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#thank you for being excited for the next chapter!!!! :D
merakiui · 6 months
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Mera!!! I’m so excited for the upcoming DRU chapter!!! I’m obsessed with Jade (specifically when he’s a terrible, unredeemable, and murderous)!!
I’ve been putting together a playlist for DRU Jade and I’d love to know if you have any songs that you associate with him!
So far I have:
Jobless Monday- Mitski
Shame- Mitski
Step on Me- The Cardigans
Eric- Mitski
And a few others! Mitski just captures his intense creepy vibe and I love it!!! But please let me know your recommendations!!!
👀 DRU Jade playlist!!!!! Omg those songs are all so perfect! They give off so much DRU Jade vibes, especially "Step on Me"!!! Omg but Mitski definitely has the creepy vibes as well! I would love to see your full playlist or know the songs you've included once you finish making it! >w<
As for songs that I associate him with, here are a few from my DRU playlist:
✧ KILLEDEM - Sumia
✧ Cutting - Erenzy
✧ Full Course for Candy Addicts - Machigerita
✧ Love Taste - Moe Shop
✧ Everything Black - Unlike Pluto
✧ The Dismemberment Song - Blue Kid
✧ New Darling - Maretu
✧ Mind Games - Sickick
✧ Halloweenie IV: Innards - Ashnikko
✧ Ethical Coffin - ive
✧ Immoral Taste of the Bloody Travel - kagomeP
✧ Wrong - MAX
✧ Cannibalove - Reoni
✧ Cannibal - Kesha
✧ Sea Castle - Purity Ring
✧ The Red Means I Love You - Madds Buckley
✧ we watch gore together - horrormovies
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The Consequence of Imagination's Fear update: new chapter tonight!! It is long and it is Silly, so please Stay Tuned @:)
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twizzie-lairs · 7 months
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 11)
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Have a nice big chapter/part for the weekend! :D
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |
Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
Part 11:
Did.. did Charlie just say... Alastor?
You felt someone poke your face, multiple times, all at once, "Hey, Hey, miss bandage face, you good?"
You blink rapidly, being pulled out of your stupor and laugh awkwardly, "Ah haha, uh yeah. Yup, I'm good... Haha, thanks Angel.."
Angel just squints at you, not convinced of your act at all but just sighs and says, "Alright, whatever you say, weirdo.." and then returns back to chatting with Husk.
Vaggie, who was sitting next to you struck up a conversation, "Are you really sure you're okay to be up and around already? You look like you saw a ghost or something."
You briefly glanced at the radio that was sitting on the mantle on the wall before returning your attention to Vaggie, "Yeah, being up was much better than sitting doing nothing, I thought I was going to waste away if I didn't do something."
Vaggie sighs and nods her head, "I know the feeling."
"And.. I swear I thought I heard Charlie mention the name Al-"
"Alastor! You're back! We have a new guest staying at the hotel! Come say hi!" Charlie shot out of her seat as soon as she saw Alastor's shadows start to manifest, signaling his return.
You felt your blood run cold as your suspicions were confirmed. Yes, she just said Alastor. How common could that name be down here? This is just a coincidence, surely- Of all names!
"My, my dear Charlie, you seem quite excited! I haven't seen you bouncing off the walls like this in ages!" Alastor chuckles as he allows Charlie to practically drag him over by the wrist to the group.
He sounds like a radio host...
Your breath starts to quicken as Charlie guides him over to you, his aura feels so oppressive, unlike any Overlord you had ever met before... But what made your hair really stand on the back of your neck was the static noise that filled the air as he got closer. You felt your eyes shake and your gut sink in your stomach.
What was this feeling?
You gulp and look up, eyes wide, looking like a deer in headlights as you make eye contact with this "Alastor".
"Go on! Introduce yourself!" You felt Charlie nudge you excitedly, in an attempt to nudge you out of your frozen state.
On his face, a large, creepy grin/smile- (if you could even call it that) grew even larger on his face - a feat you didn't even know was possible. You felt like you should be scared but then... It dawned on you.
That feeling in your gut dissipated instantly and it felt like a weight got suddenly lifted off your chest.
This was Alastor. This was your Alastor.
Tears start rolling down your face uncontrollably as your body is racked with sobs.
"Heyyy! Hey! It's okay, (y/n)! I know Al can be a wee bit intimidating sometimes but I promise he's not a bad guy! Well... mostly.. haha..." Charlie trails off with a nervous chuckle as she scrambles around the lobby to find you some tissues to dry your tears.
Upon hearing your name said out loud, a loud record scratch filled the air.
"Haha... ha...Charlie, dearest! My, you'd think the years are catching up to me! Was that some sort of joke? Why, I didn't know you wanted to become a comedian! Did you say.. (y/n)? That must be a mistake. I've only ever known one person by that name and they surely couldn't have ended up in Hell of all places!" Alastor chuckles, the laugh track coming from his staff warping as he hovers over Charlie with an intimidating aura- thinking she was playing some sort of sick joke on him.
Charlie whips around to see Alastor up in her face and then she scrambles back, "Woah! What? Alastor! Gods, no, why would I joke about our new guest? That would go against everything i'm trying to do here!"
Alastor's gaze darts over to you, "You see, I think this '(y/n)' and I need to have a chat..." His eyes narrow as he makes quotation marks with his fingers as he says your name.
He walks towards you and grabs your wrist with force, finger like claws starting to dig into your arm- despite protest from Charlie and Vaggie to let you go- to stop harassing their new guest because you were still quite injured and fragile. Even Angel and Husk got up from their seats at the bar after hearing the commotion in the lounge and started yelling at him to stop hurting you because it was very apparent that you were in pain with how rough he was handling you.
Then, with a snap, he teleports you and himself up to his radio tower- away from all the commotion.
Alastor slams the door shut with a fury that you've never seen before, and locks it to make sure you won't even try to make a feeble attempt at an escape.
He was powerful. Alastor knew he didn't really need to lock the door because with his power, he could vaporize you before you even thought of making a dash for the door. He did it as an intimidation tactic because he knew the fear it instilled in his prey.
Now, walking towards you, he pointed his staff at your chest, and leaned in close to your face. Strange static and symbols fill the air as he and his antlers grow in size, towering over you.
"Now... who are you really? You get one chance to make a feeble excuse before I kill you and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear, for making a mockery of my dear (y/n) by taking the name of my beloved and masquerading around Hell- thinking you can show up here like this to try and mess with ME- tHe RaDiO DEMON."
You see dark shadows and tentacle-like masses appear, and you stumble backward until your back hits a wall, never breaking eye contact with him- your lip quivering in fear.
"I.. But- It... is me...hun... I missed you so much..." You whisper with a somber smile that's quickly warped into an ugly crying face. The unrelenting tears keep rolling down your face, and your left hand reaches up towards his even more demonically altered form that towers over you in a desperate attempt to get him to recognize you.
Before you can touch his face, one of his hands snatches your wrist and pulls it closer to himself to examine the sparkle that caught his eye as you started to reach out to him, roughly jostling you and lifting you up in the air by your wrist as a result.
You wince briefly at the pain in your wrist and shoulder joints as he examines your hand when you remember you were wearing your ring. You never took it off all these years.
You could hear his breath hitch just ever so slightly over the static as he gently put you down and let your feet touch the floor again.
Alastor realized that the ring on your left ring finger was the exact one he had gotten for you- the one he put on your ring finger right before he buried you right the night you were brutally assaulted and murdered back when he was alive.
He slowly morphed back into his "normal" form. (Normal for Hell, that is, this was an entirely new look for him from what you remembered when he was alive).
The shock dawning on him that it really was you was apparent as he took a few steps back, still holding your hand. He looked at you in disbelief, the look of pure shock was just like how you had looked at him initially in the lobby.
Then suddenly, he pulled you into a warm embrace, "My dearest... I am so sorry for hurting you. My darling... whatever are you doing here? Someone like you doesn't belong here!"
Now, holding your face in both of his hands, he wiped your tears with the most gentle expression on his face, a stark contrast from the nightmarish demonic one just a moment ago. and you could almost swear you could see the slightest traces of a misty look in his eyes as he held you.
His claw-like fingers slightly dug into your face, but not enough to hurt, as he examined your new appearance, his gaze turning from soft into a hardened expression once again. Almost snarling, he began to ask you again, "Tell me, darling, tell me the name of the gods forsaken angel bastard that cast you down from Heaven. I will find a way to make them pay. I'll make them ALL pay for this... NO ONE will ever harm you again..." The strange symbols and glitchy auras were threatening to come out again.
You sniffled, still trying to calm down your tears, which immediately made him halt in his tracks and turn his attention back to you at this moment.
You looked at the ground, and you knew you couldn't avoid this conversation forever, "Hun... I... Before we met... there was something I never told you-" Before you could finish, you felt your legs start to wobble underneath you- the adrenaline was starting to fade and you were starting to feel some of the pain from your previous injuries come back to you.
"Please, my love, take a seat first." He guided you to a set of a table and two chairs. Ever the gentleman, he pulled your chair out for you and helped made sure you were alright before he sat down across the table from you.
You put your hands on the table, a signal he immediately picked up on as a sign to envelop your hands in his. You looked at him in the eyes with a look of shame that scrunched up your face as you prepared to tell him the truth, "Alastor, hun... I never went to Heaven..."
You swore you heard another record scratch before a quiet hum of static filled the air again. Alastor chuckled, "Oh my dear, never lost your sense of humor, I see!"
A look of even deeper shame washes over your face as you break eye contact with him and stare at his hands that held your's on the table, "It's true. Alastor..." You sigh deeply, feeling an aching pain in your chest, not only from your injuries but also from the mental anguish you were dealing with as you shakily begin to explain everything about your past. Your shitty family and messed-up inlaws. Your narcissistic, unloving, and abusive ex-husband that you killed.
You painstakingly revealed every single minute detail. You told him everything.
-> Part 12
Tag List:
@mysticwitchcraftco @lil-bexie @lonely-burger @cherry-cola-100 @angelxx7 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @avitute @justhellacesome @mcrtrashfan @spookysisters
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kookslastbutton · 4 months
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Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter two
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✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?
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pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader
genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love
word count: 6.1k+
warnings: This chapter in particular is written from Yoongi's perspective, oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of body shaming by Hybe executive, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, light fighting between members (literally crack), Namjoon has a little crush, Oc being a total boss at work bc she is amazing at her job, and cute & meaningful Yoon and OC interactions that make them finally start bonding (a little flirty too, hehe) 😉
now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets
a/n: CHAPTR TWO IS HERE! GOD...the slow burn exists outside the series too with me not updating for two months. I'm sorry guys but TYSM for your patience! I'm VERY excited to release this chapter bc I think Yoon & Oc are super cute, hehe. Okay anyway, this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!
Series Masterlist | next chapter >>
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Yoongi stands with his hands placed loosely on his hip, chest heaving as he attempts to catch his breath. The seven of them had been practicing choreography for their new RUN BTS song nonstop when Jimin called for a much-needed, fifteen-minute break. There’s a part of him that’s thanking the younger for it and another that’s wishing he hadn’t, as every moment left alone with his thoughts is spent decoding his last encounter with you at the cafeteria.
Why had you made such a beeline for the exit the moment he was waved over by his member?
You also completely ignored his attempts to greet you on your way out. He only stopped by the cafeteria to slip an orange in his pocket before returning to his studio. He didn’t mean to intrude or incite that you had to leave with his sudden presence.
Taehyung assured him that you merely left to tend to work matters, which he’d typically sum as hyper-fixation with one’s work as he’s prone to do the same, but this felt different at its core. Your behavior seemed more intentional than that. The last thing he wants to do is misread the whole situation, but he must’ve done or said something to cause your uneasiness.
“Hyung, how did the album meeting go this morning?” A clear voice comes from Yoongi's left as his fellow band member, Namjoon, strides next to him, water bottle clenched in his fist. Like himself, large droplets of sweat dots around the man’s brow. The minor interruption shakes Yoongi out of his slightly dazed state.
“Went well.” He takes a big swish of his own water before screwing the cap back on. “We reviewed everything in three hours and the album looks better than I anticipated. There are a couple of promotional strategies that still need finalizing, but I’m pretty confident about it overall.”
“That’s great, man. __-nim’s been doing good work with TXT for the last few years, so she’s definitely suited for the job. I thought about requesting her help to promote Indigo but the timing of it all didn’t work.” Namjoon’s voice drops an octave at the last part, as if remorseful for more than a missed professional opportunity.
“Ah, maybe your next album hyung,” Jimin suddenly chimes in, slapping the taller man on the shoulder from the side. “I have a feeling you and __-nim would work well together. Think about it, you’re both natural born leaders and you’re smart too. I bet __ -nim has as high of an IQ as you.”
Namjoon’s cheeks flush with the faintest tint of rose as Jimin flashes a knowingly cheeky grin. Yoongi, of course, witnesses the entire exchange, the slightest part of him feeling uprooted by the thought of his band member and new marketing manager suddenly hitting it off. He decides not to comment on the matter, choosing to remain in ignorance instead. This is all speculation, right?
Now that they’re all on the subject of his album though, it gets him thinking that maybe he’s been too narrow viewed regarding the reason for your off putting behavior at lunch.
D-Day’s release has become a consuming priority lately, with everyone involved worked to the bone. Aside from himself, you’ve been bearing the brunt of it. He’s appreciative of course, considering the album holds a deep sense of meaning to him, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it to be perfect. A little pushback during the first proposal is natural, yet he did get more resistant toward ideas during this morning’s meeting than anticipated. Perhaps some of his nitpicking was unnecessary, adding to your already heavy load.
Yoongi’s head feels worse the longer he entertains the possibility. He doesn’t want to make the first time working together a complete whirlwind, especially this early. A strong, healthy partnership starts with trust, safety, and mutual respect. The same philosophy can be applied to relationships of varying natures. That reminds him—since when did Taehyung and you become so close? He’s been ruminating over it all afternoon, like a jigsaw puzzle he can’t solve.
It’s odd how little he knows.
“I heard someone mention __-nim over here. I want in.” A small grumble leaves Yoongi’s lips as Jungkook pushes next to him, displeased by how tiny his space bubble has gotten due to the huddle his members have formed around him. Just why the hell is everyone so interested in his new marketing director? That's what he wants to know.
“Can you introduce me to her sometime hyung?" Jungkook pleads. "I’m thinking about releasing an album in the next year and it’d be great if you could hook us up…yknow?”
Oh, Yoongi knows. He knows exactly what this young buck is insinuating, but it isn’t mating season yet and even if it were he will do no such thing as to “hook them up”. Besides, his conscience tells him that you wouldn't be interested in the company of a younger man anyway—not that your dating life is any of his business or anything.
“Get in line Jungkookie, behind Namjoon. He needs her for his album first.” Jimin squeezes down on Namjoon’s muscular shoulders with both hands, shaking him just enough to hype him up. His hands are removed seconds later when he’s told to knock it off.
“That’s enough about this, okay? I’m pretty sure Yoongi-hyung is the only one who actually needs __-nim right now because, in case you dumbasses have forgotten, D-Day is set to release in April,” Namjoon scolds the two with a commanding tone. Jungkook, per usual, remains persistent in his original request and keeps his full attention on Yoongi.
“Anyway hyung, as I was saying, I know your album takes priority so I’m in no hurry to meet her. I can be pretty patient as you know-“
“Heh, that’s a lie.”
“Shove it Jimin, no one’s talking to you.” Jungkook’s eyebrows scrunch together as Jimin snorts helplessly next to Namjoon.
“You shove it Kook,” Jimin counters. “And stop trying to date __-nim! Find your own woman!”
“I’m not trying to date her! She's my noona for gods sake! Do you think I’m oblivious to how the public reacts to idols dating? Also, __-nim is a Hybe employee, not an idol. I can only imagine the type of scandal the media would spin it as.”
“Right, we all know you actually just want to take her to your bed instead,” Jimin interrupts for the umpteenth time. “Our handsome leader, on the other hand, is interested in her professional abilities. We can learn a lot from him.”
“Why are you always trying to start a fight with me Jimin? Is it because I can take you, now that I've been building up more muscle?” Jungkook’s accusations earn him nothing more than a sea of eye-rolls until Jimin lunges himself towards him, puffing out his chest the best he can to size him up.
Namjoon rubs his face with a hand, a clear visual display of his exhaustion. He’s been moderating these stupid squabbles for nine years now. “Alright very mature, biggest boy band in the world and this is what it’s come to? Amazing, congrats to everyone for winning the award for most-”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Seokjin interjects, effortlessly shouting over everyone while waving his hands. “My brothers…why are we fighting over here like a couple of peacocks? We are all beautiful in our own, individual ways. Mine, for example, is my handsome face.”
“For the love of god hyung, we’re trying to settle something. Go take your inspirational pep talk elsewhere!” Jungkook bends his knees, swooping down to throw Jimin over his shoulder but he misses when the man starts tickling him ruthlessly.
“St-ah-stop it Jimin!"
“You stop it, you frickin’ brat! Trying to take advantage of our hyungs for your own selfish gain.” Jimin then slaps Jungkook on the ass which does not go unappreciated as Hoseok cackles from the other side of the room. Up until this point, he’s been scrolling on his phone, completely unbothered by the chaos. As Hoseok nears the action, Jungkook delivers a swift kick to Jimin’s rear end.
“Ow, what the fuck Kook?!” Jimin tries soothing the sting by massaging it with his hands. “You little prick!”
“Oh come on, I barely hit you. Gaining sympathy points won’t help this time, plus I see you trying to hide a grin. You think this shit is funny. You’re sick you know that?”
Jimin makes a move to return the kick to his youngest member but ends up hitting a far taller, and leaner subject instead. Taehyung, who just returned from the bathroom, throws a hand over his abdomen and grunts from the sudden impact.
“What is—shit Jimin that really hurt!” Taehyung’s baritone voice echoes off the walls as he winces from the pain. He takes a few deep breaths, then viciously eyes the two brawlers followed by the rest of the room. “What the hell is going on? I heard you all talking about __-nim from the hallway. Yoongi-hyung here is trying to kick off his album and tour, which we are supposed to be celebrating over drinks this Friday, but here you are arguing with each other and who has the biggest dick. Well, you can all put it away because as __-nim’s best friend, and number one wingman, only I’m allowed to set her up with someone and it won’t be with any of you! Sorry hyung…” he looks at Namjoon who appears to have brushed the comment off.
As soon as Taehyung ceases his mini-speech, eery silence sets in. Hoseok is the first to dare say a word.
“Uh, so what’s this about being her best friend Tae?”
“Yeah, I had no idea either.” Jimin quirks his head to the side, awaiting the details.
“Same,” Namjoon adds in a short breath.
“What happened to us, man?” Jungkook pouts at Taehyung, a total 180 from moments ago when he was in an unsolicited sparring match with Jimin. “You used to share everything with me. Now you’re holding out on me. Since when did you and __-nim start hanging out?”
Yoongi’s ears perk up for the first time since all the commotion began, curious to hear Taehyung’s response. He only recently discovered the blossoming friendship hours ago and even then, it was a brief inside look.
“I didn’t think to mention it but yeah, we started talking since her first day at Hybe. I bumped into her on the way into work, early morning for both of us. I expected her to be a bit on the reserved side, considering she was a new hire, but she was quite friendly. The more we talked, the more I felt like I knew her as if a childhood best friend I’d reconnected with.” Pausing, he wets his lips before continuing. “We share a lot of our meals together now, like our lunches during the weekday. Her food tastes amazing by the way. I think she missed her calling as a chef but it’s more than food— it’s a love language, a labor of love.”
“Wow, you two sure are connected,” Hoseok speaks first again, seeing the rest of his members working to process the new bit of info.
“Platonically, yes.”
“This’ll be good for Yoongi-hyung and his album then! No bad blood exists here!” Hoseok shifts his gaze between Taehyung and Yoongi, pleased with the outcome. The older of the two remains speechless, yet it’s far from a dazed expression. Yoongi is instead deep in thought, the wheels turning in his head.
So maybe it’s true that birds of a feather flock together, he hums to himself. The two of you seem to be social butterflies with a vase full of commonalities. He, on the other hand, prefers his solitude. That’s not to say he’s a hermit or anything though. Hybe hosts a company-wide New Year’s Eve party every single year and he’s made his best effort to attend them all. He mainly mingles with his members, but he still makes sure to small talk with other coworkers. Come to think of it, did he even see you at last year’s New Year’s Eve party?
He can’t remember much from the night except Seokjin scolding him for not wishing him a happy birthday the minute the clock struck midnight. He was a bit tipsy at that point. Taehyung disappeared soon after to make his usual rounds, stopping to chat with everyone in his path. Maybe he took off to talk to you during that time.
Okay, he really needs to stop thinking about you.
"Just to confirm, is everyone still on for Friday night to celebrate D-Day?" Jimin pipes. "I booked us a good place to have some food and drinks.
Taehyung nods, "I am, as long as it's not the same place we saw our CFO and his much younger date feeding each other. I couldn't eat for the rest of that night."
Jungkook fakes a gag before replying. "I'm sorry but does anyone know how is he still working here? Guy creeps me out."
"I swear, I couldn't agree more. Just yesterday he made an egregiously body-shaming comment toward __-nim to someone else on the board. She kept a brave front when she told me, but I'm damn tempted to get him removed from his position myself!" Taehyung's nostrils flare as he shares his frustration, fingers digging into his hips.
Yoongi takes a final chug of his water before abruptly tossing the bottle on the floor. A sharp crack resounds through the space, instantly commanding the authority of the room. “Fifteen minutes is over,” he gruffs. “It might be twenty minutes with all the bickering earlier. We don't have time to be talking about this anymore.”
“Come on now," Hoseok says. "Didn't you hear what Taehyung said? Our CFO really is a class-A jerk. I feel so bad that __-nim has to put up with his bullshit, she doesn't deserve it." His eyes frantically search the room, hoping to rally support.
"Don't worry about that asshole," Yoongi assures, "I'll handle it." He strides over to his choreographed position on the dance floor as if a leader in his own right, the rest of the members following in his steps.
"Just don't kill him, hyung," Namjoon says, resting a hand on the older's shoulder from behind. Yoongi merely snorts lightly in reply.
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Yoongi is dead tired, his feet feeling heavier the minute he stands from his studio chair. He could have left hours ago, but here it is nearly 9:30 at night, and he's only just leaving the office.
As he shuffles down the hallway towards the elevator, he notices the eerie silence. It's thick, almost palpable. There's not a soul left in the building this late at night. When the elevator doors open, he leans casually against the metal rail, closes his eyes, and mentally retraces his day.
Overall, it was a decent day, he thinks, productive at best. Skipping dinner to work on his album tracks was an easy decision, but he might be paying for it now given the intense growling of his stomach. Despite his songs being considered perfect by his members, he can't help but tweak each one a final time. It's as if his gut tells him there's still a piece missing from the whole.
All at once, the elevator comes to a sudden stop. Yoongi's eyes shoot open, anticipation flooding his senses. Is someone still here? He listens intently, straining to hear any sound over the faint hum of the elevator. After a few moments that feel like an eternity, the elevator doors slide open to reveal an empty, dimly lit hallway. It's the 16th floor. He hesitates for a second, peering into the shadows, but there’s no sign of anyone. Strange.
Just as the elevator doors begin to close, Yoongi hears a distant, unmistakable voice. "Please hold the door!" you plead, your voice strained with urgency. He responds immediately, stretching out an arm to block the door. "Thank you so much," you say, slipping in beside him, your bag thrown over your shoulder.
Yoongi watches as you enter, curiosity in his eyes. It seems you were of like mind tonight, working late and likely burdened by the extra work he caused for you. The feeling of tension is as clear as it was yesterday, lingering as a reminder of the unspoken discomfort between you both.
But then again, there's that issue Taehyung mentioned, looming in his thoughts. He hadn't realized you overheard the horrendous comment his CFO made about you. No wonder you hurried away from him like a bat out of hell yesterday; you knew he knew. He wouldn't dare shine a light on the situation and risk embarrassing you further; no one needs to relive such a belittling experience. Yet, he's wrestling with the right words to say.
"Heading home, Min PD-nim?" You surprise him by speaking first, voice firm with a touch of gentleness.
Yoongi allows a faint smile to tug at the corners of his lips, hoping it'll relieve some tension. "I am, it's been quite a day. What about you?"
You nod, shifting the bag on your shoulder. "Same here. Just had to wrap up a few things before heading out."
He hesitates for a moment, noting how you speak as if it were only a few minutes past five or six in the evening. "I understand. I was working in my studio up until now. I should be back up there tomorrow too," he says, then chuckles lightly, "Sometimes I feel like I should just live up there."
You return the subtle laugh and smile softly at him, your light brown eyes catching his dark ones. It feels like the same prolonged gaze you shared upon first meeting, yet now, it's somehow become easier; perhaps a hint of familiarity.
"By the way," he continues, seizing the opportunity, "feel free to call me Yoongi-ssi. I'm not that formal in case you didn't know." He playfully gestures to his casual attire; tan cargo pants, grey plaid button-down, and sneakers.
You seem hesitant towards the request at first, evident from your delayed response. "Are you sure?" you choke. "I don't want to over step my boundaries."
"There's no need to worry about that," he assures. "We're on equal level aren't we? If we're going to be working side by side for the next eight months give or take, I want us to feel comfortable with each other. Please, call me Yoongi-ssi."
"Okay, I might need some time to get used to that," you say, head nodding, "I'll try calling you Yoongi-ssi from now on."
"There's one other thing too," he pauses, "since we'll be working on D-Day's promotion from start to finish, I'll have many of my own opinions. It's a natural instinct for me, but I don't want to be a hinderance. I don't want anyone else giving you issues either, so I'd like to hear your full thoughts on matters, especially when it comes to important decisions."
"That means a lot Yoongi-ssi, thank you. I'm very grateful that you'd allow me to be a part of this and I'd very much like us to have an equal partnership. This is your album though, so I want to make sure it gets the recognition it deserves in the way you'd prefer."
Yoongi glances at the floor numbers displayed to the right of the elevator doors. Any second now and you'll reach the lobby. He wouldn't mind talking longer, but letting you both get a decent night's sleep is the far better idea at this point.
"I trust that D-Day is in the right hands with you, __ssi," he replies. "It's why I recommended that we work together to promote it in the first place. Bang PD was also confident in the idea. We don't doubt your expertise for a second." He pauses when the elevator doors slide open and allows you to be the first to exit. "Have a good night, okay?"
For the first time, you reciprocate the wish with a full, illuminating smile. It's not a professional one, Yoongi notes, its a real one—as genuine and sincere as his words. He takes it as a sign that the tides may finally be turning for the better. "You too," he hears you say before you push through the large revolving doors and step into the cool night air.
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In the evenings that follow, Yoongi finds himself back in his studio as promised, a glass of whiskey in hand. He ultimately decided that if he was going to be here until all hours of the night, he might as well have a cold beverage to keep him company.
As he leans back in his chair, swirling the dark amber liquor in his glass, his mind inadvertently wanders to you. Were you downstairs again? Were you here with him? It would seem that given your unexpected late-night encounter in the elevator, the validity of the idea wouldn't be all that wild or far-fetched.
With each passing minute, as the clock inches closer to the late hours, he finds himself circling back to the same thought. It's as if the possibility of running into you has become a highlight of his night.
Just then, a deep and familiar voice interrupts. "Burning the midnight oil again, hyung?"
Startled, Yoongi looks up to see Taehyung standing in the doorway, a sympathetic smile on his face. Despite it being almost 9 at night, his younger member is nothing short of flawless in appearance.
"Yeah, working on my tracks," Yoongi replies, offering a small smile in return. "What are you doing here?"
Taehyung steps further into the room, hand tucked in his pocket. "I wanted to stay late to keep __-nim company, but I'm not sure how much longer she plans on staying tonight. I was on my way out when I figured I'd stop by to see you too."
"Well, thanks for thinking of me. Want a drink?" He offers, nodding towards the nearby whiskey bottle.
"No, thanks," Taehyung declines politely, shaking his head. "I'll let you enjoy your whiskey in peace. Although, __-nim might take you up on that same offer one of these days. She has a strong taste for it, as you do. Anyway, I'm heading out. Don't overdo it with your music, hyung, they're already perfect."
Once Taehyung leaves the studio, Yoongi's previous string of thoughts return to him tenfold.
So you really are here, he muses, and you happen to like the same throat-burning alcohol. Should he venture downstairs and offer a drink? No, that would probably be too much, and he wouldn't want to interrupt you. Maybe if Taehyung were accompanying him, but not alone; he doesn't share enough rapport with you to merit such a spontaneous drop-in yet.
No, he takes another sip of his whiskey, he'll see you tomorrow morning instead; during your morning meeting. But that gets him thinking—he's still yet to decide on whether or not he'll make an appearance on Fallon's show. He’d done it with his members numerous times, but this would be the first time doing it alone. His album would indeed benefit from the exposure, though.
"Damn it," he curses, raising from his seat. "I work my ass off. I work my ass off for it all!" He then sits back down, finishing off the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, the burn soothing his frustration momentarily. With a resigned sigh, he turns his attention back to his music. "Damn it, I guess I'll do it."
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If it weren't for his phone notification reminding him of his 10 am meeting on Friday, Yoongi would have missed it entirely. Normally, he never forgets important events, but several late nights in the studio had predictably caught up with him. He feels extremely sleep-deprived today, his memory more prone to blanking than usual. Waking up with a throbbing headache at 5 am, which hasn't dimmed in the slightest, doesn’t help either. Nonetheless, with only ten minutes to spare, Yoongi has no choice but to pull himself together and head downstairs to the conference room.
"Good morning, Min PD-nim," you greet him as he walks through the door. "We're about to start."
Yoongi drags out a chair and takes a seat. You look nice today, he notes quietly to himself. He makes sure to send a small smile your way before returning the warm greeting. "Good morning __-ssi," he says. "I told you we can speak informally didn't I?"
He waits for your response, easily tuning out the startled reactions from the rest of the team. Most high-ranking officials in the organization expected to be addressed formally by those in lower positions, but here he was, openly requesting you to speak as equals. It was almost unheard of during work hours. He was Min Yoongi, after all.
"Right, of course," you reply, "You'll have to excuse me, Yoongi-ssi. It slipped my mind for a moment."
Yoongi watches as you shuffle a few papers in your hand before continuing. "To get us started, I thought we'd discuss the decision to schedule a spot on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. Will we be proceeding with this?"
"After mauling it over I think it's a good idea for the album. Do we have an idea of when this would happen?"
"Ideally after the album releases and around the time the U.S. tour begins April 26th. I say we aim for early May. Given Fallon's show's high demand, we'll need to get a jump on this as soon as we can." You shift your attention to your digital marketing and promotions team. "So-hyun, can you reach out to the producers and see what strings we can pull?"
She nods, scribbling a quick note on her writing pad. "We'll reach out today. I'll let you know as soon as we get a response."
"Excellent, thank you. I'm glad to hear you're on board with this Yoongi-ssi. It'll be a great way to promote D-Day and attract a global audience. The more smartly we utilize our resources, the better your album will be positioned in the current market." You take a brief pause to flip through your notes again. "Speaking of resources, we'll need to start booking magazine shoots and interviews. I'm proposing we run cover pages with Marie Claire Korea and Vogue Japan."
Yoongi would be taken aback by the flood of ideas and schedules you're firing at him, all within the first fifteen minutes, if he weren't already aware of your level of competency. This is exactly why he chose you, he hums to himself, your preparedness is impressive, but not surprising.
"I presume this will take place next year?" he asks. "During their spring issues?"
"Absolutely. We'll submit inquiries soon to get the ball rolling, but having the shoots completed now would be premature. Plus, it'll take some time before there are any openings with the companies. I think we should be consistent with tour dates and have Marie Claire go out in May and Vogue ready in August of next year."
"Okay, I'm fine with all that but we'll need to have something exciting released now, don't we? I know I start my weekly lives tonight, but shouldn't there be something more we can do?"
"I agree," you reply. "That's why I wanted to propose a brand new idea that came to me a couple of nights ago while I was drafting promotional content. Anytime idols release a new album or music, it gets published on YouTube, right?"
He nods, curious on where you're heading. "Right."
"Why don't we start a talk show with you as the host Yoongi-ssi? It can allow your fans to see another side of you, as well as the general public. We can invite your BTS members as guests where you can discuss music or past challenges that you've had to overcome—the choice is yours. To make it more interesting for viewers, you can have these frank conversations over a glass of whiskey or soju."
"I like the idea," he says, weighing it in his mind. "What would the timeline look like for this?"
"If we move forward with the idea, I suggest December 5th and we continue it for a max of two months. I know that only leaves us with just under two weeks to get started, but creating the set shouldn't take more an a day or a day and a half. We can also easily shoot a 30 to 60-minute video in an afternoon and publish it on YouTube the following week. Of course, a preview of the show will need to go out beforehand."
"Would we be able to invite other guests to the show? Outside of my members, I mean."
"Yes, feel free to invite whoever you'd like. We can start with the member for the first several episodes but ultimately, welcoming a variety of guests from the same or differing industries would be the goal."
"If I may." A member of the social media team suddenly joins the discussion, "I think Kim Namjoon-nim might be a good person to feature first since Indigo releases December 2nd."
Yoongi nods in agreement. "I can ask him."
"That would be fantastic, actually. If his availability is limited, we could have him guest star for the second or third episode instead," you add. "Hoseok released Jack in the Box this summer so we could have him be the first guest as well."
"Do we have a name yet?"
"Suchwita," you answer without hesitation. "It's a play on words with Daechwita."
"Suchwita..." Yoongi repeats, "Time to get drunk." He chuckles at the last few words, amusing the room, but you remain contemplative.
"How about Suchwita...time to drink with Suga, instead? It's simple and has a slight whimsical nature."
"Sure, let's use that," he answers, noticing that you've already begun jotting down the idea. "Yours is better."
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Despite the adrenaline from the productive meeting with you and your team, Yoongi still feels the weight of his sleepless nights bearing down on him. His headache remains relentless and he is in dire need of a moment to himself. Once the team disperses, he slips his phone into his pocket and makes his way outside. The crisp, early morning air should offer him some relief, along with the pack of cigarettes tucked in his pocket.
When he reaches the building's designated smoking area, Yoongi takes out a cigarette and lights it, taking a deep drag as he leans against the cool brick wall. As he exhales, watching the smoke dissipate into the clear sky, his thoughts drift back to the meeting. The idea of hosting a talk show, "Suchwita...time to drink with Suga," still lingers in his mind. It’s an intriguing concept, and he can already envision the relaxed, candid conversations that could come from it.
His thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching on the ground nearby.
"Oh, Yoongi-ssi," you say with alarm, obviously startled by his presence. "I didn't mean to interrupt you. I'll come back lat-"
"There's no need for that. Join me if you'd like." Yoongi watches as you hesitate to accept his offer, your feet already positioned to head back inside the building. "Seriously, there's plenty of room, and no matter what they'll tell you, I don't bite."
He allows himself to smirk as you carefully move beside him, only stopping when there is at least two feet of space between you both.
"Thanks," you say, pulling out your own pack of cigarettes and lighting one. "I needed a break too."
"Rough morning?"
"Just busy," you reply, leaning against the wall next to him. "But the meeting went well. We should be able to get the ball rolling now that we have a more finalized plan. I'm glad you liked the idea of starting Suchwita, by the way."
"I do," Yoongi says, nodding. "It has a lot of potential and I'm sure Namjoon will be more than happy to help us out. He's a natural at this kind of stuff. I guess it's why he's our band leader."
"You know you're good at all of this too, don't you, Yoongi-ssi?" You pause, taking a puff of your cigarette. "Even when you have a lot on your mind and a packed schedule, you have a knack for making people feel at ease. It's why I think producing Suchwita will be such a great way to connect with fans and other artists—you'll be the host."
He chuckles, appreciative of the remark. "You really think that? That I make people feel at ease? It's not what a lot of people assume."
"Nah," you reply, tilting your head up toward the clouds. "They're just on the outside looking in. Those who know you, who are around you and talk to you, will agree that you're a pretty calming presence."
"Well, I think we're not so different then." Yoongi shifts his eyes to your face, still looking up at the sky, and smiles softly. "So, what made you come to BigHit? Didn't you say you worked for Atlantic Records? That's a pretty good gig."
"Yeah, it was. I learned a lot there, and man, I was thrilled when I got offered the job as a brand manager. I've always loved music, ever since I was a kid. I could connect so intimately with the lyrics. Music is one of the few things that could soothe me during rough times, and it still does today. I'm sure you can understand."
Yoongi nods, intent on listening to your every word, intrigued by your story.
"Anyway, sorry about getting long-winded here" you chuckle. "I ultimately decided to move on when Bang PD reached out and offered me the marketing manager position for TXT. It gave me the chance to be a more integral part of bringing music to individuals who need it most. It's like we say, 'music for art and healing.' I'd never had the opportunity to manage a completely new set of musicians before either, let alone a group. Plus, being on the global marketing team? I couldn't turn it down."
"It makes sense why you joined us then, and I have to say, it's a blessing you did too. Music is a way of communication for me, a way I can best express my story. That includes my past, present, and hopefully future. After hearing all you shared, I don't think there's anyone else I'd trust with handling my album promos." Yoongi pauses a moment, unsure if he should ask the next thing on his mind. "How come we never met before? I mean really meet and talk?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure myself. But things have a way of falling into place when the time is right, I suppose." You're now looking at him, the intensity of your gaze mirrors his own. A gentle breeze tousles a few strands of your hair and for a split moment, Yoongi begins to understand what Taehyung meant earlier when he said it feels like he's known you his whole life, like a childhood friend he'd reconnected with. While it may not be to that extent for himself, there's a comforting warmth emanating from you that leaves him feeling strangely tranquil.
"Given the circumstances, I feel like we should have at least met through Taehyung by now," he slips out. "Or even at a company-sponsored event."
"Why, do you like me that much, Yoongi-ssi? After five days of working together?" Your playful tease catches him off guard, revealing a side of you he hadn't seen before. It's kind of cute-wait, what?
"I-"
"Sorry," you quickly interject, feeling the need to backtrack. "I shouldn't have said it like that."
"Don't worry, there's no need for apologies. And to answer your question, I like you enough." He hopes you can hear the tease in his own tone as he responds.
You both lapse into a comfortable silence for the next few minutes, the only sounds being the distant hum of traffic and the occasional chirp of a bird. He finds all of it soothing in a way he can't quite explain.
After a few minutes, you turn to him, your expression thoughtful. "You know, if you ever need to talk or just need a break, I'm here. We're teammates now."
Yoongi looks at you, his tired eyes softening with gratitude. "Thanks, __-ssi."
You give him a reassuring smile before pushing off the wall. "I'll let you finish your cigarette. See you later? And by later, I likely mean at 9 or 10 pm in our company elevator."
"Yeah, see you later," he laughs, watching as you walk back toward the building. He takes one last inhale, extinguishing the cigarette and letting the remaining smoke escape his lips slowly.
Yeah, he likes you just enough.
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a/n: Hope you enjoyed it! Lmk what you think 🥰
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mynahx3 · 7 months
Text
One Moment Was All It Took Part 2
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Here’s the part 2 of Soulmate Gojo based off of @envy-of-the-apple HC !!! Prob gonna have like 6 parts ngl lolol Hope everyone enjoys, might be able to get part 3 out by Mon if my schedule remains open.  Warning this chapter has non con touching, drugging, kidnapping, fighting w/ mentions of blood!! If this disturbs you please don’t read Next part with prob be spicy Masterlist
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A couple weeks  have passed since that cafe incident, and it completely slipped your mind—something you laughed about with your fiance when you got home that day. He wasn't very amused, but you brushed it off as just a strange encounter. Your mind was preoccupied with the upcoming wedding in the coming months. The colorful sticky notes with wedding tasks covered the calendar on your fridge, each one a reminder of the preparations ahead, and a sense of giddiness filled you whenever you glanced at the detailed schedule.
You sit perched on a stool in your cozy kitchen, meticulously reviewing wedding preparations on your laptop. Your eyes stung slightly as you read the screen, a frown evident on your face, longing for your fiance's presence to assist you. He had to attend a sudden business trip that took him out of the country.
It was good news, meaning his boss began to trust him with more responsibilities, but it also meant you were left to handle the wedding planning on your own for the time being. You were pleased to see him advancing in his career, yet you also felt somewhat overwhelmed by the additional responsibilities you had to manage.
After stretching, you stand up to take a break when the doorbell rings. Confusion overwhelms you as you approach the door, peering through the peephole to find nobody there. You open the door, keeping the chain attached as you look around. No one was there. While closing the door, you notice a vase filled with beautiful flowers on your welcome mat. A smile blooms on your face at the sight of the flowers, and you bring them into your apartment.
The flowers looked expensive in a beautiful crystal vase with a note attached to the neck of it, trimmed with gold. It reads, "Thinking of you always, even from afar. S." Your heart swells with warmth as you assume it was your fiance's thoughtful gesture. Pulling out your phone, you decide to call them and thank them for the surprise. The line rings for a few seconds before he answers, his voice happy and excited to hear from you. Noise in the background, likely from his busy office.
"Well, aren't you the romantic?" You say this, admiring the flowers sitting in front of you. A bright smile on your face as you hold your phone to your ear.
"What did I do this time?" He asked with a laugh, not understanding what you meant. You chuckle at his confusion, feeling even more grateful for his thoughtfulness.
"The flowers you sent, silly," you reply, feeling the softness of the petals on your fingertips. "Thank you, baby."
The line is silent—so silent that you think the phone dropped. Just as you were about to hang up and call back, he spoke.
"Honey… I didn't send you anything." Your smile fades at his words, your heart sinking as you wonder who could have possibly sent such a thoughtful gift.
"I'm… I'm sure the delivery person just got the wrong apartment." You shrug, looking around it to see if there was anything else written on the card—the only piece of paper on it.
Turning it over, your heart drops, and you see your name written in the golden ink with a heart next to it. You feel a shiver run down your spine at the implications, but you choose to keep it to yourself. Not wanting to ruin his mood and throw him off during such an important meeting.
"I'll just ask the front desk if anyone asks about them; I'd hate for whoever sent them to be mad that it went to the wrong person." You laugh as you crumble the card up in your hand.
"Now I feel bad I didn't get that idea." Your fiance' laughs, your nerves easing a little at the sound. "Promise I'll do something way better, sweet cheeks."
The corny nickname makes you laugh and roll your eyes. Since your high school days, he had always been cheesy and overly romantic, qualities you cherished. In the years that you supported one another, you both experienced a great deal. Despite the difficulties, you both emerged stronger after transitioning from broke college students to starting careers together in Japan. At times, he couldn't express his love in the most conventional ways, but his efforts were always genuine and appreciated.
"I got to go, babe. Another meeting is about to start." He sighed, his coworkers shouting his name over the phone. "I love you; I'll be home in a few weeks."
"I love you too." You smile happily, hearing him give you kisses through the receiver before hanging up.
You're left to your own thoughts, the vase sitting pretty in front of you. Mind trying to figure out who must have sent them. Being the taken woman you were, you couldn't figure out who must have sent them, if not your fiance'. The mystery sender lingered in your mind for a bit. But you brush it off, moving on with your day, thinking maybe a family member or friend sent them. Going on with the rest of your day, a day filled with phone calls and scheduling, you forget about the bouquet sitting on your counter.
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The flowers should have been the first clue, a warning sign of what was to come. Over time, you begin to feel uneasy, feeling constantly watched. Small things in your apartment were moved or went missing—things you know you didn't touch before leaving. Additional gifts mysteriously appeared on your doorstep, each accompanied by intricately detailed notes, intensifying in their personal nature.
Fury consumed you as you unwrapped another package, revealing a set of lacy lingerie in your size and favorite color. A note with it, written in the familiar handwriting, simply said, "For our special night." The realization hits you like a ton of bricks: someone has been in your home, watching your every move. Fear grips you as you realize the extent of the intrusion into your personal space. You burned that gift without a second thought; any other gift was sent to the trash.
Your nights were restless, alone in your apartment—or at least, you hoped you were alone. The feeling of being watched grew stronger, causing you to constantly look over your shoulder. You couldn't shake the feeling that someone was always nearby, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal themselves. The once innocent gifts and flowers now felt like a sinister presence in your life, leaving you on edge and paranoid. You had even gone to the police, informing them what was happening, but they said they couldn't do anything without concrete evidence of a threat. This only added to your growing sense of dread.
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Walking home from lunch with your friends, you decided to detour to a park, needing a moment of solitude. Sitting on a bench, cherry blossoms fall around you, their delicate petals drifting to the ground like whispers of reassurance, offering a sense of peace and tranquility in the midst of your fear.
As you take deep breaths and enjoy the gentle wind tousling your hair, you fail to notice someone sitting beside you as you drift off in thought. A tap on your shoulder brings you back to reality with a jump. Looking at where it came from, your eyes widen in shock at the white haired man sitting next to you. It took a second before your mind recognized him; he was the man from the cafe. There was a smile on his face, perfect as you remembered, one that brought you an icy feeling down your spine. He tilted his head, holding a single flower to you, a ribbon tied to its stem.
"Fancy seeing you here." He grinned.
Feeling unsure of how to react, you stared at the man with bewilderment, your heart beating fast. You weren't stupid enough to trust him, frowning at his close proximity. His presence put you on edge, as memories of what he said weeks ago ran through your mind. Knowing he was the one behind the unsettling messages you have been receiving the last week. Pouting, he let the flower droop a little in his hand once he realized you wouldn't take it from him.
"Don't be like that." He sighed dramatically, dropping the flower to his side, eyeing your form.
His smile was charming, reminiscent of when you first met. His eyes twinkled mischievously over his sunglasses. Under different circumstances, you might have admitted that he was quite attractive. Now he only sent chills down your spine, especially with how comfortably he said your name, as if he had known you for years.
As your shoulders tense, you try to move away from him, but just like before, he grabs your wrist. Pulling you to sit back down with him. His grip was ironclad, unmoving as you writhed in a futile attempt to break free. Every detail of his eyes was sharp and intense, as if they were staring deep into your soul.
"You know I'm surprised; you were super easy to keep an eye on." His words dripped with chilling confidence, sending a jolt of fear through you and causing your heart to race even faster. "You should really pay more attention to your surroundings. You never know what monsters lurk out there, ready to eat up a cutie like you."
"What… what do you want?" You asked, your voice small, and your throat felt tight in fear. The grip on your wrist tightened as he leaned in closer.
"That doesn't matter right now," he said casually, his tone sending shivers down your spine. "Let's get to know each other a little."
He wraps his arm back around you, letting go of your wrist to bring your body closer to his. To anyone walking by, it would just look like a couple enjoying the spring weather together. Your body was rigid as he rubbed your shoulder a bit roughly, his cold fingers feeling your soft skin.
You wish you hadn't worn that dress today; its low neckline and thin straps gave him easy access to your skin. Goosebumps littered your arms as you tried to subtly move away from his touch. His grip tightened slightly, indicating his control over your movement. A sinking feeling in your stomach settled, and you knew you needed to get away.
"I don't want anything to do with you." You told him, wishing there wasn't a waver in your voice, wishing you stood stronger against him.
His entire energy and demeanor were intense, but there was a slight furrow in his brow at your words. It was gone as soon as you noticed it, and the same cocky grin was on his face the next second.
"Princess, I don't think you have a choice." His words sent a chill down your spine, filling you with fear at the core of your being.
Silently, he retrieved his phone and began scrolling through a series of photos. The photos displayed your family, friends, and your fiancé. Your loved ones are living their lives, oblivious to the danger they are in because of you. He even has pictures of you from the last week, going from you at work to you in your apartment in your private moments. Finally, he stops the slideshow, sliding the phone back into his pocket.
"Get where this is going?" He chuckles, edging even closer to make sure your thighs touch. "It was difficult to find any real dirt on your boy toy; he's a good guy. I will give him that, but... I know exactly how to make him disappear."
You nod slowly, feeling the lingering threat of danger in the air as you try to comprehend the gravity of the situation. His presence caused you to take short, panicked breaths. This is something he actually notices: a softer look in his eyes now while his hand moves to rub your thigh comfortingly. Your body stiffens as you feel the tip of his fingers tracing just below the hem of your dress.
"Gotta cut this short. Still have to prepare a few things real quick; I couldn't help but check in on my girl." He leans closer to kiss your cheek softly before pulling away.
You didn't respond, feeling too suffocated next to him. Your wide eyes focused on him; it seemed he wanted to be flush with you no matter how much you squirmed away. Fortunately, he doesn't prolong the moment, letting go of your shoulder and putting his hands on his knees.
"I'll come get you shortly; I don't want to keep you waiting too long." He says it playfully, winking as he puts a piece of gum in his mouth and smacks it noisily.
With that, he rises from the bench, looking down at you with a beaming smile, and turns to walk away. He disappears from sight, walking out of the park. This left you feeling worse than before as you wiped your cheek clean. Your gut feelings intensified, urging you to run.
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When you got home, you immediately started packing, changing into a simple pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Hurriedly packing a bag with the bare essentials, leaving a mess behind in your wake. You didn't know exactly what you would do, yet you had to get away. The urgency of the situation propelled you forward, heedless of consequences or sacrifices.
It was unbearable to see your stalker in real life—a smack in the face of the true danger you were in. Quickly, you texted your fiance', explaining you were going to stay with a friend for a few days. Once you finally explained to him the situation with the stalker, he called to discuss the next steps.
"You should've told me what was happening."
"I know… I didn't want to worry you. This meeting was important." Tears welled in your eyes, and the stress of everything came to a head. Confiding in him finally brought you comfort, but a part of you felt guilty for not telling him sooner.
"Not more important than you and your safety, I love you."
"I love you too." You whispered into the phone, wiping any stray tears from your face.
"I'll get the next flight out. Stay at your friend's place until I get there," he said firmly. "Keep your taser on you wherever you go. Be safe."
"I will, thank you," you replied, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, knowing he was on his way to be by your side. The thought of having him there to support you made the situation feel more manageable.
He quickly explained the stalker situation to his boss, secured the next available flight, and ended the call upon reaching the airport. The sun had long set, and the dark sky was beginning to fill with twinkling stars, visible through the windows.
On any other night, you would have enjoyed the starry night with a glass of wine and your favorite book, but now you ignore the view. Focus on packing up for your impromptu trip away from the comforts of your home. Once you finished packing, you moved a suitcase into the living room, ready to leave.
A sudden, hard knock at the door surprises you greatly, causing you to jump. It repeats after a moment; much harsher, the door shakes in its frame. Nervously, you move silently to see who it was. Through the peephole, you see that cursed head of snow white hair, his smile as wide as ever. Stepping back, your breath catching in your throat, and your legs turning to jelly as adrenaline surged through your veins. Your stalker was outside your apartment, banging on the door while calling out your name in a joyful tone.
As escape plans raced through your mind, the realization of being in a high-floor apartment without a fire escape sank in, presenting a daunting obstacle. Panic grips you as you frantically reach for your phone in the kitchen. Just as you go to grab it, a loud, crashing sound comes from behind.
Turning around, you see the front door on the floor with a crater in it, and your stalker is smiling menacingly at you. For a moment, you both freeze, a standoff of short going on. Without hesitation, you reach for a knife from the block on the counter behind you and hold it out in front. Despite your nerves, your hands didn't shake as you pointed the sharp knife at him, a cold stare on your face.
"Get the fuck out."
The man smiles at this, laughing a bit at your attempt to intimidate him. As he stepped forward to come closer to you, his finger traced over the countertops. At that moment, you instinctively step back from him, creating distance between you. You both circled the kitchen island cautiously while he slowly removed the bandages covering his eyes.
He put the bandages on the counter, his blue eyes watching your every move like a hawk. He pauses, smirking, his hand stopping just at your phone, then quickly picks it up and crushes it in his hand. Letting the phone fall to the counter in a broken mess, he looks at you with a wide grin.
"Now we can have some real fun."
The front door was behind him; you knew you had to risk running past him or deeper into your apartment. The latter wasn't the best idea since you would be trapped in a corner with no way out but to run you would have to risk getting caught by him. With a deep breath, you made a split-second decision to dart towards the door, hoping to make it out before he could react.
As you sprint to the front door, he easily catches you, wrapping strong arms around your waist. Knife still in hand, you try to swipe at him from behind, only earning you a twist of your arm. A sharp pain radiates through your arm as he twists it more into an awkward angle, making you yell in pain and drop it to the floor in a loud clang.
Pulling you closer, he easily holds you against him, not being phased by your kicking and screams. Securing an arm around your waist, his hand held both your wrists with ease. He leans in, burying his head in the crook of your neck and taking a deep, unsettling breath. The other hand goes over your mouth to muffle your screams. In retaliation, you managed to wiggle your face out, biting down hard on his hand, your tongue flooding with a coppery taste.
This didn't seem to phase him; his blood was dripping down your chin. The metallic tang of his blood is sickening you. Nevertheless, you continue to struggle in his arms, trying to elbow him to break free. A guttural moan escapes his lips as he plants small, chilling kisses on the skin of your neck, enjoying this moment. You feel trapped, like a rat in a snake's grip, desperate for a chance to escape.
"You're so soft." He whispers into your ear, tightening his grip over you, not budging as you dig your heel into his shins.
Teeth still clenched on his hand, digging deeper for him to let go. When he didn't respond you released your jaw, you threw your head back. You hit him square in the nose, eliciting a gasp of pain from him. Blood drips from his nose as he stumbles back, momentarily stunned. Seizing the opportunity, you push him away and run as fast as you can, your heart pounding in your chest.
You run towards the door, the gaping exit mocking you, so close yet so far. You don't make it much farther; he grabs your hair harshly and throws you to the ground. On the floor, you cough and gasp for air. The impact of your back on the hardwood knocked air out of your lungs. As you crawl away from him, trying to regain your breath, he stands in front of the only exit, looking over at you with a menacing grin.
"Here, I thought it would be easy; God, I fucking love this." He wipes his nose with his sleeve, smearing blood on his face. A demented look on his face tells you that he's enjoying this far too much. "As much as I want to continue, kind of on a time crunch, babe. I'm pretty sure your lovely neighbors have already called the police."
Saying this, he crouches down, pulling you to him by your ankle. You kick at him with your other foot, one connected to his chin, but he only laughs in response, dodging any more of your attempts to fight back.
"You're a feisty one, I like that," he chuckles, tightening his grip on your ankle as he begins to drag you closer. "You're not going anywhere."
Your heart races as you desperately search for a way out of this nightmare. Keeping a hold of you, he pulls out a syringe filled with mysterious liquid from his pocket. The sight makes your heart drop. In your shock, he stabs it roughly into your thigh, pushing the liquid in. As the drug takes effect, your vision blurs and your body goes limp, leaving you at his mercy.
"Sweet dreams." He takes you into his arms, watching you fall into unconsciousness. The last thing you hear before blacking out is his sinister chuckle echoing in your ears
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Hope you enjoyed lovelies! Likes/ reblogs are appreciated &lt;3 pls no repost
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yoonieper · 3 months
Text
For the Birds— Prologue | JJK
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I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.
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♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (feat. Yuri) 
♡ Genre: angst, smut, future fluff
♡ Rated: D for Disappointment
♡ Series Warnings: Lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation! This chapter is not too bad, but please read with caution going forward!
♡ Chapter Warnings: Jk sad boy, Yuri being… :/, oral (f. receiving), masturbation (m)
♡ Word Count: 12.6k
♡ Summary: As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.
♡ Now Playing: LOVE. by Kendrick Lamar (feat. Zacari)– see masterlist for full playlist!
♡ Betas: Thank you so much to @illyrian-book-lover and @teawithhoneyandlemon for reading this part for me! If you’re interested in betaing future parts, dm me. If you're interested in becoming a permanent beta for this series please first click here and refer to 'details about the job' section for more details and dm for any questions you might have! 
♡ Author’s Note: I’ve been working on this for a while, but I got sudden inspiration to finish the prologue~ This series should get pretty exciting, so stay tuned! ← Omg y’all the prologue has been in my drafts since 2020 :’) This series has gone through a lot of evolution that I might talk about in the future. This series is very different from where it started, but the prologue has always remained vastly the same, so it has a special place in my heart! Hope you enjoy the series my friends, this one is very emotional, so prepare for the rollercoaster ahead! I’m excited to show you what’s to come <3!
No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much : D
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main masterlist ✩ series masterlist » next chapter
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“Secretary Yu, could you remind me of the schedule for the day?”Jungkook let his disgruntled sigh fill the room as he rubbed his temples, doing anything he could for a chance to soothe the subtle pounding in his head. Displeasure was painted all over his features, and his eyes were tightly closed while he listened to his assistant’s clicking heels stop in front of his desk. 
The room was dark, but that hadn’t kept his retinas from burning any less as he looked at the woman in front of him— he didn’t know at this point if it was because of all the crying or the exhaustion from waking up so early. The day had only just begun, and he already wanted it to end; to just climb back in bed, sleep away his troubles, and forget everything that transpired over the last 24 hours. Hell, maybe there was still a chance he was asleep, and that this was all just a bad nightmare his brain had conjured up in nervousness.
“Director Jeon? I didn’t expect you to be in so early.” Secretary Yu Min-ju tried to smile but the furrowing of her eyebrows made it obvious she was a little confused. This hadn’t been part of the plan they discussed. Jungkook didn’t let the moment linger, instead, gave her a firm look of exasperation that made her hastily pull out her tablet to find his schedule. 
Her usual cheerfulness was not what he needed today. 
Min-ju couldn't stop the smile appearing on her face when she saw its rare emptiness. “Your hard work these past few days has paid off. Today is pretty light. A meeting with the financial team at 12, and then another meeting at 1pm with Mr. Cho. You should be able to go home after that.” The secretary warmly smiled.
Jungkook’s eyes drifted down to the picture sitting on his desk as she spoke. It was of him and his wife on their honeymoon last year to The Maldives. They had been walking on the beach and his mother had texted and begged for a picture of the new couple; Jungkook could do nothing but oblige. Yuri had clung onto his shoulders when he held up his phone, and upon counting down to one, gave him a surprise kiss on the cheek leading to Jungkook’s eager, unnaturally wide smile being captured forever and memorialized on his desk. He couldn’t help but frown. 
He wanted to be excited, craved for it, yearned for it, but home was the last place he wanted to be right now. All that hard work for nothing. For once he wished he had more to do, anything to keep his mind busy.
“Didn’t I have deadlines for a few upcoming reports?” He suddenly questioned. 
Min-ju looked farther down her list and she nodded. “There are a few documents that need reviewing and signatures, but a majority of them aren’t due till next week. But you don’t need to—“ 
“I’ll get them done today.” Jungkook’s tone was astoundingly emotionless, completely void of the delightful emotion he had spoken with in the days leading up to today. Min-ju was at a loss for words. She knew how hard he worked to free up his day for the special occasion. What's with the sudden change of plans? What happened? 
It was Jungkook himself who had requested for her to try and free his schedule so he would be in the office for as little time as possible. There was no joy or giddiness behind his eyes like she had expected. Min-ju had pictured her boss walking in with a strange cheerfulness in his mood, rainbows and sparkles practically dancing around him as he skipped through the halls and greeted her good morning. But his tone lacked spirit altogether. Jungkook was like a husk compared to the person she said goodbye to the evening prior. 
“I— uh alright, I’ll make sure to send them to you later sir.” Min-ju bowed, before she scrambled away. 
Jungkook listened intently to the way her heels tentatively clicked while she walked out, it was at a certain speed that told him she was rushing to get out of there. As soon as the door closed behind her, he let out a loud sigh as he leaned back in his chair. 
What a fucking disappointment this whole day turned out to be.
Jungkook had planned today to be one of the most preeminent days for him and his wife as a couple and those plans were all squashed within a second last night. It had been playing over and over in his head since he woke up this morning.
He tangled his hands in his hair, his grip growing tighter and tighter on his short locks as the reality of the situation hit him for the billionth time. It just wouldn’t stop, replaying in a loop hoping something might change. That he’d wake up from this nightmare, or maybe even realize something that in the heat of the moment had gone entirely unnoticed— anything to explain what happened. Last night still didn’t feel real. 
The cancellation had been entirely unexpected.
•────•──────────•────•
Last night Jungkook had been in high spirits all day. A radiance was cast on his features by the pure, exorbitant elation flowing through his body. It was like the most beautiful display of fireworks were going off all at once, tickling his insides, and making the smile on his face grow so wide it hurt his cheeks but he couldn’t find it in him to stop. After all, tomorrow was going to be the turning point for their relationship. Something was about to happen, he was sure of it.
Jungkook was lying on their shared bed, having just recently come out from the shower. His hair was still slightly damp, and a giddy smile was plastered on his face as he scrolled through his phone. He was eagerly reviewing their itinerary for their plans tomorrow. 
D-day. The day that Jungkook and his wife were meant to celebrate their one and a half year anniversary. It might be a weird occasion to commemorate, but after being apart for too many holidays and milestones for various reasons, Jungkook went out of his way and made it a point to plan something to make up for all the lost time. 
He let his attention turn from his phone and settled on his wife who was meticulously going through her nightly routine at her vanity. His smile softened as he silently watched her dab night cream across her cheeks. 
How was this his life?
Sometimes it was a little hard to believe Yuri was actually his wife, it was almost intimidating at how beautiful she was. Her eyes were round yet sharp in their gaze as she focused on the mirror. Her skin was usually so soft but it shined even more so at that moment from all the various oils and moisturizers she made sure to use every night. Her long, dark hair flowed nicely down her back but was pushed out of her face by a cute, fuzzy, gray headband. And even in pajamas, she managed to carry this level of elegance that pulled him in so easily. 
Jungkook bit his lip to contain the smile that was threatening to envelop him entirely. 
The outfit was especially a big deal. It was different from the shorts and tank tops she’d normally wear. It had been his idea to start the celebration with matching pajamas, a slight preview to the day he had planned for the both of them. Jungkook’s heart had hammered in his chest when Yuri relented and agreed to wear the set he had given to her before she went to shower. It matched his own exactly. It was nothing too special, but a nice way to bring them together before the big day. A simple, gray pajama-button-down-classic; the material was so soft and he knew Yuri would look just as amazing as it felt. 
She always did.
His excitement was almost overflowing, Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from getting up so he was right behind her. He wrapped his arms around her small frame, and gently placed a quick peck on her neck. 
“I’m so excited for tomorrow~” He hummed lightly into her skin. 
Yuri didn’t say anything, her attention trained on her reflection. 
“What about you? Are you looking forward to spending the day together and doing all the fun stuff I have planned?” He sang. As soon as the words left his mouth he knew it sounded cringey, but for once he didn’t care. He just wanted to hear it, that she was excited to be with him.
Yuri’s gaze eventually flickered over to him before she turned around to face him. 
“Jungkook, I have to tell you something…“ She sighed. He tried to ignore his uneasy feeling about her tone. 
“Oh, you did?” Jungkook attempted to fight back his disappointment. That wasn’t what he hoped she’d say. 
“Yeah, I did,” she muttered. He hated the look on his face as he peered into the mirror. A slight frown had dimmed down his smile, and he wanted to do anything to wipe it away. There was no time for frowning, he didn’t want to ruin tomorrow before it even started. He shouldn’t overthink it.
“I had something I needed to mention too.” He went back over to the bed. “I wasn’t able to get out of my meetings tomorrow so I’ll have to go in for a few hours, but I promise I’ll come straight back here.” He had really tried, but there was no way to reschedule them any further into the week. At least that was the only thing on his agenda tomorrow, however, he had wanted to take the day off completely and spend it with his wife. 
Jungkook saw Yuri’s face drop. 
“Don't worry, I’ll be here all morning! I worked hard to clear my schedule as much as I could, it’ll just be two meetings and then I’m back.” He tried to smile. Hopefully, she wouldn’t mind the brief interruption too much.
“Actually—“ Yuri dragged it out as she looked back into the mirror to make sure she rubbed in the cream well, “I have plans tomorrow.” She put it frankly. 
Jungkook blinked a couple of times before a look of confusion settled on his features. “Plans?” His voice had grown small. It didn’t have a reason to yet, but maybe all along he knew where this was going the minute she brought it up.
“I have a friend from when I went to school in the US coming to visit.” She mumbled. Jungkook couldn’t hide the disappointment from showing. 
“Oh? Um…”
“We’re planning to spend some time together, so…” 
“When will you guys be done?” He questioned, still a little shocked that she was just telling him about this now, the day before their plans. “Hopefully we can work around it. Maybe you guys could meet up while I’m gone so it doesn’t mess up—“ 
“Jungkook, this is going to be an all-day thing.” He could see the way Yuri watched his expression from the mirror as the gears started turning in his head, now realizing what that meant. The silence that settled in the room was painful. 
“But… but we had plans.” 
“I know we did, but—“ 
“But?! Yuri I told you weeks ago!” Jungkook retorted. He was angry now. He didn’t want to be angry.
“Weeks Yuri, weeks!” He continued, unable to process this was happening. There was no way she could have simply “forgotten” about the day they were supposed to spend together. He’d literally been talking about it since they both agreed to do this a few weeks ago.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He accused, confused how news like this would just go unsaid. 
“She just called me two days ago,” Yuri argued, as if that would make this any better. 
“Two days ago— and you didn’t say anything until now?” He was baffled. There was no excuse why she couldn’t have brought this up sooner. 
“Well— look how you’re reacting.” She scoffed and crossed her arms.
That just set him off even more.
“How I’m reacting, Yuri?! We talked about this for weeks; it’s the only thing I’ve been talking about for the past few days. I’m sorry that I was excited to spend the day with my wife.” Jungkook exploded at her. He was furious, and he didn’t like it. This wasn’t how this day was supposed to go. 
Yuri didn’t say anything but instead rolled her eyes.
“And you can’t just cancel?!” He finally asked, getting up and pacing around their shared room. 
“Jungkook, she's my friend! I haven’t seen her in a while and—“
“But what about me?!” He snapped. The words seemed to hang in the air, a painful silence following it. Jungkook noticed the look on her face, and he sighed as he sat down at the edge of the bed so he was facing her. He ran his hands through his hair and took a couple deep breaths to get himself to calm down.
“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that… it’s just… Yuri, we've been married for a year and a half and I feel like I hardly know you. I know this is technically only meant to be business, but I thought we said we’d try and make this work.” He cried as he grabbed a hold of her hands. He looked her directly in the eyes, wanting her to know that he meant every word. 
Was he really asking for too much?
“We’ve hardly gotten time together since our honeymoon. Our schedules are full, and I know that’s not our fault, but I just wanted some time alone with you even if it was only for a day.” He pleaded; the desperation was so evident in his voice. He felt pathetic. 
“We can do that any day. My friend will only be here for the next two weeks.” Yuri acknowledged before she turned back to her vanity. 
“And why can’t you just hang out another day?” He asked, defeat overtaking him and his efforts to convince her. There was no point really. It seemed she had already made up her mind.
“I said she’s leaving in two weeks. We only have a limited time to hang out before she’s catching a plane back to California. Besides, we can just do something after she leaves. We will have all the time in the world when she’s gone in two weeks.” Her words were punches straight to the heart. She always says that when she needs to cancel plans— that next week never comes. 
Her excuse was ridiculous, but this wasn’t the first time it had happened. He’s used to it now and knows there isn’t really any point in trying to negotiate. 
“Yuri, I have a business trip that week.” 
“Well what about the—“ she was cut off. 
“You have a shoot in Hawaii that week.” Jungkook just sighed and got back up to sit on his side of the bed. “We can just forget about it all together in that case.” He fumed as he flipped over, now too upset to even face her right now. 
Part of him was hoping she’d just say “Never mind, I’ll just reschedule,” jump in the bed and cuddle with him because she realized just how much this meant to him, to herself, and to them both as a couple. Everything would be fine and–
But no… Yuri just sat there, seemingly unaffected by the cancellation of their plans.
He began to think it was a little sad at how upset he was. Yuri didn’t care; maybe he truly had made this a bigger deal than it needed to be. She was right in some sense— they live together and can plan something any day of the year. 
But it still hurt that just for this one day, Yuri didn’t want to spend time with him. 
•────•──────────•────•
It did not get any better the next day. He woke up in a bad mood. She wasn’t even there in the morning. Everything just made him upset: Yuri’s cold, empty side of the bed, he forgot to turn off his alarm so he missed his opportunity to sleep in, and he nearly slipped in the shower as he was ranting to himself about how dumb this was. Their annoying, squeaky bedroom door that Jungkook’s been meaning to call someone about. Even the milk for his cereal pissed him off because he asked Yuri last night to pick up more while she was out but of course, she forgot, and he forgot to tell their cook about it thinking she’d get it, so he only had a little left for his breakfast this morning.
The last place he wanted to be was at their apartment so he left for work as soon as he was ready.
Jungkook took out his phone knowing he had some time to kill and he needed someone to rant to or else he was going to go crazy. A few minutes later, like the trusty friend he was, Jimin was bursting through the door like he was the Kool Aid man, ready to listen to all of Jungkook’s problems. 
“Ok, who’s ass do I need to kick?” Jimin came in, hands up, ready to fight– which might have been Jungkook’s fault with the ambiguous text he sent to his hyung. Saying “the world’s ending, need help now!” might have been a little too drastic, but it felt appropriate at the moment.
“Mine...” Jungkook groaned, his head was on the desk but he could hear Jimin’s footsteps hurrying over, before taking a seat in the chair in front of his desk. This was routine at this point.
The two of them had been friends for a number of years now. Jimin was two years older than Jungkook and had mainly been friends with his brother at first. But when Junghyeon left, apparently he decided he needed to leave his big brother duties to someone, and he thought who else would be a better fit to watch over him than Park Jimin? Those were Junghyeon’s words when Jungkook first mentioned that he was getting close to his old friend. Jimin occasionally checked up on him when he was still in high school, and their bond grew really strong soon after Jungkook had started college. Jimin became his guide as he navigated adult life and a very real friendship was born from his brother’s efforts. 
When Jimin graduated, it only felt natural for Jungkook to extend an invitation to work at his family’s company, knowing how good of an addition he would be to the team. As of about three and a half years ago, they’ve also been work buddies. 
“So,” Jimin stretched it out. “What is it this time?” He asked when Jungkook still hadn’t said anything. 
Silence followed.
“Is this about Yuri?” Jimin finally questioned, that being the most obvious, considering Jungkook shouldn’t even be in right now.
The younger man nodded. 
Jimin hummed as he thought about it for a second. “Ok, is this another rant about your sex life because I have some—“ 
“No, no, no, well… maybe, yes? I don’t know hyung, I'm just…” All Jungkook could do was sigh, his frustration getting to a boiling point again. 
“I’m guessing with the way you’re acting, things didn’t go as planned…?” Jimin asked wearily, knowing precisely what Jungkook had in store for today. He’d helped Jungkook plan it out. The first thing that was supposed to be on the itinerary was waking Yuri up with a good time. Jimin was the one to suggest it, but the fact he was in a bad mood was enough to let him know things hadn’t gone the way that they’d discussed. 
“The whole plan didn’t happen,” Jungkook lamented as he leaned back in his office chair. He could feel Jimin’s confusion without even having to look at him. “She canceled our whole day because of a friend visiting from the US.” He scowled and saying it out loud made it sound even more unreal. 
Jimin blinked a couple of times, obviously just as confused as he was. “A friend?” 
“It’s something she knew about two days ago before even bringing it up last night. It wasn’t even a full day before our plans!” At least he could’ve gotten a heads-up. He wasn’t sure what that would have done, but at least he could have had more time to cope with the disappointment.  
“What?” Jimin questioned in disbelief. 
“And maybe, maybe I’d get it if today was the only day they could hang out, but she said they’re going to be here for the next two weeks.” Jungkook was getting angry all over again. 
“I’m sorry, what?” Jimin repeated, honestly just baffled. 
“And! And when I asked her why they can’t just hang out the next day, she said it’s because they’re only here for a limited time and that we can just hang out whenever!” It didn’t make any sense that she would say that when Jungkook had to spend days working into the early hours of the morning trying to clear his schedule enough so that they could have some time together.  
“What the fuck…” Jimin looked just as confused as he felt. 
“I know, it’s ridiculous…” He trailed off with a laugh, but the pain from the sudden cancellation made it hard to even pretend this was anywhere near comical.
“Jungkook, I think that’s a lot more than ridiculous…” Jimin tried to reassure, his tone quickly turning sympathetic.
“I know we’re arranged, but I just… I thought being married would be more than this, you know?” He leaned back in his chair. Jungkook simply had dreams for his future and this wasn’t anything he pictured it would look like. 
“And there’s nothing wrong with that. You both agreed to try and she has never given you a reason why she’s practically avoiding you.” Jimin said, recounting the fact this wasn’t even the first time something like this has happened.
“I’m wondering if it’s me. Maybe I’m not doing enough or maybe I’m doing it all wrong? Right? It had to be something I did.” Jungkook tried to rack his brain, thinking of anything he did that might have made Yuri so upset at him.
“I don’t think it’s your fault. You’re trying your best. It doesn’t make sense to me why she did this. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone, but I don’t know… maybe she wants her space.” Jimin suggested, it being the only explanation he could come up with to make sense of her behavior. 
The words sat in the air for a second, a painful second, like the wrong note reverberating at the end of a musical piece. Jimin didn’t notice the shift fast enough before Jungkook suddenly sat up to look at him, and his brows were furrowed like what he said was crazy. 
“Space? We have space all the time, this was the one day I wanted us to be a couple— or at least try and be a couple.” Jungkook chided and Jimin immediately knew he didn’t phrase that in the best way.
“I meant it more so for yourself. I’ve seen and been in enough relationships, situationships, you name it, to know when to back away. Things are obviously going to be even more complicated because you’re in an arranged marriage. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but maybe taking a step back so you don’t get hurt is something to think about.” Jimin laid it out plainly, but Jungkook maintained his hard expression. If anything, he seemed even more displeased. 
“I have to make this work. I’m obviously not doing what she wants!” Jungkook seethed.
“We have no idea what’s going on. I’m just trying to stop you from getting hurt.” Jimin's gaze filled with sympathy, but Jungkook just seemed to grow more angered as he rolled his eyes at him. 
“Like you would understand— everyone wants to be around you.” Jungkook scoffed, turning away. 
Jimin sat there for a second, dumbfounded, wondering where that came from. 
“What are you talking about?”
“Everyone likes you! Everyone practically flocks to be around you. You have no trouble in relationships– yet I can’t even make the one woman I’m married to at least be comfortable by my side.” Jungkook cried out, and it was here that any anger that was threatening to boil over cooled the minute Jimin saw the wetness in his eyes.
Jimin had only been a bystander for the last few years in Jungkook’s life, but he could hardly comprehend this was the same man he’d been friends with for years now. 
Jungkook had gone from the guy who shied away from relationships, to suddenly being the only married man in his friend group.  
He could never forget the day that Jungkook came to his apartment late one night, it felt like forever ago now. Those were different times; they weren’t the same people anymore. His eyes had been wide and petrified, like he’d just seen a ghost. It practically took the whole night to get it out of him that apparently his parents had made some kind of deal and were basically forcing him to get married to solidify it. 
Jimin could hardly keep up after he’d finally managed to get him to speak, and a lot of it went over his head. To be honest he didn’t believe it even after Jungkook explained it over and over again. It didn’t sound real. Whose parents would make their twenty-two year old son get married without at least talking to him first? It didn’t make sense.
It also didn’t make any sense considering Jimin had been the listening ear to how well their three dates– yes only three dates– went before the engagement.
“They were ok.” Jungkook would sigh, before showing a picture of her and talking about how much he struggled to say anything because of how nervous she made him.  
In the months leading up to the marriage, Jungkook had eventually heard the details of the deal, and that’s when the mood started to shift. Jungkook’s protests grew quieter to the point the wedding day managed to come and go without any intervention. Jimin still didn’t believe it, even as he saw Jungkook stand at the end of the aisle, even as he watched them get pronounced husband and wife, even as he witnessed the contract getting stamped, and even as he helped Jungkook pack to move to their new shared apartment after they came back from their honeymoon.
It didn’t feel real, but Jimin tried to remain as optimistic as Jungkook appeared when he came back.
“We said we’d try.” Jungkook told him with a toothy grin. The honeymoon had been good apparently. 
But that optimism was short-lived and Jimin was forced to sit back and watch as something in his friend shifted. Things weren’t right in the relationship, that much he was sure of. Jungkook had finally said something towards the beginning of the year. It was small things at first, things Jungkook made sound like the typical lovers’ quarrel. But as time passed, it grew more vague, unusual, and desolate. It was never detailed enough for him to get the full picture, but he could see the way Jungkook was practically deteriorating right in front of him.
He had no idea what was going on, but it was moments like this that made his blood boil. Jungkook was normally a closed-off person. He didn’t share his problems with others easily. For him to come to Jimin to talk about his issues in his marriage made him wonder how bad the situation truly was. The alarm bells wouldn’t stop going off in his head. 
“Jungkook, what’s going on?” Jimin sat up and rubbed his friend’s back. Jungkook’s office was dark but when he lifted his head, Jimin could see that the tears had finally started running down his cheeks. 
“Hyung, it’s me right?! I don’t understand why she… w-why she…” He stammered. The words caused the emotions he’d bottled up to spill over, and the tears became uncontrollable. 
“I must be doing everything wrong, right? Am I really that bad? I just… I just wanted to spend some time together. Am I really that bad of a husband?! I try so fucking hard, I swear I do, I just— Hyung I don’t know what else to do…” Jungkook ranted, sounding so dejected. 
Jimin only felt the fire burn harder ​​while his brain worked to try and understand Yuri. He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, that there had to be some rational explanation that he just wasn’t seeing that would explain why every chance Jungkook made plans for them to be together, something had to get in the way. The only thing he could see was how much this affected Jungkook, and she was starting to piss him off. 
He got up and went behind Jungkook's desk so he could give him a hug, the younger man only sobbing even harder in his arms. Jimin didn’t say anything, instead ran slow, comforting circles over his back. 
Jimin couldn’t help but think that he needed to talk with Yuri. They weren’t close but hopefully they’ve met on enough occasions that he could have a comfortable conversation with her to at least get her side of the story. It would be the opportunity to try and get the chance to understand what was going on. Maybe then he could actually help Jungkook try and win her over.
The moment was interrupted by the blaring ring of the phone that sat on Jungkook’s desk, letting them know that Secretary Yu was calling. Jungkook quickly tried to wipe his eyes, doing his best to pull himself together, but Jimin stopped him in his tracks, already picking up the phone before he could object. 
“Hi Secretary Yu~” Jimin chirped, putting on that notorious charm that so easily put people at ease. “Yeah it’s Jimin, I’m taking over the phone for this one….. uh huh, right, wait but I thought— ohhhh, really…?… I see….. Yeah, I’ll let him know, he’s right next to me…. Nice talking with you…. bye.” Jimin frowned as soon as he put the phone down. 
“She said we have a meeting we need to go to. Apparently, finance has an emergency that we have to oversee.” His eyes remained trained on Jungkook as he grabbed some tissues, seemingly trying his best to switch back to boss mode. 
“Sorry, I probably look very pathetic right now,” Jungkook sadly chuckled as he wiped his eyes, but Jimin wasn’t having it. 
“Stop calling yourself pathetic. It’s alright. Cry as much as you need to,” Jimin attempted to reassure him when he noticed Jungkook’s lip still quivering. He looked like he was on the verge of another breakdown. “Don’t push yourself, we still have a few minutes before the meeting starts.” He tried to get Jungkook to slow down but he was already up and out of his chair.
“I’m fine… I just really needed that. This will be good, don't worry.” Part of Jungkook wondered if he was trying to convince Jimin or himself. 
He walked over to a mirror. “Are my eyes red?” Jungkook questioned, worried that it looked like he had been crying his eyes out. 
Jimin walked over and shook his head. “Just a little, but no one will notice unless they knew what you were doing.” 
He nodded, affirmed. “Ok, let’s do this.”
With that, Jungkook pushed through the door, passing Secretary Yu’s desk as she got up to join him, along with various higher up employees who had gotten the message about the meeting. 
Secretary Yu pulled out her tablet and moved a little closer. “Director Jeon, I just wanted to quickly give you a better brief of the situation before the meeting starts.”
“Go ahead…” Jungkook’s voice was shaky, but he hoped she didn’t notice.
“Production had encountered an unexpected issue. Good news is that it has been solved already so there’s no need to worry about it. The bad news is that we can’t use any of the inventory they made prior to the fix.” Secretary Yu tried to speak calmly but grimaced when she noticed the change in her boss’s demeanor.  
Jungkook’s eyes widened, and he stopped dead in his tracks. All the executives that were walking behind them came to a sudden halt along with him, making everyone nearly bump into each other. 
“Wait, what?! But production had been running for–” Jungkook didn’t need to finish that, already knowing the answer. It was far too long and their launch date was about a month away. 
This was bad. 
“What was the issue?” 
“I’m not sure yet—“ The ‘what’ didn’t really matter right now, all that meant was this launch was screwed. 
Launches were some of the most important moments of the year. The fact it had been slated for the last quarter of the year, the most important quarter for a company like theirs in turning up profit, they had been counting on it even more than normal. This put everything in jeopardy, particularly anything they had planned for next year. This line had already been delayed to the utmost limit because of numerous other complications so delaying it was almost entirely off the table. 
“Just great huh. Really fucking great. This day can’t get any worse can it—“ And he should have learned that words like that challenge the universe to see what other shit it could throw at you. 
They finally picked up their hurried pace to the meeting room, but right as Jungkook rounded the corner he collided with something hard and suddenly he was cold and soaking wet. Jungkook just stared down, his suit covered in what he could immediately smell was coffee. A sliver of luck for him was that it was iced, but that didn’t stop him from being covered in coffee— he could only imagine the stains on the beige fabric.
Part of him wanted to scream but as his eyes trailed up to see a woman frantically picking up the cup and her scared, apologetic eyes when she realized it was all over him, he found himself unable to speak. Jungkook immediately knew he had never seen you before; he would have remembered you. 
Your red blouse was tucked into your short pencil skirt, which perfectly fitted to your form. Your legs were long as you stood up, accentuated even more by your tall, black stilettos, and Jungkook couldn’t stop the way his eyes ran over the exposed skin. What seemed to hold his attention the most was your vibrant, red lipstick. For a second he was left a little dumbstruck and forgot about the coffee that was everywhere. You were beautiful, ridiculously beautiful, it was almost crazy. For a second he wondered why you were here and not walking down some runway or the face of every brand imaginable. 
He would have noted this a lot more if he didn’t have coffee soaking into his clothes. Right now he just saw you as another problem, making his day that much worse. It was one of his favorite suits too, he wore it to make himself feel a little better about today, but you… 
Things just can’t get any worse.
•────•──────────•────•
This can’t be real. 
It was your first day and all your worst fears seemed to be manifesting. You slept through your alarm, you missed your bus, and your much needed caffeine was all over this handsome stranger— though you really couldn’t say you saw that one coming. The embarrassment you felt creeping onto your cheeks in front of all the people staring at you in the hallway was enough to melt you into a puddle. Worst of all, your supervisor who was walking right next to you saw everything. 
It couldn’t get much worse.
“I’ll clean this up. I’m so sorry! I should have paid more attention to where I was going!” You panicked as you scrambled to find something to help fix this. You looked to your supervisor, but he seemed even more distressed than you for some reason. 
You finally turned back to the stranger and his gaze met your own for a brief moment. His eyes were wide and looked almost like a kicked puppy at how much sadness filled them for a split second. It really was only a second before you noticed the more expected glare of annoyance. 
“Just,” He sighed. “Clean this up, okay? Director Son, please tell the team I’ll be a bit late. Hyung, can you…?” Jimin quickly nodded before speeding away. 
Jungkook just walked past them, not bothering to acknowledge anyone any further. In truth, he was a second away from bursting into tears again, but they didn’t need to know that. Instead, he just hurried off to the bathroom and waited for Jimin to bring the spare suit he kept for emergencies such as these. 
It seemed things could get worse.
Your eyes were wide as you watched him swiftly walk past you, not even bothering to look at you. You knew he had every right to be upset, but he was a bit rude. It was clearly an accident and he didn’t even give you time to apologize properly. 
“Yah, what’s up with that guy?” You mumbled. His annoyance had been a disease and it was quickly spreading.
“That guy?! Y/n do you know what you just did?!” Your new boss was clearly exasperated and that just made you a little confused. It was then you noticed everyone who was still in the hallway had their eyes on you, their hands were over their mouths, and they all had this look of horror on their faces like you had just committed the worst crime imaginable. 
“Who was that…?” You finally questioned, your heart already beating out of your chest.
“I swear you’re going to get us both fired and you only just got here. I swear…” Director Son rubbed his temples and cursed silently to himself, a look of worry speedily etched its way into his features. 
“Director Son, what did I just do?” You asked, growing even more anxious. He finally turned to face you. 
“Y/n, that was Jeon Jungkook.”
You still looked confused and this made him laugh— a worried, nervous laugh that made you know you had royally fucked up.
“You just spilled coffee all over the CEO’s son.” He put it plainly. It was only then that the pieces of the puzzle came together and started to make sense. 
What….have…you……done?
“That’s my boss, your boss, everyone who works on this floor’s boss.” The words only seemed to set the reality into both of you. 
“We’re going to have to pray. Get on our hands and knees, beg for forgiveness, and hope he doesn’t fire us or tell his father.” Suddenly, Director Son sprinted to the office area and returned with a bunch of napkins. 
“We have to see him in the meeting too. What am I going to do?” Director Son said with apprehension, throwing his hands up in the air. He already had so much bad news to deliver and now his newest employee had spilled coffee all over his boss. 
He was fired for sure. 
You hurriedly went to help him start cleaning up the coffee, but you were barely paying attention. You were just dazed because, at this point, you were convinced you were about to get fired on your first day. 
Suddenly, someone else was coming up beside you. “What a great entrance, huh?” A deep voice chuckled as he put more napkins on the ground. 
“It’s only my first day and I’m already ruining everything.” You huffed, getting the feeling you wouldn’t be here much longer. 
“You have to admit it was pretty funny~” 
You stopped. “No, it wasn’t. Do you know how humiliating that was?!” You finally turned to see yet another handsome stranger, but this time this guy had a warm, welcoming, boxy smile on his face. 
“I do, but it made my day better. Nice to meet you, I’m Kim Taehyung!” He stretched out his hand. 
You smiled weakly, feeling better that someone could laugh about this. “I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you Taehyung.” You said as you quickly shook his hand.
•────•──────────•────•
Jimin burst through the doors, emergency suit already in hand.
“You alright?” Jimin questioned as he set the suit on the counter. 
Jungkook turned toward him, clearly teary-eyed. He shook his head. “I just want to go home.” He tried to laugh as he started unbuttoning his shirt. He would have been better off not coming in today.
“Maybe you should. Today just doesn’t seem to be your day, huh?” Jimin tried to joke and smiled when he saw Jungkook chuckle. 
“I have meetings later though. I have to stay till then.” He just sighed. Jungkook had already felt guilty about leaving and hardly being at work today because of his plans with Yuri, but going home right now seemed selfish considering the dire situation. He didn’t want people to think he was running away and leaving them to deal with this mess alone. It’s not like he had anyone waiting for him back home anyway. There was no need to rush anymore.
Jungkook spent most of his time at the office more than at home. He wanted to show that he was working hard, it was something he knew was essential to gaining everyone’s trust. Since he was still pretty young, people often doubted his leadership, but he earned his spot in the company just like everyone else did. Jungkook had been working here since he was nineteen, interned even longer, and started off at the bottom like everyone else. He didn’t want to be the spoiled, rich kid inheriting the company simply because his father is the CEO. He wanted to make sure that by the time he became CEO he would have built up the same respect that the rest of the employees held for his dad. 
As a result, leaving earlier or taking days off was something he tried to steer clear of as much as possible, but today… things just weren’t working out. He feared that being here any longer might make him explode. 
Once they figure out this whole situation, he’ll immediately go home after his last two meetings are over. Right, that was the smart thing to do. He couldn’t risk having a breakdown in front of everyone. 
“Hyung…” Jungkook said suddenly after he managed to get his pants up. Jimin hummed. “Thanks for being here with me.” His voice wavered slightly.
“Of course, I’ll always be here when you need me.” Jimin said softly. Jungkook was extra sensitive today. He usually was able to reserve the waterworks for sad movies or when he was alone in the apartment, but today he couldn’t seem to keep his emotions at bay. 
When they both came out of the bathroom, Jungkook and Jimin hurried to the meeting room ready to assess the current crisis at hand. Everyone was already in their seats when they walked in, and upon seeing Jungkook, they scrambled out their chairs to stand up and bow. 
Jungkook took a seat at the head of the table and Jimin in the seat to his left. Director Son was already standing at the pedestal in the corner of the room with a gloomy expression practically carved into his features. This was probably even worse than what he was told, judging by the solemn tone of the room. 
He was antsy to hear just how bad it was, and was about to tell Director Son to continue, when he spotted you at the end of the table. 
“Director Son,” Jungkook said, curiosity peaking. He knew pretty much everyone who worked on this floor, but you were definitely not familiar. 
“Who’s she?” He pointed directly at you, making your attention turn toward him. 
Director Son scrambled from behind the pedestal, realizing he had forgotten to introduce you because of the incident earlier. 
“My apologies, sir.” Director Son addressed Jungkook before turning towards you and motioning for you to stand. You quickly bounced on your heels, not wanting to piss him off even more. If Jungkook didn’t fire you, surely he would. 
“Everyone, this is L/n Y/n. She’s our newest member of our financial team. It’s her first day here.” Everyone gave you strange looks as most people here at this table had witnessed the incident earlier.
It’s like you made the worst first impression you possibly could have. 
The silence was deafening as everyone stared; you were tempted to run away, fake your death, get a new identity, and attempt to start your life over knowing things couldn’t get much worse than this. It took a moment, but eventually Taehyung, who sat right beside you, started clapping— slowly but surely everyone joined him. You looked down and smiled, mouthing him a thank you before you sat down. 
Your eyes flickered over to Jungkook who was still staring at you. Your skin warmed as his gaze bored into you. 
“Thank you, you may begin.” Jungkook finally said, leaning back in his chair. 
A new line of products was supposed to be released shortly before the holiday season— namely a new line of TVs that had already been delayed multiple times, all for various reasons during development. They had been forced to push the date back as far as possible, right to the point before there would start to be major repercussions. Production had promised that they would be able to meet this new date, and production began a few weeks ago. Jungkook had thought the most troubling stage was over and the only thing that was left was handling this launch with the marketing team now. But a malfunction that was only realized this morning had been noticed, and all of the inventory they had managed to produce before today was completely unusable.  
To make matters worse, the date they needed to have everything shipped out by was too close to have the now scarce inventory hit even the low range of their planned profit margin. It was a disaster and after Director Son explained the issue, Jungkook was ready to pull out his hair. Of course this had to happen today, of all the fucking days everything just had to go wrong. He couldn’t even think straight as everyone around the table started suggesting ideas, too busy trying to pull himself out of the funk that made him practically useless. He was convinced he was cursed, that had to be it because how does this all happen in one day?
This fuck up jeopardized everything— it was their biggest source of profit for the year and they thought they’d be able to make up for all the delays by having it at such an important part of the year. They already decided to invest extra in advertising to help boost sales far beyond what they’d traditionally expect. Now without the numbers they had planned for, the profit they had wanted to reach was virtually impossible. This was detrimental to next quarters budget and especially the following year. Any plans, projects, anything they had planned was now at risk, and— 
The meeting ended up going on for quite a while. Everyone panicked as they tried brainstorming ideas that could be used to rectify the situation: 
Some suggested seeing if they could push the launch back, but at this point that was even more disastrous than just releasing whatever they can manage to get done. Others suggested that this fell on production and that they should use intimidation to try and make the numbers get as close to what was planned. Jungkook normally was against ideas like that, but it was mind boggling how poorly these products had been handled so far. He had already been planning to meet with the executives over at the factories to figure out who he needed to hold liable for this. Others went on about distribution, how their department who handled Seoul, should be prioritized and that they should focus on the bigger stores, such as malls, in order to hopefully increase the chances of selling everything they could to at least get the highest profit they can. It went on and on. Another radical suggestion was increasing the price of the line of TVs to try and force a similar profit margin.  
People just kept going and going and Jungkook was ready to bang his head against the table to hopefully get himself to wake up from this nightmare. Everyone was so loud as they bickered and fought that their way was better, and he tried his best to suppress wanting to just scream for them to just shut up and walk away from the situation all together. He was overwhelmed and it was even worse that he felt unhelpful, all efforts went to keeping himself firmly planted in his chair and not letting the tears spill over again.
What ended up surprising him was that it was you who came up with the best solution. In between all the nonsense, you were also very vocal during the meeting. You were knowledgeable as you spoke, asking questions any time you could and also giving your two-sense on the suggestions the rest of the team kept spewing out. Most of your takes he found himself easily agreeing with as you countered how none of those ideas worked. If Jungkook hadn’t encountered you before, he wouldn’t have guessed you were the same clumsy woman who spilled coffee on him earlier today. It was absolutely shocking considering the fact that today was your first day and you had only been briefly filled in on the situation. 
Eventually though you had given your own opinion and one that stood out from the masses.
“Do nothing.” You had put it so simply. You argued that there was nothing that could be done and instead that they should just send out the inventory they created after today, though less of it, as planned and capitalize on the opportunity to create even more demand for the line. If production could get their shit together and deliver the product as promised, plus with the added reputation of the company, they should certainly sell, and sell quickly. While this would not prove fruitful immediately, during the time they would work on getting the next shipment together, this would create a demand that would hopefully be able to make up for any losses encountered during the launch.  
It wasn’t the best considering what they had thought this new launch would bring, but it was the best idea he heard all afternoon, and the one he ultimately picked they should explore further. The team first had to crunch the numbers to make sure they could afford that type of risk, but at the moment, waiting, letting the scarcity create demand, and gently still pushing the production team to try and get the inventory as high as possible, was what he sent everyone away with in mind.  
Jungkook wanted to hate you, you had basically ruined his favorite suit, but seeing you in this meeting had him momentarily forgetting about the incident in the hallway. He never really considered firing you. Despite being incredibly petty about the suit, he didn’t want to take his anger out on you or Director Son. This meeting just made him realize how great of an addition you would likely be for the team. If this was your first day and you had already managed to help work out a crisis, he could only imagine what you would do for the team’s future. 
But today just wasn’t the day he could forgive you completely. 
Thanks to you he was able to go home around the time he had planned. Since the entire financial team was there, they were quickly able to cover the points of their original meeting that was scheduled, and he ran off directly afterward to meet with Director Cho in his office for a discussion about marketing. It was still in the afternoon by the time he got back to the apartment. Part of him hoped he would find Yuri waiting for him with open arms, and they would leave together to start their day as he had planned. 
It was wishful thinking, but that didn’t stop the disappointment from burning his heart when he came back to find it exactly how he had expected.
Empty.
Jungkook sighed and kicked off his shoes. Today was horrible. 
He was about to head straight for the beer they kept in the fridge, but the various ingredients he found inside gave him an idea. If he didn’t try at all, how would he ever make this work? As much as Yuri hurt his feelings, he would still put on a happy face and be a good husband. 
He got straight to work, tying up his apron and rolling up his sleeves. 
Jungkook first contemplated what should make, and he decided pretty quickly once he double-checked what they had. Then he moved on to pulling out all the ingredients and putting them onto the counter. 
He wasn’t a master chef or anything, Jungkook had hardly cooked for himself his entire life— his parents always had a chef to prepare their meals. It was when he moved out that he realized how much he enjoyed it. It wasn’t too often that he cooked, but when he did, it always brought him so much satisfaction knowing he made it. Not to brag, but despite his lack of experience, Jungkook could easily follow a recipe and turn out with something pretty decent at the end. 
He decided to go with gimbap— it was relatively easy to make and increased his chances of not messing it up. By the time he had the rolls cut and ready on the plate, the sun had gone down.
Jungkook smiled as he looked at his creation. It was a little misshapen and the ingredients were spilling out from the sides, but he had high hopes on how it’d taste; he’d thrown in all of his favorite ingredients. It was cute and showed it was made by his own hands. He hoped this would be enough for them to at least spend a little time together when she got home. 
He sent her a quick text telling her about a ‘little surprise’ waiting for her at the apartment and to hurry home as soon as she could. He even added a heart at the end, a sign of peace, so they could put what the day could have been behind them and move on to shaping what they could make of it now.
Jungkook let out a satisfied sigh before taking off his apron, grabbing one of the nicer containers they owned, placing the food inside, and setting it on the dining table ready to be eaten whenever Yuri came back. 
He hoped this would be enough to get her to come home soon. 
He changed into more relaxing clothes and headed straight to the couch, deciding to continue that show he had started a little while back. He hadn’t planned to be here long; for some reason, he pictured Yuri bursting through the doors at any second, but he should have known he would end up disappointed yet again.
After more time passed, Jungkook eventually pulled out his ice cream and the beer he’d promised himself not to go for. 
He was depressed. It was worse than when he was in his office earlier. He wanted home to be his escape from the day he had, but it only made the problem worse just like he feared. All he could do was drown out his darkening thoughts with comfort cream and beer. 
Even more time passed by and there was still no Yuri. At this point, Jungkook had to call Jimin knowing he couldn’t be alone right now. He was on the verge of another breakdown. 
True to his nature, his hyung was at their apartment in no time. 
Jimin’s face fell the minute Jungkook opened the door. His friend looked even worse than when he left the office, his eyes were lifeless behind the smile he tried to show. It hurt even worse when he noticed the uneaten dinner on the dining table. He could see Jungkook had pulled out all the fancy candles, plates, and silverware, but they remained untouched; clearly, he was waiting. 
“Sorry I called you so late… I just didn't want to be alone right now.” It was more than that, and Jimin knew it. 
In truth, the thoughts that seemed to keep echoing in his head worried him. Not even his favorite movie could take his attention away from the harsh realization of what he was facing right now. He knew not even Yuri coming home at that very moment would solve everything. He just needed someone to talk to, someone to distract him from his thoughts.
Jimin pulled him into a hug before guiding them inside. They both ended up sharing a few beers together, Jungkook venting nearly the entire time. It was good and played as the much needed therapy he wanted. 
It was well into the night that after a few crying sessions and more beers, Jungkook was tipsy and better enough to send Jimin away. 
It was late, really, really late. 
He sent a few more texts to Yuri, now starting to get worried. None of them were answered.
The only thing that kept him sane was the fact that this wasn’t the first time it’s happened. She’d ghosted him before, leading Jungkook to nearly have a panic attack before she came back, claiming her phone had died. He just hoped maybe that’s what happened today. 
More time passed by and his eyes started getting heavy as he continued to stare at his TV. He probably would have fallen asleep if it wasn’t for the sound of beeps from someone putting in the passcode for the door. 
Jungkook sprung off of the couch as the door opened to reveal the girl he’d been wanting to see the entire day. Yuri slowly closed the door behind her, probably thinking he was asleep. All the lights were off except for the TV. 
“Yuri?” He asked hesitantly, a bit scared he was dreaming. 
She quickly turned around as soon as she heard his voice. 
Part of him was tempted to yell, even scream at her for abandoning him the way she did, but he was in no mood to pick a fight. Instead, he steadily waddled over to the front door where she was standing, careful not to bump into any furniture but the room had started to spin.
Jungkook was a bit stunned when he noticed her outfit. It was dark, but he could still see she was wearing this short, little red dress that seemed to sparkle even in the darkness. He had a feeling that she and this mysterious “friend from the US” had probably gone out to a club. He didn’t even feel like interrogating her. Nope, instead he finally made his way over, wrapped his arms around her frame, buried his face into her shoulder, and bathed in her warmth. 
Maybe he was a little more than tipsy…
“Missed you so much…” he whispered quietly into her skin as he placed gentle kisses on her shoulder, the slur in his words even noticeable to his ears. 
Jungkook felt her arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, a wave of excitement that he’d been missing all day washed over him. 
“Did you really?” She lulled like a siren’s song, leading him down a path to forget everything that happened. He wanted to say something, but being drunk left him unable to form any cohesive thoughts to convey his feelings; the hurt he felt being abandoned, how much had he wished he spent this entire day running around Seoul with her by his side, how much had he hoped she would just come home so they could, at the very least, share a meal together. All of these moments, memories, time, and energy wasted.
But he didn’t want to turn this into another fight, instead he just nodded into her skin. “So fucking much.” It was a little more crude than the romantic declaration he was going for, but it didn’t matter. He meant what he said, he really did miss her. 
Yuri hummed lightly into his ear, and he couldn't stop himself from pressing her against the wall, pulling back slightly so they were eye to eye, and resting his forehead against hers. Her presence was intoxicating, in a way that made all the worries so easily wash away. He was supposed to be mad, he had every right to be, but for some reason that didn’t stop his hand from coming up and his thumb gently caressing her cheek; so soft and warm.
He was definitely more than a little drunk at this point. Not to the point he was confused where he was, but he was faded enough to be wobbly on his feet, and the liquid courage was certainly flowing through his system to make him bolder than usual.
A moment passed, one that if he was more sober, he would have thought through more. Did he want this? Should he turn back? But whatever he felt in the past, it didn’t really matter anymore. His wife was here now, he should be happy. 
If he was questioning it anymore, the look in her eyes was enough for that seesaw to finally land. It was sultry, like she wanted him to forget and he wanted to as well. 
Jungkook felt the rush surge faster than any rational thought could stop, his lips were on hers in a haste to finally feel her. It was slow at first, Jungkook wanting her to know just how much he wanted her to be here with him. It made him feel so warm, the affection he’d been craving for all day was finally happening.
He couldn’t stop himself from pushing her further into the door and picking up the pace. It all happened so fast.
Suddenly his tongue was down her throat, he could taste the sweet alcohol she had probably drank, and with the fleeting reminder of the dress she was wearing as his hands ran up her thighs, an odd sense of possessiveness came over him. He had no idea who she was with, if this “friend from the US” even existed, but he had the odd feeling of making her remember exactly who she was to him. She was his wife, everyone, everywhere should know that. 
Jungkook hastily picked her up and put her on the kitchen counter that was closest to him. His hands roamed her sides, tracing every curve with a hunger and need that saw no end. Soft sighs of pleasure fell from her lips as his hips steadily rocked into hers, and he relished in any sound he was able to draw out of her. All he wanted to do was make her feel good, that’s all he ever wanted. Her hands gripped his shirt tightly and he wished for nothing more than for her to rip it off of him. His skin burned and pleaded for more. As much as he enjoyed kissing her like this, this wasn’t enough.
He couldn’t wait anymore. He picked her up again and led them over to their shared bedroom, he didn’t even bother turning on the lights as he gently laid her on their bed. Jungkook quickly slotted himself between her thighs and dived straight back to her lips. 
His mind felt fuzzy, maybe it was just because he was more drunk than what he thought, but as he ground himself into her clothed core, the sudden realization of everything hit him hard. 
They haven’t had sex in months, literal months since the last time he felt the warmth of her walls around him. They’ve done other things, but full-blown sex…
“Yuri… please….” He cried as his hand traveled under her dress to hover over her panties. Yuri quickly nodded and that was all he needed to lose his mind. 
He pulled her dress up and moved down so he was staring at her clothed core. 
He quickly pulled her panties down her legs before his face was buried between her thighs, and he was diving in for his rightful meal. Jungkook was good, using his tongue to work her clit and he had two fingers buried deep inside her, all the while he was practically fucking the mattress in a haste for any kind of friction. 
When he said they hadn’t had sex it was more so that Jungkook hadn’t been touched in months. Jungkook was a good husband, always there to take care of his wife when she wanted him. But she never let him take things further. This was just another running problem in their marriage. His sex life was pretty much nonexistent. He never wanted to be that guy, and especially with the fact that their marriage was relatively new and they were still getting to know each other, he knew sex was going to be a tricky subject. 
There were clear boundaries set, and he was okay with taking things slow right now, but does it leave him frustrated sometimes? Yes, extremely. 
The amount of times Jungkook has done this for her, he knew her patterns and how to get her cumming on his tongue in no time. Her moans and pleas were all music to his ears, knowing he was doing something right for once. 
By the time he pulled away, Jungkook was hardly keeping it together. He practically ripped off his shirt and pants, tossing them off the bed somewhere into the abyss of the darkness. 
When he turned back to her, he was practically drooling at how fucked out she looked; Yuri’s hair cascaded around her, reminding him of the angel she looked like on their wedding day, and her dress was pushed up to her thighs and the straps were brought down revealing her tits. 
Oh fuck. Now, now, now. 
Jungkook hurriedly kissed her, before reaching over to his nightstand, and opening the drawer to grab a condom. The box wasn’t right there so his hand had to search and feel his way around— it didn’t take long, but it was too long in his desperation when he was finally pulling one out.  
“Jungkook, wait… what are you doing?” Yuri asked once he finally managed to pull one out of the box. 
He looked at her hoping this didn’t mean what he thought it did. He kissed her again and buried himself into her shoulder. “Baby please… wanna feel you…” he pleaded, grinding slowly into her heat. A moan fell from his lips, the friction was desperately needed. He would take anything at this point. 
“Been so long… I missed you.” It was bad. His body was crying out for something, and he wanted Yuri to give him just that. It was starting to hurt. 
“But it’s late, Jungkook. I’m tired.” Yuri sighed, making his heart drop. 
“But…but…” he mumbled. He moved so he could see her face and he could immediately tell she wasn’t joking. 
“It’s fine, I promise I’ll be quick. You worked me up so much, just—“ 
“Jungkook, not tonight, okay?” She grumbled, clearly done with the moment they shared. This is what happens all the time. He didn’t know why he thought it was going to be different considering the occasion, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a bit disappointed. 
Jungkook just sighed and rolled off of her. His skin burned with need and he knew he had to do something. It hurt, it had been so fucking long.
He tried not to be mad but he was. He hurriedly got up from the bed. 
“I’m going to take a shower… a very long shower.” He huffed.
“Jungkook you better not do that shit in our—“ was the last thing he heard before he slammed the door. 
He tried to be calm; he didn’t want to get mad over something like this. The marriage was still new, there were going to be hurdles. It happens. 
Today had just been terrible. All the emotions he had tried his best to suppress were coming out; he was angry, he was depressed, he was frustrated. There hadn’t been one moment that he felt like things were okay, today had been just as horrible as he thought it would be and then some since he woke up this morning.
All he wanted was some type of relief. 
He quickly turned on the shower to hopefully stop her from hearing him, and got to work pleasing his body in the only way he could. His hand covered his mouth while the other traveled down his body, finally grabbing a hold of himself. 
He thought about how today would have turned out if it went the way he wanted. Jungkook would have woken his wife up with every affirmation of how much he loved her, how happy she’d made him since they got married, as he showered her with all the praise his mushy heart would come up with in that moment. 
Jungkook wouldn’t have wanted to leave her that morning, but duty calls and with the taste of her still on his tongue he would have gone to work. It was hard to be apart for those few hours. He would have struggled to keep his eyes off his phone as she cutely texted and pleaded for him to be home soon because she missed him so much.
The minute he would have returned Jungkook could hardly get inside before she was tackling him with kisses. She would have been already dressed for their day out, wearing that pretty off-the-shoulder dress with flowers all over it, knowing how much that one drives him crazy. But none of that mattered because the dress was hitting the floor before he could close the door behind him.
Another moment of passion and love as they did it right there on the floor. Jungkook would have been enthralled by her warmth and her love. She would have let her heart’s declarations spill from her mouth continuously as he held her in his arms; that she wanted him here, that she cared for him just as much as he did for her. 
Then they were finally able to pull away from each other. It was just long enough that Jungkook could whisk her around Seoul to all the destinations he’d planned to take her. They’ve both lived in Seoul for most of their lives but Jungkook made sure to pick obscure but momentous places around the city that he was sure she’d enjoy:
 A jazz lounge for a late lunch, he’d seen videos of the band that played there and he knew it would have been perfect to have in the background as they conversed. He also planned to take her to the mall– one of her favorite spots to go with her friends. He hoped to share some of that excitement and treat her to whatever she stumbled across that day, showing his wife just how much she means to him. He had pictured holding the bags while she dragged him along to wherever she wanted to go, sitting down for hours as she tried out dresses and him struggling to convey that he really meant it when he said she looked beautiful in whatever she put on. There was so much more, a day full of wonders, kisses, hugs. But the night would have ended with a nice, romantic walk by Han River, enjoying the sights and scenery in the cool September air. They would have hopefully gotten the chance to stop by this dessert place Secretary Yu told him about that she promised Yuri would love. Maybe they would have kept walking as they ate and talked their hearts out. Jungkook had practiced all these cheesy lines he hoped she would have liked, at least laugh at, anything to see her smile. 
It would have been magical and when they would have made it back to the apartment, they would’ve immediately gone back to the room to end the night with a bang. She would have felt so good, he knew she would. He probably would have lost his mind just having his wife close and by his side. His heart would have melted every time she would look into his eyes. Her hands on him, pleading, pleading for him to make her feel good. 
No, maybe… maybe even in this reality, the one where he had a horrible day, even then it would have been so nice to be with her. That’s all he wanted.
He whined and whimpered as his thumb traced along the tip, precum leaking profusely. His hand made quick work of its strokes, hastily trying to chase the pleasure he’d been denied of the whole day. 
He had to resist the urge to scream when he ended up spilling all over his hand, stomach, and thighs. It had been way too long. 
Jungkook ended up in the shower not too long after, the water cool against his skin to keep the burning desire for more at bay. Instead, he just thought about his day, how shitty it was. 
Like of all days, he got coffee spilled all over him? It sounded like something out of a sitcom.
But you… 
Suddenly he thought back to you, your long legs and red lipstick. You were definitely one of his saving graces. Without you, he would have been stuck worrying about this launch. That wasn’t completely alleviated, but the team had texted throughout the day that your method had looked promising, and especially considering what they already invested into advertising, the wave of demand would hopefully nearly double by the time the next shipment rolled out. Though it wasn’t going to be exactly the profit they had expected to bring in from this quarter, this method should hopefully in the long run make up for the botched launch.
Without you he might have still been at the office, the teams and him trying his best to come up with some sort of solution in dealing with the consequences and ramifications of such an unexpected fuck up. It was still odd that it had been weeks since production started, and they had only noticed this malfunction now…  
He needed to head down to the factories and see for himself what exactly happened, but he already had a few names in mind of people who might not be here for much longer.
But he wouldn’t worry about that now, instead his mind drifted back to you during the meeting today.
He already knew working with you was going to be interesting, and despite the rough start, he was looking forward to seeing where you might go. 
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neptuneiris · 6 months
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could you pretend to be in love? (06/10)
The Connection
pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)
summary: an unexpected person from the past shows up and there is a family dinner to attend, resulting in disastrous thoughts and difficult decisions.
word count: 8.9k
previous part • next chapter • series masterlist
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the chapter is finally here!
sorry it took me so long, if you didn't see my last post go do it and you'll know why👀 but we can put it behind us now and I'm excited to tell you that the next chapter will finally give us that next level we've been waiting for so long!
I really hope it won't take me that long but for now, let's enjoy this new chapter and as always, I'll be very anxious to read your comments🥰
enjoy!
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The day of the dinner is slowly approaching.
And you still don't feel completely sure about it. However, despite your doubts and worries, you haven't backed out.
Mostly you think about what you're going to tell Aemond's mother by way of ruining things out of nervousness. Of course he should have already given her information about the relationship, but you're worried that she'll ask you questions and you won't know how to answer.
But that's not the reason she wants to get to know you… is it?
You think she probably just wants to know more about you, your likings, your non likings, your aspirations in life, your dreams, your family and things related to that.
Right?
You just hope so.
You've never done this before, meeting a guy's parents, ever. And you just get more nervous and feel more pressure knowing that Aegon and Helaena will be there too.
As well as you also feel guilty about the fact that they all think that you and Aemond are for real and you're just going to go there and convince them and assure them that you and Aemond are crazy about each other… when it's not true.
Now it's Thursday, tomorrow is dinner and Aemond doesn't seem at all concerned about it, when your thoughts are being completely tormented with it.
Still, you listen attentively to his words as you put away some books in your locker and he's standing next to you, leaning against the lockers, with the Romeo and Juliet book in his hands.
"Why did you make me read this shit? It's too hard to read and I don't like it," he says longingly.
You look away from your books to him and place a small amused smile on your lips at the sight of his face.
"It's like poetry and I don't like poetry, I don't understand it," he says frustrated, "I don't understand any of the weird rhyming they say."
"Well, Shakespeare has a unique way of expressing himself."
"Yeah, but what does he mean by 'My lips, two humble blazons, are ready to seal with a kiss softly'?" he recites reading the phrase with his brows furrowed and you let out a small laugh.
"Shakespeare loved beauty in words, even if it meant complicating things a bit."
"Yeah but why can't he just kiss her and be done with it without saying these weird words that give me cringe?"
"Come on," you give him an incredulous look, "It's romantic. The whole book is romantic with a tragic ending."
"This is definitely not romantic," he says incredulously and shaking his head, "It's weird, boring and makes me want to puke."
You look at him with a pout.
"You're not romantic at all."
"Excuse me?"
He immediately comes to defend himself, staring at you incredulously and completely indignant.
"I can be extremely romantic, thank you very much."
You raise your hands in a gesture of surrender, with a small smile as you see the spark of amusement in his gaze.
"You of all people should know that, you've witnessed it and you're the reason I do it mostly," he adds.
"But that's not… you know," you give him an expectant, knowing look.
"It's still romantic."
"No, it's not," you say with a laugh.
At your playful response, still busy at your locker, you don't notice and Aemond suddenly approaches. He takes your chin with one of his hands gently but firmly enough, causing you to look up at him, catching you off guard.
"What did you just say, my love?" he asks with a mischievous smile and amusement in his gaze, appearing serious and warning.
He brings his face closer to yours with a demanding gaze and your heart begins to pound as you let yourself be carried away by his proximity.
It is clear that he is going to kiss you, what does this mean if not kiss you? So you watch him expectantly and with your face lifted towards him, really looking forward to the sweet contact, your lips inches from his.
But first Aemond looks around briefly, wanting to make sure that some students in the hallway are watching you. When then, you see that he is overlooking a specific spot in the hallway.
You see how there is a slight glint in his eye and then he no longer moves.
You frown slightly, waiting. And before you can say or do anything, Aemond suddenly pulls away.
Confusion overtakes you and he clears his throat by averting his gaze, then smiles softly at you as if he wasn't about to kiss you seconds ago.
"Then I'll be more romantic next time," he says, taking his distance from you, as if trying to minimize the tense moment you've just shared.
Was he going to kiss you or not?
You can't just tell him to kiss you either, that he was going to, since this isn't real but… the change in his behavior confuses you, you don't quite understand what just happened and you don't know what to say.
"I have to go to the field now," he tells you, averting his gaze for a moment before looking at you again, "I'll see you in class, okay?"
"Hum… yeah, yeah, okay," you nod, still confused.
He gives you one last smile and before leaving, he gives your shoulder a light squeeze with his hand, another gesture that catches you off guard. Without a kiss on your forehead or cheek, as he usually does, he walks away.
You stand in the hallway, watching him go, with a mix of emotions you can't help but feel confused, uncertain and... disappointed.
Questions swirl around in your mind, but you don't have any answers. So shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you close your locker door and head to your next class.
Eventually you continue to run into him and he acts normal, as usual. He sits next to you in class, does the teacher's requested activities with you, and walks with you through the halls to the next class.
And everything is…normal, in a way.
Although he's still being kind and attentive, he's not being as affectionate as usual.
You can see how he's distracted, deep in thought from time to time, something is on his mind, something that you have no idea what it is but that keeps you alert, confused and makes you feel completely different from previous days.
You sense that the dynamic between you today has changed somehow, leaving you feeling bewildered.
And you don't know why.
Although it's not until break time that you find yourself sitting at a table alone, still feeling this awkwardness, when Alysanne comes in and drops the big bombshell on you that makes all the sense in the world.
"Why are you here eating so casually when I just saw your boyfriend catching up with his other ex-girlfriend?"
You raise your gaze to her almost instantly, with a mixture of surprise and confusion, a knot forming in your stomach as the weight of her words settle on your shoulders.
"What?"
"Yeah, Floris Baratheon," she says, then looks at you slightly confused, "How did you not know this?"
"What?" you repeat, not understanding.
"Floris Baratheon," she repeats to you slowly and clearly, "Dark hair, not as tall and certainly not as bitchy as Alys but still she falls into the category of girls who are superficial and think they are better than other girls," she explains to you.
Confusion lingers in your gaze, for despite the explanation, you still don't remember anything about a girl named Floris Baratheon at school.
"You really don't know who she is? Aemond didn't tell you about her?" asks Alysanne incredulously and your face answers her questions, "She transferred schools for a semester and just returned this morning. She and Aemond weren't actually dating but they had a thing when he and Alys broke up for like the twelfth time."
Your mind whirls as you process the information.
Honestly you had no idea about Floris' existence back in your invisibility days at school. Therefore, you also had no idea that she and Aemond had ever had any kind of relationship.
However… there is something you have an idea of at the moment.
This is why Aemond acted weird with you this morning, because of her. He must have seen her in the hallway and his demeanor changed completely.
"I-I didn't know that," you admit in a soft, low voice, trying to hide the uneasiness that is starting to creep up on you.
"Well, it's weird that Aemond didn't tell you anything, especially since I saw the two of them so comfortable and happy talking," she lets you know, "And I'm not telling you this with any malice or to make you feel bad, it's just that I think you should know, even though I thought you already knew."
You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling a surge of emotions wash over you that you can't quite explain, nor can you avoid.
You're not sure what to think or how to react to this, but one thing is for sure; things between you and Aemond are likely to get complicated.
But what can you really do?
You and he aren't really dating. What's the point of asking him about it when it's really none of your business? Besides if he didn't talk to you about it before, when he saw her, it must be for this very reason.
You have no right here, even if you feel this.
"Do you want to get out of here?" asks you Alysanne later, noticing your face and probably everything that is invading your mind.
And soon enough, she takes you to the rooftop of the school, outdoors, where you just sit and watch the sky and listen to her while she smokes a cigarette, talking to you about Cregan being around her lately.
But as much as you want to give her your full attention and corroborate what she is telling you, you can't.
The rest of the classes are without Aemond, since you don't share them with him, and when the school day ends, still not knowing exactly whether to wait for him to drive you home or not, you head for the exit of the building, deep in thought.
"Hey."
You feel a hand grab your shoulder and when you turn your head without stopping moving forward, you find Aemond standing next to you.
"Hi," you reply softly, turning your gaze back to the front.
And he at your side gives you an attentive, curious and slightly confused look.
"Are you okay? I didn't see you at break," he says softly, "I also texted you and you didn't respond."
"Oh," your mind goes blank for a moment, "I was with Alysanne on the roof. She was talking to me about some things."
"Hmm," he nods, still watching you between a mixture of attentive and curious.
Then the two of you say nothing more, with the silence loud between the two of you and that tension emanating from your body, when you speak again.
"Are you going to drive me home today?" you decide to ask him, watching him, with that hesitation in your tone of voice and look.
And he frowns, watching you blankly.
"I always drive you."
You are about to speak but a third voice does it for you, stopping your steps and also Aemond's.
"Aem!"
The two turn their heads and there she is, Floris Baratheon.
Black hair, brown eyes, slender and absolutely beautiful features. She approaches with a smile, showing off her perfect, aligned teeth.
Everything about her screams money, as well as elegance, from her perfectly coiffed hair to her impeccable designer clothes and accessories.
And the moment she catches both your attention and Aemond's, you notice how he beside you tenses slightly.
"Hey," she gives him a charming smile and her full attention, placing herself in front of him, "The guys are going to get something to eat, I was just told. Do you want to join us? We can take off in your car and catch up some more."
"Hum…" he is silent for a moment, shooting you a nervous glance, scratching the back of his neck.
And throwing you another glance, this finally catches Floris' attention and she notices your presence as well.
"Oh… hi," she smiles softly at you.
Despite your nerves and how uncomfortable you're starting to feel, you force yourself to smile as kindly and genuinely as possible.
"Hi."
"I'm sorry, I don't think I know you," she tells you in an exaggeratedly kind tone of voice.
And this too finally gets Aemond to react.
"Yeah, right, that's my fault," he says trying to act nonchalant and completely relaxed, "Floris, this is Y/N, m-my girlfriend."
You watch as she parts her lips and her surprise is evident as she looks at Aemond and then turns her attention back to you.
"I-I didn't find the moment to tell you."
You instantly observe Aemond, with a look that even you can't explain and he suddenly can't control his nervous gestures anymore, giving a wary glance to you and then to Floris.
"Oh."
She turns her gaze back to you and though she tries to hide her surprise, the strength of her smile seems a bit forced as she holds out her hand to you.
"I'm Floris, nice to meet you."
And within everything you're feeling right now, like awkwardness and feeling out of place, you still shake your hand with hers.
"Nice to meet you."
Tension is in the air and Aemond looks hesitant for a moment. And you continue to feel like an intruder between them, getting in between the interaction of two people sharing a history you don't fully know about.
When Aemond speaks again.
"Floris is my…
He tries to tell you, but his words are left floating in the air.
Suddenly you see how he struggles and searches his mind for a way to introduce you to the girl he had a thing with in the past, only according to him, you don't know that, when certainly Alysanne already took care of it.
And just like you, you too feel Floris' anticipation, waiting for him to introduce her.
"An old friend," he finally says.
Floris arches an eyebrow slightly at Aemond's introduction, her lips curving into a smile that seems to contain more than just politeness.
"Yes, that," she punctuates, with a knowing look that to you does not go unnoticed, "Well, I just wanted to know if you were free for this afternoon. Although if you want you can bring your girlfriend with us," she proposes.
Aemond takes a moment to respond, averting his gaze as he scratches the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.
And that's when you decide to speak.
"You can go with them," you tell him and that immediately gets his attention and hers, "I can just take the bus or something and I'll see you later," you say to start walking away from both of them.
His attention and slight surprise is most visible on his face, but before you can move too far away, he grabs your hand and advances towards you.
"What? No" he immediately inquires, "No, I'll take you home."
The determination in his tone of voice and in his gaze makes you feel a little more comforted, but still, you can't shake this uneasiness in you about Floris' presence.
And that's when Aemond turns to her again without letting go of your hand.
"Sorry Floris, another time," he tells her in his firmer, slightly strained voice.
And she nods with a sympathetic look, though you can't help but sense there's something else behind her expression.
"Of course, I understand, it'll be for next time then," she says, before turning to you, "It was nice meeting you, Y/N."
And finally she is the first to walk away.
You exchange a look you can't quite describe with Aemond and feel the awkwardness and seriousness linger between the two of you, even as the two of you leave the building and make your way to his car.
And once in the passenger seat and with Aemond driving through the city streets, you find yourself fiddling with your fingers in your lap, still feeling the awkwardness in the air.
You don't understand exactly what's got you right now but you can't even see Aemond out of the corner of your eye, so you keep your gaze focused straight ahead and on the side where the window is.
"Are you okay?"
You suddenly hear his voice speak softly to you, feeling his gaze on you from time to time and you squirm a little in your seat before you speak, swallowing hard.
"Yeah, all good," you say, trying to sound convincing.
He exhales deeply, noticing your distance again.
"I'm sorry if the Floris thing made you uncomfortable. S-she…" he sighs, "She's truly a childhood friend. We had something in the past but it was very brief and it's no longer relevant."
And although there is nothing wrong with his words, you still can't help but feel a slight knot in your stomach. And you act completely unconcerned.
"I understand," you say simply, in a soft voice and still without looking at him.
But this is not convincing to Aemond, who licks his lips and can't help but worry about the situation.
"I mean it."
"Aemond," you call him softly, finally looking at him, "I understand, I really do," you assure him, "I also meant it when I said you should go eat with her and your friends. You seemed very uncomfortable and there was no problem from me."
He nods slowly, but still looks a little uneasy.
"I just didn't expect I was going to see her again."
And you don't know if that's worse.
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"Are you ready?"
Oh God, are you?
"I don't know," you answer honestly, nervously, looking at your outfit.
For this occasion you chose a pair of pants, ankle boots and a white tank top with a black jacket over it. You don't look overdressed but decent for the occasion, along with your makeup and hairstyle.
"Hey, easy," he says softly, placing both hands on your shoulders, "It's going to be okay. Besides we won't be alone, Aegon and Hel will be with us."
"Yeah but that's not what I'm worried about," you clarify, playing with your fingers, "What if I ruin everything?" you ask watching him fearfully, "What if everyone realizes that we're not really dating because of me?"
"I'll take care of that, don't worry," he assures you, with his soft gaze, "You just have to corroborate everything I say and stick to the main story. Other than that, my mother will just ask you questions about you to get to know you better."
"Are you sure?" you ask, not entirely convinced.
"Very," he affirms you, conveying calmness and assurance in his voice.
"You've done this before?" you can't help but ask, still with some hesitation, "I mean…" you lick your lips, nervous, "You've brought a girl before to dinner with your family?"
He is silent for a moment, as if considering how to answer, as the implication is clear because that's not the real question, you know that too.
Rather it is: have you ever brought Alys to dinner with your family before?
"Yes," he finally admits in a murmur, sincerely, "Yes, I have."
You stare at him silently, without the two of you saying anything else, only to look away and nod, again trying to look unconcerned, trying to calm your nerves further.
"My mother never liked her," he says later, again attracting your attention, "You know, Alys."
Again, you say nothing for a few moments, just lick your lips and nod.
"I understand."
Aemond lets out a heavy breath and takes a step towards you, lowering one of his hands to take one of yours, gently rubbing his thumb against the back of yours, this also immediately catching your attention, as you see him looking at you for a moment thoughtfully.
"Are you ready now?" he asks you softly, raising his gaze to you, "We can stay here a while longer if you want."
"No," you reply immediately, "No, I don't want to make everyone wait for us," you release a long breath, calming your nerves, "I'm ready now."
He places a small comforting smile on his lips.
"You'll do fine, trust me," he assures you then moves closer to you and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead, just like at school.
His action definitely catches you off guard and you look at him slightly surprised, but Aemond doesn't give it that much importance, as if it was already a natural and routine thing between both of you, like a gesture of encouragement, to then take you by the hand together with him to the entrance of his house.
His house is nice and big, with a beautiful garden, so when you open the door, you see a huge and cozy living room with the dining room visible in the background, where you can make out Aegon's figure and his short silver hair.
Aemond closes the door behind you and you briefly look around, seeing the decorations of the elegant house, such as mirrors, flowers vases and also family photos.
Mostly, you see pictures of young children, which you recognize as Helaena, Aemond, Aegon and his other brother, Daeron.
There are also photos of what you assume is their mother and also a man, who you assume is the father, with Aemond and his siblings as children. But it strikes you that none of the four are smiling, just the mom a little.
There are more current pictures, only of Aemond, Helaena and Aegon smiling next to their mother, with no trace of their father and Daeron.
"He's my younger brother," he takes a single photo of a boy, standing next to you and handing it to you, "Daeron."
And just as you imagined, he's a boy of about fifteen with striking blue eyes and short silver hair, smiling at the camera with a bright face and looking in the background like he's standing in a lake at Honeyholt.
"Helaena was right," you say with a small smile, still inspecting the photo, "He really is the handsomest of the three of you."
"That's not true," he tells you immediately, taking the photo out of your hands and putting it back in its place with a quick, automatic gesture, making you laugh.
"What's up, bro?"
You both hear Aegon's voice and turn around, with the silver-haired man already walking towards you with a bottle of beer in his hand and a huge grin on his face.
"Are you drinking already?" Aemond inquires, "Mom's going to kill you."
"Oh, you know how persuasive I can be," he tells him without wiping off his smile, "Besides, I've already set the table," he points to the dining room, "It's dinner, bro."
"Careful," he warns you but he deliberately ignores him, heading in your direction.
"Y/N!" he exclaims your name smiling, coming over to embrace you, "Welcome to our home."
"Hi Aegon," you smile back at him.
He envelops you in a hug and you reciprocate cordially, instantly the strong smell of beer reaching your nostrils.
"Want one?" he points to the beer in his hand as he pulls away from you.
"I don't think so," Aemond answers him, again intertwining his hand with yours, "Where's mom?"
"In the kitchen with Hel" he points out, "Tell them to hurry, I'm starving," he says in a tone of voice that catches your attention.
But Aemond pulls you forward, starting to leave him behind, with a serious and disapproving look at his brother's attitude.
"It's the beer," he explains to you quietly, "I hate it when he drinks at home. I just hope it doesn't get unbearable later."
"Why?" you ask him, curious.
He shakes his head.
"Aegon is… complicated."
He doesn't say anything else and neither do you, mostly because he leads you toward the kitchen, but curiosity still lingers on that subject.
He gives your hand a gentle squeeze in a supportive gesture that comforts you as you both cross the threshold into the kitchen, where instantly the smell of delicious freshly baked food hits your nostrils.
And the first thing you notice is a silver hair along with a darker one, who you assume must be Aemond's mother.
And immediately your nerves again explode and you feel your heart pounding hard in your chest.
"Hey, Y/N!"
A friendly voice says to you, being Helaena, who is wiping her hands with a clean dish towel and wearing a beautiful blue dress, instantly heading towards you with open arms.
"Hi Hel," you smile back happily, hugging her enthusiastically.
"Oh I'm so happy you're in our home," she says excitedly and warmly without letting go of you, "We've prepared turkey, I hope you like it," she says as she pulls away from you.
"Oh I'm sure it will," you nod at her with a sincere smile, feeling welcomed by the warmth of her welcome.
"Mom."
Aemond's voice momentarily pulls you out of your conversation with Helaena and you turn your head to meet the gaze of Alicent, Aemond's mother.
Instantly you try to control your nerves and keep your composure, remembering his comforting words.
And when Alicent's gaze meets yours, a warm smile forms on his lips, which makes you feel less nervous and conveys a sense of calm. Although the nervousness lingers, you feel a little more secure with his kindness.
Aemond places a comforting hand on your shoulder and steps forward to introduce you.
"This is my girlfriend, Y/N," he points to you with his small smile, "And Y/N, this is my mom, Alicent."
She is a very beautiful woman.
It's the first thing that comes to your mind, noting the dimples in her cheeks and that warm look she has, not being intimidating at all and being rather kind.
Besides the dark green dress she wears is completely beautiful, as well as her accessories. Everything about her radiates elegance and poise.
"A pleasure to finally meet you, my dear," she says, turning to you, "Gosh, I was so excited to meet you. It's so nice of you to come."
And without expecting it, just like Helaena, she too greets you with a hug, taking you completely off guard, causing you to let out a nervous little laugh as you hug her back.
"The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Hightower," you say softly, feeling slightly overwhelmed by her kindness and warmth.
"Please call me Alicent," she says as she pulls away from you.
Before all this you asked Aemond what to call her, just for the heck of it and to feel less nervous and he told you 'Hightower', the last name of her father.
So you assume that Aemond's father is not someone who gets mentioned much around here. In the family photos he is present in only one picture. And Aemond doesn't talk about him either.
And he watches with a small smile at the interaction between you and his mother, feeling relieved that things are going well so far.
"Please go and take your seats. Dinner will be served soon," she says to Aemond and you.
"Do you need help?" he asks her.
"I'm already doing it myself," Hel says, "Don't worry, little brother."
"Can you help me with your brother, please," Alicent tells him, with a look of slight concern.
"Of course," he assures her in a gentle tone.
Soon the two of you return to the dining room, the two of you take a seat together with Aegon and Aemond tries to tell him not to overdo it with his drinks, that you are here to enjoy a nice dinner with his family.
But he just makes nonchalant gestures and tells him that everything is fine, to continue drinking, looking at the screen of his phone, waiting for dinner.
Then you don't know how much time passes exactly but Alicent returns very soon along with Helaena with the food, placing the dishes in the center of the table, indicating that all this will start soon.
Aemond places his hand on top of yours underneath the table, giving you every supportive gesture possible, reassuring you at every turn that he can that all will be fine.
Every brush of his fingers against yours conveys reassurance and comfort.
You feel a slight relief as you feel his touch, reminding you that you are not alone at this moment and his presence gives you strength to face any nervousness that may arise during dinner.
And with the food finally served, the silverware begins to clink against the plate glass as everyone begins to enjoy the delicious dinner.
Aemond, like the supposed boyfriend in love with you, is totally attentive to you, asking if you're served this or that, wanting to make sure you're well received and comfortable to make this more bearable.
And you thank him all the way, feeling his mother's gaze on both of you from time to time, without wiping away her warm smile.
"Did you like the food, dears?" she asks generally.
"Oh yes," Helaena says with a look of total complicity, delighting in the food.
"It's delicious, Mom," Aemond tells her later.
"Totally," you corraborate politely, nodding in her direction.
Alicent smiles in satisfaction and then turns her attention to Aegon, who hasn't said anything since everyone started eating.
"How about you, son?" she asks him softly.
"It's fine," he says curtly, taking a huge swig from his bottle of beer.
This definitely gets your attention but Alicent as well as Aemond and Helaena decide not to give it enough attention, as if they're already used to it and don't want to ruin the moment by his behavior.
But you do notice the disapproval in each of their looks, especially the disappointment in Alicent. Though she almost instantly turns her attention away from Aegon to Aemond and you.
"So, how long have you two been dating exactly?" she asks curiously and without losing the kindness in her gaze and tone.
"A month," Aemond replies without hesitation at your side, resting one of his arms on the back of your chair.
And Alicent shakes his head with a small smile on his lips.
"And I still can't believe he kept you hidden from me, Y/N."
You smile in his direction, trying not to let your nerves give you away, as Aemond again interjects, with a soft look.
"We didn't want to rush things."
"I told him not to take too long to tell you," Helaena says as well, pointing at Aemond as she watches her mother.
"But he didn't tell me anything, Aegon did," Alicent says in amusement.
"Oh come on, I was going to tell you anyway," Aemond tries to justify himself.
"Oh you were going to?" Hel questions him.
"You want to turn her against me."
"I'm just telling the truth, little brother."
This causes Alicent to laugh softly and his gaze meets yours, where you laugh softly too, as the fight between Aemond and Hel continues. But this causes you to begin to feel comfortable and more at ease with the whole situation.
The only thing at the table that is completely serious is Aegon, who continues to concentrate on his drink and the food in front of him.
His reserved attitude contrasts with the energy you have with Aemond, his mother and sister, but they don't really give him much attention and everyone continues to enjoy the delicious food and create topics of conversation.
"So…" Alicent begins to speak, watching you with her warm gaze, "What are your college plans, sweetie?"
Oh my God.
Okay, it's happening.
You think as you slowly start to panic, but quickly get yourself under control, settling back in your seat.
"You're all graduating soon," she points to her kids with a small smile.
And you're about to speak but someone else does first.
"Which wouldn't be the case if Aegon hadn't repeated year… twice," Hel says condescendingly, pouring herself more food in a casual gesture.
"Helaena," Alicent reprimands her in a soft tone.
"Don't start with me."
Aegon's voice finally makes itself heard in a long time, speaking in a cold, curt tone, not even observing his sister, focused on his food.
"Just saying," Helaena says also with a pout in his direction.
"Then speak for yourself. You're a year behind too."
"Ugh," she sighs, "You talk like you don't know what happened."
"That's enough," Alicent says calmly, watching you both with a look of silent warning.
The atmosphere tenses slightly and all is silent for a moment, as you notice how Aemond next to you only runs a hand over his chin and you only hear the clink of silverware clattering against glass plates.
Alicent then turns his gaze to you and there you decide to speak, hoping to restore comfort to the atmosphere.
"Well, actually, I've applied to Oldtown University," you say with a soft smile, controlling your nerves, "I'm planning on getting into law school."
Surprise flashes across Alicent's face, as you briefly feel Aemond watching you beside you.
"Oh, wow," she nods slowly, her expression one of amazement, "What a coincidence, that's the same college Aemond wants to go to."
Aemond nods with a small smile, completely keeping up appearances.
"Yes," he confirms, "In fact it's perfect for us to go to the same place after graduation."
And just to show more affection with you, he places his hand and yours intertwined on top of the table, watching you with that 'love' he seeks to convey in these moments in front of his mother.
And Alicent watches you both with her soft smile, but is still intrigued by you.
"And why that choice? Law is something you always wanted to study?" she asks you, with genuine interest in her voice.
You try not to focus too much on the way Aemond's thumb begins to gently caress the skin on the back of your hand, which at the same time also reassures you.
And you nod in Alicent's direction.
"Yes, it's something I've always been interested in. It's a very heavy degree with very dense material, but it's very interesting and it's long been what I've decided for myself."
Alicent nods in your direction, listening to you intently and looking completely interested.
"And I guess at Oldtown it's a great opportunity to want to study law."
"Oh yes," you say eagerly, "Oldtown has one of the best faculties with very capable professors and all the material you need. It's certainly a great opportunity."
"But I also think that getting to study at such an in-demand university with few places in that major can be difficult," she tells you corroborating in conversation.
"Yeah, that's the bad thing, but…" you shrug, "I'm hopeful."
You watch subtly beside you, focusing for a moment on Aemond, speaking with that complicit tone, as of course he doesn't forget that the reason you're here doing this is precisely because of Oldtown.
He knows that all too well too.
"And your parents are supportive of your decision to study law?"
Slight surprise passes across your face, definitely not expecting that question, but you quickly manage to soften your face, though you still remain silent for a moment.
You try to hide any trace of bewilderment as you search for a suitable answer. And it is Alicent's same warm gaze that encourages you to respond.
"Uh… yes, my father is just as excited as I am about this possible opportunity," you reply with a small smile, being honest, "He has always supported me in all my decisions."
You respond without saying anything else and with sincerity, not mentioning anything about your mother.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," he nods at you and smiles warmly, "And what about your mother, dear?" she asks with genuine curiosity.
Inevitably your whole body tenses at that moment. And an uncomfortable feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as you think again about how to respond.
You honestly didn't expect the conversation to get to this point, about how even after talking only about your father, you're still being asked about your mother.
And for a moment, you don't know what to say or what to do, but you finally decide to react after everything falls into an awkward silence and they begin to look at you slightly confused by your lack of response.
Until you decide to be honest.
"Well, I-I…" you bite your lips, "I don't actually live with her," you admit in a soft voice, avoiding eye contact for a moment, "And I haven't seen her since I was six."
Slight concern crosses Alicent's face, instantly watching you in regret.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, sweetie," she says sincerely, embarrassed to have caused you discomfort, "I had no idea. I apologize."
You're about to tell her it's okay, that it's no problem because she didn't know, that it's no big deal, but you don't even get a chance to speak when sudden laughter is heard throughout the dining room.
The tension in the air dissipates in that instant as everyone turns to the source of the laughter, Aegon.
He is visibly drunk, but still conscious enough to know what is going on around him and that is what is alarming.
Alicent, Helaena and Aegon's faces fill with bewilderment and disapproval, except for yours, as you watch Aegon in confusion, not quite understanding what is going on.
"Aegon," Alicent calls to him now truly annoyed, watching him seriously and reproachfully.
But Aegon barely manages to contain his laughter as he apologizes between laughs.
"Sorry, I couldn't help it," he mutters, his tone full of amusement and insolence.
Then Aemond at your side watches him completely serious, his jaw clenched and his gaze dark, holding back his fury at his reaction after you shared a very intimate and sensitive piece of information to you.
And Aegon laughs at it because of his own stupidity? Of course he's not going to allow that.
"What's so funny?" he inquires, expectant and about to explode.
Aegon straightens in his chair, a smirk on his face.
"Oh, nothing," he replies mockingly, "I just think she and you are perfect for each other. Apparently, we're not the only ones who have parental issues, are we?"
He asks watching his mother and sister, which makes Alicent feel even more tense, watching you worried and apologetic about the little show her eldest son is putting on.
"That's enough," she reprimands him firmly.
But Aegon seems determined to move on and turns to you again with a gesture of camaraderie, ignoring his mother's words and his brother's attitude.
"Don't worry, Y/N," he tells you with a crooked smile, "You can talk about it here and no one will judge you. All of us would understand, wouldn't we? We who wouldn't know about the subject of fucking neglectful parents with their kids."
Aemond's gaze becomes even more intense and his jaw tighter, watching his brother as if he could throw daggers at him with his eye.
"Shut the fuck up," he orders him, controlling himself as much as he can at that moment.
"Aemond," Alicent calls out to him worriedly.
"Or what?" Aegon challenges him, "She better know what she's getting herself into once and for all. With our fucking family traumatized by her own father who never cared about us."
"I said shut the fuck up," Aemond demands of him rising from his chair, causing everyone at the table to become alarmed.
Alicent rises at about the same time he does, and Helaena rises next, alert and worried, while you and Aegon continue to sit, he still unconcerned and you… because you don't even know how to feel about it.
The tension is too much, this is all unexpected and it's all happening too fast. And as if things couldn't get any worse, Aegon continues to talk and drink more.
"I'm just saying you two are the perfect match," he continues, his tone increasingly amused, "She doesn't have a mom and you don't have a dad, bro. Awesome, isn't it?"
Then it all happens too fast.
Aemond advances towards Aegon with a furious determination on his face that puts everyone at the table on alert, reaches towards him and grabs him hard by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to get up.
"Aemond!"
Alicent and Helaena immediately intervene, rushing towards them to stop them, but Aegon doesn't even have time to react before he finds himself on his feet, with Aemond holding him tightly.
"Stop it, Aemond!" exclaims Alicent, his tone full of authority and concern.
You finally rise from your seat as well, alert and worried, not knowing exactly what to do or what to say, feeling your pulse racing.
Then Aegon reacts as well, his face transforming into one of rage, placing his hands on top of his brother's.
"Get your fucking hands off me," he manages to say with difficulty.
"I told you to shut the fuck up or didn't I?"
"Oh and now you're going to hit me? Huh?" he asks, punching him in the chest with his hands, "You're going to hit me? And for what? For telling the truth?"
"What the fuck is wrong with you huh!? You fucking cunt," Aemond hits him back in the chest.
"Let go of me, you fucking asshole!"
"That's enough!" Alicent intervenes again, her voice firm and full of authority, "Aemond, let go right now!" she orders, furious, implying that she won't repeat it a fourth time.
The tension in the room seems to increase with each passing moment, as you hold your breath, watching Aemond worriedly, as does Helaena.
Aemond hesitates for a moment, glaring at his brother with determination, until he finally releases him with a tug, pulling away from him still watching him in warning and utter annoyance.
Aegon straightens, rubbing his neck as he glares at his brother resentfully.
"I don't need this shit. Enjoy your fucking dinner," he says grumpily, grabbing his bottle of beer and heading for the stairs, not giving anyone a glance.
At least your pulse starts to calm down when you see how it's finally all over, but you still watch Aemond worriedly.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Alicent turns to you sorrowfully, averting your gaze to her, "What a shame."
"No, no, don't worry…
You start to say in a soft tone when Aemond's serious but definitely kinder voice makes itself heard in your direction.
"I'll wait outside."
The three of you watch him silently and watch as with nonchalant gestures he takes his car keys from his front pocket and with his face still contained in fury, heads out of the house.
With a lump in your throat, you turn to Alicent and Helaena, feeling the weight of tension still hanging in the air even so.
"Thank you so much for dinner. It was nice to meet you," you say to Alicent, trying to sound as calm, gentle and kind as possible.
Alicent smiles sadly back at you, still with her saddened and troubled face.
"It was lovely to meet you and have you come, honey," she tells you sincerely, "Still I'm so sorry. It wasn't my plan for dinner to end like this."
"I totally understand, don't worry," you say with a small smile, "We can always do it again."
You say and immediately regret it, but manage to soften your face in time.
This was supposed to be the only time you would do this, but you feel you owe it to her, to Alicent, as she prepared a delicious dinner with great care. She seemed so excited and happy about everything, especially about you coming that it is such a shame that this happened.
More than anything else that's why you say so.
"Of course," she nods to you, kindly and cordially.
You bid her goodbye with a gentle hug, then embrace Helaena as well, conveying your silent support through the simple gesture.
"If you need to talk, we can do it at school," she murmurs in your ear before releasing you.
"Sure," you promise, returning the hug gratefully.
You take one last look at both of them and head out of the house. And once outside, you feel a shiver run down your spine as you face the cool night air.
And there you see him, in the middle of the night silence and at the edge of the street, leaning against his car, smoking a cigarette with an almost absent gesture, looking thoughtful but also still a little upset about what happened.
You watch as he lets the smoke go between his parted lips and you, letting out a long breath, head towards him.
When he looks back at you, you too just watch him silently and he wordlessly opens the driver's door with a soft squeak and gets in the car, so you follow after him, feeling the weight of silence between you.
You too slide into the passenger seat and close the door, where soon the two of you find yourselves moving through the quiet streets of the city, the music on the radio playing at a low volume in the background.
And that's the only sound between you, the music, and even then it's a little uncomfortable.
You bite the inside of your cheek, struggling to find the right words as the tension lingers, but you don't even know what to say. What are you supposed to say when that happened?
But finally it's Aemond who breaks the silence.
"I hope you enjoyed the show," he murmurs, not taking his eye off the road.
You are momentarily speechless, not knowing what to say at that, not even finding the right words in your mind. Then you let out a low sigh, understanding how he must be feeling.
You mean… you went to meet his mother, it was a family dinner, everything was going well and to suddenly have it all end like that with very personal confessions that you had no idea about… it must be completely frustrating for him that you witnessed that.
"Are you okay?" you ask him in a low, soft tone, watching him intently, concerned and understanding.
He lets out a long breath, pursing his lips as he considers your answer, saying nothing for a moment. But when he finally does, he says it in a voice laden with weariness, regret and seriousness.
"I'm not even upset that Aegon said all that… he… he's right," he says resentfully, "I'm upset that you had to witness it."
The weight of his words falls on you, sensing Aemond's seriousness and frustration in his words. You watch his serious and weary face, the fury he is still holding back.
And for a moment, you look like you're not going to say anything, but after biting your lips, you finally speak.
"You don't have to worry about me," you tell him in a soft voice, "After all, he was right about what he said about my mother too," you add, seeking to offer some comfort, "I don't even remember her, you know? And honestly… it doesn't affect me nor do I care."
If your words caused anything in him, he doesn't show it, as he continues with his eye focused on the road.
But inside, he can't help but feel a little surprised and amazed at your ability to accept those circumstances with such calm and determination compared to him.
And finally he nods, understanding the truth of your words.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper.
You watch him with a soft and… slightly thoughtful gaze, feeling the tension between the two of you finally begin to fade, resulting in a warm and pleasant atmosphere for the two of you, as usual.
And unexpectedly for him, you take his free hand gently and intertwine your fingers with his, offering a small gesture of support amidst still the frustration he is feeling.
"I don't," you confess softly.
You don't say anything else and neither does he, hoping you can put this behind you. And all along the way, he keeps gently stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.
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You wait anxiously, moving your foot repeatedly up and down, glancing from time to time at your surroundings and also at the screen of your phone, wanting to keep the time very much in mind.
The gentle morning breeze caresses your face, with the sun painting golden hues in the morning sky and listening in the background to the birds singing, but also all the movement of the soccer team training early at this hour from the field.
Everything seems to be calm, except for your racing heartbeat, where you avoid biting your nails and simply bite your lips in a nervous gesture, as well as the inside of your cheek.
Then you finally see Aemond approaching with his backpack on his shoulder and his face soft.
"Hey," he says softly, taking a seat in front of you, taking off his backpack and watching you carefully, "What's up? Is everything okay?"
Out of nerves, your whole body tenses and you avoid stuttering as you speak, stirring in your seat.
"Yeah, yeah, just…" you lower your gaze, playing with your fingers, "I just want to talk to you about something."
Aemond nods, giving you his full attention.
"Well? What is it?" he asks you warmly, not wanting to put pressure on you as he notices all the tension that is invading you at the moment.
But he honestly starts to worry seeing you that way.
And you swallow hard, with your gaze lowered, feeling the need to just let it out and nothing more, having that urge so you don't keep torturing yourself with your destructive thoughts.
"I was thinking that… maybe…" you let out a sigh, "Maybe we should stop this," you mutter, your voice barely a whisper.
And Aemond only watches you more intently, beginning to look alert, furrowing his brows in confusion.
"Stop what?"
You bite the inside of your cheek hard, completely flustered.
"Our fake relationship," you reply cautiously, watching him intently and with some concern.
"What?" he immediately queries you, "I-I don't-I don't understand."
"I think we've both accomplished what we wanted to… oh well, almost everything," you tell him knowingly, "But we've already put on a good show in front of the whole school, Alys is upset enough, and the cheating thing is behind us. We should stop."
You explain but in the middle of all your explanation, Aemond only frowns more, listening to you completely attentive, watching you surprised and incredulous.
"And the trip to Dragonstone?" he inquires you, with a serious and alert look, "That trip is key, it would be great for both of us to go together, as a couple."
You try to remain calm, but your heart is pounding and your nerves are getting the better of you.
"Yes, I know, but… do we really need to keep pretending?" you ask, "You've already saved your reputation, remember?"
Aemond shakes his head firmly, his jaw tense with mounting frustration.
"It's still not enough," he tells you seriously, "At least wait until after the trip."
"Aemond, I don't see why we should wait until then," you mutter, unsure, "We can finish everything now."
Aemond's expression hardens, his jaw tense with frustration as he tries to understand you.
"Y/N, the trip is in the contract," he tells you firmly, "And we agreed to finish everything until graduation."
You exhale, feeling the overwhelming weight of the situation that you didn't expect was going to get this bad the moment you decided to do this.
"I know, but I don't see the point of this anymore."
He becomes more confused, shaking his head, looking at you confused and now completely frustrated.
"What-what's wrong?" he asks you in a soft but urgent voice, attentive, "Did something happen?" he asks you concerned and interested, "Did something happen that I still don't know about?"
Oh God.
Fear grips you as you struggle to keep your composure and not let your nerves get the better of you.
"Or is this because of the dinner thing? And because of Alys' pranks?" he asks you worriedly, "If it's that, tell me. I-I'll find a way to fix it. You won't have to go to dinner at my house again and I'm sure I can talk to Alys."
"No, no… I-I…" you sigh, "It's not that-
He shrugs, looking at you confused and frustrated.
"Then what is it?"
Your heart pounds as you struggle to keep your composure in front of him.
Your words get stuck in your throat, enduring Aemond's still serious, worried and frustrated look on you, waiting for an explanation. But the feeling of panic grows in your chest and you resign yourself completely.
"Nothing, forget it," you say in a whisper, lowering your gaze.
You stand up and gather your things, slinging your backpack over your shoulder, just as Aemond sighs and looks more frustrated.
"Y/N," he calls your name in a tired gesture.
But you don't heed him, just focus on getting away from him,
"Y/N, please stop," he says to you in a soft but urgent voice.
But you don't stop, you can't.
How could you do it and how could you tell him that the real reason you decided to bring this up to your fake boyfriend is because maybe you are actually falling in love with him and the feeling is getting more and more intense, and you can't help it?
You just can't.
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general taglist:
@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @iloveallmyboys
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chrysanthemumgames · 26 days
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Hey Jess! Congrats on being about a week out from release! I'm playing the first 3 chapters since they went up on the forum as a preview and I'm still just so in love with this game! You polished it so well between all the edits and I can't wait till I get to play through the whole story!!! Also v excited for the next patreon BIP~ just wanted to drop in and say again congrats and also omg I did not realize the game went over 1 million words! You're amazing and FOA is amazing and I'm so glad I got to see how it's evolved these last several years :3 thanks for sharing your story with us =D
Oh, thank you! I hadn't even seen that post go up in the forum thread, so that was fun to discover.
(Psst, everyone, you can play the first three chapters of the full game right now for free!)
But seriously, thank you. I may or may not be a huge nervous wreck right now as release day approaches, but yes. Final word count was actually something like 1.3 million? And that's after I took out a lot of messy, bulky code from the first draft, so I'm pretty proud of it. I'm sure there are still redundancies and things contributing to that number, but that's how being a code scrub is sometimes.
I really hope everyone enjoys the final result. :)
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chubsonthemoon · 8 months
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Happy Binderary 2024!! Kicking things off with the fantastic Never understood a single word he said by dear friend @aboxthecolourofheartache. I had the best time beta'ing this for Box and just had to have it on my shelf! More pics and process info under the cut:
had an absolute blast packing as many easter eggs as I could into this one! it's a roadtrip gone wrong fic heh, so I went for a scrapbook/collage cover made of the same kraft paper I usually use for paperbacks, but left the hinge + spine exposed. I tore each piece from a different sheet of scrapbook paper, so the resulting texture is really fun:
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I also went to town with references to some of the events in the story, particularly on the back of the cover. the postcard is probably my favorite element; here are my few first practice runs on scratch paper (along with some of my colored pencil testings for the markings on the map) before I went for it on the real cover!
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I repurposed the ribbon graphics I originally drew for another bind (@feralrookie's right where I should be ❤️). the music notes on the first page notate the rhythm of the opening lines of the song the fic is based on, Three Dog Night's "Joy to the World," which I had on loop while I was typesetting this! ("Jeremiah was a bullfrog/Was a good friend of mine.") Box's taste in trigun-themed country and blues is impeccable, and I have a whole spotify playlist made almost entirely of her recs ehe :3
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the blank/empty ribbon appears between chapter 1 and the epilogue for story reasons ehe; really wanted to convey the feeling of "where did the music go?", because I also listened to American Pie a lot while making this lolol.
also added little camera graphic at the end, which reminded me of meryl's occupation as a journalist, but the hands/lack of a face holding the camera also gives me the uncanny feeling of being watched/photographed (also plot relevant heh). camera graphic and the house graphic at the beginning are both sourced from Heritage Type's free vintage illustrations, from a series of packs called "Hands Holding Stuff."
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the hand holding the house on the title page gave me wolfwood's confessional-on-the-go vibes, BUT it was originally held straight like this:
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so I decided to tilt it to give it more of that feeling of instability and "oh shit my entire world is being turned upside down rn god the exits WHERE ARE THE EXITS (there are no exits)" feeling present in the fic :D so I guess it's more of a knives reference?? still, the kind of "what is even going on here?" reaction I had when I first saw it fits well with the title, so I went with it!
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and that's it for now!! I'll be out of town for the next week or so, but I have a bunch more projects I'm really excited to share this month, along with some long-overdue author copies that I'm excited to get mailed to their rightful homes!
finally, thank you SO much for letting me bind your work, Box!!! it's always such a pleasure <333
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nolita-fairytale · 2 years
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make my heart surrender | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: friday
pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader
warnings: lots of swearing, angst, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers, smutty smut-smut, this is an 18+ chapter so minors dni, no use of y/n, second person pov
word count: 6.7k
summary: buckle up people, because this is a long one! tonight is the night: the night you and marcus' dessert menu goes live, the night you meet natalie berzatto, and the night that truths are revealed.
a/n: is it hot in here or is it just me? who's ready for some smut? this will be the last chapter i post till sunday/monday, so we can all sit with this. hear me out: it's not that i think carmy is really good at sex. but there's so much tension between these two, i think reader is good at sex, and there's something to be said for being so turned on by the other person that it just hits different.
and here is that song -- the jazz standard turned acoustic cover.
read: part three | masterlist
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Friday
“Just remember that we don’t have to reinvent the wheel here. You just have to deliver a really damn good dessert time after time,” you instruct, setting Marcus up, pre-dinner shift. 
“I think we should focus on the burnt basque cheesecake in lieu of the classic. You already have a heavier lift on the bake for the chocolate cake. That way, whatever happens with the mixer, or the ovens… this version of cheesecake is pretty forgiving. And you don’t have to fuck around with a water bath just yet.”
“The tiramisu is perfect because it’s a no-bake option, and you can mix it up with different kinds of flavors – call it a special.” 
“Like what we’re doing Sunday?” Marcus suggests, in reference to the strawberry, lemon, and mascarpone version you be doing at the end of the week.
“Exactly,” you reply.
“Hell yeah.”
“It all fits into the menu so nicely too: elevated classics.”
“A play on tradition.”
“Exactly."
“Ah, I see you, chef,” Marcus nods along, excited about tonight’s R&D night. 
The game plan is to serve smaller portions of each dessert for the price of one, then get feedback by the end of the weekend. 
“Hey, family’s up in a minute. You guys ready to roll tonight?” Carmy asks, stopping by you and Marcus’ little pastry corner. 
“Yes, chef,” you both answer, in staggered timing. 
“She got me workin’ on a strawberry compote. Here, try it, chef,” Marcus encourages, grabbing a clean spoon and scooping out a spoonful from the deli container it’s been stored in. Carmy takes it, putting the spoon in his mouth and he tries the compote. 
“That’s gonna be really good with the tang and slightly bitter outside of the burnt cheesecake. Good work, chef,” he congratulates, inspiring a grin across Marcus face. 
“I’m learning so much from you. Seriously. Thank you, chef,” he says, turning to you. 
“Hey, you’re the one that made the compote,” you reply, redirecting the praise back to him. “Just sayin’.”
“Family’s up!” Sydney calls out to the whole kitchen. 
You lock eyes with Carmy, and he nods towards the front of house as if to say, ‘follow me.’ You and Marcus file in through the limited space that leads from the kitchen to the front counter, then finally, into the dining area of the restaurant. Carmy had told you all about the hellish remodel of this place – that the two tops, booths, and bar remodel had taken for-fuckin-ever. That it looked like nothing more than a diner with a few arcade games before the reopen. 
“Hey, thanks for jumping in so that Angel could cover me the other night,” Ebrahim says to you, as you find a seat next to Carmy, and across from Marcus. 
“Oh, it’s no problem. You feelin’ better?” you ask back. 
“Very much so. A little rest and a little maraq digaag and I’m good as new,” he answers. 
“What’s good, Jeff? Surprised you’ve stuck around this long. Glad we haven’t scared you away yet,” Tina greets. 
Carmy’s shocked, considering Tina rarely warms up to anyone. 
You chuckle in response. 
“It takes a lot more to scare me away, chef,” you reply, confident that you can keep up with everyone’s witty banter. Even though you’ve been welcomed in over the last few days, you know that they were a family before you came. 
And will still be one after you. 
Right. Because this is temporary. You’re only here for a week, you remind yourself. 
“Yeah, thought she’d be long gone after workin’ the line the other night,” Richie chimes in. “Especially considering she’s way out of your league, cousin.” 
“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” Carmy shoots back, almost instantly. 
“I’m just glad you’re here now. Man, it’s been three days and you’ve leveled my shit up already,” Marcus compliments. 
“Besides, it’s nice to have some solidarity amongst the little boys club we work in every damn day,” Sydney points out, eliciting a scoff from Richie.
The two of you share a look, like a psychic high five or some shit. It begins to dawn on you that you could get used to this: this kitchen, these people….
“What? You got something against women supporting women, Richie?”
“Oh, so what? You’re the voice of feminism now, Syd?” Richie spits back. “Holy shit! Did you guys know that we were here in the presence of the new voice of-.”
You watch as Tina and Gary slump in their chairs, as if to say, ‘here they go again.’
“Don’t be such a prick, Richie. Oh wait.” Sydney challenges. 
“You know what-?” Richie starts up, before being swiftly interrupted.
“Damn, Syd. This is fantastic,” you interject, your voice louder than normal, in reference to her family meal. “These tostadas are fuckin’ perfect and I’m gonna need the recipe.”
Richie continues to go on about god knows what, distracting himself, as Sydney mouths a, ‘thank you’ across the table towards you. You nod towards her as if to say, 
I got you.
*
“Hey, I’m a little behind on plating. Sorry, chef,” Marcus apologizes, and you can tell he’s stressed. He gestures towards the plates that are ready to go out to the bar. 
He hesitates before asking, “Oh and uh… these ones are ready to go out. Can you-?”
“‘Course, chef,” you answer, a mini-pep talk coming his way. “But uh… before you keep going, Marcus, take a breath. I know you struggle a little with pacing – you want everything to perfect – but, it’s gonna come with practice and repetition.”
You can see that he’s flustered – a little frustrated even. 
“Expediting during dinner is a whole other animal, and it’s just night one. You got this,” you reassure. 
You and Carmy had such different leadership styles. While you both had come up in the same kind of kitchens, you didn’t like to yell unless you had to. You were here to teach, and you can’t remember the last time someone screaming at you had ever helped you learn something. 
You’re more than happy to support him by taking these plates out. You spent the first half of dinner service plating so that he could get some face time with customers – since you’d be asking for feedback. Then you’d switch halfway through service.  You also thought it might be good practice for him to lead, considering they’d need to hire more help with the new menus. 
You take a look at the ticket, one dessert tasting - two people - bar top, before taking the dessert plates out to the designated seats at the bar. There’s a gorgeous blonde woman sitting next to a guy in a sweater vest, as you make to approach the bar top. 
“Hi, you guys,” you greet, a cheerful smile on your face. “Sorry to keep you waiting. We’re testing out a few new desserts for our dinner menu, so I’d love to hear what you think.”
“Oh this looks great,” the woman says, looking at both perfectly plated desserts. 
“Here we have a burnt basque cheesecake with a strawberry compote, The Bear’s signature chocolate layer cake, and then a classic Italian tiramisu,” you explain, walking through each piece. 
“Wow,” the man marvels, almost as if he’s surprised. 
You share your name with them, and let them know that, if they have any feedback, that they can ask for you. As you turn to go, the woman calls after you, stopping you. 
“Wait,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “You’re Carmy’s friend.”
“Yes.”
“Pete, it’s Carmy’s friend!” she exclaims, nudging the man next to her with her elbow to try to jog his memory. “You know! The one that’s staying in our airbnb.”
“Oh!” he says, as the light bulb goes on in his brain. “Yeah, we’ve heard all about you.”
“I’m sorry,” the woman apologizes. “I’m Natalie, his sister, but you can call me Sugar. This is my husband, Pete.”
“Oh my god! Natalie! Yes, I’ve heard so much about you too,” you reply, finally registering that this was the same woman in family photos that Carmy had shown you years ago. “It’s so nice to put a face to the name. And great to meet you too, Pete. Seriously, thanks for letting me stay at the place. I mean, you really didn’t have to.”
“Likewise,” she says back. She scoffs before rolling her eyes and continuing. “Leave it to Carmy to ask us for a favor and not even introduce you to us, that soft shitty bitch!”
“Babe,” Pete starts. “Maybe we shouldn’t be so hard on Carmy, you know, in front of his-.” He gestures towards you and you’re not sure what he thinks you are to Carmy. 
Sugar brushes him off with a, ‘whatever,’ before you notice that they’re both in need of clean forks. 
“You guys need clean forks. I’m gonna-,” you start. 
“Oh no! I uh-, let me get it,” Pete interrupts, practically jumping out of his seat. 
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” he agrees, leaving the two of you alone. 
You lean against the bar top towards Sugar. 
“Well, he couldn’t get out of here fast enough,” you say with a laugh, stating the obvious. She laughs with a nod towards her husband. 
“Yeah he’s… special,” she replies. “I think he uh, I think he just wanted to give us some time to talk.” 
You’re not sure what to say next, because you’re not sure what you and Carmy’s sister, one you’ve never met before, would have to talk about. 
“So how’s the place? Do you have everything you need or-?” Sugar begins, in reference to the airbnb. 
“Oh! Yeah, no it’s great. I’ve got everything I need. Again, thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.”
“No, we wanted to!”
“Thanks…” you trail off, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable – nervous, maybe? Yep, definitely nervous, you realize, as you begin to ramble. “It’s a really great apartment. Beautifully styled.”
What the fuck are you even talking about, you think to yourself.
“Oh, I did that! Styled it, I mean,” Sugar’s quick to respond.
“Oh, wow!” you say. Were all the Berzattos creative? “Yeah, I just-, I really appreciate it. Made getting out here a little easier.”
“No, yeah, it’s-, it’s no problem,” Sugar continues. “Really… anything for a friend of Carmy’s.” 
You’re not sure why it’s so awkward, and it feels like you’re somehow both dancing around something you’re not even sure you should be dancing around. 
“I hope you don’t think I’m a total bitch for saying this but,” Sugar starts, cautiously. While she doesn’t want to make her brother look like a total loser in front of you, she’s also unsure of how else to say what she says next. 
“Bear's never really had any friends… not a lot of them, at least. So I-. Thank you. I mean. For being his friend, I guess… is what I’m trying to say.” 
Bear.
You figure it's a family nickname. You wonder why you’ve never heard it before, and yet, it’s no surprise that he kept it from you. He’d been so evasive about his family when you’d first met. For a bit, it just felt like a topic that was off limits.
You take a beat, processing what she’s just said. In some ways, you always knew that Carmy was a bit of a loner, but you could feel the weight of what she’s saying – how much it meant to her. 
“I know he’s not always easy to love but. I don’t know. He acts like he doesn’t need people, and I know he does. I mean, people outside of this fucked up shit hole anyways,” she continues, gesturing to her surroundings. 
You agree with a small laugh, “Yeah, he can be a real dick sometimes. That’s for sure.” 
“Seriously. Thank you,” she says, genuinely. 
“Of course,” you reply, making sure she knows that her words mean a lot to you. You take a more playful tone as you continue. “To be fair, we did meet in another fucked up spot. Not so much a shit hole though.”
“Yeah, and there’s that,” she sighs, lightheartedly. 
“I’m just glad he has someone. He needs someone. Even when he doesn’t want to.”
The rest of dinner service is a blur, as your mind continues to incubate on what Sugar had said to you. You let your interaction with her sit there, but try your best to focus on supporting the rest of service. 
You all work together to wrap up the evening – a chaotic dinner service with a lot of lessons learned. You and Carmy are the last to leave as you notice he’s wrapping up a few things in his office. With your jacket on, backpack slung over one shoulder, you stop by to say goodnight before heading out. 
He’s sitting in the chair, furiously scribbling a few notes down on a few pages of graphing paper. Your eyes flicker over all of the silly doodles on the whiteboard behind him. 
“Hey,” you say, causing him to look up from his notebook. 
“Good service tonight,” he says back. 
“Yeah,” you nod in agreement. “Desserts were a hit.”
“I heard,” he replies. 
You wait for him to say more, only he doesn’t. 
“So, I’m gonna get out of here. Marcus is gonna fly solo tomorrow morning, so I won’t be in till the dinner shift,” you start, shooting him a polite smile. 
You take a few steps away from the office before he calls out to you. 
“Hey!” 
You stop, taking a few steps backwards so that you’re standing in the office doorway once again. 
“You hungry?” he asks, tentatively. 
There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite identify: a little nervousness, and something else you haven’t had a chance to name yet. It’s like he’s not ready to part ways with you yet. You smile back at him, hoping to quell whatever nerves he has about the question he just asked you. 
“Always, Carm.”  
You’re tired and your feet ache from a particularly busy service, but you’re not ready to part ways with him either.
“Watcha thinkin?” you ask curiously, sliding your other arm through the loose strap of your backpack. 
“Can I cook you something?” he proposes, hopefully.
You laugh. 
“Is that even a real question?” 
You wait for him as he wraps up his notes and gather his things. Carmy slips on his jacket and ballcap, ready to head home with you. On the way, he lights up a cigarette, offering one to you, but you tell him that you’re trying to quit – or at least trying to cut back. It’s not a long walk back to his place, and you anticipate it being something along the same lines as what he had in New York: facebook marketplace couch, minimal food in the fridge, a TV and a bed. 
Nothing else – just a place to sleep, before he spends most of his day at the restaurant. 
When you arrive, you’re not surprised to see that your assumptions were correct. Carmy flips on a few lights as you follow behind him. You drop your book bag onto his couch, slipping your shoes off and removing your jacket, as Carmy bee lines for the kitchen. You hear the faucet turn on as you tentatively explore his small apartment, before meeting him in the small kitchen area.
He takes his time, washing his hands, before drying them on a dish towel and throwing it over his shoulder. 
“So what are we makin’, chef?” you inquire.
“We aren’t making anything. You’re gonna sit right over here,” he begins, gesturing towards the area across from his gas stovetop. “Oh shit. Hold on. Let me grab you a-.”
“I’m good here, chef,” you interrupt, making a sound as you hop onto the kitchen counter. You immediately reach for the bag of chips he’s thrown onto it. It’s not even closed properly with a clip or anything so expect them to be stale as you pop one of the chips into your mouth.
“Sour cream and onion? Change up from your regular doritos, huh?”
A small smile spreads across his face as he moves around his kitchen, locating a quarter sheet pan. He opens his practically desolate fridge, pulling out a fresh brick of pecorino romano, guanciale, and a few eggs he throws right into the pint-sized deli container that lays on the sheet pan. The rest follow: an unopened pound of dried spaghetti and black pepper, before he gently places the sheet pan on the counter, beginning to preheat two pans on the stovetop. 
“Are you-?”
“Uh huh.”
You smile to yourself. He’s making one of your favorites: carbonara. 
The first time he’d made it for you, you had just started spending some of your days off together – had just agreed to be a part of each others' quarantine pods. You knew he had Italian-American heritage but it was blatantly obvious when you took your first bite.
“Holy fuck,” you had practically moaned at your first bite. “This-, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure your talents are being wasted on fine dining, my friend. This is… this is fucking unreal, dude.”
You had tried to convince him that this is the food you both should be cooking, but he vehemently denied the idea, insisting the fine dining was the highest on the food chain and the only way he could make a name for himself. 
He’d been drinking the kool-aid. You both had. 
You sit quietly, as Carmy works. You watch as he cuts perfect lardons, then renders the fat from the cured pork bits. The smell of the guanciale begins to fill the apartment, and Carmy opens a window, just to let the smoke dissipate. 
“You can uh, put some music on if you want,” Carmy says, motioning towards the small bluetooth speaker he has on the coffee table. You agree to, hopping off of the kitchen counter and making your way towards his living area to set up the speaker.
You flip through your phone, looking for a good playlist to put on, settling on one of your dinner party playlists. The speaker booms with the sounds of an old jazz standard, redone as an acoustic cover, and you turn the volume up a little as the water for the spaghetti comes to a boil. 
You spend time looking through Carmy’s bookshelf. It’s filled with thick-spined cookbooks from James Beard winning best restaurants and chefs. You drag your fingertips over the spine of a few classics, but settle on a fairly new book, written by someone at the New York Times. 
“Do you have any other books besides cookbooks?” you call out to him. 
He lets out a dry laugh and you take it as a no. 
You make your way back to your spot on the counter, sliding the open chip bag over, before hopping back up to your seat. You flip through the cookbook as Carmy stays busy with the pasta. 
It’s quiet moments like these that you’ve missed so much. Some days the two of you could talk for hours about sous vide vs reverse searing, and the right way to make a fucking bearnaisse sauce. Other days, Carmy wasn’t much for conversation, and you loved those ones equally. Sometimes, you just wanted company, so he’d come over and work on a recipe and you’d read while he worked in your kitchen.
You could just be together, and it was nice to feel that again. 
No awkward tension of things left unsaid. 
But there was a different kind of tension that seemed to linger between the two of you and you wondered if it had always been there. Had you just never noticed? Between the little comments from Richie about being out of his league, and Pete’s open-ended ‘not in front of his’ you wondered if everyone knew something you didn’t. 
“Which one’d you go with?” he asks, continuing his graceful dance around the kitchen. 
“Korean American. Eric Kim. I hadn’t had a chance to pick up a copy for myself yet, actually,” you answer, flipping through the first few pages.
Your met with quiet as you continue your story.
“You know we’re kind of friends. We went out for drinks a few times. Before I quit my job. Went dancing in the east village and stayed out till two in the morning bar hopping and gossiping about our mutual celebrity crush, Timothee Chalamet,” you add, your attention still fixed on the vibrant, colorful food photographs. 
“Timothee Chalamet, huh?” Carmy asks, amused.
Your attention isn’t on Carmy, or what he’s doing, save for the sounds of him moving around the kitchen. That is, until you look up to find him unceremoniously close to you, peering over onto the page you seem so fascinated with.
“Jesus Christ, Car!” you gasp, surprised by his close proximity. Your heart was beating faster as he took a step back.  “You scared the shit out of me!”
“Sorry,” he mumbles, his head hanging as he takes a few steps back. “Didn’t mean to.”
“No, it’s okay!” you assure. But it’s too late, so you change the subject, deciding to finish your story. “Anyways uh… I had to hang out with someone after you left New York. Make some new friends.”
“We both know you’ve never struggled with that,” Carmy points out, eliciting a playful eye roll from you. 
He returns with the most aesthetically pleasing twirl of spaghetti carbonara. It’s so perfect you almost can’t fathom eating it. He hands it to you, then returns to his kitchen counter, plating a second bowl for himself.
After finishing the second twirl, he carelessly tosses his carving fork into the sink, opening another drawer to grab two forks for eating.
“Come on. You don’t want it to get cold,” he encourages, handing you one of the forks. 
He waits patiently for you to try it first, so you dig your fork in, creating a spaghetti twirl that hugs the fork, before raising it up to your lips. You open your mouth, taking a bite, before closing your eyes in absolute bliss.
“I can’t fucking stand you.”
He smiles, and it’s the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face this whole week. 
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I mean. Fuck you. Like… absolutely fuck you.”
He laughs, finally picking up his own fork and digging into the second bowl he’s plate for himself. 
Holy fuck, is it out of this world.
“Like, do you think they’re such a thing as a talent aggression? Like a cute aggression, only I want to squeeze your head off because you’re so damn talented-kind of aggression?” you pitch your idea to him, playfully. 
He laughs, a blush spreading across his cheeks, “Uh… no. I don’t think so.” 
Carmy rests his back against the counter, as you eat together, side by side. You eat quietly, exchange looks and quiet giggles as the two of you finish your pasta, slurping up the cheesy, egg-yolk coated noodles. When you finish your bowl, you put it down on the counter next to you, throwing your head back with a sigh. 
“Thank you,” you say, fully satisfied as you feel the dopamine rush of eating carbs. 
“That good, huh?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his face. 
“So good,” you exhale happily, as you rest your head on his shoulder. “And you know it, you asshole.” 
He chuckles, turning his head towards you just as you lift your head off of his shoulder, your faces mere inches away from each other. You watch as his face turns a few shades darker, the blush across his cheeks running through his whole face. 
Are you two fucking idiots to pretend that you were just friends?
Yeah. Yes, you are.
“Sorry, I’m, I didn’t mean to um,” he stutters, beginning to pull away from you.
“Wait,” you call out, reaching out to stop him. You grab his arm. 
And there it is again… the tension. That thing that, even when you had talked it out, has remained between you two. He stops moving, his eyes fixated on your hand – the one that’s reached for him. The one that feels hot against his skin. 
“Carm, I-. Um, I’ve really missed…” you stammer through, trying not to sound as breathless as you feel. 
I’ve really missed you.
“... your carbonara.” He looks up at you with those beautifully sad, cerulean blue eyes, and if you weren’t breathless before, you certainly are now. 
“You should make this more often,” is all you manage to get out, and you know you sound helpless. 
He doesn’t know what to say back. That he can hear the ache in your voice – a yearning for him that he never imagined anyone could ever have for him. That it’d be world war three, trying to get a carbonara on the dinner menu. That screaming would ensue over a goddamn emulsion. That there’d be no way to pull this off authentically, and that he’d have to use heavy cream, and no fucking way would he compromise on that. 
On your favorite fucking dish. 
That he only has these ingredients on hand because he went out and bought them in preparation for your visit. 
That he only got them for you. 
Because he maybe only wants to make carbonara for you, and only you, for forever and ever. 
That he’s missed you too, and that wanting you is one of the scariest things he’s ever felt. 
His eyes flicker from your hand, the one still holding onto him, and then back to your face. He’s not sure what possesses him to do it, but he can hear his brother’s voice in his head, let it rip, pushing him to lean in – even closer towards you. You wrap your fingers around his arm, encouraging him closer to you – if it’s even possible. Your foreheads meet and it’s as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. It’s like your vision narrows and the dimly lit apartment has faded away behind you. 
It’s just you and him. 
You feel dizzy – in the most delicious way possible.
You’re not sure who moves in first, but the tip of his nose is ever so gently bumping against yours. You brush the side of your nose against his, neither of you daring to take a breath. 
“Carm?”
He doesn’t answer, so you gently begin to leave a kiss against the corner of his mouth. 
“This okay?”
Then the side of his top lip. 
“Mhm,” he nods, eager to continue where this is going. 
Then you pull back, pulling him towards you so that, as you remain perched on top of his kitchen countertop, he fits perfectly between your knees. You lean in to kiss him, and this time, it’s not as hesitant… not as cautious as you’ve both been. 
No, these kisses are different, each one opening up the door to more and more – more want, more need, more lust – and as it blooms, as it blossoms, you feel Carmy’s hand move gingerly to cradle your face as you fall down the rabbit hole. Your fingers tangle into his blonde curls allowing your sheer want for him to consume you. It’s lips, and tangled tongues, and tentative, soft moans as you continue to pull each other closer and closer.
And you slowly begin to understand: the lingering tension, the avoidance of labeling you from his brother-in-law, why he’s been terrified to say a damn thing to you this entire week.
As much as you tried, and as much as he’s tried, neither of you had put that night behind you. 
Sure, it was shitty timing, and sure he wasn’t in the right headspace then. But now? 
Now, could be different, if you’d let it. 
Carmy pulls away from you, reluctantly, his face hot before asking, “You uh, you wanna take this somewhere else?”
His tone is hopeful, as if he’s the teenage dirtbag asking the prom queen out – like if you heard him, and you laughed in his face, he simply wouldn’t survive it. 
But your response is quite the opposite, and he feels silly for worrying, as you manage a breathy ‘yes’ going back in for one more kiss. He gives you some space to hop off the counter and you grab his hand, leading him towards his bedroom. It’s not a huge place, so you put two and two together about where that is. Carmy leaves the lights off in his bedroom, the only glimmer of light either of you can see comes from the living room lamps, and the kitchen overhead. 
With his hand in yours, you pull him towards you again, and he’s more than happy to let you lead. You begin to kiss him, taking note of how perfectly his top lip feels nestled in between yours. He follows you down to his bed, hesitant to put his full body weight on top of you. You giggle into the kiss, pulling him down to you. 
“I’m not a porcelain doll, Carm,” you tease, gently. 
You feel his lips twist into a smile against yours, as he begins to leave sloppier, wetter kisses down your neck. You allow him to explore as his hesitation lessens, his hands beginning to bunch up the hemline of your shirt. Higher and higher. And before you know it, you’re taking it off, impatiently throwing it somewhere you’ll barely remember in the light of day. You pull Carmy back down for another kiss, this time with a little more intensity, as he covers his body with yours, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of newly revealed skin that he possibly can. 
You’re not sure when his shirt joined yours on the floor but before it registers, you’re running your fingers across the muscles of his back, exploring each peak and valley. You hiss in pure pleasure as he pulls down one of the cups of your bra, his tongue running across one of your nipples. You can feel him smile against your skin, a well-won reaction from the pleasure he’s giving you. His other hand reaches up to give equal attention to your other breast, and moments later, you’re both impatiently pulling your bra off. 
“Wanna try something,” Carmy murmurs, his eyes meeting yours. 
You can feel the wet heat pooling between your legs as you breathe out, “Okay.”
The anticipation is building in your body and you feel like your head might explode. Carmy busies his mouth once again, leaving kisses down your torso as his hands begin to fiddle with the button on your jeans. You giggle, more than willing to help him out as he gets them undone, lifting your hips so that he can slide them off. 
He’s hesitant, and you’re trying your damnedest to be patient as he takes his sweet time to marvel at your almost-naked body. 
“So fucking perfect,” Carmy whispers, in between leaving wet, open mouthed kisses across your hip bones. You can hardly breathe, panting out loud as he continues his exploration. You make space for him between your legs as he slips his hands into your panties, dragging a finger up and down your dripping sex.
He checks in with you, gauging your reaction, and you nod as he continues what he’s doing. 
“This all for me?” he asks. He means for it to sound confident, but as the words leave him, he sounds more surprised than anything.
Before you can answer, he’s pushing your legs wider, his tongue gently running across your clit, causing you to cry out to the gods. He’s tentative at first, but it doesn’t take long for him to gather up the confidence to keep going, with the noises you’re making. At first it’s all tongue, licking, circling and flattening up against you, but you’re losing your mind as he adds his fingers back into the mix. His fingers are buried deep inside of you while his lips and tongue are bringing you far past your edge.
It’s as if the only words you can remember are his name, and ‘fuck.’ 
You feel his lips curl into a smile against you as he murmurs, “Just wanna make you feel good.”
You can feel it – your climax – building up, and Carmy groans, rutting his hips into the bed as he can no longer ignore how hard he is. 
“Carmy, yes. Don’t stop, please. I’m-,” you beg, your voice shaking.
And he has no intention of stopping till he gets what he wants – till he makes you cum. He works you through your orgasm, groaning against you as you cum on his tongue and around his fingers. You swear for a moment that you can’t hear a single thing as stars fill your vision. As you come to, it starts with only the sounds of the heavy pants that escape your mouth. Carmy sits up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. 
“Holy fuck,” you say, breathless. 
Carmy lays over you once again, kissing you, and you can taste yourself on his lips. 
Your hands fumble with the button on his jeans and you order, no patience left in a single cell of your body, “Off. These need to come off.”
He chuckles, hurrying through the removal of his jeans. You’re so eager to feel the weight of his body on top of yours again that you pull him back down to you before he’s even able to properly take them off. 
He’s kissing you again as you reach down, grabbing his hard length through his underwear. He’s thicker than you remember. You slip your hand into the waistband of his briefs, causing him to grunt. He hisses your name as you wrap your soft hand around his dick, bucking his hips into your hand. 
“Do you have a condom?” you ask, desperately. “I wanna feel you, Carm.”
“Mhm.”
He doesn’t keep condoms around. It’s not like this happens very often for him. But Richie had thrown a pack of condoms at his head the minute he found out that the friend that was coming to visit was a girl. Richie had teased him with some stupid quip like ‘don’t forget to wrap it up, cousin. No one wants a mini-eleven madison park dickhead running around here.’
He hadn’t expected this to happen. But it’s not like he’d thrown the condoms away either – tucking them into the single drawer of his nightstand. 
You wait as he reaches over and pulls out a condom from his nightstand. You want to ask him about why he has them, but as long as you get to feel him, you’re not sure you care. 
You’ve been here before with him, but this is different. He sits up on his knees and you follow him, pulling his briefs down properly and giving him time to roll on the condom. He follows you back down onto the bed as you wrap a leg around his waist so that he can fit perfectly between yours. 
He waits a beat, and then you feel his thick tip pushing against you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. He rubs the head up and down your slick core, before slowly beginning to push into you. 
You both gasp at the feel of each other. 
“Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he moans, dropping his head into the crevice of your neck. He hopes you can’t tell how utterly helpless he feels.
You hiss at the way he’s stretching you open, the pads of your fingertips digging into his arms. You’re holding onto his arms for dear life as he fills you all the way to the hilt. You let out another moan as you as he stays there for a moment. 
“This okay?” 
You nod, pulling him down to kiss you again. You start moving your hips against his as Carmy gives you shallow thrusts. 
“Hold on,” he breathes out, holding your hips down for a moment. “Just-, just give me a second.” 
And you do, allowing him to collect himself, before he’s giving you shallow, gentle thrusts. 
But you’re in desperate need for more. 
“Carmy?”
“Yeah?”
“Fucking move.” 
Finally, finally, he pulls almost all the way out, before driving himself back into you, earning a cry from you as the pleasure is just too much. 
“Oh fuck!”
You want more. You want everything and all of him and so much more. And he gives it to you, continuing to check in that what he’s doing is okay. Before you know it, you’re begging him to go faster, harder, convincing him that you’re not fucking breakable and that you want more, grasping at the sheets and his biceps, and his curls –  anything you can hang on to as he’s bringing you over your edge again for the second time tonight. 
You’re crying out his name as you cum, and Carmy thinks it may be the sweetest, best thing he’s ever heard in his life. He fucks you through your climax, beginning to slow down the pace of this thrusts. He pauses, kisses you long and hard, passionately pausing just to be in this moment with you. 
“Carm?” you manage to get out. You wonder if he can hear how much you want him just by the sound of your voice. 
“Hm?”
“I wanna ride you,” you say, and you can feel that your words have gone straight to his dick as he twitches inside of you.
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
The two of you clumsily change positions – him on his back staring up at you in awe, like how the hell does that perfect, beautiful, creature want to be here with me now? You reach down, guiding him back inside of you and you’re both gasping at the contact. You begin grinding your hips against him, watching his eyes roll back as you make your movement a little bigger. 
“Jesus Christ,” he sighs out, the pleasure of it all taking over his brain. 
You know he won’t last much longer as you begin to ride him, rocking your hips back and forth. Carmy hands are on your hips, then running up and down your torso, grabbing your tits, and then they’re pulling you down to him for another passionate makeout as you continue your movements. You can feel his thrusts becoming more erratic as he starts thrusting up into you. You keep riding him, reaching for his hands and placing them along your hips. 
“Show me how you want it,” you whisper in between kisses. 
“I think this is nice,” he manages to say. 
“Show me how you want it, Carmen,” you demand, emphasizing your need for him with use of his full name. “Let me make you cum.” 
You squeeze his hands against your ass, egging him on, and he’s not sure what he’s done to deserve this. He holds onto your hips, before thrusting up into you, setting a bruising pace as your moans become louder and louder. You scream out his name, as he brings you closer and closer to your high, chasing his with him. 
He grunts, his thrusts becoming sloppier, messier, more desperate and you let him use your body in the most delicious ways. 
“Are you gonna cum?”
Instead of answering, he’s driving into you like a fucking mad man, and you’re riding him through his high till you both collapse. 
Carmy lets out a strangled moan as he cums, so you begin to slow your movements. You’re breathless, hunched over him, your foreheads touching as you exchange a laugh.
It's a kind of 'I can't believe we just did that' kind of laugh.
“Holy shit,” he says, shaking his head. 
“Yeah,” you agree, a stupid, blissed out smile on both of your faces.
“That was-.”
“Yeah.”
You get off of him, allowing him to get up and dispose of the condom. He’s not gone long before he returns to you, wrapping the both of you up in his sheets and into his arms. It feels unlike anything you’ve ever had. 
It feels… magnificent. 
“Stay with me tonight?” he asks, leaving a few soft kisses along your shoulder. 
“After that?” you giggle, as his lips against your neck begin to tickle. “You’re not getting rid of me, Berzatto. Not a fucking chance.”
read: part five
taglist: @lazypeachsoul @bookwormvoyageuse @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney
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svmjaeyvn · 6 months
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love maze, s.jy.
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chapter nine pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: tbd (series)
masterlist
genre: college!au, mutual friends, fake dating, smut.
synopsis: an unfortunate encounter, drunken mistakes, and a sort of (definitely) stalker leads jake sim ‘dating’ his best friend’s childhood crush.
or, your life gets intertwined with a rich boy’s in attempt to not get sued by his crazy personal fangirl and like with all good cliches, sex overcomplicates things.
contents: smut, sort of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers pipeline, childhood best friend!jay, mentions of best friend! yunjin, curly haired & mixed reader, uni!au, rich nepo baby!jake, enha frat boys, lots of kissing, fake dating turning into fwb real quick, totally way too into it for it to be fake early on, big booty reader that’s jake’s obsessed with, partying and alcohol use, slight violence, he fell first and harder trope, stem bf & writer gf, (kinda overly) possessive jake, some angst to spice things up, daddy issues, hyper independent reader who struggles with her feelings, fluff and happy ending!!
a/n: hello~ i’ve never been a tumblr girly but i have went through my w*ttpad era back in 2018 so bare with me y’all. this will be a series but not that long (i hope) so pls look forward to it. warning tags will be placed before each “chapter” to specify what to expect. pls pls reblog and interact, i’d love to have feedback and see what your thoughts are. okay! yay, for now enjoy and thank you sm :D
MDNI, 18+
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CHAPTER NINE: JEALOUSY
previous masterlist next
word count: 4.1k
warnings: minjun is being a stalker, that’s sort of it??
a/n: IM SORRY IVE BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG. i’m working + doing an internship at the same time so im exhausted everyday since being an adult SUCKS so i’ve neglected writing (though i have a new idea for a smau lol) and this not that great but i wanted to provide something for you guys </3 jake is down horrendous and not even hiding it now it’s crazy
"PLEASE STOP STARING," Ni-ki whined, throwing an ice cube in Jake's direction who was perched at the counter with a giddy smile. You were on the other side of the store, in the midst of barring out drinks before turning to help your coworker with a unsatisfied customer.
It was different to see you in your element, of course to you it being a mere barista job but Jake couldn't deny how much a leadership position suited you. You were good at quite literally everything, barely paying him mind when he waltzed in 20 minutes ago due to the afternoon rush but seeming calm and collected as you handled the line of drinks that seemed never ending. You looked as pretty as ever in his eyes, your haired pulled up by the clip in your hair and bare skin that seemed to be glowing.
You were called in last minute by a fellow shift as they weren't able to come in due to an emergency. Knowing Ms. Cho would've been the one to cover, something you couldn't bare to make her do as she was meant to take the week off due to spraining her wrist, and not wanting to leave Ni-ki hanging you canceled on the previous study-date you had scheduled with Jake much to his disappointment.
Lo and behold though, said boy decided that he had all the time in the world to wait for you. After you called him on your break, excited that a coworker would be coming in to do the closing tasks, telling him you'd be off at 6:30 instead of 10, Jake stopped by an hour before your shift would end deeming that allowing him to treat you to dinner would make up for the raincheck.
"Bro honestly, I know she's your girlfriend but can't you go sit down at least," Ni-ki's voice breaks his thoughts once more. Jake merely rolled his eyes, waving off the boy who looked exasperated by his presence.
"Yah, whatever. You're just bitter 'cause you’re bitchless," Jake began to tease, watching as the younger boy rolled his eyes and discretely flipped him off without the other customers taking note.
There was a familiar jingle from the door, Ni-ki's eyes looking past him to greet whoever walked in but his face turned into one of visible disgust. Immediately making his way in your direction without a word, Jake curiously turned around with his brows frowned to see what caused such a reaction.
A small scoff left Jake's lips, watching Minjun b-line to where you were behind the bar with Ni-ki glued to your side and staring him down like a guard dog. A small smirk picks at his lips, Jake waiting patiently, watching from afar to see what he planned on saying as you'd be able to handle it yourself.
"___," Minjun spoke, attempting to gain your attention but you merely lifted your gaze for a second as you focused on the drinks you had sequenced. "Can we talk?"
"I'm busy," You said dryly, sending him a pointed look as you were on shift quite literally in the middle of working. "If you need something you can ask my other staff to help you,"
"Are you seriously going to ignore me?"
"Are you seriously showing up to my job when I told you to leave me alone?" You shot back, brow raising in disbelief. "It's harassment, do you want me to call the cops?"
Minjun bit his lip, seemingly collecting his thoughts to carefully piece what he intended to say next. "You're ignoring my texts, how else am I supposed to talk to you?"
"I blocked you," You answer with a small shrug. "I don't want to talk to you. We have no reason to either way, it was your idea to move on with our lives in the first place so I don't see what you need from me now,"
"It was a mistake," Minjun attempts but a loud scoff comes from your end at his words. Feeling yourself grow more and more annoyed, you take a second to collect your thoughts, having to silently remind yourself that there were a handful of other customers that you still needed to be portrayed to in a professional light.
Your eyes flickered to the left, feeling the familiar gaze boring into your side. You met Jake's look, his brows slightly pinched as he held an unreadable expression glancing over Minjun. His arms were crossed against his chest, leaned against the front counter while his head tilted in the smallest of ways meeting your eyes. Silently indicating whether of not you wanted him to intervene, you shook your head, turning over to Ni-ki who was still on gaurd just a step behind you.
"Can you take over for me?" You ask the younger boy, his eyes softening as he glanced down to you with a small nod. Telling Sooyun the same, you leave the two on the floor to handle the customer flow and walk away from Minjun without a word. He attempted to follow along the counter that kept you separated, only to stop short noting how you met Jake at the break that separated the workers and customer side.
"You okay?" Jake asks softly, his hand finding its place in your own as he traced his thumb over your palm in attempt to offer some ease to your mind.
"I don't know why he keeps trying," You mumble out, swallowing the lump in your throat while Jake pursed his lips. You had to admit, no matter how unaffected you attempted to seem, having Minjun back and weaseling his way into your life was slowly opening up old wounds that never fully healed. It felt exhausting seeing his face, much less feeling trapped in your own workplace since that seemed to be his resort to finding you no matter how many hints you've given to leave you be.
"You want me to call the guys and we can jump him out back?" Jake offers, the teasing in his voice caused you to laugh though the glint in his eyes made it hard for you to tell if he was entirely joking. "I could take him on my own but I'm sure Jay wants a few hits at him anyway,"
"So does Ni-ki," You snicker, glancing over to the boy who had his eyes trained on Minjun with a menacing glare. "I don't have the money to bail all seven of you out though so let's not do that,"
A cocky smile fell upon Jake's lips knowing well enough his next words would cause you to grimace. "It's okay baby, I'm rich remember?"
You roll your eyes but couldn't refrain from the small laugh that fell from your lips. "You're annoying," You huff, though the giggle that filtered through your words had Jake smiling from ear to ear. Leaning closer, he's quick to place a kiss to your lips, your eyes widening as you pulled away with a tsk. "I'm on the clock, stop making me look like a bad worker,"
"No one's looking," Jake reassures, not even sparing a glance around the room but he's sure of himself. His hands fell to your hips, pulling you in closer and technically he was right, the large pastry case and stack of boxes that you had yet to be able to put away had blocked a significant amount of view of where you two stood, someone would have had to come around the corner to see you two if they really wanted to.
A clear of someone's throat caused the two of you to pull away from the giddy bubble you were in. Your annoyance flooded back in a second while Jake lazily looked over his shoulder, his eyes lighting up taking note of Minjun who stood with a dark expression.
"What's up man?" Jake smiled, turning as he said so but still keeping one arm draped around your waist though you shifted slightly in your spot. His grip tightened feeling how you attempted to move, squeezing your hip as a silent way to tell you to stay in place at his side. "You need something?"
"Can you give us a minute?" Minjun's words were short and clipped, the visible annoyance dripping from his persona.
"Don't think so," He hummed with the click of his tongue. "M'names Jake," Holding out his hand with a cheeky smile, Jake waited for Minjun to introduce himself. You had to refrain from the laugh that wanted to spill from your lips, the obviously annoying but polite tactic one you wouldn't have guessed he'd play but it seemed to work better than being possessive or immediately hostile.
"Minjun," Was all he replied with, not bothering to complete the handshake Jake intended. Turning his gaze to you, he near pleaded in a softer tone. "Can we just talk?"
Jake let out a loud sigh, dropping his hand with the shake of his head. "You know, man, I wouldn't have held nothing against you but you're really making my girl uncomfortable," His previous bubbly expression was gone, now replaced with a bored one that shamelessly glanced over Minjun. "You know me personally, I don't go for girls I broke up with, especially after she told me to leave her alone and she has a new man. That's just me though,"
"No offense man, but I know you two just got together. Your new relationship doesn't compare to us," Minjun shrugs while you let out a laugh of disbelief. You and Jake were more comfortable together, by miles, in a short amount of time even if your relationship was based on a facade. After the first two months with Minjun, it felt as though you were walking on eggshells everyday to keep him around, a feeling you remember all too well and ridicule yourself for staying in for so long.
"I mean, you're the ex for a reason right? Our relationship s’not supposed to be like yours," Jake shrugs, a humorless laugh left his lips.
"You guys don't even make sense together!" Minjun was now speaking to you, gesturing between you both with an exasperated expression. "His life is completely different from yours and you know it, why waste time now when it won't even work out,"
You frowned yours brows, not knowing how much he had looked into Jake but either way, being so ambient on your differences seemed to rub you the wrong way. What exactly was he entailing? The fact that Jake was a party guy or he was rich? You grew up attached to the hip with Jay, sure you weren't directly apart of that life but you did know how to act with a cocktail dress and dinning etiquette when you needed to. You truly lacked nothing if the relationship was real and so far, Jake didn't either.
"It's cute to know you've been thinking about me," Before you were able to voice your thoughts, Jake beat you to it. His tone was teasing, though there was a slight edge to it indicating that the cat and mouse play going back and forth was something he began to grow tired of. His had squeezed your hip, somehow subconsciously knowing that your agitation grew as well, it a silent reminder that he was there for you.
Minjun scoffed, seemingly ready to retort but Jake shook his head. "You know, I don't really like being a dick and all," He starts, a small huff of air leaving his lips as if it pained him to continue. Jake's eyes flickered to you, he winked before the bored look was sent back toward Minjun. "But I do take advantage of the benefits that come from my family. Let's just make it easier on all of us since getting the lawyers involved is always so messy, yeah?"
Your eyes widened slightly, certainly not having any thought of any legal precedent but the threat should've been more than enough to get his point across. You felt a shiver run up your spine, thinking back to weeks ago when you got yourself into the situation you were now. She totally would've sued me.
There was a clear of the throat that broke the tension between you three. Ni-ki making his presence known as he sends Minjun a rather large, but most obviously fake, smile.
"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave since I've had a few customer complaints from the situation that's occurring," He says in his peppy customer service voice, the faux sympathy in his tone adding salt to the wound. Looking around, you take note of the lie considering the lobby had cleared out significantly and not a single person in sight was paying any mind to what was occurring in the corner but you were certainly thankful for the deescalation.
Minjun doesn't say a word. His eyes lock with yours, the silent communication causing you to feel uneasy. For a split second, you almost felt bad for him seeing the look of pleading sincerity, for a second he seemed like the boy you once knew and you couldn't deny the slight tug in your heart that longed for the past. But as Jakes’ hand made its presences know on your back, you shook out of the temporary daze, you subtly moved behind him, using Jake as a shield of sorts and looking away.
You weren't naive enough to fall for that. And your thoughts proved right as Minjun's expression changed in an instant, the look of anger and annoyance familiar but he merely turned and made his way out of the shop without hesitation.
The bitter feeling caused your stomach to turn, picking at the skin of your fingers as you pulled out your phone to check the time.
"You okay noona?" Ni-ki carefully asked, His brows were pinched, a slight frown at his lips taking note of your visibly discomfort.
You nod, placing a smile on your features but it didn't quite reach your eyes. You looked behind him, seeing Sooyun working by herself. "I'm alright, I need to finish my pull before Hejin comes in so support where you can for now," You delegate, already heading toward the back room while footsteps followed soon after.
Jake sighed watching you walk away. He didn't know the full story, certainly didn't want to know the details of how in love you were, but he did know that Minjun was important enough to still bother you after some time apart. A small part of him was selfish, never wanting you to think of anyone like that but him, even though your relationship wasn't even real in the first place, but he knew that was his own jealousy.
The larger part of him felt upset for you though, the crestfallen expression you held more than enough for him to want to hold you and wash all your worries away. In a perfect world, Jake would make sure you'd never feel sad again. He vows to never be the one responsible for your tears, and if he were he'd kick himself and beg for the room in your heart to forgive him.
You stopped by the back freezer, facing the stainless steel doors and you could see Jake's reflection behind you. "I'm alright," You repeat, not having the confidence to turn around knowing your eyes were glossing over and the lump in your throat grew.
Jake hummed, watching you from afar. He watched as you began to count the frozen pastries, having to go over twice losing your train of thought and seemingly looking around aimlessly. You let out a sigh, leaning your head against the frozen rack as you shut your eyes, the cold air that wrapped around your body caused goosebumps to form along your arms, though it did well in stopping the tears that were built up to the brim.
"You know, you're technically not supposed to be back here," You mumble, a hint of amusement in your words though you were rather dejected.
Jake chuckled, shaking his head while you couldn't see it. The two of you stood in silence, not knowing what to say that would make it better. Heavy footsteps sounded as someone entered the back of the house, you peaking from behind the freezer door while Jake straightened up.
Hejin pointed a finger at you as she pulled her apron over her head. Your brows frowned, clicking on the tablet that was stuck to the door to see it only be 5:50. Her keys jangled in her pocket, the lollipop in her mouth muffling her words. "Go home,"
"What?" You let out a small laugh, amused by the loud groan she let out upon her apron getting stuck while pulling it down. "It's not 6:30,"
"I'm here now so go," Hejin huffs, pulling at her ponytail as she nods towards Jake, a silent acknowledgment to his presence but not bothering to ask why he was beside you. "I saw creeps-a-lot in the parking lot. The kid and Sooyun were blowing up my phone to get me here so I chased him away. Go home and relax, I'll make a incident report to let everyone and Mama Cho know to not talk about you and refuse him service from now on,"
Your lips pull into a frown, the tears once again welding up in your eyes. You covered your face out of embarrassment, Hejin clicking her tongue as she waved you off.
"Ay, don't cry," She tuts. "He's not worth it, new boyfriend hug her!" Hejin directs, gesturing between you and Jake causing you to let out a laugh. Jake tilted his head, his arms open as you reluctantly stepped into his embrace. You refused to look at him directly, hiding behind your hands though you could see the fondness in his expression as he stared down at you. "Good, now get out of here. Pretty girls should never cry over ugly men,"
With that, Hejin was out onto the floor. You stifled your laughter, heart pulling at the thought of your work family. She, in particular, was known to be rough around the edges, not one to show praise or direct affection but small acts like these were truly the most meaningful. You made a mental note to treat them in the future, thankful for the saving grace.
Jake pulled away from the hug slight, a small smile perking at his lips as he tilted his head. He gently pulled away your hands from your face, wiping away the few stray tears with the same fond look.
"You know, I don't know how to feel about you crying over another man," He teased causing you to roll your eyes. "Guess I have a lot of work to do to make you forgive him,"
"Forgive?" You echo, raising a brow not following his words.
Jake nods. "You know, for being an idiot but at least it allowed for me and you which is like, a million times better," He says in the most obvious voice causing you to snicker. "Forgive but not forget, or whatever it is that people say,"
"Have you been looking at pinterest quotes?" You laugh while Jake begins to nod wholeheartedly.
"You put me on, it's honestly so chill scrolling. I have like, five different boards I've made so far,"
"Rookie numbers," You tease causing him to mock offense.
"They all have certain aesthetics and are listed in order," He offers causing you to hum.
You nod in approval. "Better,"
Noting that your mood had seem to raise, Jake leans in, placing a small peck to the tip of your nose causing you to let out a small squeal. Your face scrunches up, pulling away from him while he lets out a laugh.
"C'mon, you owe me your time and I think I have the perfect idea to get your pretty little mind off everything,"
"YOU’RE JOKING?"
"What?"
You sent Jake a pointed look, smiling down at the excited animal that jumped into your arms, licking the skin of your cheek while your heart nearly bursted at the sight of her tail wagging so happily. "We've been faking it for over a month and you decided to just tell me you had a dog?"
"Her name's Layla," He laughs, crouching down to the level which you were sat on the floor. As soon as you walked into the door of the unfamiliar apartment, you were greeted by soft paws jumping at your leg along with excited barks for attention. "This is my brother's place, she's a family dog but he has her most of the time since my parents are always out of town. He's on a trip with his friends so he asked me to watch her for the week," Jake cooed as he pet Laylas fur, eyes full of affection and love as she leaned into his touch.
“I’ll watch her for the week,” You smile, gaining her attention once more as you scratched at the spot just behind Laylas’ ears. Her eyes shut as you did so, a small giggle leaving your lips as the dog visibly relaxed to your petting. “I’ll keep her company while you party or whatever you do in that frat house,”
Jake rolled his eyes, his view set on you but you were far too focused on Layla to care. “I haven’t gone to a party in weeks, and if I do you’re with me,” He says pointedly as you merely hum.
“Exactly, you can go do what you want. I’ll stay here with the cutest little puppy I’ve ever seen,” The latter half of your sentence was spoken in a high voice, cooing at Layla who seemed to be happily responsive to it.
Though he liked seeing how well you got along with his childhood pet, Jake tsked. Maybe it was a bad idea bringing you to see her, all of your attention would go to the little border collie instead of him which, admittedly, he couldn’t have.
“What I want,” Jake starts, leaning over to flood your view. “Is for you to not love my dog more than me,” He finished, dangerous close to your lips as you blinked, a small snort leaving your lips.
“Well for one, I barely tolerate you so Layla wins by a long shot,” You tease causing his lips to pout. Lightly pushing Jake away, he ends up sitting directly in front of you, Layla happily pouncing into his lap but still begging for you to provide her with scratches as she rolled over onto her back to expose her stomach. “And two, you can’t be jealous over your own dog. She’s just too cute,”
Jake sighed half heartedly. “You kicking me to the curb now for my dog?”
“Precisely,” You nod, a wide grin playing at your lips that you were unable to resist. It was still between the two of you for a moment, Jake taking the silence to gently place Layla down onto the ground beside you. You rose a brow, noting how he inched closer causing you to move back. “Hey~”
His arms were suddenly thrown around your body, one around your waist while the other was behind your head, blocking the impact of him suddenly tackling you to the hardwood floor. Your laughter filled the air, arms stuck under the weight of his chest and your faces inches apart.
“Too bad, you’re not allowed to get rid of me,” Jake huffs though there was an amused smile playing at his lips. “Say you like me more,”
You gaped in disbelief. “Are you serious?” The response to your question ended up with Jake’s fingers dancing along the skin of your waist, your shirt riding up and him knowing how ticklish you were as you began to squirm beneath him. “H-hey! Okay, s-stop—”
“Say it,” Jake taunts, his laughter mixing with yours.
“O-okay—”
Layla’s loud barks suddenly broke the air before the view of her jumping onto Jake’s head was seen. Your laughs were now from seeing how he yelped at the sudden help you received, rolling off of your body and with Layla still attacking his face with an abundance of kisses, you sat up. Now straddling Jake’s waist, you returned the favor of poking your fingers into his side, moving until you found a spot by his ribs that caused him to squirm around.
“Hey! You can’t team up against me,” Jake called out, unable to move either of you due to the way you sat and how Layla was now perched on his chest to get a better angle of sloppy kisses that he attempted to block. “She’s trying to lick my nose! Baby please—”
“What? I’m giving you attention like you wanted,”
my tags!! @slutforsjy @jaklvbub @whowantshota @addictedtohobi @coolwitu @simjyunnie @kgneptun @graythecoffeebean @143ikeu @zyvlxqht @tesywesy @nxzz-skz @aishisgrey @enczen @vanvity @dreamiestay @caitysdelusions @ikkeumyluv @v3lv3tsin
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thewinchestah · 8 months
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"INTERMISSION" - ALASTOR X READER
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Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: ,18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, BDSM, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, Possesive! Alastor, Jealous!Alastor, Protective!Alastor, masturbation, I didn't proof read this, english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here, etc etc etC
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Part I  | Part 2  | Part 4
A/N: Hello,hello everyone! Again, thank you all so much for the amazing reception to "Good things come for those who wait". I'm truly touched by your words and praise. I never really tought my writing would see the light of day at this point, nor this much love. My biggest thanks to everyone who takes the time to leave a comment.
So, I'm a bit self concious about this piece. "Intermission" is supossed to be a light break from the previous two fics. A breath of fresh, sex smelling air as I write the next long chapter. (It's gonna be nasty). My intent with this fic was to make it kinda chaotic, kinda rushed like Alastor's mind would be as he masturbates himself at the thought of you and what you are doing to him.
I truly hope I can do your hopes and expectations for my writting justice. I really appreciate feedback on this one.
As always, my special thanks goe to my lovely friend @smallershorteranduncut, who always support my ideas. Te amo amiga <3
Taglist: @markster666 @jyoongim @stygianoir  @pepperycookie @fraspent @aether-th3-enby  @lady-valtieri . If the tags aren't working or you wanna be tagged, let me know.
PART I | PART II
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Alastor considered himself a smart man, a cunning, self-sufficient, resourceful man. So, naturally, the irony of him being locked inside the bathroom, his cock in his hands while he tortures himself with thoughts of you made him frustrated at best, murderous at worst. 
He hates everything about it, he hates to admit that his rut indeed makes him on edge and out of control, he hates to admit that before he met you the ways he dealt with his rut were… undignified. And he hates even more admitting that since he had you at his every whim, to fuck, to breed, to inflict the most depraved ways of torture his rut was becoming a pleasurable thing. All because of you, only because of you.
He had quite literally just fucked you so hard you passed out, his name a scream on your lips, so loud heaven might have heard it. Some part of Alastor wishes that heaven heard it, so they know they made a mistake, so they know they let one of the most sacred things to exist get down here. In hell, with him. Your heavenly body is his to do as he pleases, to break it, desecrate its holiness as he fucks you into submission, granting him a relief so pure, so all consuming that it shouldn’t even be allowed in hell. And they will never correct this mistake.
Some part of Alastor wishes no know never knew about how you always make a mess of yourself for him, how you gladly sprawl yourself open for him, eyes lustful and hopeful that if you let him take it out just a little more on you tonight he will send you over the edge with those two little words: good. girl. 
And what a perfect good girl you were, doe eyes always seeking for his across any room, with adoration, with barely hidden lust, with love. Such a contrast when compared to his eyes, burning red from desire, anger, lack of empathy. Red condescending eyes filled with excitement about what he is going to do to you, what he is making you endure for him.
It doesn’t make it any easier on Alastor’s painfully hard cock that you are sleeping just a door away after a rough fuck, his seed still coating your thighs.
He flicks his wrist up and down his shaft, slowly. 
Just as slow as how his cock stretched your tight cunt, inch by inch when he first took you.  You weren’t nearly as wet as you should be for the first time taking his cock but you darling thing decided to break one of his rules. Your legs desperately spreading in a futile attempt to accommodate him, the delicious fear in your eyes as you realized what you’ve gotten yourself into, completely at his mercy, enduring the pain of being broken by his monster cock. The scream you let out when he buried himself to the hilt inside you, you liked it even when it was hurting, because the pain Alastor inflicted on you was ten times better than any pleasure your silly mortal lovers had ever given you. 
The Radio Demon has a knuckle white grip on his cock now, even with hands as big as his, Alastor is having trouble fully closing his hand around the swollen member, his need to claim, to mark, to breed you strong as ever. Precum leaks for the engorged red tip and a hiss escapes his lips, the feeling of powerlessness consuming him in waves of a maddening, unprecedented carnality. The only thing the mighty demon overlord can do to mimic the divine feeling of your cunt being spreading the glossy drop around his overly sensitive tip, grip his cock even tighter as he strokes himself harder and faster, like a maniac. 
How the mighty have fallen, he thinks to himself, he’s completely cunt struck by you.
Naturally, he’s gonna make you pay for it. 
Alastor fucks himself fast and hard, trying to pic up the breakneck speed he usually does when he’s burying himself inside your heat, his grip sometimes painful. Exactly how the way he wants to be next time he fucks you.
The raw carnality consuming him is too overbearing, so overbearing he closes his burning red eyes as his brain process the severity of his situation: he found the perfect plaything, a deliciously submissive doe for him to breed until she’s numb with the feeling of his cock thrusting into her, completely filled up by his seed. It made his rut more bearable, it made his rut pleasurable, everytime he needed to scratch that primal need you’re always there, always ready to completely  submit to him, to completely ruin yourself for him. Alastor honestly thought having you always there, as fun as it was to toy with you that way, would make things better. But it actually made it worse. Because now he knows.
Oh fuck, now he knows.
More pre cum spills, running through Alastor’s claws, dripping and staining his pants, making a mess under him. But it’s not enough, because it will never be enough. It’s not your mess coating his cock, running through his claws, it’s not the sinful invitation of your wetness staining his clothes.
Realization hits him like a curse. 
His wrist flicks around his cock with a purpose: to find relief in pain. 
You’re the only thing he wants. You are the only woman he will ever want like that. You are the only one he wants to see the obscene amount of his seed dripping from a perfectly swollen red cunt. You are the only one who could possibly deserve this. Now he knows what it is like to feel, to want someone. To have an irrevocable connection. No one in heaven, hell, and all the other possible realms of creation have the right to even think of you in that way. You are his and that’s final.
Next time he takes you he will make sure you know that. 
Stroking himself erratically now, Alastor pictures you peacefully sleeping next door, luscious body sprawled on the bed like you don’t have a care in the world. He wants the first thing you feel when you open your eyes is fear. Good, you should feel scared. You should be very, very scared of what he is going to do to you. He hopes to relish in fear in your eyes as he enters your tight pussy, stretching your velvet walls apart in ways you’ve never felt before. Being obscenely broken to accommodate the girth of his rut swollen cock.
Fear, because you should be scared. Fear because you aren’t. Fear because as the realization that Alastor needs you terrifies him, the realization that you fucking love the pain of being a submissive slut to the Radio Demon will undo you, in unholy ways.
The scene of your ass on his lap, red with regret from his whipping and a symphony of your soft moans overrides his mind. You were sobbing from those little whips? He’s gonna double that. He’s gonna give you something to truly cry about. He’s gonna see you cum from the pain of being whipped into submission and his voice only. Because it is  what you deserve for making him feel like this. Because it is what you want.
He’s close now, he can tell. He’s gonna cum soon. And it is not going to be inside your pussy. Alastor is enraged about that. 
A clawed hand grips the wall besides him. He strokes himself at a merciless pace. Just as merciless as he is gonna be with you. He knows your body like the palm of the hand that is clawing the wall because of the maddening desire he has for you. He’s gonna lure you so you purposefully make a mistake. Just so you can give him the excuse to punish you into understanding that you are irrevocably his. He’s gonna take all of you as it is his right.
His cock twitches, claws scratch the posh wallpaper all the way down, he spills so much cum, all over his lap, his hand. 
The sight of Alastor’s flustered face, in post orgasmic daze after mercilessly touching himself at the thought of you is something you definitely should see. But he will never let you.
Because now his mind is clear, he knows it and delights in acceptance. You are his, his mate, his love. 
And he’s gonna take his sweet time torturing you into compliance and understanding. With pain, pleasure and all that is Alastor’s nature.
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hahaifolded · 30 days
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Can We Make This Work? (4)
Nanami Kento x POC!Fem Reader x Gojo Satoru (Masterlist) Chapter 4: Trouble in Paradise (Previous) (Next) Summary: Determined to befriend your husband, you tried surprising him. Warnings: Angst
It's been a month since you married Nanami Kento and to say it was blissful would be too kind. The first week or so was nice. After moving into the spare room of his apartment, you tried to get to know your husband, from riding to and from work together to cooking and eating together. You even tried picking up drinking to find more common ground with the man.
However, curses had another idea. By the second week, Yaga increased your workload , forcing you to stay in the field more, drastically cutting your time with Nanami. Which only left you with the morning rides to work which were always quiet since Nanami wasn't much of a morning person. And despite you best efforts, you couldn't fully break Nanami out of his shell.
Your goal wasn't to make the man fall in love with you. You weren't delusional. You knew he didn't want this so actual love was not going to blossom overnight. All you wanted was to be his friend. The world knows that you didn't have any at the moment.
Since being classified, everyone stayed clear of you. It seemed that everyone was either intimidated by you or feared you. Everyone avoided you like the plague, only speaking to you when necessary. You asked Yaga if you had done something, but he shooed you away, almost hesitant to speak on it.
Leaving you to walk on campus, in the city, everywhere alone. You've never felt lonelier. You were all by yourself in a new city with no one to confide in. All you had were curses.
That's why you so badly wanted to befriend Nanami. He was the only person who could possibly understand what you were going through. But it seemed that life had other plans.
That's why today you had a plan. You asked Yaga to leave your lunch open, a request he agreed to out of fear. After completing your morning missions, you asked Ijichi to take you to a bakery in town that you knew was your husband's favorite.
You noticed early on how much Nanami enjoyed food. While trying to get to know him, you had asked him about his favorite places to eat in the city and this bakery was up on his list. Now with his favorite sandwich in hand, you were going to surprise Nanami with lunch.
Your body buzzed in excitement as you walked towards the break room with the bag of goods. Maybe this can be a reoccurring thing. Maybe not everyday, but at least once a week, you giddily thought. Your mouth watered from the smell emitting from the bag. Both your mind and stomach were going to thank you later for this.
As you got closer to the break room, you could hear your husband's voice as well as three other male voices. It seems like they were deep in conversation.
"And then Nanami, he just... wow. Honestly, you really have to teach me how to punch like that," complemented a man. He sounded fairly young and jovial. You heard your husband hum, neither in agreement or disagreement.
"Okay, we get it, Ino! Nanami is super cool. We all should be like him," complained a third voice, one that you easily recognized as the second-year teacher, Kusakabe. You actually tried talking to him the other day, but when he heard you calling his name, he immediately turned around and ran away. It made you chuckle every time you thought about it.
Suddenly a recognizable laugh rang in the air. "This guy... please. That tie offsets any possibility of him being cool." From the laugh alone, you recognized it to be Gojo who you haven't seen since the day of your classification.
With a bag in hand and excitement in your heart, you were just a turn away from entering the break room. However, an interesting question made you pause.
"So Nanami, how's married life going?" asked Kusakabe with food in his mouth. Not going really. I mean we haven't had much time to hang so he's probably going to say--
"Horrible. I honestly don't want to talk about it," your husband admitted. Your chest tightened. You weren't expecting that.
"Really? She seems nice," said Ino in a surprised tone.
"Forget nice! If I was married to that, you would never hear me complain again in my life," shared Kusakabe. "You're just being dramatic. It can't be that--." Before he could finish, something slammed against the table, silencing everyone.
Nanami spat out with utter frustration, "You have absolutely no idea how much this marriage has inconvenienced my life. So don't dare try to say that I should be content just because she isn't a complete monster." You heard him pause to catch his breath.
"I mean marriage isn't easy," feebly added Ino.
"Yeah, but everyone else had a choice," bit back Nanami.
"What's so bad then?" asked Kusakabe.
"Where do I even start. She's always begging for attention. Is constantly asking questions. I can't even get a moment to myself without her popping up, begging to hang out." A deep breath followed. He started up again, slightly calmer. "You know, I used to find great comfort in my home, but now I feel suffocated in it as I know she will be there. I even had to ask Yaga to assign her on more missions so I can have some peace back home."
Hearing enough, you left and made your way back to your office.
-- -- --
I know things weren't ideal, but I didn't think they were that bad, you thought as you cradled your head in your hands. You sat in your office in complete silence to think about what you just heard.
Sure, neither of us wanted this. I mean we're both victims here, right? We could have made it work, no? The sandwiches were getting cold as they sat on your desk.
"Fuck!"
Of course things were never going to work out between you two. You were never going to be his friend and even less his lover. These things would never happen, because that meant that Nanami Kento had to like you, the insufferable foreign sorcerer that forced a man into a marriage that didn't benefit him.
He wasn't the problem, you were. While he opened his home to you, you only brought discomfort and misery to it. This was never going to work. No matter what you did. You will always be the woman that robbed him of his freedom.
"Fuck."
You had to make it up to him. You had to made this work for him. You had to give him back his freedom.
-- -- --
"Hey Gojo, what's with the face? Sense a curse or something?" asked Ino.
"No, it's... it's nothing."
Word Count: 1130
Previous - Masterlist - Next
Author's Notes: Guys, I just realized that I've been spelling Ijichi's name wrong this whole time. I went back and fixed it in the other chapters so if you saw it.... shhhh no you didn't.
Also this is my first time writing angst. When I first thought of this scene, it made my heart hurt, but when I wrote it here, it didn't. And to me good angst is when your chest gets all warm and low key hurts. So I would absolutely love to hear your thoughts on it. Obviously I don't think this is like revolutionary or the best angst out there, but I just want to know if this is like decent angst.
Next chapter will all be in Nanami's POV so stay tune!
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kookslastbutton · 3 months
Text
Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | Chapter Three
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✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?
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pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader
genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love
word count: 8.1k+
warnings: This chapter in particular is written from oc's perspective, oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking, mentions of unhealthy parental relationships (attempts for arranged marriage), Oc being a total boss at work bc she is amazing at her job, and ofc more cute & meaningful Yoon and OC interactions (I love them 🥹)
now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets
a/n: GUYS, I'm getting better at updating! It only took me a little over a month to get this chapter out vs two months last time. I'm going to keep trying to improve, but TYSM for your patience! I'm really proud of how this series is going so far, and this chapter omg...i just hope you enjoy hehehe. Anyway, this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!
Series Masterlist | next chapter >>
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The past week and a half has been a whirlwind. Meetings, studio sessions, and preparations for “Suchwita” have consumed your days and nights. The tight deadlines and intense work pace have kept you on your toes, but there’s a growing excitement within you for the new venture. Today marks the first day of recording "Suchwita," and you find yourself buzzing with anticipation. Determined to ensure everything goes smoothly, you decide to arrive at the studio early to oversee the final preparations.
As you step into the makeshift studio space, you're greeted by a flurry of activity. Camera operators are setting up angles, lighting technicians are adjusting the brightness, and set designers are putting the final touches on the sleek, intimate set that will serve as the backdrop for the show.
The set has a warm, inviting aura with dark wood paneling, a cozy seating area, and a small bar stocked with various bottles of whiskey and soju.
You're impressed by how quickly everything has come together.
“Yoongi-ssi, good morning,” you call out as you approach Yoongi, who is already surveying the room. You notice him glance at you from the corner of his eye as you walk towards him. You have to admit, he looks great. The crew has styled him in denim blue jeans and a navy blue sweater, a casual yet polished outfit that complements the professional yet relaxed atmosphere of the set. It’s clear he arrived before you.
“Good morning __-ssi,” Yoongi replies, giving you a small smile. “Everything ready?”
“We’re almost there. Just a few final touches, and we should be good to go.”
“Great,” he nods, briefly scanning around the set. “The place looks better than I imagined.”
“I’m glad you think so,” you say with a satisfied expression. “We wanted it to reflect your personality and create an atmosphere where you and your guests can have open, honest conversations. How are you feeling this morning?”
“Pretty excited, actually,” he says, folding his arms in a composed manner. “A little nervous, but mostly excited. How are you and the rest of the team holding up with all the new developments?”
“We’re managing,” you say with a chuckle. “It’s been a lot of late nights and early mornings, but everyone’s excited about ‘Suchwita.’ It’s something different and refreshing. I think we’re all equally eager to see it succeed.”
Yoongi nods thoughtfully, taking a moment to soak in the details of the set. “It’s all coming together pretty fast. Do we know for sure who we’ll have on for the next few recordings?”
“We do,” you reply, “We’ve lined up a few other artists for the following episodes, including some from different genres. Your fellow members will also join as soon as their schedules permit. I think it’s going to be a good mix. Also, if there’s anyone in particular you’d like to have as a guest, just let me know. I’m sure we can coordinate it.”
“I’ll consider that,” Yoongi says, genuinely pleased. “I appreciate all the hard work you’ve put into this by the way. I know the timeline has been tight.”
“Well, it’s been a team effort,” you say, smiling warmly. “But thank you. It’s been fun, even if a bit hectic now and then. I have to say, it’s been nice working closely with you, Yoongi-ssi. You’re very dedicated to your craft and I think more often than not, we tend to see eye to eye.”
Yoongi seems to blush slightly at your compliment but maintains his composure. “Good to know you like me after fifteen days,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes. “I was starting to think this partnership might be a bit one-sided, especially after our chat during that smoke break a while ago.”
His lighthearted remark brings you back to that brief smoke break behind the building. It was a simple, candid moment, but it left a lasting impression, making you feel like you and Yoongi were finally starting to become good colleagues. The easy rapport that’s developed between you two since then is a welcome change from the often formal interactions with other team members.
“Well, if I recall correctly,” you counter, “You said you only like me ‘enough.’ That’s not quite the same as actually liking someone and wanting to work with them.”
Amused, Yoongi’s smirk grows. “It was implied, wasn’t it? You know I wouldn’t work with you if I didn’t actually like you.”
“Really?” you say, raising an eyebrow, your tone teasing.
“I have no reason to lie to you, __-ssi.” Yoongi insists, his voice light but his gaze steady. There’s a moment of playful tension in the air, both of you smiling as you challenge each other with your eyes.
“Interesting,” you reply, tilting your head slightly. Though mutually taunting each other, there’s something about Yoongi’s words and tone that still feels reassuring, grounding even.
Before either of you can exchange another word, you hear footsteps nearing behind you. Turning, you see Kim Namjoon entering the studio with a warm smile on his face. He’s dressed casually yet stylishly, exuding the effortless charisma that has made him a beloved figure among fans.
“Morning,” Namjoon greets, his voice carrying a familiar depth. He adjusts the bottom of his shirt, giving the studio a once-over. “I hope I’m not late or anything.”
Approaching Namjoon, you greet him with an inviting smile and extend your hand for a handshake. His response is equally friendly, and there’s a sense of gentle confidence coming from him, as any good leader should have.
“It’s wonderful to meet you, __-nim,” Namjoon responds, shaking your hand warmly. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Yoongi-hyung.”
Somewhat taken aback by the bit of information, you share a glance with Yoongi, who briefly meets your eyes before averting his gaze back to Namjoon. A faint rosy tint colors his cheeks once again.
“This place looks fantastic. You’ve really outdone yourselves,” Namjoon continues.
“Thank you,” you say, feeling a surge of pride. “We wanted to create a space where our guests feel comfortable and can have open, honest conversations. I think we’ve achieved that.”
Namjoon nods in agreement, taking in the surroundings with a thoughtful expression. “It definitely feels welcoming. I’m looking forward to seeing it all come together in the end.”
“Congratulations on your new album by the way,” you add. “I’m sure Indigo is going to be a success, especially amongst your fans who have been waiting for another solo from you for quite some time.”
“Thanks, it’s been a journey and I’m glad to have such a loyal fanbase who continue to support me for the last nine-plus years. It always lifts my spirits.”
“Absolutely, and you deserve it too,” you reply. “I’ve been a huge supporter of The Last Shadow Puppets for over ten years myself, and I think I’ve officially become their gatekeeper.” As you allow yourself a light chuckle, the two in front of you smile in return. Yoongi looks like he wants to press further but chooses to remain silent.
“Well anyway,” you shift topics due to the minor lull, “we should get started.”
Namjoon nods approvingly. “So, what’s the plan for today?”
“We’ve got a brief rundown for you,” you say, motioning towards a table with a few scripts and notes. “We’ll start with a casual chat to set the tone, then delve into some of your recent projects and thoughts on the music industry. We want it to be as natural and spontaneous as possible, so don’t worry about sticking too closely to the script. Also, we know ‘Indigo’ won’t be officially released for two more days, but ‘Suchwita’ is premiering on the 5th. That said, we are filming ahead of time so Yoongi might guide the conversation as if your album’s already been released.”
“Sounds good,” Namjoon says, his relaxed demeanor showing his readiness to go with the flow. “Anything specific you want me to prepare for?”
“No, just be yourself,” you reply with a reassuring smile. “That’s what this show is all about. Authentic conversations, nothing forced. Yoongi-ssi will take the seat on the right of the camera and Namjoon-nim, you’ll be on the left.”
“Got it,” Namjoon says, giving you a thumbs up. He then turns to Yoongi. “Hyung, ready to show off your hosting skills?”
Yoongi chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “We’ll see how it goes. It’s my first time doing something like this, so I’m just hoping not to embarrass myself.”
“You’ll do great,” Namjoon says confidently, giving Yoongi a supportive pat on the back. “Just be your usual, charming self.”
As the crew finishes their preparations and the cameras start rolling, you stand off to the side, monitoring the setup and ensuring everything runs smoothly. The room falls silent as the red recording light flickers on.
Yoongi takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair.
“Welcome, everyone, to the first episode of ‘Suchwita…time to drink with Suga.’ I’m your host, Min Yoongi, and today we have a very special guest. Someone who’s not just a fellow artist but a good friend and our BTS band leader, Kim Namjoon.”
“Happy to be here,” Namjoon says with a grin. “And thanks for the drink.” He picks up his glass of whiskey and raises it in a mock toast.
Yoongi chuckles and lifts his own glass. “Cheers, Namjoon-ah. Let’s dive in. I wanted to start by talking about your new album, Indigo. It’s been out for a few days now, and it’s already making waves. How are you feeling about the responses?”
Namjoon takes a sip before answering, his demeanor relaxed. “It’s been amazing. The fans have been so supportive, and it’s really encouraging to see people connecting with the themes and messages in the album. I wanted it to be something that reflects where I am in my life right now, both musically and personally.”
“That’s something I’ve always admired about your work,” Yoongi says, his tone genuine. “You’re not afraid to be vulnerable and share your thoughts and experiences. I think that’s why so many people resonate with your music.”
“It’s something we all strive for, isn’t it?” Namjoon replies, looking thoughtful. “To create art that’s true to ourselves and that speaks to others. I think it’s all about finding that balance between vulnerability and strength that can make music so relatable. Speaking of which, I’m excited to hear more about your upcoming album, D-Day. What can fans expect?”
Yoongi takes a moment to gather his thoughts. “D-Day is a very personal project for me. It’s a reflection of my journey and everything I’ve been through, especially over the past couple of years. There’s a lot of introspection and a lot of different sounds I’ve experimented with. I wanted it to be an honest portrayal of where I am right now.”
“That sounds incredible,” Namjoon says, leaning forward. “I know the fans are going to love it. You’ve always had a way of capturing emotions in your music that’s really powerful.”
As the conversation continues, you observe Namjoon closely, impressed by his ability to articulate his thoughts with clarity and depth. Yoongi’s previous nervousness has also subsided from the way he easily navigates the conversation, speaking with a similar passion and conviction as Namjoon.
The pair have a natural rapport that is captivating to watch, and their insights into the creative process are both fascinating and inspiring.
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After about an hour, when the first taping wraps up, the crew applauds as Yoongi and Namjoon stand and share a brief hug.
“Well we did it,” Yoongi says, looking relieved. “Thanks for being my first guest.”
“Anytime,” Namjoon replies, grinning. “You did great, Yoongi I think this show is going to be a hit.”
“Great job, both of you.” You approach the two with a smile, earning their attention. “Fans are going to love seeing you two together once this releases. It’ll set the tone for the rest of the episodes. Thanks again, Namjoon, for being here. Your support means a lot.”
“It was my pleasure,” Namjoon replies, returning your smile. “I can’t wait to see how the show turns out.”
Just as you’re about to head off to the production room, Namjoon briefly checks his phone and then looks at Yoongi. “Hey, how do you feel about grabbing some lunch at the cafeteria? It’s been a while since we had a proper meal together.”
Yoongi’s face lifts at the suggestion. “I’m up for it. I’m starving.”
Namjoon then shifts his gaze at you. “What about you __-nim?”
You hesitate for a moment, feeling an obvious pang of hunger. You hadn’t eaten much this morning other than a few strawberries. However, you don’t want to intrude on their time together.
As you debate whether to decline the invitation and catch up on Taehyung’s whereabouts or attend to your next work projects, Yoongi speaks up. “The more the merrier,” he says.
“Yeah, if you don’t have anything pressing we’d love to have you join us,” Namjoon adds, the same warm smile on his face.
Your eyes shift between the two men standing in front of you, sincerity evident in their expressions.
“Okay, sure, I could go for something to eat,” you reply, nodding.
With a collective agreement, the three of you make your way to the cafeteria. Once there, Yoongi opts for a heaping plate of bulgogi, his eyes gleaming at the sight of the colorful vegetables and perfectly marinated beef. Namjoon selects a fresh, savory bowl of stir-fried noodles himself, while you choose a hearty bowl of ramen, steam rising from the rich broth.
Despite the bustling lunch hour, you manage to find a table near the large windows. The sunlight streaming through gives you a much-needed boost of energy.
“Here’s to a successful first episode,” Namjoon says, raising his glass of water in a toast.
“Cheers,” you and Yoongi respond in unison, clinking glasses.
As you start to dig into your meals, Namjoon turns to Yoongi. “So, what’s the lineup gonna look like for the next few episodes?”
Yoongi takes a sip of his drink before answering. “We’re planning on bringing in more artists from other groups, a couple of comedians, and maybe some actors. We want to keep it diverse and not just stick to musicians. But I’d also like to get the rest of our members on the show too at some point.”
“That’s smart,” Namjoon agrees, taking a bite of his noodles. “It’ll keep the conversations dynamic and appeal to a broader audience.”
“You know,” you chime in, “I think one of the strengths of ‘Suchwita’ is going to be its versatility. Yoongi, your ability to connect with people from different backgrounds will be a huge asset.”
Yoongi smiles appreciatively. “Thanks. I just hope I can keep up the energy and bring out the best in each guest.”
“You will,” Namjoon says confidently. “Just be yourself. That’s what people are tuning in for—the real Yoongi, having real conversations. Fans like seeing how well you can hold your whiskey too. It’s all part of the charm.”
Yoongi chuckles at the sheer truth of it all. “It’s nice to be able to do something like this, to be honest. Not just for the fans, but also for our colleagues who we can spotlight and bring further appreciation to.”
“I know what you mean, man.” Namjoon swallows another mouthful of noodles and then directs his attention to you. “I don’t imagine you’ll be a guest on the show will you?”
“Definitely not,” you reply, shaking your head. “I’ll be in the background, like a puppet master.”
“Ah, gotta make sure hyung says the right stuff huh? Trust me, I’d be the first to understand that,” Namjoon chuckles before continuing.“I feel like you’d be a natural on the show though. I, for one, would make sure to watch.” There’s a suggestive undertone in his words but you’re quick to waive it off. It’s probably just your imagination anyway.
“I wouldn’t mind having an excuse to enjoy some old-fashioned whiskey at work,” you reply. “It’s been a long-time favorite of mine.”
“Oh, you like it too?” Namjoon’s eyes widen unexpectedly. “No wonder you and Yoongi work well together.”
Intrigued, Yoongi looks at you, and it’s now that you realize he’s chosen to take the seat next to you instead of Namjoon. If you leaned any further towards him, you’re certain you’d catch the scent of smoked wood and citrus. “I always keep a bottle in my producing room these days,” he admits, and like Namjoon there’s a slight implication behind his words.
Before entertaining any further thoughts about it, however, you playfully snort in reply. “Is that what you’re doing up there at 10 pm? Having your whiskey? Here I’ve been thinking you were busy mixing your tracks.”
Yoongi shrugs, meeting your teasing tone. “I can do both. I’m good at multitasking.”
A giggle escapes your lips as you land a gentle, but firm swat on his arm. The unsuspecting action would have taken you all aback if you weren’t already amused by the conversation. “Yoongi-ssi,” you feign a scold, “no one’s actually good at multitasking.”
“So what are you saying? I’m half-assing it?” He’s grinning ear to ear now, his gummy smile undeniably cute. For a split second, it causes a blooming sensation in the pit of your stomach. But no, stop—you fold your arms, determined to maintain composure.
“I’m just saying that I’ll believe it when I see it.”
As if in a challenge, Yoongi narrows his eyes at you while Namjoon continues watching the scene unfold from across the table, eyes darting between the two of you. “You’ll have to come up to my producing room sometime,” Yoongi says. “It’s the only way I can prove it to you.”
“Mhm, right.” You share a knowing look with Yoongi, his dark eyes dancing with what can only be described as mischief. Being that his music equipment is on the 17th floor, which is reserved for Hybe artists only, you haven’t even considered venturing to the upper halls.
“You really should see his producing room __-nim,” Namjoon chimes after being a spectator for longer than he’d like. “He’s got an insane setup up there.”
“We’ll see,” you reply simply, “Maybe.”
From the remainder of your meal, the conversation shifts to lighter topics as Yoongi recounts a funny story about trying to write lyrics late at night and accidentally sending them to his accountant instead of Taehuyng. Namjoon bursts out laughing, nearly spilling his water, while you shake your head in amused disbelief.
“Did they give you any financial advice on your lyrics?” you prob.
“Surprisingly, no.” Yoongi replies with a chuckle. “But I got a very confusing email the next morning.”
“We should do this more often,” Namjoon interjects once he finishes his noodles, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. “It’s good to catch up, and it’s great getting to know you too, __-nim. I’m glad you could join us.”
“Well, thanks for inviting me,” you say with a smile of gratitude. “It’s been nice.”
After lunch concludes, you part ways with Yoongi and Namjoon. They head off to a meeting with the rest of the members, while you return to your office to tackle a pile of reports. If you hadn’t been so focused on making your way back, you might have noticed Yoongi sneaking a final glance at you over his shoulder.
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Later that evening, after a long day of preparations and discussions with your team, you finally head home. The events of the day still linger in your mind, but a sense of accomplishment accompanies your fatigue as the first episode of 'Suchwita' is already being edited for release.
How is it that tomorrow is already the first day of December? Time flies.
As you unlock the door to your apartment and step inside, your phone buzzes with a notification. It’s a message from your parents, asking for the second time if you’ll be coming home for the holidays. You recall your mother’s earlier message mentioning someone she wanted to introduce you to—a potential husband. You had seen through her request instantly but had delayed your reply.
A pang of guilt now tugs at your heart as you finally type out your response, carefully explaining that you have a new project to film and won’t have many days off. You promise to try and visit around New Year’s instead, hoping you’ll be better mentally prepared then.
Setting your phone down, you realize you haven’t heard from Taehyung today. Usually, he checks in or shares a quick update about his schedule. You wonder if everything is alright with him but decide not to overthink it, making a mental note to reach out to him tomorrow.
After changing into more comfortable clothes, you settle down on the couch with a cup of tea. The quietness of your apartment is a stark contrast to the lively energy of the production set.
As you sip your tea, you start to relax, but then your phone buzzes again. This time, it’s a message from Taehyung. You quickly open it, relieved to see his name.
Tae 💚: Hey, sorry I didn’t check earlier. It’s been a crazy day. How did the first taping go with Yoongi and Namjoon?
Smiling, you type out a reply.
You: It went really well. We should have everything edited and ready for upload by Monday. How about you? Everything okay?
Tae 💚: Good to hear! Yeah, everything’s okay on my end. Just a full day with shoots and meetings with Bang PD. I’m sorry we didn’t get to have our usual lunch together 🙁
You: Me too. Maybe tomorrow?
Tae 💚: I should be able to. Let me know when you decide to head down. By the way…look [attached an image]
The second you see the image of farm-fresh strawberries in a vibrant green container, you nearly leap from your seat. You and Taehyung love fruit, especially the ones from the local farmers market where they have the best variety. You like to go every other weekend, at the same time, if you could. The only unfortunate part is that to keep down rumors, Taehyung and you often shopped separately as if strangers, then reconvened in a private location to show each other your purchases. Often, he’d come to your place for a meal afterward.
It wasn’t an ideal system since you’d like to be out with Taehyung more freely, but despite the crowds, the public was always quick to recognize him. This coming Saturday is the next time you both planned to go, but the image looks like he’s already been there.
You: What?! 😭 You went to the farmers market without me??
Tae 💚: Oh, no! I wouldn't dream of it! This is the last container I have at my house, so we need to go soon. Saturday can’t come soon enough!
You: Okay good, because I like going together haha. I need more mangos and oranges! I ate my last orange today and got sad about it.
Tae 💚: 🤣 You sound like Yoongi-hyung. He loves oranges too. The two of you have more similarities in food and drinks than I thought. Has he offered you a drink of his whiskey yet?
The question surprises you. Had Yoongi told him what happened between the two of you at lunch?
You: How did you know that?
Tae 💚: Wait, really? I was just asking because he likes to offer it to me whenever I visit him in his studio. He really asked you to have a drink with him? __?
You: Yes. After we filmed, we all decided to grab lunch. Long story short, Yoongi said he had whiskey in his producing room and said I should come up sometime. I haven’t even been to the 17th floor yet.
Tae 💚: You should take him up on the offer! Go see what he’s got going on up there __. His studio is pretty immaculate.
You: Hmm, I don't know. It was a pretty informal invite, to be honest, and I’m not technically allowed up there.
Tae 💚: Don’t think so much about it. It’s clear that you and Yoongi are work partners now, so no one will think twice about you being on the floor. Also, you can always come up and visit me. I’m down the hall from Yoongi’s room.
You: We’ll see.
Tae 💚: What? You don’t want to come up and see me? I always visit you. 😭
You: Fine, fine. I’ll come up to see you one of these days, but only you. I have no business knocking on Yoongi’s door while he’s busy with his album tracks.
Tired, you shut off your phone. Your thoughts drift back to the moments shared with Yoongi and Namjoon during lunch. It was nice getting to know Namjoon for the first time, as you’ve been curious about him since he’s been the leader of BTS for the past nine years. There’s a similarity you both share; leadership experience.
You feel like you got closer to Yoongi as well, with the way you both easily responded to each other’s quips. But where did that playful swat come from? That’s the kind of behavior you reserve for friends only. Was Yoongi starting to become more than a colleague?
The idea sends an unexpected rush through your veins.
With the first of December being tomorrow, it’s coming up on three weeks of working side by side with Yoongi. You meant it when you said working with him has been enjoyable, as you’ve found that his meticulous nature complements your own. His dry humor is one you’ve particularly come to appreciate too.
Yes, finding common ground on some decisions can be tricky. There have been moments where you’ve both stood firm on your perspectives, each believing in the merit of your ideas. However, even amid disagreement, there is always mutual respect extended toward each other. Yoongi listens intently, considering your points before responding, and you do the same for him.
Given the nature of it all, you have a feeling you’ll become better acquainted not only with Yoongi but also with the rest of his members. After all, you’re already best friends with Taehyung, who’s quite the networker. He’s been your anchor in this new environment since day one, to be honest, always ready with a smile or a word of encouragement.
Taking another sip of your tea, you lean your head back against the couch, staring up at the blank ceiling, lost in thought.
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You should truly learn to savor the quiet moments because, for the remainder of the week, you don’t get a second to spare. Lunch with Taehyung was abruptly cut short by an unforeseen team emergency, and Yoongi’s packed schedule left little room for more than fleeting glimpses. By the time Saturday morning rolls around, you consider yourself fortunate to have the weekend mostly free of work demands.
The crisp chill of early December invigorates you as you wake up refreshed, eager for the farmers market trip you’ve been looking forward to all week. After a quick breakfast, you bundle up in a cozy scarf and jacket and head to the familiar meeting spot where you and Taehyung always begin your market visits.
When you arrive, Taehyung is already there, a familiar baseball cap perched on his head to help keep a low profile. He looks up and waves when he sees you, a bright smile lighting up his face.
"Hey! You made it," Taehyung says as you approach.
"Of course, I wouldn't miss this," you reply, grinning back. "I need my mango and orange fix."
"Well, you're in luck. They have some really good ones today," he says, carefully pointing towards the nearby stalls that overflow with colorful fruits. The market appears to be alive with vibrant colors and enticing scents, and as the crowds grow, vendors enthusiastically call out their specials, adding to the lively atmosphere.
“See you on the other side?” you ask.
He nods, and you both venture into the market, maintaining an appropriate distance but always within sight. You exchange occasional glances and smiles while picking out the ripest mangos, juiciest oranges, and a few baskets of the strawberries he teased you about earlier in the week.
As you weave through the stalls, you soon get lost in the joy of discovering fresh, local products, comforted by the knowledge that Taehyung's just a few stalls away.
After about an hour, you reconvene at a quiet corner of the market, both carrying bags filled with fruits and other goodies.
"Successful haul?" Taehyung asks, eyeing your bags.
"Definitely," you reply, holding up a mango triumphantly. "How about you?"
"Got everything I wanted," he says, showing off his own bags filled with strawberries, grapes, and a few other items. "These will be perfect for a smoothie, or a fruit salad."
"How about we head back to my place and one of those? If you have time."
“Yes, I definitely have time,” he agrees, a genuine excitement in his voice.
Just as you start walking towards your apartment, a sudden movement catches your eye—a rogue orange rolling towards your feet.
Puzzled, you pick it up and look around, thinking it must have come from a nearby vendor or another shopper.
"Looks like you've found your orange," Taehyung remarks with a chuckle.
Just then, you spot a familiar figure sprinting towards you, with another following closely behind.
"Namjoon, seriously? I asked you to hold the bag for not even five seconds!" Yoongi calls out, his tone a mix of amusement and exasperation. "You're going to start a fruit-rolling revolution."
“Hey, it got away from me, man!” Namjoon defends his clumsiness, laughing. “Sorry about that," he adds sheepishly, not yet realizing who he's approaching.
“__-nim!” He abruptly stops in his tracks when he recognizes you and Taehyung in front of him. You offer the orange to him instinctively, feeling a bit startled.
“Thanks,” Namjoon says, taking the orange from your hand. He looks you straight in the eye, then at Taehyung before slowly breaking into a full smile. “I thought I saw the two of you back there, but Yoongi didn't believe me. When did you guys get here? Yoongi and I arrived about twenty minutes ago."
"About an hour ago," Taehyung replies casually.
"Man, you should have let us know. We could have come as a group!”
The remark catches you off guard, as this is the first time the four of you have been in such close proximity, let alone on a group outing.
Taehyung shrugs nonchalantly in response. “I had plans with __.”
Namjoon chuckles, glancing between all of you. “Well hey, I understand. I’m just saying, I’d be fun to hang out outside of work sometime.”
“But, this is our thing,” Taehyung counters, a bit possessively, in a platonic sense, of course.
Beside Namjoon, Yoongi stands with a single bag of oranges in his hand and nothing else. His eyes widen slightly at Taehyung's words, glancing at the bag of oranges nestled among the other fruits you're holding.
"You have a thing?" Yoongi asks, his tone a mix of genuine surprise and a hint of amusement.
"Yeah, we come here often," Taehyung answers, a small smile playing on his lips. "We're both fruit fanatics!"
"Right," Yoongi nods slowly, seeming to process this new information. "Well, it makes sense then. This is the best place to get the freshest fruit.”
“Is that a pineapple, Tae?” Namjoon’s eyes instantly light up when they spot the spiky fruit peeking out of one of Taehyung’s grocery bags.
A grin spreads across Taehyung’s face, like oil on water. “Yeah, it is. I found it at a little hidden stall. It’s easier to show you than to explain. I can take you over if you’d like.”
“Lead the way,” Namjoon agrees eagerly, then glances over at you and Yoongi. “You guys coming too?” You both exchange a quick look before shaking your head.
"We'll stay here," you say. "The crowd's a bit much."
"Alright, we’ll be back in a few minutes,” Taehyung nods. He and Namjoon begin weaving their way back into the bustling market, leaving you and Yoongi in the quiet corner.
Yoongi leans against a nearby wall and lets out a contented sigh. “This is nice. It’s been a hell of a week.”
You nod, taking a moment to appreciate the calmness as well. “It has. But look,” you gesture casually to each other’s bags, “at least we scored some amazing fruit from it.”
Yoongi chuckles softly. “So we did. I’m tempted to have one of my oranges now, but I think I'll save them for later. How’s the rest of the weekend looking for you by the way?”
Just some editing work for 'Suchwita' and maybe a bit of relaxation. What about you?"
“I might grab a few drinks with Namjoon, but I plan on spending most of my time in the studio. I’ve been fine-tuning my album tracks and recently discovered a new artist who’s been a huge source of inspiration.”
“Really?” You’re beyond intrigued, always open to hearing about new music. “Who are they?”
Yoongi gives you a knowing look. “I think you’re already pretty familiar with them.” A sparkle beams in his eyes as he waits for you to connect the dots. It takes you a few seconds before your entire face lights up with a big smile.
“No way,” you exclaim, “The Last Shadow Puppets?!”
He nods, returning your smile. Yoongi’s admission about The Last Shadow Puppets sends a warm thrill through you.
“I’m glad you gave them a listen,” you say with a pleased grin. “I consider Alex Turner to be one of the best, if not the best, lyricists of all time.”
“Well, I might just have to agree with you there. The depth of his lyrics are pretty damn genius. After you mentioned the band the other day, I got curious and decided to dive into their discography. I’ve listened to everything they’ve put out now, all in one sitting.” He pauses, a slight smirk playing on his lips.
It’s as if he’s proud to share this with you.
“I didn’t realize you had such an impressive ear for music, __-ssi,” he adds, teasing lightly.
“Excuse you? I’ve been known to have impeccable taste, for your information,” you fire back, feigning offense. "I might even have better taste than you."
Yoongi raises an eyebrow skeptically. “Is that so?”
You nod confidently. "Absolutely. I've got a knack for finding hidden gems."
“Alright then, impress me. Recommend me something else. What's the next masterpiece on your list?”
You lean in closer, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Oh, I could do that," you begin, "but then you'd owe me cigarettes for a week."
Yoongi's eyes widen slightly, a similar competitiveness reflecting in his gaze. "Bold words. Are you sure you can back them up?"
“There’s no doubt I can, Yoongi-ssi. Have you ever listened to 'Candy' by Paolo Nutini? If you haven't, you're seriously missing out."
"Candy? I don't think I know that one."
"You're in for a treat then,” you reply. "'Candy' is one of those songs that hook you from the first listen. Give it a try, and if you don't fall in love with it, I'll cook you kimchi jigae for lunch on Monday. But if you do love it, you're buying me cigarettes for a week."
Yoongi chuckles, unable to resist the challenge. "Alright, deal. I can't say no, especially with Taehyung showing off the food you make for him nearly every chance he gets. You’re quite the cook, it seems.”
With a satisfied grin, you pull out your phone. "I'll send you the link to the song so it'll be easier for you to find when you get a chance to listen."
Yoongi nods, already unlocking his phone. “Challenge accepted. But if I end up not loving it, I'm holding you to that bowl of kimchi jigae.”
“Sure thing,” you reply, unfazed. “But I’m already looking forward to those cigarettes, Yoongi-ssi. Make sure you get the good ones, okay?”
Yoongi chuckles in reply, shaking his head in amusement.
“I promise. Only the best ones for you, __-ssi.”
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Monday arrives sooner than expected with the highly anticipated release of the first episode of 'Suchwita'. You're certain that the new production will be well received by the audience, but you know better than to prematurely declare its success. Even after approving the final edits over the weekend, you remind yourself to remain mindful of unexpected challenges lurking around the corner—roadblocks and last-minute changes that continually test your team's resolve.
Throughout the day, as the clock ticks towards evening, you monitor the episode's reception with bated breath. The first reviews trickle in within minutes, and initial viewer reactions are positive, gradually easing some of your tension.
By just past 7 pm, 'Suchwita' earns over three million views, its popularity evident as it spreads rapidly across the globe.
Amidst this whirlwind of emotions and the constant rush of notifications, a familiar buzz from your phone interrupts your thoughts.
Yoongi: Looks like I owe you some cigarettes
You smile, immediately recalling the recent wager the two of you made about Paolo Nutini's "Candy”. Truth be told, Yoongi’s reaction to the song has kept you on edge for days.
You: So, do you believe I have a good ear for music now? 🙃 I’m pleased you enjoyed the song, by the way.
Yoongi: It appears I do. The cigarettes are in my production room. Come by if you're up for it.
You blink at the screen, taken aback. Yoongi's producing room was his sanctuary, a place so personal and significant that the thought of being in that space felt almost invasive. You recall his casual remark last Wednesday about coming up to take a look, though it was unclear if it was just banter or a genuine invitation.
You: You sure it's okay for me to come up there? I don't want to disturb your creative zone.
Sending the message, you wait, half-expecting him to retract the invitation or reassure you in some way. Instead, his reply comes almost instantly.
Yoongi: It's quiet here, and I wouldn’t mind some good company.
Your mind wrestles with curiosity and caution as you reread the text. After a moment's deliberation, you type your response.
You: Okay, I can come up for a few minutes
Once in front of the 17th floor where Yoongi’s production room is located, you pull out your phone to send him a text, notifying him of your arrival and the need to be let in. Just as you're about to send the message, however, the door suddenly swings open.
Standing before you is a man with soft eyes, gently pushing the door open. It's Park Jimin, looking visibly surprised to find you standing just inches away from the entrance. Behind him, Jungkook nearly bumps into him from the abrupt halt.
"Hey there," Jimin says, his surprise quickly transforming into a welcoming smile. "You must be __-nim, Yoongi's marketing manager, right?"
You nod, slightly unprepared for how quickly they've identified you. "Yes, that's me. Nice to meet you, Jimin, Jungkook," you reply warmly, extending your hand in greeting. Meeting them was inevitable, but you didn’t expect it to happen tonight.
Jungkook grins and nods in acknowledgment. "Nice to meet you too, __-nim. I’m guessing you’re here to see Yoongi-hyung?”
“For a little bit, yes.”
"Come on in then.” Jimin steps aside, gesturing for you to enter. “If Yoongi's expecting you, you're more than welcome. We'd take you straight to him if we weren't rushing off to a last-minute photoshoot. His room's just down the hall on the left. You can’t miss it."
“I completely understand,” you assure them gratefully. “Thank you both. It was nice meeting you.”
With a final smile, the pair exits the floor, leaving you to continue down the hallway.
It doesn't take long before you spot a slightly ajar door on the far left, casting a warm glow into the corridor—undeniably Yoongi’s production room. Without hesitation, you approach and knock gently on the dark oak, but there's no response. Trying again yields the same silence, leaving you uncertain if he can hear you. Deciding it may be better to push the door open, you do so with caution.
Inside Yoongi's production room, the atmosphere is cozy, filled with an array of musical instruments, a decent-sized couch, scattered music sheets, and a softly glowing computer screen displaying complex audio tracks. Taehyung and Namjoon were absolutely right when they said his space is immaculate because as you take in the details around you, you too conclude that it’s one of a kind.
Yoongi himself is at his desk, leaning over with an expression of intense focus. You're prepared to make a playful remark to capture his attention, but as Yoongi looks up, his bloodshot eyes stop you short. They are reddened and slightly glazed, with dark circles underneath—a stark contrast to the usual sharpness and clarity in his gaze. Even his posture seems weighed down by exhaustion, indicating just how hard he's been pushing himself, perhaps too hard.
“I see you found the place alright," he smiles weakly, though he does his best to keep his tone uplifted. "I’m glad you could come."
“Yoongi-ssi, are you okay?” You can’t stop yourself from asking, concern only tightening in your chest as you realize the extent of the strain he must be under.
Yoongi chuckles, rubbing his eyes as if to wipe away the fatigue etched into his face. “I might have overdone it this weekend,” he confesses, his voice heavy with weariness. “I’ve been working on this track nonstop, trying to get it just right. I just don’t think it’s good enough yet, and the minute I think I’ve finally made a break though, I’m back to square one.” Seeing him so drained and filled with self-doubt stirs something protective within you.
“Your work is incredible, Yoongi-ssi,” you say, your voice gentle but firm. “You pour so much of yourself into it, constantly striving for perfection, and that dedication is admirable. But sometimes, it’s important to take a step back, breathe, and allow yourself to be proud of your work. I believe in your talent as both an artist and a producer, and I'm confident that your music will be exactly what it needs to be.”
Yoongi looks at you for a moment, his tired eyes searching yours as if assessing your sincerity. Slowly, a small, appreciative smile forms on his lips. "Thanks," he murmurs, the weariness in his voice tempered by a hint of gratitude. "I think I needed to hear some of that tonight.”
Without another word, he leans back in his chair, letting out a deep sigh. His shoulders visibly relax, and for a brief moment, the weight of exhaustion seems to ease.
"Do you want to talk about what you've been working on?” you ask. “Sometimes bouncing ideas around helps."
Yoongi nods slowly, looking thoughtful. "Maybe that's exactly what I need right now," he admits, his tone more relaxed than before. He gestures to the leather couch near his desk, inviting you to sit.
As you settle into the comfortable leather couch, Yoongi begins to share his thoughts. He speaks about the challenges he's encountered with the track, detailing moments of doubt and frustration.
"I've been wrestling with this melody for weeks," he admits, leaning forward slightly. "It's like I can hear it in my head, but every time I try to put it down, it slips away."
He describes how he struggled to find the right melody, the perfect rhythm, and the lyrics that would convey exactly what he wanted to express.
"I want this track to resonate with people on a deeper level," he says earnestly, his eyes reflecting his determination. “But it's been tough trying to balance the beat with the lyrics."
As he delves deeper into his creative process, you notice a shift in his demeanor. His voice becomes more animated, his gestures more expressive as he shares anecdotes about late-night studio sessions, where ideas flowed freely, and moments of clarity when everything seemed to click into place.
"It's moments like those," he reflects with a smile, "that remind me why I love what I do."
Throughout the conversation, you offer supportive nods and occasional insights, encouraging Yoongi to explore different angles or suggesting ideas that might complement his vision. It becomes clear that bouncing ideas around, as you suggested earlier, is indeed helping him to clarify his thoughts and reignite his creative spark.
"You know," he muses after a thoughtful pause, "it's rare to find someone who gets it—understands the drive, the struggle. Most people just see the end result, not what it takes to get there."
You nod again, silently acknowledging the depth of what he shares. "I'm glad I can be here for you," you reply sincerely. "It means a lot that you trust me with this."
"Would you like a drink? Some whiskey, maybe?" Yoongi pops the question out of nowhere, catching you off guard, yet you don’t decline the offer.
"Sure, but only if you promise to get some rest after," you counter, half-joking, half-serious. He chuckles in response.
Rising from his seat, Yoongi walks to a small cabinet and pulls out a bottle of whiskey along with two glasses. As he pours the amber liquid, the room seems to exhale with him, the earlier tension melting away.
"Mind if I sit with you?" he asks, handing you a glass of whiskey and gesturing to the space beside you on the couch.
You nod in acceptance and take a sip of your drink, feeling the warmth of the whiskey spread through you.
"Thanks for coming up here," Yoongi says, his voice noticeably more relaxed than before. ”I didn't realize how much I needed a break until tonight.”
You nod, understanding the weight of creative pressures and the relentless pursuit of perfection. "It's important to recharge," you reply gently, raising your glass. "To moments like this—where we can step back and just be."
Yoongi clinks his glass against yours, a faint smile playing on his lips. "To moments like this," he echoes, taking a sip.
As the conversation flows, the evening unfolds into a rhythm of shared stories, musings about life, and occasional quiet moments where the only sound is the soft hum of the room.
“__-ssi,” he starts, swirling the whiskey in his glass, "I should really get you up here more often. This could be a thing. Whiskey breaks in my producing room."
You laugh, the sound light and genuine. "Count me in," you reply, raising your glass once more.
"And before I forget," Yoongi chuckles, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, "I owe you for introducing me to some new, kick-ass music."
"Why, thank you," you reply with a smile. "Much appreciated. You got the good kind too. You spoil me, Yoongi-ssi."
“You’re welcome. Can I be honest for a second though?”
“Sure.”
“Part of me was actually hoping I’d dislike ‘Candy’ because I had a feeling you make a mean kimchi jigae. But the song was too good; I had to pay it respect.”
“I told you you’d fall in love with it, Yoongi-ssi” you say, perhaps a bit cheekier than intended. “Let's start a new wager: I'll make my special homemade kimchi jigae for you.”
"Really?" His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas day.
"Yes, I will," you giggle, "as long as you keep taking my music recommendations."
"Deal," he says firmly, setting down his glass. He extends his hand for you to shake, and you both laugh at his sudden goofiness. “Thanks again for tonight, __-ssi, for everything.”
“Of course,” you reply. “I told you we’re teammates now, didn’t I?”
“After tonight, I think we could be friends too.”
As you both linger in the moment, the studio's door swings open, and a voice calls out, "Hey, Yoongi, are you still here?"
Yoongi glances towards the door and then back at you with a playful smirk. "Looks like I've got more company," he says, nodding towards the doorway.
I’ll let you get back to work," you say, gesturing towards his mixing board. "Can't wait to hear more of these tracks."
"Thanks," he says warmly, appreciating your encouragement. "And about that kimchi jigae…"
"You haven't forgotten?" you tease, raising an eyebrow.
“Never,” he replies with a grin, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
With a final wave, you leave Yoongi to his work, wondering if perhaps being friends wasn't so far-fetched after all. Only time would tell.
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a/n: Hope you enjoyed it! Lmk what you think 🥰
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I finished it, I finished it!!!!!!
I have finished my Santiago series, Ride or Die!!!!!!!
All 87,000 words of it!!!!!
Eleven chapters!!!!!!!!
It’s so very close to me being able to queue all the chapters up and post it (I do need some time for the final chapter by chapter edits, and getting everything in the right format for tumblr posts etc. as it’s still in one big Google doc) but I wanted to take a little moment to celebrate right now :D
Wahoooooo!
I have been writing this for LITERAL YEARS, and honestly, I have never persevered for this long with any writing project in my life, nor have I ever written nor attempted anything of this length (potentially besides boring work reports, yuk!) before!
Idk, the series might totally bomb when I post it, maybe no-one will read it, or maybe those who do give it a bash won’t enjoy it at all, and I am trying to prepare myself for the fact that something I have spent YEARS on simply may not be well-received; but regardless, FOR ME, this project and these two characters and their story have a special place in my heart and represent an achievement I’m proud of, and so for that reason, I am very excited to be able to finally say “it’s done” and to (eventually) share it with you!
I’ll keep you updated with when the series will launch. It won’t be before 2024 (because like I said edits and all that, and 87k is a lot to edit LOL) but once it goes live I hope to queue-up a chapter a week for you; which is almost three months of content! *gasp*
The series will be angsty and smutty and angsty smut and more angst (with a friends to lovers / idiots to lovers skew) and it’s very character-driven.
If this sounds like your thing and you would like to keep updated, please lmk in the comments and I can add you to the series tag list (FYI, I will only add you if you’re 18+!).
I do feel really nervous to share it after spending so long on it - especially because I know it’s not “perfect” - but for where I’m at now in terms of my abilities to write multi-chapter stuff (I will say, I never set out for this to be multi-chapter so structurally I was a little screwed from the start - this was only supposed to be a one shot! :P) I gave it the best stab I could, and I know this has been a crucial step towards taking a much better stab at an extended piece of writing next time around, so I regret nothing at alllllll :D
Anyway, thanks for listening :D
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 11 months
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The Right Place in Time
Summary: What if Steve was in the woods with Chrissy and Eddie buying weed for his headache?
Chapter one
Chapter two
Once Steve went home and smoked a little weed, he felt a lot better, especially when the headache started to fade away, but he was still upset with Eddie. He started driving back to the school once the weed wore off, and when he pulled up, he waited until all of the members of Hellfire started entering the drama room. They arrived early before a whole lot of people even started showing up for the game. He narrowed his eyes when he saw Mike, Erica, and Dustin enter the drama room last. Steve climbed out of the car and started striding towards the drama room when he got assaulted by Robin.
"Oh, thank God, you're here early," Robin said. "Wait, why are you here early?"
"Eddie! He talked Mike and Dustin into replacing Lucas instead of supporting him. From what I just saw, they replaced him with Erica! His sister!" Steve said.
"Well, that's fucked up. Can't they just post pone?" Robin asked.
"They called what Lucas did joining the dark side! It's fucking basketball," Steve said.
"It sounds like they're acting exactly like how bullies treated them. That's not cool," Robin frowned. "Are you going to kick Eddie's ass?"
"I hope not," a voice said from behind Steve.
They turned to find Chrissy standing there. Steve smiled at her and then frowned. He hated having to tell her that he was going to have to cancel the date. She had been so excited.
"Chrissy - ,"
"It sounds like Eddie's being a total dick. We should fix that - shouldn't we?" Chrissy asked.
"I mean, yeah, but why? You barely know him," Steve said.
"I have a feeling about him," Chrissy said softly and took his hand. "I want this to happen."
"Yeah, okay, me too," Steve blushed. "It's just Lucas, Mike, and Dustin have always been friends. They're kids who I babysit, and I just feel protective over them. So, they come first."
"That's sweet, and I totally understand," Chrissy said smiling and dropped his hand. "Let's go!"
Steve smiled, watching her run ahead of them.
"You're going to tell me what that was about, buddy?" Robin asked.
"It's nothing," he blushed. "What did you need me for?"
"Oh! My lip gloss. I left it in your car. I'll be next to Vickie, remember?" Robin asked.
"You play the trumpet," Steve said with narrowed eyes.
"And?" Robin asked.
"Here," Steve said, putting his keys into her hand. "I'm going to go after Chrissy."
Steve hurried to catch up with Chrissy and found her waiting by the drama room door.
"I figured you'd want to do the storming in. They're your kids. I'm only the girl trying to date their mom," Chrissy grinned and slapped him on the back. "Go get them, champ."
Steve smiled briefly before glaring at the door seriously. He rolled his shoulders and stormed through the doors, slamming them open. He was relieved to hear a few startled screams. Steve walked into the room to find Eddie sitting on the throne. He snorted. Right. And he was the arrogant one? Eddie grinned at first until he noticed Steve’s pissed off look. Steve placed his hands on his hips.
"What the hell are you shitheads doing here? Why the hell are you not at the game supporting your best friend?" Steve asked.
"Because Eddie's been planning this for a while," Mike said. "Besides, it's not like Lucas is going to be playing."
"You don't know that. Tonight could be the night that they put him in," Steve said. "And I'm sorry, but I think I missed the part where Eddie's been your best friend since you were babies. Oh, wait, no, that's Lucas."
"Lucas knows how important D&D is to us," Mike scoffed.
"Really? Because it wasn't so important when it was Will wanting to play, and you spent all summer ignoring him. After everything Will went through, he gets snubbed by his friends?" Steve said. "Yeah, that's right. Jonathan told me."
"How is this any of your business?" A guy with really good hair said.
"Maybe because these shitheads mean a lot to me. Wait, I don't need to justify myself to you. Who even are you?" Steve asked.
"Big surprise, King Steve doesn't know someone below him," Good Hair scoffed.
"I'm sorry, but do you know everyone's name in the entire school?" Steve asked.
"Well, no," he frowned.
"So, why is it up to the preppy people to know them all?" He asked, and the man opened his mouth before closing it again.
"The man's got a point," a man with pretty eyes said. "Name's Jeff. That's Gareth. The other one over there is Frank."
"Under different circumstances, I would say it's nice to meet you, but . . .I'm kind of in the middle of yelling," Steve replied and Jeff nodded.
"Steve, it's just a basketball game," Dustin said.
"That's right. It's just a basketball game. It's neither good nor evil. A few jocks pissed on your game, and you decided to make the assumptions that all jocks are bad," Steve said and cast his eyes at Eddie. "Kind of like how people made assumptions about you. Well, right now, you have the ability to show them that nerds and jocks don't have to be enemies. You have the ability to post pone it. Lucas doesn't. Right now, he's scared out of his mind that he's going to lose his friends over the fact that he wanted to branch out and try something new. He wanted to be different, and you judged him for that the way that everyone judged you. He's a scared kid, Eddie, and he's trying to find his place in this world. You're in the position where you can make him feel like he can have both, and you're pushing him away. It's one night. One fucking night."
The entire room was silent, and Eddie, as well as the others, had the decency to look ashamed. He cleared his throat, his voice thick with emotion.
"Does this mean we're not going to be hanging out?" Eddie asked softly.
"Man, that's up to you," Steve said, looking at him sadly. "Do you hate me for being a jock?"
Eddie looked down at his lap. He looked so vulnerable in that moment that Steve wanted to comfort him, but he figured that might take away from what he just did. Dustin pushed his seat back, looking properly shamed.
"You're right, Steve. We should go to the game," Dustin said. "It's one night."
"Yeah," Mike said and stood up.
Erica sighed and rolled her eyes before following the other two out the door. She did look guilty, though. Steve followed them, smiling when he saw Chrissy waiting for them. She clearly heard the whole thing. He went to say something when he heard Eddie's voice.
"Well, gentlemen, it looks like we're going to the game after all," Eddie said.
Steve grinned and started walking off towards the gym, the kids walking ahead of them.
"I just want you to know that I thought that was the hottest thing I ever seen," Chrissy said as she put her arm through his.
"Yeah?" Steve asked.
"Yeah," she giggled.
"Chrissy, right?" Dustin asked.
"Yeah," she replied.
"Are you guys dating?" Dustin asked.
"I'm trying to date him," she said.
"Ooh, he's making you work for it, huh?" Dustin asked.
"Hey, shithead, until you properly make it up to Lucas, you don't get to tease us," Steve said and Chrissy giggled.
"You're such a good mom," she said.
"Stop calling me that," Steve blushed. Smiling.
"Why? When you have such good childbearing hips," Chrissy teased.
Erica snorted, and Steve gave her a look.
"What? She's funny. Just the facts," Erica said.
It was still pretty early when they walked into the gym. There were a few people sitting in the sands. The band has yet to even come in. Chrissy hugged Steve and parted ways with him. Steve guided the kids up the bleachers and made them sit near them, leaving a space open for Eddie. It was quiet for a while until he heard the sound of Dustin sniffling.
"I didn't mean to hurt Lucas, I just - " Dustin said.
"I know," Steve said softly.
"It's just that we think Eddie is so cool like you are that we got excited over the fact that he likes D&D, and it was just nice to have somewhere safe to go to," Dustin said.
"You think I'm on the same level of coolness as Eddie?" Steve asked.
"Well, yeah," Mike scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"Well, okay, but you know, if you think someone is being asshole to your friend, you can tell them off even if they are also your friend," Steve said.
"Yeah, okay," Dustin said, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry for disappointing you, Steve."
"Aww, buddy, come here," Steve said.
Steve and Dustin hugged tightly and quickly. Dustin was soon sitting next to Mike again. Steve looked at Mike questioningly.
"I'm not going to cry," Mike scoffed.
"You're being an asshole, Mike," Dustin quipped. "Cry, damn it."
He smiled when he saw Eddie walk into the gym. He looked sheepish, his hands in his pocket. It was very cute. Eddie nodded at Mike and Dustin, indicating that he wanted them to go down. They looked at Steve.
"Go," he said softly.
Mike, Dustin, and Erica walked down towards Eddie, who led them out of the gym. A moment later, Eddie came back with the kids and the rest of Hellfire in tow. The kids sat back down, leaving an open space for Eddie. He stood nervously by Steve, hands in his pockets while the rest of Hellfire sat in bleacher above them.
"Is this seat taken?" Eddie asked, pointing to the spot beside him.
"Yes," Steve replied.
"Oh," Eddie said softly.
"By you, idiot," he said and pulled him down into the seat.
"I had them apologize to Lucas, and then I apologized to Lucas. I mean, you were right. About everything. I was a goddamn bully. I would totally get it if you thought less of me and didn't want to go out with me," Eddie said.
"If anything, I think more of you. You owned up to your mistakes, you apologized. . . ," Steve said and leaned close to whisper to him. "That is so incredibly sexy of you."
"Sexy?! Me!" Eddie whispered and Steve nodded.
Steve moved closer until his lips were nearly touching Eddie's ear.
"If you hurt one of our kids ever again, I will take out my bat and beat you with it," he whispered.
"Hot," Eddie choked on his saliva and shook his head. "But yeah, I got the message."
Steve laughed and pulled back. He looked down at the court below, and his eyes landed on Chrissy, who was looking at him curiously. Steve grinned and gave her a thumbs up. Her smile was so wide that she was showing nearly all of her teeth. She blew him a kiss. Eddie's hand flew out in front of Steve’s face like he was catching the kiss and made a show of placing it on his own cheek. Chrissy giggled.
"Hey, that was my kiss, jackass," Steve scowled.
"Was it? Too bad," Eddie said.
Steve and Eddie talked until the gym started to fill up with people. The band members filled their seats, and then Tammy Thompson came out to sing. Steve whispered to Eddie about Tammy sounding like a Muppet and he giggled in agreement. Soon, the game began. Eddie struggled to catch up at first, but once Steve started using D&D terms to help him out, he quickly understood. Eddie watched eagerly when they put Lucas in, and when Lucas made the winning shot, he cheered louder than anyone. Eddie pulled Steve into a tight hug.
"Thank you for making sure that I didn't miss this," Eddie whispered in Steve's ear.
Chapter three
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