stop, for Jaehyun to set his mouth in a grim line, and to cock his head and look lost in thought.

“This isn’t about you.” he said. “This isn’t about your pleasure. On your knees and put my cock in your mouth. Don’t stop sucking until I say.”

As you got slowly to your knees, your lips slid down his stomach, your kisses rushed before he could decline them. You grabbed hold of his cock, the tip of him resting on your bottom lip before you looked up at him. He held your side of the neck before moving to the back of your head and forcing his cock down your throat until your eyes watered.

Fucking in a place that didn’t belong to you was thrilling. The owners could come back any second and catch you in the act. There could be cameras installed, or nosy neighbors coming to check up on the people who owned the lone car that sat in the driveway.

“Is it good?” Jaehyun asked, his voice velvety smooth. "How do I taste?"

You sucked his cock without stopping, testing him with both lips, tongue, and fingers. You brought him back so far into your throat that you choked and took him out with a string of saliva. You swallowed that, too, so grateful to have him in any of your holes.

Jaehyun pulled his cock out and teased himself back inside of your mouth slowly. You let your jaw hang open and laid your tongue flat while he fucked your face. You gripped his thighs and let your fingernails dig into him before he came on your tongue, grabbing a handful of your hair at release.

When he ordered you to stand up, he was still leaking. He wasn’t stopping for anyone, not even when you made a show of wiping his cum off of your chin with your finger and slipping it into your mouth.

"It tastes yummy." you said.

“Clothes off,” Jaehyun said, ignoring you. “Kneel on the bed.”

He wasn’t losing his erection. He treated his cock like it was delicate, holding it in his hands and stroking it gently. You watched him as you stripped, taking a little too long with the stockings. Jaehyun ended up ripping them from your legs and tossing them aside. Without saying another word, he grabbed your ankles and pulled you down to the edge of the bed, nearly making you faceplant on the mattress.

“Fuck.” you whispered, your body jerking in surprise as Jaehyun started eating you out from behind.

He wasn’t shy about it either. He was licking you, moving his head side to side and up and down, just to get every bit of you. His lips were so warm and you were so wet, that you had to sink your upper half onto the bed and place your forehead against your arm. Jaehyun squeezed your ass cheeks and pushed you forward, his tongue lapping up all of your wetness.

You didn’t want to break, to crumble. You wanted to be strong and not moan or give in completely. You didn’t want to let him know that he could bring you down with just a lick, but it was hard not to.

“Beg me.” Jaehyun said, coming up for air.

He smacked your ass and you turned around until you were on your back. It was rough and forceful, and it turned you on. Jaehyun kissed your ankle before moving his lips down your thigh.

“Beg me.” he repeated. “Fucking do it now.”

The hotness on your inner thigh as his mouth got higher was enough to make you call his name. “Please, Jaehyun.” you said. “Don’t stop.”

Jaehyun ate you out, slipping his fingers inside of you. He would occasionally stop and kiss his way up your body to leave hickeys on your neck, and catch glimpses of your face to see if you were enjoying it.

“Not about my pleasure, huh?” you asked, nearly laughing.

Jaehyun groaned. “Don’t ruin it.”

“Too late.” you said, moaning as he fingered you. “You smell like her.”

You kissed his neck and got the bite you wanted from his shoulder. You held him against you, making sure your scent was all over him. His mouth tasted like you, though. You kept kissing him and grabbing at his hands to make sure they didn’t stop fucking you. You were a tangle of bare limbs, holding him against you, and fighting for dominance.

Jaehyun lifted his fingers from your pussy and held himself up over you. He looked you in your eyes, his gaze falling to your lips before he kissed them. He moved his body and slipped his cock inside of you, knocking the air from your mouth.

Missionary position was not your favorite. It was too romantic, not as wild. You wanted him to break your back, to bend you into positions that made your legs wobble the next day. You wanted risk. You wanted it rough. But having Jaehyun’s weight on top of you in that way felt different. You let him move over you, holding your hips as he drilled himself inside of you.

It didn’t last long until you were wanting to flip him over, until you could be on top and ride him. Jaehyun smirked when he realized what you were doing and said, “I don’t think so.”

He leaned up until his sweaty body wasn’t clinging to yours anymore. He spread your thighs apart after pulling you closer to him. He let you get a good view of his cock disappearing inside of you.

“This pussy is mine.” he said, touching his fingers to your clit. “Say it’s mine.”

“It’s mine.” you said.

Jaehyun fucked you faster, his cock hitting your cervix a little rougher. You winced at the discomfort you quite liked, immediately wanting him to keep fucking you deeper.

“Say it.” he said, moaning with each thrust.

“Or what?” you challenged, breathlessly trying to hold yourself together.

Jaehyun gripped your wrists and brought them above your head. He got close to you again, his body smothering yours, and his cock fucking you in a way that was too good to stop.

“I’m yours.” you said. “It’s yours. All of it is yours.”

He smiled when he got what he wanted, the same charming smile that seemed to have most women on tenterhooks, wondering if they would give them something else of his. Jaehyun never would, though, because everything of his was also yours.