#silencing the self critic

[the-golden-comet]

✨Thankful Thursday✨

Hello writers, artists, musicians, and creative minds alike! 💫

I want to take this day to give thanks to all you wonderful people. As artists, storycrafters, composers, and humans…it can be easy to lose sight of your love and passion when your brain is your worst critic.

I’ve been creating art and stories for a while now, but kept everything private because the Imposter Syndrome side of me kept saying: “I’m not good enough.”

I want to let you all know: That side of you is a bully, only existing to hold you back from your highest potential. For every self-critic your mind creates, manifest a self-advocate to shut them down.

“Yes, I AM good enough. I have important stories, art, music, and culture to share with the world, and I’m not gonna let you dampen my spirits.”

Life gets busy. That’s understandable. I had A LOT going on that kept me occupied since 2014. Now that I’m married, settled into a routine, and activities have slowed down a bit, I can focus on my hobbies again. And man, am I so glad I did.

You are all wonderful. I can’t ever thank you all enough for your kindness, your energy, and your imaginative spirits. Keep writing, keep drawing, keep composing, keep creating, keep inspiring.

The world needs more motivated minds. 💫

[viperwhispered]

Indulgence

Jamil finds out his sweet, loving girlfriend is totally capable of absolutely ruining him.

Pure smut, written with fem reader in mind and utterly self-indulgent (basically, a birthday treat to myself).

Ngl, this kinda feels like a femdom love letter to Jamil.

You'd thought you were joking - partially, at least - when you told Jamil you’d be happy to have him all for yourself to do with him as you wished for your birthday. Yet Jamil, the perceptive partner he was, soon was teasing out the truth of that statement from you.

So, after some rather in-depth discussions, here you are, filled with anticipation and excitement - and, you have to admit, more than a bit of nerves. Wanting something and actually going through with it always are two very different things.

“Come on, love. Just enjoy yourself, however you wish,” Jamil coaxes you, cupping your cheeks as he peppers your face with soft kisses. He’s looking at you with such openness - eagerness, even - which makes it difficult for you to get lost in your own head.

So, instead you wrap your arms around Jamil's shoulders and nuzzle your face to his, a soft smile rising to your lips.

“Someone certainly seems intent on treating me today,” you say, your own lips seeking contact with Jamil’s skin.

“Knowing how excited you are by the idea… Can you blame me?” Jamil replies with a cheeky grin. All you can do is chuckle in response, a smirk of your own forming on your lips.

“Well… Let’s hope you won't regret enabling me,” you say playfully.

Your lips finally find Jamil’s, meeting his with a soft, building pressure. You tug him closer by his hoodie, your tongue pushing between Jamil's lips and one of your hands seeking his hair. Jamil eagerly reciprocates your actions, the softness giving way to something more eager as you both deepen the kiss, your bodies pressing closer together and hands exploring.

Your eyes flutter closed as you breathe in through your nose, enjoying the way Jamil's mouth moves with yours, how your bodies are already fitting together. After a while, however, you begin to nudge Jamil backwards towards the bed, your lips still lingering against his.

It’s delightful how easily he complies, letting you guide his steps until his shins hit the edge of the bed. A gentle press of your palms onto his shoulders and Jamil’s eyes widen with momentary surprise as he falls back with a breathy oomph.

Still, Jamil’s quick to pull you down with him, grinning as you climb onto his lap and straddle his hips. Jamil’s hands slide up along your waist, your dress bunched up around your legs.

You brace yourself with one arm, your palm on the mattress right above Jamil’s shoulder, and you lean over him. You brush your fingers along his jaw, slowly tracing the contours of Jamil’s face.

“So you’re mine to enjoy as I wish tonight, huh?” you say in a low, almost contemplative tone, your thumb tracing the outline of Jamil’s lower lip.

“Yes.” There’s a slight breathlessness to Jamil’s tone, his eyes a little darker than usual, and you relish the sight of him already being affected.

Of course, this is just the beginning - but a good beginning, nonetheless, easily helping you feel more bold.

“Hmm, I suppose then the question is… Just what do I want to do with you first?” you murmur, your tone lowering to a more sensual, husky register.

You slide your thumb up, over the plumpness of Jamil’s lower lip, and press down gently. After the briefest moment of surprised hesitation he parts his lips for you and wraps his tongue around the digit, sucking on it lightly.

You’re not quite expecting the rush of warmth that shoots to your core. Jamil beneath you, his hair spilled over the bed, those gray eyes so intently trained on you as he obediently sucks on your thumb… Oh, it’s already so heady, making your mind and heart race.

“Mmm, look at you, being so good for me,” you purr. You keep your thumb in his mouth for a moment longer, enjoying the darkening of Jamil’s cheeks and the way his eyes flick over to the side even as his mouth slowly continues working.

Soon you drag your thumb out by the corner of his mouth, smearing his saliva over Jamil’s cheek. You slide your hand further until cup the corner of his jaw, your thumb coming to rest right before Jamil’s ear while the rest of your fingers slip into his hair.

You lean down further, and your lips meet in a slow, sensual kiss. Your tongue tangles with Jamil’s as you take your time tasting and enjoying him. You more feel than hear the soft moan that Jamil makes against your lips, lighting yet another fire within you. With a groan you press your body more firmly against his, wanting to feel every bit of him against you, your bodies undulating together.

You feel the firm pressure of Jamil’s hands sliding up along your back, pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin as the kiss becomes more fervent.

You nip on Jamil’s lower lip, his gasp sending another shiver of pleasure down your spine. You move your hand to his ponytail, your tug eliciting another sharp inhale from him. With your urging Jamil soon tilts his head back, exposing his neck to you.

You can feel the unevenness of Jamil’s breaths beneath you, soft, delightful noises catching in his throat.

“Mmm, aren’t you such a compliant treat tonight,” you tease Jamil, hearing him huff in response.

“The things I do for you,” he muses, not a hint of bite in his words.

You chuckle and trail your lips along his jaw, planting a line of soft kisses until you’re below his ear. There you tug Jamil’s earlobe with your teeth, delighting in the way you can feel him squirm beneath you. You trace the tip of your tongue along the shell of his ear, making Jamil hiss and tense.

You chuckle, your warm breath fanning Jamil’s ear and the moisture left behind by your lips and tongue.

“Already twitching, are we?” you tease him - as if you weren't purposefully targeting the weak spots you're well aware of.

“Shush,” Jamil says, swatting you lightly.

You chuckle and move your lips lower from his ear, slowly kissing your way down along Jamil’s neck. You keep your grip on his hair, urging him to keep still as you continue teasing him with your mouth. You place warm, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, only changing your course when you come to the neckline of his shirt.

You feel the way Jamil tenses beneath you when you move up the column of his throat, even if you keep your kisses light on such a vulnerable spot. Yet, when you notice the way his Adam’s apple bobs under your lips, you can’t resist softly wrapping your lips around it. The action earns you a strangled sound from Jamil, who tries to pull back but is unable to quite do so.

“Uncomfortable?” you ask softly, peppering soft, almost apologetic kisses to his jaw.

“A bit,” Jamil breathes out, his chest noticeably rising and falling.

“Noted,” you murmur.

You move to the other side of his neck - you loosen your hold on Jamil’s hair, yet he tilts his head aside just the same, taking in a deep breath as he does so. You smirk against his skin, satisfied to see him so pliant.

There’s definitely a part of you that would love to see him like this more often.

This time you don’t settle for just soft kisses. You let your teeth graze Jamil’s skin, a shiver of delight going down your spine when you hear him hiss in response.

And when you get to that particular spot where his neck meets his shoulder you basically latch on, sucking on the skin. Jamil inhales sharply, grasping onto you tighter, his neck arching and tensing beneath you.

“Ahh-” It’s a soft, barely audible sound, yet hearing the cry escape Jamil’s lips fills you with warm satisfaction. You bite harder, feeling the way Jamil jolts beneath you, before you allow him reprieve and soothe your tongue over the spot.

“You’re not usually this… aggressive,” Jamil breathes out.

“You know you can stop me if you need me to,” you say, sticking to the softer kisses for the moment.

“No need,” Jamil says, letting out a shaky breath. You can practically feel the way he’s trying to relax, at least a little, even as he’s trying to anticipate your next move.

You tug on Jamil’s neckline, teasing as far down his shoulders and collarbones as you comfortably can with your kisses and licks.

Yet, as much as you’re loving the reactions you’ve gotten out of Jamil so far, it’s becoming more and more apparent that just teasing his neck is not enough for you.

You lean back, sitting up on Jamil’s lap. Your hands slowly trail down from Jamil’s shoulders along his body, your eyes half-lidded as you regard him.

There’s a delightfully flustered look on Jamil’s features, his lips slightly parted as he looks at you intently.

“You know… I think we’re going to have to get you undressed,” you murmur, smirking when you see the effect your words have on Jamil.

“Are we now?” he asks with a grin.

“Mhmm. I mean, I can hardly enjoy you to my heart’s content otherwise, now can I.”

You lean down for one more kiss, your hand lingering on Jamil’s side, your hips slightly rocking into his. You’re both making soft noises into the kiss, momentarily distracted by each other, before you finally pull yourself off Jamil’s lap and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“So… Lose those clothes for me, now would you?” you say with a grin, giving Jamil an expectant look.

There’s barely any hesitation when Jamil gets up from the bed. You can tell he’s feeling a little awkward with you looking at him like this, waiting for him to undress for you, yet there’s also a part of him reveling in being the center of your attention.

So, Jamil pulls off his hoodie by the neck, slowly revealing his body for your greedy eyes. His movements are fluid, deliberate, despite the mixture of embarrassment and excitement that’s evident on his features. The flex and curl of his body entrances you, your eyes drinking in every little movement and the dancer’s grace he displays.

His shirt thrown aside Jamil moves to his trousers, slowly pulling them down along his legs and revealing the way his cock is already tenting his underwear. You find yourself leaning forward, taking in all the wonders of his body - a sight you never seem to tire of. Jamil’s hair cascades over his shoulder when he bends down and he pulls one leg free, then the other, until he’s left in just his underwear, his fingers hooked under the waistband.

“Careful, you might start drooling,” Jamil teases you, clearly satisfied with your rapt attention.

“Oh, but can you blame me?” you respond playfully, feeling the flush on your cheeks.

You slide your palms down your legs, gripping your knees, as Jamil removes that last piece of clothing.

“There we go,” you say huskily, your eyes raking over Jamil’s exposed body. The planes of his chest, the softness of his stomach, the patch of dark, curly hair surrounding the cock that’s slowly stirring to life under your eyes, the lean limbs and that lovely brown skin...

“Come here,” you say, lifting a hand.

Once again, Jamil complies, and when he’s within your reach you pull him to stand between your legs, running your palms over him. Just a sliver of exposed skin always has you itching to touch - or to kiss, as it may be - so the sight of Jamil fully bare before you like this is as irresistible as ever. You press soft kisses to his stomach, your hands following the curve of his back until you can grip his rear.

“For all we discussed, I did not think you being in charge would involve you being this adoring,” Jamil says, trying to hide his fluster behind playful words.

You chuckle against his skin, squeezing his ass in response.

“All part of enjoying you, you know,” you say, looking up at Jamil with a playful, loving smile.

“Is that so,” Jamil murmurs, cupping your cheek.

“Mhmm,” you nod. “Now… Lay down on the bed for me. In the middle of it, on your back,” you say, giving Jamil’s hip a playful nudge to get him moving.

While Jamil settles down, you pull off your tights and underwear, dropping them on the pile of Jamil’s clothes. Then you walk around the bed, admiring the sight of Jamil sprawled on the bed - all for you. He’s folded his hands behind his head, his gaze following you. It feels like you’re trying to devour all of him at once with your eyes, not knowing where to settle when all of him is calling to you so.

You grab the cuffs you set aside earlier and crawl over to Jamil on your hands and knees.

Sure, it would be easier to just sit next to Jamil while you tie up his wrists. But where’s the fun in that? So you straddle his chest instead, your bare groin against his skin, and lean over to capture his hands.

“Cheeky. Are you keeping the rest on?” Jamil asks, pushing his chest against you.

“For now, at least,” you say lightly.

You trace your palms over Jamil's arms, guiding his hands above his head. After looping the cuffs around the headboard you fasten them around Jamil's wrists, making sure they're snug but not too tight.

“How’s that?” you ask, running your fingers over the cuffs.

Jamil flexes his fingers, shifts his arms, testing the feel of the bindings.

“Feels fine.”

“Good. Let me know if that changes,” you murmur.

You caress Jamil’s face, tracing his features. Your thumb brushes his cheek, and with a soft breath he nuzzles into the touch.

Gently, you guide Jamil to tilt his head to the side. You pull loose his ponytail, running your fingers through his hair.

Soon, Jamil’s hair is spilled around him on the bed, yet another lovely addition to the scene unfolding before you. Jamil, bound and bare beneath you, his cheeks darkened and eyes trained on you.

Not often do you get Jamil looking at you with such vulnerability, and the sight of it makes your heart flutter. He’s clearly filled with anticipation, too, with the trepidation of surrender. Yet, there is trust in him as well, trust in the way he’s yielding to you and all but urging you to continue.

Oh, you’d love to take a picture of him like this, commit the sight to memory and never let go of it.

Slowly, you drag your body down along Jamil’s, some of the wetness of your pussy leaking onto his skin. You feel Jamil’s tension beneath you, his breaths uneven and his hands flexing.

You only stop your movement when your pussy is right over Jamil’s hardening cock. You let your weight settle on him, pinning him down and holding him still under your warmth.

There’s a definite sharpness to Jamil’s inhale. He wriggles beneath you, what little he can, testing your control over him, and you press yourself down more firmly on him.

“Behave yourself, won’t you,” you say playfully, pushing down onto his shoulders.

“Or you’ll make me?” Jamil asks, humor and challenge evident.

“Indeed. Glad you understand,” you grin.

You draw your hands down over Jamil’s body, this time without the barrier of his clothes. From his shoulders across his chest and stomach your fingers dig into him, his skin pushed into ridges and divots under your touch.

Jamil’s body flexes beneath your touch, muscles rippling with tension and the release of it as your hands make their way. His eyes are trained on you, so intently, his palpable anticipation and the responsiveness of his body filling you with triumph.

You lean down again, your hair falling down over your shoulder and spilling over Jamil’s bare chest.

“Mmm… You really are such a delight, my dear,” you murmur, your lips brushing the shell of his ear.

You return your mouth to Jamil’s skin, trailing kisses and nips from his jaw down along his neck and collarbones. When you make your way down to his chest, you twirl your tongue around a nipple, Jamil’s body jolting in response.

Yet, that reaction is nothing compared to when you bring in your teeth, enclosing that sensitive point of Jamil’s chest in your mouth but not directly biting the nipple. You slowly increase the pressure of your bite until Jamil’s breaths turn into hisses, body writhing.

Oh, he’s actually whimpering.

You inhale sharply through your nose, trying to keep some rein over your baser instincts. Oh, how you want to push harder, grip tighter. How you want those sweet noises to increase in volume and pitch until neither of you would know anything else.

Once again, you soothe over the spot with soft kisses and kitten licks, a dark part of you hoping you’ve left a mark that might stay for a while. It is not like you to hurt or mark just for the sake of it, but Jamil’s reactions, the thought of the evidence of your dominance lingering on his skin… Oh, it is most tempting indeed.

“Was that too much?” you ask lowly, just in case, still feeling Jamil’s tension beneath you.

“Nhnh… I told you. You can let go tonight.”

You laugh in response, a mischievous grin on your lips as your eyes meet Jamil’s. Oh, you can tell he means it, despite the heaving of his chest. There’s that shine in his eyes, such a vivid spark of desire. A desire for more, a desire to see how much you can do and how much he can take.

“If you say so,” you say with smug satisfaction.

You return to your task, your mouth - your lips, your tongue, your teeth - traversing Jamil’s body, taking your time to enjoy every inch of skin as you slowly move lower. The dips of his chest, the ridges of his ribs, the softness of his stomach… You take your time savoring - and marking - it all.

With your actions Jamil’s getting increasingly restless, drawing in sharp hisses of breath, tugging on his restraints, squirming beneath you.

Yet, not once has he asked you to stop, or to go easier on him.

You’ve slid down far enough for you to feel the twitch of Jamil’s cock against your breasts, his hips wriggling beneath you. You press your hands on him more firmly, keeping him still, nipping on the skin of his stomach both to warn him to behave and to urge him to react even more.

Moving lower again, your tongue follows the line of his hip towards his groin, teasing and tantalizing. Yet when you feel the coarse curls against your cheek you change course, moving to kiss your way down Jamil’s thigh instead.

Jamil hisses out your name, his hips bucking, and there’s no hiding your smug, satisfied look.

“Something the matter, my dear?” you ask, as innocently as you can muster. You grip Jamil’s hips tighter while you suck the soft skin of his inner thigh between your teeth.

“Ahh!” Jamil cries out, his leg twitching.

“You’re such a tease,” he huffs, nearly panting.

You let out another satisfied laugh and drag your nails down the outside of his thigh, loving each and every one of Jamil’s reactions.

“You’re the one who told me to enjoy myself and not hold back,” you say with a smirk.

“Please. At least…” Jamil’s words trail off, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“You’re going to have to ask for it to get what you want, you know,” you say, your words low and sultry. You caress a splayed palm up along the top of Jamil’s thigh, your thumb just brushing the edge of his pubes.

“Please. I’m aching for you,” Jamil pleads, emphasizing his words with a twitch of his hips, his heavy cock bobbing with the movement.

Oh, that plea was one of the sweetest things you had ever heard from him, your core throbbing just with the sound of it.

You tilt your head, as if thinking over his words.

“Asking for relief, are you, my love?” you ask. You brush your fingers over his hardened cock, the lightest of touches on the velvety skin, yet that is enough to make Jamil inhale sharply.

“Yes,” Jamil breathes out, his eyes wide, expectant, when he looks up at you.

There are a few different options on your mind - a few different temptations, calling to you, as you wonder just how much you should push Jamil.

Then again, he had been the one telling you to not hold back. That he could take it.

You reach over to the bedside table and pull out a vibrator from the drawer. You keep it concealed from Jamil, just to prolong the tension - though he does know well enough what sort of things have been stashed away there.

A pump of lube from the bottle on the nightstand, smeared against the tip of the toy with your palm. You wipe your hand mostly clean against Jamil's thigh and bring the vibrator to the underside of his cock. For now, you keep it turned off, just slowly moving it along his sensitive parts in circular motions.

Even like this, there are a few spots that make Jamil's cock twitch or body tense.

Then you turn on the vibration, and Jamil actually gasps.

“How's that?” you ask in a low tone.

“It's…” Jamil pauses, as if considering the sensation. “It… feels good.”

“Well, my dear… If there’s something you like in particular, I’d love to hear it,” you purr.

At this point, Jamil’s responsive enough that it’s not difficult for you to tell what the most sensitive spots are just by judging his reactions. Yet, hearing him admit it, too, telling you what he likes, what he wants more of… oh, it’s absolutely delicious. So, whenever he does admit to something feeling good, you gladly reward him by giving special attention to that particular spot.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” you say with a satisfied smirk, pressing the vibrator more firmly down against the sensitive spot right under the head of his cock, your other hand cradling his hardness to keep it still.

“Yes, nghh…” Jamil groans in response. You can tell he wants to buck and twitch, yet he’s trying to keep still with you touching such sensitive parts.

You press down, ease up the pressure, time and time again, until Jamil is quivering, his legs twitching and body curling with the intensity of it all. You can see his arousal, impatience and tension building, his whole body pulled taut as a wire, only for you to ease up once again and switch to gentle caresses.

If you’d enjoyed his whimpers before, now Jamil’s noises and reactions were absolutely delightful. Whimpers, hisses, groans and breathy words… Oh, it was driving you wild, seeing him like this.

“Please…. How long do you plan on just teasing me?” Jamil whines, a mess of longing and frustration.

“Well… I could listen to those sweet noises you’re making for quite some time, you know,” you say casually, flipping the vibrator to life once again.

A strangled, indignant noise catches in Jamil’s throat, the color of his cheeks quickly darkening further. You can’t help laughing in response, even as you lean down to press a greedy kiss to his lips.

“I mean… You are so wonderfully responsive right now, and it’s just absolutely delicious seeing you like this,” you murmur, your lips brushing Jamil’s cheek.

“You’re tormenting me,” Jamil huffs.

You can see how taut the bindings on his hands are, how tense his body is as he practically trembles to do something instead of just having to take what you have to give.

“And do you dislike it?” you ask with a smirk, pressing the buzzing vibrator against Jamil and pulling another wide-eyed gasp out of him.

Jamil swallows thickly enough that you can see the bobbing of his throat.

“...No. I don’t,” he sighs.

Jamil takes a deep breath, visibly steeling himself.

“Please… Let me have more of you,” he begs, looking over the dress you’re still wearing.

Perhaps you could grant him a little more. He’s been such a delight, after all.

“Hmm… Maybe I can give you that,” you murmur, once again weighing your options.

You settle the vibrator down to a spot you know gets to Jamil, drinking in his reactions as you slip your hand under your dress. You slide your fingers between your pussy lips, fondling your clit. You know Jamil can't quite see what you were doing, the hem of your dress covering it up, yet you’re sure he can guess. 

The way he looks at you, eyes burning as his bindings keep his hands away, certainly suggests so.

“Patience, my dear,” you say teasingly.

The buzzing of the vibrator and Jamil’s shaky noises are joined by the lewd sound of your fingers finding your wetness, the shuddering breath you take when you find just the right angle. Your eyes don’t leave each other, both of you watching the other get lost in the pleasure - all of it by your hand.

Then, finally, you move, pressing your wet cunt right against Jamil’s aching cock. Jamil’s hips buck, a low, needy noise falling from his lips. You rock yourself against him, coating him in your juices as you prepare yourself to take him.

“Won’t you let me see you?” Jamil groans, his eyes brimming with desire, his voice ready to break at any moment.

“Maybe if you ask me sweetly enough,” you say, reveling in the power you have over him.

Yet, before Jamil has the chance to consider begging, you take his cock into your hand and guide him to your entrance, rubbing the tip along your folds. Your dress is still pooled around you, covering the way you’re joined, the hem gathered over Jamil’s belly.

Jamil’s moan is pure music to your ears, your core throbbing as you slowly ease him in. It’s a delicious feeling of fullness, his hard, straining cock stretching you open, settling snugly within you.

Once Jamil's fully enveloped by your welcoming cunt, you settle down more comfortably on his lap. You grab the vibrator you just used on Jamil and slip it under your dress to bring it to your clit. With a soft gasp you lean your head back, a jolt shooting through your nerves when you find just the right spot to tease with the toy. 

You keep mostly still on Jamil, the faint reverberations of the vibrator and the flutter of your pussy around Jamil’s cock all the stimulation you grant him. It’s always particularly wonderful, combining such stimulation with the sensation of having your pussy filled - and even more delicious now, when it’s Jamil inside you, when you get to enjoy his every reaction to your actions.

Jamil growls, his hips bucking up to you nigh uselessly. Your name on his lips is somewhere between a plea and an admonishment, your continued teasing and denial driving him towards his breaking point.

“Love… Please, please, I need you to move, I need you to milk me with this perfect pussy of yours, please…” Jamil whines, another desperate thrust of his hips finding enough purchase to nearly topple you forwards.

You click your tongue and give Jamil a warning look.

“Keep still, my dear.”

“I can’t help it when I want you so much. Do you even know what you’ve done to me?”

Jamil seems so sincere, all his pretenses fallen, yet you can recognize the part of him that likes to rely on honeyed words to get what he wants. Still, his desperate desire is undeniable, his body quivering beneath you, all of him full of wanton need that only feeds your own arousal.

“Why don’t you enlighten me, then?” you goad Jamil, still pleasuring yourself with the toy, feeling the warm pleasure fill you as your body tenses.

Jamil pauses, his tongue darting out from the corner of his mouth.

“You… You have such power over me, driving me completely wild with the way you’ve been teasing me… Please, won’t you have some mercy on me? I need you, need to feel you properly, need both of us to feel good..”

The genuine need in Jamil’s tone makes you groan, a shudder running down your spine all the way to your cunt.

So you drop the vibrator to the bed and place your hands on either side of Jamil, bracing yourself as you begin to move.

“Ahh, yes!” Jamil moans, his head tilted back, his hips quickly moving to match your rhythm.

You’re tempted to remind him to keep still, but at this point you can’t resist, either. In fact, you love feeling his eagerness, the desperate way he’s rutting into you from below.

You lean back, pulling your dress over your head and tossing it away. Your bra soon gets the same treatment, finally leaving you bare for Jamil’s eyes to devour.

“Better?” you ask with a playful smile as you lean down again, beginning to ride Jamil in earnest.

“Yes,” he breathes out, bracing his feet against the bed so that he can move with you with more force.

Soon, you’re both panting and moaning, all the buildup leaving you both on the verge of release. Your bodies meet time and again, a forceful smack of your hips as you take Jamil’s cock deep within you over and over. It’s so delicious, the way his cock is dragging along your insides, the way Jamil’s fully let go and just chasing more of you. You lean lower, your lips meeting in a sloppy, delirious kiss that’s muffling both of your moans.

“Gonna come for me, aren’t you? Gonna fill me with your cum?” you murmur hotly against Jamil’s mouth, a moan falling from his lips in response.

“Mhmm, I’d love to drive you into the mattress right now, smother you with kisses, touch you all over…” Jamil groans, his hands clenched into fists in the cuffs.

You can’t help your breathless laugh in response. “Well, turns out that’s my privilege tonight,” you tease him, adjusting your position so that you can tug on Jamil’s hair before giving him another fierce, hungry kiss.

Jamil’s eyes scrunch closed, his breathing uneven, his thrusts faltering. You pick up the pace, sliding up and down on his cock, until you see the bliss of his orgasm overtake Jamil. He groans, spilling his load inside you, face contorted in pleasure as his body trembles.

“There you go,” you breathe out, giving Jamil another deep, passionate kiss, stealing the last of his breath away.

Your hips slow, settling down against Jamil’s again, his cock and cum swallowed by your cunt. You grab the toy again, leaning back, gasping when you feel the buzz on your clit.

“Mmm, let me see you come, let me feel you squeeze around my cock,” Jamil urges you, even breathless as he is from his own release.

It does not take you long to follow after Jamil. The tension has your legs trembling, the pleasure building in your core until you can’t contain it anymore. The burning bliss takes you under, both of you gasping when your pussy clenches around Jamil’s cock in a tight squeeze. Your back arches, body jolting, as you ride the waves of pleasure.

Eventually, you toss the toy aside and slump against Jamil, your lips fumbling against his, both of your breaths ragged and chests heaving. You remain there for a moment, savoring your afterglow and the feel of Jamil’s body against yours.

“I swear, love, if you don’t let me touch you soon…” Jamil says in a low, breathy tone.

You chuckle, pecking Jamil’s cheek quickly.

“I suppose I should,” you mumble, lazily moving to undo Jamil’s hands despite the languidness that’s taken over your body.

You kiss over Jamil’s wrists as you release them, making sure he’s fine. There’s some indentations on his skin, presumably from the way he pulled against the restraints, but nothing for you to worry over.

As soon as he can, Jamil pulls you close, feeling you up as if making up for lost time. You chuckle, gladly enjoying the touches and the skin to skin contact.

“Mhmm… How are you feeling, my dear?” you ask softly, still a little out of breath.

“Oh, love… You really are something else,” Jamil mumbles, his face nuzzled into your neck.

You smile, feeling the warm satisfaction settle within you.

“Glad you enjoyed yourself, then,” you murmur, settling more comfortably against Jamil.

“Who knew my sweet girlfriend had such a side to her,” Jamil says, his tone teasing - though you suspect he’s also trying to cover up just how affected he is.

“Who knew my stubborn boyfriend would be so willing to go along with it,” you tease back.

You take in a soft breath, enjoying the feel of Jamil's body against yours. It was always particularly sweet, feeling Jamil’s body against yours after sex, and you found yourself practically soaking in Jamil's presence. 

Jamil's lips lock with yours, the kiss languid and tender, yet tinged with the remains of your passion. 

Happily, you sink into the softness of the moment, the heady satisfaction of your lovemaking mixing with the warm comfort of the current moment.

“So…” you murmur, your fingers trailing on Jamil’s skin. “Do you think you’ll let me do this again sometime?”

Jamil chuckles, giving you an amused, affectionate look.

“Hmm… I think you could persuade me, yes,” he says teasingly. “Though I will definitely have to pay back the favor sometime, too.”

You chuckle.

“Maybe I could be persuaded, too,” you grin and move in for another soft kiss.

Hopefully y'all enjoyed this (and this doesn't have just the target audience of me personally). As always, would love to hear your thoughts!

Also I wrote this on an awkward loan laptop instead of my own PC so please, if there's any mistakes, do let me know so I can sort them out.

This line sure was telling of my whole writing process: "There are a few different options on your mind - a few different temptations, calling to you, as you wonder just how much you should push Jamil." So many places I could've gone with this, but this is where we ended up (this time).

If you'd like to be tagged for my future works, let me know and I'll be happy to do so!

Tag list:

@colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist

@perilous-pasta @twstgo

[taibobo]

i have spent over half my life suffering in silence with the only places i’ve been able to openly speak about my disorder being pro-ed forums and social media communities as a preteen. these communities form because there are no healthy alternatives because having an ed is so stigmatized by wider society and even by those who champion the importance of mental health as being something that is even too taboo to speak about plainly.

like why do you guys think places like myproana or skinny gossip or th!nspo tumblr or edtwt exist. it’s because all of you foster so much fucking hate for a loud minority of MENTALLY ILL PEOPLE mind you and think that them suffering for your own comfort is a better option than allowing them a place to speak about their struggles and feelings without automatically assuming that their intrusive thoughts are equal to their morals or actual feelings. maybe you are all the hateful evil people actually and not mentally ill teenage girls on tiktok who have only felt a sense of belonging and community with fatphobes because you isolated them. sorry!

[mutualmango]

reading some of the book v audiobook discourse, and i’ll say this: come for the audiobook listeners if you want (i do both, idc) but i’ll die on the hill that listening to another person read is closer to actively engaging with literature than whatever those “””speed readers””” are up to

[home-eater]

Ngl whoever created/discovered this anti anxiety medication fucking SNAPPED😭😭

[hunchounlimited]

🌟 Trust Yourself, Silence the Critics! 🌟

🗣️ In a world filled with noise, remember to listen to the most important voice: your own! 🎤 Embrace your uniqueness, and let it be the driving force that propels you forward. 💪🏼✨ #trustyourself #innerstrength #silencethecritics

👉🏼 Swipe to hear @selenagomez share her empowering words of wisdom. 🎬💬 Let's drown out the doubts and negativity and rise above with self-belief and resilience. 🚀🌈 #positivevibesonly #selflove #inspiration

👂🏼💓 Tag a friend who needs this reminder and spread the love! 🤗🌟 #selenaspeaks #believeinyourself #yougotthisgirl #strongwomen

[loftydreams101]

Fragile and Temporary

A truce With myself at last In the impossible silence, Time to clear out the ruins Before the night flames red – A truce The words ring bittersweet from my tongue, As I brace for the shatter   Of civility’s spell – A truce In this mire of my own design To recover friends lost In its quicksand embrace   – A truce With my frayed former self, Unmoved By the mournful calm, He…

[taeslarityy]

outage ༄ joel miller one shot (18+)

-> pairing: no-outbreak joel miller au x female curvy reader

-> word count: 4.3k

-> summary: after a citywide power outage, you're left to deal with the scorching texas heat. until, the well-respected neighborhood dilf — joel miller — lends you a more than generous hand.

-> warnings/tags: sarah is 10/11 so joel had her a bit older, power outage, texas heat, yes this is a warning because its not a joke, reader has a cat!!!, age gap (reader is 24, joel is late 40s), curvy/mid/plus size reader, brief fatphobia, reader has self-image/parent issues + is a lonely gal, fluff, SMUT (18+), unprotected piv, creampie, oral + fingering (f!recieving), squirting, body worship, brief ass play, daddy kink, big ole tits, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, a bit of belly bulge, cockwarming, pet names galore (darlin, sweetheart, baby, _ girl), joel has a huge dick (not canon!)

-> a/n: hi hi! i have been so anxious to begin writing again and currently have some wips that i am just not confident with. so when i saw the lovely @hellishjoel post her #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i was positive i wanted to join in! such a pleasure to be involved in this — thank you kylee for creating such a fun way for this community to get involved! as a curvier woman, i wanted reader to reflect that. because... joel miller is a handsy mf and loves to just grab himself some wide hips, thick thighs and phat tits <3 but ofc, this is can be for various body types. please please please, leave your thoughts and even constructive criticism! <3 DILF NEIGHBOR JOEL, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

You release a groan of annoyance as the visual of your TV, coffee table lamp and humming of the refrigerator all flicker off into silence. The frills on your throw-blanket settle, as the ceiling fan no longer produces the small gusts of wind that have caused you to be rather chilly on this hot, humid and rainy summer night. 

When you made the courageous decision of moving across the country for a new teaching opportunity in Austin — you were never informed on the true brutality summertime unleashed onto Texas residents. More-so, you really had nothing to do but be caged up in the comfortable AC of your home. You’ve been here for roughly 14 months and the only "friends" you’ve made have been the 28 fourth graders you had the pleasure of teaching last school year. Tragic. 

Your coworkers, did not handle your arrival pleasantly. Young, beautiful, freshly-educated and determined. That’s what your grandmother referred to you as when you called her sobbing after your first week. Informing her that the seasoned teachers won’t even bat an eye at you, and when they do it’s a look of disgust. Whispering amongst one another. Like you were in middle school again, trying to befriend the popular girls. 

“I was foolish to think things could be different for me down here, so stupid of me.”

“Now listen to me, you are the most intelligent woman I know. More than anyone in this family. Bullies like that, it stems from an unknown jealousy and overbearing insecurity. Don’t let a few sour grapes ruin this outstanding career for you. Your students adore you already, and so do I. Just continue to be yourself and if that isn’t enough for them, so be it.”

Your grandmother always knew how to make you feel better. She had been instilling your own sense of confidence since you were a little girl. The only adult in your life to do so. If only her words were enough. Your coworkers just never let up. After overhearing them gossip about you during lunch break, you gave up your attempts indefinitely. 

“She really thinks she deserves a place here?”

“Look at her back rolls in that shirt…”

“She really needs to put that sandwich down.”

“Why is she so quiet? It’s freaky, honestly. No wonder she’s always alone.”

You’re not a stranger to being alone. You practically have been your entire life. Your parents never really bothered to form a genuine relationship with you, always so focused on your younger sister. She was the prettier, thinner, more impressive version of you. You have only had one best friend throughout your long 24 years on this earth. She was smarter than you and moved away from the timid small town you shared in Northern Maine, choosing an out-of-state university. So, being alone was a familiarity. You have made peace with it. But being lonely — that’s a whole other ball-park. 

The booming thwack of thunder startles you from your thoughts. Your sweet calico boy leaps from your warm lap and scurries under the dining table — tail puffed in fear. “Milo... it’s okay,” you whisper. He just gleams at you with his jet-black saucer eyes. Even you don’t believe your own words. You are not used to storms like this, and you didn’t really prepare. You read some articles online about stocking up: having plently of batteries, candles, non-perishable foods. Yet, you didn’t do any of that. 

Rubbing away the moisture from your damp upper lip — the heat inside your home already becoming unbearable. Deciding on a whim, you can head to a nearby hotel for the night. Unsure how long you will be without power and don’t wish to succumb yourself or your cat to the searing temperatures of the night. 

The rain has slowed down, as you feel the soft patter on your umbrella. Throwing your purse and water bottle in the front seat, you begin to dread unpacking all this stuff when you get to the hotel. Bags, cat litter, cage — scrutinizing yourself mentally and deciding you better fucking prepare for the next storm. 

“Where ya headin’ sweetheart?”

Your heart jumps at the deep smooth Southern voice that fills your thoughts at night. When your hands would find their way in between your quivering legs. Throughout the day. Pretty much all the time.

Joel Miller is the only person in this town that has ever filled the lonely void you can never seem to fill. When you moved to the quiet suburban street, he was the first to come greet you as you struggled to pull your mattress out of the U-Haul. Immediately lending a hand, and proceeding to lug all of your remaining boxes, furniture, miscellaneous items into your new home. 

“Pretty lady like you, shouldn’t have to lift a single finger.” He remarked when you you blushed and assured him you could handle the rest, not wanting to be a burden. Even though the sweat dripping down your back was apparent and 5 minutes prior you had no idea how you’d be able to unpack the remainder of the truck. He then assured you — there was no way in hell you were being a burden. Words that were a rarity. 

Later that afternoon, he invited you for dinner at his home. You met his lovely daughter, Sarah. Where everyone learned that you were her new school teacher. What were the odds? 

Following that, seeing Joel was frequent. From parent-teacher conferences, backyard barbecues for the neighborhood, or even small intimate dinners with Sarah at each others homes. Sarah would even spend the night at yours on occasion. When Joel had a late night at the construction site, or when she just needed some girl time. You adored that little girl, and vice versa. 

You also adored the fuck out of Joel. 

So when you looked up at his porch, finding him in nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants.. your throat went dry. His tanned skin gleamed softly from the street light — little speckled freckles adorned his waist in various spots. And that darkish grey hair on his chest and fat of his lower tummy that flowed underneath his pants. Your brain fuzzy at the thought of your face pressed against it as you swallow his cock. 

But you were not a fool. Joel would never express an attraction towards you. A man like that? He deserved the perfect woman. 

“Darlin’?” He speaks again, a bit louder. Disturbing your wandering thoughts. 

“I- I was gonna head to a hotel for the night, my house is too hot already. And I don’t want Milo to be uncomfortable.” 

Joel’s eyes wander down your body as you explain — the plush jiggle of your tits in that small tank. Nearly spilling out. Slightly damp from the rain or humidity. The chub of your tummy spills slightly from your leggings. A sight that makes his cock swell unbearingly. An act that occurs more often than not when he sees you or even thinks of you for the countless minutes of his day. 

“No way. Not gonna let ya drive in this weather. Plus, most hotels nearby are gonna be overbooked. I got the generator up n’ working, got the spare room too. Your stayin’ over.” 

“No! No, Joel. I can’t.”

“N’ why not?” His hands have found his way to his hips, popping a knee out and giving you that classic dad glare. Not angry, but confused as to why you’re even protesting when he’s already decided. 

“I don’t want to intrude and I have Milo. You and Sarah are allergic.”

“Sarah left yesterday to stay with her mom in California for the rest of the summer. Besides, Milo loves me. I can handle a runny nose as long as I know the two of ya are safe.” 

To this, your stomach nearly flips inward on itself. You’ve never been alone with Joel in his home. Not for this long. The few times you’ve come over to help him with dinner before Sarah got home from soccer practice, have always been excruciating. Staring at him without worry. Watching his muscles flex through his t-shirts. Big hands chopping vegetables and plating food. His hand lightly touching your waist when scooting by. 

There’s no possible way you can survive a night in Joel’s home. 

But, he’s already grabbing his umbrella and walking over to you. He grabs your stuff from the car and tells you to go grab Milo. So, you do.

Joel slips on a t-shirt after he put your stuff in the spare room, disappointedly enough. You nearly told him to keep it off, but held your tongue. You made yourself comfortable at the island barstool as you typed up some early lesson plans, Milo at your feet. 

He patters over to Joel who is now leaning against the counter, brushing against his leg. He then leaps onto the granite and purrs against Joel’s arm. 

“Psst! Milo get do-“ you beg, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. 

“S’ okay, sweetheart. He’s not botherin’ me,” Joel attempts to settle your nerves. Petting Milo’s soft fur and scratching under his chin, that special spot all cats love. “Can I get you anythin’ to drink?” He nods towards the coffee he’s brewing. 

“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” You beam at him. Joel’s heart skips a beat every time your cheeks puff up ever so slightly when you smile at him. It’s something he swears is the most endearing thing about you. Of course, he’s only ever shared that with his daughter. Who begs her father to just take her favorite teacher on a date already. 

Joel grabs some sugar and oat milk from the fridge, your favorite. He learned from the few breakfasts you guys had shared. A bit of sugar and a nice gulp of milk softens the dark roast color in the mug, he slides it over to you as he grabs his plain black coffee. 

“You remembered!” You giggle slightly at the Number 1 Dad title that adorns the mug, taking a sip. You moan at the taste, exactly how you like it. 

“Of course I did, darlin’.” You almost hate how easily those pet names roll of his tongue. You summed it up as his southern hospitality, figured he calls any woman those special names. “So, you ready for this new school year?”

An icky feeling settles in your stomach. The thought of returning to the painful and toxic work environment you can only escape when you’re with your students.

“Not without my Sarah girl,” you swiftly change the subject towards the one person he can talk hours about.

He smiles proudly at her name. 

“Ya know, she still all mad that you wouldn’t flunk her so she could have another year with ya.” Both your laughs quickly fill the empty house. 

“Well, even if I tried to, that girl is too smart for her own good. She should skip a grade in my opinion.” You state, and you’re truthful at that. Sarah Miller is as intelligent as she is quick-witted. 

“Yeah, she gets it from me.” At that you roll your eyes playfully. Typing something up before closing your computer and taking another sip of coffee. “Although I love boastin’ over her, I guess I meant are you excited to go back? They treat ya good there?” 

Joel watches the color drain from your soft skin. Realizing he touched somewhere that might be too personal. Too raw. “M’ sorry sweetheart, shouldn’t have asked.”

“No- no uh, you’re fine. Um, honestly? No. I’m not excited. The staff there aren’t exactly the kindest bunch.” You confess, slight unease crawling over you. 

Joel’s eyes scrunch in confusion. Mind blank on how the kindest soul he knows, could be surrounded by complete opposite. “Whatcha mean?”

You sigh letting the anxiousness settle a bit before speaking again, “they hate me. I don’t even know why, really? I have tried my hardest to get them to accept me but nothing seems to work. Whether it’s jabs at my appearance, teaching style, they’re never satisfied.” Your eyes are burning slightly, haven’t confessed this burden you constantly carry to anyone. “If it wasn’t for your daughter and my class, and… you.. well, I think I wouldn’t have made it through. I try to be strong, I try to be everything that people expect from me but it’s just so hard, Joel.” At that, the fat tears begin to stream down your face.

Joel was frozen in shock. Or maybe anger. Protectiveness. He wanted to hurt the people who made you feel like this. The least deserving of any pain. He sets his mug down and snatches you in his embrace. Holding your head with his hand, stroking your back with the other. He lets you sob almost uncontrollably into his firm chest. 

“I just hate being so alone.” You whisper, clutching onto him. You can’t even be embarrassed anymore, you’re so overthrown by his scent, his comfort. Comfort you’ve not felt in so so long. 

Joel kisses your temple softly, "promise you're not alone, sweet girl." He nudges your head to look up at his own sorrowful expression. His thumb running over your full lips, a bit swollen from your teeth biting down on them in an attempt to muffle your sobs. "So beautiful." He murmurs as he leans down to place a kiss on your left cheek, his lips skim over yours before he places another on your right.

Joel just barely hears the whimper from the back of your throat when that feather light skim happened. He leans back half an inch, staring into your glossy eyes. "Tell me not to, and I'll let you go upstairs and get some rest. Tell me, sweetheart."

It feels like a whole minute passes by. The soft patter of the rain, the smell of coffee beans from each others breath, the same slow breathing that overwhelms the little space between you both.

Desperation.

Your fingers tighten on his shirt, "don't let me go upstairs, Joel."

Joel smashes his mouth into yours, his guttural groan flying into your soft whimpers. The softness Joel expressed a moment ago is long gone. This kiss is messy, teeth-clanking, tongue inside your mouth. Like he wants to devour you from the outside in. He releases your lip with a pop.

He threads his thick fingers through the base of your hair and yanks it back gently, tongue on your neck. Biting the skin there. "You're so soft, baby. Just need me to mark ya up, is that right?"

You nod as hard as you can despite his harsh grip on your locks.

"I need you to use your words, sweet girl. Let me know what you're thinkin'."

"Everything you do is okay. I want more. I need it all. Please."

"Oh baby, cm'ere," he wraps your lavish thighs around his waist and hoists you into his arms. Easily. Like you're just the most delicate thing he's ever held.

As he walks to his bedroom, you smile into his neck. Arms wrapped over his shoulders, hand rubbing ever so softly at his greying curls. You bite at the skin under his ear and he gives your ass a huge squeeze. Groaning at how his big hands barely hold all the meat there. He couldn't wait to touch and gnaw at this body he loved.

At the foot of his bed, he taps your leg as if telling you to get down. You stand in front of his massive overbearing figure, staring up at him lustfully. You grab the bottom of your compression tank top and pull it over your head, revealing your unsupported chest. Your heavy tits fall a bit.

"My god," Joel falls to his knees in front of you, face nearly level with your pebbled nipples. Both his hands grab a fistful of each, rolling them in his palm. Your sweet noises fill the room and he swears he might've just came in his pajama pants right there. He takes his teeth and bite at the fat above your leggings, licking and sucking at a sensitive part of you. Literally and figuratively.

Joel abandons your chest to yank your leggings and panties down in one move, coming face-to-face with your prickly oozing pussy. He can't restrain himself much longer, spinning you around he pushes you down into his mattress.

He spreads your ass open with both hands, the chub of your lips open ever so slightly as the slick between them strings together.

"Perfect cunt." That's when you feel the chill of liquid spat right onto your puckered hole, dripping down to your clit. He leans in, tongue catching the tangy mixture of your slick and his saliva, right on your throbbing clit.

You screech into the sheets, so turned on from his actions. As he licks up to dip his tongue into your hole, one hand that's holding you open sneaks up your back, to your neck and yanks your head up.

"Nu-uh, let me hear you, baby girl." He demands as he pauses to throw his shirt off as fast as possible — not wanting to leave your cunt for too long without the warmth of his mouth.

He sloppily makes out with your cunt as it clenches and unclenches under his tongue, his beard prickling at your skin. Like he wants your scent all over him for as long as possible.

"Ohh daddy, more more," you whisper hazily, hand reaching back to grab his head desperate to have him as deep as possible.

Joel stops as he processes your choice of title. "What was that, darlin'?"

You freeze at his serious tone. Just now realizing what you've called the man. "Oh my god, I'm s-" Joel grabs your wrist and pins it against your lower back — thick middle and ring finger hooking into you with no warning. Your wetness aiding in the rapid slide of them.

He spits on your puckered hole again and abandons your wrist to land a harsh smack against your ass.

"Only dirty girls say that word, baby. Are you daddy's dirty girl?" He edges you on as he spanks you again on the opposite side. Hard. Unsparing. A side of Joel you've never seen. And oh, does it make you feel that coil tightening within you.

"Mmmm yes yes 'm your dirty girl, daddy!" You groan loudly, eyes swelling with fresh tears. But not tears of pain from earlier, pleasure.

Joel's fingers fuck into you harder, thumb now rubbing at your clit as he leans forward to prod his tongue at your asshole. "Cum for me, my nasty sweet girl. Drench my face. Let me taste you even more." He halts his fingers knuckle deep, hooked inside your cunt as he presses into that spot on repeat. Like he's stroking it out of you.

That's all it takes for you to silently scream as you squirt all over his lower beard covered face and your thick inner thighs, that nearly squish his head from how hard you're coming. Joel just keeps himself situated, never letting up. Allowing you to completely let go and rut back into him, telling him you need more.

"Thaaat's it, my good fuckin' girl.” He praises as he kisses your cunt and ass, he leans over your face capturing your lips in a kiss so messy and depraved. “Open that mouth.” Spitting roughly onto your tongue with a groan as you taste your sweetness that he knows he will forever be addicted to. No chance of recovery.

He ruts his thick bulge into your ass as you whine needly.

"Really want you to fuck my face, now." You beg, hand reaching down to grope him through his loose pjs.

"Mmmmm," he murmurs as his hips keep rutting into you. "Tonight is about you, baby. M' gonna stuff your tight cunt so fuckin' deep you'll feel it in your throat, don't worry." And with that promise, he releases himself, throbbing cock slapping against his lower tummy. You flip onto your back just to see it and your eyes widen at the sight before you.

You always knew it was huge just from perception, but god. It's thicker than your wrist, and looks like it would prod into your cervix. Painful even. Joel senses the worry on your face as he pushes your legs back against your chest. Admiring the way your stomach folds into itself, soft roll after roll. And the thickness of your inner thighs lays heavy. He just wants to get down and feast on you again but he might die if he doesn't feel you wrapped around him.

"You're in charge here, sweetheart. Understood?" He explains as he rubs his fat cock head up and down your swollen slit — notching on your opening with every downward stroke.

You nod slowly, peeking down at the monster between your legs once more. He squeezes your ankle, subtly reminding you to vocalize.

"Yes daddy, I understand."

"Good." And with that, he pushes into your fluttering hole. Your eyes roll back immediately, head thumping onto the soft duvet. He pushes in deeper, barely halfway in and he sees your feet and eyes scrunch a bit. It almost feels like he could rip you apart. Maybe it's because you haven't been fucked in a hot minute — or maybe it's just that Joel is so fucking hung. More than any guy you've slept with.

“Deep breath for me, sweetheart.” He soothes you, as soon as he sees your chest fall — he slams the rest of the way in. Hips flush with the back of your thighs. Cock fully sheathed in your warm soaked cunt. Heavy brimming balls pressed against your little puckered hole. “You feel so damn good. Dripping for me.” Joel’s eyes close at the feeling of you hugging him so tight. He suddenly forgets the feeling of any other woman he’s pleased. Utterly devoted to you from here on out.

When he pulls out all the way to his fat tip — it notches on your opening. Like he has to put in that extra effort to fully remove himself from you. But he doesn’t, and starts fucking into you fully. Never half way, never pulling completely out.. but always making sure he reaches the end of you.

“Da- daddy oh, harder please.” You plead, squeezing his forearm at the overwhelming feel of him nudging your cervix with every thrust.

That confirmation of pleasure is all Joel needs to push your legs back even more — ankles by your head — and began a brutal relentless pace. Grabbing a fistful of your jiggling tit and messy hair, he pulls your head up so you can watch how he ruins you for anyone else.

“Ya see that, see how swollen your gettin’ already?” Joel questions as he holds your head perfectly to observe the slight lifted pudge on your tummy. Paired with the way his coarse hair rubs against your swelled clit — it’s a drool worthy sight.

“Cus’ your so big, Joel.” You sigh, eyes fluttering from the primal force he’s using on your body.

A smug grin flicks across his face at the view. Mind consumed by the most perfect woman. Eyebrows turning inward, the little lines between them deepening as you try to comprehend all the emotions in this moment. Removing his hand from your head, he finds your clit and swipes it upward. Over and over. Leaning down, he sucks as much of your breast into his mouth as humanely possible. Tongue flicking the pebbled area, coercing your orgasm from you. “Cum with me, baby.” His muffled command shoots straight to your filled core.

As he feels you spasm around his thickness, he stills balls deep. “There it is, baby…” Spilling his cum inside your warmth. Plugging you, keeping you full of him. Joel relaxes his body against yours, finding your mouth to kiss you gently. Sweaty foreheads against one another. Joel goes to push off of you, his comforting body heat about to be ripped away.

"No! Wanna feel you longer, please."

Your protest makes Joel's heart surge. "Of course, sweet girl." Wrapping his large arms around you, he flips you both so that your soft plush body lays above him. The new angle makes his spent cock nudge a bit deeper, you both moan at the faint squelch of his cum overflowing your cunt. "You're so perfect," he mutters.

Smiling into his full chest, you leave a swift kiss. "So are you. Thank you for this. For.. everything."

Joel's hands finds your back as he begins gentle strokes onto your supple skin, his head resting atop your own. "Thank you, darlin'. I want you to understand something, you might just be the finest thing that ever happened to Sarah and I. Y'know, she didn't really want to see her mom. Never had the best relationship with her. She just wanted to spend the remainder of the summer havin' ya over everyday to swim and all. That girl admires you more than anyone."

Eyes foggy, you shift to gaze up at him. "And what does her father think?"

Joel pauses briefly, rich brown orbs beaming into yours. "Think she's damn right. She didn't want me to tell you this, but she left so I could have some alone time with you — take ya out. Scolded me sayin' by the time she's back, we better be together." He laughs at the thought, you join him. Picturing that 4'9 ball of fire lecturing her father on the rules of dating.

"So, you're asking me out Miller?" You question with a heavy hopeful heart.

"Should've done it forever ago, darlin'." He confesses, placing a delicate kiss on your temple.

And with that, you place your head back onto the warm chest of the man you've craved your entire life. Realizing, ever since that day where he first greeted you with that sultry gentleman voice — you were never truly alone.

thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Why Writers Don't Finish Writing Their Stories, and How to Fix It

Hello fellow writers and storytellers,

The journey of writing a story is an exhilarating adventure, but it's not without its share of obstacles. Many of us have embarked on a creative endeavor, only to find ourselves mired in the struggle to finish what we started. In this blog post, I'll unravel the common reasons why writers don't finish their stories and explore practical strategies to overcome these hurdles and reignite the flame of creativity.

The Perils of Unfinished Stories

As writers, we often find ourselves in the throes of unfinished tales, grappling with the intricate web of characters, plots, and themes. There are several reasons why the ink dries up and the story remains untold. Let's shine a light on the familiar adversaries that stand between us and the triumphant completion of our narratives:

1. Lack of Planning:

Some of us brazenly dive into our stories without a clear roadmap, resulting in uncertainty about the direction of the plot and the fate of our characters. The lack of a solid plan can lead us astray, leaving our stories wandering in the wilderness of aimlessness.

2. Self-Doubt and Perfectionism:

Ah, the relentless whispers of self-doubt and the siren call of perfectionism! These twin adversaries can cast a shadow over our creative vision, compelling us to endlessly revise and perfect the early chapters, trapping us in a whirlpool of perpetual edits.

3. Time Management:

Balancing the demands of daily life with the ardor of writing can be akin to walking a tightrope. The struggle to find consistent time for our craft often leaves our stories languishing in prolonged periods of inactivity, longing for the touch of our pen.

4. Writer's Block:

The mighty barrier that even the most intrepid writers encounter. Writer's block can be an insurmountable mountain, leaving us stranded in the valleys of creative drought, unable to breathe life into new ideas and narratives.

5. Lack of Motivation:

The flame that once burned brightly can flicker and wane over time, leaving us adrift in the murky waters of disillusionment. The initial excitement for our stories diminishes, making it arduous to stay committed to the crafting process.

6. Fear of Failure or Success:

The twin specters that haunt many writers' dreams. The apprehension of rejection and the unsettling prospect of life-altering success can tether us to the shores of hesitation, preventing us from reaching the shores of completion.

7. Criticism and Feedback Anxiety:

The looming dread of judgment casts a long shadow over our creative endeavors. The mere thought of receiving criticism or feedback, whether from peers or potential readers, can cast a cloud over our storytelling pursuits.

8. Plotting Challenges:

Crafting a cohesive and engaging plot is akin to navigating a labyrinth without a map. Faced with hurdles in connecting story elements, we may find ourselves lost in a maze of plot holes and unresolved threads.

9. Character Development Struggles:

Breathing life into multi-dimensional, relatable characters is a complex art. The intricate process of character development can become a quagmire, ensnaring us in the challenge of creating personas that drive the story forward. (Part one of Character Development Series)

10. Life Events and Distractions:

Unexpected events in our personal lives can cast ripples on our writing routines, interrupting the flow of our creativity and causing a loss of momentum.

Rallying Against the Odds: Strategies for Success

Now that we've confronted the adversaries that threaten to stall our storytelling odysseys, let's arm ourselves with strategies to conquer these barriers and reignite the flames of our creativity.

Embrace the Power of Planning:

A clear roadmap illuminates the path ahead. Arm yourself with outlines, character sketches, and plot maps to pave the way for your story's journey.

Vanquish Self-Doubt with Action:

Silence the voices of doubt with the power of progress. Embrace the imperfect beauty of your early drafts, knowing that every word brings you closer to the finish line.

Mastering the Art of Time:

Carve out sacred writing time in your schedule. Whether it’s ten minutes or two hours, every moment dedicated to your craft is a step forward.

Conquering Writer's Block:

Embrace the freedom of imperfection. Write, even if the words feel like scattered puzzle pieces. The act of writing can unravel the most stubborn knots of writer's block.

Reigniting the Flame of Motivation:

Seek inspiration in the wonders of the world. Reconnect with the heart of your story, rediscovering the passion that set your creative spirit ablaze.

Reshaping Fear into Fuel:

Embrace the uncertainty as an integral part of the creative journey. Embrace the lessons within rejection and prepare for the winds of change that success may bring.

Navigating the Realm of Criticism:

Embrace feedback as a catalyst for growth. Constructive criticism is a powerful ally, shaping your story into a work of art that resonates with readers.

Weaving the Threads of Plot:

Connect the dots with fresh eyes. Step back and survey the tapestry of your plot, seeking innovative solutions to bridge the gaps and untangle the knots.

Breathing Life into Characters:

Engage with your characters as if they were old friends. Dive into their depths, unraveling their quirks, fears, and dreams, and watch as they breathe life into your story.

Navigating Life's Tempests:

Embrace the ebb and flow of life. Every pause in your writing journey is a chance to gather new experiences and perspectives, enriching your storytelling tapestry.

The Ever-Resting Pen: Harnessing the Power Within

Fellow writers, the journey of completing a story is filled with peaks and valleys, each offering us the opportunity to sharpen our resolve and unleash our creative potential. As we stand at the crossroads, staring at the canvas of unfinished tales, let's rally against the odds, armed with the power of purpose, passion, and perseverance.

Let the ink flow once more, breathing life into tales left untold, and watch as your stories triumphantly reach their long-awaited conclusion. You possess the power to conquer the adversaries that stand in your way, and within you lies the essence of untold narratives waiting to unfurl onto the page.

Here's to the journey that lies ahead, the stories waiting to be written, and the unyielding spirit of creativity that thrives within each of us.

Warm regards and unwavering encouragement, Ren T.

[landossnorriss]

i see you - pt.2 | ln x she.

Pairing: lando x she. Summary: lando and his lady make it through media day in spa. series links. Word Count: 1.4ishk Warning: some angst, some hurt, some healing, just the love and support i hope lando is getting tbh.

there were very few times that she was free to attend back to back races with lando. it was more often than not she tried to line up her time off so they could spend his breaks together but following hungary a few well placed phone calls had switched things around. anything that needed to be done critically was done so over zoom and the rest was simply put on pause.

she knew that lando felt bad about it, but the sure sign that he needed her was the way he had simply accepted her moving everything around without much of a fight. she had tried it before, after austria and a few other races and insisted that he would be fine on his own. when it had come down to it this week though and he tried to find the words to send her on her way and actually let her go and do her own thing the words he knew he should stay had stuck in his throat and instead he had found himself infinitely grateful to have her in his life.

things had been okay, bearable at least, whilst they had been in france with p and max. with his love around he hadn't needed to be on his phone too much and the noise had been easy to block out but when it had come to wednesday night and he had finally braved the storm his stomach had been left rolling.

the team orders that he had managed to silence were suddenly back and in full swing, the calls with andrea ever since the face had been loud and clear in his mind. he had been in calls for hours at this point, as they covered what he would and wouldn't say and in each of them lando had found himself wishing zak was around, someone in his corner but the message had been understood - you race for mclaren or you don't race at all.

lando had looked at her then, and that was when she had known she made the right call as he ended his meeting and she wrapped herself around him as tightly as she could. would she be able to kiss away the self doubt she could see creeping into the back of his mind? did they really think he had such a little shot at winning the wdc that they wouldn't give him that extra push to help him get there?

the real guilt had hit lando when he'd checked the news around oscars win and the headlines had painted him a villan. that much she knew he could have stomached on a normal day had it not been a dark cloud of sweet oscars first win. she'd reassured him as they laid in their bed trying to sleep before press day that it was going to be okay, that oscar understood but each time he managed to pull apart the differences in their wins. the atmosphere, the celebrations, the team spirit, each pieces he managed to pick at another blow to the carefully crafted shell he wore for the rest of the world.

as media day rolled around and the boarded their flight she stuck close to him, her fingers linked with his constantly as she questioned just how well he was going to wear that persona today. how much damage would each story he was forced to tell today do to him?

lando for the most part did what he needed to do, he wore the team name with a smile she knew didn't reach his eyes but the rest of the world would find beautiful anyway. "how are you holding up?" the question was loaded as she wrapped herself around him in a tight embrace, offering a beaming smile at the kiss he pressed to her nose, the driver determined to do everything he could to recharge in the small break he got for the day.

lando knew they were all waiting to tare him apart, he could see the doubt in each reporter's face when he had given his well rehearsed answers. but the guilt of clouding oscars win was genuine and he would do everything he could to back pedal that part at least. the team... well he didn't know how he felt about the team right now. "i'm tired, but eternally grateful that you're here you know?" he sighed as he lent on her with more of his body weight than he likely should be everything else was just so heavy he needed a minute to just, lean on her.

"want me to go into the next round of interviews? give me that cap and let me at em?"

lando could only raise a brow at her offer because he had been swiping her phone off her for the past two days to stop her from reaching out to post any of her thoughts and feelings on the weekend that had just gone. "no love, i think we're safer if you stick to being the best girl a guy could ask for." would he have been able to get through this weekend? he really wasn't sure. "is it mad i almost wish i could just say i didn't want to race this weekend?" he asked quietly, his thoughts just for her as his hands moved up and down her back a little.

she couldn't help the way her frown formed at the thought, she wasn't sure she had never known lando not want to race. ever. "don't let them win lando." not stella, not the media, not anyone that was doubting him at this point could undo what they were doing to him. how could they not see that? "you're p2 lan, you did that, not your team no one gifted you a damn fucking thing, you'd be much closer to p1 if you had a team that worked with you and this weekend was shitty but it doesn't define who you are as a racer ok?" that much she would not budge on.

letting his face soften lando nodded as he buried his head in her neck for a moment, taking in everything about her that kept him grounded. he truly didn't know what he would do without her here this weekend, press day was bad enough without the thought of having to do it all alone and the results this weekend. god if he won it was going to cause more harm for the team, more shit for osc, if he lost it was only going to validate everything that people had been saying to him about miami. "you're right i just...tell me you see me?" so much of this week already felt so perfectly crafted he needed to know, there was one person that still saw everything.

she felt her heart break all over again at the request and whilst it had been a long standing mission to make this man feel so loved, the desire to do so only increased as her eyes locked onto his ocean green ones. "lando norris, i see you, i adore every single part of you and i will protect you with every part of me do you understand, not a single thing that happens this weekend defines anything about you if it's outside of your control. do you see you too my love?" pressing to her toes she let her lips capture his softly, her nose scrunching at him slightly with a face that usually set him off into giggles.

today the slight chuckle he could muster for her was enough. "i'm working on it." seeing himself the way she did, was the hardest part of it all. "just a few more bits and we're out of here love." all he wanted was more time to sleep and wrap himself in her.

"i'm going to head to the hotel, get us pizza, get notting hill set up, text me when you're ten minutes away and i'll meet you in the shower?" she offered lightly as he reluctantly pulled away from her. "i'm going to kiss every single inch of you i love." and she'd do it on repeat all night till he believed her too.

giving a low groan lando nodded, the description of their evening his very definition of perfection when he was feeling like this. "i still do know what i did to deserve you, i shouldn't be too much longer and we'll all be being driven back." he nodded as he straightened himself out, making sure his hat was back in place as he looked out to where people were milling. "wish me luck baby?" he hesitated, fingers drumming on the door as he lingered to keep sight of her.

"you don't need luck baby, you're lando fucking norris."

*pics from landoupdates <3

[pomefioredove]

nightmares

summary: some chars I think would take care of a reader who has nightmares type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, vil, lilia, silver, malleus additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, this is self indulgent lol, platonic or romantic, not proofread, maybe a little ooc for a few ones

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

he initially assumes you're just staying up to slack off

you are friends with Ace and Deuce, after all

it takes a good scolding from him before you sheepishly admit that you've been having nightmares and thus losing sleep

now, Riddle comes from a family of doctors. he's no psychiatrist, but surely he can find a way to help you sleep despite it, right?

he tries everything- chamomile tea, weighted blankets, he even turned a blind eye when Ace and Deuce "borrow" a sleeping potion from the lab

nothing works

of course, this drives him mad. it seems like such a simple problem, and yet your body resists everything

your grades are suffering, and even worse, you seem like a walking corpse

he takes it upon himself to find a solution no matter what

and, of course, you have nothing to lose, so you indulge him

nothing medical or magical helps

eventually, he picks up a big psychology book and gets to work on the last thing he can think of

suddenly you're having tea and "talk time" with him twice a week at 4 PM sharp

turns out he kinda likes playing therapist

and if you're late to an appointment, it's off with your head

now you're starting to regret being his guinea pig, as thankful as you are

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫

you can't what?

sleep?

you can't sleep?

he laughs right to your face, much to your annoyance

who can't sleep? it's easy!

you begrudgingly explain your nightmare problem and he finally shuts up (for once)

after a long silence, he grunts something about learning from the master

big surprise, all of his "master lessons" just mean he gets to use you as a body pillow while you watch

very helpful.

eventually, as much as you hate to admit it, it starts to help

having something soft and warm protectively wrapped around you is as comfortable as it gets

you start managing to sleep through the day undisturbed

then nights

Leona boasts to everyone about fixing their beloved prefect's problem, but even after you're well rested, he's still dragging you back to his favorite nap spots

turns out he doesn't mind the company so much, either

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

"those eyebags are just dreadful, prefect,"

always perceptive and eternally critical

(AKA he's worried)

he knows right off the bat that something's up, but he doesn't press for answers until you come to him yourself

as tempted as he is to step in, he doesn't want to pressure you to share something you don't want to

he accepts your pleas for help (he's worried) simply because he doesn't want your performance to suffer (he's soooo worried)

he starts out through traditional means- teas, oils, setting your routine to perfection- and eventually starts brewing potions for you

only one per week, he doesn't want you to become reliant

and the side effects can be... a little disruptive

one morning you spontaneously collapse in his arms on the way to your first class

he has to drag you back to Ramshackle to rest, despite your insistence

eventually, he eases you into talking about the dreams

he's there to comfort you about them, someone to lean on (though just for you)

𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫

I mean... it's Silver

poor guy probably stumbled into one of your terrifying nightmares by accident

after that he started trying to subtly guide your dreams back to normal

when he gets to, of course

you're not even aware of it in your waking life, and he has no intentions of making his good deed known

it does give him the tiniest sense of accomplishment, though

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚

similarly to Silver, he's got a thing with sleep

his beloved prefect isn't sleeping well because of nightmares? he wants to help!

(please let him help)

he definitely won't let you refuse out of humility or embarrassment

he'll get you to rest and make sure all of your dreams are pleasant at no cost!

(AKA at the low, low cost of getting to see you so cute in your sleep. you're like a cat to him)

he will never not be fascinated by you

he's so pleased about being your unconscious protector; it makes him feel so wanted

his cute little child of man!

𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞

Lilia is no stranger to bad dreams

he's lived a long time; he's seen some things

every once in a while he, too, wakes up covered in sweat and tears

he can't help but feel a sense of longing when you describe your situation

you poor little thing!

right away he offers to keep watch over you, as if guarding you from an unseen enemy force

he's up most of the time, anyway

watching you is no problem!

you think that sounds reasonable enough

by night two you wake up in the early morning with his arms around your waist and his face buried in the crook of your neck

little bastard is definitely stealing your body heat

you don't say anything, though- you haven't had a nightmare since

(and neither has he)

[alexlwrites]

𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚:  The one where everytime you get dumped you pretend that you never met the guy before to mess with their heads. To the point that if you run into them somewhere you reintroduce yourself and act like you’ve never seen each other before.

Enters fuckboy Jungkook who disappears after your night together, not knowing how much he was about to regret that choice.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I’m truly sorry for this sad excuse of an update.

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 - 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

(<<< part one)

“I can’t believe you’re doing this again” Jane’s voice rang through the phone as you walked down the streets towards your desired coffee spot.

You also couldn’t believe you were doing that again. You tried your best to live your life with no regrets, but men made it very hard.

“Have you seen him since he fled the crime scene?”

“Stop calling it a crime scene” you snapped.

“Well, have you?”

Your silence was enough of an answer. No, you had not seen or heard from Jungkook since he ran away from your bedroom in the dead of night, leaving behind only the smell of cologne and, funnily enough, a single sock. When you woke up that day to an empty bed, sheets crumbled and a mattress indented on the side where he had slept, all you could muster was a tired sigh of disappointment. 

And to be completely honest, you were disappointed with yourself, not Jungkook. You expected nothing less than a quick escape of him. But you should’ve known better than to hope for anything. Despite everything, you were still an idealist at heart and you thought that maybe just this once…

You shook your head obstinately. You had learned early on that no good would come from moping around for men who would never once feel any regret for their thoughtless actions and if your pain were to be always one sided, then it was better not to feel any at all. Not to dwell on it, move on, learn from it and be better. Or be worse, sometimes, as self-improvement was not always your goal.

Sometimes, you chose to listen to the tiny revengeful angel on your shoulder - who kind of sounded like Taylor Swift - that screamed for violence and vindication.

As your failed relationships started to pile up, you did reach a point where you had to wonder if you were the problem, as it was the canonical event of all 20 something women. But observation, therapy, critical thinking and hereditary pettiness brought you to the decision that it was not, in fact, your fault. At least not all of it. 

With that in mind, you left only the smallest of time slots in your booked and busy schedule to ponder and grieve over the fickle nature of boys’ interests. You had better, more important things to do, such as mindlessly scroll through Minecraft/AITA videos and save pilates routines that you were never gonna do. 

Still, in an experience intrinsically feminine, you allowed yourself a little treat to cope with the slight burn of despondency in the back of your mind. 

And so you directed yourself to the bougie coffee house near campus, hoping to drown your sorrows with an aggressively sweet and overly caffeinated drink. 

“You should slash his tires”

“Jane, please, we have talked about this.”

“You should totally slash his fucking tires!"

"Saying it louder is not gonna make me agree with you! Jane…"

Suddenly your eyes found Jungkook's across the room filled to the brim with depressed, financially irresponsible students, making you pause and hold back the urge to curl your lips in distaste. It bothered you that even with scared eyes as big as saucers and hunched shoulders to appear smaller, Jungkook still managed to look good. 

But you knew better than to let him know how much his presence and pretty face annoyed you. Boys like Jungkook only cared about having an impact on people’s life, very rarely caring if it was good or bad. He wanted a reaction out of you and you learned better than to give those away so carelessly.

So you frowned and looked away, the words practiced on your lips as you said “Some guy is staring at me.”

Jane laughed loudly on the phone “You’re a psycho, you know that?”

“I don’t know who it is, Jane, some dude” you stole a quick glance at him, finding vengeful glee at his shocked expression.

“Send me a pic of his reaction, I’m posting it on TikTok.”

You continued playing your part, ignoring your sister’s interruptions as you usually did “Of course I’m carrying a taser, Jane, I’m not an animal…”

“I’ll give you 5 bucks to tase him.”

“You know what, this coffee is not even worth the visual harassment, God I hate men…”

You walked out of the coffee house, hand empty but with a fulfilled sick sense of accomplishment as you stepped out into the street with a shit-eating grin.

“I hope you know what you’re doing” Jane said and you could hear the smile in her voice. Out of your two sisters, Jane was never the one to tell you to not do something, preferring to let you make your own mistakes.

And boy, did you. 

You left your big, beautiful, tattooed mistake behind you, ready to move on to something less prone to disappointment, such as fictional men and your Stardew Valley husband “Dont worry” you told your sister “I don’t.”.

—

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, left eye twitching slightly at your unbothered expression.

After your confusing exit from the coffee shop and a good amount of jabs from his friends, Jungkook had to hunt you down across campus, finding you sitting under a tree with a book in your hands, looking way too peaceful for someone who just had humiliated him.

You looked down at your book with an arched eyebrow “Kegels, clearly. Why?”

“No, I mean…” Jungkook’s frustration was rising by the second, the vein on his neck jumping out “Why are you acting like you don’t know me?”

You frowned.

 “Do I know you?” you asked, face doubtful.

“We have classes together?”

You blinked, impassive.

“We went on a date?”

A head shake.

“We slept together!”

“Nope, can’t say it rings any bells.”

That’s it. Jungkook was actually convinced you were clinically insane. 

“How can you not remember?”

“How can I remember something that never happened?”

“But it did! You’re crazy! I chased you for weeks!”

You smiled, a trap.

“So, you're, like, in love with me?” you ask, tone condescending. 

Jungkook scoffed and you weren’t sure if it was at the idea of love or loving you. “No, of course not.”

“So in this dream scenario of yours, we had sex but we weren’t together?”

“Trust me, this” he gestured between the two of you “is no dream scenario.”

“Well, aren’t you a charmer” you crossed your arms in front you, defensive “Let me get this straight. You, allegedly, chased me for weeks, but don’t really like me. Then, we had casual, out-of-relationship sex and then what? You banged my head against the headboard so hard I completely forgot about it? Your story is full of holes, my dude.”

You had to fight back the urge to smirk, energy spiking from feeding off of Jungkook’s stupefied confusion.

Nail in the coffin, you shrugged, turning your eyes back to your book “Maybe you weren’t that memorable and my mind deleted you like a childhood trauma.”

A slight left eye spasm was all the reaction you got at first, evolving to the pursing of pouty lips and the clenching of fists.

“You are insane” he said at last after seconds of turning clogs in his barely filled mind.

“Finally you said something true.”

Jungkook was equally bewildered and furious. He didn’t know what your deal was or what you were getting out of this, but your refusal to admit you had sex pissed him off deeply considering how much time and effort he put into getting you together.

“Also, I have to ask” you continued, clearly not done with your pursuit of driving him up the wall “what was your goal with this conversation? Chasing me for weeks to then sleep with me and then come here and tell me you’re not actually interested in me, but being upset when I don’t remember something that didn’t happen… What’s the point?”

Jungkook paused. Truly, he didn’t have much of an end goal in mind, actions fueled only by a bruised ego and a childish, borderline pathological need to prove himself.

When he didn’t answer, you stood up and gathered your things, keeping your head down to hide your poorly concealed satisfaction “I’ll let you ponder on that” you said “Don’t worry about reaching out with an answer, though.”

Finally, you looked up at him, face masked with faux awkwardness. “Anyway. Nice to meet you, I guess? No, actually, not really, this was weird as shit. You seem to have some things to figure out. Get help and take care, my dude.”

And so you left, leaving behind only a cloud of your bergamot perfume and a perplexed Jungkook blinking owlishly. 

There was a sudden influx of thoughts rushing through his usually much less busy mind, the general tone of confusion ringing amongst humiliation and frustration.

When Jungkook first set his greedy eyes on you, he had an inkling that you’d be a handful and in the beginning, you truly were. You took pleasure in making everything much more difficult for him, running from his presence like the plague and approaching the whole subject of him like one would the subject of warts - reluctantly and with caution.

And if he were honest, he wasn’t too sure on why he insisted, but one would be surprised at how far Jungkook would escalate things out of spite and resentment.

It was that same sick combination of flavors that drove him insane for weeks, moving him to pester you until you gave him a chance. And he took it, lord, did he take it.

That night, he made every possible effort to please you, cloaked in his best, non-ranch stained clothes and best non-arrogant behavior.

And when morning came and he opened up his eyes before you did, tired out from the epitome of his bestest behavior, there was a moment of quiet as he watched you eyelids flutter delicately, soft arm draped lightly over his waist.

The night before had been… Fun, he thought, even before you had reached your bedroom. You were weird and used a bunch of words he didn’t know, but you also made him laugh and listened to him babbling about his interest without once looking bored, even going as far as asking questions about his farfetched MCU theories.

And despite your many (too many to count, insurmountable really) differences, you had… Chemistry, one could call it. Thick chemistry, palpable tension, pushing you towards each other despite your previous attempts to go the other way.

But no amount of chemistry could break Jungkook’s routine as inertia pushed him out of your bed, practiced steps light as feathers as he escaped your apartment with one last look to your sleeping form and somehow one less sock on his feet.

And as he left, there was an undiagnosed pounding in his heart he tried to chalk off as the result of his Dorito and monster drink based diet, but his eyes kept flashing back to where you rested even when he was miles away.

He tried to make sense of your persistent presence in the back of his mind. You were cool, he’d give you that. Hot too. But it didn’t matter how your body fit his like they were manufactured together or how your passive aggressive way of flirting (or insulting, he had a hard time telling them apart with you) never failed to steal a snort from his lips. And yeah, it was kind of nice when you called him cute everytime he didn’t understand something you said. It brought a blush to his cheeks and wild butterflies to his stomach, because… Well, no one had ever called him cute after middle school. Hot? Yes. Sexy? Once a week. Biggest dick ever? Yes, both meanings.

But not cute. And deep down, under layers of aggressively oversized shirts and muscles… Jungkook kind of liked being cute.

Jungkook shook that thought away. Despite all that, you were a point he had to make.

And he did! Point proven and undisputed, up until you looked at him like he was a silly little kid throwing a tantrum (which he kind of was) and questioned him and his sanity,

But Jungkook was obstinate and, even more, the sorest of losers. He had proven himself once and would again! He was a man on a mission, he decided, watching you walk away from him while mouthing the words “I’ll pray for you!”. And the mission was to either send you into a psychiatric hospital or get you back into his bed.

And if the butterflies in his stomach fluttered excitedly at that second prospect, he didn’t allow himself to ponder on it for a single second.

°•. ✿ .•°

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[all-purpose-dish-soap]

your shark mer 141 and mer remora fic is one of the only things keeping me sane during finals week so please please please dump all of your thoughts on us because your writing style is so good and i can’t get enough!!!!!!!

thank you!! i sincerely hope finals are going/did go well for you! you should treat yourself with a little something if/when you're finished :)

and the shark mer 141 are always happy to be of service <3

37 / 1k / part 2 of shark mer Ghost tolerating remora mer reader

...

"But I'm fine!"

“You’re not. Look at you. You’re half-asleep.”

You’re not tired, you’re hungry. You shift against him, listless and unable to voice your needs. It's not that you're unwilling to do so--it's that you can't. It doesn't occur to you. Your kind doesn't survive by acting needy around a host.

Ghost notices your silent resistance. You’re weak--too tired, too hungry, too used to taking care of yourself--and still stubborn enough to keep your mouth shut anyway. He bites back a growl of irritation. It would be easier to fight. At least then he could shout it out of you. But no--instead you’re a tired lump in his hand, and your silence doesn’t give him anywhere to push back.

He's got one arm looped around you and both of your hands grasped in one of his. He only carries you like this, holding you by the wrists, when you accompanying him isn't up for debate. When you're being particularly fussy about it, he drags you by the wrists as if your arms were leads.

You don't relish that thought right now. You finally just bow your head, tucking it against his chest in submission.

He feels the change in your body language when you surrender to his control. He notices the way you go almost limp against him. Good. That almost puts the hungry, prowling animal in him to rest. Almost.

It’s a hard thing to explain--the gnawing dissatisfaction he felt watching you comb through the sand, small and alone on the ocean floor. The protective, possessive feeling that took root in his stomach.

It made him want to bite you all over. Not just to punish you, but to warn any other lurking thing who might confuse your loneliness for attainability. Not that he'd ever express the impulse to do so.

"Are you coming back to hunt again?" you ask him.

“Why? Do you miss me that much?”

You huff. "You didn't eat enough."

His fingers tighten around your wrists. You either have an inappropriate sense of humor or no self-awareness whatsoever.

“You're in a mouthy mood, huh?” he remarks tersely. “Must be even more tired than you look.”

He’s not stupid. He knows why you invited yourself along on his hunting trip. But he’s not going to coddle you while you shy away from the issue.

He glances up towards the coral reef, considering. If he brings you straight home, you'll just go back to ignoring your obvious needs. But he won’t let you wander the sea floor like some starving bottom-feeder. And he knows better than to hunt for you—you always refuse fresh kills.

The ones Ghost offers, at least. You seem willing enough to take fresh kills from Gaz.

Pisses him off.

You open your eyes when Ghost changes course and heads for a small cove carpeted in sandbanks. He dumps you unceremoniously into the soft sand. You look around, then at him.

"Stay right here." His tone brooks no argument. He swims off with an irritated lash of his tail before you can ask him why. You're left alone, moonlight curling across the surface of the water far above you and across the sand at your fins. Watching it makes your eyelids grow heavy.

You wake with a start when he returns. He holds in one clawed hand a fish. A live one.

He comes to rest on the edge of the sandbank. He doesn't speak, merely watching with a critical eye as you shake the sand from your scales and rouse yourself back into full consciousness. Then he holds out the live fish to you.

"Eat."

You frown but reach for it. Right as you lay your hands on it, it darts away. You jump in surprise, but one look at Ghost's face tells you he expected exactly that to happen. He can’t stop a small, satisfied smirk from curving his lips. That was exactly the reaction he wanted, and now you’re staring at him with six different accusations on the tip of your tongue.

His eyes fix on you with that smug, condescending look in his gaze. "Didn't Price teach you how to hunt for yourself?"

"Yes," you snap. You push yourself off the sand and dart after the fish, catching nothing but water again.

“Clearly not well.”

You strike out again. And come up empty. Again.

He huffs a laugh. You turn on him. "What's the point of this? You're the one who was going hunting."

He leans back, propping his weight on his elbows as he eyes you. Every failed lunge and dart bring him more satisfaction. "The point is that you should be able to feed yourself," he retorts. "You're too dependent, sweetheart. You’d starve in a koi pond."

You’d love nothing more than to tell him where exactly he can shove his stupid fish, but it’s far too mentally taxing for you to refuse outright. Instead, you cross your arms in a way that just as clearly says I'm not doing that.

Ghost’s eyes glimmer. He isn’t having it.

He pushes himself off the sand and swims toward you, pushing you back against the bank when he crowds himself over your smaller frame.

"You know” —his expression is downright patronizing— “refusing an order is a bad move. Bad things happen to disobedient pets."

"It didn't sound like an order," you mutter, avoiding his eyes.

He grabs your jaw and forces eye contact. "Sure as hell wasn't a suggestion, sweetheart. If you're not gonna ask for food when you need it, you're gonna learn to hunt." His eyes are hard, and that smug, self-satisfied demeanor is buried far underneath. "You learn or I make you learn. What do you say?"

You swallow. "Thank you for catching me such a nice practice fish?"

"Good pet." He releases your jaw.

He moves back onto the sand, propping himself on his elbows once more as he leans back. His black eyes linger on you, and you feel a chill.

"Now go."

...

part 1 / [part 2]

more mer au / more Ghost / masterlist tag

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨

　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: In a seemingly perfect relationship, Y/N and Matt face a silent storm when Y/N, after appearing in a video on Matt's personal channel, is the target of cruel comments that leave her feeling inadequate. Unable to share her insecurities, Y/N distance herself from Matt, wallowing in self-criticism and painful comparisons, until he snaps.

WARNING: Crying, insecurities, comparison, yelling, fighting.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N felt the weight of the world on her shoulders as she tried to navigate the dark mazes of her mind. Since she appeared in the last video on Matt's personal channel, everything had changed. The acidic words of the "fans' comments burned in her memory, leaving deep marks.

It was a vlog-type video, where the couple was spending the day walking through parks, going to museums and strolling through the mall, but comments like "She's not good enough for him", "Matt deserves someone better" and "The other YouTubers' girlfriends are better than this" filled the comments box and echoed in her mind constantly.

What was once a stable and loving relationship now turned into a minefield of insecurities.

Y/N began to see herself through the distorted lens of the comments. She endlessly compared herself to other women on social media – the influencers with flawless skin, sculpted bodies, and perfect smiles. Each comparison only served to erode her self-esteem even more. She wondered what Matt saw in her and if, perhaps, those people were right.

This whirlwind of insecurities made her distance herself from Matt. She avoided dates, responded to his texts in a short and evasive way, and when they were together, her mind was always distant, immersed in thoughts of inadequacy. Matt, in turn, noticed the change but didn't understand the depth of what was happening.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The morning after the video came out, Y/N and Matt sat down at the kitchen table for breakfast. The aroma of fresh coffee filled the kitchen, along with the random sounds of Nick and Chris echoing through the house, but the silence between the couple was deafening. Matt was engrossed in his phone, responding to emails and interacting with his followers.

Y/N, on the other hand, could barely look at him. The words of the comments were eating her up inside.

"Good morning, baby." Matt murmured when noticing her presence long minutes after she had entered the room without taking his eyes off the screen.

"Good morning." Y/N responded, trying to hide the anguish in her voice, her teeth gripping her bottom lip in a death grip, restraining herself from saying anything else.

She stirred the stainless steel spoon inside the white bowl full of cereal, without appetite. Her mind returned to the nasty comments, each word a knife in her heart. She felt inadequate and inferior.

Her eyes occasionally glanced at Matt, who looked so happy and self-assured, and wondered how he could love her when so many people thought she wasn't good enough. When he had thousands of better options than her.

"Do you wanna go to the mall today?" Matt asked, looking up from his phone in confusion seconds after, noticing the unusual silence. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, I am." Y/N lied quickly, nodding her head and forcing a smile. "I just didn't sleep well. Maybe I should stay home today." She shrugged, maintaining eye contact.

Matt accepted the answer without question, returning his attention to the phone a few seconds later. For Y/N, it was a momentary relief, but the pain was still latent, pulsing.

How had he not noticed the sea of ​​pain in her eyes?

Maybe he didn't care anymore.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A few weeks later, Matt decided to take Y/N out to dinner at a restaurant they both loved. He wanted to cheer her up, realizing that she had been distant the last few days. However, Y/N could not escape the mental prison she had constructed.

As they sat, Matt excitedly talked about his new ideas for the Sturniolo Triplets channel and how excited he was to be able to vlog and stream again. Y/N tried to pay attention, nodding her head and keeping her eyes fixed on the boy's face, but her mind wandered to the words that seemed etched into the walls of her mind.

Her orbs momentarily strayed to the tables around hers, noticing other couples made up of beautiful women.

They looked beautiful, confident, and charismatic.

And she felt small and insignificant.

"Did you hear what I said?" Matt asked suddenly with a slight tone of frustration, his brow furrowed and his posture rigid.

"Sorry, I was distracted." Y/N quickly responded, feeling embarrassed, her hands clasped together above her thighs, squeezing her fingers in an act of nervousness.

"You've been so distant lately. What's going on?"

Y/N wanted to spill it all, tell him about the comments, about how inadequate she felt, but the words wouldn't come out. She was afraid Matt would confirm her insecurities.

"Nothing, I'm just tired. Work has been taking a toll on me." The girl lied, avoiding the blue eyes that stared deeply at her.

Matt sighed, clearly worried and annoyed, but accepted the apology.

Dinner continued, but the atmosphere was tense and heavy. For Y/N, every moment was a fight against tears and despair.

He would get tired of her.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A small launch event for one of the Space Camp lines. It was a momentous occasion, and the triplets were excited to take a new, longer step in their Internet career.

Y/N wore her best dress with the best heels and the best makeup, trying to look confident, but inside, she was in pieces.

During the event, Matt was surrounded by people, laughing and talking, interacting with his closest friends, and explaining his role within his brother's brand.

Meanwhile, Y/N felt like a ghost, invisible. Every time someone looked at her, she felt like they were judging her, comparing herself o other women present.

At some point, while Matt was busy chatting with some important guests, Y/N heard two women commenting nearby.

"She's Matt's girlfriend? Wow, she doesn't seem like anything special."

"He could get someone so much better."

The words were like stabs. Y/N felt the ground disappear beneath her feet, and all the air escaped her lungs, her heart freezing.

She needed to get out of there.

The girl quickly walked towards the nearest bathroom and locked herself in a stall, tears streaming down her face, completely ruining the makeup she spent hours doing.

She felt like an impostor, a farce.

When she returned to the event about twenty minutes later, Matt noticed her red eyes and lack of makeup almost instantly, excusing himself from those he was talking to and walking towards her with quick steps.

"Babe, hey, what happened?" Matt asked in a low tone as he approached, worried.

"Nothing, just something got in my eye, I had to take off some makeup to get it out." She lied once again. She was getting good at it. Too good.

Matt looked suspicious but didn't insist, nodding slowly.

Upon arriving home that night, Y/N lay down on the bed next to Matt, the duvet covering half of her body. Matt quickly fell asleep, exhausted from the event, seeming to not have the strength to try to talk to his girlfriend or the will.

Y/N lay awake, staring at the ceiling, thoughts racing a mile a minute.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The culmination of everything happened when Matt decided to share with Y/N ​​a new idea for the channel, something he was really excited about. He had spent weeks planning the boys trip with his brothers and Nate, along with how they would record everything, turning the precious moments into a long vlog, so sharing the finished idea with his girlfriend was a crucial moment for him.

Y/N sat next to him on the large sofa in the living room, curling up on the gray upholstery and trying to focus on the excited words coming out of Matt's mouth, not even giving herself the luxury of feeling surprised at how quickly he spoke - different from his usual self, her mind being far away.

"So what do you think?" Matt asked after finishing his line of reasoning, his eyes fixed on Y/N's face expectantly, waiting for a reaction.

"Ah yes, that sounds good." The girl nodded briefly, smiling slightly, her eyes with a distracted gaze.

Matt frowned, noticing her lack of enthusiasm.

"You didn't even hear what I said, did you?"

"Sorry, I'm just... distracted." She cleared her throat, looking down at her crossed legs.

"I can't handle it anymore." Matt muttered in a low tone, taking a deep breath as his expression closed completely, one of fury taking the place of confusion, standing up abruptly and starting to walk between the television and the sofa in an attempt to calm himself down. "You've been acting so strange, so distant. I feel like I'm talking to a wall all the time. What's happening to you? Where's the bubbly Y/N I used to know?"

Y/N remained silent, tears already beginning to well up in her eyes as she looked at him through her wet lashes, silently begging him to stop, but Matt continued, his voice rising with each word.

"I'm tired, Y/N. Tired of being ignored, tired of trying to figure out what the hell you want. I feel like I'm carrying this relationship alone! You act like you don't care. Do you even care anymore? Because, honestly, it doesn't seem like it, and with each passing day, I become more discouraged with you."

He stopped his steps, breathing heavily, his eyes now fixed on Y/N, waiting for a response. When she finally looked up, her vision was blurred by the tears that were now running freely down her face.

"Matt, I... I'm so sorry." She began, her voice shaky and weak and her throat burning from the force she was trying to stop the sobs. "I didn't mean to make you feel this way. I'm just going through a hard time now-"

"Hard time? This has been going on for weeks! I don't know what else to do to reach you." The brunette suddenly interrupted her, his frustration boiling over. "You refuse to tell me what's going on, and I'm tired of being ignored."

"You don't understand..." Y/N felt a wave of despair take over her heart, shaking her head repeatedly.

"Then make me understand! I can't go on like this, Y/N." The boy ordered with tears in his eyes, his right hand flying to his own hair, ruffling it roughly in an act of nervousness. "Maybe we're not ideal together. Maybe you're not the right person for me!" The words escaped as quickly as his mind could process.

Y/N felt her heart stop for a few seconds, her skin freezing as her throat closed before a loud, ugly sob shot through her like lightning, escaping her lips intensely. Every cruel comment, every insecurity, everything accumulated in her mind at that moment, confirming her worst fears.

"They were right," she thought, "I'm not the one for him."

All she wanted to do most at that moment was run out of that house and away from him, but with the storm outside, her not knowing how to drive and the late hour prevented her from making any hasty decisions, after all, she had nowhere to go. That was her home, or it was meant to be.

Meanwhile, Matt closed his mouth almost instantly, his eyes widening as his mind seemed to process the words he had spilled, feeling the impact of them, his heart aching as if a hand was crushing it hard as he watched the girl he loved breaking down in front of him.

"I didn't mean that, baby. I-I'm so sorry. Oh my-" His words were interrupted by his own sob before his now weak legs began tentative steps towards Y/N, afraid of her reaction.

But Y/N couldn't do anything but cry, her body shaking violently with the strong sobs that escaped her mouth, clawing at the walls of her throat, her face already swollen and wet with the intense tears that fell without stopping.

"N-no, you're right. I'm a fraud. I'll never be good enough for you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for m-making you loose time with me, I'm so sorry! M- Matty, I-I'm sorry-" That was all her mind could process: apologies. Her hands tightened into fists above her thighs, her long nails digging into her palms, drawing blood and hurting the sensitive skin.

"Baby, please, breathe, you're going to hurt yourself if you keep crying like that. Breath, hm? Please." Matt sat down next to her, his left hand pressing against his own eyes roughly, trying to shake away the tears that flooded his blue orbs, while his right hand flew to Y/N's ones, trying to slowly undo the knots of fingers she had created.

"The comments on your channel... about me. Saying that I'm not good enough for you, that you deserve someone better." Y/N began to say again between sobs, pulling in choppy air between one word and another. "I can't stop thinking about it, comparing myself to other women, and the worst of it all? They are all right! I couldn't bear the thought of being close to you and making you look ugly with me, o-or dislocated... so I distanced myself." Y/N's hands that were surrounded by his right one clenched tighter against each other, her skin taking on a reddish tone due to the strength she exerted in her grip, feeling her wrist and arms shaking with nervousness and anxiety.

"I don't-" Matt shook his head, sniffling and blinking repeatedly in an attempt to stop the tears. "I had no idea. I'm sorry for not having noticed, for not having noticed the signs in your way of acting and trying to understand, I'm sorry for acting on impulse and blaming you, love. I'm sorry for having said those horrible things, I'm so sorry, lovey. Why didn't you tell me?" His blue eyes, which looked at her with attention and closeness, carried immense pain for seeing her in such a state and knowing that it was his own fault.

"I just… I didn't know how to tell you. I was afraid that you would agree with them, that you would realize that I really wasn't the right woman for you, and that you would leave me." Y/N choked back a sob, sniffling repeatedly, trying her best to stop her crying, looking up at him as she felt his hand squeeze hers tightly, trying to stop her from keep hurting herself.

Matt's expression softened as his eyes met hers, a mixture of understanding and pain written across his face before he closed them for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"Y/N, you're not weak for feeling all this. Everyone has insecurities, but hiding them from me... you're pushing me away, which caused me to think other things were going on, on my own fault. It was a miscommunication on both sides, but I want to help you, and I can't if you don't trust me, babe."

"I'm so sorry, Matt. I'm so sorry for hurting you, for letting my insecurities get to us. I just... I feel so lost." The girl murmured, her voice lowering in volume considerably, her shoulders slumping even more. "Maybe I'm really not the one for you, you know? Maybe they're all right, and you just have to see it, too."

Matt's heart clenched at her words, and he gently lifted her chin so their eyes could meet again, his orbes traveling repeatedly around her face.

"No, Y/N, don't say that." He whispered fiercely. "You are the one for me. You're everything to me. These comments, they don't know us. They don't know how much you mean to me, how much you complete me."

"But how can you be sure? How can you be sure that I'm not dragging you down?" Y/N's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her breath still hitching from the sobs and her bottom lip trembling.

Matt sighed deeply, his thumb gently stroking her cheek.

"Because I know what we have. I know the love we share, and I see the amazing person you are, even if you don't see it yourself right now. You're not dragging me down. You're my partner, and we face everything together, good or bad. And I'm sorry for making it seem different or the opposite of what it really is by acting like that, I wish I could take it all back." He shook his head, feeling his hear burning with shame.

Her gaze softened slightly, a glimmer of hope sparking within her.

"But the comments... they get to me, Matt. It's like their words are a constant echo in my mind." She sniffled, immense pain surging through her shoulders and back as the adrenaline and tension subsided.

"I get it. I really do." He nodded understandingly. "But we can't let other people dictate our happiness. We have to believe in ourselves and each other. We're stronger than this, Y/N. And I'm here for you, always." His thumb caressed her jawline, lightly wiping the wet trails where the several tears fell.

"I don't want to lose you, Matt. I want to be strong for both of us." A small, tentative smile formed on her lips, the first real smile he'd seen in weeks.

"You don't have to be strong alone." He reminded her, his hand finding hers again, holding it firmly. "We'll be strong together. But you need to talk to me. Let me in, okay?"

"Okay. I'll try. I promise." She nodded, her grip on his hand tightening.

"That's all I ask. Just promise me you'll never feel like you're alone in this. We're a team, sweetheart. And I love you so much." Matt leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"I love you too, Matt." She whispered, a new determination settling in her heart. "And I'll do better. I'll let you in."

"That's all I need. We’ll get through this together." He smiled, a genuine, relieved smile before using his hand holding hers to slowly pull her closer, wrapping his arms around her torso and pulling her upper body to rest against his own, laying her head against his hoodie-covered chest before resting his chin on top of her head, closing his eyes and exhaling deeply, the fresh smell of shampoo filling his nostrils, making him realize how much he missed it.

They stayed there, holding each other, feeling the weight of emotions that had been suppressed for so long. Y/N knew that the road to regaining trust and security in the relationship would be long and difficult for her, but in that moment, wrapped in Matt's arms, she felt a spark of hope.

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[byuno-o]

RETROGRADE PLANETS IN NATAL CHARTS.

NOTE: PERSONAL OBSERVATIONS. HENCE, MIGHT NOT BE APPLICABLE FOR EVERYONE. ONLY FOR ENTERTAINMENT. HENCE, DISCRETION IS ADVISED. DO PROVIDE FEEDBACKS, I LOVE IT. :)

MERCURY IN RETROGRADE

If you have mercury in retrograde in your natal chart, you might deal with aversion when it comes to verbal, direct communication. Putting your ideas and thoughts into clear sentences might not be your forte. However, I've read somewhere that people with Mercury Rx, have really good intuition. I can vouch for this since my brother has this in his 11th house, and boy has he saved himself from bad influences countless times purely because he could sense BS right away. People with Mercury Rx, however, possess a unique way of communicating their ideas and thoughts. They don't necessarily use art, but just different words and their brains are often configured differently. They might see logic in things that others can't, and somehow, everything works fine for them. These people also tend to be profound thinkers and internalize their life philosophies instead of using those philosophies for other, unlike forward mercuries. People with forward mercuries-even the ones with debilitated mercuries use their words and ideas in order to help others. while retrograde mercuries wants the betterment of self. Hence, seeing other perspectives can be difficult for them, and finding balance between conscious and callous communication can be hard. Retrograde mercuries have hard-hitting sense of humour which can be the result of unique communication style. Forward mercuries can choose their words carefully, but retrograde mercuries often cannot, for this is their lesson for their present life.

2) VENUS RETROGRADE

I see people with venus in retrograde having issues with their sense of self, which can be seen in their communication style and sense of humour. Overcompensating outwardly for lack of sensing lack of style and panache that forward Venus tend to possess, even the debilitated ones. yet they can't see their own unique flavour which goes against the conventions. A friend whose venus is in retrograde has the wildest love life in my group. Her standards are high, which stemmed from dealing with problematic, almost karmic relationships. There can be confusions regarding one's own opinion about self, likes, dislikes, and there can be a tendency to see oneself through other's judgements. Finance can be a hard to deal with, overspending can be a problem. Their lesson for their present life is to accept themselves the way they are, and love themselves before looking for love and validation elsewhere. The root cause of almost all of their problems is the lack of sense of strong self and self-validation which come first and foremost. That is the only one they can see their own uniqueness, and leverage it for their benefits.

3) MARS RETROGRADE

These people can deal with heavy procrastination, and lacks efforts when it comes to their dreams and goals. There can be a push and pull effect regarding their individuality. A cousin of mine has mars retrograde, and despite having his mars in Scorpio, he loathes adventures, and risks--and you can also add changes. while people with forward mars can be very courageous--even the debilitated ones, although they need immense pressure to make them feel agitated, people with mars retrograde rather suffer in silence than assert themselves. For them, action-orientation, and assertion can be the lessons for their present lives. However, I also think Mars in retrograde can make one very diplomatic and can make the person possess mercurial qualities. That same cousin have debilitated mercury, yet he sounds the most critical and logical among us when we have to fight for our food rights (jokes) against our grandparents. Rather than have a individualistic nature, these people can harness excellent group qualities. They can suffer through sex related traumas.

4) JUPITER RETROGRADE

People with Jupiter in retrograde may be raised with issues regarding self, religion and higher knowledge. Their viewpoints are very different, and may often come off as illogical. They care very cautious when it comes to voicing their opinions. However, they can possess a very twisted kind of luck. Since I have this, I can vouch for this. I may never get what I want, but what I need always finds me, Unlike people with forward Jupiter who may get what they want just like that. my brother has forward Jupiter in Cancer, and I have never seen a person as lucky as him. Brotha is protected by angels and our family. One order, and the whole family scrambles to obey him. While in my case, I just work hard and get the bare minimum, but the things I get always helps me at times. Getting higher knowledge is especially harder for people with Jupiter in Rx, and may deal with confusion regarding the validity of knowledge. People with jupiter in Rx also deal with lack of mentors and teachers needed to shape their personality and inner world, hence they become vagabonds when it comes to knowledge. It is only them they can rely on for a strong sense of self, hence they may go through hard time alone. It is not like they don't look for help, it's just help never comes, but rewards are worth the pain. There's always a tendency to question everything which may lead to paranoia and overthinking. Yet, they are overly self-righteous, causing relationships to falter. Their main lessons are to have faith in them, and build their unique perspectives.

5) SATURN RETROGRADE

People with saturn in retrograde tends to introspect a lot. The limitations they bear are often internalised. they tend to have problems with authority and authoritative figures, such as father and teachers and boss, yet there is a deep sense of responsibility and lack of discipline. I also have saturn retrograde in my natal chart and well, it is a blessing in disguise. to be honest. I do tend to disregard authority, but there were times when I was asked for help by some authoritative figures. Although I have a deep sense of responsibity, I lack the courage, the strategic mind and the general effort I need to fulfil my dreams, which is why this saturn retrograde is proving to be immensely helpful. There is a strong fear of failure, and the person's success is always delayed. Trust me, I know. While I work twice as hard as my friends, I am often the last person to taste any success. Same is happening with job hunt. I have read that this retrograde is strongly related to past life karma, and I think I might be deal with lessons regarding finance and material gain since I have Saturn in Taurus in 2nd house. These people often deal with loneliness, and the lack of communication from their side only add salt to injury.

6) URANUS RETROGRADE

While Uranus deals with rebellion and one's uniqueness, Retrograding Uranus may often lead to these aspects being internalised by the person. There may be a strong sense for rebellion and forging one's own path, but the person may lack the spine to do so--often relying on others to validate their uniqueness. Changes may come like tornados, ruining their very sense of being, and forcing them to refine everything again and again, until there no sense of old self is there. Unlike Pluto, Uranus retrograde often forces the person's outer world, and outer relationships to change. These people have heightened intuition which not only scares the outer world, but also force it to alienate the person. There is a strong need for rejecting tradition which might stop them from becoming the eccentric person they can be. Note, I am not using 'eccentric' in a negative way. I just think, people with Uranus Rx need to learn showcase their eccentric side to the world. so that innovation can be made. There's a huge between one accepting their eccentricity and showing the world who they actually are. If anything, I think Uranus in Rx is one of the best placements one can have for the sheer creativity it can bestow. These people must have been destined to become pioneers, but their fears of outer rejection had stopped them, hence they ended up with Uranus in retrograde in their present life. They are supposed to let go of the fear in order to fulfil their purpose.

7) NEPTUNE RETROGRADE

So, my other brother has mars, Uranus and Neptune in retrograde. And I kid you not, I have never seen someone so eccentric, so prideful yet so fearful, so disillusioned yet so full of himself till date.

For me, Neptune Retrograde is one of the worst placement one can have. This placement is not about the outer world, but breaking oneself to fill the world with happiness. people with Neptune Rx has to go through a whole journey of living in a illusionary world to become disillusioned and hate the real world, only to realise that there's more than pain and suffering in the world and it is not a utopia. these people have heightened intuition, only to never master it. They get fed with escapism illusion by the universe time and time again, for them to learn to exercise their intuition yet the fog in their mind becomes the biggest obstacle. For a long time, these people believe in, "my way or highway" and "all or nothing." Hence, when faced with failure and pain, they crumble and become disillusioned. Once they see the world as it is, they go through the spiritual quest of learning and unlearning the ways of the world. And acceptance of the worldy woes, and understanding that one can never change the ways of the world but the ways of human minds are the lessons these people have to learn. They have to make peace with the fact that there will pain and suffering, and this is what feels like to be humans. They have to learn to avoid escapism, and grab life by the balls and open their arms to the gifts of intuitions, detachment, art and healing.

8) PLUTO RETROGRADE

I see Pluto retrograde as an eagle which keeps gnawing onto one's guts while the person can do nothing but accept the eagle. The pain never goes aways. People with pluto Rx in their chart internalises every thought, every little or big change, causing them to go through intense overthinking and traumatic relationship changes. The world is never these people's friends. If you think having Pluto placements are tough, look at pluto Retrograde people. Another cousin of mine has this. And she is a control freak, with really great psychological insights. There's obssesion with every little thing, and fear of betrayal and others breaking their walls and trusts. These people live an intense karmic life. If they badmouth someone, they get tenfold of it. If they wish someone bad luck, they get ten fold of it. These people must have done something great or something very loathsome which needs heavy penance and great patience. These people are bound to become great. These people are supposed to learn the ways of the world and help change the world, but on a ground level. What I mean by that is, these people need to learn to accept their shadow side in order to help the ones who have lost their paths to attain goodness. I see people with Pluto retrograde as the ones who has to break a piece of themselves in order to fix others, since they constantly get their heart broken, and trust broken, and fears spitting on their faces until they overcome those fears, and they are constantly forced by the universe to bare themselves naked in order for the world to use their vulnerabilities. Yet, these people rise like phoenix, and continue the cycle until they realise that their higher purpose is to have faith in the ways of the universe and let it run its magic. Good things may take time, but are always worth the wait.

NOTE: I SEE RETROGRADES AS BLESSINGS IN DISGUISE. ALTHOUGH RETROGRADE PLANETS MAKE THINGS HARD, AND ALMOST UNATTAINABLE, HARD TIMES MAKE GREAT PEOPLE. THE TWISTS UNIVERSE PLAYS ON PEOPLE WITH NATAL RETROGRADE PLANETS ARE SUPPOSED TO PUSH THESE PEOPLE TO THEIR EDGES UNTIL THERE'S NOTHING THEY CAN BE FEARFUL OF. FOR GREAT CHANGES NEED GREATER HANDS.

ALRIGHT, DO LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THIS. AND I WELCOME CRITICISM AND HARD HITTING FEEDBACKS WITH OPEN ARMS. JUST MAKE SURE I DON'T HAVE TO SHOW MY FANGS, TOO. :) I LOVE GATHERING NEW INFORMATION, SO UNTIL THEN, MAY GOD BLESS YOU.

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter v

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 14k+

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, tornado of emotions, morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, mean relatives, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, denial, self-deprecating in some areas etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, there is one scene depicting some physical violence (tame) , finally some fluff!, and I won't spoil any more

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: OMG....ignore the fact that this is releasing a month after ch. 4. 🫠 i'm sorry. On the bright side, I'm VERY excited to share this with you AND this actually isn’t the last chapter. There’s one more after! I hope you enjoy 🥰 ALSO, this is GP!Taehyung in this chapter (....😮‍💨)

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"This can't be right," you mutter to yourself for the umpteenth time, eyes heavily fixated on your laptop screen. You've been scrolling through the latest press releases all morning, a cup of tea growing cold beside you.

Ever since Jimin’s text last week, rumors about your ex-husband stepping down from his position at JeonX practically spread like wildfire, with nearly every journalist adding their individual spin on the matter—some suggest personal issues, while others hint at possible disagreements within the company.

Despite the influx of information, however, it all remains too vague and inconclusive. An official statement from the company directly would help clear up speculations, but it’s been crickets. Their silence only makes you consider the validity of the rumors even more.

Why would they make such a critical leadership change right after their newest product launch though?

This question, among others, continuously swirl in the back of your mind and you find the entire predicament ironic. You used to be one of the first to know the ins and outs of the company, easily able to distinguish the truth. Now, you're left in the dark like everyone else, dependent on the media for answers.

Before your eyes have time to skim the next group of articles on your screen, your phone rings.

It's Taehyung.

“Hey,” you answer casually, momentarily forgetting the significance of the call.

“Morning!” His voice is gravelly yet carries a cheerful tone. He seems quite upbeat for a foggy Saturday at 8 a.m. “Are you still okay to carpool to my parents' place today? Tan and I are on our way over.”

Dammit. Of course, this isn’t just any old Saturday—it’s the day of Taehyung’s family gathering. It had slipped your mind that you asked to ride together a few days prior. Given that it would be a five-hour long commute, driving separately seemed less convenient and enjoyable. Besides, you’d miss out on having Tan on your lap, his head poking out of the passenger-side window.

“Yeah, I’m good to go,” you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel. “I’ll be ready when you get here.”

“Great! See you soon.” Taehyung hangs up, and you put your phone down with a deep breath.

To be blunt, you're still extremely nervous about the affair. Surely his family knows who you are and has seen their fair share of articles about you. So how will they react when you show up next to Taehyung at their family function? He says they’ll like you, but it's hard to accept.

Nonetheless, you know how important this family gathering is to him and how much he wants you to be there. Not only is it a family event, but it’s also a celebration of his recovery from a motorcycle accident that could’ve been much worse.

As you pour your cold cup of tea down the sink, you try to push away the unsettling mix of thoughts, focusing instead on the next task at hand— how you should dress. Prior conversations with Taehyung advise you that something polished would be ideal for the occasion, as his family appreciates a touch of elegance, yet your mind blanks on a tangible option. Surely, there’s something in the back of your closet that would do the trick. Right?

Well…you’re right-ish.

Upon searching through rows of hangers, arms growing tired, you finally find a somewhat suitable sundress. You’re hoping it won’t look too casual, but you don’t seem to have a better alternative with your closet currently overtaken by work clothes.

Wasting no further time, you quickly slip the dress over your head and observe how it fits in the mirror. Not bad, you think, before deciding on a few complimentary jewelry pieces. The saving grace of this choice of clothing is that it can easily be dolled up, which is exactly what’s needed today.

Soon, you hear the muffling of an engine and when you peek through your bedroom window, you’re unsurprised to see Taehyung’s car pull into the driveway with a very excited Tan poking his head out from the backseat. A small smile forms on your lips at the sight.

Sparing one final look in the mirror, you slide into your shoes, toss your bag over a shoulder, and head outside to meet them.

“Hey!” Per usual, you're met with a warm smile as you hop into Taehyung's car but before you can return the greeting, Tan bounds onto your lap, tail wagging eagerly. “God, I’m so sorry about him,” Taehyung reaches for his dog, but you quickly reassure him it’s alright.

“I’m happy to see you too, Tan,” you laugh, petting him affectionately. Your focus then shifts over to Taehyung, "Thanks for coming to get me."

“Of course,” he replies, smile widening as he watches Tan settle into your lap. “I’m really glad you’re coming with me," he continues, pulling away from the curb. "My parents are looking forward to meeting you.”

You nod, trying to calm your fluttering nerves. “I’m looking forward to meeting them too.” This time, when you glance his way, you take in his attire—a crisp white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and black dress pants. It’s a classic look, yet it seems oddly refreshing on him. It's not like you expected Taehyung to look bad or anything; far from it, but did he always have to look this good? A queasy feeling soon settles in the pit of your stomach...maybe you should have worn something else.

Before you're able to fully turn away from him, Taehyung speaks up. “You look really nice today,” he says softly, eyes lingering over your face and down your body before shyly refocusing on the road. “That dress is beautiful on you—it really suits you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you reply with a shy smile of your own, unexpectant of his comment. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Something about the subtle exchange of compliments stirs a bundle of nerves in both of you and even with averted eyes, neither of you finds it entirely unpleasant.

The rest of the drive is long, but luckily, soon fills with lighthearted conversation and laughter. It's become easier and easier to be around Taehyung, you think.

After more than a few bathroom breaks—mostly due to Tan’s persistent whining—you finally catch sight of Taehyung’s parent’s house.

It’s even more picturesque than you imagined, with its charming architecture and well-tended garden. In the distance, the ocean glimmers, tying the scene perfectly together.

“I meant to mention earlier, but my parents have an oceanfront view,” Taehyung says casually, pulling up to the house. “We can go down there later if you’d like. It’s private access.”

“Really?” You glance over at him with anticipation, your excitement clear. You can already taste the saltiness of the water. “If it’s really okay, I’d love that.”

“It’s more than okay,” he assures with a smile. “In fact, it’s a done deal. The best time to go is in the evening. We can even use the excuse that we need to take Tan for a little stroll if necessary. Family bonding can get a bit overwhelming without a few breaks.” He lets out a chuckle but stops when he notices your slightly demure expression.

“Hey,” he turns to you with gentle eyes. “Everything okay?”

You blink, momentarily pulled from your thoughts. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking it’s been a while since I’ve gone to any kind of family affair. They know I’m coming, right?”

Understanding your apprehension, Taehyung shifts the gear into park and places a light hand on your arm. “Absolutely, and please believe me when I say they’re more than ready and excited to meet you. They’ve asked about you so many times—I’m pretty sure I’ve lost count. I’m really happy you’re here with me too, so I hope you don’t feel like you’re intruding because I promise you’re not at all. And if at any point you need a moment to yourself, take it. I want you to feel as comfortable as possible, and I’m confident my family will want the same.”

With his hand on your arm, you find yourself wrapping yourself in the comfort of the gesture, nerves slowly easing in the process. “Thanks, Tae,” you reply, feeling a tad lighter than before.

“Are you ready?”

You nod, signaling him to remove his hand to take the key out of the ignition. As his hand leaves your arm however, you feel a subtle, unexpected shift—wishing the warmth of his touch could linger just a moment longer.

But hold up.

Since when did he affect you like this?

Dwelling on it further proves to be futile because before you can blink, the house’s front door swings wide open, revealing an older, petite woman with a kind and inviting smile. You both step out of the car immediately, Tan happily trotting around the yard confidently.

The woman pulls Taehyung into a big hug once close enough, and it’s all the evidence you need to deduce that she must be his mother.

“We were wondering where you were!” she starts. “Everyone’s here except you.” It’s a light scold, not that Taehyung minds from the giant grin spreading across his face.

“Forgive me, Mom. I guess we’re fashionably late,” he replies.

Mrs. Kim looks up and down her son with adoration, hands still gripping his arms. “Look at you,” she coos, as if proud. “My son is so handsome. I’m so happy to see you here, healthy and well.”

“Mom, this is __.”

Her eyes then shift to you, standing somewhat awkwardly beside them. If possible, her warm expression brightens even more, taking you by surprise.

“My goodness, I’m being so rude," she says, stepping toward you. "It’s wonderful to finally meet you, honey. Are you okay with hugs?”

“Sure.” You offer a sincere smile and embrace her. When you do, you feel a sense of peacefulness that you hadn’t ever before, soothing any lingering tension. You can’t help but assume that many of Taehyung’s qualities must come from her.

“I’m so pleased that my son brought you today,” she says, pulling back from the hug. She takes in your clothing as well. “You're absolutely lovely, my dear. Doesn't this color work wonderfully on her?” She glances at Taehyung, who merely nods in agreement.

“You’re the one who looks beautiful, Mrs. Kim,” you return the compliment, feeling a tad embarrassed by all the praise. “I love your earrings by the way. Are they jade?”

She nods, pleasantly. “Thank you for noticing. They’re indeed jade. My husband gifted them to me for our anniversary last year. I told him he didn’t need to get me anything, but that man is so persistent. Speaking of which, you should come inside and meet him.” She turns around at once and ushers you and Taehyung into the house. He allows you to go first.

As you follow Mrs. Kim up the steps, Tan bounds ahead excitedly. The aroma of delicious food fills the air the further you walk, and soon you’re greeted by a cozy, homey atmosphere.

Finally, you find Taehyung’s father in the kitchen, washing his hands at the sink. “Honey, Taehyung’s here and he brought __ with him.” Upon hearing your name, the man quickly dries his hands on a towel and extends a friendly hand your way, eyes twinkling.

“Hello, __! I’m glad you could come today. We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Likewise,” you reply, “Thank you for welcoming me into your home. It’s gorgeous in here.”

“Well, we have our son to thank.” He directs his attention to Taehyung, reaching out and patting his son on the back with a proud smile. “He bought this house for us after all. He’s a good son.”

What?

You glance at Taehyung in surprise, intrigued to learn more about this new bit of information. However, seemingly flustered by the comment, you decide it’s better to save it for another time. His mother is quick to step in.

“Taehyung, dear, why don’t you show __ around and introduce her to everyone?” she suggests smoothly. “They’re all in the living room. We’ll gather everyone to have lunch soon.”

Taehyung nods at the suggestion and begins leading you through the house, until you reach the living room at the end of the hall. The room is even larger than you anticipated upon entering, its high ceilings finished with a delicate glass chandelier. A grand piano sits in the far corner as well where a number of children huddle together, each taking turns playing a few notes.

One by one, Taehyung starts introducing you to his relatives and despite your initial apprehension, each person you meet greets you with nothing but warmth and kindness. Not even a single person shows discomfort towards you or makes a dig into your personal life (though you’re certain they’re well aware of who you are). It’s no wonder Taehyung boasts about his family so often—they truly are a close-knit and respectable group of people.

At least, that’s what you think until Taehyung asks, “Where's Auntie and Uncle? I haven’t seen them yet.”

One of Taehyung’s cousins looks a bit hesitant before replying, “Oh, Tae, I’m sorry, but we haven’t heard anything from them so they might not be coming today. Maybe they had last-minute plans. It’s a bit of a shame, really.”

An odd silence settles over the room at this, conversations lower in volume, and a few knowing glances are exchanged among relatives. The abrupt shift seems to throw a wrench into your previous statement of closeness since, evidently, the absence of Taehyung’s aunt and uncle casts a dark shadow over the cheerful gathering.

Sensing an awkward lull, Taehyung tries to lighten the mood with a bright smile. “Well, I’m sure we’ll still have a great time. I’m just happy to see everyone here.” He gently redirects the conversation to something more upbeat, attempting to remedy the unusual tension.

Just then, a small figure bursts into the room, capturing everyone’s attention.

A little girl, no more than six or seven years old, runs straight toward Taehyung with arms outstretched. “Taetae!” she shouts, using the affectionate nickname as she latches herself around his legs.

Taehyung's face breaks into possibly the happiest grin you’ve seen in response as he kneels to lift her up effortlessly, holding her close as she giggles. “Hey, sweetheart! I missed you!” His voice is filled with affection, though there’s a hint of shock as well.

Eagerly, the little girl secures her arms around his neck. “I missed you too! Mommy and Daddy said we might not be able to come, but here we are!”

“Well, I'm so glad! Have you been a good girl for your parents?” he asks with a playful tone.

The little girl nods vigorously. “Yes! I’ve been helping Mommy with so much lately.”

“Good job!” Taehyung says, giving her a high five.

You’re unsure exactly how the two relate, but the longer you watch the interaction unfold, the more evident it becomes that Taehyung’s a natural at connecting with children. His playful demeanor and patience make it clear that he has a special way with them. It’s heartwarming to see, quite honestly.

“Taetae, who’s she?” the little girl asks suddenly, her big, curious eyes setting on you.

Taehyung smiles and gestures for you to come closer. “This is __. She’s my friend.” He looks at you and adds, “This is my little cousin Eun-ha. We’re quite close.”

“Hi, Eun-ha,” you greet with a soft smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

She doesn’t return your greeting, but rather leans into Taehyung’s ear and whispers something you can’t quite hear.

Taehyung chuckles softly, though it does little to conceal your curiosity. “No, Eun-ha,” he says, shaking his head. “We don’t kiss like in my movies. But yes, she's very pretty.”

Though you wish otherwise, your surprise is barely hidden as you process the revelation.

“Why not?” Eun-ha asks, puzzled. “You kiss lots of pretty people in the movies.”

Flustered, Taehyung clears his throat. “Who’s letting you watch my shows? You’re a little young for those I think.”

“She likes to watch them when she can’t see you,” a new voice interjects.

Following the voice, you see two adults entering the room– Taehyung’s aunt and uncle. Their expressions are clearly stiff and somewhat distant, a stark contrast to the warmth of the rest of the family.

“Well, I guess it’s okay then,” Taehyung responds, maintaining his usual beaming smile. “Auntie, Uncle, it’s good to see you.”

His aunt and uncle offer polite but somewhat curt greetings.

“Glad to see you’re alright, Taehyung,” his aunt says, her tone lacking warmth.

“Hello,” his uncle adds, his expression neutral. “I see you’ve brought a guest.” He nods toward you.

“Yes, this is __,” Taehyung introduces you, “She’s a friend of mine and a colleague as well.”

The pair glance at you briefly, their eyes betraying a lack of interest.

“Nice to meet you,” his aunt says, though the thickness in her tone suggests otherwise.

“Likewise,” you respond, trying to match their formality with a friendly smile.

“You know, when I heard my nephew was bringing a guest, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect,” she continues, though the implication is unclear.

“I’m sorry?” you ask, trying to grasp her meaning.

“My apologies. I work as an editor for a journalism outlet, so I’ve come across your name before,” she explains. “It’s always interesting to see people in person after reading about them. I can’t say I ever imagined having the opportunity today.”

“Oh,” you say, trying to keep your composure. “I hope the coverage has been accurate.” You know they haven’t been, aside from a couple of progressive news outlets. Based on her rigid stare, you don’t think she belongs to either of them.

“They’re accurate most of the time,” she replies, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Although, there are always…different perspectives on such matters.”

You offer a polite, tight-lipped smile in response. Despite your best efforts to remain composed, however, your hands unconsciously clench into fists at your sides, indicating your bubbling discomfort.

“Well, I’m sure those articles are just one side of the coin,” Taehyung chimes in, attempting to smooth over the conversation. “I’m of the mindset that you really don’t know a person until you spend time with them. And I can assure you, those overpriced tabloids have it all wrong.” He shoots you a reassuring look.

In the midst of it all, Taehyung’s father steps into the room, oblivious to the tension. “Alright everyone, it’s time to eat!” he announces, his voice carrying a cheerful note. “Let’s gather around now.”

Neither you nor Taehyung’s aunt speak another word to each other as you follow his father into the dining room. You take a deep breath along the way, an attempt to steady yourself.

As lunch begins, Taehyung’s father stands at the head of the table, a broad smile on his face as he raises a glass.

“We want to thank everyone for being here today to celebrate Taehyung’s recovery,” he begins, his voice filled with heartfelt sincerity. “We’re grateful for this family and for the love and support that has carried us through. To Taehyung!”

“To Taehyung!” everyone echoes, lifting their glasses in a unified cheer.

From then on, the meal progresses smoothly, with conversation gradually returning to pleasant topics. Dishes are passed around, and laughter helps lighten the mood. Taehyung’s parents share stories of their journey together, their voices rich with wisdom and nostalgia. As you listen, you get a glimpse of the morals that have shaped their family. It’s so different from your own upbringing, and you feel honored to be a part of it today.

Yet it's still difficult to ignore the lingering heaviness in your chest from your earlier interaction with Taehyung’s aunt. Even now, her sour expression is directed your way, though she seems to withhold her remarks, perhaps due to Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s presence.

Don’t take this personally, you repeat in your head. There’s likely some underlying history or traditional views being projected onto you. This isn’t really about you…don't take it personally.

Midway through the meal, Taehyung’s mother intrigues everyone by pulling out a collection of old photographs. She begins sharing the backstories of various childhood photos of Taehyung, the corners of her eyes crinkling with joy and amusement as she recounts each memory. Taehyung, visibly flustered, tries to hide his blush as his family teases him.

“Oh, look at this one!” his mother exclaims, holding up a particularly old photo of a much younger Taehyung with a hilariously exaggerated hairstyle. “He was so determined to be a rock star!”

The room bursts into laughter, and Taehyung grins sheepishly, his cheeks rosy. “Is this really necessary? I mean __’s here…”

“Come on, Tae, it’s cute!” you say with a smile, giving his arm a playful shove. As you do, Taehyung’s aunt’s eyes widen slightly. Her gaze shifts sharply between you two, and a flicker of disapproval crosses her face. You stop your playfulness upon first notice, finding it hard to ignore.

“It’s embarrassing,” Taehyung retorts, unaware of his aunt’s reaction.

“Oh hush,” his mother replies with a warm smile. “Let a mother indulge in the memories of her children. You’re all grown up now, and with your busy schedule, I hardly see you anymore.”

“Alright, fair point,” Taehyung concedes. “Carry on.”

When the meal winds down, Taehyung’s aunt clears her throat and speaks up. “Is everyone ready for dessert? I’ve baked a homemade cake,” she announces, tone carrying a hint of forced cheerfulness. Turning to you, she adds, “Would you mind assisting me in the kitchen, __? I could use an extra hand.”

Taehyung immediately offers to help, but his aunt insists on speaking with you alone, masking it as an opportunity to get to know you better.

Once you’re in the kitchen and away from prying eyes and ears, Taehyung’s aunt’s demeanor shifts abruptly. She returns to her previous blunt and unreserved nature. “I need to be honest with you,” she begins, her voice low and steely. “I don’t think you should be here.”

Her words sting, yet a part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s some merit to them.

“I know this is a family event, and I’m sorry if it seems like I’m intruding. Taehyung invited me.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” she dismisses, venom lacing her tone. “I mean, you shouldn’t be here with Taehyung.”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to—”

“Oh please, don’t pretend I don’t have eyes, Ms. __,” she interjects sharply. The use of your formal name sends a chill down your spine. “You may be friends now, but I can see there’s more going on beneath the surface. Unlike the rest of my family, I won’t just stand by and let it happen. So, if you think you can charm your way into my nephew’s life just like you did with that ex-husband of yours, then you’re mistaken. I won’t allow you to ruin his life.”

Ruin his life? You ruined Jungkook’s life and now you are about to ruin Taehyung’s? Confused and hurt, you finally realize the root of the matter–she's convinced you’re a gold digger.

You’re stunned by the accusation, struggling to find words as she continues. “There’s nothing you can say to change my mind either. Even if the articles aren’t exactly true, you still have a past, and Taehyung deserves better—someone without all these complications. Don’t you agree? Maybe if you hadn’t been married before and were ten years younger, things might be different. But honestly? A woman your age should already have a family of her own.”

Silence falls heavily in the kitchen after her final words, the only sound being your labored breaths. Your throat goes dry and your hands clammy as some of your deepest insecurities take root, striking right at your core.

It’s true—you’re 30 years old, divorced, and without children. It’s a stark contrast to your peers.

You’d always imagined your life turning out differently, but here you are, alone and without any kind of companionship. You weren’t expecting to be reminded of it all today.

“I think you’ve made yourself clear about how you feel,” a voice speaks up, and you think it’s yours, until you realize it’s much too deep.

Taehyung’s aunt looks momentarily stunned to see her nephew standing in the doorway, his expression a mixture of shock and anger. But she quickly regains her composure. “Taehyung, I was just—”

“Please don’t,” he interrupts, voice firm. “If I had known you were going to be this cruel towards someone I deeply care about, then I’m sorry I invited you.”

He steps closer, his gaze unwavering. “You have no right to judge someone you don’t know based on rumors and assumptions.”

His aunt’s face softens, though her disapproval remains. “I’m only looking out for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I don’t need you to protect me from my own choices,” Taehyung replies, his voice calmer. “I’ve made my own decisions, and __ is a part of that. If you can’t respect that, then maybe you should reconsider how you approach these situations.”

Taehyung’s aunt stands silent for a moment, her gaze shifting between Taehyung and you. She seems to weigh his words before finally nodding and turning back towards the dining room, her displeasure still evident.

Taehyung turns to you, his face etched with worry. “Are you alright?”

You hesitate, unable to give a clear response. “I… I think I need some air,” you finally say.

“Maybe it’s time we take that walk down to the beach,” he suggests gently. “What do you think? Of course, if you’d prefer to go solo, that’s completely your call too. I’ll understand either way.”

You nod, appreciating the idea. “I’d like you to come with me.”

“Let me grab Tan and we can head down,” Taehyung says with a reassuring smile.

The sound of the waves grows louder as you approach the ocean, providing a soothing backdrop to your racing thoughts. It's even more beautiful up close, you think, observing how the sun reflects off the water.

As you walk along the shore, Tan runs ahead, chasing the waves and barking playfully. The sight of him brings a small smile to your face, easing some of the heaviness in your chest.

Taehyung walks beside you, his presence peaceful, though neither of you are quick to speak.

Finally, after a few minutes pass, he breaks the silence.

“I’m really sorry about what happened back there," he says quietly. "My aunt's always had more traditional perspectives, but I didn’t know how rigid they’d gotten. Regardless of how she might've made you feel, I want you to know that you’re very important to me and I couldn't care less about what the public says. The rest of my family seems to love you too so far."

You take a deep breath, the salty air filling your lungs. “It’s not your fault, Taehyung. But thank you.” You pause, your face visibly conflicted. “To be honest, I’ve heard variations of it before from other people. I just didn’t expect her to be so… direct.”

He nods, turning to you with sincerity. “I know it was hurtful, and even though I didn’t hear everything she said, you didn’t deserve it. It's not true, either.”

You manage a small, tight-lipped smile, but it hardly matches how you feel inside. “Well,” you begin, continuing your walk, “some of it's true, I think.” Taehyung looks at you with concern, though you struggle to hold his gaze.

“Wanna sit?” he suggests lightly, gesturing to a spot on the beach with a clear view of the waves ahead. "Tan'll be fine to roam around on his own."

You nod slowly in reply, a gentle breeze caressing your face and feathering against your legs as you move.

Once you reach the area, you tuck the skirt of your dress beneath your thighs and take a seat on the soft sand. Taehyung sits down beside you.

“So,” he starts again, his eyes never leaving your face, “what’s true?"

You take a moment, watching the waves crash against the shore before forming a response. “It’s just…” Your voice falters as you search for the right words. “I’m 30 years old. The natural course for someone my age is to have a family, a couple of kids, and of course, be married. Or at the very least, have a reliable romantic partner.”

“Instead,” you take a short breath, “it feels like I’m living in a completely different reality from everyone else. Divorced from a big shot CEO, without children, and painted as some kind of spinster or gold digger for the media to exploit. Being a woman, there's really no in-between which makes it that much harder to overcome."

Upon finishing your thought, an unmistakable nervousness bubbles up within you. Had you just overshared? Were you too honest? Although unsettled, everything in you hopes that you didn't just overstep your boundaries with Taehyung, as the two of you hadn't had this deep of a conversation before. You find yourself holding your breath as he replies.

"To have all that unnecessary pressure placed on you is unfair,” he says quietly. “I can’t imagine how tough it must be to feel disregarded and reduced to so little. I'm so sorry, __. I'm sorry that we gets so fixated on image and what’s deemed proper that we often forget the real meaning behind things. I know it might be hard to believe, but there’s more to your story than what others see or say. More than even you might think, too."

As if inevitable, your vision goes misty and a tear spills down your cheek upon hearing his words, though you're quick to wipe it away. It's not that the words themselves are monumental, but rather, they confirm the closeness of your relationship. Few people have ever understood or cared to understand you, so you had stopped expecting it altogether, especially after your divorce. Yet somehow, Taehyung always surprises you, being one of the few who truly does.

Feeling a bit more comfortable, you admit, "I know it's probably an overstatement, but I can't help but feel like I'm alone in ways that are hard to escape. Some days I just don't know what to do with it all. Does that make sense?"

“Sweetheart,” Taehyung says softly, taking the hand you used to wipe your tears and lacing his fingers with yours. The warmth of his touch sends a comforting spark through you. He’s never called you that before, and it feels unexpectedly intimate—almost domestic, if you didn’t know better.

“It makes complete sense, especially given what you've gone through and still are. You don’t ever have to feel alone anymore though,” he continues. “I’m here for you. You have Jimin and Namjoon too. And the three of us? We’ll always have your back.”

Your eyes soften as you meet his gaze. He’s looking at you with such warmth and innocence, yet he hasn’t fully grasped the weight of your words.

“I appreciate it,” you say gratefully. “It’s not all one-dimensional, though. When I say I feel alone, I mean relationally as well because, given my age and marital status, it's unlikely I'll find any real companionship. I’m just considered ‘used goods' after all.”

“Used goods? Who the hell said you're used?” Taehyung’s voice rises, not in anger but in genuine offense. Amid his reaction, his hand slips from yours.

“Our entire society?” you retort, raising your voice before lowering it again, realizing he means well. You pull your legs up to your chin and hug them. “I’m divorced, Tae. I’m no beauty queen. Just used goods, as I said.”

You both stare out into the distance, falling into a brief silence.

“Well, I for one think you’re very gorgeous,” he says softly, still gazing ahead. “So please, don’t call yourself used. You’re definitely not.”

“Tae—”

“Do you wish you were still married?” he interjects gently, eyes returning to yours, searching for the truth. He wants to add, To Jungkook? but keeps it to himself, not deeming it his business.

You take a moment to process his question before responding.

“Some days I do,” you admit. “Not just with anyone, though. I’ve already learned my lesson the hard way. Jimin tried setting me up with a few of his coworkers a while back, but I declined. They’re so far away that I doubt anything would work out. Plus, not to be harsh but who in their right mind would risk it with me anyway?”

“I mean...I would,” he replies almost immediately, insistence in his voice. There's no trace of bluff at all and for a moment, your heart feels like it's doing about a hundred somersaults in your chest. Taehyung's seriousness makes it seem like he means it in a deeper way, but it can't be—he’s merely speaking figuratively because of your closeness.

“Of course you would,” you reply, grabbing his hand again and smiling gratefully. “Because you love me, right?”

You pose the question playfully, feeling your mood lift slightly, but Taehyung’s expression turns stunned, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I do,” he finally murmurs, deep and meaningful, a soft glimmer in his eyes. “I really do.”

"Hu-" you choke on your words, still trying to process his. You never finish, though, as Taehyung suddenly moves to stand up, a newfound cheekiness taking precedence over his face.

“Come on,” he says, “on a warm day like this, we should find a way to enjoy ourselves. Dance with me.”

“What?” you ask, though to be honest, you're not surprised by his spontaneity. “Dancing is a no, Tae. You know I have zero rhythm.”

He doesn’t reply to your argument but instead draws his phone from his pocket, tapping around until light jazz music starts playing. He turns up the volume as loud as he can before placing it on the ground beside you.

“What are you doing?” you watch as he begins swaying his body from side to side, snapping his fingers when the beat feels right.

“I’m dancing by myself since you refuse to get up.”

You laugh, “I happen to like it this way. You can be my source of entertainment.” You adjust yourself so your legs are stretched out in front of you, feet crossed as you lean back on your arms.

He chuckles and continues dancing in small circles. You feel a little guilty the longer you watch. But then...

“__,” he calls your name, low and raspy. He steps over towards you and leans down until he's face to face with you. You like the way the sun glows down on his face, and the thought crosses your mind—he looks incredibly handsome. “__,” he calls your name again, and you realize you've been staring a little too long.

“Sorry,” you reply. “Sun’s making me dazed.”

He gives his usual boxy smile, and damn, why are you feeling so affected by him today? It’s not usually this much.

“Will you please dance with me? I don’t mind dancing by myself, but I prefer a partner.” He pouts and you know you’re done for.

“I’m not going to be good though,” you reply, reluctantly rising from your comfortable seated position. Taehyung pulls you into his hold the moment you’re on your feet. It's a little rougher than he meant, and your bodies accidentally collide in the process.

“Shit, my bad,” he says, taking a small step back.

“It’s fine," you assure, doing the same but not before catching a whiff of his cologne. You can't quite place the scent, but it’s nice...really, really nice.

As the music continues to play, you both sway gently to the rhythm. Taehyung’s touch is warm and steady as he guides you through each simple step. You feel a strange sense of comfort and safety in his arms, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away.

“I didn’t realize you were such a good dancer,” you start. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me.”

He spins you gently, and you let out a surprised laugh, the sound mingling with the soft notes of the jazz music. “I had to take ballroom dancing lessons for a role I played years ago,” he replies smoothly, “but I enjoyed it, so I kept it up.” When you come back to him, he holds you a little tighter, and the closeness feels more intimate and special than you anticipated.

“You’re doing great, by the way,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "Even with barely any practice."

“All thanks to you,” you reply, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “I guess it’s kinda fun.”

“See? Not so bad,” he says with a triumphant grin.

You glance towards the ocean, feeling a rush of spontaneity yourself. “The water looks so inviting. We should go in.”

He quirks a brow, taking in both of your more formal attire. “Dressed like this?” he asks.

You don’t answer. Instead, you slide out of his hold and run towards the water, laughing and splashing him once he’s close enough behind you.

“Hey! This was expensive!” he shouts, but there's no threat in his voice, only amusement.

“Well, you shouldn’t have worn it around me then!” you tease, splashing him again.

Now nearly drenched, Taehyung huffs and bends down to scoop water into his palm. “You’re gonna get it…” You back away quickly, but he follows after you. “Come here, I have a very special gift for you __,” he says mischievously, water spilling from his hand as he chases you.

You both end up playing in the water for the next ten minutes, splashing and laughing until you find yourself regaining confidence. At some point, Taehyung unexpectedly tackles you from behind, his arms wrapping so tightly around your waist that no amount of movement would free you.

You find yourselves too lost in amusement to notice your closeness until small droplets of water begin falling from above.

"Was that rain?" You stop all movement, but his grip doesn’t loosen. "Tae?" You call his name when it seems he doesn’t register your question, twisting your head over your shoulder to peer at him.

“Oh…um, sorry,” he finally stammers, a faint blush rising to his cheeks as he realizes the tight hold he has on you. His body flushes against your back.

“No, it’s okay…” you struggle to conceal a blush of your own, the warmth of his embrace a little overpowering. "So, I think we should head back. I'm pretty sure it's raining."

He nods and slowly unwraps his arms from around you. "I agree, but where's Tan?" His eyes frantically scan around the beach. "Tan!" he calls, and soon, two fluffy, slightly damp ears pop out from behind a rock.

"Aww," you exclaim, bending down to pick up the little dog when he trots over. "Look at him. We neglected the baby."

Taehyung snorts at your remark. "He'll be okay. It barely started."

You pretend to cover Tan's ears and shoot Taehyung a faux alarmed expression. "He can hear you, you know."

Taehyung chuckles and gently cups Tan’s face while he nestles in your arms, planting a soft kiss on the top of his head. “Sorry, buddy,” he says with a grin. As he looks up, he catches a prolonged gaze in your eyes and raises an eyebrow. “What? You want one too?”

“Oh, uhm, no,” you laugh, a bit nervously, shaking your head. “It’s just nice to see you so endearing.” You think back to how Taehyung had interacted so sweetly with his younger cousin, Eun-ha, earlier. It’s a side of him you're finding increasingly appealing.

Taehyung's gaze softens as he replies, “I like to take care of those I love.”

Love, you repeat quietly to yourself. It sounds so different when he says it.

You smile and, side by side, head back to the house.

The faint drizzle of rain quickly turns into a downpour, with a flash of lightning illuminating the sky and thunder rumbling in the distance. Despite the potential inconvenience, Taehyung’s parents insist that it would be better for both of you to wait until morning to drive back.

"It isn't safe," his mom advises, fluffing a pillow in the guest bedroom. "The two of you can stay here for the night. I’d offer the living room sofa too, but some of your cousins are staying over as well."

"Thanks, Mom," Taehyung replies, and when she leaves the room he casts a brief glance your way. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“What? No, you can sleep in the bed with Tan." You pause, eyes scanning the room for an alternative spot. “This chair looks pretty comfortable. I’ll grab a blanket and make do.”

"Okay no, I’m not letting you sleep on that old, dusty chair and risk waking up with a giant kink in your neck.” Taehyung places his hands on his hips, his tone firm. “Why don’t we just sleep in the bed together? For some inexplicable reason, my parents chose to put a California King in here so there should be plenty of room. I’ll even sleep on top of the covers.”

“No, it's fine. Tan needs his space."

“Sweetheart." There it is again, that same petname from earlier. Why do you not seem to hate it? "Tan is so tiny he’ll literally curl between us," he argues, though it does little to convince you.

“Tae, I told you it’s—”

“Alright, I’ll take the chair then-” Taehyung starts to move toward it, but stubbornly, you block his path. There's no way he's sleeping on a chair when you're the guest here.

“You will do no such thing!" Naturally, you place your hands on your hips. “This is your home—well, your parent's home and I won't be subjecting you to sleep on something that small. Seriously Tae, I'd fit much better on it than you would given our height differences.”

A small, frustrated sigh escapes him as he counters, “I'd really rather you be comfortable, especially in an unfamiliar environment. So can we please stop arguing about this? It’s really unnecessary. Either I take the chair or we both find a way to share the bed. You can’t tell me you and Jimin never shared a bed before, and he’s your friend too!"

“Yes, but that’s different,” you insist. “Jimin and I have been friends for years! There’s a strong trust built between us.”

“What do you mean by that? You don’t trust me?” His face mirrors that of a sad, puppy-dog.

“Tae, it’s not that at all,” you say softly, trying to sound reassuring. “I do trust you. It’s just… I guess I just meant that Jimin and I have a long history together. We’ve grown very comfortable with each other in ways you and I haven’t yet.”

Taehyung’s brows furrow in concern. “What are you really worried about, __?”

You shrug, feeling a bit flustered. “Nothing…”

Your mind immediately drifts back to the beach—how he listened, held your hand gently, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, and what it felt like to be held so close under the rain. Everything felt so genuine, warm, and openly vulnerable.

You share similar feelings with Jimin, but they have limits as you are definitely only friends… best friends, to be precise. With Taehyung, you figured it would be the same; however, after today, you're realizing more and more how unsure you are of where the limits are (or where you want them to be), and it startles you.

But it’s not this alone that fuels your apprehension tonight— there’s something else.

“You know I won’t do anything right?” Taehyung asks, his voice earnest. “I sleep with five pillows!”

You raise an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Five? What the hell, Tae? Are you a princess?”

“Yes,” Taehyung says, more nonchalantly than expected, “but stop deflecting. It sounds weird and a bit kinky, but why won’t you sleep in the bed with me?”

Should you tell him?

Your expression grows serious as you explain, “Because it can be very intimate,” you murmur softly. “Maybe I'm overthinking it all, but the last time I shared a bed with someone it...uhm...it was…”

“...with your ex-husband,” Taehyung finishes for you, his tone gentle with understanding. His eyes soften as he looks at you.

“Yes…” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s silly, but I haven’t done it in a long time. Even Jimin and I haven’t shared a bed in years.”

“I’m sorry…” Taehyung says, his voice filled with genuine regret.

“Tae, you don’t have to be sorry,” you say, shaking your head. “It’s my own issue. I’ll just sleep on the chair, alright? It’s only one night.”

“Not happening, you’ll take the bed with Tan.”

“Seriously,” you start to protest, but he’s already moving toward the foot of the bed with determination in his eyes. He grabs the blanket from the end and rushes over to the chair with haste. You run after him, pulling at his arm, and both of you end up laughing, the tension gradually breaking.

“It's been a very long day and I'm quite tired, __. How about turning off the lights, please?” He spreads out the blanket and settles into the chair with a satisfied sigh. Then, there’s a loud creak followed by a distinct cracking sound.

“Fuck—” Taehyung swears as the chair suddenly collapses under his weight. He rises from his seat, grimacing at the broken chair. “I knew it was old, but damn, I didn’t think it was that old.”

“Shit, please tell me this wasn't a family heirloom or something.”

“Uh… I don’t think so?” Taehyung scratches his head, looking sheepish. “I’ll let my mom know in the morning. It’ll be fine, okay? No worries. But, um, I’ll sleep on the floor instead.” Taehyung then grabs a couple pillows and a blanket and starts forming a makeshift bed on the floor. While you watch him, your heart softens despite your exhaustion.

“Alright, enough,” you sigh, exasperated. “If we keep this up, we’ll just be going in circles all night. Let’s just share the bed, Tae. It’s not worth you being uncomfortable.”

Taehyung looks up, concern written over his face. “Are you sure? I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable either. I’m happy to—”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off, doing your best not to overthink it. “You're the one who'll be driving for five hours tomorrow anyway, so let’s just get some decent rest. It's okay, really.”

After a good long pause, you both end up climbing into the bed, each taking your own side as Tan curls himself at the foot of the bed. Taehyung reaches over to turn off the light, but despite the calmness of the room, you find yourself unable to sleep right away. You’re unaware he feels similarly until he unexpectedly breaks the silence.

“Are you warm enough?” he asks quietly. “We have more blankets if you need them.”

You turn slightly toward him. “I’m okay for now, but thanks for checking.”

He gives a soft, reassuring smile. “Alright. Just let me know if you need anything. Sleep well.”

“Thanks, Tae.” You roll back onto your side and close your eyes. “You too.”

As the night deepens, the storm outside continues its relentless drumming against the windows. At some point, Taehyung jolts awake to a faint but unmistakable sound.

He blinks groggily at first, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the curtains. Then he notices your restless movements and hears you murmuring softly in your sleep, a note of distress in your voice.

"__?" he asks quietly, still half-asleep. "Are you okay?"

When you don’t respond, he shifts closer, concerned by the unease on your face. Seeing your share of the blankets has slipped off, he gently tugs them back over you, making sure they cover you comfortably.

Amid the movement, a muddled groan escapes your lips—something between a whimper and a sigh, "Mmm… no…"

It doesn't take a genius to figure out you must be having a nightmare of some sort. “It’s just a dream,” he whispers soothingly, brushing a stray hair from your face. “You’re safe here with me.”

He gently takes your slightly trembling hand and holds it gently in his. “I’m right here, __,” he sighs softly. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be here.”

Taehyung isn’t sure how much time passes before your restlessness stops, but he stays awake, hand clutching yours until it does. Eventually, assuming you’ve finally entered a more peaceful sleep, he releases your hand and rolls onto his side.

What he doesn't expect is for you to unconsciously follow him over, your body snuggling against his back. The warmth of your body against his is comforting, but he knows he can't let you stay there and risk any awkwardness in the morning. So with the utmost care, he rolls over to face you and gently adjusts your body until you're lying comfortably on your back again.

"I hope you'll be able to sleep better now," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the storm. "Goodnight."

Following the reunion, you and Taehyung part ways with mutual thank-yous and promises to see each other soon.

Time seems to vanish afterward as you find yourself increasingly buried under an endless pile of work projects. Apparently, over the weekend, a notable investor reached out to your company with hopes of setting up a meeting.

Namjoon is nearly tripping over his words when he relays the message to you.

"Can you believe it?" Your secretary stands within a foot from your desk, excitement evident in his voice. "They want to meet with us! This could be huge for our company."

You share his enthusiasm but your need to remain holistic in the matter tempers your ability to feel overly zealous. Meetings with investors always carry significant opportunities; however, there's no guarantee a deal will be struck. Truthfully, it depends on a number of factors, their level of interest outweighing them all.

Plus, every meeting requires extensive preparation—late nights where you tirelessly hunch over your computer, perfecting every detail of the pitch and this one promises to be no different.

"Did they happen to mention a time or date for further discussion?" you ask, matter-of-factly. Namjoon nods, pulling out his phone.

"Yes, they suggested next Wednesday at 10 AM.”

You weigh the proposal in your mind. “That should give us enough time to get everything in order, then,” you conclude. “Please put it in our calendar and let them know we’ll be ready to meet on that day.”

From then on, the remainder of your week unfolds exactly as you anticipate—relentless preparation, long nights, and meticulous planning until the small of your back aches for relief. One might say it's an exaggeration, but the only breaks you can afford are for primal necessities like eating, sleeping, and using the bathroom.

Even your weekend is spent within the walls of your home office, a far cry from previous weekends when you used to visit the book café or meet up with Taehyung.

Speaking of which, you haven’t really gotten to see each other since his family gathering and though it was only a week ago, the lack of his presence leaves you feeling a bit disheartened. He replied to your text yesterday, but even so, it was brief—something about a new project or talk show interview was keeping him busy as well.

By the time Wednesday arrives, your neck is so riddled with the stress of the upcoming investor meeting that you can barely focus on your proposal notes. Everything in you hopes that the investors will be impressed enough to partner with you, but thinking about it does nothing except heighten your nervousness.

In search of some kind of solace, your mind wanders to Taehyung instead. The memory of the small dance you shared with him on the beach is once again vivid, as if it happened just moments ago—the soft sand beneath your feet, the sound of the waves, and the way his gentle hands gripped around your waist.

But why does this memory, out of all the possibilities, feel so soothing?

You've been struggling to come to a plausible conclusion since the day it happened, yet deep down, you know it’s not as trivial as it seems. You miss it, your subconscious hums, you miss him.

Just then, Namjoon pokes his head into your office, signaling that the investors have arrived in the conference room. You send a curt nod in reply and gather your notes, refocusing your mind on the task at hand; everything else will have to wait.

Turns out, you might have been a bit too pessimistic about the investor meeting. They’re surprisingly pleased with your plans and proposals, nodding along to each of your points. However, their request for a day or two to reach a final decision catches you a tad off guard.

Rather than grapple with the uncertainty though, you decide to mentally prepare for whatever comes next... starting by decompressing at the bar downtown, a glass of their strongest alcohol in hand.

At first, finding a seat proves to be a challenge as you navigate through a sea of sweaty bodies. But luck, seemingly on your side, provides you with an empty chair at the far end of the bar. While you sit and order your drink, you can't help but wonder what Taehyung might be doing tonight. Should you text him to see if he’d join you, even if only for fifteen minutes?

Slipping your phone from the side pocket of your bag, you curse silently at your apparent haste. Your subconscious was right—you really have missed him, damn.

All at once, your thoughts are put to an abrupt stop when you take a quick glance around the bar, your gaze unprepared to land on two familiar silhouettes at the opposite end—Namjoon, with Taehyung next to him, drinks in hand. You don’t know how you failed to notice them before. They’re laughing, clearly enjoying each other’s company, and for a moment, your face lifts into a smile.

But that smile quickly fades when you catch sight of two women sauntering over to join them. Your initial joy is swiftly replaced by a sharp sting of jealousy and you chastise yourself for the feeling. Who are you to react this way? Taehyung can do whatever he wants—why should you care who he’s out with?

Forcing yourself to shake off the feeling, you take a sip of your drink, but your gaze keeps drifting back to the group. It’s obvious that the taller of the two women, arguably as stunning as Taehyung, is laser-focused on him, her hand brushing his arm lightly as she laughs at whatever joke he’s just told. Probably a dumb one, you think bitterly; it's obvious she's not just there for the humor and booze. It's strange to witness, as you've only known Taehyung to allow a few, select women to touch him so openly—his mother, his onscreen cast members, and you.

Okay __, stop, you scold yourself. This is a bad idea; you’re getting too involved for your own good. Hastily, you finish your drink and head out of the bar, the cool night air brushing against your skin. If Taehyung goes home with her, it’s none of your business.

You're barely a few feet outside the bar's door when you hear commotion echo from a nearby alley. Alarmed, you whip towards the noise, your eyes widening in disbelief. There, in the dim light, you see your ex-husband doubled over, clutching his stomach, while a shadowy figure stands in front of him, fist clenched.

You’re not sure where the courage comes from, but within seconds, you're springing to action, racing towards the scene with a surge of adrenaline. “Hey!” you shout as loudly as you can. The attacker glances back, frazzled, then bolts into the night, leaving Jungkook hunched against the alley wall.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you ask frantically, rushing to his side and helping him to his feet. He flinches away from your touch initially, his face a mix of panic and agony. “It’s me, Jungkook. It's __. Can you hear me? It’s okay, I’m here,” you reassure him the best you can, hoping to ease him.

Jungkook takes a few shaky breaths, body still weak as he struggles to hold himself up against the wall. His eyes are glazed, and he seems disoriented. “I… I didn’t expect you,” he mutters, his voice strained.

Offering him an arm, you help him steady himself. “Let’s get you out of here, okay?” He nods weakly, and as you guide him towards the parking lot and into the light, you ask, "What happened back there? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"

Jungkook sighs, wincing slightly. “No, it’s... I’m fine. He was just a kid—no more than 21. Angry, probably a little drunk, and accused me of being the reason his father got fired. At first, I was confused, but then I vaguely recognized him as being one of our employee’s sons. Pretty sure it was my dad who fired his—I was probably just an easier target."

You both fall into a contemplative silence as you continue walking. Of course Jungkook's father, the chairman of the company, would be behind this, you think. Previous times spent with him had shown you how ruthless he could be when it came to the "well-being" of his company. Whoever the kid was, he probably had a right to be angry, but physically taking it out on Jungkook wasn’t justifiable by any means.

“You sure you don’t need a doctor?” you ask, glancing at him with concern.

He shakes his head dismissively, "Don't worry about me," he replies. "A couple of punches to the gut won't kill me. I think it's about time I head home though."

You nod in agreement. “Where did you park?”

He points to a spot on the far left side of the parking lot, and you nearly groan at the sight. “Did you have to bring your bike tonight?” you ask, a hint of exasperation in your voice.

Jungkook gives a weak smile, understanding the inconvenience of the situation. “Thought I’d ride it in case I needed to get somewhere fast,” he replies, his voice strained but with a touch of humor.

"Come on," you say, walking him toward your car instead. "We might not be married anymore, but there’s no way in hell I'm letting you ride your bike home in this condition. You can pick it up tomorrow."

Jungkook chuckles weakly. “Damn, and to think we were about to ride it together for old times’ sake. You used to be pretty good with my motorcycle back when you were my girlfriend, __." You roll your eyes, patience thinning. If this is another one of his sexual advances, you’re long over it.

"Yeah, well, that was before Taehyung’s accident scared me half to death," you retort. "And for the record, I was never your girlfriend. We went from work partners straight to I do." You open the passenger door and help him into the seat, giving him a gentle shove. "Now sit tight and no more motorcycle talk."

Jungkook leans back and raises an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “Well, what are we gonna talk about then? It’s a twenty-minute drive to my place.”

You slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine, giving him the go-ahead to enter his address into your car’s GPS. “Are you really whining already?”

As Jungkook taps away on the GPS, you’re suddenly reminded of a series of past car trips you shared with him. It’s almost like déjà vu.

“Seriously, __,” he starts, allowing his playful demeanor to fade. “Thank you for doing this for me. I know we… well, we aren’t exactly on the best terms.”

From the corner of your eye, you observe the way he aimlessly stares out the window, unsure whether to meet your gaze.

"We may not be in the best place, but that doesn’t mean I’d just leave you there," you sigh, gripping the steering wheel tighter. A long pause follows afterward until the question that's been gnawing at you finally slips from your lips. "How's everything with the company?"

Seemingly unfazed, as if he’d been anticipating the question, Jungkook replies, “I’m guessing you’ve heard the rumors.”

“Hard not to,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road.

He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Well, it's um... it's a sabbatical. I know it's probably a shock, right? My father isn’t too thrilled about it, so he’s delayed the official announcement until we reach a final consensus. But things have been... complicated. Our newest product launched recently, and it’s doing well, but now I think I need some time for myself. To take a step back.”

Well, shit.

Even with all the rumors, you never would have guessed in a million years that the truth of the matter was an impending sabbatical. Jungkook has always been the type to work himself until his hands bleed, so this is the last reason you expected to hear.

“I’m glad to hear you’re finally letting yourself have a break, but honestly, it doesn’t sound like you at all. Feel free not to share, but what do you mean by ‘complicated’?” The way he frames it sounds almost ominous.

“You really want to know?” He finally glances at you for the first time since getting into the car, his eyes carrying a hint of vulnerability.

“Only if you want to share,” you reply cautiously.

He looks down at his hands, gathering his thoughts. “So, remember when we last saw each other a few months back? Well, I’ve been reflecting a lot on our relationship since then. I know I wasn’t fair to you, __, and I really wish I could take it all back. You never deserved any of it. I was incredibly selfish and I’m truly sorry.”

You remain silent, thrown off by how quickly everything circles back to your fragile past together. Still, you allow him to speak.

"Before we parted ways, you suggested I see a professional, and… I thought I'd finally take your advice for once. It’s strange because I’d never gone before, but…”

He pauses, searching for the right words. “I’m starting to understand a lot about myself—why I react the way I do and how I handle things. It’s been tough, but I’m trying. I guess I’m taking this sabbatical because I need to figure myself out, away from work, so I can be better and stop hurting people around me."

For the first time in a long time, as you listen to your ex-husband, you realize he's beginning to sound genuinely mature. If it's true that he's been seeing a therapist and taking a sabbatical to prioritize his well-being, then you're extremely proud of him.

Yet, a small part of you remains stubborn, wishing he had made these changes earlier—imagine where you might be now if he had.

“Thank you for being open enough to share this with me," you respond slowly, careful not to misspeak. "Though I’m still a little surprised, I have to say I’m really proud of you for seeking help. I’ve been seeing someone as well, and it took me some time to settle in too, but I suppose that’s part of the healing process—being uncomfortable to an extent. We’ve had our share of challenges with one another, but despite everything, I’ll always wish the best for you, Jungkook—including your health and mental well-being.”

As you pull into the driveway of his house, parking the car near the front door, Jungkook takes a deep breath and turns to you, visibly affected. "It means a lot that you'd say that, __," he starts hesitantly, hands fidgeting in his lap. "I know I've made a lot of mistakes, and I understand if you can't forgive me completely. But I want you to know that I am sorry. I wasn’t fair to you and I'm not proud of my behavior at all."

You nod in response, a small, tight-lipped smile forming. His remorse for the past is finally sincere, yet even now, as he looks at you with those hopeful eyes—the same ones you carried for months on end—you know he's searching for more than just your forgiveness.

But this time, you don’t think you can offer him more than that.

Because while you grew fond of him during your marriage, you've come to realize how unearned and misplaced that affection was. He broke your heart not once, but twice. And although you can never hate him, deep down, you can't ignore the lingering sting you feel when you're around him.

It's both sobering and eye-opening.

So, rather than reversing into old emotions, you simply say, "I believe you, Jungkook, and I think with time I'll be able to forgive you. If there’s ever a time when you’re in dire need of help, like tonight, I’ll do my best to be there. I’m afraid that’s as far as we can go, though."

It’s written all over his face that it’s not what he was hoping to hear, but respectfully, he doesn’t press further.

"I understand," he says, fingers reaching to for the passenger door handle. "Thank you again for being there for me tonight, and for driving me home. Please feel free to reach out if you ever need me as well. I hope for the best for you too, however and with whoever you choose."

The two of you exchange a brief look of gratitude before he finally pulls the door open and steps out of the car, making his way to his front door.

"Have a good night, and rest up," you call out to him. He smiles, gives a wave, and heads inside.

As you slowly back out of the driveway, you sigh, leaving only one person ruminating in your mind: Taehyung.

Then, inevitably, images of the stunning woman at the bar with him intrude your thoughts, stirring a deep, unsettling emotion within you.

Does it really matter that much who he's out with?

Are you really that jealous about it?

Mentally, you go back and forth as if plucking petals from a large sunflower… Yes. No. Yes. No. Until—Silence.

You can't seem to give a straight answer. It's like the closer you and Taehyung grow, the more undefinable and knotted your feelings become. Yet, the further apart you are, the more unnatural it feels...

Well, your indecisiveness doesn’t get any better by Friday because, finally, after what feels like an eternity, you and Taehyung have plans.

You’re heading out for dinner at a restaurant of his choosing tonight, as he insisted you go somewhere new. Where could it be? You have no clue, and while surprises aren’t usually your thing, his enthusiasm when you confirmed plans earlier has left you intrigued. There’s also this faint, inexplicably giddy feeling in your stomach that won’t go away, coinciding with a slight nervousness.

With such a seemingly important occasion, you find yourself in front of your bedroom mirror, twisting from side to side in what’s probably the fifth outfit you’ve tried on. But nothing seems to fit quite right. You’re feeling especially frustrated to be frank, as something that usually takes you twenty minutes is turning into a whole hour.

You end up tossing one final dress over your head—a bit more elegant for the occasion, but it’s one of the few items you own that accentuates your body down to the last detail. The dress hugs around your waist and falls just above your knees, its rich color perfectly complementing your skin tone. But isn’t it a little revealing? The neckline dips down further than you remember.

Crap—the alarm on your phone suddenly chimes, reminding you that Taehyung's arriving in ten minutes. You're running out of time.

"You’re being ridiculous. It’ll be fine,” you reassure yourself, smoothing down the skirt of the dress. “You're just friends. He won’t care.”

“Friends” stings more than you anticipated, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a deflated feeling in your chest.

Nevertheless, you give yourself one last look in the mirror, apply a quick swipe of lipstick, and head downstairs. Just as you finish slipping on your shoes and grabbing your purse from the coat rack, the doorbell rings, causing your heart to leap from your chest.

Deciding to rip it off like a band-aid, you toss open the door, and there he is—standing on your doorstep with his signature boxy grin and gently tousled raven hair. Taehyung's dressed in a tailored blazer and matching slacks over a crisp white t-shirt, and you find yourself at a complete loss for words as if you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be around him.

Maybe it’s something in the air, but he appears equally stunned, looking you up and down with wide eyes. His gaze soon softens into admiration as he takes in your entire appearance. “Wow,” he chokes, clearly impressed. “You look amazing.”

You feel a rush of warmth at his compliment and muster all your strength to keep from looking away flustered. “Thank you,” your voice wavers slightly. “You look pretty great yourself.”

Tongue in cheek, he replies with a playful smirk, “I was hoping you’d say that,” which prompts you to lightly punch him in the arm.

“Don't be arrogant.”

He chuckles, rubbing his arm with a grin. “Shall we head out?”

You nod and step outside, locking the door behind you.

The drive to the restaurant is a brief one, and you're immediately struck by the charm of its exterior when you arrive—stone walls, covered with vines of ivy and warm glowing lanterns. Inside is even more beautiful, with wooden shelves lined with old books and bottles of fine wine wrapping around the room. You're starting to understand why Taehyung was so insistent on bringing you here; the place perfectly reflects his taste and, unexpectedly, yours as well.

One of the hosts leads you to a deep mahogany table after confirming your reservation. The closer you get to it, the more you notice the crisp white linens and small tealight candles that sit on top, setting a romantic scene. If you had to describe the feeling, it would be as though you’ve been transported straight to a quaint corner of France.

"So, what do you think?” Seated across from you, Taehyung looks at you with bated breath. His fingers fidget with the edge of the table, nervously anticipating your verdict.

“Honestly? It’s so charming,” you reply, glancing around in awe. “I didn’t even realize we had a place like this around.”

At this, his demeanor relaxes, and a pleased smile spreads across his face. “It’s a bit hidden, but once I found it, it quickly became one of my favorite spots.” He pauses, then adds, “This is actually the same restaurant I wanted to take you to months ago, before my accident.”

“What? You’re serious?” you blink in shock as the realization slowly sinks in. You take another look around the restaurant—the rows of books, the bottles of wine, the elegant dining atmosphere—and suddenly, it all makes sense. How did you miss it before? “I’m sorry we didn’t come sooner,” you say softly, regretful of having turned down his offer before.

“It’s okay,” Taehyung's quick to reassure you, reaching out to lightly touch your hand. “What matters is that we’re here now. And honestly, I’m just happy to finally share it with you.” He gives you a warm smile, and immediately, you feel a small lump form in the back of your throat.

“Thank you for bringing us here tonight,” you say, “It’s wonderful, and I’m really glad we could make it up.”

“Of course,” he replies, “I thought it was a place we’d both enjoy.”

Everything about his responses seems to carry a heightened level of endearment and attentiveness, as if there’s more hidden beneath them.

Perhaps selfishly, you also sense there’s something uniquely special about this night—something you believe only exists between the two of you. So, when Taehyung retracts his hand, you feel a fleeting instinct to reach out and grasp it again, but you stop yourself short.

What are you thinking? This isn’t a date.

Needing a distraction, you grab the menu and start scanning the options.

Taehyung sees the way your gaze drifts and tilts his head, a concerned expression on his face. “Everything alright?” he asks gently.

You nod, forcing a smile. “Yeah,” you reply, trying to sound casual. “I'm just getting pretty hungry with all the food I smell.”

He chuckles, "Same here," then picks up a menu of his own.

The two of you sit in silence for the next few minutes, fixated on the food and wine list. You find yourself stealing glances at him from time to time, and unbeknownst to you, he does the same.

After the waiter takes your orders, Taehyung leans forward, resting his chin on his palm. “How’s everything at work been? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Your face lights up at this. “Highs and lows," you reply, voice brightening, "but we got some exciting news today. I met with a potential investor earlier this week, and they’ve agreed to partner with the company. It’s a big win for us!”

Sharing your enthusiasm, Taehyung raises his wine glass, implicating you to follow suit. “This calls for a toast,” he says. “I know it must have meant long nights for you, but I’m so glad they recognized the value of you and your work. Seriously, __, you should be incredibly proud of this!"

You clink your glass with his, a light chuckle escaping you. There's something uniquely satisfying about sharing even the smallest things with him.

The conversation flows more comfortably from there, with Taehyung eagerly asking about the details of your new partnership. You reciprocate by asking about his current work projects, and soon, you both get lost in discussion, naturally causing your conversation to grow increasingly spontaneous. By the time your food arrives, the two of you must have easily covered fifty topics.

With the evening gradually becoming one of the most enjoyable you’ve had, the initial butterflies you felt at the start almost fade away... almost. That is, until you near the end of the meal and Taehyung looks at you with a seriousness in his eyes.

“I’m really glad we could do this tonight," he says, "We’ve both been so caught up with work lately that we haven’t had much time to spend together… I’ve missed it."

"Missed..." The simple six-letter word echoes in the back of your mind in a hushed murmur. It feels nice knowing you aren’t the only one affected by the recent distance.

“Me too,” you reply, more breathy than intended. Before you can fully process your words, you find yourself adding, “I’ve missed you a lot myself.”

A flush of embarrassment twists in your stomach the moment the words leave your mouth. You shouldn’t have said it like that—it almost sounded like… pining? God, you can’t even blame it on the alcohol at this point; you barely had one full glass of wine. Contrary to what you'd expect, Taehyung looks at you with a hint of shyness.

“You know,” he begins, briefly eyeing your dress, “you really do look great tonight. I’ve been a bit worried these past couple of weeks, seeing how much you work and how little sleep you get. But now… I'm relieved to see you looking so well.”

You blush. If only he saw you before tonight—greasy hair, bloodshot eyes, and oversized sweats on, you think. Evidently, tonight was an exception.

"I guess I've been worried about you too if I’m being honest,” you admit, shifting slightly in your seat. "The last time we saw each other was at your family reunion. It feels like it was ages ago for some odd reason."

“I know what you mean,” he says softly, gaze lingering on yours a moment longer than usual. “It’s strange going so long without seeing each other. It feels…unnatural.”

All at once, you pause, unsure if you heard right. Did Taehyung really say "unnatural"? It’s exactly how you’ve felt about the distance this entire time, but you hadn’t expected him to feel the same. Your mind struggles to process the sheer coincidence and its possible implications—was there something more to your relationship than you had realized?

While you try to make sense of it all, Taehyung’s raspy voice pulls you back to the present. “Well, uh, we should probably head out,” he suggests lightly, breaking the silence. You nod in agreement, though it does little to deter you from your thoughts.

You find yourself fidgeting with the hem of your dress the entire drive back, occasionally glancing at Taehyung in silence. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, eyes focused on the road, yet you could’ve sworn his mouth parted at one point as if he was about to say something. But then, he held back. You wonder what he might’ve wanted to say, but you’re no better—hesitant to breathe a word yourself.

Why are neither of you speaking all of a sudden? It feels tense and unfamiliar.

In what feels like a blink of an eye, you're standing at your front door again, Taehyung close beside you. The space between you feels smaller this time, with unspoken words still lingering, but it’s clear that despite having your keys in hand, neither of you are ready to part ways just yet.

“__?” He speaks first, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes?” You respond, turning to face him fully.

Taehyung takes a deep breath when you do, his usual warmth replaced by a heavy, unreadable expression. “There- there's something that’s been on my mind,” he begins, voice trembling slightly. “I've been going back and forth tonight on whether or not to tell you."

“Okay, what is it?” you ask, pulse quickening.

“It’s about us..." He hesitates, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly before continuing. "Earlier tonight, when I said I've missed being able to see you, I wasn’t lying. If anything, it was likely an understatement because, no matter how busy I was, I kept thinking about you—our time at my parents' place, and how you always came to visit me when I was in the hospital."

He pauses, his fist clenching nervously.

"I’ve realized since then that maybe the reason why is because somehow…you've always been more than a friend to me,” he confesses softly.

Searching your face for a reaction, Taehyung mistakes your blank expression for discomfort. Little does he know, however, that your stillness is merely due to shock, as every nerve in your body threatens to awaken. It feels surreal, you think. Sure, you had a small inkling that tonight felt different and Taehyung was sweeter than usual, but eighty percent of you chalked it up as nothing more than overthinking or projection.

Now, you realize how short-sighted you’ve been, convincing yourself that you could only ever be friends and denying the rest when it's been quite the opposite.

“I’m sorry," he adds sheepishly. "It must be a lot to take in. I don’t want to lose you or our friendship, but with my feelings growing, I think I’ll always want more. I thought it would be better for you to know.”

You see the sincerity in his eyes as he speaks, and though he patiently waits for your response, you’re unsure where to start. It’s not that you question Taehyung’s genuineness or intentions, or that you don’t reciprocate his feelings—you haven’t shared such a deep connection with someone in a long time, if ever.

Rather, it’s the years of a mostly apathetic marriage that leave you feeling wary.

What would a relationship with Taehyung be like?

Would you truly love each other?

For how long?

What startles you most is the possibility that if you and Taehyung really do this and it doesn’t work out, you’ll be left even more devastated than before.

When you finally speak, your voice wavers slightly. “To tell you the truth, a big part of me is relieved that you told me all of this,” you admit slowly, your hands clammy. “I thought I sensed a shift between us at your parents' and again this evening. But I also thought I was reading too much into things, convinced it was just us getting closer as friends do."

"I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was wrong because I've been wanting more with you too," you continue. "It's like the further away we are, the worse I seem to feel, and I can't help but wonder what it would look like if we were more than friends. The thought scares me as much as it excites me, though…for reasons I'm sure you already know."

You're uneasy about how he'll react until, all at once, his eyes fill with warmth and his hands gently reach for yours, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the backs.

“Do you remember when we were at the beach and you asked who’d risk it for you?” Taehyung asks. You nod, recalling the exact moment. “You also asked if I loved you, and I agreed to both that day. I didn’t realize how much those words would come full circle, but I meant it then, and I mean it now. I will love you, __, in the way you've always meant to be. I'm pretty sure I'm at least halfway in love with you already, and not just because we're friends."

Wordless, you stand facing each other, your hands still held in his, eyes steady in the brisk night air. His gaze then drifts from your eyes to your lips and back again. The movement is subtle, but in that brief moment, you let your eyes fall to his lips as well.

Taehyung’s waiting for your answer, but you can’t stop thinking of what would happen if you just…

Adrenaline takes over from there, and before you fully process it, you’re leaning in to close the distance between you, pressing your lips to his. The sudden touch catches Taehyung off guard, but he quickly responds with gentle, tender kisses. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he deepens the embrace, one hand finding its way to your face while the other rests on your back, pulling you closer.

Sooner than you realize, he begins deepening the kiss as well, eliciting small, breathy moans. At this point, you can feel the tent forming in his trousers, but he makes no move to grind into you yet. Rather, the hands that grip around you tighten, not enough to hurt, but enough that your body pushes further against his firmer chest. You suspect your back will meet the hard surface of your front door within the next three seconds, allowing your entire neighborhood a show, but before then, you're interrupted by a subtle stirring in the pit of your stomach.

"Wait, I'm sorry-" you suddenly break the kiss, a rush of nerves returning. It’s been a long time since you’ve shared such meaningful kisses with someone, and the intensity of it has you feeling overwhelmed. "I'm so sorry," you repeat.

When Taehyung sees you aren’t backing away but rather standing completely still, he settles his hands around your waist, gently drawing you further into a soft embrace. "You don't need to apologize," he assures. "I'm the one who took it further than I should've when I want this to be comfortable for both of us.”

You take a small breath, "You didn't do anything wrong, Tae, I'm just a little nervous due the newness of everything. I think I’d be best if we wait before going any further tonight….but I’m also not ready for you to leave yet. Is there any way you could maybe come in for a bit? To lounge?”

Taehyung nods, “I completely understand wanting to wait. The last thing I want to do is rush anything.” Concerned about possibly pressuring you, he adds, "Are you sure about me coming in though? It's getting late and I don't want to keep you up."

"Please," you murmur, "just for a little while, if you can.”

“Okay," he agrees, thumbs brushing lightly against your sides, "I can stay."

a/n: ajdfhg, TYSM for reading!! Love you all 🥰

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