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#luggage assistance at airport
ahundredtimesover · 4 months
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I Want You to Stay (07) | JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)
Chapter Word count: 15.4k
Series Masterlist
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Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Playlist 🎶: on the way home
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A/N: One of my fave chapters! I hope you like this one! And just a heads up that intervals between posting days will be longer as the chapters get longer, too. And bc u know, life... HAHA but again, thank you so much for all the love for this like??? HOW. PLS you've all been so nice so thank you! 🥰 Also… JK in that SNTY suit.
And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰
PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!
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Mr. Ri loads the luggages in the trunk and you double check that all bags - which you helped pack yesterday - are complete. You enter the car right after and head to the airport where Jungkook will fly to Singapore for a few meetings and to attend Seokjin’s alcohol launch party. 
It’s been over a month since the Arts Center event and so much has happened since then. Jungkook went to Jeju to meet an artist and then to Japan over a weekend to meet another two. He’s been on calls with a few more with plans to meet in their country of residence in the next months, and he’s gone around different local towns to meet with craftspeople for souvenirs and future exhibitions. He’s also touched base with various national and international Korean arts and culture organizations for promotion and joint projects. The event opened doors for a new network that he hoped for. There are now proposals for other collaborations and side engagements that’s doing a lot for the company’s brand and expansion. 
To say that Jungkook and the team have been busy is an understatement. You went back to work after those few days of recovering with everyone overwhelmed by all the things they had to do but like you expected, you all managed and got things organized. There are still multiple things to handle all at once, but everyone’s just been on top of everything and showing how competent you all are as individuals and as a team.
Within that period, Jungkook has stopped by the team’s office and the pantry more times than those first months. He also managed to laugh at Do-hyun’s unfiltered remarks a few times and even slipped his own that got the team giggling. He’s seemed a lot more relaxed and so has the team. Lunch meetings have been regular given all the work you all have to do. Yohan and Chin-sun even say that they’ve gotten to know Jungkook a little better through their visits to the Arts Center. And while they do think he’s still a bit detached and catch him in his own world sometimes, he’s a lot more engaged and is actually way smarter than they’d initially thought. 
Jungkook checks his phone and sighs, prompting you to turn to him.
“Seokjin says the party is an intimate event but there’s gonna be over two-fifty guests so I don’t know about that,” he shakes his head, showing you the restaurant bar where his friend will be launching his alcohol brand. “For some reason, he expects me and Tae to entertain guests on his behalf.”
This was another development you hadn’t expected. Since that morning when Jungkook sent you food when you were unwell, your relationship changed. It’s still professional but there’s more openness now, as if that prompted both of you to be comfortable around each other. 
There’s more trust and honesty, too - he lets you make decisions, lets you handle the team when he’s away, and asks you for your unfiltered opinion. You feel like all the time you spend together has allowed you to learn how he sees and understands things; you even finish his sentences sometimes. 
He’s also loosened up a bit and allows himself to laugh and smile more. They’re still rare occurrences but you never point them out, not wanting him to feel awkward and then stop. They often catch you off guard so you haven’t been able to fully appreciate them but at least he feels comfortable around you, enough to even talk about non-work stuff and things that fill his mind, like random questions or small concerns. 
You’re unsure if he notices how uninhibited he’s become but you don’t point it out either. He still has his moments of living in his head, his faraway thoughts rendering him quiet and observant, and his perfectionist attitude means he’s still critical sometimes. But he doesn’t take anything out on you - not his frustrations nor his fears. He’d usually keep to himself and talk to you once he’s cooled down and you’d take that any day, so long as you keep your sanity and are able to do your tasks as instructed.
In return, you let yourself be the same. You’ve fully restored your confidence and that’s allowed you to show just how capable you are. You’ve been more vocal with your thoughts, too, and don’t take it personally when he doesn’t agree. You smile a lot more, joke with him even, and have been more generous with words of encouragement and affirmation. They come more naturally than you expected, and you appreciate that he doesn’t turn you away whenever it happens.
He’s actually okay to be around when he’s not being grumpy or difficult. You suppose that the situations he was put in - and how you responded with patience and understanding - allowed him to see that you’re truly on his side and that let him put his guard down a little. You’re past trying to please him for the sake of making your job bearable; there’s actual joy in it now, and while the search for who you are outside of all this continues to ring in your head, you think that sticking around for now isn’t so bad either.
“Perhaps Seokjin has seen how good you are with entertaining guests now and deems you worthy of being an extension of him,” you respond to Jungkook’s earlier musings. “And he wouldn’t be wrong. You’ve become really good at it.”
“You know, I think you oversell me sometimes,” he chuckles. 
“Hmm, I think I don’t,” you counter. “If I may say so, Mr. Jeon, it's just that the bar was pretty low so the improvements are quite striking.”
“Fair enough,” he laughs, not taking offense.
“You can still do better at charming people. Maybe you can learn a thing or two from Seokjin and Taehyung,” you push.
“Those two flirt, they don’t charm,” he playfully rolls his eyes.
“Well, I completely disagree, sir. I mean, I’ve seen it firsthand. And I’m not one who’s easily charmed.”
“Fine, I’ll see what I can pick from them, then,” he concedes.
“Kidding aside, I think you’ll be fine, Mr. Jeon. Plus, it’s unrelated to work so there’s no need to impress anyone,” you state. 
“True,” he hums. “But just thinking about these next few days is already making me tired. Tae rented a yacht for tonight. We have Seokjin’s launch tomorrow, and to celebrate, he’s throwing another party the day after.”
“Hmm, must be that you’re getting old,” you tease, earning you a hum in agreement. “But you’re used to that though, right? They always said that was your life back in Singapore.”
“It was. I had less responsibilities and people to manage but back then, everything seemed too much,” he shares. “I took the weekends seriously and really just did whatever I wanted. I haven’t done much of that these past weeks because I’ve been so tired and I feel like I’m under the microscope when I’m here. So yeah, I’ll probably just take advantage of being back there and just enjoy it.”
“As you should,” you say. “You’ve worked hard and you deserve to spend your weekend however you wish. Just, uh…”
“What?”
“Probably give Lucas a heads-up in case a half-naked woman greets him in the kitchen on Monday morning.”
The silence is deafening and you think you’ve crossed a line with this one. You turn towards him and he looks stunned at your unfiltered remark.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you bow in apology. “That was too personal.”
“It’s okay,” he responds after a beat of silence. “I guess I deserve that. I mean, I never apologized for the morning when you experienced exactly that. And for when you found that underwear on the floor, which I forgot to clean up. So, uh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, too. I got over it,” you assure him. “And if anything, I’m pretty sure she left that on purpose so she’ll have a reason to come back.”
“That’s exactly it,” he groans. “She saw me again and wanted to go to my apartment so she could get it. I told her I threw it away.”
“How brutal,” you tease again.
“Not my finest moment but yeah, I’m sorry to put you in that position. Must’ve been tough seeing proof of all the washroom gossip.”
“You know about those?” You gasp. 
“I’ve heard about them,” he sighs. “Mr. Ri’s got eyes and ears in the office.”
“It’s hard to defend so I just don’t try,” the older man shakes his head. “Not like you deny it anyway.”
“Not like I really care,” Jungkook shrugs. “But even then, I guess it wasn’t the best start for us,” he tells you.
“Perhaps not, but I’m not one to judge, Mr. Jeon. That’s all in the past now, and that feels like a lifetime ago.”
“It does,” he hums. 
It’s during these casual exchanges when you get to see a bit more of Jungkook as the person that he is, beyond the perfectionist executive who still harbors fears and worries about his new role. He’s still a human being who finds ways to deal with the stresses of life, someone who needs time to step away from his burdensome responsibilities, someone who seeks intimacy and connection and finds ways to attain them in his own ways. The doubts and worries are still there, but the foundation has stabled a bit. Somehow you think that you’ve created a space safe enough for him to talk about them, to apologize, and to try to be better. You hope he gets to create that for himself, too, and if that’s what you’ll leave him with by the time you decide to step away from this job, you think you’d be satisfied. 
Silence engulfs you both and like he often is after being vulnerable with you, he keeps to himself once again. You wait a while before running through his meetings for today and next week and inform him of what the team will be working on while he’s away. Jungkook responds with a few last-minute instructions, especially about the tasks he needs done in time for your team meeting on Monday. You’re both back to professional talk and you don’t really mind; there’s something about being honest and open that could be a bit disarming.
The car stops and Mr. Ri exits to retrieve the luggage from the trunk. Jungkook, in his navy blue suit, gathers his things and says goodbye. Before he can close the door, you call out his name.
“Yeah?” He asks, his one hand carrying his bag and the other, on the roof of the car as he bends to look at you.
“Happy birthday,” you say. “I know you think it’s just an ordinary day but I hope you celebrate well.”
“Thank you,” he says after a few seconds, basking in the softness of your smile for the short moment that he can.
Jungkook steps away then closes the door. He heads to the airport lounge before taking the 6-hour flight to Singapore, spending it on reviewing reports and design proposals. He goes straight to the office when he lands, settling down in his room where he responds to emails. He munches on some dumplings for lunch, thinking he’s missed the ones from the restaurant across the street, but then Lucas enters and sets down a bowl of seaweed soup.
“Ms. Cho asked me to get this for you, Mr. Jeon.”
Jungkook is caught off guard but manages to dismiss Lucas and tastes the dish. It’s nothing like his mother’s, but then again, he hasn’t had it in years. When Jungkook moved here, there were no celebrations apart from getting drunk at a club, which is also why he’d stopped thinking of his birthday as anything special. There were no traditional meals or well wishes or birthday cakes.
He’s here again. There’s that yacht party tonight but it won’t feel like a celebration. Somehow, with this bowl of soup, this does. You’re a thousand miles away but even then, he still feels your presence. Even then, he feels more cared for than he has these past several years combined.
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Jungkook wakes up the next morning with a splitting headache. His neck feels a bit strained, given that he’d slept in an awkward position wearing his clothes from last night. He also barely remembers much. One minute he was drinking with a woman around his arm and the next he’s… here. 
He shifts and lays flat on his back, groaning as last night’s happenings manifest in the soreness of his entire body. The yacht was fancy, as he’d expected from his best friends. There was overflowing food and drinks, the music was great, and the guests were honestly too many for his liking. There were familiar faces and new ones, but he mostly stuck around with those he knew. What he also remembers is not being able to taste his cake. He’s definitely calling Seokjin to complain.
Suddenly hit with the thought of not knowing how he’d gotten home last night - or with whom - Jungkook sits up and groans once more, the incoming call adding to the ringing sound in his head.
“Mr. Jeon,” Lucas answers on the other end. “How are you feeling today?”
“Terrible,” Jungkook says, now finding the strength to get off the bed. “Did you take me home?”
“Yes, sir. You wanted to leave so Mr. Ri and I took you to your penthouse,” Lucas answers. “Your valuables are on the table.”
Jungkook sighs, knowing it was one of those nights. Removing his clothes, he sees the fresh marks on his chest. Wanting to prepare himself before finding some stranger in the other room, he asks his assistant if he’d brought someone home with him.
“No, sir. It was just you. She, uh, she asked to come but you told her you were too tired so she stayed behind.”
“Oh, good,” Jungkook exhales in relief, not wanting to deal with any of that this morning, which is one reason why he always asks them to leave. “How long do I have until I have to get ready for tonight?”
“About five hours,” the younger man replies. “You have a scheduled dinner with your friends at 5:30 and then the event at 8. I’ll be there before that to help you get ready.”
“Alright, thanks. I’ll just workout to deal with this hangover.”
“Medicines are in the cupboard, sir. Please just let me know if there’s anything more you need.”
“I will.”
Jungkook hangs up and presses on his temples as if that’ll do anything. He retrieves the medicine as advised and thinks of something else he needs - a cup of lemon ginger tea. Ever since you’d prepared one for him that one morning, he’s been having it after every night out. He calls the butler to have it prepared for him, given that he doesn’t have the energy to do so himself. 
It arrives, and coupled with the aspirin, he’s starting to somehow feel better. He knows that heading to the gym will do the trick, as it always does, but it still makes him think that he shouldn’t have drank as much as he did last night. 
For someone who’s not particularly fond of people, even Jungkook sometimes wonders why he goes out and parties as much as he does. 
He wasn’t always like this though. His weekends used to be spent on food trips and travels, but after the breakup with Chaerin, those days became free, and he’d stay out late so he could sleep the rest of the next day. The women were to make up for the loneliness; the alcohol was to forget why he needed them in the first place. He hates loud and unnecessary sounds, but the music and the chatter started to become white noise for him; they’d become a companion to help deal with the noise in his own head, or the lack of it. 
Years later, the remaining thoughts in his mind were just all about work, and he’d revert to the same habit for relief - the women became his thrill; the alcohol was so he wouldn’t remember them. 
And it works. The ecstasy lasts only through the night. It’s fleeting as his desire for them is. He doesn’t recall names, just that they made him feel good and that they felt the same; they often try to hook up with him again after all, seeking him in the clubs they know he frequents. But he rarely entertains them; a second time leads to a third, and he can’t be assured that they won’t ask the same tiring questions he hates hearing - why doesn’t he have a girlfriend? Why doesn’t he want to commit to anyone? Does he see himself settling down and having a family? What’ll make him want that?
It’s happened a few times, during the rare instances that there’s a lull in between and they take advantage of his brief period of vulnerability to make him open up. He never does, and it’s not because he thinks it’s a weakness to do so, but he just never really let the moment linger to find out. 
After a light meal, Jungkook heads to the gym and spends three hours expending his energy so he could get it back. 
This is his other means of dealing with his stress. Working out makes him focus on something else and it helps in releasing all his anger and frustration. As he stares at his bare body in the mirror right after - the marks from last night still visible - he scoffs at himself. 
He’s so stereotypical, it makes him sick. He’s allowed himself to let his life revolve around the shallow and fleeting sensations of pleasure to counter the permanence and inevitability of his job. This is his world and he made it this way. And while he drowns in the nothingness inside the walls that he created, he still thinks it’s better than being outside; somehow he thinks it’s lonelier and more burdensome out there. At least in here, he’s all he has to deal with; he’s all he can disappoint.
But there are still moments when he wonders what it could be like if he just dared to live differently. Like when he watches Seokjin animatedly explain the history and creation process of Korean traditional alcohol during the product launch that evening and how his passion is moving and infectious. Or when he observes how Taehyung freely moves around the club and makes connections with others as deep as his smile. 
Jungkook thinks about all this as he glances at the woman next to him later that night, bare under the covers like he is, her body curled into a cocoon as she takes a break. 
She’d caught his eye earlier because she wasn’t trying to get his attention like the others were. She spoke less and screamed more, let him do what he wanted but touched him softly as she pleased.
“You’re a good lover. Why do you waste yourself with something temporary like me?” She’d asked. 
It left him speechless and he shrugged - a change from his usual dismissal - but there’s really nothing to say. 
Why does he? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to. 
But it’s at this moment that he tries to imagine what it would be like if it were the same face he saw next to him every morning, if it were the same hand he held everyday, if it were the same warm body he curled into every night. His mind wanders too far, into the depths of a place it can’t go to, beyond boundaries he can’t cross, and the sight is both terrifying and calming. 
It’s safer where he is.
So when she wakes up from a short nap, she looks up at him, her soft eyes wishing for something she knows she shouldn’t.
“You should go,” he says, the softest he’s ever uttered the words. 
“Okay,” she whispers in submission. 
She gets up from the bed, finds her stray clothes on the floor, and puts them on. Jungkook follows her to the door, a first for him. Maybe it’s her gentleness, or the unspoken understanding between them, or maybe because she doesn’t ask for more even if she seems to want to. 
But though he contemplates pulling her back to try to feel what that’s like - seeing her in the morning, holding her hand, curling into her embrace - he doesn’t. He knows even that desire would end; it’s fleeting just as everything around him is.  
He holds open the door. She turns around with a smile.
“I hope someday you find someone you’ll ask to stay,” she says, surprising him again. “I’m sure they would.”
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You walk around the store in awe of the luscious plants displayed on the shelves, your eyes as bright as the lights that shine over them. There are so many to choose from, and though you have an idea of what you want to have, it’s tough deciding which ones to get right now. The money tree is a must, so is the Chinese evergreen. But do you go for the orchid or the peace lily? Can you keep up with a spider plant? How many of the asparagus ferns should you get?
Your eyes flit from one plant to the next, eventually deciding on getting everything on your list then placing them on the cart for payment. 
Jimin chuckles next to you. “Since when were you a plant mom?”
“Since she got that aloe vera from Yoongi and she was convinced that she has a green thumb after it didn’t die,” Soomin deadpans next to you as you frown at her sarcasm. “That’s also after my weekly reminders to water the plant because ‘no care’ doesn’t actually mean it’s going to survive on its own.”
“Oh, shush,” you scoff at her. “You told me I was doing a good job.”
“You’d send a photo every few days, hun,” she laughs. “What else was I supposed to say?”
“True. I needed the encouragement,” you shrug, paying for your haul. “But also, I’m a plant newbie. Yoongi said that I probably need some of them at home and in the office for positive energy and he’s not wrong. All the frustration from months ago just accumulated in my apartment and I need a change.”
“So… Is Yoongi a plant dad, too?” Soomin wonders.
“No. He just knows about a lot of things,” you reply. “Plus, he’s an architect and a designer. He knows a thing or two about plant decor.”
“Why isn’t he here with you, then?” She arches an eyebrow.
“Because I’m with both of you, duh,” you roll your eyes. “And before you say anything more, I don’t really like mixing my work friends with my personal friends. It’s different.”
“Well, I’m glad we could join you on this new phase of your life,” Jimin tries to be encouraging. “It’s like turning over a new leaf.”
You scold him over his terrible pun but laugh anyway, enjoying the comfort and playfulness that only your best friends could bring. They picked you up from work last Friday then you all headed to a club after dinner. You spent yesterday at a beach at their insistence then stayed in during the evening. It’s now Sunday and you’re dragging them around as you run errands before saying goodbye to them again, and it’s not a normal day without Soomin mentioning Yoongi. Perhaps it’s because of all the guys you’ve mentioned that have taken interest in you, he’s the only true green flag; he’s also the only one you didn’t entertain at all. You suppose that’s something she’ll not really get over. 
The three of you head to a nearby cafe. Jimin excitedly talks about the latest menu item in their chain of restaurants while Soomin groans about the stuff she has to deal with as she manages her family-owned shipping company that’s the biggest in the port city of Busan. They turn to you and ask how the rest of your week is going to go, with slightly surprised looks when you don’t talk about work with as much disdain as you used to. There’s excitement, even, something that Soomin points out, and when you mention that Jungkook is on an overseas trip, she assumes that’s the reason why.
“Not really,” you clarify. “He arrives tomorrow evening, but the week’s packed - we’re visiting the Arts Center for inspection and then I’m doing an ocular with Chin-sun for the VP events we’re holding in the next few months. I mean, I won’t be buried in files nor will I be in meetings all week. So yeah, it’s not bad.”
“That’s good,” Jimin beams. “At least it’s nothing like how it used to be. Right?”
“It’s a lot better, I told you guys,” you say, reminding them of a similar talk you had the last time they were here, which was a week after you’d gotten sick. “Jungkook is… rational, less grumpy and impulsive; he also listens to me and trusts me. He’s even smiled a few times.”
“Wow, he really set the bar low for you, huh,” Jimin chuckles, earning him a nod.
“Does that also mean that he’s now completely bearable and no longer your type because he’s not an asshole anymore?” Soomin chimes in, being the blunt and bold one among the three of you.
“He never was my type in the first place,” you scowl. “Plus, he’s literally my boss, Soo. That’s like, not some flag, it’s a whole ass brick wall that shall not be crossed.”
“Right. That’s why Mr. Min didn’t make the cut,” she points out. “Told you you should’ve just quit your job so you could date him.”
“And I also told you that wasn’t the only reason why I didn’t want to,” you remind her. “Yoongi’s exactly the type of person I need in my life, and being more than friends is the surefire way of making sure that doesn’t happen. Like, why would I risk a good friendship for something that may not work out? Whether I break his heart or he breaks mine, it’s pain I can’t handle. There’s just no going back from there.”
“Right, that is your biggest fear,” Soomin replies softly, the sympathetic tone in her voice telling you that she does understand where you’re coming from. “I mean, it’s still possible that you wouldn’t hurt each other but I get it. It just sucks, I guess. The good ones often start as your friends.”
“I know. And I’d rather have them and be single than none at all,” you sigh. 
The thought is simpler than it seems. You won’t deny that you’ve thought of how things would’ve been if you gave Yoongi a chance, but the fear of what you’d lose always trumped that type of possibility. 
There’s a kind of pain you don’t want to experience, one of a broken heart caused by losing someone you’ve given your all to. It’s how you think you love, after all; you can’t give any less. But it’s also why you’ve never done it. No one’s inspired that kind of devotion for you. 
Soomin has pointed out before that it’s probably also because you don’t open yourself up to the possibilities as you should. Maybe you’ve just been too focused on other things. But maybe you also just haven’t felt the kind of all-consuming desire for someone who would be worth it, one you’d want so much that you’d willingly face the fear of paralyzing heartbreak just to be with them. 
You suppose that’s the difference. That’s the irony, too. You’re scared to love because you’re scared of the pain, so you keep your distance to keep yourself safe but it’s also why you haven’t found someone you’re willing to crawl out of your walls for.  
There’s not much you feel passionate about in life. Maybe it’s love. But you’re too cautious to feel it, to look for it, so you don’t really know. Maybe it’s something else completely, and working in the environment that you do hinders you from discovering it. You’ve kept your distance from a lot of things over the past years and the thought that one day, you’ll be able to feel free from all the burden you carry because of a past you couldn’t control, makes you look forward to the day when you get to walk away from all those and hopefully, find whatever it is you’re looking for. 
Jimin nudges you after you zone out, and you switch the subject and ask about the latest gossip in their hometown. You enjoy living vicariously through their social life back in Busan. They not only come out here to Seoul to see you but also to take a break from all the drama that they can’t really escape from, given the type of people in their circle of friends. You always thank the heavens you got lucky that at 10 years old and making a new life in a new city, you found Soomin and Jimin, perhaps the only other people aside from your mother who make you feel safe and protected, a feeling you don’t take for granted. 
They indulge you and share some stories, but when Soomin goes through her social media feed to show you something, she gasps instead when she realizes that the men in her friend’s Instagram post include Jungkook.
“Did your boss just go there to party?” She asks, showing you the photo.
“Partly,” you reply. “His best friend hosted the launch of his alcohol line there but there are a couple more parties because it’s his birthday weekend. Your friends went?”
“Yeah, some of them are Kim Seokjin’s friends, apparently,” Soomin says. “Small world. But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. Seoul and Busan socialites attract each other.”
“Why aren’t you there, then?” You chuckle. 
“We’re choosy socialites,” Jimin clarifies. “Or like, pretentious. We just act like we are but we really aren’t, just to say that the Park and Cheon kids are interesting and sociable like the rest of them.”
“Who says they’re interesting and sociable?” Soomin states incredulously. “My eyes roll to the back of my head every time I’m in those shitty events. The lack of self-awareness of rich people repulses me. And I obviously don’t count us in.”
“And you shouldn’t,” you confirm. “I attract good people, I guess. I’m glad you’re not like them.”
“Well, what about Jungkook’s friends?” Jimin asks. “How are they like?”
“What I can say about the Kim brothers is that they’re nice people,” you say. “Very charming, ridiculously good-looking... And they sound like good friends, too. I can’t say much else. Their dating game is pretty strong though.”
“I’d assume. I mean, when you look like that, how could you not be?” Soomin states. “I mean, even Jungkook’s on point. That’s some hot girl he’s got.”
She shows you a couple of Instagram stories from her friends posting about the launch party. It turns out, there were a lot of Korea-based personalities who were invited. You spot Jungkook immediately, wearing the all-white ensemble that you packed for him the other day. His hair is a bit curled and the knitted top underneath the simple coat highlights his taut physique. There’s also that gorgeous woman around his arms, and if what you know about him is enough, you’d guess she’s probably one of those he seeks for a good time. 
The sight of him loosening up a bit and enjoying himself is something you appreciate. He’s always stressed when he’s here and you’re glad he could spend a few days partying elsewhere without having to think about work, especially during the week of his birthday. You don’t know how much of this aspect of his life he enjoys, but he does seem a bit free yet still somehow detached. You suppose that’s something he’ll always be - a man trying to live his life while separating himself from the meaning of it. You’re unsure of how he does it but perhaps it’s not that different from how you are, too. 
After lunch, Soomin and Jimin do a few more of your errands with you before dropping you home and then heading back to theirs. You spend the rest of the evening arranging your plants in your tiny apartment and feeling like more life is breathed into it with every one of them finding their home in a corner or on a shelf. Oddly enough, you feel a bit less lonely. That’s how you think you’ve been doing things, after all - finding substitutes for the kind of company you’re yearning for, for the kind of relationship you’re so afraid to have.
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Jungkook wakes up that Monday morning feeling a lot better than he did the days before. For one, there’s no ringing in his head nor the feeling of dehydration. Bare under his soft covers, there also aren’t any fresh marks on his chest that signify the kind of night he usually has. In fact, he remembers most of it - he stayed by the bar and briefly chatted with the women who’d approached him. 
Suzy was there last night, too, the only one he’s hooked up with more than once, and probably the only one he’s had proper conversations with, given that she’s a landscape designer. She’s been away on business trips and had just gone back, her bluntness about going back to his apartment that she’s too familiar with being met with a rejection that she didn't take personally. 
“Has Seoul changed you?” She asked, her eyebrow arched in anticipation of his reply.
“Do you think a place would do that to me?” He laughed.
“No, but a person would,” she shrugged. 
“None of that,” he shook his head. “There’s no one. I’m too busy, too tired.”
“But not too lonely?” she asked. “It’s the only reason why you would call me.”
There was no bitterness in her words but still, he asked. “And why did you always come, then?”
“To see if each time would be good enough for you to not make me leave.” 
The conversation took a turn that he didn’t expect, the usual honesty in her words being too honest for him. He fumbled for something to say but she shook him off, claiming that she knew what she was getting into every time he took her home and that constantly hoping for something doesn’t guarantee that she’d get it one day. 
He drank a couple of glasses of whiskey after she left but managed to call his butler for a sandwich and lemon ginger tea in time for his arrival at his penthouse. The meal did the trick, as he’d slept soundly after a warm bath without a splitting headache and regrets the next day. 
It’s Monday, after all, and it’s back to work as usual. He has a few meetings to attend before flying back to Seoul, one of which is with the team. He gathers the energy to get off the bed for a half-hour exercise before getting ready. He eats the breakfast that the butler orders for him then heads to the office where he briefly meets with Lucas. 
Settled on his desk, he proceeds to virtually meet with the team, who all promptly greet him from the conference room. He asks how their weekend was, with most of them looking surprised because he rarely asks them about it, but they answer anyway. That’s when he notices that you’re not around, prompting him to look for you.
“I’m here, Mr. Jeon,” you answer off camera before appearing on screen with a candle-lit cake in your hands.
He’s surprised when the team sings him a happy birthday, your eyes fixed on him as you mouth the words with a soft smile on your face. Do-hyun giggles at his silence, saying that he probably forgot it was his birthday or he maybe didn’t expect that they’d prepare something for him. 
“We like you now, Mr. Jeon,” she teases, earning him a nudge from Chin-sun but she doesn’t seem to mind and neither does he. 
It’s what makes him laugh, hoping that the pink on his cheeks aren’t visible on screen. He hadn’t expected this. He also knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he’d bet that you had everything to do with this.
“You’ve probably been too busy to celebrate but we haven’t forgotten. More like, Ms. Cho made sure we remembered,” Manager Lee chuckles. “We hope you enjoy this little something we prepared.”
“It’s an ice cream cake so it’ll just be in your refrigerator and you can have some when you return,” you say. 
“Thank you,” he finally manages to say. “You didn’t have to but I appreciate it. I’m looking forward to having some when I get back. Ms. Cho should also buy another one big enough for the team to share.”
You nod in acknowledgment of his instruction before starting with the meeting. There’s a lot to talk about, given the Arts Center construction and activities, as well as the upcoming year-end events that they have to organize and coordinate. It goes on for over two hours and it ends with your gentle smile after he says goodbye.  
The rest of the day feels too long for Jungkook, especially during the late afternoon flight and eventual ride home. He stares at the photo you sent of the cake, making sure he sees the greeting on it. 
“Get home safely, Mr. Jeon,” you text him after he says thanks. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With the reminders of the impermanence of things and people this weekend, Jungkook finds comfort in the stability that you provide. It’s in your smile, in your reminders and organization of his life, in your thoughtfulness and patience. It’s in the assurance that tomorrow is another day, one in which he gets to see you once again.
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The cake is simple but sophisticated. The mint chocolate flavor is exactly how he likes it and in ice cream cake form, it’s really delicious. He’s glad he gets to have this all for himself, as the team was able to enjoy one yesterday as per his instruction, and you’d sent a group photo of everyone enjoying it to him, the small smile that formed on his face no longer surprising him. 
For one, the comfort is there. He’s seen just how much better the team is working together because of it - they’re more open to giving him feedback and receiving his, any moment of frustration is easily mended with laughter, and his encouragement and affirmation have been motivating them as well. In the midst of it is you who makes sure that communication flows smoothly and that everything is on track, acting as the glue that keeps everyone together. 
He sees firsthand just how good you are at handling things, and how despite all the stress, you manage to get him seaweed soup and a cake for his birthday. It’s more than just the details regarding work that you’re on top of; it’s also details about his life, and how he’s responding to it tells him that maybe, whatever change there is like what Suzy observed, a big part of it is because of you.
“I’m glad you like it, Mr. Jeon,” your voice cuts through his thoughts. 
He looks up and sees you with a portfolio in hand, motioning towards the cake that’s now one fourth eaten.
“Ah, yeah,” he says, not denying it. “I feel like I haven’t had sweets in a while. Where did you buy this?”
“Oh, uh, I asked the baker who made desserts for the Arts Center event if she could make a customized ice cream cake,” you explain. “Fortunately she could. And thankfully it’s delicious. She enjoyed working with us so she gave us a discount.”
“You… had this made for me?”
He’d expected it to be store-bought, but learning you made the effort to reach out to someone reminds him once more of your thoughtfulness, of your care.
“Yes, I, uh, I just assumed you’d receive a few and I thought to give you something a little different.”
“It’s the only one I got actually,” he says, catching you off guard. Your face falls a little so he follows it up. “Like I told you, I don’t celebrate my birthday so I don’t let people know about it. And the ones who do also know that I don’t make a big deal out of it so they don’t really give me anything.”
“Oh,” you say, feeling a little sad. 
You’re not one to have big celebrations but you do have a bit of it. For your 30th birthday at the start of the year, Jimin and Soomin threw you a little party in your humble home in Daegu where they performed some of your favorite songs and enacted your favorite drama scenes to make you happy. There was no need for anything fancy - just your loved ones and your mom’s and Min-woo’s amazing cooking. 
But even before that milestone, your friends always made sure to at least get you seaweed soup and a birthday cake; they want you to remember that there are lives impacted because you were born. You can’t really say that Jungkook’s impacted your life the same way but you still value his existence; a small cake is just a little something to celebrate that. But the idea that his family and friends pass up on the cake - and perhaps the gifts, too - makes you think that there’s really not much in Jungkook’s life he feels he could share with others, that there’s not much he could give and receive in return. 
“I hope I didn’t cross a line if it’s something you don’t like people knowing,” you continue. “I just thought… it would be nice to receive something from us.”
“It actually was,” he admits, his voice soft and low. Turning away, he says, “it’s been a while since I actually thought about my birthday as anything other than ordinary. It’s nice to be reminded sometimes. So thank you, Ms. Cho. For the soup, too. I appreciate it.”
Perhaps it’s his honesty that does it, but you can’t help the smile that forms on your face. If learning how to express gratitude is something you could teach him, you already feel accomplished. 
It’s the next day when you find yourself back in Jungkook’s office, staring at the potted plant in your hands. You’ve gone from debating on whether to leave it on his desk or the coffee table, to even giving it at all. You won’t lie and say you didn’t know what you were thinking when you passed by the plant store after work last night to get this specifically for him. You did - you wanted him to feel that joy of receiving a gift, which you suppose doesn’t happen, especially for someone who can literally buy anything he wants. 
But still, it doesn’t mean that your good intention will be received well. You’ve given Hoseok a small gift every year for his birthday, partly because he likes receiving them and also because it’s your way of saying thanks. 
You want to give this to Jungkook as a form of gratitude, too. Despite how you both started, the amount of things you’ve learned from him and continue to have somehow made up for it, and you also know that he’s learning from you as well. He’s given you agency to make decisions. He’s also given you events and small projects to manage, making you realize it’s what you really enjoy doing. Seeing things come together the way you envisioned it is so satisfying. Perhaps without intending it, Jungkook’s showed you a way out, a path that you want to explore so much that you’re willing to let go of all that you know in this company for something new, for something that feels more like you. 
Your thoughts have completely digressed and with the time you took debating and reflecting, you hadn’t heard his footsteps, and so you jerk a little when he calls out your name.
Turning around, you bow in greeting, remembering at the same time that you have something that you’re not 100% sure yet you want to give right now. But as always, he calls you out on it. 
“Is that a snake plant?” He asks, walking towards his seat.
“Yes.”
“Is that the one on your desk?”
“Uh, no, actually,” you laugh dryly, knowing you can’t turn back from it now. “I… I meant to give it to you, sir. I just thought that, uh, the money tree on the shelf might be too lonely so I got you a desk plant. I heard it’s good for positive energy and to filter the air.”
“It is,” he hums. “Is that why you got yourself one?”
“I suppose. I figured it could help improve my mood. Yoongi suggested it before but I just kept pushing it back. I finally got some for my apartment last weekend,” you explain, just so he knows it didn’t come out of nowhere. 
“And you think this will improve my mood?” He arches an eyebrow. 
“Maybe,” you shrug. “We’ll probably need a dozen of them here but we could start with one.”
He matches your soft laughter with his own, which you’re thankful for. He reaches out for the plant, nonchalant like you when your fingers brush against each other. 
“Hopefully this will work,” he says as he places the small, white pot next to his desktop. 
You leave him so he could prepare for a conference call while you’re set to meet with the marketing team. Jungkook gazes at the plant and notices the little note attached to the string around the stem. 
Happy birthday, it reads. 
This wasn’t just something to match the money tree that Hoseok left for him that he hasn’t been caring for much. This was a gift for him. You probably assume that if he doesn’t receive birthday cakes, he wouldn’t be receiving gifts, either. And you’d be right. His best friends just throw him parties. And once he left Seoul to obtain his MBA in Singapore and stayed to work in their Southeast Asian headquarters, the distance between him and his parents grew. They’d reach out but he didn’t bother much, so he’d stopped expecting anything. After he broke up with Chaerin, he stopped receiving anything at all. This is the first time he’s gotten something from someone after a long time. 
It’s simple in its meaning and honest in its intention, and he doesn’t hold back the smile that forms on his face.
You watch the realization dawn on Jungkook from outside. You’d remembered the silly note you left right as you sat down and didn’t have time to take it back, which really wasn’t much, but you suppose it’s enough to tell him that the plant indeed is a gift. You don’t know if someone like him even receives them, or would even appreciate something so cheap and humble, but the gentle smile he has on tells you that he probably doesn’t get much, but that this is something he welcomes. 
Your smile follows soon after but it feels different this time. There’s pride somehow that your little gift could elicit something so rare out of him. There’s also a bit of awe; this is the softest he’s ever looked, with that tinge of gratitude and yearning, a complete contrast to what you know of him, to how you’ve always seen him. It’s… it’s actually beautiful. 
And this is when things start to get confusing, especially as your phone beeps with that SMS from him.
[From: The Boss] Thank you, ___.
It’s the non-work message. It’s the use of your name. This is personal for him and you acknowledge that it’s the same for you. Perhaps there’s a reason why you made the effort to get the gift last night, why it mattered to you that he received something to celebrate his birthday, and why seeing him appreciate it the way he does is making you giddy and satisfied at the same time. 
Maybe it’s the care you’re starting to feel for him that’s beyond just wanting to make your job bearable. You’ll dissect what that truly means later on, but right now it’s just you, him, and the glass wall in between the both of you. There’s distance, there’s a boundary, but there’s a transparent barrier that allows you to see what’s on the other side, one which allows you to know who he is behind the man you’ve come to know. And you admit, he’s not so bad after all.
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The construction of the Arts Center is going better than expected. Given some of the delays due to the wrong materials delivered and some permits that took a while to get, the workers were able to make up some ground, largely due to Jungkook’s supervision. When you both visited a few weeks ago, there were many things to work on, and he managed to identify the priorities and find ways to get the project back on track. 
It was during those few days of constantly being on site that you saw how efficient and effective he really works. You admired his precision and attention to detail, how he instructed the team leads and project managers and laborers, how he put together the design of one of the rooms just as he’d envisioned it. 
He was commanding and decisive, and you appreciated his thorough and simple explanations that allowed you to keep up with him. He’s said that he wants you to understand what’s happening so that you’re well-informed should you need to communicate to others on his behalf, and what initially intimidated you turned into something you became interested in. Since then, you’ve been watching design shows to help you further. The challenge was welcomed, and now you feel like everyday, you’re learning something new on the job. 
His instructions from that time were followed, and you’re back today to inspect the rest of the spaces. Everything is so massive, and with one half of the wall of the performance hall already done, you can clearly see the upgrade. The details are impressive, and the way that the traditional designs merge with modern elements is a feature itself. 
You’re immersed in the intricacies of the ceiling, walking towards the wall to get a closer look that you don’t immediately notice the workers walking past you with a massive slab of marble. The moment that you do, you step back too quickly, tripping on your heels, and just as you brace yourself to hit the ground, you instead feel your back against a firm chest, with hands on your elbows breaking your fall.
You sigh in relief, even leaning your head back because nothing could be more embarrassing than falling on your ass in front of many people, including your boss. That is, until the familiar scent of jasmine and bergamot wafts through your nose and you realize that what you just did is debatably more embarrassing than what could’ve happened. 
The familiar clearing of the throat is what finally does it for you, and with wide eyes, you turn around and face him to apologize. 
“I’m sorry, sir. I—”
“Was so much in awe that you didn’t notice the workers passing by,” he finishes, his slightly teasing smile calming you down.
“Ah, well of course. The details are too pretty,” you reason, stepping back only a little. You look at him shyly. “But thank you. I was about to fall.”
“I know. And I was about to lose it if my assistant got injured on the job.”
“True. It’s bad publicity, I guess,” you shrug. “And distractions could cause delays. And that’s bad, too.”
“Or you know, I simply just can’t have you injured, simple as that,” he says with a little frown on his face. 
“Imagine if I didn’t see them? They could’ve dropped the marble and I would’ve completely lost it!”
“Why?” He arches an eyebrow.
“That slab is like, two months’ worth of salary, Mr. Jeon.”
“It’s actually more but that’s not the point,” he fully frowns now. “If you didn’t see them, then they could’ve hit you, and then you would be whining in pain right now. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, ___.”
His voice is firm and low, and you nod in acknowledgment because you also know he’s right. The workers’ vision was limited but yours wasn’t; you were just too distracted and if you hadn’t pulled early enough, that marble really could’ve done damage to you. And if it wasn’t for Jungkook catching your fall, then something bad still would’ve happened to you.
“But are you okay? You didn’t twist your ankle or anything?” He asks.
“No. Uh, the heel’s just a bit loose but I’m fine,” you reply, still trying to wrap your head around how he’d said your name - informally, in this setting, as he told you that you could’ve gotten hurt. Maybe you weren’t imagining the worried tone of his voice earlier.
“Okay,” he sighs. “You have to be careful next time.”
“I will, sir,” you reply. 
You step aside and Jungkook sees you from his peripheral vision as he returns to assessing, staying put and only glancing at the ceiling unlike earlier. He’d seen you marvel at the design of the hall earlier, and while he was initially doing the same, seeing you wide-eyed and impressed caught his attention more. 
Many times, he’s seen you look dejected, frustrated, angry. He’s seen your moments of focus and joy, too, but this is the first time he’s seen you be in awe. There was this softness on your face that was still filled with emotion, and he’d been drawn to you enough to see that you were about to fall. He’s glad he has quick reflexes and was able to get to you in time, the worry he felt at the thought of you getting hurt in any way was quite overwhelming for him. And while it’s partly because you’re his responsibility in this case, he also knows it’s more than that. 
He gestures moving to another room and you follow him outside, and just as you try to stay close to him, Jungkook also makes sure you’re away from any kind of danger. He moves to your side when there are workers nearby with their heavy equipment and large materials. He shields you from the drilling. He glances at you as you both walk towards the other performance hall. And when you get there, you see the ceiling installation is ongoing, and Jungkook immediately calls for hard hats for the both of you. 
He hands you one and you put it on, fumbling with the strap underneath your chin. You groan in frustration when you’re unable to lock it, and that’s when you see him move towards you. 
“Let me,” he says.
You stop your movements and shyly nod in agreement, and he waits for you to let go before he fixes it himself. 
It’s a little odd being on the other side, since it’s always you who fixes his tie or his coat. But you’re the one watching him now, with his furrowed brows and seriousness in securing this safety gear on you making you feel warm inside.
He steps back then looks at you, trying hard to control his laughter.
“Are you laughing at me, sir?” You pout.
“No. I don’t make fun of people,” he says, turning serious now, but you don’t miss the grin on his face.
It’s unfair that he looks good even with a hard hat on.
One of the project managers calls him and he goes around, with you staying close by. This performance hall is bigger and boasts of a more traditional design, which would hold the cultural performances that the Culture Minister is very excited about. You watch Jungkook inspect the space with thoroughness, checking each wall panel and each seat. 
It’s amazing to you just how involved he is with this project even with the project managers handling things relatively well. He wants to be on top of everything, he’s said; it matters too much for him to not know what’s going on. 
You see Yoongi enter the room and approach him. Once he sees you, he laughs as well.
“Do I look that bad?” You groan. “Mr. Jeon was laughing at me, too.”
“It’s a little big, and I guess I’m just not used to seeing you in one,” Yoongi shrugs.
“Why don’t you have one?”
“I don’t need it. I’m here all the time and nothing happens.”
“Well, I’ve been here a few times and I almost fell earlier,” you say, recalling the almost-embarrassment.
“I know, I saw it,” he chuckles.
“You were there?!” You gasp.
“No, I was totally in the other room that’s why I witnessed you almost get hit by the marble then trip on yourself,” he deadpans. 
“I didn’t see you, that’s all,” you shrug. 
“I was by the doors. I checked these spaces yesterday and I just wanted to be around in case Jungkook had new instructions,” he explains. “But I gotta say, you guys were kinda cute earlier.”
“Almost falling on my ass isn’t cute, Min Yoongi,” you scowl. “I could’ve either ruined the marble slab or hurt my bum. Either way, it would’ve been embarrassing.”
“I didn’t mean just you. I meant you guys,” he gestures towards Jungkook. “He caught you, didn’t he?”
“Yes… That was embarrassing, too,” you frown. “What’s cute about that?”
“He looked worried. It’s just not something I’ve seen him be towards other people, that’s all.”
“It’s because an injured employee on site isn’t good, okay? Plus, if I’m incapable, then no one’s gonna be around to make his life easier,” you reason.
Yoongi stares at you for a while before shaking his head. “Wow, you really are dense.” 
“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you cross your arms in frustration. 
“Forget about it,” Yoongi shakes his head, deciding not to push it. 
He’ll tell you another time that he’s glad you’re becoming more of yourself again, that the light has somehow come back, that there’s now comfort you exude around the man you’d once despised. Yoongi feels assured now that there’s someone else who seems to be looking out for you, and that it’s something you don’t seem to mind at all.
“Yah! You’re being all mysterious again!” You pout, something he chuckles about. 
“Me? Mysterious? Come on. I’ve always been an open book,” he teases. 
You’re just about to nag him again when you hear Jungkook clear his throat, and you turn towards him and ask if he’s already done inspecting.
“There are still a few things I want to run by my design lead before leaving,” Jungkook says. “Please move my meeting to 3PM.”
“That’s noted, sir. I’ll give Mr. Hong’s assistant a call.”
You excuse yourself and step outside, leaving both men alone.
“Angering my assistant, are you?” Jungkook asks Yoongi, the curious yet playful tone in his voice evident.
“Nah, just teasing. That a problem?” Yoongi answers back. 
“No. It’s good she has someone she’s comfortable with at work.”
“Could be you, you know? That isn’t so bad,” Yoongi remarks, surprising him. “And it doesn’t cross whatever boundary you’re trying so hard to stay behind.”
“We’re not… on that level. I mean, I don’t know how to be someone other people are comfortable being around,” Jungkook admits.
“I don’t know about that. Seems like you’re already that for her,” Yoongi says. “I was just teasing her about how you guys looked cute earlier, when you broke her fall.”
“You were there?”
“Both of you really don’t notice other people when it’s just both of you, huh,” Yoongi laughs. “But yeah, I was. I saw her relief. And I saw you worry.”
Jungkook merely shrugs, not wanting to confirm. Even if he denies it, Yoongi will still believe what he wants to believe. But the older man knows you well just as much as he knows him. 
“You care about her, don’t you?” Yoongi responds to the silence. “And I mean not in a superficial way, or a good boss caring for his employee type of way. Like, you worry when she’s sick or overworking, when she’s hurt or in danger. You want her to always be safe, to get rest. You like having her near. You wanna know that she’s happy.”
“You know I can’t do that,” Jungkook finally answers. “I can’t think of her that way.”
“I know. That’s why you were the way you were,” Yoongi says. “How else do you respond to things you can’t control than through anger and detachment? But just because you shouldn’t, it doesn’t change the fact that you do.”
“It doesn’t change the fact that it’s wrong,” Jungkook counters.
“Well, irrationally calling her out and being angry were wrong, too, and you did those because you weren’t being honest with yourself,” Yoongi argues. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, the least you can do is be true to yourself about how you feel. Because the more you deny, then the more you resist, and when you do that, you end up hurting her. Is that what you want?”
“Of course not.”
“Then just… accept things - what you feel, what you both are, what you can or can’t be.”
Jungkook looks at his friend as if some epiphany had just transpired. It’s been difficult for him to make sense of what he feels around you. There’s always that air of familiarity, but the warmth and comfort are new. There’s the reality that you come from different worlds, but that you both somehow feel and experience and maybe desire the same things. There’s that sense of fear over change and of what he can’t control, yet you somehow provide the calm and stability that he hasn’t felt in a long time. 
It’s all these contradictions that have been messing with him, and Yoongi’s right - because of all the times that Jungkook had wanted to create that distance, all it did was hurt you. That’s the last thing he wants, he realizes now. He’s seen you struggle, and even if that’s just a fraction of what you normally go through, it’s enough to tell him that he doesn’t want you to experience that again, especially not because of him. It’s too early to say the extent of his care towards you, and it’s not something he’s willing or ready to explore right now. But just as Jungkook’s about to comfort himself that it’s fine, and that he shouldn’t dwell on it anyway so as not to further nurture it, Yoongi speaks again.
“Just… just a heads up, though,” he adds. “The care that I felt, that’s how it started for me.”
“What started?”
“Me, liking her.”
It’s at that moment when you come back from your call, and you inform Jungkook that the meeting’s been moved and that he has a scheduled one with some of the directors on Monday. 
“Alright,” he says, directing you and Yoongi towards the souvenir shop, temporarily disregarding what he was warned about.
“You two looked so serious. Everything okay?” You whisper to your friend. 
“Yeah,” Yoongi hums, giving you the most genuine smile he could give. 
There’s that sparkle and softness in your eyes that had captured him all those years ago. They dimmed throughout the years and they’ve just been sporadic, illuminating only during specific moments. He’d seen them again a lot more regularly, and even today, as you looked around the halls and admired the designs of the space. 
Yoongi doesn’t know if a certain person is the reason for that. He knows you enough that you wouldn’t even notice it, so you definitely wouldn’t know what caused the change. But as your friend, he hopes one day you will, so that if you’re brave enough, too, you’d try to make sure that the light stays. 
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The inspection ends and you get back to the office at 4. You return to piles of documents you have to sift through and encode, and your original plan of leaving on time changes. 
Jungkook spends over an hour talking with Yoongi and the construction lead about the Arts Center, and once that’s over, you see just how exhausted he is. He’s massaging his temples and sighing deeply, and you know that whatever just transpired, he’s going to be thinking about it all throughout the weekend, which he doesn’t really have time for. The gala that one of the Board members throws annually is tomorrow night, an event you’ll be attending with him as well. 
You enter his room to remind him about it and to give some forms for his signature. He signs them off, and when you say you’ve got a few more requests that you’ll leave on his desk for Monday, he tells you to just wait until then.
“Go home, Ms. Cho,” he says. “It’s been a long week. And it won’t end until after tomorrow night.”
“What about you, Mr. Jeon?”
“I’ve got some stuff to sort through after inspection. I’ll probably leave in an hour or so.”
You frown, a mannerism of yours that he’s gotten used to seeing. It’s mixed with a pout that often makes him internally laugh because it seems unlike you. It also always means there’s something you want to say that you’re holding back.
“Should I not?” He arches an eyebrow.
“Hmm. Just thinking that it might be better for you to take a rest tonight, too,” you advise. “The gala could be quite draining and it would be good to save your energy for that.”
“I’ll think about it,” he hums.
“Then I’ll think about going home, too,” you answer back. 
Jungkook chuckles, knowing you’re always going to counter him in some way. And he’s glad that you do.
“You may go. And get a good rest, too.”
You nod and bid him goodbye, exiting the room to start packing your things. It’s five minutes later when the door opens and you see him with his bag, ready to head home as well.
You smile at his tender doe-eyes as he admits through them that you were right - he doesn’t have a reason to stay behind, so he’ll call it a night and get as much rest as he can. 
He pauses by the entryway, and you pick up that he’s waiting for you, perhaps to make sure that you’re indeed going home. You quicken your pace and walk next to him, steps in pace as you both go to the elevator and down to the lobby. 
“Mr. Ri can bring you home after me,” Jungkook says. “It’s late already.”
“Not late enough,” you reply. “I’m okay, Mr. Jeon. It’s not necessary.”
He concedes, and you wait for the car to arrive and say goodbye to him again. 
There’s a softness on his face as he lingers before he enters. A small smile forms, and it’s what you see until you fall asleep that night. It’s the same one that’s oddly been giving you comfort lately - it’s a little restrained but somehow it still looks vulnerable. Perhaps it represents how Jungkook’s been to you - there are some contradictions, but beyond all that, there’s care.
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Mr. Ri happily greets you as you enter the car that late Saturday afternoon to head to Jungkook’s penthouse. He compliments your dress, saying it’s nice to see you in something formal that fits your style - it’s simple yet elegant, and you tell him that your mother wouldn’t stop gushing over you through the screen, nagging you to send full-body photos so she could appreciate you more.
Jimin and Soomin surprised you in the morning to help you fix up, insisting that they wanted to make sure you spoiled yourself for the event. If you wouldn’t, they would, so they treated you to the hair salon and had your nails done. They’re the ones who took so many photos like some formal dance, and Jimin commented that the only downside was that they were sending you off to pick up Jungkook. 
Defending your boss the way you did surprised you a little; it surprised them a lot more. You’d said that he bought you the dress, that he’s been nothing but kind, and that whatever negative feelings you had towards him are all in the past. Your friends understood, deciding not to ruin your night and then letting you go so they could eat out and meet you back at your apartment once you’re done. 
You chat with Mr. Ri about how things have been at work, your friends, and your family. You also talk about the gala and how it feels a little nerve-racking attending this time, given your experience with Jungkook. 
It’s a grand event that the company’s executives attend, and guests are asked to refrain from going solo. For such requests, it’s not unusual for them to bring their assistants. You’re expected to attend anyway, and assistants usually partner up with each other and it always worked. You went with Hoseok last year because A-yeong had a work event, and while you expected that Jungkook wouldn’t care for such request and maintain that he’d go by himself, you also didn’t think that CEO Jeon would insist that his son take you as his date so he wouldn’t be alone. 
The elder Jeon had reasoned that business discussions usually take place during the gala, and it would be good for you to be around and be familiar with the new people on the scene. Hoseok had said that they’re expected to stay through the whole thing, and it’s much better for his cousin to have a companion so he could survive the night. That was months ago when things were still a little shaky for you both. You still remember Jungkook’s displeased look when it seemed like he had no choice in the matter, especially since he probably thought that his father just wanted to make sure he’d act accordingly. It feels like a lifetime ago, really, as you think about his soft smile from last night. 
You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, why his gestures or mannerisms suddenly mean something to you, or why there’s excitement when you think about seeing him outside of work. You’re unsure why the curve of his lips when he grins or the deep huff that follows his laugh makes you a little giddy, or why his eyes lingering on you makes your heart beat a little faster than usual.  
Just like right now, as they gaze at you while you seemingly do the same. 
“You look, uh—” he starts, unable to find the accurate but appropriate term to describe how you look. 
“Nice?” You finish, recalling the term he’d used when you tried this gown for the first time. 
“Something like that,” he chuckles, earning him a giggle from you.
He playfully shakes his head, perhaps knowing that you’re used to him not making grand compliments or anything. But he does smile after, and there goes that blissful feeling again. 
Maybe it’s because for the first time, you’re being appreciated. Maybe just like how it’s been recently, he likes being around you, prefers it, even. And given how you felt so unwanted during his first few weeks here, this is a blessing, as if in his appreciation of you, you’re liking yourself as well.
“Well, in my opinion, you look quite dashing, Mr. Jeon,” you say bravely. “Except your waistcoat seems to be uneven.”
“Exactly what I thought,” he sighs. “I can’t quite align it properly.”
And as you always do, you approach him, your hands immediately going towards his shoulders to flatten the vest, then his sides to pull it down. You adjust it a little bit more then fix his collar after, and suddenly this feels so natural - being close to him, taking in his scent, and smiling as he glances at you. 
“Do you need help with your coat?” You ask once you finish.  
He nods and you follow him to his walk-in closet where you take the last piece of clothing and assist him in wearing it. He adjusts the lapels while you assess if all wrinkles have been flattened. You watch him look at himself in the mirror and you can’t help but admire him as well. He exudes confidence, which you can say now is strikingly different from the Appointment Dinner where he still looked a bit unsure. But now, he commands respect. The deep black color of his striped three-piece ensemble with his slick hair parted in the middle makes him even more handsome, and you manage to hold in the gasp you were about to release as he faces you for a final look.
“All good?” He asks. 
“All good,” you smile, turning around and walking back to the living room. 
He follows, and he takes this time to bask in your beauty before he has to act like it doesn’t affect him again.
There’s a reason why he was rendered speechless the first time he saw you in this gown at the tailor shop, so much so that he had to step out to get some air. You look even more stunning now, with your classic but natural-looking makeup and your styled hair. You exude a certain kind of glow that sucks him in, that makes his heart race yet soothes him just the same. 
It’s a little dangerous for him, given that he’ll be spending this entire evening with you as his date, looking the way you do while he has to act disinterested, as if his attraction isn’t slapping him in the face and his internal alarm bells aren’t ringing.
But he has to act professional. He has to stay behind the lines even if his mind is yelling all the words about your beauty that he has to ignore. So he gives himself this short moment where he gets to admire you, and when you make it to the elevator and become confined in a small space, he holds his breath as you smile at him shyly, hoping that he doesn’t give himself away. 
He’ll get himself together, he orders to himself, and he’ll make sure he doesn’t scare you off. 
You make it to the lobby and enter the car. The drive to the venue is quiet at the beginning. It’s technically not a work day so there’s no reason to discuss work. You and Jungkook may have started talking about non-work matters but it doesn’t mean you readily talk about actual personal things. They’re occasional, as it’s not something he seems to do much and you’re often guarded about yours. It took a while for you to open up to Yoongi and even then, there are many things he doesn’t know. You’re comfortable around him, there’s no denying that, but there are still parts of you that you don’t like to share with others, and you suppose that Jungkook is the same.
But still, you ask how his evening was and how his day went, expecting he’d give a basic answer.
“I just stayed home last night and watched soccer over drinks,” he says. “Then I did my workout and went for a swim this morning. I did a bit of work in the afternoon and then got ready.”
“Ah, no party last night and then recovering from it in the morning?” You tease, knowing that’s a usual occurrence for him. Lucas did mention about the Singapore trip and how he’d taken home a passed out Jungkook on the night of his birthday. 
“Well, there was a party,” he responds. “There always is, but I passed up on it. I didn’t want to feel out of sorts tonight. There’ll be a lot of new faces and I don’t wanna mess up.”
“Oh, you won’t. You’ve been doing really well, Mr. Jeon. And that’s me being honest.”
“Why wouldn’t you be?” He arches an eyebrow. “Would you tell me otherwise?” 
“Well, the me of now, would. The me of a few months ago would want to but wouldn’t.” 
Jungkook dwells on your answer. “Hmm. What changed, then?”
“I got used to you.” 
He meets your gaze and somehow it feels too long. You don’t really know what prompted you to say it but you felt a little bold, a little too honest.
“In what sense?” he wonders, turning away now.
“I’d say I got used to the mood swings but then again, they haven’t been intense compared to those first few weeks,” you admit. “But surprisingly, it’s the calmness I’ve become accustomed to. And the seriousness and occasional zoning out, but also, the…”
Care, you want to say. Or the thoughtfulness. 
“Consideration,” you say instead. 
Jungkook’s throat dries up as he finds the words to say. He’s now afraid to look at you because he might give in and say something he’ll regret. He’s been praised before for his work and his designs, but he supposes that no one’s really complimented him for something he does for other people, specifically for you. Maybe that’s why he thinks he doesn’t deserve it; he’s unsure if he’s really considerate by nature or if he just is towards you. It’s why he brushes it off, insisting he just has his moments.
“But those moments could mean a lot to the one it’s shared with or directed to,” you counter. “Even if it was just once. Or even if it was so trivial that you probably forgot already. But the other person doesn’t. Or they would, but something about that moment stays.”
Jungkook thinks about the moments you’d shown him consideration. Or even care or thoughtfulness, but he wouldn’t word it that way to you. There are the big ones - when you showed your support of the Arts Center to his father, when you calmed him down during that first Board meeting, when you gave him the noodles when he was sick, when you stayed with him during his interview with the magazine publications.
When you stood up to him. When you didn’t quit after that first week.
There are also the small moments - the ginger and lemon tea on Monday mornings when he looks like he’d drank too much the night before, the biscuits you serve with his coffee, the affirming looks during team meetings, the comforting smiles from outside his office when he’s stressed. 
There’s a lot of those you show him, and he realizes now that he remembers each one. 
The silence returns soon after, as you both seem to prefer basking in the soft music that Mr. Ri plays. 
It’s 15 minutes later when you arrive at the venue. You get out of the car and meet Jungkook by his door, surprised when he offers his arm that you take. 
“This is how they do it, right?” He looks at you questioningly.
“Yes,” you chuckle. “It’s a little over-the-top but the hosts treat this like it’s some red carpet event and I just follow what the others do. Bitna says it’s the one time we could feel like proper ladies or something, whatever that means.”
“Hmm, makes sense. I guess I’ll be a proper gentleman, then. Whatever that means.” 
You hold onto him lightly as you both make your way inside. You try to disregard the firmness of his arm and the way it feels under your touch, so you gently let go not long after and clutch onto your purse instead, not wanting to give off the idea that you’re anything more than each other’s dates. You greet the guests and establish your position to those who are unaware in an effort to show that this social event is a work function as well. 
Jungkook talks about the Arts Center when he can, and you mentally take note of certain projects, sites, events, artists, and patrons that are mentioned, quickly typing them on your phone for future reference. He talks to you about them in between flutes of champagne and canapes that are some of the most delicious you’ve ever had.
Jungkook laughs as you down another brie and cranberry bruschetta.
“What? I like fancy food,” you pout.
“Yes, your normal people’s taste buds like fancy food,” he teases. 
It’s a statement you make often and you smile that he now uses it against you.
Your moments of casual ignorance of what’s going on around you are ones you find yourself enjoying too much. You internally sigh every time a guest approaches him, and even more so when you find yourself with a few others and someone stands a little too close, or has his hand linger on your elbow, or whispers something in your ear as if you’re at a bar and the music is too loud, which it isn’t, so there’s really no reason for this son of some business tycoon to be asking you to head outside “to talk.”
“Don’t you have a date?” You ask after he insists. 
“Yeah, some girl,” he shrugs. “She’s kinda boring. Lucky I found you.”
You awkwardly smile, knowing it’s not your place to reject him and make a scene. He looks to be the type who always gets his way and if he doesn’t this time, you’re afraid of how he might take it. 
You don’t budge and call for another flute of champagne instead, finishing it in one gulp that has the man releasing a deep breath in front of you.
“So you’ve been working for the Jeon’s for 8 years, you say?” He speaks again.
You nod, looking around to avoid his eyes.
“That’s quite a long time, yeah? I’m sure I can get you a spot at my company,” he brags. “I mean, we sell luxury cars. That’s way more interesting than buildings and shit.”
“I don’t drive,” you say too quickly. “I mean, I don’t know how to.”
“Perfect. I can teach you then,” he smirks. 
It’s the look that heightens your level of discomfort, and just as you’re about to make some excuse and run away, Jungkook calls your name that has you immediately turning towards him.
“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”
He’s not too far away; he comes closer yet still maintains a bit of a distance. 
“Hoseok’s asking for me but I want to speak to Mr. Saito before he leaves. Can you go to my cousin on my behalf?”
“Of course,” you say, excusing yourself and scurrying away from the scene, sighing in relief at the sight of a familiar pair of faces.
A-yeong gives you a hug and you return it, then you turn to Hoseok and ask what he needs Jungkook for.
“Nothing,” he says. “I didn’t call for him.”
“Oh, okay. Well, he said you did.”
“I haven’t spoken to him since we got here,” Hoseok replies. “You know how this gala goes. So many people to meet. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, just… uh. Well, I just met Mr. Kwon’s son. And let’s just say, I don’t want that to happen again.”
“Oh, ___,” A-yeong sighs, knowing exactly what you mean. “Just stay with us. Or don’t leave Jungkook’s side.” Turning towards the man who’d just arrived, she adds, “stay close to her, okay?”
Jungkook looks at you, his eyes asking a question that you know the answer to but neither of you says anything. 
“I will,” he nods. 
Both of you stay where you are for a while before heading back to your seats for the sit-down dinner. You converse with those at your table, thankful that they’re all decent and entertaining. After that, Jungkook doesn’t leave your side. It almost seems like he’s your date rather than the other way around, but you appreciate his presence, especially when he calls your attention once you start looking uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “I just… I just get a little uneasy when people I don’t know get too close.”
“I understand. I’m the same,” he says, prompting you to look at him. “But I just feel uncomfortable, not unsafe. There’s a difference. And it’s not okay if that’s how they make you feel.”
He knew without you saying the words. It takes you back to that night at the restaurant with Hajoon and how Jungkook had looked the most guilty he’d ever been when you said that his staring made you feel uncomfortable. You supposed then that it was mostly because he thought he was causing a rift between you and Hajoon but you realize now that it was more than that. For all that Jungkook is, you’ve come to see that there are things he can’t stand himself doing; deliberately making you feel unsafe is definitely one of them. Perhaps it’s why at this moment, you feel the exact opposite being around him. 
And that’s how the rest of the night goes. He stays close but when he’s caught up in a conversation he can’t get out of, he gives you that look to remind you that it’s okay to step away, that you have the ability to remove yourself from a situation you don’t feel good being in. And you do, and the worry you used to have about being a mere assistant fades away. You never thought that one Jeon Jungkook would give you the permission to do that.
You’re seated on a chair some time later, the hours of walking in your high heels taking its toll on you. You wave to Hoseok and A-yeong, no longer having the energy to walk up to them for a proper goodbye. You sigh to yourself, feeling the tiredness slowly overtake you. It was still a good night, but it took a lot of energy from you, too. 
“Hey,” you hear Jungkook call out. 
You turn to him, still looking handsome as he stands nearby, his hands in his pockets as he mirrors your exhaustion.
“Ready to head home?” He asks.
“Yes,” you say too quickly, earning you a laugh. 
You stand up, limping only a tiny bit, but you think Jungkook notices, as he offers his arm just like he did at the start of the night.
“This is what a proper gentleman does, right?” He asks. 
“I suppose. Although I might say, Mr. Jeon, that’s what you were the entire time. So thank you.”
Jungkook nods in response, unsure how to receive your gratitude. He knows what you mean, as the first sign of your discomfort had him looking at you constantly. He was worried all night but he supposes there’s no reason to feel that way now, as your faint smile just signifies that you’re tired more than anything. 
For the short moment it takes for you to walk closer to him, he basks in your beauty once more. The night will be over soon, and he’s glad he could give you some reprieve this time. He tries not to lose it when you tighten your grip on his arm for support though, but that’s something he can think about later on. 
The walk to the car isn’t that long and you let go of him eventually. You head towards the other door then enter, the space in between reminding him of where you both belong - on either side of a line, one that he shouldn’t think of crossing.
You sink into your seat, fighting the urge to curl your body and take a nap, so you sit up straight and hold yourself together after once again feeling Jungkook’s arm under your touch. Most of the alcohol has left your system but perhaps not enough, as you boldly look at him and smile in appreciation. He returns it, perhaps knowing why you are.
You look out the window, appreciating Seoul’s night sky, until the vision starts getting unclear, as the rain falls steadily on the window. The tapping of the droplets on the glass is a sound you’ve come to appreciate, among other things that you used to be terrified of. 
There’s just this calmness, as if the rain is greeting you, accompanying you in your thoughts. But the sound of the radio getting louder disrupts that a little bit, and in looking at Mr. Ri in question only to find him glancing at the rearview mirror to see the man next to you, do you realize why he’s doing so.
Jungkook’s demeanor has changed, a complete 180 to how he looked not long ago when he seemed satisfied, fulfilled, almost proud of himself for surviving the night. He’s now cross-legged and cross-armed, with his eyes closed and jaws clenched, as if he’s trying to hold himself together. Or trying his best to drown out the sound of the rain, the way Mr. Ri is trying to do for him.
Your face falls at the sight. You’ve seen Jungkook stressed and angry and disappointed; you’ve seen him anxious, too, but this is different. There’s a bit of fear in there, and with the way he flinches and how he’s clutching onto his arms, you know this comes from somewhere and this was caused by something. If it’s anything similar to what you know, then this was because of something painful.
You want to reach out to him but you know you shouldn’t. You helplessly look back on the road then glance at Jungkook every few seconds as the rain continues. It doesn’t seem like it will be a terrible downpour but it’s stronger than usual. 
You try to remember instances in the past where he’d acted this way. A few come to mind, and you think now there’s a reason why he becomes uneasy when it starts to drizzle. That happened the other week while you were on a site visit with him for a small project, but you hadn’t thought much of it, given that he was on his fourth cup of coffee on the way there. 
But right now, you wish there was something more you could do; anything is better than nothing. But you feel constrained - by the distance, by your position, by his boundaries that seem to always be there.
By some miracle, the rain weakens, and it’s stopped by the time you arrive at Jungkook’s apartment building. The car halts and with him still in the same position, you think he probably doesn’t realize he’s home. 
“Mr. Jeon,” you say softly, gently tapping his arm to get his attention. “We’ve reached your place. And the rain has stopped. It’s… it’s okay to open your eyes now.”
It takes a few seconds but he takes a deep breath, opens his eyes, then looks around. It’s just droplets frozen in time on his window and he sighs in relief. Somehow the assurance that he’s okay means something to you this time; you hate to think of what burden he carries that he hides away.
He opens the door, and there’s a bit of disappointment you feel when he closes it and leaves without a goodbye. You suppose he just wants to get to his place immediately and rush to safety. But you don’t want to intrude, not if distance is what he needs, so  you settle with just watching him walk away. 
But then he turns around, and with that bit of boldness left in your body, you open the window and give him another smile. You wish he feels the tenderness in it; you wish somehow it’s enough to let him know that you understand, and that he’s not alone. 
“Good night,” you manage to say, and he hears it despite the distance.
“Good night, ___. And thank you.”
It’s the use of your name. It’s the softness of his smile and the words of gratitude. It’s the way he lingers as the car starts to drive away and you’re left watching him even from afar. 
It lets you know that he knows. And it’s the reason why you sleep soundly that night and why for the first time since you’ve met him, you can’t wait to see him again. 
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1K notes · View notes
wheelchair “privileges” at airport include
skip luggage line go straight to wheelchair assist desk
skip security line
reopened closed carry on scanning security device line thing for me this time n closed it again after finish :D
got keep headphones on because gesture head explode n they let me keep on
intimate body pat down in front of everyone! & don’t get AAC during it because can’t touch already scanned items (<nonverbal [all the time])
so many questions & paperwork
arriving 3+ hours early & with all these line skipping still barely made it 👍
8 extra luggage’s bc disassembled powerchair & spare wheelchair parts
board plane first!
wait until everyone leave and then extra 20 minutes for aisle chair again
pray to every gods there is hoping they don’t break your very expensive highly specialized medical equipments you need to literal move & cannot go places without 👍👍👍
ok maybe is actual wheelchair + visibly developmental disabled
+ big international airport at liberal state so as good as it get (& delta)
(the skip line thing isn’t even special treatment. it like. it because cannot do twisty turn thingie. & other things)
318 notes · View notes
hd-junglebook · 1 month
Text
The Lucky Bachelor
Part 1 - Luke Hughes X Reader
Masterlist Link
a:n When you guys' finish let me know if you want a part 2. I'm a little conflicted because I feel like I can't write as good for Luke as I do Jack. Idk why when I'm literally gonna marry this man but whatever. Enjoy!!
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Summary: This is their second chance at love, it had been three years since that night in Michigan, three years since they officially split for the better. With some unwanted help Luke knows he will find a way to make her love him again.
Word Count 6401
Y/n’s POV
Y/N inhaled deeply, the distinct aroma of stale coffee and the acrid scent of cleaning products assaulting her senses as she stepped into the bustling airport terminal.
The rhythmic whirring of the wheels on her carry-on luggage provided a muffled counterpoint to the cacophony of voices echoing off the high ceilings and the distant hum of aircraft engines.
As she pushed through the throng of hurried travelers, her eyes darted from sign to screen, searching for the gate information for her flight. Suddenly, the overhead intercom crackled to life, a tinny, robotic voice cutting through the din.
"Good afternoon, passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 89B to Rome. We are now inviting those passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time." The announcement was punctuated by a sharp, piercing ding that drew the attention of those waiting nearby.
Amidst the sea of harried bodies, a familiar figure suddenly caught Y/N's eye. Clarke, the bride-to-be and her best friend since childhood, stood near the crowded check-in counter.
Her blonde hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, the airport's harsh lighting lending an almost ethereal glow to the strands. Clarke was practically bouncing on her toes, her smile radiant with pure joy as she waved enthusiastically, beckoning Y/N over.
"Over here!" Clarke squealed, her voice carrying above the din of the busy airport. She cupped her hands around her mouth, ensuring that her words reached Y/N's ears.
For a moment, the nervousness that had been coiling in Y/N's stomach dissipated, replaced by a warm sense of affection. The nerves that had been twisting in her stomach moments ago melted away, replaced by a comforting warmth that spread through her chest.
She quickened her pace, dodging luggage and weaving through the crowd with newfound energy until she reached the circle of familiar faces.
"Sorry, excuse me," Y/N muttered apologetically as she squeezed past a family of tourists, their curious glances following her as she made her way towards her friends.
The moment Y/N stepped into the group, Clarke's eyes lit up, her face splitting into an ecstatic grin. "Y/N! You made it!" she squealed, her voice rising an octave in excitement. Without hesitation, Clarke flung her arms around Y/N, enveloping her in a tight hug that smelled earthy and green.
Y/N laughed, the sound bubbling up from her chest as she returned the embrace, squeezing Clarke tightly. The two friends held each other for a moment, the chaos of the airport fading into the background as they savored the reunion.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Y/N declared, her voice filled with sincerity as she pulled back to look her best friend in the eye. "You and Damien deserve the best celebration."
At the mention of her fiancé's name, Clarke's cheeks flushed with a delicate hue, a blend of happiness and bashfulness coloring her features. "Thank you, Y/N," she said softly, her eyes glistening with gratitude. "It means the world to me that you're here."
Clarke took a deep breath, composing herself before turning to the rest of the group with a radiant smile. "Come say hi to everyone else," she urged, tugging Y/N's hand and leading her towards the other bridesmaids.
As Y/N greeted each of the girls with warm, enthusiastic hugs, the chatter among the group grew louder. But as her gaze swept across the familiar faces, it landed on a newcomer, a girl she had never seen before.
The stranger stood slightly apart from the rest, her fiery red hair cascading down her back in vivid, rebellious curls.
Her piercing green eyes seemed to hold a glint of something mysterious, an undercurrent of intensity that made Y/N pause for a moment, her heart skipping a beat.
Brushing off the strange, unsettling feeling that crept up her spine, Y/N approached the girl with a friendly smile etched onto her features. "Hi there," she said, extending her hand in greeting. "I don't think we've met before. I'm Y/N, Clarke's childhood friend."
The redhead's lips curved into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, a guarded expression that immediately put Y/N on edge. "Anastasia," she replied, her voice smooth and measured as she grasped Y/N's outstretched hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Despite the polite exchange, Y/N couldn't shake the odd, prickling sensation that settled in the pit of her stomach. There was something about Anastasia, something indescribable, that felt off - a subtle tension that hung in the air between them, thick and suffocating.
But before Y/N could dwell on it further, Clarke appeared by their side, her face lit up with excitement, effectively shattering the moment.
"Y/N, I see you've met Anastasia," Clarke beamed, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, forming a bridge between the two women. "She's a close work friend from my new job. I've been dying for you two to meet!"
Y/N forced a smile, the muscles in her face straining with the effort as she tried to push down the unease that threatened to surface. "That's great," she replied, her voice sounding a bit too chipper even to her own ears. "I'm always happy to meet Clarke's friends. As you can tell we're all thick as thieves now."
Anastasia's piercing gaze flickered between Y/N and Clarke, a flash of something indecipherable crossing her features before it was quickly replaced by a warm, almost saccharine smile.
"Clarke has told me so much about you, Y/N," she said, her tone honey-sweet and dripping with false sincerity. "I feel like I already know you."
Y/N let out a strained laugh, the sound grating against her own ears. "All good things, I hope," she joked, trying in vain to lighten the suddenly palpable tension.
Clarke giggled, her hand giving Y/N's shoulder a brief, reassuring squeeze, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrent of unease swirling between the two women.
All too quickly, the girls began navigating through the bustling airport, checking in their luggage and making their way through the winding security checkpoints, Y/N found herself easily falling back into step with their giddy chatter.
Taylor, one of Clarke's college friends, let out a giggle as she recounted her latest romantic escapade.
"Me and Travis aren't together anymore. He was too clingy," she said with a dramatic sigh, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Maybe I'll steal up one of the best men, huh, Clarke?"
Clarke rolled her eyes playfully, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. Taylor was always like this, falling in love too quickly and falling out of it just as fast. Her romantic aspirations were as fleeting as the summer breeze, but her infectious laughter and carefree spirit made her an essential part of their tight-knit group.
The conversation shifted to the upcoming bachelorette party as they made their way to the boarding gate. Clarke's eyes sparkled as she described the home they'd be staying at, her hands gesturing animatedly as she painted a vivid picture of pristine white sand and crystal-clear waters.
"I found it a couple of months ago," she explained, her voice brimming with excitement. "It's a little expensive, but I feel like this week will be worth it."
Y/N listened intently, absorbing every word as Clarke waxed poetic about the luxurious amenities and breathtaking views. She could almost feel the warm sand beneath her feet, the salty breeze caressing her skin, and the laughter of her friends echoing through the night.
The intercom crackled to life, a pleasant voice filling the air. "Attention passengers, this is the final boarding call for Flight 227 to Bali. Please make your way to Gate 12. Thank you."
The announcement sent a ripple of excitement through the group, signaling for them to gather their belongings.
The girls fell into a single file line, stepping onto the plane and entering the luxurious first-class cabin that welcomed them with plush seats and gleaming surfaces.
Just as Y/N was settling into her seat, a familiar name caught her attention, causing her heart to skip a beat. "I can't wait to see Luke," one of the girls gushed, her voice taking on a dreamy quality.
It was Anastasia.
"He's such a dreamboat, Emilia, don't you think? Have you seen his arms?" she giggled.
Y/N felt a chill run down her spine, her grip tightening on the handle of her carry-on. She glanced up, only to find Clarke’s eyes already fixed on her, a mixture of guilt and concern etched across her face before she forced a toothy smile. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.
Y/N swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. She'd known this moment would come, the day she’d see Luke again. But hearing his name spoken so casually, as if he were just another guest and not the boy who had once held her heart in his hands, made it all too real.
It was Clarke who broke the eye contact first, her smile faltering. She cleared her throat, breaking the tension. "We should probably find our seats," she suggested, her voice strained.
Y/N nodded, grateful for the escape. She followed the group onto the plane, her mind reeling with thoughts of Luke and the memories they'd shared.
Once they settled into their seats, Clarke turned to Y/N, her face contorted with guilt. "I was gonna tell you," she screeched, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. "Please don't be mad, Damien and Luke have gotten so close it would be rude not to invite him."
Y/N sighed, leaning back against the headrest. She couldn't blame Clarke for inviting Luke. After all, he was part of their shared history, a friend to both the bride and groom.
But the knowledge that he would be there, that she'd have to face him after all this time, sent a wave of anxiety crashing over her.
"I'm not mad, I promise," she said, the tightness in her jaw betraying her calm tone as she forced a smile. "It's just... complicated. I haven't seen him in a long time, so maybe this can be a good thing."
Clarke reached over, tentatively squeezing Y/N's hand. "I know," she murmured, her brow furrowed with concern.
"You guys are older now and have most of life figured out. Maybe you guys can be friends again? Get some closure."
Y/N nodded stiffly, her gaze trained straight ahead. The past had a way of clinging to her, of resurfacing when she least expected it. And with Luke, there was so much left unsaid, so many questions left unanswered that made her chest tighten.
Anastasia plopped down into the open seat next to her, a twist of fate that made Y/N's heart skip a beat. The redhead offered her a sidelong glance, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.
"Looks like we'll be getting to know each other quite well on this trip," Anastasia remarked, her voice low and conspiratorial.
Y/N swallowed hard, the muscles in her neck tensing as she nodded in agreement. Little did she know, Anastasia's words held a weight that would soon become all too clear.
Luke’s POV
Luke stepped off the plane, the warm island breeze caressing his face and tousling his chestnut hair. The salty scent of the ocean filled his nostrils, mingling with the faint aroma of sunscreen and tropical flowers.
He paused for a moment, taking it all in, the exotic smells washing over him and easing the tension in his shoulders.
Adjusting the strap of his backpack, Luke scanned the crowded airport, his eyes searching for familiar faces amidst the sea of tourists and locals.
A flash of recognition caught his attention, and he spotted his friends gathered near the baggage claim, their laughter and animated conversations rising above the din of the busy terminal.
A grin spread across his face as he made his way towards them, a mixture of excitement and a touch of nerves fluttering in his chest. "Hey, guys!" he called out, his voice carrying a hint of his trademark dorky charm.
Luke was excited to see his old friends again. His friends turned to greet him, their faces lit up with genuine smiles and enthusiastic handshakes.
They fell into an easy banter, discussing the itinerary for the joint bachelor party and good-naturedly teasing the groom-to-be about his upcoming nuptials.
Luke joined in the lively conversation, laughing and joking along with the others. But even as he participated, he couldn't quite shake the twinge of apprehension that gnawed at the back of his mind.
Y/N would be here, on this very island, and the thought of seeing her again after all this time sent a shiver down his spine.
"Hey, Luke, you planning on sweeping any of the local ladies off their feet this weekend?" one of his friends, Jared, elbowed him playfully.
Luke chuckled, trying to mask the underlying tension. "Nah, man, I'm here to support the groom, not to cause any trouble."
Another friend, Ethan, piped up. "Yeah, right. Like we don't all remember how you used to be the ultimate ladies' man back in the day."
"That was a lifetime ago," Luke shrugged, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. In truth, his mind was elsewhere, still consumed by the thought of reuniting with Y/N.
He could still vividly remember the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, the softness of her skin under his fingertips, and the soothing way her voice could calm his worries.
Their fairy tale romance had been cut short by the demands of his burgeoning NHL career, the distance and the pressure ultimately proving too much for their relationship to withstand.
The breakup had been painful, a raw wound that had never fully healed. In the aftermath, they had lost touch, each of them focusing on their own lives and careers, trying to move forward without the other.
Now, as Luke prepared to see Y/N again, he found himself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.
Would she still be the same girl he had fallen for all those years ago? Would the connection between them still be there, simmering beneath the surface? The uncertainty only served to heighten the nervous anxiety bubbling in his chest.
After three hours of painful silence on the plane, they finally made It back to the ground. y/n felt like she could finally breathe again as the fresh air hit her face. She was almost too grateful to be more than a few feet away from Anastasia.
Clarke led the way to the car rental counter, all seemed well until Anastasia suddenly let out an exasperated sigh. "Ugh, it looks like there's been some kind of mix-up with our reservation," she groaned, her brow furrowed in frustration.
Clarke's eyes went wide. "What do you mean? I double-checked everything before we left!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with worry.
Anastasia shot Y/N a pointed look. "Well, maybe if someone hadn't been so distracted, we wouldn't be in this mess," she huffed, her tone dripping with condescension.
Y/N felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment and confusion. "What are you talking about? I haven't done anything," she protested, her hands raised in a placating gesture.
The redhead rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. Don't play innocent with me. I saw the way you were eyeing the baggage carousel, completely oblivious to everything else around you."
"Woah relax!" Y/N exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch. "I was just looking around, making sure I didn't miss our luggage. There's no need to make this into a big deal, I mean what exactly is this mess-up you’re talking about."
Anastasia scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, it is a big deal when your carelessness jeopardizes our entire trip. Now we're going to have to waste time sorting this out instead of enjoying ourselves."
Clarke stepped in, placing a hand on Anastasia's shoulder in an attempt to defuse the situation. "Let's all just take a deep breath, okay? I'm sure we can figure this out," she said in a soothing tone, casting an apologetic glance in Y/N's direction.
Y/N felt her heart racing, she wanted nothing more than to escape the confrontation, to retreat to a quiet corner and gather her thoughts. But Anastasia's accusatory gaze kept her rooted to the spot, her pride and sense of fairness refusing to back down.
"I'm not the one who caused this problem, Anastasia," Y/N insisted, her voice laced with a hint of steel. "If you'd just calm down and let the rental agent handle it, I'm sure we can get this sorted out."
The redhead's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Y/N could have sworn she saw a spark of genuine malice in their depths. "Oh, I'm perfectly calm," Anastasia purred, her lips curling into a sardonic smile. "I'm just not going to let anyone ruin this trip for me. Especially not you."
After several tense minutes of negotiating with the rental agent, Clarke finally emerged with a set of keys, a strained smile on her face.
"Okay, everyone," she called out, waving the group over. "We got it all sorted out. Let's head to the car and get this show on the road!"
The girls filed towards the waiting vehicle, each one casting wary glances at Anastasia, who seemed to be in an especially foul mood. As Y/N reached for the handle of the front passenger door, the redhead suddenly pulled it open and slid into the seat, an triumphant smirk on her face.
Y/N froze, unsure if Anastasia was being serious. For a moment, she considered putting up a fight, asserting her rightful place in the front. But the odds already felt stacked against her, and she didn't want to risk escalating the situation further.
Letting out a resigned sigh, Y/N settled into the backseat, squeezing in next to Taylor. The brunette shot her an apologetic look, mouthing a silent "I don’t know what her deal is" as she placed a comforting hand on Y/N's arm.
The car pulled up to the beachfront property, and Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. The house was stunning, a perfect blend of modern architecture and tropical charm, nestled on a secluded stretch of pristine white sand.
The sound of waves crashing against the shore filled her ears, a soothing melody that did little to calm the butterflies fluttering restlessly in her stomach.
Y/N hung back, taking a moment to gather her composure while the girls tumbled out of the car. She watched as her friends eagerly grabbed their bags from the trunk, their faces aglow with the glow of the setting sun.
The last time she had been in this paradise-like setting, she had been with Luke, their young love blossoming amidst the sun-drenched days and moonlit nights. Now, the prospect of seeing him again after all these years sent a shiver of both trepidation and longing through her.
Emilia turned and noticed Y/N lingering behind. "Y/N! Are you coming inside?" she called out, her voice brimming with excitement.
Y/N mustered a small smile and nodded. "Yeah, I'll be there in a minute," she replied, her voice betraying a hint of the turmoil she felt. "I just... need a moment."
Emilia returned the smile and nodded in understanding before disappearing through the doorway, leaving Y/N to collect her thoughts. Steeling herself, Y/N reached for her suitcase and followed the group inside.
Exhaling a shaky breath, Y/N pushed open the car door and stepped out, embracing the warm, salty breeze that swept across the secluded beachfront property.
She was the last one to leave the vehicle, her luggage trailing behind her as she crossed the threshold, the car door clicking shut softly behind her - a subtle finality that seemed to seal her fate.
The walk to the kitchen felt like an eternity, each step a battle against the nerves that she couldn’t seem to shake off. Her heart pounded in her ears, a deafening rhythm that drowned out the chatter and laughter of her friends. She forced a smile onto her face, waving to Damien and his groomsmen as she entered the room, her eyes scanning the space almost involuntarily.
And then, as if by some magnetic force, her gaze landed on Luke.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as their eyes met, their gazes locking in a moment that was both thrilling and terrifying. This was it, the moment she had both anticipated and dreaded, the chance to confront the past she had spent years trying to outrun.
He was leaning against the kitchen island, his tall frame exuding an air of effortless confidence. The years had been kind to him, sculpting his features into a breathtaking work of art. His chestnut hair was tousled, as if he had just run his fingers through it, and his eyes, those deep pools of brown that had once held her captive, sparkled with mirth as he laughed at something one of the guys had said.
He looked like he had just stepped out of a magazine shoot, a perfect specimen of masculine beauty. Y/N felt her breath hitch, her heart skipping a beat as she drank in the sight of him. It was as if no time had passed at all, as if they were still those love-struck teenagers, stealing glances at each other across a crowded classroom.
Luke's expression shifted from surprise to a tentative smile, and Y/N felt her heart flutter, the familiar pull of their connection tugging at her very soul. She took a step forward, compelled by an invisible thread that bound them together, but the sound of Anastasia's voice piercing the charged silence shattered the moment, yanking Y/N back to reality.
"Y/N! There you are," the redhead chirped, her tone sugary sweet as she sidled up to Y/N, a possessive hand resting on her arm. "We were just about to start mixing cocktails. Care to join us?" Y/N tore her gaze away.
"Uh, yeah, sure. I'd love to help," Y/N managed, her voice betraying a hint of her nerves. She moved to the counter, her fingers fumbling as she tried to focus on the task at hand.
She could feel Luke's presence, even without looking at him, a palpable energy that crackled and sizzled in the space between them. It was going to be a long week, a test of her resolve and her ability to keep her heart in check.
With one last glance in Luke's direction, Y/N turned away.
Y/N plastered on a smile, pushing down the turmoil raging within as she joined the girls in the kitchen, their lively chatter and laughter a sharp contrast to the palpable tension coursing through her veins.
"Ah, there's our girl!" Anastasia crooned, draping a possessive arm around Y/N's shoulders and guiding her to the makeshift bar. "We were just about to start mixing some cocktails."
Y/N hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering towards the living room, where the groomsmen - including Luke - had gathered. She could feel his eyes on her, a pull so powerful it was as if he were a planet and she, a helpless moon in his gravitational field.
"Hey, Luke, looks like your old flame is getting her flirt on," Jared teased, elbowing the other man playfully.
Luke felt a flash of something akin to jealousy surge through him, but he quickly tamped it down, offering a casual shrug. "It's been a long time. I'm sure she's just being friendly."
Ethan chuckled, a devious grin spreading across his face. "Friendly, huh? Well, in that case, maybe one of us should go over there and help her out. You know, show her a real good time."
The group erupted in a chorus of laughter, their eyes trained on the girls as they moved around the kitchen, their movements graceful and flirtatious. She could feel the weight of their gazes, and she fought the urge to squirm under the scrutiny.
Anastasia, on the other hand, seemed to thrive on the attention, her hips swaying in a way that Y/N couldn't help but find a bit over-the-top.
Y/N felt a subtle unease creep up her spine as Anastasia's flirtatious behavior escalated, the redhead's touches and innuendos growing increasingly blatant. Trying to divert Anastasia's attention, Y/N turned to the other girls, forcing a smile onto her face.
"So ladies, how are you two planning to spend tonight?" she asked, silently pleading for backup.
Taylor grinned and leaned in conspiratorially. “I plan to spend it drunk, maybe some skinny dipping on the beach.” she winked.
Clarke, ever the diplomatic peacekeeper, stepped in, placing a hand on Anastasia's arm. "Alright, ladies, let's not hog all the fun. I'm sure the boys are getting thirsty over there." She flashed them a playful wink, her gaze shifting to Y/N, a silent message of reassurance passing between them.
"Oh, don't worry, Clarke. I'm sure the boys can entertain themselves for a while." She cast a pointed glance towards the living room, her lips curving into a coy smile. "After all, we girls need to have a little fun of our own, don't we, Y/N?" Anastasia's smooth, saccharine voice cut through the chatter.
Y/N felt her stomach twist with discomfort, the charged undercurrent in Anastasia's words raising all sorts of warning bells in her mind. Mustering a tight-lipped smile, she nodded, her eyes silently pleading with the other girls to steer the conversation in a different direction.
The initial excitement of the group's arrival had settled down, and the friends naturally split off into smaller clusters, catching up and exploring the luxurious beach house.
Luke stayed in the kitchen fighting with himself on what he should do. ‘Do I go to her?’ He thought to himself. ‘Can I mend three years of silence in a week?’
Caught up in the moment, Luke found himself gravitating towards the living room without another thought, muttering a 'fuck it' as his feet moved of their own accord.
It was as if he were being drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. He paused just a few feet away, clearing his throat tentatively. She was so lost in thought, her gaze fixed on the hypnotic rhythm of the ocean, that she didn't hear his approaching footsteps until his voice broke through her reverie.
"It's good to see you again," he said, his voice low and warm.
Y/N turned, her heart leaping into her throat as she came face to face with Luke. Up close, he was even more striking, his features sharper and more defined than she remembered.
"Luke," she breathed, his name feeling both foreign and familiar on her tongue. "Yeah, it is good to see you. It's been a while."
He smiled, a lopsided grin that sent a flutter of excitement through her chest. "Two years, give or take," he said softly, his gaze never leaving hers. "You look... amazing by the way."
Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck, a warmth that had nothing to do with the tropical climate. "Thanks," she managed to choke out. "You look better, happier..."
There was a beat of silence as they drank in each other's presence, the weight of the years that had passed palpable between them.
Y/N's mind raced, desperately searching for the right words, the perfect way to bridge the gap that had grown. There was so much she wanted to say, so many questions she longed to ask, but the words seemed to catch in her throat, trapped behind the turbulent surge of emotions.
Luke, too, seemed to be grappling with his own thoughts, his brow furrowed slightly as he studied her face, as if trying to commit every detail to memory.
"I saw you play the other week, I'm happy things are working out for you," Y/N began, looking between his face and their friends running on the beach.
"You saw the game?" Luke questioned, his expression shifting to one of shock.
"I was there in person," she admitted, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"Wait, what...How come you didn't say hi?" he pressed, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.
Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. "I saw you with some girls, didn't want to interrupt," she confessed, her gaze dropping for a moment before meeting his eyes again.
Luke let out a soft chuckle, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "So you were stalking me, huh?" he teased.
The familiar banter brought a smile to Y/N's face, the tension easing ever so slightly. "I was just watching, sugar," she murmured, the endearment slipping out before she could stop herself.
The moment the words left her lips, Y/N felt a wave of mortification wash over her. She hadn't used that name in three years, and one casual encounter with Luke had her mind instantly reverting to the intimacy of their past. Biting her lip, she averted her gaze, silently willing the ground to open up and swallow her.
Luke, however, seemed to revel in the familiar moniker, his expression softening as a hint of nostalgia flickered across his features.
"It's good to hear you say that again," he admitted quietly, his hand reaching out to gently brush against hers, a spark of electricity crackling between them at the fleeting touch.
The spell was broken by the arrival of Damien, the groom-to-be, who drunkenly stumbled onto Luke, clapping him on the back and pulled him into a boisterous conversation with the group outside.
Fat raindrops pelted against the windows as a rumbling clap of thunder rolled overhead. Y/N stood under the covered porch, watching in amusement as the rest of the group made a mad dash from the beach toward the houses front door.
Taylor was bringing up the rear, squealing as the downpour quickly soaked through her thin t-shirt. She reached the porch last, bangs plastered to her forehead and mascara smudged under her eyes. Shivering, she flung open the door and stumbled inside, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her.
Y/N chuckled and followed Taylor into the cozy entryway. The others were already shaking out their damp hair and peeling off soaked outer layers.
Taylor pouted as a few stray droplets rolled down her neck, then broke into a impish grin. She extended her arms out to her sides, approaching Y/N.
"Don't you dare!" Y/N warned with a laugh, backing away. Her heel caught on a throw rug and she pitched backward, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation of the hard floor.
Instead, a pair of strong arms encircled her waist, catching her against a firm chest. Y/N's eyes fluttered open to find Luke's concerned gaze inches from her own.
His rain-drenched curls were flattened against his forehead and rivulets of water trailed down his chiseled jawline. His chest heaved as he caught his breath from running inside to escape the downpour.
"Whoa there, you okay?" His warm breath fanned across her cheeks. Up close, Y/N caught the scent of his cologne mingling with the fresh, earthy smells of the rainstorm.
Taylor failed to smother a giggle, shaking out her wet hair like a dog. "I think someone could use a towel."
Luke kept his arm looped protectively around Y/N's waist as he shot Taylor a playful glare. "Yeah, if someone hadn't tried drenching her with a bear hug."
Y/N felt her cheeks growing warm as Luke kept his arm looped around her waist, holding her body flush against his. His taut abdomen pressed into her back, and she was hyper-aware of his warm breath fanning across her neck. Y/N forced a laugh. "Exactly, it's all your fault."
"What's with all the racket?" Damien emerged from one of the doorways, tousling his wild, disheveled hair. He smirked at the intimate way Luke was embracing Y/N. "Oh brother, would you two just screw already and get it over with!"
Y/N's eyes went wide at Damien's crude joke, but Luke just chuckled lowly. His thumb stroked an absent-minded circle into her hipbone, sending a shiver down her spine.
"You staying up for a bit?" Luke asked in a low rumble, realizing he still had Y/N enveloped in his arms. "Not tired, Lukey?" She teased back, relaxing against his solid frame.
Luke's chocolate eyes danced with amusement. "I was tired until I saw you again. I think we have some catching up to do." He flashed her a bright, lopsided smile that made her knees go weak.
Taking her hand, Luke led Y/N away from the others down a hallway, throwing a roguish wink over his shoulder at Damien before disappearing around the corner. She held her breath while Luke led her into the sunroom.
It was the epitome of cozy comfort - golden lamps bathed the space in a warm glow, and the large spare bed was piled high with plush blankets and pillows.
Luke started moving towards the inviting bed, but Y/N quickly arched one leg out to block his path. "Ah ah, your shirt is still drenched. You can't get on the bed like that."
He flashed her a roguish grin before grasping the hem of his t-shirt and tugging it smoothly up and over his head in one fluid motion.
Y/N's eyes widened as his toned torso and chiseled abs were revealed. He tossed the soaked shirt aside carelessly and settled onto the bed, leaving a respectable distance between them.
Y/N instantly regretted speaking up. She couldn't believe the casual, unhesitating way he had stripped off his shirt right in front of her, as if they were still intimately involved.
A flush crept up her neck as memories flooded back of when they were dating - she had been an awestruck teenager, hungrily drinking in every newly exposed inch of his body as they learned each other.
Now she was the flustered one, feeling like that bashful girl again as she took in the sight of his muscular build, the breadth of his shoulders tapering down to those abs she used to love tracing with her fingertips...
Y/N swallowed hard as Luke reclined back on the plush bed, muscles rippling underneath tanned skin. He propped himself up on one elbow, giving her an unobstructed view of his chiseled torso and abs.
"See something you like?" Luke's voice was a deep rumble, vibrating straight through Y/N. He arched one brow cockily, the corner of his lips curling into that trademark.
Heat bloomed across Y/N's cheeks as memories of their past intimacies flooded her mind. She averted her gaze, trying to regain her composure. "Don't flatter yourself."
Luke tsked, shaking his head slowly. "Now, now. No need to be shy, gorgeous." He patted the space next to him invitingly. "Why don't you come join me? We have years of catching up to do."
Y/N's pulse fluttered wildly as she wavered, torn between the warmth pooling in her belly and her lingering hurt over how things had ended with Luke. Throwing caution to the wind, she settled gingerly on the edge of the bed, back ramrod straight.
"Relax." Luke's fingertips ghosted along her arm, raising goosebumps. "You're so tense. Come here. Let me help you with that..."
His hands found her shoulders, kneading the tight muscles there with strong strokes. Y/N stifled a moan, hating how easily he could still unravel her with his touch alone. She felt him shift closer until his bare chest was a hair's breadth away, the heat radiating off him in waves.
"There, that's better," Luke purred in her ear, his mouth so close she could feel the whisper of his lips against her skin. "Now, why don't you tell me everything I've missed?"
Y/N shivered at the feel of Luke's breath fanning warmly against her neck. She forced herself to remain still, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how flustered he made her.
"So," she began, proud that her voice came out stronger than she felt. "Where should we start?”
Y/N stifled a moan as Luke's strong hands kneaded the tense muscles of her shoulders and upper back. She cursed the traitorous shiver that rippled through her at the feeling of his bare chest brushing against her arm.
She had to gather her wits, made difficult by the intoxicating combination of his heated touch and masculine musk surrounding her. "Well, I finally moved out of that cramped apartment into an actual house back in Michigan."
"A home all to yourself?" Luke's hands stilled momentarily, drawing her gaze to the admiring look smoldering in his eyes. "I'm impressed”
His fingertips trailed scorching paths down her arms as he resettled behind her, the solid wall of his chest pressing against her back once more. Y/N bit her lip against the fresh wave of arousal cresting through her.
She pressed on, “anyway the job has been great. Challenging but great. Though I did have a boyfriend for a while in the midst of everything..."
The words had an immediate effect on Luke. His jaw tightened perceptibly and his eyes flashed dangerously, like a wolf catching the scent of a threat. "A boyfriend, huh?" His voice was low and controlled, but Y/N could hear the undercurrent of primal possessiveness.
She nodded, holding his intense gaze. "Yeah, we dated for several months after you...left."
Luke seemed to wrestle with reining in his reaction. When he spoke again, his tone was carefully measured. "I see. And what became of this...boyfriend?"
Y/N shrugged one shoulder casually, though her pulse was thundering in her ears. "It didn't work out. The passion wasn't really there, at least not on my end."
Luke tsked again, making that infuriatingly sexy sound. At that, some of the tension drained from Luke's frame and a faint smirk played across his lips. "No passion, huh? Can't relate."
His fingers trailed up the side of her neck, sending sparks ricocheting across her sensitized skin. In one smooth motion, he reached out and cupped her jawline, thumb brushing her parted lips. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he murmured, "I missed you every single day, you know."
"I want you back. However, I can have you." His calloused thumb stroked her lower lip as he inched closer, arousal darkening his eyes to a deep black. "Let me make up for lost time..."
Lmk what you think please! Part 2?
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museum-mind · 29 days
Text
I LIKE THE WAY YOU KISS ME
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ᯓ★ after receiving (and ignoring) your text which was calling him out, sae found himself growing nervous as he arrived in japan for the u20 match. what would happen to his fluttering heart as he watches you cheer for blue lock in the bleachers?
a/n : guess who’s back!!!! also, i’m sorry i forgot to link this to the request so a special shout-out to the anon who asked for a part 2. love ya!! ALSO! i apologise if this doesn’t match the blue lock manga / timeline.. i literally forgot like everything ( ;∀;)
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“please wait until the aircraft has parked to take off your seatbelt.” the flight attendant spoke into the speaker with a commercial smile.
the rest of the words from her blurred, as a pool of emotions swirled deeply in sae’s gut. he can’t believe it, he thinks, as he stands up from the cramped airport seat, unbuckling his seatbelt. is he really here? the country he swore to never step foot in again — the home of the same person who he thought he’d never get the chance to see again.
it’s not like he want to see you, right? he’d mutter to himself, his feet carrying him through the airport quickly as he dragged his suitcase behind him.
as sae called over for a taxi, he couldn’t help but feel a wave of dread wash over him. he sighed, letting the driver to whatever car drove to him pick up his luggage and place it in the trunk.
he’d open the car door, taking a seat in the back as he placed his sports bag beside him before buckling himself in.
the drive was silent, apart from awkward attempts at small talk from the driver — sae couldn’t stand it.
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he wouldn’t say it was horrible to be here — but it certainly wasn’t enjoyable to be here. the japan u20 team was full of a group of weirdos. and the only reliable player he could pluck from blue lock was even worse.
“saaaeeee~” the said man squealed, twisting his body as a delighted grin finds it’s way onto his face. “i’m so excited to play with youuuu!”
sae rolled his eyes, reaching one of his hands to massage his shoulder. he groaned at the feeling; he still felt sore.
no matter how much practice he had, he could never relieve himself of the pain as good as you could. your hands were made for him.
“you need help with that?”
“no.”
“awww, come onnnn!”
“i said no.”
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“itoshi sae!” the announcer called out his name, cameras flashing all across the stadium as he stepped foot onto the field.
“aaaand… ryusei shidou!”
sae rolled his eyes as the man jumped onto his back, shouting a range of odd phrases.
his sharp teal eyes scanned the crowd, and for a moment — the world stopped. he caught the gaze of a familiar person he used to know.
you.
you were just as perfect as he last remembered; maybe even more. you both held eye contact for a moment, sae being the one to break it and look away from you.
why were his cheeks so warm?
“come on you two, hurry up! the game’s starting soon.” the dual haired man would shout towards sae and shidou, ignoring the flustered expression on a certain player’s face.
the game went by pretty smoothly — sae was able to push you to the back of his mind, eyes focused on the field only. that was, until he heard the sweet sound of your voice.
it’s so familiar, so welcoming, he thinks.
“come on blue lock!!” you’d shout, arms raised high as your cheer for your friends. after you and sae ended, you ventured out into the world, eventually befriending a pretty woman named anri.
she introduced you to the group of rowdy foot ball players who stay cooped up in the soccer facility, and you became fast friends. she even let you work there as her assistant! totally not an excuse for you both to gossip together about which celebrities you think are the cutest.
you had grown fond of the bunch, even meeting sae’s younger brother. at first, he was wary. but as soon as he realised you were not like his brother, he saw you as an older sister of sorts.
the sibling he wished he could have forever.
“go rin, you got this!” you scream out for him, hands waving towards him with a large smile on your face as he glances your way, sending a brief, bashful smile back.
sae could barley believe his ears, quickly whipping his head around as he watched his brother grow more determined.
sae felt so frustrated. you should be cheering for him like that! but he messed up.
he messed up big time.
after a treacherous amount of time, sae could finally take a break at halftime.
“where did you keep looking off to?” one of the u20 players would ask sae, taking a sip out of his water bottle.
“no one.” sae would snap back — a little too quickly.
“what?”
“i wasn’t looking at anyone.”
“i never said you were looking at anyone?”
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in the end, u20 lost. it almost brought sae back to his first game in spain.
he lost, thinking about you.
as he ventured out of the stadium, he was immediately caught by paparazzi and news reporters.
he paid no mind, staying on his track toward the car which was picking him up.
“itoshi sae, how do you feel about the outcome of today’s match?” a woman would ask, practically shoving a microphone into his face.
he scowled, a hand reaching to swat it away slightly. he looked off to the side, lifting the same hand to cover his eyes and shield them from the blinding lights.
but as he locked his gaze on you once again, he paused. a feeling that he couldn’t quite name came over him as he stood still for a moment. it was only a matter of time before the paparazzi would follow his line of sight, he thought as his feet began to bring him towards you.
he had to hold onto the strap of his bag tightly, afraid that he’d be caught trembling as he reaches. a shaky hand to grab onto you, pulling you into the shadows of a dark alleyway.
what was he doing?!
“shh.” he’d hush, placing his large palm over your lips as he leaned a little closer to you, a hand pulling you against his chest as he peeked over the corner. he watched the paparazzi run around like a bunch of rats, scurrying to find something, anything to write about.
he scoffed, rolling his eyes before looking down at you. your eyes were wide, and he could feel the way you’re holding your breath. “calm down.”
you bit at his palm, your eyebrows furrowing together in anger as you pulled away. “calm down?!” you whisper shout to the man. “how am i supposed to do that? what is wrong with you?”
“just take a few breaths — like i told you.”
“that was years ago!”
sae stopped. this was futile. he was never able to properly explain his feelings to you. he doesn’t know why, but whenever he’s around you he feels his throat tighten and his stomach flutter. his head is light and his cheeks are warm.
only you could have such an effect on him, he thinks.
before you could say another word, he leaned down, lips pressing against yours as his eyes shut. he hoped that maybe — just maybe — this could tell you everything he wanted to tell you.
everything you deserve to know.
with a soft touch of his lips, he knows you’ll understand. you always did, he remembers.
“sae.” you mumble as he pulls away, your eyes blinking open.
he breathes out, only for a gasp to get stuck in his throat as you lean towards him, returning the kiss. you were so gentle, so loving.
“don’t say another word to me.” you say after breaking away. “your kisses are enough for me to understand how you feel.”
“i like the way you kiss me, name.”
“i know.”
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chosows · 2 days
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CHAMPAGNE COAST 🥏 - Beach vacation with Sukuna (P1)
Ryomen Sukuna x Fem Reader
Summary: Summer arrived and you finally set off for your long awaited vacation. A tropical getaway for two weeks; you hope it will erase the stress you and Sukuna have faced recently. Work has not been easy on either one of you, but it was worth it to save up for this getaway. A destination filled with sun, sea, and a lot of…
Word count: 2.5k
Contains: Established relationship, no smut (in this part), suggestive actions & conversations, fluff, public displays of affection, Sukuna being cocky, healthy relationship, alternative universe: no curses, Sukuna is human, Sukuna is not Yuji
Note: p2 will have smut because the vote decided to split practically even. the title and plot is based on + inspired by the song champagne coast by blood orange
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Saving up a sufficient amount of money greatly assisted in your deposit for a worthwhile summer vacation. Sukuna picked up extra shifts at work to help you stabilise the funds, and now you have finally arrived at the destination you fawned over for months. The airport rush resulted in an argument between the two of you; both are now silently seated in a taxi to be driven to the place you will be staying. It’s hard to stay mad at him while the sun is shining down and the breeze sways the thriving vegetation. You put your hand on top of his and squeeze it, beaming at him as the scent of the sea wafts in through the open window. He took a deep breath and cocked his head slightly aside, staring at you through squinted eyes. Even though you frustrated him, he ended up cracking a smile; he’s unable to resist that pretty little face—it’s his only weakness.
“Did you remember to pack your swim shorts?” You prod his skin with your fingernail until he swats you off, now making sure his hand is the one on top.
“How many times do I need to answer that question? Yes, I packed them. Even if I didn’t, I could just buy some.”
“But we have matching ones; it won’t look good on the photos if we’re mismatched.” 
“I have my swim shorts; stop stressing yourself out.”
“Okay, I’m sorry; I just want this to be perfect. I’m so excited!”
“I can tell. Save it until we get to the beach.” Finishing the conversation, he lifts your hand to his lips and places a kiss on each knuckle, hoping that will somehow settle you down.
Rather than soothing you, it prompted the bundle of passion in your chest to burst, now sliding closer to him in the backseat to rest your head against his biceps. You adore Sukuna more than anything and you never fail to show it. Despite having two polar opposite love languages, as a pair you work in perfect harmony. No matter how much he claims he despises how touchy you can be, you catch him smiling to himself when you gaze up during prolonged cuddles. He has never been a good liar—he’s far too much of an honest man. Other than the cold front he puts on display, he truly does possess the warmest heart.
The taxi stops as the road comes to an end, allowing you both to gather your luggage and head up the path to the place where you will be staying for the next two weeks. It wasn’t anything luxurious—it was the cheapest villa you could find, but it was breathtaking nonetheless. After a short five-minute hike, you reach the door and unlock it using the key provided—the furnishing is sourced from local products, giving it an extreme tropical aesthetic. It was a pop of colour followed by a unique architectural design, and it blew your expectations far out of the park. You were ecstatic. Sukuna, who was left hurling the luggage, finally makes it through the door and slumps back onto the wall—his forehead dripping with sweat.
“Thank you; I love you.” You push yourself onto your tiptoes and place your hand on his chest for support, leaning into the peck before sweeping your baggage away.
“I know you do. Who else would carry all your shit?” Sukuna strides into the living area and sinks onto the sofa, staring up at the intricate details, “Place is pretty nice; I thought you said it wouldn’t be that good.”
“There weren't many photos online—I was just hoping it was real and we didn’t get scammed.”
“You are far too reckless to be allowed to handle that much money,” He stretches before standing and follows you upstairs, finding you lying flat on the bed in the master bedroom, “Aren’t you going to get changed? I thought you wanted to go to the beach.”
“I was testing out the mattress—it’s comfy. Wear your red swim shorts, I’m wearing my red bikini.” 
Since Sukuna is beginning to rush you, it’s best to get back on track. You strip from your plane attire and turn your back as you slip out of your lingerie. The bikini you chose was rather skimpy—you didn’t quite acknowledge that until you were putting it on. Bikini tops are notorious for coming undone, and you just had to pick one with the thinnest string. You pout your lips as you fidget, attempting to tie it until another set of hands make their presence known. Sukuna rubs your shoulders before tying a secure knot, then slaps your barely covered ass from behind.
“Make sure you put one of those cover things on.” He tosses the sarong near you and you nudge it aside with your foot for now.
“Do you think the top is too small for me?” You stand in the mirror, doing your best to snuggly tuck your breasts in.
“I like it; I think you look sexy.” Of course he does—what man could complain about that sight? He slides his hands around your waist and pulls you into a cuddle, resting his chin on top of your head.
“Let me see what you look like,” You wriggle free from his grasp and spin around, his chiselled figure instantly catching your eye while your tongue grazes over your dehydrated lips, “Wow.”
“Wow? Is that all?” He crosses his arms, a subtle way to flex his biceps.
“You look really good. Very hot.” 
“That’s better. Shall we go? You already packed a beach bag.”
“Ah-ah!” You grip Sukuna’s wrist before he heads out the bedroom door, stopping him in his tracks, “You need some sunblock.”
“I don’t burn in the sun—you know that.”
“Still, sunblock is good for your skin. Just let me put some—”
“No, I’ll be fine. Use it on yourself; I don’t need any.”
“One day you’re going to regret all that confidence.” You glare at him through the side of your eye while you lather your entire body, sure not to miss a spot.
“One day you’ll miss it. Hurry up; the sun will go down at the pace you’re moving. Should buy yourself some moonblock.”
“You’re hilarious—just take my bag downstairs and wait by the door!” You toss the sunblock back into your tote and his footsteps descend, leaving you to finish getting ready in peace.
When you’re satisfied with your hairstyle, you step into your sandals and meet him downstairs. He opens the door for you and allows you to tread out first, instantly greeted with the overwhelming intensity of the sun. It was sweltering; you felt as though you couldn’t take a proper breath. Thankfully, the air isn’t still. The breeze will make this bearable, it should increase when you move closer to the coast. If you had to guess, you would assume this is UV ten. You use your hand to provide shade while you walk down the path leading to the beach, Sukuna’s sweaty fingers intertwined with yours. Neither one of you could see properly—equally as blinded. Reaching the final step of the stairs which seemed to last minutes, you come in contact with the sand and breathe a sigh of relief.
The beach was full of life—different families and couples spread across the entire stretch of sand. It wasn’t bustling, but there were enough people to create an atmosphere. Surfers were busy enjoying the waves while children were building castles, heroically digging moats believing it would save their structure from the flood of sea water which is inbound. You find a spot away from the others and drop onto the ground, digging your hand through your bag to pull out the beach towel. This area has now been claimed by you and Sukuna. Since there won’t be much fun sitting around, you packed a frisbee you intend to use.
“Can we play?” You hand the frisbee over to him and he stands up, backing away to create a fair distance, “Don’t throw it too—”
Before you had time to finish your sentence, Sukuna had launched the frisbee using his full strength—it went soaring through the air. You begin chasing after it, dodging through herds of people to make it to the place where it landed before a child runs off with it. You were mortified by how you were panting—you felt like a dog playing fetch. He stood there with his hands on his hips, appearing miniscule from the position you’re in. You dash back, sensing the eyes of other adults burning through you. This was supposed to be a small-scale game, not a quarter of a span of land.
“Don’t do that! You don’t have to throw it like you’re competing in the Olympics, just do it like this.” You prepare to show him how it should be done, only for your throw to fail and the frisbee to fall a metre away from where you’re standing.
“Good job, baby. Threw it really far.” Sukuna grins; he recognises your pride plummeting rapidly and thrives in it.
“You are about to get on my last nerve.” You bite your cheek as you pick the frisbee up, hurling it his way only for him to catch it mid-air.
“That one wasn’t too bad; since when were you so competitive?” He throws it lighter this time, though you still can’t seem to grab it.
“Since my boyfriend decided to be an asshole who thinks he can win everything.”  The game goes back and forth, as does the clash of words.
“What’s his name? I know I’m not the asshole you’re referring to.”
“Can we do something else?” You snuggle the frisbee to your chest, closing the gap created between the two of you.
“You are a terrible sore loser,” He bends down and kisses your forehead, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “You weren't doing that bad—no need to get yourself upset.”
“I tried my best.”
“I know you did; you did quite well,” Sukuna takes the frisbee and puts it back in your bag, pulling out the deflated beach ball as an alternative, “Should we play catch? I know you like that.”
“Yes, let’s get closer to the water.” You drag Sukuna along while he puffs air into the ball, making it far firmer than it should be.
Now that the ball is full, you toss it to Sukuna. It was a peaceful take as opposed to the frisbee, both kneeling in the sea while playing. What Sukuna says about you is true; it doesn’t take much to please you at all. You are content with tossing a $5 ball on a $7000 vacation—excluding spending money. While many other couples would be on guided tours or rejuvenating in spa treatments, you’re now wrestling with him in the shallow waves, getting drenched as he pins you down. The fact that the two of you can have a good time minus the materialistic activities proves how genuine the connection is—you can source raw joy from indulging in each other’s presence. As time progresses, you grow tired and return to the beach towel, catching a glimpse of Sukuna’s bright red skin.
“Does your back hurt?” You stare up at him from the ground and he shrugs.
“Might’ve cut it on some shells when I was lying down.”
“You’re sunburned.” You shake your head, slathering his skin in the sunblock you encouraged him to wear earlier on. If only his pride wasn’t held so high, perhaps he would admit that you were right for once.
“I’d still be fine without the sunblock.”
“I’m sure you would.” You make it to the front of his body and massage it in, keeping the eye contact strong.
“Feels like you’re touching me up.” When your movements go still, he takes the opportunity to sling his arms around you, trapping you in his embrace.
“Do you have to make everything dirty?”
“That’s not dirty.” His hands cup your face while he reels you into a kiss, refusing to dial down his passion despite being in public. You’re slowly lowered to the ground, his body on top while he continues to plaster your face and torso with pecks.
“Sukuna, there are other people here—with children.” You mumble into his mouth and push him back by the forehead, catching that all too familiar glint in his eyes.
“So? Do their parents not kiss? Sounds like a marriage fault. I’m also certain that I’ve just seen an entire senior citizen’s cock—so have that as you will.”
“What!” You spin your head and the naked old couple come into view, your jaw hanging open, “I didn’t know this was a nude beach— Why are there kids here?” 
“This part of the beach isn’t nude—the other half is. There are signs separating the divide; I thought you saw them when we were walking down.”
“I’m horrified.” You murmur, snapping your attention back to Sukuna’s wandering hands.
“You do realise we’ll look like that too one day, don’t you? You’ll have to put up with sucking shrivelled old man dick.”
“Are you sure you’ll be able to get hard?”
“Probably. You’ll always be sexy to me. Couldn’t care less if your skin was wrinkled or sagging; you’re still my girl.”
“Shut up, Sukuna.” His smile was wide; his wonky teeth made him more charming than he should be—even though many people find it unattractive, he pulls it off, a staple of why beauty standards are meaningless.
“Might as well enjoy one another while we’re still young—they seem happy.” Sukuna glances back at the couple and you slap his arm. If there’s one thing about Sukuna, it’s that he has zero shame.
“Stop staring at them! You’ve made your point; you’re being rude.”
Attentive to your orders, Sukuna directs his gaze back to you and lays down on top of your chest. Hoisting another one of the towels from your bag, he covers himself, occupied with finding a comfortable position to lounge. He was crushing you, but that’s something you have gotten used to—it was similar to snuggling up with a giant wild cat. He may be a brooding, well-built man, but your set of eyes see him differently. His eyelashes flutter shut while your nails scratch his scalp, the jet lag hitting him much harder than it hit you. You lay with him for an hour, stroking his hair while he caught up on missed sleep. Nature is the source of peace—the swash of water and the birds chirping was aiding relaxation, all the stress of working and planning slipping from your mind. A finger slides up your inner thigh, concealed by the blanket as Sukuna’s body shifts.
“Did you have a nice nap?” You lift the towel you draped over his head to protect him from the sun, and he mumbles his first few words in a raspy tone.
“I had a dream about you,” He grabbed your thigh, squeezing the flesh roughly, his index finger grazing against the edge of your bikini bottoms. While you would usually brush his tone off due to him just waking up, it is blatantly imbedded with sensual intent, “Can we go back to the villa?”
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sacredthethreadgvf · 3 months
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Limelight | Jake Kiszka x Reader | Part 1.
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Word Count: 13.7k
Prologue
Chapter Warnings: Smoking the herb, Jakes kind of an asshole, kissing and making out. Slight mentions of poor mental health that could be triggering for some. Mentions of self pleasure (f).
A/N: Thank you for being patient with me while I put this story together for you meticulously. I cannot wait to continue to share this story with everyone and I truly hope you all enjoy the slow burn that is only part 1 of our dear series. Buckle up, we have quite the journey together. I have to give the biggest shout out to @joshym, my dear Elisabeth, this story would truly be nothing without your insight. Thank you for your undying support while I navigate this story and for helping me button it up to share with everyone. 
Dear readers, as always, if I have forgotten to add something to my warnings or if there is anything that is triggering, please mention it so I can add such to my warning label. 
Enough of me rambling, I hope you enjoy!
****
July 28th 
STARCATCHER
Houston, TX.
Your alarm blared wildly at 3 am on a Monday morning to your dismay. You had barely slept unfortunately due to the dread of getting on a plane and meeting your new boss in about 13+ hours. Normally, when you are contracted with a new artist there’s a meet and greet between you to see how you would mesh together, to understand what your new boss is looking for in their assistant, what was a big no and what was a necessity. You took this part of your job very seriously. 
When Brian informed you that the boys were already on the road and you could not meet in the safe haven of the office with Brian one seat away from you, your heart sank. 
You were going into this new job knowing nothing about your boss other than what you were able to research on your own.
Jake Kiszka. A young guitarist seemingly at the height of his career with his brothers and his friend.
Your flight to Houston had ultimately gone faster than you wanted it to. Your anxiety grows more and more as you watch the time tick by on your phone screen. You tried your best to distract yourself with music and reading but found that trying to force your brain to not think about something only made it mock you and remind you about it more. Once you landed, you were immediately meeting with the band's current assistant Rose, who was coming to pick you up from the airport with a “runner”. You were going to be thrown to the wolves quite literally tonight. There was a show and you were told to be ready to go to the best of your ability. 
Grabbing your bags off the carousel you walked to the doors in the busy airport, your lungs begging for fresh air after sitting in a stuffy plane for a few hours now. Stepping out you felt the Houston heat invade all your senses and looked to your left to see a short brown hair girl waving you down with a big smile in front of a white van. That must be Rose. 
As you approached closer you got a good look at her features. You could describe her as a cute “mousey” looking girl. Small nose, adorable little smile, and a short bob with bangs which she tried her best to tie up and away from her neck. 
“You must be Y/N!” She said, greeting you with a wider smile. 
“That would be me!” You smiled back at her. 
“Here let me help you with your bags.” You helped her pick up your very full suitcase and lay it in the van. You followed her into it shortly after you got your luggage situated. “Alright Chris, were ready to go!” She said, patting the headrest of the driver's seat. She turned to you and gave you a soft smile. 
“So, Y/N! Tell me about yourself. I already know a bit from what Nick told me about you after connecting with your agency but tell me more!” 
You softly giggled at the energy Rose was giving off. You knew you two would be fast friends. 
“There's not much to tell honestly!” You really hated questions like this. 
“Oh cmon, how did you get into the industry!” She sat a little closer to you as the van made a sharp turn. 
“Let's just say my love for music really attracted me to this career choice. I have zero musical talent but I do love being around it. So I figured I would settle for the fun life of knowing what goes on backstage and working with artists one on one.”
“Ah, you're chasing after the limelight huh?” Rose grinned at you.
“The limelight scares me.” You both laugh. 
After a few beats of silence and a quiet moment of watching the bustling city streets from your window Rose spoke up again. “You'll love the boys. They really are the most genuine down to earth men I have ever had the pleasure of working with. And you'll love Jake,” She winked at you once she had your attention. “He's a looker and a sweetheart.” 
You blushed a bit thinking back to your wine fueled night when you went down a spiral into Greta Van Fleet on the internet. 
“So,” Rose pulled out a little notebook. “Your main focus is Jake tonight, don't let any of the other boys try and con you into helping them out, they're probably going to ask you to do some ridiculous favors just to test you and get under your skin. Especially Joshua.” She rolled her eyes and smirked. 
“I thought you said they were all sweethearts.” You snorted. 
“They are, but they also all have an affinity for trouble. It seems to follow them everywhere.” She giggled. “I'll try to introduce you to Jake when we get to the venue and he can take it from there. I do apologize I cannot show you around much, we are a couple of hours away from the show now and my attention needs to be on Joshua as he can be quite the diva.” 
You raised your eyebrows at her and she rolled her eyes. “Don't ask.”
***
You had a brief moment to drop your bags off at one of the tour buses, which you watched immediately get placed into one of the compartment bins on the side. ‘There goes the promise of a shower and a comfy bed tonight’ You thought to yourself. You were running behind Rose attempting to keep up with her speed walking through the back doors of the venue into the noisy white brick halls, clearly on a mission. 
“Were later than expected,” Rose said, her tone alarming as she glanced at her phone. “Were already past soundcheck, gosh I hope it went okay.” She muttered to herself.
“Here I got you a pass so you don't get thrown out of the venue.” Her tone lightened a bit but you could still see a hint of anxiety in her eyes. “You could easily pass off as one of the boys’ fans and we cant have security throwing out a newbie on day one.” 
You took the little lithograph pass and hung the lanyard from your neck observing its intricate details in the picture. Rose had then given you her phone number and directed you to sit in a dressing room and wait to meet Jake, she apologized profusely that she had to go run off to tend to Josh and you waved her off, understanding that you were the one that was in the way today. 
Sitting on the little loveseat in the room you took your time to observe your surroundings. The typical food and drink set up in an artist's dressing room caught your eye. So he likes wine,  you noted that to yourself for future reference. You noted the neatly placed hairbrush, dyson air wrap, little make up bag. Your eyes finally settled on the silver suit hanging from the back of one of the doors in the room. You pulled your phone out of your little bag and sent a text to your roommate and parents letting them know you at least made it to the venue and you would catch up with them at a later time as you now had to prepare yourself for work mode. 
Your silent moment was interrupted as a tall gentleman who you recognized as the boys’ manager Nick, walked through the door followed by the young guitarist himself. They clearly were in the middle of cracking a joke back and forth as the sound of laughter filled up the once peaceful room. 
“Miss Y/N!” Nick waved towards you with a gesture. “Glad to see you made it here in one piece! Thank you for coming on such short notice, I understand this is moving quite quickly for you. Probably more than you're used to, no?” 
You stood from your spot and extended your hand to shake Nicks. “It's no problem at all. I am a fast learner.” 
“Love to hear that!” He stepped aside briefly and gestured towards the other man occupying the room. “And here is Jake!” 
Jake. Everything you didn't expect and more, although you shouldn't have been surprised. You had only seen photos of Jake on stage when you were doing your “homework”.  As you two got closer to one another, his bergamot cologne overpowered your senses but not in an unpleasant way. He was dressed casually. Almost too casually. A cut off shirt with another button down and jacket laid on top and a pair of way too baggy slacks hanging off of him and a pair of sunglasses hiding his eyes from your view. His hair having a slight wave to it hung from his head.
“Hello Y/N.” He smiled softly at you and extended his hand out for you to shake. You just met the man and yet you already loved the way your name sounded coming from his mouth. 
“Hi.” You heard your own voice squeak in your ears. Why am I like this? You internally rolled your eyes at yourself. 
“Well,” Nick said. “I will leave you both to it. Show time soon Jake. Be ready.” 
Jake nodded and saluted Nick as he walked out the door leaving you both alone. Timidly you watched as Jake waltzed around the dressing room comfortably, grabbing a corkscrew and picking up a bottle of wine from the selection displayed on a table in front of him. 
“You drink?” He asked as he began to pour himself a gracious cup of the red liquid. 
“Uh, yeah I do sometimes.” 
“Would you like a glass?” He reached across the table in front of him to grab another plastic cup and gestured to you. 
You waved him off immediately, “Oh no, no I'm okay thank you.” 
“Cmon, have a bit of wine with me. It's customary when I meet someone to break into a bottle.” His sunglasses still hide his full face from your view.
“Maybe another time,” You sat down on the couch in the room and pulled a notepad out from your back pocket with a pen. “What do you need me to do for you tonight?” 
Jake's eyebrows raised. “Suit yourself I guess.” He approached the vanity opposite where you were sitting and leaned back against it, one ankle crossing over the other. 
“I suppose since we don't have much time I will get myself ready tonight as usual.” You could almost hear the hint of distaste in his mouth.
You watched his Adam's apple bob as he took a big gulp of wine. “I'll just need help with side stage stuff.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you writing that down?” 
While his tone had a hint of curiosity you easily picked up on the scoff that passed his lips. What a prick.. 
“Just want to make sure I dont forget anything important is all. That a problem?” You challenged. 
You watched as his eyebrows rose slightly over his sunglasses. “No.”
“So what is it that you need assistance with at the side stage this evening Mr.Kiszka.” 
He smirked slightly. “Just need to make sure my towels are swapped out every few songs, make sure I have water nearby, and make sure this,” He gestured across the room to the display of wine. “To stay pretty full at all times.” 
“Seems simple enough.” Your pen lifted off of the paper. “Anything else?” 
Jake shook his head no and smirked at you. “Wanna read that list back to me or what?” 
What a douche..
“I'm good thanks. Hey, you good here for a moment? I want to go grab something from my bag on the bus.”
He took another gulp of wine and you watched as his demeanor changed. “All good.” 
You felt like you couldn't get out of that room fast enough, your anxiety taking over. But for what? Why exactly were you feeling like this? Was it the fact that you felt like you couldn't handle the workload given to you? The very minimal workload at that. That couldn't be the case. You had done so much more before this job, juggling multiple members of bands before as a stagehand. Maybe it had something to do with the rather attractive guitarist that you were now working for. 
No no, stop thinking like that you just met him 
He definitely was not what you had expected to be in person. 
***
The countdown for show time came faster than you really wanted it to. You felt like you weren't even close to being prepared for what was ahead of you for the evening. Rose met back up with you again and pulled you along with her to the greenroom where the rest of the band had gathered to say a little prayer before walking to the stage. You picked up on a few things that were said, “May Josh's vocals shine bright, may Jake's guitar never fail, may Danny's drums not break, and let's pray that Sam's bass and mellotron carry us along for a journey.”
“Alright boys!” Rose said rather loudly next to you. “Time for stage!” 
You were not yet prepared for all eyes landing on you at once and for some reason it made you feel rather small all at once. 
“Boys, this is Y/N! Jake's new assistant. Be nice, we want to keep her around.” Rose gestured to you. You watched as chocolate eyes all were focused on you. 
“Hey Y/N!” Everyone but Jake said in unison. 
“This is Josh, Danny and Sam. You will have more time to chit chat and get to know them later on,” Rose said. “For right now, we are cutting it a bit too close for comfort so lets get a move on!” 
Following the boys, security and Rose through the hallway that led to the venue you could hear the screams of anticipation in the background mixed in with the sound of classical music. You could feel a hint of nervousness and tension fill the air as the boys got their cue to enter the stage. This venue was huge, bigger than the ones you were used to seeing. The sound of screams from loyal fans going up an octave once they saw the boys enter the stage which prompted the rest of the venue to follow suit. 
Nothing at all could have mentally prepared you for this moment, nor the events that followed.
***
Everything had gone terribly wrong. 
You had managed to miss every one of Jake's stage cues. To your defense though, you didn't even know what those cues even were or what he had wanted. To further your frustration and embarrassment, you even had a roadie get mad at you and take over grabbing Jake a fresh towel and placing it within reach for Jake. By the time Jake had come off the main stage to go to B Stage in the back of the venue, he was glaring at you. 
“Why don't you just go sit in the dressing room, you're clearly just in the way!” 
You wanted nothing more than to hide away but Rose had come up to you after watching the little incident between you and Jake and encouraged you to stay, just stand stage side on the main stage and let Jake breathe it out. Your heart had been beating wildly in your chest and you couldn't wait for the show to finish to have a moment to yourself.
Rounding the corner your mind felt like it was a mess, buzzing away at a rapid pace with anxious thoughts. Were you made out for this? Smaller bands it was a breeze helping out and working for them, but this felt bigger than you anticipated. Jake seemed to get more and more frustrated with you as the show went on until that moment before the encore. You're praying to the heavens that your face doesn't give away the fact that you were crying, thankful you had packed your mascara into your little purse you had. 
Backstage was buzzing with people. Everyone was currently packing up bins and rolling them to the buses, others shouting orders to one another and pointing in many different directions. The chaos was unnerving compared to earlier before the show. Walking down a long hallway you passed through a few curtains hung up for privacy between the dressing rooms when you heard him. 
“This might have been a mistake.” Jake softly spoke to someone. “She managed to ruin every single thing that I needed tonight.” 
Just let it go, you thought to yourself. It’s not worth getting upset over. He just had a long night.
You just tried to keep yourself busy, helping out in any way you could that didn’t leave you in everyone’s way.
But just as you had decided to pretend as though you were oblivious to his harsh words, it was what he said next that had you throwing that sentiment clear out of the window. 
“I mean, Jesus. You’d have to be some kind of an idiot to not be able to handle something so simple.”
Idiot?
That was most definitely not going to sit comfortably with you. At that point, it wasn’t about “letting it go,” it suddenly became necessary to defend yourself to your new boss who felt the need to say such horrid things about you on your first fucking night.
Your eyes burned with tears of frustration and exhaustion after your long day. You burst through the black curtain and marched up to Jake. 
“First of all, I just fucking got here and had no time to adjust to anything or learn anything about you or what you needed or where to find it.” Your arms crossed in front of your chest. “Second off we don't even know each other and you expect me to know you like the back of your hand? New flash Jake, I dont. So don't just blow me away and throw me to the curb because of one bad night and give me a damn chance.” Your chest was practically heaving by the time you were done speaking. Both Jake and the roadies eyes were wide as saucers staring at you. 
Jake's mouth opened a few times but no words came out. 
“How about instead of undermining me we sit down and actually talk about what you need from me and how I can actually do my job and in a week if I dont ‘have a grasp’ on anything and Im still fucking up? I'll leave you without a word and you won't have to hear from me again. Deal?” 
The roadie Jake was speaking to failed to cover up a laugh with a fake cough and you shot him a glare. He glanced briefly at Jake whose eyes were locked on you with an unreadable expression and then turned away and left you two alone. 
“Y/N, I-” Jake seemed to find his voice just as you started to walk away. 
“Save it.” You shot back at him over your shoulder and muttered under your breath. “Fucking prick.” 
Walking through the same black curtain you had burst through not moments ago you collided with someone who must've been standing close by. “Oh my god Im so sor-”
“That, that was fucking awesome.” Frontman Josh Kiszka himself was grinning wildly at you. 
Your heart leapt out of your throat. “Jesus! Eavesdropping much?” You clenched a hand to your chest. 
Josh laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulder and began to lead you down the hallway, far away from Jake. “No one other than myself or my other brothers really stand up to Jakey boy. You're really giving him a run for his money. I like you!” He flashed you a wide grin.
“Im s-so sorry,” You stuttered. “That was so unprofessional of me to say-”
“No! It was not unprofessional, dont worry about it.” Josh's arm dropped from your shoulder. “Trust me, he's been such a prick these last few weeks he really needed someone to stick it to him other than his own family.” 
You weren't listening to Josh and you were letting your anxiety get the best of you for the second time tonight. You could not lose another client due to a complication. As much as your boss stuck it out for you, you knew he was also not thrilled with your recent issues with the last band you worked with. 
You broke away from Josh and sat in a rouge chair in one of the hallways and held your head in your hands to shield the tears that were beginning to bubble up again in your throat. 
“Hey, Y/N right? That's your name?” Josh asked, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You nodded but refused to look up at him until he pulled your hands back from your face. “Give him some time. Like you suggested, just have the sit down with him and figure out what the hell he needs from you. But maybe save it for tomorrow? No offense, but you look like shit.” 
You huffed a laugh and wiped the rouge tear that slipped down your cheek. “Gee, thanks.” 
“Just trying to lighten the mood,” Josh's voice rang like a song and you felt him reach for your hands. “You seem like you've had quite the day my dear. Here, let me show you to the tour bus and your bunk! I'm assuming you will be riding with us since you're going to be hitched to Jake.” 
“Your assumptions are correct, unfortunately.” You gave him a soft smile to which he returned. 
“My twin definitely has quite the temper sometimes, let me tell you.” Josh sucked a breath between his teeth. “But I promise he's nice. Underneath all the mystery he likes to pretend he holds, he's easy going.” 
“You're twins?” You were surprised. 
“I'm five minutes older so I'm superior.” He threw you a wink.
“A superior pain in the ass.” Jake's voice rang out behind the two of you. Your breath caught in your throat again as you took a glance at the man who you had raised your voice at not nearly 15 minutes prior.
He had apparently showered in a short span of time and his hair was dripping onto his soft beige button up he was now sporting. His eyes were hidden by the same pair of sunglasses from earlier and you watched as he slung the backpack he was carrying over his shoulder. 
“Don't you have somewhere else to be?” Josh rolled his eyes. “Come now Y/N, were almost there.” 
“Don't go stealing my assistant now.” Jake shot back at his twin and Josh just shook his head. Clearly there was some twin telepathy that you were missing as you felt the tension between the two rise.
For a moment there was uncomfortable silence held between the three of you and you did not have the heart to speak up. That silence was quickly broken by the sound of diesel engines roaring in the distance and the footsteps of the twins as you walked in between them. Your arms crossed against your chest again, a sign of defensiveness and protection around the strangers you had just met only hours prior. You three walked through a wide entrance into a huge garage lined with at least 8 buses. Chaos was ahead as you watched workers and roadies buzz about getting things packed into different compartments and wheeled to their respective places. 
Jake's pace sped up and he weaseled his way around you and Josh who were now walking side by side. You watched as Jake got on one of the tour buses and disappeared deeper into it without another word to either of you or the workers around. 
Josh sighed next to you and grabbed your hand briefly and you both stopped walking. “Listen, if he gives you a lot of trouble, come find me. Or Sam. Or Danny. We will keep Jake in check. You seem like a really nice girl and already a great addition to the team. Don't let him get under your skin. He will come around.”
“But Josh, you barely know me. I feel like I messed up big tonight and-” 
Josh held a hand up to stop you from talking which you obeyed. “I don't believe that. Give yourself a chance. I can tell you have the vigor and the right attitude to do this job and I expect we will see great things from you. Plus we have all the time in the world to get to know each other” He winked at you and bumped you with his elbow. 
“Thank you Josh.” You smiled softly. 
“Anytime.” He held his arms open for a hug which you graciously accepted. “Now let's get you settled on the bus yeah?” 
***
July 29th. 
Denver, CO.
You awoke to the sound of multiple voices talking back and forth and the sound of shuffling feet and bags. The clear ring of Josh's laugh falling through the tight hallway of the tour bus bunks. You rubbed your eyes and reached for your phone out of the side pocket of the bunk. 
10:44 AM
Your moment of peace in your secluded bunk was disrupted by a small pull on the drapes of your bunk and you shielded your eyes from the bright light coming from the overhead lights. 
“Rise and shine sleepy head,” Rose smiled at you softly. “Duty awaits.” 
Rose was gracious enough to re-close the drapes to your bunk to shield you from the prying eyes of anyone walking past to exit the bus. You quickly gathered your water bottle phone and charger and pulled the curtains back, still feeling groggy and not processing your surroundings. You realized pretty quickly that having a moment to sit in peace and quiet was not an option as you made eye contact with Jake's reflective sunglasses lenses and Danny's smirk, the aisle of people sitting at a stand still similar to the aisle of a plane. 
“Well well, looks like someone got a good night's sleep.” Danny said, smiling at you and gesturing to your head. 
You felt your hair with your hands, a clear rat's nest on one side of your head and then noticed the feeling of drool on the side of your mouth. Your eyes widened, horrified and you pulled the curtain closed again to hide from the men standing eye level right next to you. An absolutely horrifying experience as you heard the two giggle and mutter something along the lines of ‘I remember when I used to crash in bus bunks like that.’ ‘I remember when I had my first real night's sleep.’
You wished at that moment that you could curl up and cease to exist. 
What a way to start a day. 
Voices and the sound of feet got further away in a few moments and you peeked your head out of the curtain and saw the coast was clear enough for you to finally crawl out of your tour bus coffin and seize the day ahead of you. 
After gathering your necessities and locating your bookbag tucked away in a random corner on a couch, you walked off the bus which was located in a back parking lot of a hotel and you were met with Rose once again awaiting your arrival. “Here, I grabbed your suitcase for you. I'm sorry, I should've told you to keep your book bag stocked last night, at least for small items like your hairbrush for the bus. That was my fault.” 
You grimaced as you were trying to work out the knots in your hair with your fingers. “It's no worries, I think I was too tired to properly function anyways yesterday to even consider it.”
“Get used to it kiddo,” She began walking towards the hotel. “You will have to learn how to thrive on no sleep with these hooligans. They will surely give you a run for your money.” 
“Were not all that terrible!” Danny had caught up with you and Rose.
“That might be the best joke I have heard all week!” Rose said.
Danny covered his heart with his hand. “I'm wounded Rose, I'm wounded real deep.”
Rose rolled her eyes and looked back at you as she approached the front doors of the hotel. “I already gathered everyone's room keys and checked the team in, something one day you and I will hopefully switch off on because it can be a lot of work.” You watched Danny grab a hotel key from Rose's hand, you weren't even sure where she pulled it from. 
“You will be rooming with me for most of this tour so we can assist each other with duties. Even though you primarily work with Jake it will be easier for me to help you with things from time to time to make sure we are all on the same page with the band.” 
You nodded at her in agreement and followed her into the hotel elevator. 
“I wanted to apologize for last night. I really did throw you to the wolves and that was my fault. I told Jake to come by our room in about an hour so we can sit down and discuss your duties in further detail so what happened last night doesn't happen again.” She threw you an apologetic look as you grimaced.
“I feel bad about last night.” The elevator dinged announcing your arrival onto your designated floor. 
“Seriously Y/N, don’t. Shit was all whacky and all over the place and you had no clue what to expect. I should've had you shadowing someone, I should've had you shadowing me for the night so you could see how the boys work. I blame myself for this one.”
You arrived at your room and Rose swiped the keycard for entry. The room was modest, two queen beds, tv, little desk and table in the corner and bathroom. The beds white linens looked rather inviting for a nap later on if you had the time to take it. Just as both of you were getting settled into the room, you for a shower and Rose unpacking a few of her personal items you heard her sigh rather loudly. 
You paused what you were doing, “What's up?” 
“Hmm? Oh nothing,” Her head softly shook. “Just Josh needing a multitude of things. I will be back shortly, I must go tend to the king of vocals.” 
You both laughed. “Enjoy your shower!” She said, and with that she was out the door and you were left alone in peace.
Your shower was not living up to your standards with the dang water pressure being practically nothing but the warmth of the water, the smell of your favorite soap, and the normalcy of your shower routine put a satisfied smile on your face. 
Hopping out, you wiped some of the steam that had collected on the mirror and stared at yourself. Thank goodness for showers giving you and your hair a fresh start. That rat's nest had been worse than you expected this morning on the side of your head, understandable why the boys smirked at you.
You heard a soft knock at the door, assuming it was Rose you didn't bother to put on any clothes and just clung the towel closer to your body. Unfortunately for you, when the door swung open you were met with the young guitarist whose eyes seemed to bug out of his head at the sight of you wrapped in a skimpy white towel. 
“Oh my god I am so sorry,” You panicked and pulled the towel tighter around yourself. “I thought you were Rose.” 
Jake cleared his throat and attempted to maintain eye contact with you. “It's, uh, its not a problem.” 
“Uh, come on in, I just need to grab some clothes really quick.” 
You stepped aside to let Jake into your room, heart in your throat out of embarrassment that your new boss has seen you in your current state. You quickly grabbed a tshirt and leggings from your bag while Jake made himself comfortable at a little table that was in the room, pulling out a notebook and setting it in front of himself. You locked yourself back in the bathroom and took a deep breath to ground yourself. 
You made your way out of the bathroom to find Jake now across the room looking out of the window at the view of Denver, Colorado and its bustling streets below. His damn outfit makes your head feel fuzzy. His half unbuttoned shirt half tucked in his pants.
“Hey.” You said softly. 
Jake turned around and you watched as his wandering eyes traveled across your now fully clothed body, briefly meeting yours as his lips curled in the smallest, barely there smirk. “Hello,” he uttered, the corner of his mouth still upturned.
“Listen, I want to apologize for raising my voice at you yesterday. I totally understand if you want to drop me as your assistant, that was highly unprofessional of me .” 
Jake waved you off quickly. “No, it was unprofessional of me to even be talking that way about you. If anything, I’m the one who should be sorry. You were right, I haven't even given you a chance.” He gave you a soft smile, his chestnut eyes glimmering as they peered into yours. “How about we start over. Forget about last night, yeah?” 
“I think I’d be okay with that.” You gave him a soft smile back, finding it hard not to at his contagious charm.
“Great,” he says, offering you a firm hand for a more professional greeting.“Hello I am Jake,” 
“Hi Jake, Im Y/N.” You took his hand in yours, fighting back a giggle as the blush began to rise on your cheeks. The goosebumps instantly began to prickle your skin at the feeling of his touch. You gasped softly at your own body's reaction and tried to cover it up. You were unsure if you were successful or not but Jake did not acknowledge it so you were hopeful. 
“Y/N, it is nice to meet you. I look forward to working together.” He gave you a wide toothy grin now which naturally, you should've guessed, was breathtaking. 
No wait, stop. Don't think like that. This is your boss, your job. Remain professional dammit..
Jake gestured to the table behind you, “Why don't we get started.” 
You nodded and grabbed your own notebook, pen and planner from your bookbag and joined Jake at the little table. 
“I'll go easy on you I swear.” He flashed you another dazzling smile, this time with an added wink and a sweet chuckle under his breath. Why God..why.. 
“Rose might have some more things for you, I know she's excited there will be someone else around to assist but you are first and foremost my assistant so you'll be handling my things primarily and then I may share you with the rest of the crew as needed. You okay with that?” 
You clicked your pen, “Of course!” 
“Fantastic.” He opened up his little notebook which had a little bullet point list written down. You glanced at it and were able to read out most of it but averted your eyes out of respect. You didn't want him to think you were nosey. At least not yet. 
“I know we already talked about most of this last night so it may be repetitive, my apologies for that. I'll keep things pretty simple for you and just reiterate some things,” Jake wiped the corner of his mouth. “Pre shows Im just looking for help with getting ready. Making sure my suits are ready to go, my boots that I need are clean of scuffs. Might need help with make up here and there,” He cleared his throat. “Just some eyeliner nothing fancy like Josh. Maybe some things with my hair but I'm not sure.” 
 “I can definitely help you explore some ideas.” You gave him a soft smile that he returned. 
“Rose usually handles the food and drinks and making sure the venues have everything we need, I'm not sure if she wants to keep it that way or not but we will have to ask her.” 
“Might be easier for her too but yes, we will discuss.” You said. 
Jake turned a page in his little book, “Okay now on stage stuff, I know you also got a brief idea of what that would be for me.” 
You grimaced slightly at the memory of Jakes harsh tone at last nights show telling you to ‘fuck off’ when you were so clearly in his way and not helping. At least now that you're sitting down, hopefully that won't happen again.
“Basically I just need those fresh towels ready, need my drinks to stay topped off like I mentioned, making sure the roadies follow the schedule for which guitar for which song, yada yada. Making sure I have guitar picks ready to go.” He paused to turn the page again and read down the list. “Then I guess just tending to my basic requests throughout the tour. I promise I'm really not that high on maintenance even if it didn't seem that way last night.” He gave you another soft smile. 
“This is all very doable for me. My only request is to keep an open communication with me and work with me, not against me if things go a little haywire while I get used to the flow of your tour.” 
Jake nodded. “Deal.” 
“So I guess Rose is not making this little meeting of ours.” You giggled softly and began packing up your notebook and pen.
“I'm not surprised,” Jake said, mirroring your actions. “Josh can be very demanding of attention you'll learn that pretty quickly.” 
You giggled. “I think I already have.” 
***
August 4th.
STARCATCHER
Seattle, WA. 
“Damn, you really have some dedicated fans.” You said, looking out the van window at the fans lined up on the street along the venue. 
Jake pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “We really do, they're awesome.”  
You subconsciously twisted the rings on your fingers in your lap from the feeling of anxiety creeping up in your throat. Jake was the biggest artist that you have worked for so far. Even after your conversation with him the other day where he laid out everything he needed from you in detail once again, you still felt unsure about how tonight would go. 
You felt Jake's hand on your shoulder pulling you back to reality. “You okay over there? You're a million miles away.” 
You glanced over at him and smiled softly, “Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just a little nervous I guess.” 
“No need to be Y/N, things will go smoothly! I promise not to be an asshole tonight.” You both shared a soft laugh.
Things did not in fact go smoothly…
When you and Jake had initially arrived at the venue you were met with a very frazzled looking Rose and others bustling around. 
“Rose, what the fuck is going on?” Jake had sat her down on the couch in one of the green rooms. Josh on the opposite end of the couch, threw his arm around her for comfort as tears streamed down her face. Across the room Sam and Danny stood unusually quiet and still. 
“One of the runners,” She blew her nose. “Dropped off your stage outfits at the dry cleaners too late and I don't know if we will even have your stage outfits ready to go, let alone everything else adding up. Were missing mic packs somewhere and-and..” She hiccuped. Across the room you saw Danny give Sam a slight nudge with his elbow. 
“Okay deep breaths Rose Bud, remember like we practiced the other day?” Josh said, pulling her closer to him. “We will get this figured out. Don't forget Y/N is here, maybe she can help out a bit.” 
“Yeah, Y/N can help out.” Jake spoke up, volunteering you. “I don't really have much on my list today and I don't need her until later.” 
Rose sniffled and looked up at you. “Would you be able to help?” 
All eyes were on you and the panic you felt in the van crept back up in your throat. “Yeah, uh yes I can see what I can do.” 
Rose jumped up off the couch and gave you a tight hug, “Oh thank the heavens!” 
Shortly after Rose had calmed down a bit, everyone dispersed for the most part. You followed closely behind Sam and Danny as they exited the green room. You picked up on their quiet whispers shared between each other as you turned the corner, your presence apparently going unnoticed. 
“Dude, you gotta go get those mic packs.” Danny whispered, bumping Sam with his elbow like he did in the green room. 
“I know, I know!” Sam responded, squeezing past a few dolly boxes. “I have to go dig them out from my case.” 
“Okay,” You spoke up. “So am I to assume that you two had something to do with the disappearance of those mic packs?” Both of the boys' heads turned quickly in your direction and their eyes grew wide. They had been caught. 
“I do not know what you are talking about Y/N.” Danny gave you a sly grin, turning around to face you. 
You rolled your eyes, “Of course not. You know, you two have some impeccable timing it seems.” 
“Well it's not like we knew everything would go to shit today!” Sam threw his hands up defensively. You couldn't contain your giggle as a smile broke across both of their faces. 
“You two are terrible and you're officially on my radar,” You pushed on both of their shoulders lightly. “Lets go get them. At least then maybe Rose will stop crying.” 
To your luck, the boys had not so sneakily hid the mic packs in plain sight in Sam's wardrobe case and you had them returned to Rose who swore up and down that you were a good luck charm. She had directed you to give them to Dale who was managing sound and tech for the shows. Walking through a little passageway you made your way into the arena where the beeping sounds of heavy machinery seemed to bounce off the ceilings. Techies and roadies alike were bustling around hanging lights, hooking up mechanicals and wires. The stage was being built and even chairs were already being set up on the floor. You had found Dale pretty quickly who seemed relieved to see the mic packs in your hands and thanked you before turning back to a few other workers and continuing directing them on where things will be going.
You took a moment before reentering the winding halls of Denver's Ball Arena to admire how big the venue was from where you stood on the floor. You couldn't begin to imagine playing to an arena packed full of people like this night after night. The empty seats reaching as high as the ceiling made your stomach churn at the thought of sitting up that high. You wondered how many people would pack in tonight to see the boys play their music. You then noticed a small movement out of the corner of your eye as you panned the rest of the arena in awe. 
Was that? No..
Your lips separated with a low gasp. Jake was running. He must've been doing laps around the arena. You stood frozen in your spot watching him closely as he rounded the corner of the venue furthest away from you. His hair was tied back in a low bun against his neck, he had abandoned his usual attire and was sporting a pair of running shorts (something you couldn't picture him wearing) and the skin of his bare torso so clearly glistening in the lighting from the sweat on his body. 
You hadn't realized how hard you had been staring until he rounded the corner and was running towards you. He smirked at you as you locked eyes and your heart leapt in your chest at the realization that you had been caught ogling him. You quickly turned on your heel before he got any closer and booked it down the hall. 
What the hell is wrong with me..snap out of it..
“See something you like?” You heard his voice ring out behind you. Cocky bastard.
You turned around and looked at Jake, it was even worse having him up close to you now. Subconsciously you waited until he caught up to you to continue walking down the hall. 
“Cat got your tongue or something?” He smirked at you as he wiped his sweaty face with a towel. His cologne became ever more powerful as it was radiating off of his hot skin. It was intoxicating. The scents of bergamot and vanilla create a sensual aroma that clouded your mind. Your mouth ran dry and you tried so hard not to steal glances at his sweaty chest. You probably looked like an idiot screaming at yourself mentally to respond to him. 
“What would you like for lunch Jake?” You cleared your throat finally. “Anything specific you like for your post run ritual?” 
“Mmm, a hot shower.”His tone caught you off guard.
Was he doing this on purpose? 
You took a chance and looked his way and you caught what you thought was the tail end of a wink sent towards you. Was he fucking flirting with me? No, no…no way. 
He let out a booming laugh, “I just usually have some sort of chicken wrap. Rose should have it already somewhere if you don't mind grabbing that for me.” He wiped the back of his neck and let his hair down as you two got closer to his designated dressing room. 
“Sure.” 
His fingers grazed your lower back as you cut the corner to the dressing room and your skin felt like it was on fire.
***
The rest of the day ended up running a lot more smoothly than the morning did. Rose was able to get the dry cleaners to expedite the cleaning of the stage outfits and they were back at the venue right as the boys finished their soundcheck and you and Rose hastily worked together to get Josh's jumpsuits laid out for the evening after hanging up suits in other dressing rooms. You had written down a small list in your phone of everything you needed for Jake to have a smooth show tonight. 
Towels by his guitar case. Check. 
One towel on the amp. Check.
Check with Tim to make sure Jakes guitars are all tuned and ready. Check. 
Snacks and drinks in the dressing room. Check. 
Wine bottles in guitar case. Check. 
Water. Big check. 
You felt really prepared for tonight and mentally ready for his cues on stage. Luckily for you, Jake said he had a handle on getting himself ready for tonight and you found him laughing along with something Danny and Sam had apparently said as you walked into the green room for final checks before the walk to the stage. 
“Alright boys!” Rose clapped her hands together. “Everyone has their wireless packs all charged and ready to go?” 
Everyone nodded collectively.
“Let's have a show!” 
***
August 10th
STARCATCHER
Los Angeles, CA.
The morning had gone smoothly thanks to your multiple alarms set to ring every 5 minutes no matter how many times you snoozed them. You were exhausted. Everyone was exhausted actually. The last week of what felt like back to back shows, sleeping in tour bus bunks and arriving at venues, the first thing at the crack of dawn was catching up to everyone. You wanted nothing more than to keep your head buried underneath the soft white linens of the hotel bed sheets with the AC blasting on full, but duty calls and you had to get your adult child to the venue sooner rather than later. Rose of course was up at the crack of dawn and out of the room already tending to the frontman of the band who unfortunately for her, was an early riser regardless of the time he went to bed the night before.
As you did your morning routine and applied some concealer underneath your eyes you were thanking the universe that you were heading home tomorrow. Just one more day, you thought. One more show after this and I can sleep in my own bed and shower in my own home. 
Getting yourself moving in the morning was not bad after you had a few sips of your favorite caffeinated drink, however, getting Jake moving in the morning was another thing. He had a tendency to sleep in until the last moment possible. Not to mention actually getting him ready and out of the hotel room on time was like trying to put a coat on a toddler, near to impossible without some sort of fight. Yet, to your surprise today, he was already up and waiting for you to meet him. He had even called a runner for you two already and was waiting with a breakfast sandwich ready to go. 
“When the hell did you get this?” You asked Jake as you buckled up in the white van. 
“Shortly after I woke up and decided I was hungry.” He smirked. 
You rolled your eyes and decided not to press any further. Thankfully, it seemed as if everything at the venue was in working order. You and Rose caught up on administrative things for the band throughout the day, made sure everyone had their plane tickets booked and ready to go for a quick and easy trip home to Nashville tomorrow. Naturally of course, just because the morning and afternoon had gone smoothly, this meant something had to go haywire before the show. 
Rose had finished Josh and Sams make up for the night. You had been giggling to yourself listening to Josh and Sam. You officially learned what a “Rhinestone Diary” was as the bands social media manager, Kaiya, helped put it together. While the Rhinestone Diary offered a moment of fun for a few, for others, tensions were high after so many shows. Lack of sleep and being cooped up together for a period of time was really taking a toll on everyone's emotions. 
You were typing away on your computer next to the main green room meant for the band to hang out when raised voices pulled you out of your focus. 
“Thats fucking stupid!” 
“Jake,” Josh raised his voice. “You cant just make changes like that last fucking minute because you dont want to play Frozen Light.” 
“Jake,” Rose spoke softly. “We already sent out the setlist to the sounds and light guys.” 
“Okay and?” He snapped. “It's not the first time we've made a last minute change.” Your typing paused and you closed the lid on your laptop. 
“Were not fucking playing Highway Tune!” Josh practically screamed. You had never heard Josh raise his voice that loud. You had heard stories of how bad fights between the Kiszkas could get before but nothing could have prepared you for witnessing it in real time. 
You had abandoned your laptop and you leaned up against the door frame just as Jake seemed to be exiting the room. 
“Fucking selfish prick you know that,” He turned around and looked at Josh. “You know this is just as much my band as it is yours, its called fucking compromise.” 
“It's not much of a compromise when we completely change something that I do not want!” Josh's arms crossed and Jake glared at Josh, you and Rose. 
Greaaat, now I'm caught in the crossfire.  
“What fucking ever.” Jake threw his hands up and brushed past you in the door frame. He began walking down the short hallway towards his dressing room before turning to you. “You coming?” 
Without a word you pushed off the door frame and walked over towards him. Your arms had been crossed against your chest in defense from the rising tensions between the boys. Following Jake closely you watched as he yanked his jacket off and set down on the chair in front of his mirror, he seemed defeated. 
Your arms uncrossed, “Anything I can do for you Jake?” 
“Uh, yeah, I could use some help with my eyeliner pencil,” He let out a breath. “Im shaking so damn bad I can't sharpen the thing.” 
You nodded your head and dug through the little makeup bag that was set aside for Jake specifically and located the little black eyeliner pencil that was more than halfway used. The sound of you sharpening the little pencil was the only noise that you heard in the room as you felt Jake observing you. 
Unfortunately for you, the soft tip of the pencil kept crumbling in the sharpener as you kept twisting it and twisting it. 
“Fuck.” You muttered and felt Jake's eyes glance up at you. “God dammit.” You muttered again as the tip broke for the third time.
“That's the only one I have, stop sharpening it!” Jake snapped at you.
“It's fine Jake we're going home in a day or so, we can get another one.” You kept sharpening the pencil. 
“Youre fucking wasting it!” He snapped at you again. This time, he had snatched the pencil and the sharpener out of your hand. “Just go fucking get my phone charger off the bus Y/N.”
“Huh?”
“Go fucking get my charger from the bus. Its not that fucking hard to follow directions.” 
You instantly recoiled at his raised voice and your head dropped, you felt like you haad fucked up again. When you took a chance to glance at Jake his back was turned to you and your shoulders slumped. You watched as he examined the pencil in his hands and then threw it forcefully into the garbage can across the room.Great, there I go again. It was a usual occurrence for you to blame yourself for others emotions even if you were not consciously aware of it. 
The walk to the tour bus gave you a breath of fresh air at least and allowed you to clear your mind. 
By the time you got back into the arena it was already showtime and the boys had been walked to the stage by security. You plugged Jake's phone in and set it on the vanity in the green room, briefly glancing at his notifications but not trying to pay any real attention to them as you saw a list of texts and a few other notifications. Not my business….
Grabbing a bottle of Cabernet off of a nearby table you began your descent to the stage just as you heard the opening lines of what you quickly learned as The Falling Sky and slowed your stride. You knew Jake was angry but you hated that the anger was directed towards you. He had no right to take his frustrations out on something that you didn't cause and you made a mental note to put him in his place another time. Right now, your focus and your job was on Jake putting on a good show for his fans. 
Walking up to the side of the stage you checked in with Brian, Jakes “right hand” roadie, that all of his guitars were ready along with additional strings and made a note to tell Rose that you needed more nylon strings for Jakes acoustic as he had already broke a few since the last few shows. Standing near the side stage you observed as the crowd went wild for any little movement the boys seemed to make. Josh's voice echoing like siren through the venue echoing off the same walls you had observed in other venues still made your heart stand still 
These boys had talent, talent beyond comprehension, and though you had only known them for a short while you were mesmerized by the craft they created for as young as they were. You found your eyes closely following Jake and while you tried to convince yourself it was because of your job, having to know what he needed at all times, deep down you knew it was because he was the most mesmerizing of them all..
Watching Jake play guitar was like a drug, something you didn't think you needed until it was right in front of you. The raw talent and animalistic way that he played the guitar, the way he made it sing, the way he made it moan and bend to his every need..
Your thoughts were cut short as Rose came up beside you and signaled to the break in the setlist in front of you. Almost simultaneously Jake looked back side stage and signaled to his amp where his cup of wine lay hidden. That was your cue. Staying out of sight you twisted the cap and graciously poured his cup half full. He gave you a half smile and a small thumbs up as a thanks but you returned his gesture with a frown because fuck his attitude earlier. Even if he was feeling better from the energy from the fans in the room doesn't mean that you had forgotten how he had snapped at you. 
You made your way back down the stairs side stage and stood by with your arms crossed thinking about how much you wanted this show to end so you could go lay in your hotel room bed and forget about today. You took a deep breath as you heard Jake's guitar wail again, You'll be in your own bed in a few days time, you'll be in the quiet of your apartment, just keep hanging on Y/N..
You watched in horror as Jake approached you, his red gibson swinging on his hips. He stepped down the back stairs with confidence and handed you the white rose he was carrying, “I'm sorry I was a dick to you tonight.” 
Oh. 
You stood frozen holding the long stem with the white flower delicately on top as Jake gave you a small smile and walked back up the stairs. This was definitely something you were not expecting. 
***
August 20th
HOME SWEET HOME…
Nashville, TN. 
It had been a little while since the day Jake presented you with his apology. You had accepted the rose willingly when he handed it to you, but you felt in utter shock over it. That evening after the show Jake had sat you down and told you he was really going to work on his attitude towards you, that it was unfair you were taking the brunt of it when his anger had been all towards his brothers. You had parted ways on good terms after coming home to Nashville and you were enjoying your quiet time away from the limelight, and the chaos. You had just sat down on your couch and cozied up for the night when your phone screen lit up next to you unexpectedly.
Jake Kiszka
Hey, you busy tomorrow? 
Oh. This is unexpected. 
You were snuggled up with a glass of your favorite beverage in hand and your roommate's cat, Beans, purring against your leg as you pet him softly. You had the tv on in the background but you were curled up with your favorite book at the moment, rereading it for the fourth time. Seeing Jake's name across your screen caused your heart to jump in your chest. You haven't heard from him in a few weeks, since the day you parted in the airport to head home when your roommate Addison came to pick you up. 
You 
Nothing planned, what's going on? 
You laid your head against the couch pillow and felt as Beans stretched his paws against you, you smiled in content at the small animal. Your phone vibrated again. 
Jake Kiszka 
I could use your help cleaning out and re packing my cases for tour in a few weeks. We always make it into a party too with food and drinks and music too so I promise I won't work you too hard :) 
You caught yourself smiling a bit. Even though this was going to be work related, the thought of seeing Jake again made your stomach fill with butterflies. Fuck no, stop smiling like that..this isnt right this is your boss for crying out loud…
Yet, you couldn't deny it anymore. You were so clearly lying to yourself.
You were crushing on Jake Kiszka whether you wanted to or not. You couldn't deny how your heart felt at the thought of him and to your demise, you couldn't help but think about him constantly since you ended the first part of the tour. Especially, it seems, at certain moments late at night when your vibrator had fully charged.
Okay, whatever, you were “down bad” according to Addison. You felt ashamed for feeling this way towards your boss but as long as you kept yourself professional around Jake what was the harm in a little crush..right?
****
August 21st
GVF, LLC OFFICE.
Nashville, TN.
You swore you didn't pick out this outfit because you were seeing Jake today. No definitely not the flowy powder blue sundress that was hanging in your closet begging to be worn. You had simply forgotten about it being in there and today was so hot, it was perfect weather for a dress, yeah. 
You swiped on a little bit of your favorite lip gloss and fluffed your hair when you caught eyes with your roommate in the reflection of the mirror and yelped. “What the hell is a matter with your Addison?! Don't you know how to knock?” You clenched your heart over your heaving chest trying your best to calm your erratic heart. 
Addison wore a proud smirk as she leaned against the door frame, steaming cup of coffee in hand. “Who are you getting all dolled up for? Is it your sweet Jaaake?” 
“Mind your business” You turned towards your reflection one more time. One last look to make sure everything was in place. “Don't you have something to do today? Somewhere to be?” 
Addison was barricading you in the bathroom. “Nope. Cmon, just admit that you have a crush on him already and I'll leave you be!” 
You pushed past her not wanting to acknowledge the feelings growing in your heart and naturally, she followed you as you walked into your room to grab your purse to head out the door. “Keep denying it to yourself and it'll get worse.” 
“Yeah well, there's nothing there to begin with, so I don't know what to tell you.” You slipped your favorite comfy shoes on near the front door of the apartment. 
“Mhm, suuure.” 
At that, you walked out of the door with a dramatic eye roll. 
***
The Kiszkas sure knew how to throw a party it seemed. 
What had started off as an innocent afternoon unpacking and repacking crates and boxes while listening to music, quickly turned into what Jake deemed “a shit fest” as soon as Sam had located a bottle of tequila hidden in one of his crates. 
“Woah!” He had announced to the room, waving the bottle around like a prize. “Lookie what I have here. Who wants shots?!” 
Rose stopped packing the box of Tide To-Go sticks in Josh's case. “Sam, were not even finished yet!” 
“Why should that stop us? We just struck gold!” 
You and Jake made eye contact as you were standing near his dolly box and you both smirked at one another. “Let's go Sammy boy!” He turned and yelled across the room. 
“Yes! Jakes in! Now who else?” 
One shot turned into, well, several in a short matter of time. You realize the energy had shifted from work to party mode once the music in the room had picked up in volume. To Rose's dismay, the tasks at hand had been long abandoned and swapped in for everyone mingling with each other. The glow of the afternoon sun had settled into darker hues of pink and orange as the sun began to set on the city of Nashville and you had a nice little buzz flowing through your veins. You felt yourself actually relax and let loose and have fun for once, without worrying about being too professional. You were growing quite comfortable around here. Around your little tour family.
You had been perched up against the pool table across the room watching the shenanigans of Jake and Sam fighting each other with plastic swords dramatically. Josh had taken it upon himself to be the ref and Jake had been on and off yelling about how Josh was terrible at his job. You smiled in content as you watched others scattered around the room, watching the childish display or talking amongst themselves. 
“What are you smirking at?” Danny approached you. 
“Oh, nothing, just uh, feeling happy for the first time in a little while. Grateful I'm here.” 
“We're very grateful to have you. Jakes is very grateful, I know.” Danny shot you a small wink over the rim of his cup. Oh?
You were in the middle of talking with Danny about one of your favorite albums to listen to on your self dictated “Vinyl Sundays'  in your apartment when you felt a nudge on your shoulder and heard a soft ‘hey’ in your ear. You turned around and were met with Jake, sunglasses on now of course even though the sun had just fully set and a playful smirk resting on his face. A hint of a British accent grazed past his lips when he spoke. “Cmere, wanna show you something.” 
Your heart skipped a beat, did you mess something up? No, you couldn't have, not with his body language. You smiled softly at Danny. “Excuse me, it seems my attention is needed elsewhere.” 
“Not a problem Y/N, it's been nice getting to know you. You'll have to bring me that vinyl so I can listen to it before the tour starts up again.” He smiled softly back at you. 
“I will make sure that I do!” 
You followed Jake through the hallways of their management office, both of you silent for a beat before Jake threw a smile over his shoulder at you. 
“What were you and Danny talking about?” 
“He was asking me about my vinyl collection actually.” You said proudly.
“Vinyl collection huh? Anything good?” He tipped his sunglasses down to throw you a quizzical look. 
“Quite a bit actually,” You nodded. “Between my parents collection and my own I would say I have a couple hundred lying around. I try to listen to a new album every Sunday even if it's an album I know or have listened to on a streaming service.” 
“Couple hundred?” You couldn't see it now that Jake's sunglasses found their rightful place once more on his nose, but his eyes practically bugged out of his head. You had caught him off guard and you didn't even know it.  “Thats, that's quite impressive actually.” 
You sighed, “I take pride in my collection but I really owe it to both of my parents, mostly my father, for having quite the exquisite rock and roll and folk collection.” 
Jake hummed and flashed you a gut wrenching smile. “I might have to come and listen with you sometime.” 
“I'd like that Jake.” 
“Which one were you talking to Danny about?” You turned yet another corner in what seemed to be a maze of hallways. 
“Oh, I was just going through another box in my parents basement the other day and found quite the gem. Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, I Love Rock ‘N’ Roll. One of my favorite songs is on there, Crimson and Clover.” 
Jake smiled to himself, “Crimson and Clover, hmm.”
“What..” You were fully ready to defend yourself. 
“Oh nothing, seems fitting. Seems very you, you remind me of a little clover. A little good luck clover. You've made my life so much easier on tour lately; it's like you're my little good luck charm. My little Clover.” Jake's fingers played with the stubble on his chin and you felt your cheeks grow warm with blood. “Ahh, and there's the Crimson to go along with it.” 
You couldn't hide the smile any longer. The tension was so thick you felt as though you could cut through it with a dull knife. 
“Jake?” You asked softly.
He turned towards you, eyes still hiding behind his RayBans. “Yeah?” 
“Where are you taking me?” You couldn't help the infectious smile that broke across your face yet again. He was simply electric. 
Jake stopped walking and you followed suit. “Ah fuck, Im sorry, I probably should’ve asked this before I pulled you away but do you smoke?” 
“What?” You weren't sure you heard him correctly.
“You know.” He pinched his pointer finger to his thumb and raised it to his lips, eyebrows lifting simultaneously in question. 
“Oh,” Your arms crossed against your chest. “Yeah uh, sometimes. Not often though.” 
“Hmm,” He hummed and reached into the front pocket of his button down shirt. “Well, there's this secret room here that I like to hide away in sometimes and take the edge off after a meeting with the hooligans. Figured I could show you and we could, you know.” He trailed off and his head tipped down towards the ground. 
“I'm down I think,” You smiled. “It's been awhile since I smoked though so I might not smoke all that much.” 
Jake grinned at you, “Fantastic. No worries, we don't have to smoke it all. Cmon were not far.” 
You followed Jake down yet another hallway towards a solid door with a bright exit sign hanging overhead. As he pushed through the door the August humidity engulfed you for a moment but it was short lived as Jake opened another side door from the outside of the white brick building and gestured to you to enter. You were surprised as you stepped into what looked like a, possibly still used, darkroom. Red lights were shining through the room, you could see bins on tables and clotheslines hung up along the walls. At the present moment though, no photos were hung up to dry.
“Woah.” You whispered as you heard Jake close the door behind you. “Is this?”
“A darkroom? Yeah,” He smiled at you softly, his sunglasses finally coming off of his face. “We like to come here and develop the film that we capture. Well, mostly Sam and Josh but I dabble with it sometimes as well.”
“This is really cool.” You said as you walked further into the room. “Kind of disappointed that there's no film developing right now, honestly.” 
You heard the click of a lighter behind you and the sound of Jake inhaling. “Yeah, we wouldn't be able to do this though if there was.” He blew the smoke out of his mouth and you watched it engulf his face for a moment in the red light. 
Damn these red lights, you thought. Jake somehow looked even sexier than he normally did in the low red lights. He looked like he was damned to steal your soul from you, like he was put on this earth to bewitch you into falling in love with him. He smirked as he blew out another big hit. “Are you just going to keep staring at me or would you like to take a hit of this?” 
Your eyes widened with fear and you felt your face flush hot. Okay, thank god for these red lights actually… 
You reached out to take the blunt from Jake and pulled it to your lips. You took in a generous hit, not aware of how much you had actually inhaled. But your lungs made sure to point that out to you pretty quickly though as a coughing fit began to wrack through your body. 
“Woah Y/N, take a breath if you can.” Jake came up beside you and began rubbing your back, pulling the blunt from your fingers and holding it away from your body. Thankfully, you had carried a small water bottle with you and you were able to stop coughing enough to finally take a few deep breaths. You felt the instant head buzz from the high settling into your body. It wasn't alarming or anxiety inducing, you felt calm. Like your worries had no longer room in your mind. 
“There we go.” Jake said softly, his strong hand still rubbing comforting circles along your back that definitely awoke a different type of feeling low in your stomach. “Ready for another?” 
“Hell no.” You choked out a laugh and his throaty laugh followed suit. His laugh was music to your ears. How could it be possible that a damn laugh could sound sexy?
“Fair enough Y/N.” 
You watched as he lifted the blunt to his soft looking lips that were glistening even in the red light. His eyes flicked to you again as the smoke began to leave his lungs and float through the air. Your eyes snapped to the ground out of embarrassment for being caught staring at him yet again. You hated how his lips tilted up in a little smirk as he realized, as well, that he had caught you again.
Clearing your throat you broke the silence, and the tension “What kind of film do you all usually produce here?” 
Another cloud of smoke engulfed the space around you, the red lights showing that the room had a slight haze to it now. “Mostly pictures from the tour. I know Sammy boy is more into this than anything, surprisingly. He constantly carries his camera around with him.” 
You hummed and pretended like the clotheslines with hooks were suddenly the most interesting thing in the room rather than the man who was dripping with sex appeal next to you. 
“Want one last hit before it's done?” Jake asked, gesturing to the now very small blunt. 
“Uh, I'm probably okay, I'd like to avoid another cough attack if possible.” You giggled softly as you waved him off.  
“Hm,” His lips pressed into a tight line for a moment. “You ever shotgun before?” 
“What?” Your eyes widened. 
“You ever did a shotgun with someone while smoking?” He tilted his head at you. 
“I uh, don't think so no.” You fidgeted with your fingers as nervousness crept up in your throat. 
You watched as he moved a little closer to you, closing the space and making your throat constrict. “‘S pretty easy, I take a hit and then blow it in your mouth. It makes it so the smoke isn't as harsh.” 
The spicy bergamot of his cologne rolling off of his skin began engulfing your senses and coaxing you into yet another intoxicating cloud of lust that was Jake. Now, of course, this sense was heightened with your current state of mind. 
“Wanna try?” He whispered as he moved even closer to you again. You watched as he stepped in front of you so you two were facing each other head on now.
You slowly nodded your head in fear that your voice would fail you if you tried to speak. You bit your lip in anticipation of what was going to happen next. Jake sucked in a soft breath between his lips and brought his hand up to your chin.
 “Don't do that,” He whispered. “Drives me crazy when you do.”
Your lips parted slightly as his calloused thumb swiped along your mouth, that very thumb catching the fullness of your bottom lip for just a moment as you released it from your teeth before he pulled away. 
Your mouth was undeniably dry as he smiled down at you and you felt the buttons of his shirt graze softly against your skin. The heat coming off of his body was noticeable and by God did you suddenly wish he would just press himself fully against you. 
“Okay, s’easy. Trust me yeah?” He brushed your hair away from one side of your face and your heart leapt out of your chest. You didn't have time to fully comprehend what was happening as you watched him bring the blunt to those perfectly soft looking lips and inhale a deep cloud of smoke. What happened next was simultaneously going too slow and too fast all at once. Your brain struggled to keep up with what was happening as his fingertips dipped into your hair and pulled you closer to him by the back of your neck. Holy shit.  
You finally felt Jake's body meld with yours as best it could, the feeling of being pressed between the man you desired most and a shitty little table was instantly the most intoxicating feeling you had experienced in a long time. You didn't feel like you could have prepared yourself for the set of events that unfolded shortly after. 
You felt that same thumb from earlier brush softly at the bottom of your ear as he tipped your head up towards him slightly. You wanted to close your eyes but your couldn't bring yourself to find the strength to do so. You watched as he leaned in and gasped softly as you felt his lip softly against yours. Your heart sank to your stomach at the feeling of finally being close to him in ways you only had wished for the last few weeks. You suddenly remembered what got you into this position in the first place as you felt Jakes nose nudge softly against yours. Your mouth parted slightly to accept the smoke tucked away in his lungs currently.At your acknowledgement that you were ready to accept what he was giving to you, you felt Jakes lips press a little harder against yours and you felt the hot smoke flood your mouth. You inhaled as best as you could but you also were frozen in place.
Instead of pulling away immediately as you exhaled the smoke from your own lungs, Jake took a chance and softly closed his lips against yours to which you softly reciprocated as well. This kiss was cautionary and you confirmed how both of you felt in the moment as Jake pulled slightly away, hand still tucked in your hair. You couldn't read his facial expression all too well but his eyes had a determined look. 
You made the first move to fully kiss him at this point. You tipped your head up and pressed a more determined kiss to his lips. Jake welcomed the kiss. His lips engulfing your own in a soft, pillowy dream of lust. You felt goosebumps spread across your body as you melted further into him, wrapping your arms around the back of his head and you pulled him impossibly closer to you. As your mouths moved back and forth a little less cautiously at this point you made a mental note for yourself how Jake's bottom lip was most prominent in the kiss. His mouth was warm, and so soft but rough against your own as the sexual tension built up in the room. You felt his hands rubbing down the sides of your body and settling on your hips giving them a soft squeeze as you two deepened the kiss further and your tongues touched for the first time. 
Inhibitions clearly out the window, you felt him lift you up onto the table behind you without breaking the heated make out that was now happening. As his tongue dipped further against yours, you couldn't help but moan softly. He seemed to appreciate your reaction as he squeezed your hips tighter and dragged you closer to the edge of the table, your clothed core making slight contact with the buckle of his belt. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing mattered other than Jake and how he felt. Your fingers found their way into his soft hair and you pulled slightly releasing a moan he had been hiding away from you. It didn't feel like enough. More. You needed more….
The shrill sound of an iPhone ringtone broke through the silence in the room making you both jump. 
“Dammit Josh,” Jake swore as he looked at the screen of his phone and lifted it up to his ear. “What!” His body was still pressed up against yours and his fingertips were dragging along the exposed skin on your hip. From this position you were in, he looked fucked out and by God he looked delicious. 
“I just ran out to my car to grab something dude,” Jake spoke angrily into his phone and rolled his eyes. “No im not in the fuckin, whatever man. Im coming back now anyways chill the fuck out.” 
You heard the three beeps of a call ending and Jake sighed and glanced at you, “Sorry Clover” 
His fingers grazed across your cheekbone. “Here, let me help you down.” 
You felt his hands squeeze your hips again and you felt like you were out of breath. The weight of what happened between you and Jake now settling slowly into your consciousness. Before you could think much further, his fingertips tipped your chin up and he softly pressed his lips to yours one more time. As he pulled away he smiled softly at you and you couldn't help but reciprocate. 
He was like a drug, and now that you've had a taste, you weren't sure you were going to be able to give it up. You pressed your fingertips softly to your tingling lips to hide your smile as Jake walked his way out the door, turning around to blow a kiss to you and wave his fingers. His sunglasses take their natural place sitting on his perfect nose once again. You followed shortly thereafter and giggled as you watched the remnants of the smoke pour out the door. 
“Cmon darlin,” Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “Let's go have ourselves a party, yeah?”
You smiled and wrapped an arm around Jake's torso, “Lets!” You'll deal with whatever just happened tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow is good.
Remember that harmless little crush you thought wouldn't get in the way of anything?
Yeah, well you might've been wrong but you definitely won't be telling anyone about it.
****
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taglist: @brujamagik @anythingforjtk @jakesguitarsolo @do-it-jakey-baby @vanfleeter @violetstarcatcher @myownparadise96@ignite-my-fire @nina-23-45
A/N: If you would like to be added to the taglist let me know :)
159 notes · View notes
fredwkong · 9 months
Text
Virgo Season: Adam
Pastor Adam Blanco stormed through the Astra Hotel to the front desk. It had been a long, disappointing month, but it was nearly over. Every single person attending his exclusive conference had vanished days ago. His conference hall had been taken over by degenerate freaks, so he couldn’t even hold his events. The whole hotel seemed to be full of the kind of man Adam preached against every day of his life.
All of this had started with his son’s disappearance. Shane had been such a good, sweet, obedient Christian boy. Adam should have known the instant Shane had vanished that some evil work was being done in Florida.
Adam was here to complain to the staff before he packed his bags and checked out. The concierge had heard from him almost every day since Shane’s disappearance, first about liaising with law enforcement and then, increasingly, about the encroaching freaks squatting in the halls and rooms of the hotel.
But today, instead of the meek, cowed front desk staff, Adam found more of the freaks. Behind a seemingly empty desk, there was a mass of scantily clad men on the carpet. Some were in spandex, others in rubber, and one seemed to be wearing a rubber pup mask. A thickset Black man in a half-zipped spandex bodysuit looked up from the ass he was eating to see Adam. “Mmm, be with you in a moment, Mr. Blanco,” he gasped, and then dove back into the tangle of limbs and muscles.
Vibrating with fury at the disgusting display, Adam turned and stormed away, back to the elevator. As he marched through the halls, he dodged knots of undressed degenerates engaged in displays of wanton lust. The conference hall doors were closed, but he could hear a chorus of moans within. Adam marched into the first empty elevator and slammed the button for his floor.
He would pack and he would go home. There was work to be done with his own flock, left to the assistant pastor for a whole month. Refocussing on the future helped Adam to calm down, and he was almost breathing normally as he used the keycard to open his room.
“Hey Daddy,” said a deep, slightly smokey voice as Adam opened the door to his room. The smell of cigarette smoke washed over Adam as he stepped in and saw a young Hispanic-looking man lounging against the opposite wall. He was muscular, shirtless, with short, curly hair and light, arresting eyes as he met Adam’s apoplectic gaze. There was something familiar about those eyes, even though the handsome, manly face around them was like nobody Adam had ever seen.
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“Awww, Daddy, you don’t recognise me?” the man asked, stubbing out his cigarette on the sole of his sneaker. “Guess you really weren’t paying attention when I broke my arm in second grade.”
“Shane?” Adam grunted. He let the door swing shut behind him. This strange Latino looked almost nothing like his son, but after a month in the Astra Hotel Adam was willing to believe in the supernatural.
“You got it, Daddy!” Shane said, pushing himself to his feet. From having been a head shorter than Adam, they were suddenly standing eye to eye across the room. “You never told me how much fun these conferences were.”
“What did they do to you?” Adam gritted out. “Where is my son?”
Shane laughed. “I’m right here.” He smiled. “You know, I spent years certain that you already knew I was gay, but you had no idea, did you? You thought I was the perfect young Republican. I was scared for nothing.”
“No.” Adam was shaking, he wasn’t sure whether with rage or fear. “I have a good, normal son who obeys his father, not a fucking degenerate freak.” He turned to leave. However this stranger had gotten into his room, he didn’t need anything from his luggage. He would drive to the airport early.
“Stop,” said Shane. He didn’t speak loudly, simply with complete authority.
Adam froze.
“I was going to let the magic take you and set you free,” said Shane. With his eyes locked on the door, Adam couldn’t see him, but felt Shane walk up behind him. “All those sad, angry little men you gathered are so happy now that they get to be their freaky, unrestrained selves, Daddy. They’re so much more fun now that they don’t care what anyone else says they should be.
“You could have had that.” Shane stepped around into Adam’s field of vision. “I wanted to watch you become a happy, horny faggot who didn’t remember being Pastor Adam Blanco.” Shane reached out and grabbed Adam’s shoulder. Adam felt a jolt, and then he was walking backwards under Shane’s direction, still unable to speak or react.
Shane left Adam standing erect in the middle of the room, while he lay down on the bed. “The magic’s almost gone, you know,” Shane said, kicking off his sneakers and flexing his feet as he lounged. “Late tonight, the sun will exit Virgo and my wish will be spent. I think I deserve to have some extra fun with my dear old Dad, since we haven’t seen each other all month. Don’t you agree?”
Adam stood frozen. Inside, he was screaming, raging. He would probably be frothing at the mouth if he could move. He felt a vein in his temple throb to life as Shane smiled up at him.
“I think the magic agrees with me. You’re going to do exactly as I say tonight, aren’t you, Daddy? Completely obedient to your horny gay son?”
Against his will, Adam felt his neck muscles shift, and he nodded mechanically.
“Oh, that’s not gonna do at all,” Shane crooned. “Some guys are into the robot shit, but I like a willing partner. Daddy, be excited to be my obedient toy.”
Adam felt a moment of utter panic, but then it was all washed away in an excited thrill. Based on everything he knew and believed, Adam knew that he should be horrified by the thought of his body and mind being under Shane’s control. However, instead of any fear, all that he felt was excitement at what the evening had in store. In response to Shane’s slow, wicked smile, Adam found himself grinning back at his son.
“Feeling good, Daddy?” Shane asked.
“Yeah,” Adam replied, his voice a little giddy with his excitement. “I just wish you would stop calling me Daddy, son. It sounds dirty when you say it like that.”
“You’d rather not be my Daddy?” Shane raised his eyebrows. “I could make you love it when I called you that, Daddy.”
Adam shuddered with excitement at the idea.
“But no, I like the idea of you not being a Daddy, too. Let’s take away all that gross, stressful authority. Be a hot young gear slut.”
In an instant, Adam’s suit vanished, and he was left gasping in the cold air of the hotel room as his body shrank. Grey body hair contracted into his skin, which tightened up around hard, slender muscles. Adam’s hair turned into a puff of tight blond curls as his face slimmed down. Looking down at himself with a habitual smirk, Adam watched a tight pair of leggings wrap around his shredded young legs. Leather straps wrapped around his pecs and arms.
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Inside the pouch of his leggings, Adam felt his cock start to leak precum. Shane had said to be a slut, so Adam’s body went into sexual overdrive. He felt a hunger deep in his throat and his asshole, and started uncontrollably kneading his groin.
“Yeah, you’re not a Daddy anymore,” Shane said, as Adam started to moan, his knees buckling. “Dan would probably love you right now. Want to be addicted to cum, Adam?”
The sound of his son calling him by his first name in that smokey, rough voice made Adam moan even louder, collapsing onto the floor. “Anything you want,” Adam gasped, rolling around on the floor as his whole body lit up with pleasure from the feeling of the carpet.
“Tell me how you really feel, under what I’ve commanded you to feel.”
“Sick, you perverted freak,” Adam rasped, still rolling on the floor and rubbing his bulge. “I hate that I can’t wring your fucking neck or knock some sense into you. I’m disgusted by what you’re forcing my body to do.”
Shane leaned over the edge of the bed, watching Adam start to buck, desperate to feel some sensation in his hungry hole. He smiled coldly. “You’re disgusted? By such a cute body, too!” his voice was all false concern. “You know what, you’re right, you need to get to know how much you can love being grossed out. Be a musk-obsessed pup.”
Adam’s eyes rolled back in his head as his body bulked up a bit with muscle, tanning a few shades darker. A pup mask covered his handsome face, and a cute thong with a fluffy tail replaced his leggings, baring his thick ass and bulky legs. Adam suddenly felt overwhelmingly warm, and sticky sweat stood out on his bare skin, filling the room with a rich, masculine scent. Adam found that he couldn’t stop breathing it in, and shoved the face of his pup mask into his armpit to sniff himself better.
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“It’s so hot to watch you be such an obedient slut, Adam,” Shane said. Adam glanced up to see that Shane had pulled his thick Latino cock out of his sweatpants and was gently masturbating. Adam wondered what Shane’s cock and balls smelled like. “You always were a showoff in front of a crowd. Did you always want to be exposed like this? Let loose all that repressed desire?”
Adam felt an answer bloom in his mind, but refused to say it. He was too busy trying to get a sniff of his own ass, anyway.
“Answer me,” Shane commanded.
The words tumbled out of Adam’s mouth. “Yes, I always wanted to let myself go. I love the attention of a crowd. I want eyes to be on me, no matter what I’m doing to draw them.”
“Good boy,” Shane said. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Fingerfuck yourself.”
Adam immediately jammed a finger into his tight hole. It spasmed, and Adam groaned at the intense sensation as he penetrated himself. He started to shove his finger in and out of his hole, his eyes rolling as he prodded his prostate.
“I’m getting an idea of what to do with you, but first I want to see you as a real exhibitionist. Be a showoff bear.”
Adam continued to fingerfuck himself as his ass swelled up with thick muscle and fat. Thick, sweaty black hair burst out all over his thickening body. His thong vanished, and the pup mask was replaced with a sequined cowboy hat.
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Just like every moment of his life, Adam felt an intense desire to show off, but now he found himself moaning theatrically as he continued to pleasure his own ass. He angled himself to make sure Shane could see as he inserted a second finger into his hole, and started to jiggle his ass to put on a better show.
“Sniff those hairy armpits.”
Adam drove his nose into his pit again, taking in the musky stench of his sweat-soaked bear body. He huffed it loudly, to make sure that Shane knew what he was doing. It was important to make sure that he kept Shane’s attention on him.
“Plug your hole.”
Adam pulled his fingers out of his hole, and found that he was holding a butt plug in his palm. Without hesitation, he aimed it at his hole and started to carefully insert it, angled so that Shane could watch the plug vanish between his pert asscheeks.
“Tell me how you really feel about this.”
“Ashamed,” Adam gasped, as the plug bottomed out inside him. “I want this to stop, but my body feels good in a way it never has before. I hate how curious I am about what you’re going to do to me next.”
“That’s certainly an improvement.” Shane rose from the bed and let his pants drop, leaving him naked. “Let’s finish you off, then. Stand up.”
Adam stood, clenching to keep the plug inside him. He didn’t know whether to feel ashamed or proud of the way his cock jutted out under his ample bear belly.
“Match my description,” Shane commanded, standing in front of Adam.
“Darker skin.” Adam’s skin darkened in unison across his body, going from tan to rich brown in seconds.
“Muscle boy build.” Adam’s belly contracted, and the mass redistributed to his chest, shoulders, and arms. For an instant, he was top-heavy, and then his quads grew to match, giving him a tapered X-shaped build with a slim waist.
“Neat manscaping.” All the hair across Adam’s body contracted to a buzzed pelt. He had a respectable bush of pubes and underarm hair, but it was all well trimmed. His dark beard squared off neatly against his cheekbones as his hair became a neat, curly style.
“Handsomer.” Adam felt the bones and cartilage in his face snap and reshape, creating a handsome, manly profile. He had perfect kissable lips and an intense gaze, the perfect compliment to his beautiful body.
“Wearing nothing but spandex.” A spandex bodysuit suddenly zipped up over Adam’s body. It was slightly sheer, showing off his cut muscles and his hard, leaking cock. Adam was sure that the base of his butt plug would be visible right through the pink fabric.
With a wave of his hand, Shane held a pair of shades that he slipped on Adam’s face. “Now you’re ready for the runway,” Shane told him, pinching his ass through the spandex. “Enjoy the spandex on your skin. Show me how much you love wearing stretch fabric on those big Black muscles, Adam.”
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With a gasp, Adam ran his new, callused hands over the sheer, silky fabric all over his body. The touch felt electric. He rubbed his cock, enjoying how obvious it was right through the spandex, how each drop of precum fell onto the carpet as he rubbed himself. He touched the zipper, imagining the feeling of it unzipping, letting his muscles free.
“There, no one will ever be able to take their eyes off of you again, Adam,” Shane said, raking his eyes over Adam’s body in a way that got Adam moaning. He wanted more people to stare at him. He couldn’t wait to show off this body in public and have people stare in disgust and awe.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Shane snapped his fingers. “Be a proud gay man, but don’t forget who you were before.”
Adam blinked. He looked over Shane again, and felt desire for Shane’s sexy Latino body for the first time. Adam needed to fuck and get fucked. He thought back over the last month, all the kinky men he’d seen having sex, and felt a need to reenact every single act he’d witnessed, preferably with a different man each time.
The voice of Adam Blanco, whose opinion Shane had asked a couple of times, slipped into the back of Adam’s mind. He remembered being an older, homophobic pastor, but the ideology slipped away from him. It didn’t make sense to be so uptight and self-absorbed when he could be having as much gay sex as possible.
Shane smiled at Adam’s hungry gaze. “Go on,” he said, “go find the others.”
Adam hurried out of the room.
Shane followed at a slower pace, still naked, and went down by the stairs instead of the elevator. He’d learned the Astra well over the last month, navigating the warren of hallways and stairwells to monitor the results of his wish.
At the door to the basement storage room, Shane paused, listening to the orgy going on in the conference hall. It was already past midnight, but the party would keep going for a few hours yet. Everyone was leaving tomorrow. They would live their new lives until they came back here for Virgo Season next year.
Shane slipped through the door.
The magical cornerstone was flickering with orange light as the magic began to slip away. Shane watched it for a while, smoking a cigarette while he waited. At 2:45 AM, he started to stroke his cock, imagining what was happening upstairs.
Hundreds of men were in the conference hall tonight, all in their best gear and all fucking as hard as they could. Rod the sneakerhead drone was probably taking as many cocks as he could as hard as they could pound him. Dan, the Black leatherman with addictive cum, would be letting all his cum-addicted sluts worship him while he inducted someone new to his harem. Ezzy the pup would be dressed down in a slutty pup outfit, sniffing some anonymous pits or sucking a fat cock.
Ben and Kyle had danced earlier tonight, but now they were fucking, probably still on stage. Both of them loved to show off how acrobatic they could be mid-fuck. Jason the bondage slut was bound and blindfolded, just like he always was in the Astra. He loved being a set of holes and a thick trucker body for other people to use. Harold and his rubber kinkster friends were all in a pile of slick, sweaty rubber.
Blaine and Spence, the leather husbands, were tag-teaming some boys, maybe the bellhops who had been converted into twinky bois the other night. Vinny might be on the receiving end of a similar group, though he probably preferred bigger, muskier guys to hold him down and fuck his pretty holes.
And Adam… Adam was definitely in the centre of it all. He was right up on the stage, shoving his big Black cock in a hole or taking cock in his holes, and loving every second. All the attention, all the eyes on a lewd slut, would get Adam harder than any fuck ever could.
Shane could see it all so clearly in his mind’s eye. He leaned in close to the cornerstone. “Bring it back next year,” he whispered to the stone. “Take all this energy, all the power we’ve spilled for you this month. It’s all an offering. Make this happen again next year. Make it even bigger, more extreme, hotter, hornier…”
At exactly 2:49 AM, as the Sun exited Virgo and the last of the magic was expended, Shane came. Up in the conference hall, every man felt himself suddenly spill over the edge, cumming as if they all hadn’t cum in weeks. Cum jetted up toned abs and fat bellies, spurted out of assholes and mouths, and ran in trickles down legs, arms, necks, to pool on the floor, where it slowly vanished, absorbed by the Virgo artifact.
Shane watched the cornerstone pulse with power, then fade as if going to sleep. He would come back next year, to see what would happen when it awoke once more.
X
Click here to see all of Virgo Season.
Thank you all for enjoying Virgo Season! Every message and comment I've received about it has been awesome. This was a very rewarding series to write, and I hope that everyone got at least a few chapters they loved.
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rakurairagnarok · 1 year
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Corporate Diversity
This is a commission for @bremenmask . I hope you enjoy it buddy. It has been a blast working with you.
Thomas was fuming. He had just gotten out of a call with HR, in which they talked about the position of CEO that had just opened up. They had to regretfully inform him the position would be filled by a transfer from the Turkish branch. They had made clear he would be moving up however. The new CEO had made clear he wanted Thomas to be his personal assistant and right hand man. Thomas didn't refuse this, the paycheck would be almost double his current one, but he was in no way happy about being bossed around by one of those filthy Arab brutes. He had worked his ass off for 35 years for God sakes! The new boss would be arriving tomorrow, and HR had asked Thomas to pick the man up from the airport and give him a warm welcome into the office.
"I have to work under that monkey from now on." Thomas exclaimed to his colleagues. "I can't believe I haven't been given the position."
His colleagues just nodded and let him rant. It wasn't anything new. Old man Thomas, the racist, the white supremacist. Most of them had already heard the new CEO was being considered to be a transfer from Türkiye. HR had sent them some feedback reports on what they would think of this.While most were very optimistic about this change, seeing as the department was in dire need of some diversity, they had also, anonymously ofcourse, let HR know that Thomas would be very much against this, seeing his racist demeanor. HR had taken this into consideration and told Mr. Hamad Abdul in advance. Knowing this he was still adamant to take the job and even wanted to make sure Thomas would become his closest employee, his personal assistant.
Why? HR didn't know, neither did the employees, and neither did Thomas, who was now angrily driving towards the airport. It was a hot summer day, so he was blasting the AC. He arrived at the airport, and almost immediately spotted his new boss. The man was a towering giant of a man. His tailor-made suit was almost painted onto his strong physique. A well trimmed beard adorned his strong square jaw. Thomas gulped. He stopped the car in front of the man, and rolled down the window.
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"Hey Hamad, get in." Thomas almost snarled, but he managed to keep himself calm.
Mr Abdul raised an eyebrow as he leaned down. "I sincerely hope this is not the way you treat your boss Thomas?" His voice was rough, and almost completely without an accent. Thomas started to sweat.
"Sir, or Mr. Abdul, that is how you will address me, Thomas." He put an obvious emphasis of displeasure on Thomas' name.
"Y-yes sir" Thomas stammered. He didn't know why, but he had lost all fighting spirit once the man outside the car spoke to him.
"Now, you will open this door for me, and put my luggage in the trunk." Mr Abdul demanded.
"Yes sir." Thomas replied. He quickly got out of the car and opened the door for his boss. After the man got in he quickly closed the door and carried the two large trunks to the back and loaded them into his car. He swiftly got back into his seat and started to drive off.
Thomas didn't dare speak. For some unknown reason, he felt beneath the large Turkish man. Sweat was dripping from his forehead, so he turned the AC up a notch. However after doing so Mr. Abdul spoke.
"Turn that off Thomas. It is far too chilly in this country. "
"Y-yes sir…" Thomas reluctantly turned off the AC, and within minutes the car turned into a blistering sauna.
"Ah, that is better." Mr Abdul sighed in relief. Thomas looked in his rearview mirror and saw his boss unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt. His large, hairy chest was already glistening with sweat.
At the same time a warm funk started to spread throughout the car. Thomas grimaced. He wasn't an idiot so he knew what the source of the smell was, but he also knew he couldn't ask Mr. Abdul to please let him open a window.
"Anything wrong Thomas?" Thomas turned his eyes back to the road. "N-no sir."
"Good, I was almost afraid you were against my smell." Thomas looked back into his mirror and saw Mr. Abdul stare right at him.
"N-no sir… it's a sign of a real man … right?" Thomas stammered.
"What is?" Mr Abdul asked with a sly smirk on his lips.
"The… the smell sir… and the sweating."
"I suppose you are right Thomas. A real man can't help but smell."
Thomas nodded as he turned his eyes back to the road.
Slowly, Thomas' own Body odor started to fade away, the overwhelming smell of Mr. Abdul filling the confines of the car.
They arrived at the office and Thomas quickly got out, opening the door for Mr. Abdul.
"Good boy." Mr. Abdul said. A shudder went through Thomas's body.
"Thank you sir!" Thomas gleefully replied. He turned red after he had said it. He swiftly turned around and led his boss into the building. After a quick tour, Mr. Abdul nodded and said, "Alright boy, let's get to work."
"Y-yes sir" Thomas hated how he turned into a blubbering mess talking to this brick wall of a guy.
Thomas took place at his desk just outside the office and got to work. Mr. Abdul frowned as he walked into his new office and closed the door behind him.
Thomas groaned as soon as the door closed.
"Motherfucker thinks he owns the place, well, I'll let him know."
_________________________________________
The next day Thomas arrived at work, 15 minutes early as he always did. He walked into the office, only to notice his desk was missing, only an out of place emptiness remaining.
"What the fuck! Where the hell is my desk?" He looked around for his stuff, but only saw his colleagues shrug and shake their heads.
The door to Mr. Abduls office opened and the new boss was standing in the doorway.
"Looking for something? Tommy ?" He said with a playful undertone.
"Where the fuck is my desk?!"
"What was that?" Mr Abdul raised an eyebrow and stared deep into Thomas's eyes.
"M-my desk… where… I…" Thomas stammered.
Mr. Abduls eyebrow went higher.
Thomas took a deep breath. "Might you know where my desk is, sir?"
Mr. Abdul smiled.
"Of course, it's right here." He stepped aside and showed Thomas's desk, neatly fitted into the office.
"I want my assistant to be able to quickly deal with any and all requests. Having a door in between us would just hinder that right?" A devilish grin spread over his squared face.
Thomas' heart sank. He would be under constant supervision, not to mention near this asshole, the entirety of his work day.
"Come, let's get to work" Mr. Abdul motionedThomas to get into his office.
Thomas slowly made his way over, briefly looking over his shoulder, only to see his co-workers snicker at his flushed visage.
Mr. Abdul closed the door behind them and got behind his desk.
"You will answer the phone quickly, and deal with it quietly.I don't want any drawn out calls. Anything I ask of you, you will do to the best of your abilities, which I hope are up to standard."
Thomas nodded and booted up his computer.
"I'll let you know if I need anything." Mr Abdul started to type away.
Thomas opened his email and began replying. He had already gotten a massive amount of emails of executives and companies asking to meet with the new CEO. He painstakingly got to work.
After about half an hour he noticed he had started to sweat. He looked over at Mr. Abdul and was about to ask if he could maybe turn the AC on, but before he could utter a single word, Mr. Abdul said, "If I need you I will call on you, otherwise I like to work in silence."
Thomas nodded, his shirt slowly getting drenched as the minutes ticked away.
After a while he picked up a familiar scent. It was Mr. Abduls musk. Thomas deeply inhaled, and quickly got back to work.
At the other side of the room, Mr. Abdul smirked.
_________________________________________
Thomas had been working in the musk ridden office for a few days now. The musk slowly seeming to lose its oppressive effect. He still couldn't help but be Mr. Abduls little bitch, and obeyed his every whim, but he did slip out a few harsh words to his coworkers.
On the flip side, he hadn't felt as spry and energetic as he did in ages. He got up early, he even ran a bit before going to work.
Thomas sat down next to his coworkers in the lunch room and sighed.
"That ass really keeps me running around. Can't he do anything himself?"
His colleagues just murmured a bit, knowing full well he would have made his assistant do the exact same if he had become CEO.
"I mean, I get it. If I were a sweaty pig like him I would be lazy as well right, but fucking hell get your ass up man."
The room fell dead silent.
Thomas looked at his coworkers with confusion.
"So that's what you think of me Tommy"
Mr. Abdul was standing right behind Thomas. His face was calm, but the tone of his voice was grim and serious.
"Stop fucking calling me Tommy. It's Thomas…" he turned as he said it, making eye contact and immediately the blood drained from his face. The room was so quiet that you could hear the traffic, even through the triple layered windows.
"Office, now" Mr. Abdul commanded and Thomas shot up, almost running out the lunch room.
When inside, Mr. Abdul slammed the door shut, and locked it with a key on his keychain.
Thomas was frozen in the middle of the room. Mr Abdul sat down in his chair and sighed.
"What is your problem with me Tommy?"
"I… I don't have a problem sir." Tommy stammered. He stared at the floor while Mr. Abdul was speaking.
"You have been rude and, quite frankly, downright racist since I got here. You may not show it to me, but I have heard complaints from your colleagues, and from HR from before I even got here."
Thomas had a hard time focusing on what Mr. Abdul was saying. It's not that he didn't want to, but the room was filled with this amazing and arousing smell.
"THOMAS"
Mr. Abdul shouted and Thomas looked up.
"I'm sorry sir. I'm listening, I just…" Thomas fell silent. Sitting in his chair, Mr. Abdul had unbuttoned his shirt, and his broad, bulky and hairy torso was in full view.
Thomas's mouth hung agape, a small droplet of drool seeping from the corner.
"I said, come here"
Thomas wanted to object but his legs began moving towards the desk before he could stop them. He walked around the desk, stopping just in front of his boss. The strong smell filled his nostrils, his mind going blank.
"Come sit on my lap." Mr. Abduls voice had turned calm, almost seductive even, and Thomas couldn't help but follow his command.
Mr. Abdul put his arm around him and smiled. He put one hand behind his head, the erotic scent only becoming stronger.
"Sir… I…" Thomas wanted to stand up, leave, from this disgusting scene. Instead, he found himself leaning closer and closer to the exposed pit of his boss.
A few inches before he made contact and stopped, his eyes drifting upward, looking Mr. Abdul in the eyes. He only nodded.
This sent Thomas over the edge. He buried his face into Mr. Abduls pit sniffing up the fresh musk, lapping up any drops of sweat he could find. Inside his head he was screaming. How humiliating, how degrading, how…
"You're such a good boy aren't you" Thomas's mind cleared. The turmoil and rage fell silent. Instead his head filled with a feeling of fulfillment and bliss.
"I think you're finally ready. I haven't been satisfied with your performance, but perhaps that will change." Mr. Abdul smiled as he pressed Thomas's head back into his pit.
"Now, take a deep breath boy. And keep it in there for a while." Tommy did just that. He inhaled deeply and held his breath.
The musk immediately started to have an effect on his body. Slowly, his skin started to even out. Any blemish or wrinkle got ironed out, making him appear years younger.
"Now keep it up oglan, deep breaths"
Tommy took another deep breath. He began to squirm a little, his buttoned shirt getting quite tight all of a sudden. His slouched shoulders straightened up, getting broader each second. Before long his shirt was almost skin-tight on his body. Mr Abdul grinned and Tommy took another breath. His shirt exploded. His broad shoulders rounded out with pounds of muscle. His arms quickly followed. His biceps and triceps pulsed, and grew. They were almost as big as his head!
After taking another deep breath his flabby stomach began to tighten. Layers of fat started to melt and move around his body. His arms got even bigger with a small added layer of fat, while his stomach became home to rows of tight, abs. Mr Abdul's hand slid down Tommy's back, down to his glutes, which were in the process of expanding themselves. The previously unimpressive, fat filled office worker ass, became a beautifully sculpted bubble but. Mr Abdul sank his hands in them, and Tommy let out a soft moan.
"That's it oglan. How do you like my pit."
"It… it's so good... sir…"
"You don't have to call me sir when we're alone, oglan."
"Y-yes… Daddy"
Mr. Abdul smirked.
"Now let's give you something new." Tommy pulled his head out of the pit and looked at Mr. Abdul, his face had lost a few years, and his eyes were vacant, no thought behind them.
Mr Abdul took off his shoes, and slowly pushed Tommy down. The smell emanating from his big feet was intense. His pits had been ripe, but now completely paled in comparison. Tommy eagerly went along and took a whiff of his bosses feet. After taking a few deep breaths, a strong itch spread across his smooth chest. While absentmindedly scratching it he felt thick hairs brushing up against his fingers. Mr. Abul grinned as he watched the forest of hair spread. He took his other foot and rubbed it against the soft carpet of hair, leaving behind a permanent mark of musk. Tommy took the sock of one of Mr. Abdul's feet and began licking and sucking on his toes. With each lick, his pecs began to swell. His fat old man moobs quickly started to look and feel like strong masculine pecs, every aggressive lick made them sway and jiggle. A quick pinch of his nipples send him into a moaning fit, revealing their sensitivity.
Tommy grabbed the other foot, and deeply inhaled. His legs quickly expanded, blasting the dress pants to bits. Quads that could crush a watermelon rested on top of thick calves. His feet burst out of the expensive shoes he was wearing, a domineering size 12.
"That's already so much better boy, come here." Mr. Abdul motioned Tommy to move back up, and as his boy did, he took him by the chin and pulled him up to his face, and locked lips with him. Mr. Abduls strong tongue forced his way into Tommy's mouth, beginning the final stages of the transformation.
Tommy moaned and groaned as his facial features began to change and shift. His round and putty looking face began to sharpen. His rounded jawline became strong and squared, his nose grew a bit bigger, and his lips became more plump. His eyebrows grew bushy and stern, while his eyes softened a bit. A heavy itch ran across his new jawline and a thick beard quickly grew in. Mr. Abdul ran a hand over his balding scalp and thick, black locks of hair sprouted from the once middle aged man's head.
At the same time a wave of color washed over the white man's skin. A tan fitting of an Arabian hunk, his skin glistening with sweat, shone in the sunlight coming from the large windows of the office.
With his free hand, Mr Abdul grabbed Tommy's undersized bulge, and began to massage it. Waves of pleasure ran through the hunks body, his undersized rod quickly growing in size. At the same time However it didn't quite seem to get hard. That was at least until it reached a massive 10 inches. Seems he was a shower not a grower. While his dick was growing, his balls had filled with a massive amount of cum. They had grown to the size of tangerines, and his dick was leaking into his tighty whities.
"You only cum when I tell you to, boy."
Tommy nodded.
"Are you ready to leave your old life behind, and become an Arab boy for your daddy?"
"Y-yes… yes sir please."
Mr. Abdul continued to grope Tommy´s ever growing bulge, his balls churning, growing and sagging, every aspect of his life condensing into the thick, salty solution.
“P-please… Baba… I need to cum”
Mr. Abdul grinned.
“Cum for Baba, boy.”
Tommy threw his head back as his massive rod began spewing out rope after rope of seed into his underwear. His deep moans echoing against the walls off the office. The small wet spot that had appeared due to his leaky cock quickly started to spread. Before long his whole underwear was drenched, and he was still shooting. All his memories drained from his balls into his soaking underwear, dripping alongside his leg. Mr. Abdul ran a finger across his boy's leg and swiped up a big swab of seed. He slowly took his finger in his mouth and savored the taste of his new plaything.
“You taste amazing Ayaz” He ran his hands across the sculpted back of his boy, and smiled.
Ayaz looked up, his dim eyes filling with light and energy. “Thank you Baba!” he said with a big grin.
“Now go get yourself cleaned up. I want you back here in an hour.”
“Yes sir!” Ayaz got serious again. Mr. Abdul liked that about his boys. They knew when to switch back into work mode and were very good at what they did. Mr. Abdul threw Ayaz a new suit, no underwear of course, which Ayaz quickly put on. His obscenely large bulge didn't leave much to the imagination, but then again, his whole body was basically for show in the tight suit.
________________________________________
The department was happy with the new figures the CEO was producing over the past weeks. He had been able to almost triple their profits in only a few weeks time. Mr. Abdul told HR it was due to his lovely assistant Ayaz, who had kept track of all the work and kept the clients very, very happy.
Ayaz was also very happy. He was able to live a luxurious life due to both his massive paycheck and his boss being his Daddy. He was of course a hard worker, but having almost two full incomes also definitely helps. He spends most of his time outside of work going to the gym to keep his daddy happy or participating in some… lets call it lucrative occupational activities. Again Mr. Abduls assistant keeps the clients very, very happy.
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chlorinecake · 10 months
Text
𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐬𝐚 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐭 𝟏 — a riki nishimura fanfic
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𖦹 ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: a cute and flirty airport security assistant gives you a hard time before boarding your flight
♡ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: brief language, mentions of hunger pains, flirty behaviors (duh), riki invades your privacy
𖦹 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 0.7k ~ read pt. 2, pt. 3, and pt. 4
〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰
Of course, the x-ray machine detected something foreign in your suitcase. It happens to everybody at airports, right?
Introducing the helpful airport security assistant:
Male, check.
Tall, check.
Attractive, triple check.
You always despised having your luggage inspected, but from the surface, your agent appeared easy to work with. Or at least, that’s what you thought until the young man began with a smug “Hey, you,” greeting you with his piercing dark eyes and playful smirk.
That was about five minutes ago, with the time in between consisting of his frequent coquettish remarks. By now, he had asked you a number of questions, ranging from your favorite color to your relationship status.
“I doubt your flirty behavior follows protocol. Or is this your way of making luggage checks with women more interesting?”
He eyed you through his messy bangs, still rummaging through your belongings.
“Me? Flirty behavior?” He scoffed, humored by your remark. “I can assure you that I am thoroughly incapable of such a thing, Miss?...”
“____,” you blurted out.
He then offered a hand and smiled, “Riki. Nice to meet you.”
“Hopefully never again,” you replied sarcastically, returning his handshake. Firm, you thought to yourself. This guy has confidence pumping through his veins. You couldn’t help but wonder what game he’s playing. Pleasantries aside, his behavior was wildly unprofessional, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could take his insipid remarks and annoyingly handsome face.
Ugh.
He’s turning you into one of those girls that get upset about a cute flirty stranger for no good reason.
Whatever. The sooner you got through this awkward situation, the better. You’d literally never have to deal with him again after this, so you swallowed your pride, relaxed your posture, and tried to take a few calming breaths. Inhale, exhale…inhale, exhale…inha-
“Well, well, well, what do we have here,” he smirked, cascading a sexy pair of light blue lace panties high in the air for the entire first floor of the airport to see. Heat rushed through your neck up to your cheeks, and you’d damn yourself if you knew how hot and bothered you suddenly appeared.
“Did you want me to find these? Tempt me during my shift? How about finder’s keeper’s?”
“Loser’s weepers,” you retorted, snatching the lingerie from his grasp, folding it back neatly, and placing them on the cold metal side counter.
“Aww,” he pouted mockingly. “I think she likes me! Guys!” He shouted across the room, “She’s totally whipped for me!”
All you could do was roll your eyes. His bold energy intoxicated the entire space, provoking you to act more immaturely than usual. He was certainly a mood maker.
“Are we almost done here,” you questioned, narrowing your eyes at him. Your patience had officially left the building, as you couldn’t wait any longer for this crippling interaction to end. You leaned forward, tapping your fingertips on the countertop out of frustration.
“Shh, I haven’t found your diary yet…nowww, where is it-“
“Gosh, you’re such a jerk,” you whined, smacking his hand from your suitcase and removing it from the counter. He had really pushed your buttons this time, and you’re afraid that the crowded room was the only thing holding you back from literally blowing up. Or maybe it was his pretty privilege?
He ignored your retort, and opted for a more professional personality than the one you’d been graced with before.
“Perfect! You’re all set, ma’am. Enjoy your flight, and thank you for partnering with Nishimura Airlines!” He smiled, bowing before you.
“You too- I mean, thank you? No, you’re welcome, have a good day!” You cringed at yourself. It boggled you how flustered he managed to make you feel just from that short interaction alone. Still, his switch in behavior confused you until you spotted a tall man dressed in khaki pants and a collared shirt. “Ahh, the manager,” you thought to yourself. It would’ve been lovely if he came out to your rescue 10 minutes ago, because now you’re pushing for time just to get in line for your flight.
“Damnit,” you scolded yourself, realizing that you forgot your underwear on the counter in front of Mr. “Finder’s Keeper’s.” On top of that, the rising hunger pangs in your abdomen only added to your growing frustration. All you could do now was hope that the staff would board you and the rest of the travelers quickly for the sake of your emotionally affected stomach. It’s amazing to think that all of this stress erupted thanks to…
Wait-
What was his name again?
………………………………………………………………………………….
ᴀ/ɴ 𓂋 thanks for reading! feel free to send in any content requests for future works ~ love always <3
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makeitmingi · 7 months
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Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 60]
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Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst
Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)
Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities
Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.
Word count: 4.5K
[A/N: Longer chapter to end off the series! Thank you everyone who has been patient with me and supporting me through this series.]
You took a deep breath as you stepped out of the airport. Haneul followed close, holding onto the end of your jacket as she yawned tiredly, rubbing her eye. Poor thing was half asleep, following you and trying not to sleep while walking.
*I'm home.* You smiled softly as you pushed the luggage cart through. It was 4 am in Korea so the airport was relatively empty.
"Unnie? I'm sleepy." Haneul whined.
"I know, baby. I'm sorry, let's go home and get some sleep." You chuckled. Just as you were about to get a cab, a van pulled up in front of you. You blinked in confusion until the driver came out.
"Joong?!" You yelped. Hongjoong gave you a sleepy smile as he stepped out, hugging you tightly.
"What are you doing here? It's 4 am. You should be sleeping!" You asked in shock but hugged him back nonethless.
"Ah, I can always sleep later. Of course I would be here to welcome my baby sister home. And even babier... sister?" Hongjoong chuckled, patting Haneul's head.
"Yeah, the princess is sleepy." You giggled. Hongjoong nodded and you both loaded the bags into the back. You made sure Haneul was comfortably seated in the back with the seatbelt on. Hongjoong even reclined the seat slightly for her to sleep. Then he opened the door for you to enter the passenger seat.
"I think this is the first time I've seen you drive." You chuckled.
"Really? I guess I don't have much opportunities to drive at all. Honestly, I'm surprised the manager hyungs let me take the van." He said, starting the engine.
"Well, I'm grateful you came nonetheless." You said as he pulled away from the sidewalk and drove to where your apartment was.
This new apartment was arranged close to the HYBE building, put together, prepared and arranged by the Big Hit team for your return to Korea.
The 2 year overseas stint was done and with investigations over, you could safely return with Haneul. Turns out, it was KQ CEO's own personal assistant that sent you those threats.
She caught you and Mingi once and was jealous. She thought she could get close to the boys, being the CEO's personal assistant, and possibly form a relationship with one of them. But it didn't work. She hated that you got close with them so quickly.
Once investigations were concluded, she was taken to jail. There was news article about it. But the details of the case was not made public.
"How was the flight?" Hongjoong asked, breaking your train of thought.
"Stuffy and long. It feels good to be out of there, I can finally stretch my legs properly and the air isn't so stale anymore. Plus, it feels good to be home." You let out a long exhale.
"Yeah, those kidns of flights always feel too long. Are all your stuff in the new place already?" He continued.
"Hmmm, not yet. Most of our stuff are but I had some last minute stuff to pack. They'll get shipped over in due time. But I think I have enough to unpack and keep me busy for a bit." You sighed.
"We'll help in any way that we can since we're on vacation." He told you. Ateez had finished touring and completed yet another successful comeback season. Now, they were on their well deserved vacation time.
"Alright, here we are." Hongjoong pulled up into the carpark. You turned around to see Haneul fast asleep.
"If you can help me put her on my back, I'll piggy back her up to the apartment." Hongjoong said, noticing your concern before you could even voice it.
"Really? She's not exactly a little kid anymore." You asked with uncertainty, you didn't want him injuring his back somehow.
"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have offered. Come." Hongjoong got out. You opened the door and unbuckled Haneul's seat belt. You carefully moved her onto Hongjoong's awaiting back.
"There we go." He stood up, making sure the support her bottom.
"Let's bring her up before coming to get the bags. You shouldn't be carrying all of them on your own." He said.
"Alright. I'll just take my small bag." You took your cabin bag. You tapped the access card on the lift panel to go up and put in the password on the door lock. Big Hit assured you that this apartment compelx had the best security, which was your main concern. You held the door open for Hongjoong to enter.
"This way?" He asked. You nodded, showing him Haneul's own room. Luckily, you had made sure that she had a bed upon arrival. You removed the vinyl covering and Hongjoong placed her down.
"Let's bring the bags up." You said to him. The both of you brought up all the bags in one trip.
"Just hold on a second. Let me get Haneul settled." You rushed back to Haneul's room to remove her jacket and shoes.
"Thanks again, Joong."
"Stop thanking me." Hongjoong laughed. You looked around the house, some furniture was set up as per your request. The moving boxes were neatly piled in a corner.
"I need to order some groceries to the house. Hopefully they will get here by morning." You rubbed your forehead while scrolling on your phone.
"Or we can go get some stuff in the morning." Hongjoong suggested, settling beside you on the couch. You let out a contemplative hum. You sighed and leaned against his shoulder, his hand coming up to pat your head.
"Wooyoung and Jongho would kill me when they wake up, knowing I came to pick you and Haneul without them." He chuckled.
"Ooh yeah, can't help you out of that one." You winced. Hongjoong pulled away to shoot you a glare.
"What? You know it's true. Wooyoung loves me and Haneul has Jongho wrapped around her little finger, the moment they are together, they're inseparable." You shrugged.
"I don't want to die. My vacation just started." Hongjoong groaned.
"You are more than welcome to crash here for the rest of the night." You patted his thigh.
"I may just take you up on that offer since I don't want to drive back. But what about you? Please don't tell me you're going to pull an all nighter and unpack." He raised an eyebrow.
"I'm going to shower first then unpack the necessities at least. It is going to take a while for Haneul and I to get over the time difference. Might as well use the time to be productive somehow." You stood up, going to your luggage to get the small soaps that you had packed with you. Hongjoong let out a defeated sigh.
"When do you start work?" Hongjoong asked with a yawn, turning to lay across the couch now that you were not sitting there.
"Two weeks? Need time to settle the moving stuff, Haneul's school and get over jetlag." You rubbed your eye as you sat in front of your luggage to get sleepwear out.
"Alright, I'm going to shower." You announced as you stood up. Hongjoong nodded and waved you off.
"Indi?" He called out. You turned around, blinking.
"Welcome home." He gave you a sleepy smile. You couldn't help the soft smile that formed.
"Feels good to be home, Joong. And call me (y/n)." You said softly and went into the bathroom. You were grateful Hongjoong was the first person you saw when you stepped off the plane.
Seeing Hongjoong made you feel more calm and collected, just having him around was comforting enough. Mingi didn't know you were coming home today though, you wanted to keep it a secret and surprise him later on.
When you came out, Hongjoong was fast asleep, snoring softly. You took the blanket you had in your suitcase and covered him with it.
"Now, let's unpack." You sighed softly, sitting in front of the luggages and boxes with the necessities you and Haneul would need before you could get to the other stuff.
"Luckily there's no dust." You noted, putting Haneul's clothes in her closet. You went over to her sleeping form.
"I love you." You kissed her head and slept beside her instead of your own bed.
By the time you woke up, you heard Haneul speaking to someone outside. It wasn't just Hongjoong's voice though. You poked your head out to see Haneul on Jongho's lap.
"You just can't resist her, can you?" You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. Jongho shrugged, focusing back on Haneul.
"Wooyoung hyung went to get food for all of us. Hongjoong hyung drove him. You can go back to sleep if you want, I got it covered here." Jongho informed, gesturing to Haneul busy drawing with him at the table. You nodded and yawned, waving to the two before collapsing back onto the bed.
"Indigo... Wake up..." You didn't feel like you slept long before Wooyoung was laying in bed with you, wrapping his arms around you to snuggle.
"Hi, Woo." You opened your eyes.
"Welcome home. I missed you." He smiled softly, holding your face to give you a big smooch on your cheek.
"I missed you too. All of you." You chuckled, draping your arms and legs over him just like he was your own bolster. You let out a tired sigh, eyes closing again.
"As much as I would love to cuddle, I told Hongjoong hyung I would get you up to get some food in you." Wooyoung chuckled.
"Alright, let's not get in trouble with Joong. Oh and Woo? Call me (y/n)." You pushed yourself up and got out of bed to wash up, leaving a stunned Wooyoung there. You heard him yell in the room.
"Unnie!" Haneul grinned from her spot on the couch. She jumped down and ran over to hug you.
"Hey, baby." You leaned down to hug her, patting her butt and kissing her head. She held your hand, following you to the bathroom. She stood at the door, waiting for you to brush your teeth, wash your hair and do your skincare.
"Are you tired, baby? It'll be a while for us to adjust back to Korean time." You chuckled, combing her hair after you combed her own. She shook her head.
"I'm not sleepy."
"Alright, alright." You patted her head. You knew she wasn't tired now but she will definitely feel it later.
"Let's go eat!" She pulled you along to the living room where the boys were sitting at the dining table already, with disposable cutlery since you haven't unpacked any kitchen stuff.
"Sorry for the mess of the house. And the lack of kitchen utensils." You apologised.
"You just came back this morning, it's completely understandable. No need to apologise." Jongho chuckled, pulling the chair out for Haneul to sit next to you. Wooyoung slid an iced coffee over to you. You took a sip and let out a blissful sigh of gratefulness. The coffee machine also wasn't set up yet.
"I got you some basic groceries. Not sure what you use specifically but we got the princess some yoghurt, milk, eggs, your iced coffee, etc." Wooyoung informed.
"You guys are life savers. Let me know how much it costs and I'll wire you back." You said, taking a portion of food for Haneul.
"No need. Take it as a welcome back gift. And don't argue with me." Wooyoung shook his head.
"What's your plan after this?" Hongjoong asked.
"I'm gonna see Mingi's mom. Then surprise Mings at the dorm." You replied, chewing your food. You leaned over to help Haneul wipe the sauce off her lip.
"Sleepover?!" Haneul's eyes brightened, looking over at you. You couldn't help but laugh at how excited she looked.
"We'll see." You said. You didn't want the boys, especially Jongho, to think that you were always leaving Haneul with them. At some point, you didn't want Haneul to think that you were never around too. So you would have to consider it.
When you were done, the boys helped you with clearing up. You were feeling a little stressed, knowing you still had to do the unpacking of the house.
"Why are you frowning?" Hongjoong came up behind you, massaging your shoulders as you were washing your hands in the kitchen sink.
"Moving is always stressful. Knowing how much more there is to be done is worrying." You sighed.
"I know me telling you not to stress won't really help. But seriously, count on us to help you with all this. You and Haneul can stay with any of us if you'd like." He comforted.
"Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without any of you." You leaned against the counter.
"Suffer." Hongjoong teased, making you jab him in the ribs.
After a bit, you got yourself and Haneul ready before the boys dropped you off at Mingi's mother's apartment. You chewed on your bottom lip as you stood at the lip. You didn't know how much she knew about what happened. She would know that you and Mingi separated right?
"Unnie, are you okay?" Haneul looked up at you. She wanted to buy Mingi's mother a 'present' too so you prepared a little fruit basket for her to give. She was a lot more excited than you.
"I'm fine, baby. Don't worry." You smiled and pressed the lift to go up. The lady might yell at you and kick you out of her house.
She had every right to.
"We're here." You said, stopping before the door. Haneul put the basket down, tip toeing to press the doorbell. You gulped as you heard the door lock beep.
"Hello?" Mrs Song opened the door. She seemed to pause when you saw her. The first thing you did was bow deeply.
"Omonim, I-" She cut you off, pulling you into hug. You blinked in confusion, not really expecting her to hug you. Haneul giggled beside you.
"Let's talk inside." She pulled away, smiling at you softly. You nodded and let Haneul in. She removed her shoes before holding out the fruits basket out to Mingi's mother with the biggest grin ever. Mrs Song cooed and bent down.
"My name is Haneul." She introduced.
"Thank you, Haneulie. This is really sweet of you. I'm Mingi oppa's omma. You can call me omonim too." She received the basket and gave Haneul a hug.
"So this is the famous (y/n)." A deep male voice said. Your eyes widened as you saw an older man sitting on the couch.
"Mr Song, it's nice to meet you. I'm (y/n)." You bowed to Mingi's father. He was tall as well, features similar to Mingi's. He chuckled and stood up, moving to stand in front of you.
"It's nice to finally meet you too, (y/n). I can see why my son has fallen head over heels for you."
"Jagiya! Don't embarrass our son." Mrs Song hit her husband's shoulder.
"Just call me abonim, no need for Mr Song. It's too formal. We're family here." He shook his head. You nodded and bowed your head. You waved Haneul over to introduce herself to Mingi's father. She bowed formally before introducing herself. Just like everyone else, you could see the way he melted when Haneul spoke.
"(y/n)." Mrs Song called you over as Haneul was distracted by Mr Song. You went over to the kitchen. Seeing that it was finally the two of you, you finally did what you wanted to do.
"I'm so sorry for everything I, omonim. I don't deserve-"
"Stop." She cut you off. You squeezed your eyes, awaiting the lecture that was coming.
"(y/n)..." She called and you straightened up. You could see how she softened and reached out to hug you tightly. You wrapped your arms around her.
"It's not been easy, hasn't it?" She whispered.
"No... It has not..." Your bottom lip quivered as tears threatened to fall again. At that point, you knew that she knew what really happened.
"I hurt him so bad, omonim. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You shook your head. She rubbed your back.
"(y/n), you went through a lot. I know you didn't intentionally hurt him. I don't blame you, abonim doesn't blame you. You went through a lot on your own and you had to be strong for Haneul. You didn't deserve to go through that." She pulled away, staring at you.
"You did it because you wanted to keep Mingi safe. You wanted to keep Haneul and Ateez safe. I understand." She rubbed your arm. You nodded your head.
"I'm just glad you and Mingi worked it out." Grabbing a tissue, she wiped your tears.
"I don't deserve his forgiveness, or any of yours."
"Let's not talk about who doesn't deserve what. Because Mingi would say he doesn't deserve such a selfless person like yourself. Every couple goes through hardships." She smiled softly.
"I'm glad Mingi didn't let you get away. I knew that you weren't the type to just break his heart and leave." She said.
"Thank you for everything." You hugged her again.
"Nothing to thank me for. Now, I have two daughters to care for." She giggled, looking over at how Haneul was now seated on Mingi's father's lap, animatedly telling him something. He had a fatherly smile on his face as he listened to her intently. You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you.
"So have you gone to see my pabo son yet?" Mrs Song asked as she moved to cut up the fruit that Haneul gave her.
"Hmm, not yet. He doesn't even know I'm back. I'm planning to surprise him later on at the dorm but I wanted to drop by here first. It's been too long." You said, leaning back against the counter.
"How was it? Living in America."
"It was interesting, I learnt a lot there in terms of work. Culture is different too. But nothing beats being at home." You shrugged.
"Oh yes, I forgot Mingi told me that you signed to a big company. But of course, home is still the best. Home is where your family is." She chuckled. You nodded in agreement.
"Alright, you two. Let's have some fruit." Mrs Song brought the cut fruit out to Mr Song and Haneul.
"Abonim." Haneul beamed and held out the pick with an pear slice at the end. Mr Song chuckled and leaned down to take a bite, patting Haneul's head. You grabbed an apple slice and handed it to Mrs Song, who was seated on the couch beside her husband.
"Is this what it's like having daughters?" Mr Song asked, staring at Haneul and you fondly.
"Right? I said the same thing when I first met (y/n)." Mrs Song giggled. You laughed, knowing Mingi and his brother would not be amused at their parents fawning over having daughters.
"I think I like having two daughters." Mr Song tapped his chin.
"Better not let your sons hear you say that." Mrs Song slapped his arm lightly.
"Please like you don't tell Mingi that you like (y/n) more." He rolled his eyes. The way they joked and interacted, you hoped that you could be like that with Mingi one day.
When the fruit was finished and you spent some time with Mingi's parents, you got ready to leave to Mingi, Seonghwa and San's shared dorm. You didn't want to go too late, especially with Mingi already having texted you a few times while you were at his parents' place. Haneul hugged the two.
"See you next time!" She giggled, hugging them tightly.
"Yes, you are welcome any time. Good girl. Be good to your unnie." Mrs Song chuckled, hugging her. She nodded her head and went to hug Mingi's father.
"Come back soon, alright?" He kissed her head and hugged her tightly. You melted, glad they got along well with her.
"Bring her back to me soon. And yourself too, (y/n)." Mr Song said, hugging you.
"I will, abonim. Thank you for having us and entertaining Haneul. Please take care." You chuckled. Then you moved on to Mingi's mother, who hugged you extra tight.
"Don't stay away for too long." She told you.
"I won't. Take care." You bid them goodbye with a final bow before leaving. With Haneul by your side, you called for a cab to take the two of you over to the dorm. During the drive, Haneul fell asleep. Poor thing, she was probably fighting the sleep for a long time.
When the cab pulled up to the dorm, you sent San and Seonghwa a message to let them know you were downstairs. You had to wake Haneul up.
"No..." She whined.
"I'm sorry, baby. You can sleep soon." You apologised, really feeling bad. You should have properly let her adjust to the time difference instead of drag her out with you the entire day.
"Hey." You greeted San and Seonghwa. Seonghwa hugged you while San helped a sleepy Haneul to his room.
"I missed you." Seonghwa hugged you tightly.
"I missed you too, Hwa." You relaxed in his arms, smiling. When San came back out after helping you settle Haneul into his bed, you hugged him too.
"Good to have you back, Indigo." He chuckled, stroking your head. You hummed in agreement. Seonghwa went to the kitchen to get you a drink. You received the glass of juice and took a sip, sitting on the couch with them for a while. San had informed you that Mingi was napping so he didn't come out to greet you.
"I shouldn't have dragged Haneul out. Poor girl, she's probably exhausted." You sighed.
"She'll adjust soon. Don't worry too much. She can sleep in my bed for as long as she needs." San smiled kindly.
"Thank you." You smiled. The way all the boys were just always ready to help you and Haneul melted your heart. They really treated you both like family.
"As much as I would like to catch up with you, this is the perfect time to surprise Mingi." Seonghwa said.
"Right. I hope he's still asleep." You put the glass down and stood up. San and Seonghwa watched in amusement.
"Good luck." San wished. You pressed your ear against Mingi's door to hear if he was awake. There was no sound of movement or Mingi's voice, which meant that he was still asleep.
You took a deep breath, it had been so long since you've seen Mingi physically that your heart was pounding. You slowly turned the door knob and crept in. Mingi was still sleeping, tucked under the blanket with his back to you. Getting in bed behind him, you hugged him.
"Ugh, San?" Mingi croaked out with a groan. San was known to go to the other members' rooms to cuddle so he must have assumed you were him.
"What time is it? Go back to your own bed and let me sleep..." He clicked his tongue.
"Fine. If that's what you want, I'll go." You chuckled. You felt Mingi's body freeze in your hold. His head whipped around and his eyes widening as he looked at your face.
"BABY?!" He sat up and looked at you as if he was dreaming, rubbing his eyes.
"What are you doing here?!" He asked.
"Surprising you." You laughed at his expression. Mingi's hands immediately came to cup your cheeks, pulling you to him so he could press his lips to yours.
"Wait, when did you come back? I'm confused, you didn't mention this to me at all when we texted or called. I'm not actually dreaming, am I?" He pulled you to his chest to hug you.
"You just kissed me and you're physically hugging me now, pabo. How can you still think you're dreaming? And I already said that it's a surprise, that's why I didn't tell you. I came back early this morning, Joong came to pick me up at the airport." You laughed. Mingi scratched his head, letting all this sink in.
"How long are you back for, baby?" He asked, fingers coming to weave through your hair as he held your cheek.
"Forever. I'm staying forever, Mings." You softened.
"Y-You are?" His voice shook, as if he couldn't believe what you were saying right now. You nodded with a hum, wrapping your arms around him as you sat in his lap.
"I missed you so much. Now I have you with me forever." He looked at you, pressing his forehead against yours.
"Yes, no more distance." You said softly.
"If you two are done with your reunion, could you come out, please?" Someone knocked on the bedroom door. You and Mingi looked at each other in confusion. You went to open the door.
"Welcome home, Indigo!" All the Ateez boys were there with Seonghwa holding a cake.
"Shhh, Haneul is sleeping." San reminded and Jongho nodded, looking at everyone threateningly. They wouldn't dare be loud now.
"Guys..." You softened, not expecting them to be the one to surprise you. You soon felt Mingi's presence behind you, he put his hands on your shoulders.
"Thank you for welcoming me home. It feels good to be back with all of you. And please, we're family, aren't we? Family calls me (y/n)." You looked at all of them. They all stared at you with soft smiles at the mention of your real name. You went over to greet Yeosang and Yunho with hugs since you haven't seen them.
"Good to have you back, (y/n)." Yunho whispered. You nodded and patted his back. With everything that happened, you're glad you and Yunho could come to an understanding and work things out.
"You've lost weight. Have you not been eating well?" Yeosang chided as he lifted you up.
"I have been, I promise!" You laughed, slapping his shoulder.
"Now that she's back, we'll make sure she's really eating well. We ordered a lot food to celebrate! So eat up." Hongjoong said. You giggled and nodded, about to follow behind the boys to where the food was.
"Mings?" You blinked when you felt him hold your wrist to stop you. You turned back to him, only for him to tug you to him, until you fell against his chest.
"Welcome home, baby. You're finally home where you belong." Mingi whispered. You melted, looking up at him before you hugged him back, your ear pressed to his chest to hear his heartbeat.
"I love you, Mings." You said.
"I love you too, my muse. I'm never letting you go again." He kissed the top of your head, holding you just a little tighter.
You couldn't agree more. Home was here, with Hanuel, Mr and Mrs Song, Ateez and Mingi. These people were your family, people you knew you could rely on and count on. And you wouldn't change it for anything in the world.
~
Series Masterlist
148 notes · View notes
babybluebex · 1 year
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𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 | 𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐡 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: dr. joseph quinn is set to speak at an important conference, and, of course, he invites you, his assistant, to come with him. after months of pining and flirting, what can go wrong when the hotel only books you one bed? part one of three 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: joseph quinn (professor!au) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: rpf (real person fiction), drinking, praise kink, smut (MINORS DNI): kissing, heavy petting 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: big thanks to @lunatictardis for her help with this fic! you're the best mea! also this was TOTALLY inspired by his professor vibes on day 3 of fanexpo nola hehe
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“I’m really glad you asked me to come with you.” 
That roused Dr. Quinn out of his sleepy reading. The plane around you was pretty quiet, although gaining volume the imminent descent, but that didn’t stop Dr. Joseph Quinn from blinking blearily as he looked up from his pages of notes. He was set to lecture tomorrow morning, one of the opening lectures at a conference centered on English literature, and your professor— and boss— had insisted you come with him. 
“Well, of course,” Dr. Quinn said quickly. He often chastised you for calling him Dr. Quinn, always saying “Call me Joe, love”, but nothing ever felt as right as Doc. Sometimes, during quiet, appreciative moments, you would call him Joseph, but Joe was a far-fetched dream. “You’re my assistant, I’d be crazy not to bring you.” 
“But I’m just your TA,” you rebutted. “I’m not, like, a personal assistant or anything.” 
“Eh,” Joseph shrugged. “Close enough.”
“But I’m glad you asked me,” you continued. It had taken a lot of convincing from him for you to even come— “it’s over Christmas holiday, so you won’t be missing any classes; the university will pay for airfare and the hotel; you have nothing to worry about, other than being there for me.”— but, in the end, you were being honest. “It’s the chance of a lifetime. I’m excited.” 
“I’m glad you think so,” Joseph said. He groaned and rolled his neck and began to pack up his notes, sliding them into a pocket of his briefcase, and he mumbled, “I cannot wait for this bed. My back hurts from these damn seats.” 
“Oh, yeah,” you groaned. The plane seats were less than optimal, and you chewed on your bottom lip. “And you booked us two rooms?” 
“The university did,” Joseph said, peering at you from over his glasses. “So, if anything is fucked up, blame them.” 
“I will,” you smiled. An ugly feeling persisted in your gut, though— something would go wrong, you were sure of it. You always had had a good intuition, and that sinking feeling was present as the intercom binged on and announced your arrival in London, far from your home. 
There was a car waiting for you at the airport and, after getting your luggage, you squeezed in next to Joseph and gave him a tired smile. You were both exhausted from a long day of traveling, and you were just as much looking forward to the bed as he was. Maybe a hot shower, or even a bath, if your room had a bathtub. 
You tailed behind Joseph as he entered the hotel once the car delivered you, and he gave the woman at the front desk a good-natured smile. Your boss was handsome, there was no denying it. He was so handsome that, if he wanted to be a movie star, he could have been. Instead, he had chosen to teach English literature, and, because of his— albeit short but prosperous— career, he had been asked to attend the conference and give a lecture on tragedies, something he had studied throughout his entire academic career. 
“Hello there,” Joseph said to the receptionist. “Um, I have a reservation under the name Quinn.” 
“Mr. Quinn,” the receptionist repeated, and she clicked on her computer for a moment. “Ah, yes, I see you— one room, king bed?”
“Oh, goodness.” 
Oh goodness, indeed. 
“No, no, there’s been a mistake,” your boss said quickly, pushing his glasses up on his nose. He looked suddenly distraught, and he furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to understand the snafu. “There were supposed to be two rooms, one for me and one for my assistant.” He gestured at you, and your grip on the handle of your suitcase tightened. 
You knew it. Your gut had told you once again that something would go wrong, and it had. 
“I’m sorry, sir,” the receptionist said. “We don’t have any other rooms; we’re all booked up for the conference. There’s a sleeper sofa in the room?” 
Joseph clenched his back teeth and looked over his shoulder at you, and you shrugged. “I’ll be fine, sir,” you told him. “It’s just for two nights.” 
“Yeah, but…” Joseph started, and he turned back to the receptionist. “There’s truly nothing you can do?”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “We’re all booked up.” 
Joseph sighed, his thumb tapping on the handle of his luggage. “It’s alright,” he said. “Thank you, darling.” He took the keycards from the receptionist’s waiting hand and slipped them into the pocket of his slacks, and he looked at you. “After you, love,” he said, and you sighed as you started out of the lobby, in search of the elevators. 
Joseph only spoke again once you were alone in the elevator. “I’m really sorry,” he said. 
You shrugged. “It’s out of your control,” you told him. “I’m not upset.” 
“Are you sure?” Joseph asked. “Because it’s okay if you are. I’ll take the sofa, you can have the bed.” 
“Oh, God, no,” you said quickly. “No, sir, this is your conference, you’re gonna be working all weekend, you deserve the bed.” 
“But I can’t just let you sleep on the sofa,” Joseph said. Behind his glasses, his eyes were big, dark as night and wide as he pleaded with you. “Please, take the bed, it’ll make me feel better.” 
The elevator dinged up to the fifth floor, and you took the charge, leading Joseph to room 525, the one that the receptionist had identified as yours. 
You waited for Joseph to unlock the door, and the familiar smell of hotel room filled your nose as the door opened. The air was stale but clean, and you peered inside to see the one big, white-clothed bed, the indicated sleeper sofa under the window on the opposite side of the room. It looked uncomfortable, and you took a seat on it as Joseph settled his luggage next to it. The springs squeaked underneath you, and you frowned wider as you looked at it and realized that it was, in fact, not a sleeper sofa. It was just a regular couch, one hardly big enough to fit you, let alone Joseph. “This isn’t…” you started, but sighed instead. “I knew I had a bad feeling about this trip.” 
“Hey, don’t say that,” Joseph said with a scowl. “We’ll get this sorted out and everything will be alright. Maybe somebody will cancel a room and we can get it.” 
“I know,” you mumbled. “But, God, I just… Sorry. In a bad mood.” 
Joseph’s frown grew, and he sat down next to you, rubbing your back soothingly. He had always been like this, very tactile and sweet with you, but never crossing boundaries. You could tell that he truly appreciated your work as his TA, grading papers for him and sometimes leading class if he asked for you to, and he was always very thankful for you, sending you flowers and buying you coffee all the time. “Dr. Quinn, you know other professors don’t treat their TAs like this,” you had tried to tell him once, but he had just smiled at you. “I know,” he had responded with that movie star smile. “But other professors don’t appreciate their TAs the way I do you.” 
Sometimes you wondered if there was more than met the eye with your boss, but there would be no avenue to explore that; he was your boss. Before he was your boss, he was your professor. It would be unprofessional at the very least and, if you were caught, you would lose your job (and likely your scholarships) and Joseph would more than likely be asked to leave the university. So, all of the lingering touches of his hand to yours and laughs shared over dinners would have to be relegated back into nothingness— no feelings, no actions, nothing. 
“What can I do to fix this?” Joseph asked, his eyes a little wet as he looked at you. “I just hate seeing you so upset.” 
“Maybe…” you started, chewing on your bottom lip. You were dehydrated from the flight, and your skin was dry, and you sighed. “Maybe we could share the bed? It’s big enough for both of us, and if we put, like, a pillow barrier in the middle…?”
“Oh, love,” Joseph said softly. “You know we can’t do that.” 
“Who has to know?” you asked. “If we don’t tell anybody…” 
You almost worried that you had offended him, with the way his silence stretched on and on, but the wrinkle between his eyebrows told you that he was legitimately thinking about it. “Let’s talk about it more tonight,” Joseph said finally. “After dinner, yeah?” 
“Alright,” you agreed. The way he didn’t immediately say no lifted your spirits slightly, and you stood up, brushing dust off of your skirt. “What’s for dinner?” 
Joseph smiled at you, his movie star smile that made your legs nearly buckle, and he slotted his hand with yours. “Whatever you’d like.”
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Dinner ended up being down in the hotel restaurant. It was a little busy, but you and Joseph managed to find a table for the two of you, nestled into the back corner. You almost preferred it that way, secluded and apart from everyone else. You and Joseph were used to dinner together— he often would order take-away to his office while you were helping grade essays, and you always would end up abandoning the essays and talking together— but never anything like this. The candlelight made everything feel intimate, like it was almost a date. 
“Wine?” Joseph asked, looking down at the menu in his hands. He still wore the clothes he had worn on the plane, slacks and butter-yellow shirt, his hair messy and his glasses perched just so on his nose, and he looked exhausted, but he was the usual ball of composed energy that he always was. 
You shrugged. “I don’t really like wine,” you told him. “But if you want some, go for it.” 
“Don’t like wine?” Joseph repeated, his eyes playfully narrowing at you. “What sort of academic are you?” 
“I just don’t!” you giggled. “Unless it’s really good. I just don’t like anything that’s bitter.” 
“What the fuck…?” Joseph grumbled, turning the menu over to see the wine list on the back. You laughed, and his smile betrayed his grumpy attitude. “Don’t like wine, I don’t believe you for one second.” 
“I just don’t like the way it makes me feel,” you told him, side-stepping the real reason you didn’t want to drink wine around him. It made you feel easy and loose, in a way that you probably shouldn’t be around your crush-slash-boss. You settled on a better reason: “It makes me feel like garbage the next morning.” 
“Well, we don’t want that, do we?” Joseph asked. “I’m gonna order a red, but if you want something else, tell me.” 
“Should we be drinking right now?” you asked teasingly. “We’re technically working.” 
“Ah, live a little,” Joseph shrugged. “We’re not at work right now. If we were at a lecture or a panel, that would be different.” 
Live a little. Sure. “Order me a glass too,” you told him. “Let’s drink a toast.” 
“To?” Joseph asked, tilting his head curiously. 
“Getting through one hell of a semester,” you said. “And to give us strength for the next one.” 
“Hear, hear,” Joseph said with a smile. 
Once you had the wine in your hands, you found yourself becoming less uptight. Your shoulders relaxed, and you settled your arms on the table as you leaned forward and listened to Joseph prattle on about the lecture he had to give tomorrow morning. “I’m honestly nervous,” he said, rotating his glass around and watching the wine move with it. It was a dark red drink, something that made the corners of your mouth curl with its sour, dry bitterness, but the warmth that grew in your chest made you keep drinking it. “I’ve never been nervous to teach before, but this is so different.” 
“It’s a different crowd,” you told him. “It’s not students this time, it’s other educators. Just think about it like you’re sharing something cool with your friends, don’t think of it as a lecture, exactly.” 
Joseph looked at his wine glass, then at you, and a small smile crossed his lips. “What would I do without you?” he asked, leaning closer to you. 
“You’d be way behind on grading,” you giggled, and Joseph smiled wider. “I don’t know, sir. I really like working for you. You’re just awesome, so I’m glad that you like me.” 
“Aw,” Joseph said. “How could I not like you? You’re so kind and funny, and you’re… Really gorgeous. I like looking up from my grading and seeing you sitting on the couch in my office, working on your own schoolwork. You always get this-this look on your face, like you’re thinking so hard— a little wrinkle between your eyebrows.”
“You do the same thing,” you told him. “I must’ve picked it up from you.” You sipped at the wine, frowning at the bitter taste again, and Joseph took notice. 
“You don’t have to drink that,” Joseph told you gently. “I can order you something else.” 
“No, no, it’s fine,” you told him quickly. “I just… I just like spending time with you.” 
“Really?” Joseph asked. He seemed taken aback by the topic change— maybe by the content of the topic change itself— but a flush under his beard told you all that you needed to know; he was flattered. “I like spending time with you too.” 
He inched closer to you still, close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his chest, and you moved closer to him too. Your knee touched his, but neither of you made any movements to stop it— instead, Joseph let his hand touch your leg, his thumb soothing up and down your knee. 
“I just like you,” you told him. Your hand drifted down to his hand, grasping his fingers, and Joseph raised his big brown eyes to your face, watching your lips as you sipped at your wine again. 
“This is a bad thing we’re doing,” Joseph said softly, shaking his head gently. “You should tell me to stop.” 
“Stop what?” you asked. “I like it a lot. What if I want you to do more?” 
“You’re asking for trouble,” Joseph said quickly, his grip tightening on your knee. 
“What if I like trouble?” you asked. 
That struck your boss silent, and he leaned back for a moment, watching you with his owlish eyes. “The bed,” he started, and you deflated. Of course he would stop it before it got good. “I’m more than happy to take the couch, I’m telling you. We don’t have to share or anything.” 
“It’s big enough to fit both of us,” you said. “Dr. Quinn, please, I know what I’m doing.” 
“I don’t think you do,” Joseph said flatly. “Because you keep looking at me like that, and you won’t call me by my first name, and you’re practically begging me to share a bed with you, you have no idea what you're doing to me.” 
“Oh,” you said softly. “Docto… Joseph. I’m not trying to… I don’t know, seduce you or anything.” 
“But you are,” Joseph said. “But I’m not upset about it. In fact, I like it. It’s been a while since anyone’s tried to seduce me, and, darling, it’s lovely to be seduced.” 
You were taken aback. You truly weren’t trying to do anything, and the fact that you had an effect on him made your head spin. Maybe it was the wine. You took another drink as you watched Joseph, his hand still on your leg, his lips looking perfectly plump and soft, and you whispered, “You’re drunk.” 
“No,” Joseph said. “I’ve had one glass of wine.” 
“You’re not exactly sober,” you battled. “We shouldn’t do anything if we’re both not sober.” 
“I’ve waited for half a year,” Joseph shrugged, swirling his wine around in his glass again. “I can wait one more night.” 
“Can you?” you asked. “‘Cause… ‘Cause I’m not sure I wanna wait anymore.” 
“Pardon?” Joseph asked, his face going pale. 
“Kiss me, Joseph,” you told him. “Please, I’ve been waiting too long—“
Joseph took your face in his hands, fingers grasping your chin as he drew you into his warm body, and he kissed you. Finally, it felt as if a whole semester of pining was being brought out, and fireworks exploded in your belly. His mouth was juicy and warm, his tongue soft as he slid it into your mouth, and you eagerly kissed him back as your hands grasped at the lapels of his shirt. 
When the kiss broke, you frowned. You weren’t quite ready yet, and you started to chase Joseph back into a kiss, and he placated you with a quick peck. “I’ll give you all you want,” he whispered, his accent curling in your ears and making you dizzy. “Let’s get back to the room first.” 
The journey back to the room was torturous. You held onto his hand as you waited in the elevator bay, and you couldn’t help your giggles when he tugged you close into his body, chest to chest. “You’re so beautiful,” Joseph whispered. “How I managed to wait so long, I’ll never know.” 
“To be fair, we’ve never gotten drunk together before,” you said, and Joseph jokingly rolled his eyes. 
“We’re not drunk,” he said pointedly. “We had one glass of wine each, that’s hardly even tipsy.” 
“Mhm,” you nodded jokingly, and Joseph rolled his eyes. 
“Fuck off,” he scoffed. “See if I make love to you now.” 
“Ooh, you wanna make love to me?” you giggled. “You’re such a romantic, I figured you’d just wanna fuck and then leave.”
“First of all, where would I go?” Joseph chuckled. “We only have one room. Second of all… Do other guys treat you that way?” 
“I mean…” you started. The elevator dinged and the doors opened, and you and Joseph stepped inside as you contemplated your words. “Not all guys. But enough for it to be a habit.” 
Joseph cooed softly, drawing you into his body, and he softly kissed your cheek, his beard nestling just right into your skin. “I won’t treat you that way,” he said. “I’m a grown man, I won’t just abandon you at the slightest provocation. All those boys, they didn’t know what a good thing they had.” 
“And you do?” you asked. “You think I’m a good thing?”
“I know you’re a good thing,” Joseph said with a softness to his voice that only made you sure that he was being honest. “It’s like I’ve always told you, you are beautiful—” he paused to press a kiss to your forehead, “And you’re funny—” Another kiss to your cheek, “And you’re a proper good time. I’ve wanted this since I met you.” 
“Really?” you asked. “B-But I was your student back when we first met.” 
Joseph shrugged. “Can you blame me?” he asked. The elevator dinged again, opening up on your floor, and he took your hand, leading you back to the room. Your tummy was doing flips as you walked, getting closer and closer to that bed, and you attached your lips to his neck as he fumbled in his pants for the keycard. “Fuck, love,” he whispered, turning his head a bit to expose his neck to you even more. 
“Hurry up,” you giggled, and you gently bit his neck as Joseph finally found the keycard in his pocket, and he rushed to unlock the door. He tugged you in with little decorum and, once the door was shut, he pressed you up against it and kissed you.
This kiss wasn’t like the one you had shared downstairs. No, this one was hungrier, his tongue dominating your mouth and licking your lips as his hands grabbed at you. He pressed his knee between your thighs and opened up your legs, letting his thigh slot between yours, and you tugged at his curls as you moaned softly. “Fuck,” Joseph whispered, his teeth scraping your bottom lip. “You sound so pretty.” 
“You do too,” you told him. 
“You haven’t heard me moan yet,” Joseph said softly, and you smiled, chasing him back to you with a quick kiss. 
“No,” you said against his lips. “But your voice…” 
“You like listening to me talk?” Joseph asked, and you nodded. “Oh, my girl… I’ll never shut up around you now.” 
“As if you ever did in the first place,” you giggled, and Joseph smiled. 
“True,” he said. “When I have to talk for a living, that doesn’t make it easy to shut up.” 
“How ‘bout you shut up now, and fuck me?” you asked, grinding your hips down onto his thigh, and you gasped. You could feel his hard erection through his trousers, resting pretty on his thigh, threatening to bust out of the zipper; he was big, and your tummy resumed its excited flips. 
Joseph hummed contently, and he grabbed hard at your hips. You loved the juxtaposition of him, being so soft and treating you so gently, but touching you so roughly. His words were one thing, and his movements were another, and you bit your lip as Joseph shucked off his big wool coat and let it fall to the floor. “C’mere,” he mumbled and led you to the bed, laying you out and letting you feel the softness of the covers. You took some of it up in your fists and sighed softly, and Joseph’s hands went for your skirt, popping the button on the side and shucking it down your legs. 
You worked to take off your coat and blouse and, soon enough, you were left in your bra and panties. Joseph grinned as he looked down at you, his big hands sliding up and down your body to feel every inch of you, and you writhed as you tried to get his hands exactly where you wanted them. “Where do you want me?” Joseph asked softly. “Tell me, my darling, I’ll do anything you want me to.” 
“Want you everywhere,” you told him, pulling him back into a kiss. Your hands, although shaking, went to his butter-yellow shirt and started to unbutton it, only getting about halfway down his belly before he distracted you with kisses on your neck. “Fuck!” you gasped. “Joseph!” 
“That’s it, darling,” he whispered. “Call out my name, let everyone know who’s making you feel this way.” 
“Are you gonna fuck me?” you asked. 
“No, darling,” Joseph told you. “I’m going to make love to you. Show you exactly what I’ve been wanting all this time.” 
His kisses trailed down your body, his hands deftly ridding you of your bra before his lips attached to your pebbled nipple, sucking on it gently, just enough to make you whimper and moan. “Yes, yes,” Joseph whispered. His lips made messy kisses all over your tits, littering you with reverence, and he said, “Out with it, darling— you wanna say something, so say it.” 
“Nothing,” you lied. You did want to say something to him, you wanted to say a lot to him, but you couldn’t find the words to express what you were feeling. Your heart was racing and your palms felt sweaty, and you clutched his shoulder as he hungrily captured your lips. You moaned softly at him, anxiety and nerves overtaking you and forcing your silence, and Joseph broke the kiss to remove his glasses and shove them on the bedside table. 
“S’not nothing,” Joseph said firmly. “Something’s going on. Do you not want this?” 
“No!” you exclaimed. “I mean, yes! I mean— Fuck, I want this, I’ve wanted this for a long time, but—” 
“Fuck,” Joseph whispered. “I know we shouldn’t, I know it’s against the rules, but, darling, I just can’t—“ 
“No, no, Joey,” you said quickly, pressing your hands to his chest. He softened at the nickname, and you slowly started to unbutton his shirt. “Listen to me. I’m just… I’m not on birth control, and I’m fairly certain you didn’t bring any condoms to an academic conference.” 
“So I’ll pull out,” Joseph shrugged. 
“But I don’t want you to,” you told him. You looked him deep in his chocolate eyes, holding his chin in your hand, and you touched your forehead to his. “I want you to claim me. Make me your girl.” 
“Fuck, you can’t talk to me like that,” Joseph chuckled. “You’ll make me bust in my trousers.” 
“How long has it been for you?” you asked. 
“Honestly?” Joseph started. “A long time. Since I was your age.” 
“As if we have that big of an age gap,” you giggled. 
“But still,” Joseph said. “I wanna do right by you, and if pulling out is what happens—“ 
“But I don’t want that,” you told him firmly. “I want you to cum inside me. I need it.” 
“Jesus,” Joseph laughed. “You’re so sexy, did you know that?” 
“Says you,” you retaliated, and you grabbed a fistful of his curls and tugged him into a messy kiss, mouth open and tongues dancing. “God, Joey, you’re so fucking sexy, I’ve wanted you for so long.” 
“Glad we’re on the same page,” Joseph said. His hands joined yours in undressing him, and you kissed his freckles shoulders and chest as he became available to you. Nothing was enough, and you wrapped your legs right around his waist and kissed his neck. He wasn’t built, but you knew how strong he was, and you smiled into his mouth as his arms greedily wrapped around you and smoothed down your back. His chest was warm against your tits, and you whimpered as his hands fell from your back and went to his belt. 
There was really no going back now…
-
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spicyclover · 1 year
Text
Unplanned | Part eight
Summary:  You are pregnant with Mick. It’s not going as planned; it’s not planned. Everything happened so fast, and everything was chaotic. Mick has a hard time accepting it. You have difficulty realizing that two of you may not be raising this child.
Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four | Part five | Part six | Part seven | Part eight
Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! 
I'm open to requests.
Thank you, and Enjoy! :)
Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover
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The following day, he jumps on the next plane available for Canada, which is a three-connection, but he doesn't care at this point. He waits hours for his next connection at the Charles de Gaulle airport. Trying to think about what to say or do.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are forced to land at the Ottawa International Airport due to a snowstorm at the destination point. We apologize for the inconvenience. We sincerely apologize, and our stewardesses on the ground can assist you to redirect you to the next available flights. Thank you for your understanding.”
Mick looks through the window and sees the white expanse covering the airport's ground. The runway was covered with heavy snow, but he could see the plows clearing the runways quickly to allow the aircraft to land safely. Dressed in a little sweater and a T-shirt. He regrets not thinking about Canada’s complicated weather, especially at this time of year. Of course, it’s cold in January, and there’s snow. It’s not Australia, after all. He also regrets not putting a hoodie in his bag. He knows full well that he will catch his death once he gets out of the heat of the airport.
All the passengers on the plane complained about the change of direction, and several disgruntled people were already praising the company’s complaint. Mick looks up and knows full well that it’s not their fault. All of eastern Canada is blocked because of this storm.
However, he is thinking about what he will be able to do next. How will he get to Quebec City? He thought about the various options as the aircraft suddenly landed on the runway. He clings to his seat, taking a deep breath. He never liked to fly, let alone in a storm. The bell that says the seat belt is no longer necessary rings, and everyone rushes into the aisles to pick up their luggage as quickly as possible. Something else Mick doesn’t like. Being glued to strangers, he sits quietly in his place and waits for people to come out to get up and take his bag. He crosses the hallway and follows the arrows that lead him to security. He goes through customs quickly and ends up at the airport gates. He sees people pulling out their winter jackets and big boots. "I really should have dressed." He mumbles to himself, crossing his arms around his body to keep his body warm.
He went to the reception desk to be put on the next flight to Montreal, but it would not leave for three days. “It’s too long.” A little stress invades him, and he wonders how he will reach his destination if no plane lands in Montreal for the next few days. So he sits on a bench and thinks. “I have to get to her.”
He finally finds the best solution to his problem. “If I can’t fly to her. I’ll do what I know best. I’ll drive to her." He got up to determine and went to the car rental service.
Renting is the best option right now.
After five hours of difficult driving through the snowstorm, he finally arrived at his destination. The city is completely buried under the ton of snow that fell during the night, the streets are deserted, and it makes the landscape breathtaking. The snow covers the entire St. Lawrence River. He even sees people on snowmobiles, making tracks on the fresh snow to cross the river. Mick knows snow, but snow like this never happens. He never thought that when he came to Quebec, he would be blown away by his landscapes. The sun is rising, setting in the sky.
They spoke about her home. She described the island where she lives. Ancestral houses, fields as far as the eye can see and the different villages of the island. The bridge that connects the island to the city is old but beautiful. Everything seems asleep under its snow mountains, yet several people are already beginning to unfold their entrance, and children are waiting for the school bus. Fortunately, the road is perfectly cleared of snow, allowing Mick to admire the landscape without danger.
He easily finds the house. He remembers as if it were yesterday the description she gave him of her parents' house. She described the landscape and the atmosphere of the place, and he felt it strongly. He exits his vehicle and is surprised that the snow reaches his calves. He tightens his sweater against his body and approaches the house's porch. The lights inside his lit, and he still sees Christmas decorations. The tree shines with a thousand lights. He rings the bell.
A chime agitates and produces a magnificent symphony that mixes with wind and snow. He stands there for a few seconds without a sound and hops on the spot to warm up. Then, he hears through the door a person approaching.
"Yes?" asks the lady, opening the door.
She's staring at Mick from top to bottom, probably wondering what he's doing in a weather like this, dressed like this. Mick looks up at the woman in front of him, and she doesn't look like Y/n, and he feels embarrassed to disturb her. He blushes when he stutters.
"Um... I don't think I have the correct address. I'm sorry to bother you." He quickly steps back and is ready to go down the stair when suddenly.
"Mick," he hears a voice in the distance.
She approaches the entrance door and lets her face be seen in the door frame. A smile from on his face. It's her, and it's really her. He can't believe it. It seems like ages since he last saw her. Her hair is brighter, and her skin is radiant. She seems to radiate for miles. She has a worried look on her face. He's shaking like a leaf, and his face seems frozen from the cold.
"What are you doing here?" She asks, taking him by the arm and drawing him into the hall. "Come, come in. You will catch death."
She closes the door behind him, and the other woman leaves at the end of the long corridor in a room unknown to him, leaving them alone. The young woman helps him take his shoes off, grumbling about not dressing enough for the temperature. She guides him into the living room, sitting him in front of the fire to warm him up. Mick doesn't say much, but he thanks her. He's thankful she didn't throw him like an old sock in his car so he could get out of the country. She leaves in another room, and Mick takes the time to look around at the pictures in front of him sitting on the mantel. He rubs his hands close to the fire, hoping to warm up. She comes back a few minutes later.
"Thank you," he said, taking the hot chocolate in his icy hands.
He shudders and shivers from the cold. She watches him for a few moments before returning to the corridor. She returns with warm clothes and a vast warming blanket. He puts on the clothes, and she tenderly wraps him up like a child in the blanket and caresses his hair. Despite all the anger, she may feel. At this very moment, all she wants is his good. He puts his head between the palm of her hand, taking the time to feel her warmth, keeping her contact a few moments before it is interrupted.
“What are you doing here, Mick?" She asks tenderly as she sits on the couch next to him.
He doesn't know what to say at first. So, he lets his eyes look at the room. He notices the house is small but extremely warm and cozy. The mix of wood and cream makes the home very welcoming and not intimidating. Nothing like his house. He feels good here, and he hopes she is too.
“I... He’s searching for the words he spent hours practicing on the plane and in the car to her house. “I came to see you.” He admits locking his ocean-blue eyes in hers.
“Mick, what did you really come to do? Are you not with Nina?” She wonders with a touch of bitterness in her voice.
He feels the bitterness in her voice, and he feels terrible. Bad because he wants her to know so many things all at once, but she doesn't seem able to listen.
She didn’t want to show him that he hurt her, but she couldn’t help but wonder what happened to the other. "Why is he here? Did the other girl leave him? Is that why he came here?" All those questions invade her mind immediately, and she feels her tear coming up. Her throat tightens.
“No. No. I...” Words struggle to get out, and Mick feels increasingly uncomfortable. His cheeks turn red, and he mumbles an apology again. “I broke up with Nina.” He finally confesses, looking at her in the eye once more.
“Oh, sorry about you.” She isn't sorry for a bit but doesn't feel better either. Strangely, she feels weird about all this.
He takes a sip of his hot chocolate. All the sentences he prepared, all the words and promises he made up on the plane, are gone. He wants to tell her the world and even more. "How can he describe how she makes him feel if he doesn't even have the words?" He wants to kiss her, to prove to her that he'll be hers, and only hers by now. But he knows for sure that a kiss isn't the right idea. She needs explication, and quickly. All this situation makes him anxious and stressed.
“No. No. No. She's not important to me.” He puts his coffee cup on the table and turns his body towards the young woman. “I want you.” He mumbles, taking her hands gently in his own.
“Mick...”
“No, listen to me! I screwed up, I know. I shouldn’t have left you alone all this time, and I’ll have. I want to be there for you, with you. I want you to be close to me. The few days we spent together have opened my eyes, and I know what I want now. I...”
"Don’t say it," she implores with eyes full of water.
“I need you to know that. The few weeks without you were the worst weeks of my life.” He approaches her hand and rubs her cheek tenderly. “I don’t just want to be involved in your life because of the baby, our baby. I want to be involved because I...”
“No, stop, Mick.” She says, pushing him away. “You can’t say that when it’s only been a few weeks since you walked out on me, kissing your girlfriend in my face. I can’t... I don’t want those words coming out of your mouth. You’re being unfair to me.” She cries out as she leaves the room in tears.
She hates hormones. She hates the control it has on her. She can't have a proper conversation that doesn't involve tears and screams since the start of her pregnancy. She feels so frustrated with herself and doesn't want to say more things to Mick. She storms out of the room, slamming the bathroom door. Her hormones make this situation somewhat upsetting, a real drama. She locks herself in the bathroom and lets herself slide to the ground.
He has no right to come back like a flower and ask him to forgive him for the weeks of pure sadness that he made her live. He has no right. She bursts into tears and brings her knees back to her chest. She did her best with her growing belly, a little more rounded by her 15 weeks of pregnancy.
On his side, Mick’s remorse seizes him, and he feels at his worst. How she feels and expresses it is worse than he could have imagined, and he never wanted that to happen. He sees the woman who welcomed him, and she approaches him with a compassionate smile.
"Don’t worry. It’s hormones. She’s just upset about the situation, but once she’s calm, she’ll talk to you.” She said as she sat beside him, offering him a comforting pat on the back. "Don’t worry about it. I know that you have good intentions."
"How do you know?" He questions down.
"Well, I talked with your mother a few hours ago. She's a very persuasive woman.” She giggles slightly to relax the atmosphere and reassure him. "She cares about you very much."
“You are her mother?”
“Yes." She nods. "You should go see her."
"I don't think it's the right idea. She hates me." He mumbles, wiping a few tears down his cheek.
"She doesn't hate you. She's upset and pregnant, which are two things that don't go together. Knowing my daughter, she’s probably doing a thousand scenarios in her head, so I think you can go and reassure her." She taps his shoulder gently before getting up again. "You have to lift the handle a little to unlock the door. And a little tip, don’t talk too much. Let her open to you.” She winks at him before heading outside.
Mick nods and gets up from the couch. He listens to her choking sobs with his ear glued to the bathroom door. A pinch in the heart invades him, and he unlocks the door without difficulty. She barely has time to look up as he’s already hugged her. Letting her go through her emotions. She wants to struggle and get away from him, but deep down, she doesn’t want to. She allows her tears to stain his sweater. Mick gently cradles her. She feels good in his arms, reminding her of the day he took her in his coat to keep her warm.
Her sobs subside, and her breathing resumes a normal rhythm. She feels her body relax more and more and closes her eyes, happy to have him back by her side. She gently detaches herself from him to take a handkerchief and blow her nose. She laughs and implores him not to watch her blow her nose. He laughs but does what she says, and he looks away.
They remain for a moment in silence, sitting in the bathroom, enjoying the presence of the other. When Mick’s stomach starts to gurgle strongly, she finally decides to get up. He helps her get back on her feet, and she giggles when she hears his belly gurgling. He blushes heavily when he mumbles an apology. She leads him to the kitchen and orders him to sit down. She takes out a pan and removes the pancake preparation that she made a few hours ago from the fridge.
He takes the time to admire her. Her cream hoodie, which he recognizes from the RIC store, suits her perfectly. She seems cozy and warm while the sun sets on the kitchen windows. As always, the light from the mighty sun reflects on her magnificent strawberry blonde. Mick wants to put his hand in her hair and smell that sweet smell of honey again. Her perfume intoxicates him. He's lost in her beauty that he doesn't even realize she talked to him.
"What?" He mumbles, a bit embarrassed to have been cough daydreaming.
"Do you want maple syrup on your pancake?"
He nods, and they eat in silence. Mick thanks her multiple time for her kindness, and she laughs. She finds him sweet. He is sweet. All those things he says and how he tells them makes her heart go. Butterflies in her stomach. She rests a hand on her belly, rubbing it distractedly, listening to Mick mumbling about his recent discovery about their baby.
The more she thinks about it, the more she realizes she hasn't been fair to him either, especially about the baby. She knows they have to talk about it eventually, but right now wants this peace and quiet moment, without drama, to continue forever. She's lost in her thought and hasn't realized he is asking her a question.
"Hum?"
"How is he?" He asks again, pointing at her baby bump.
"Oh, everything is fine. The baby is perfectly healthy and strong and has a strong heartbeat."
"Really?" Mick’s eyes light up, and she smiles affectionately.
"Yeah! Do you want to hear it?"
"Sure." The spark in his eyes makes her smile even more.
She gets her phone and headphone and comes back quickly. She sets the devices on his head and searches her playlist for the baby songs. She hasn't stopped listening to it since the doctor gave her a record.
For a few seconds, he can't hear a thing. But, little by little, the beats are listened to. Regular and strong. Tears of joy appear in his eyes. This is Mick's first time hearing his baby’s heart beating. Even if it’s not live, he is filled with joy. He smiles fully and gently puts his hand against the young woman’s belly. He caresses tenderly and can no longer hold back his tears. The emotion is strong. He never thought he would be so moved by a very small being not yet born. Seeing him move makes her move, and she wipes her tears. She is more than happy to be able to share her moment with him finally. She ties her fingers to his and puts her head against his shoulder.
"Come with me at ROC this weekend." He mumbles once the recording of the heartbeat is finished. "We have much to discuss, but I want you close, and I don't want this to end."
Mick’s heart beats a thousand a second, and his nervousness makes him blush. To reassure himself after this proposal, he caresses his stomach. God, he can’t wait for the baby to move, for him to feel it too.
She hesitates to accept his request and doesn’t want to find herself in a situation she doesn’t like again. And even more, this is a public event, and many people will be there. It’s one thing to meet his family at home and stay in a private setting, but it’s another to make this story public. He feels his hesitation, and he cannot help but add.
"My friend Sebastian is going to be there. I really want you to meet him. It’s like a second father, a mentor to me. And I want him to see the person who’s going to... I hope... share her life with me." He whispers at the end of his sentence, barely inaudible.
Her heart goes wild, and the butterflies in her belly fly away. She feels light and happy. Happy that he offers her. Glad he chose her. Glad she could finally tell “us” after these weeks of loneliness.
"Okay." She says. "I'll go with you."  
Tag list:
@tyna-19 @ironcowboycopnickel @dreamerrosie @gagaga167 @primadonnasdream @sachaa-ff @majx00 @lissimountf1 @mloyer @playboygeniusphilanthropist​ @sugarbabygirlofdaddy​ @pleasedontfollowimlost​ @blueleonor​ basicallyherondale mariar31
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liaromancewriter · 3 months
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It Happened One Miami Night (1/?)
Series Premise: A work trip to Miami means finally accepting that some risks are worth taking. Or are they?
Fandom: Choices Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff Words: 1,045
Series Masterlist
A/N: The long awaited Miami series! I think this might be 3 or 4 parts, but I'm not sure yet. For Ethan's POV at the airport, read my old (and overly indulgent) fic: Out of Control.
Submission to @choicesmonthlychallenge March dialogue prompt: "We're running out of time."
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The ballgown had to go. There was no other choice. Besides, Cassie Valentine reasoned, she was going to a conference, not a white-tie gala.
She’d bought the dress on impulse when she saw it in a boutique on Newbury Street. It matched the heirloom necklace her parents gifted her when she graduated from medical school. But galas and the intern lifestyle didn’t exactly mix, and the dress had gathered dust in her closet until now.
Cassie stared at the clothes, shoes and other essentials she’d stuffed into the small carry-on case that lay unzipped and open atop her bed. Carefully adjusting the garment bag so as not to crush the beautiful midnight blue gown, she tucked the ends in and wondered if she could close and zip the bag without applying pressure.
They were likely flying coach, as that’s what most people did, which meant packing the bare minimum. Unfortunately, she had never learned the art of packing light and didn’t think Dr. Ramsey was patient enough to wait for her checked luggage to roll off the carousal.
He might just leave her at the airport to find her own way to the hotel right after giving her the patented Ramsey glare. The man was infuriatingly predictable like that.
Huffing in frustration, Cassie threw herself on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It was bad enough that she had to be at the airport in a few hours, but the worst was that she’d had an extraordinarily long shift with barely time to eat dinner.
Anyway, she consoled herself. She’d likely be stuck inside dark meeting rooms taking notes and playing assistant all weekend, not enjoying cocktails by the pool.
Dr. Ramsey hadn’t said anything about her accompanying him to receptions and parties that were par for the course at these conventions. As far as the medical community was concerned, she was a nobody.
Cassie was honest enough to admit she was ambivalent about this trip. Despite her bravado in front of Sienna and the “girl can dream” comment, spending time alone with Ethan Ramsey away from the hospital was not good for her resolution to stay away from him.
He was dangerous to her heart. Tall, dark, and handsome, he had laser-blue eyes that made her insides melt whenever he directed them her way. He was an attending and a world-famous diagnostician, while she was a lowly intern who still had trouble believing in herself.
Workplace romances were often treacherous for women, even more so when the man was her superior. That lesson had been ingrained in her brain from the moment she got her first job. Her father had taught her to spot the signs and avoid putting herself in a situation where the lines could be crossed.
They could never work, and it could ruin her career before she’d truly begun. If she thought otherwise, she was dreaming.
So, why did the impossibility of it all make her unbearably sad?
Feeling the long day catch up with her, she closed her eyes briefly. Just five minutes, she told herself, letting out a loud yawn. Five minutes to rest her busy brain, and then she’d finish getting her stuff ready for tomorrow.
She woke up hugging the sides of the carry-on and the sound of an alarm blaring in the quiet. She started to fling her arm to hit the snooze button, but her eyes snapped open.
Crap, crap, crap. She’d fallen asleep. What time was it?
Cassie grabbed her phone off the nightstand, blinked to clear sleep from her eyes and then yelped before hurriedly swinging her legs off the bed. She needed to haul ass or forever put up with Dr. Ramsey’s snide remarks about missing their flight.
An hour later, she ran down the terminal, the wheels of her carry-on case rattling behind her. She scanned gate numbers and sweated bullets as the overhead announcer warned that it was the last call for the flight to Miami.
Cassie skidded to a halt outside their gate, an apology hovering on her lips as Ethan took off his eyeglasses and checked his watch.
“Five more seconds, and I’d have boarded without you.”
She couldn’t tell from his expression if he was angry or just resigned at her lateness. His tone was entirely too casual for her to decide.
“I won’t happen again!” Cassie said, gulping oxygen and ignoring the stitch in her side. The mad dash across the airport caught up with her.
Ethan quirked one eyebrow. “You think I’ll be inviting you to medical conferences often, do you?”
It was such an on-brand response that Cassie couldn’t help but grin. “Fingers crossed?”
He rolled his eyes, but the wide, easy smile showed her he wasn’t offended by her sass. “Oh for goodness’ sake, let’s board already. We’re running out of time.”
He handed his boarding pass to the gate attendant and waited off to the side while Cassie did the same. Just before they entered the jetway, she absently glanced at the light snow falling on the tarmac outside.
“Sunshine and clear blue skies, here we come,” she murmured to herself before following him down the jetway.
Unwittingly, her eyes fell on his well-toned ass and thighs clad in dark jeans, and her throat became dry. Oh, boy!
He’s not for you, and this is a bad idea. Cassie repeated the words like a mantra as they neared the aircraft's open door and the flight attendants waiting to greet them.
Half an hour later, his cologne hit her senses, and she held her breath to stop herself from sniffing him. Instead, she turned away from his profile to watch the dark clouds outside the window as the plane left Boston behind.
This is madness. Stop it, she scolded herself as they companionably settled in for the long flight after a hearty breakfast. She nervously fiddled with the in-flight entertainment screen while ignoring Ethan, who was too engrossed in his book to pay her any attention.
His nearness was like a drug, and she was growing addicted. If she was going to leave Miami with her heart intact, she would have to resist the temptation. It was for the best. Some things really were not worth the risk.
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All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @lady-calypso
@mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16
@justyourusualash @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction
Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics
Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate
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wosowrites · 1 year
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Canadian Wonders (Jessie Fleming x Reader)
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Warnings: None
A/N: This is so cute my heart melts for jessie
Prompt: Reader is australian, and has never seen a lot of snow before. So Jessie takes her to her home town to meet her family and have a traditional Canadian winter.
When you’ve lived in the land down under for 20 years, and then move to play for a huge club like Chelsea at 21, a lot of things take adjusting. But somehow, it wasn’t the intense training, or the new people, that was the biggest adjustment. It was the weather. You never went to university, not being a big scholar and being raised in a broken home with little money. Instead, you opted to go pro right away. You went pro in 2020, and was relieved to know you would have another aussie at the club with you. You and Sam Kerr had been playing together since you were 15 and she was 18. Soon enough, you got known as a pretty dynamic duo, arriving to winter practices in huge puffy coats, and covered head to toe. You were both strikers, and Emma loved playing you both at the top. In a bit over two years, you both reached your 100th game for Chelsea, having collected between the both of you, 169 goals and 32 assists.
In the middle of 2020, you met Jessie Fleming.
You both started dating in 2021, and 2 years later, you were still going strong. Jessie finally decided she wanted you to meet her family in person, and see her home town. So, in january of 2023, you hoped on a plane to London, Ontario. And you thought London, England was cold…
You stepped out of the small London, Ontario airport, the freezing cold hitting you right away. "I told you to put a coat on baby," Jessie said, laughing at your shocked face. "I didn’t think it would be this cold!" You said, shivering. "I warned you!" Jessie said, opening her long winter coat. You quickly dropped your bag at your feet and abandoned your suitcase, putting your arms around her and feeling the comfort of her body. Jessie closed the big coat around the both of you, kissing the top of your head.
You were taller than her only by an inch, but in your cold state, you were hunched over to stay warm.
"How quickly is Eylsse gonna get here?" You whined. "Just texted her, she’ll be here in- oh there she is." Jessie said.
You reluctantly left the comfort of your girlfriends body, pulling away and seeing Elysse and Tristan driving up in the family subaru. You saw the pure joy in their eyes, the happiness of seeing their sister. You felt happy for Jessie, happy she had that bond with her siblings, but also sad that yours hadn’t reached out to you in years.
Tristan and Elysse stepped out of the car, Elysse running up to Jessie and jumping in her arms. Tristan seemed more reserved, more like Jessie, so you opted for a simple handshake. "It’s nice to meet you in person, you’re taller than you seem on family facetimes." Tristan says. "Don’t lie to me," you laughed, knowing very well you were not tall. "Hey, Elysse!" You said. She hugged you tightly, smiling at you wildly. "I love your nose piercing, oh my god it looks so good on you! I’ve always wanted one but I don’t know if it would suit me." You say to Elysse. "You should get one! I know a really good guy if you want!" Elysse said, smiling at you. "I’ll think about it. Let’s just please get out of the cold." You said, grabbing both yours and Jessie’s luggage and bringing it to the car.
"Did you not tell your aussie girlfriend to wear a coat in Canada?" Elysse laughed, addressing her sister. "I did! She didn’t listen!" Jessie answered, watching as her girlfriend and brother put the luggage in the trunk. "She’s a gentleman," Elysse said, smiling. "You haven’t seen anything yet."
———
Michaele and John Fleming met you with open arms. Literally. The Fleming’s were warm, and inviting, the house smelled like fresh food and slightly of paint. You had all finished eating supper, a meal cooked to perfection by both Jessie’s parents, and were now sitting in the living room.
"I’m so happy you all managed to get time off work and school." Michaele said, pouring you a cup of coffee. "Me too, it’s really nice here." You said, thanking her with a nod for the warm drink. "You haven’t even hiked yet." Jessie told you. "Hiking? It’s too cold to hike." You said, shocked people went outside willingly in this weather. "Is not. In fact, that’s our first activity."
It was known to everyone that Jessie loved order. So when she told you that she had specific activities planned, you weren’t at all suprised.
"Tomorrow morning, 5:00 am, sunrise hike. Then skating on the mountain, then I want to bring you to a really cute coffee shop and show you my elementary school." Jessie said. "5:00 am!" You said, but we’re ignored. "Don’t forget your appointment! You’re getting a nose ring at 5:00 pm tomorrow." Elysse said.
It was true, the youngest Fleming had convinced you to go for it. Worse case scenario, you didn’t like it and let the hole close.
"How could I forget? Just you and me for that one, Els?" You asked her. "Yeah, mum and I are making supper. We’re only here three days." Jessie said.
A few hours later, you went to bed in Jessie’s childhood bedroom. It was surreal being in that are, seeing the trophies, the blue walls, the medals and framed pictures. "What would 14 year old you say if she knew that 24 year old you was lying in this same bed with her girlfriend?" You asked her as she traced patterns on your stomach. "I think she would pass out."
———
As Jessie had said, the next morning she had woken you up at 5:00 am. The whole thing was a blur. You remembered her literally having to dress you, and her telling you to be quiet as you tip toed down the stairs. She had bundled you up in a warm hat, a big winter coat, gloves and a scarf. Your hood was up the second you were out the door. You had fallen asleep in the car, and by the time you were to the mountains, it was almost 6:30.
"You ready baby?" Jessie said, opening the door for you and laughing at your grunt of an answer. You didn’t stay mad for long though, as you saw the still starry winter night peeking through the pine trees. "Oh, Jess. This is beautiful." You told her.
The both of you started your hike. Jessie had her camera with her and was taking pictures of you, and the world surrounding you the whole time you walked up the mountain. The snow was mangeable, due to the trail having been plowed. By the time you arrived at the top of the mountain, the sun was rising. Jessie pulled out a cover from her bag and put it in the snow. You cuddled up next to her, sipping a mocha Jessie had made.
The sky was painted orange, pink, red, yellow and purple, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. Well, second most beautiful thing. Jessie would always be first. "I’m happy you brought me here." you told her, peering into her eyes. "I’m happy you like it here." She answered. "One day, when we retire from football, I wouldn’t mind having a family with you here." You told her, nervous of her answer.
You didn’t meet her eyes, that is until she used her gloved fingers to lift your chin up. "I want that more than anything." Jessie said, kissing you lovingly.
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kelcemenow · 1 year
Text
I'm Happy.
Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader
Words 530
Warnings Nothing crazy here :)
This was a cute little request from an Anon! “Request Travis x famous actress reader Where the reader gets asked by paparazzi where she’s headed to in the airport, and she responds “im on to see me husband” kinda inspired in the Beyoncé TikTok and sagger that the video becomes viral and it’s a thing between the reader and Travis cause then he is asked also where’s his going and responds going to see me wife"
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You pulled your shades over your eyes and tightened your grip on the luggage that you were carrying. You could see a mass of people crowding around the doors at Phoenix Sky Harbour and few arbitrary camera flashes shone in your eyes. Your assistant and best friend Lily followed a few steps behind you, holding onto another one of your bags.
As you approached the crowd, you noticed a mixture of fans and paparazzi all vying for your attention. You smiled sweetly, firstly making a beeline for your fans.
"Oh my God, Y/N, I'm such a huge fan!! Could I have your autograph, please?" A young, bright eyed blonde girl looked up at you with a toothy grin.
You leaned down slightly and hooked your bag onto the crook of your elbow, taking her small blue notebook in your hand and swirling the pen to leave your signature on the paper.
The girl beamed up at you and you moved onto the next fan, posing for a selfie before looking further along the line. A phone was pointing in your direction and the man behind it shouted above the noise, "Y/N, where are you going?"
You looked directly into the camera and smiled, popping your shoulders, "I...am on...to see...my husband." You turned around, flashing the large 87 emblazoned on the back of your bright red bomber jacker.
The action achieved a cheer from the crowd and you continued to dance down the airport, "I'm happy, I'm happy, to see...my husband."
Lily laughed loudly as she followed you, watching the fans going wild.
______________________________________________________________
Travis stepped out of his car, pulling his jacket on and staring up at the large film studio in front of him. As he closed the car door, the sound alerted a handful of paparazzi that were loitering around the studio entrance.
He was used to bumping into paparazzi, especially recently after just winning the Superbowl. He smiled for the cameras, just as he always did, and headed towards the door.
A journalist leaned closely to him and tried to match his walking speed, "Congratulations Mr Kelce, on your Superbowl win. How does it feel to win a second time?"
Travis continued to walk through the parking lot as he spoke, "Honestly, it feels awesome. The whole team have worked hard to get it, and I'm just looking forward to some rest now and spending time with my family."
A voice from the crowd rang out, "Travis, where are you going?"
Travis looked to his feet and smiled, knowing what the photographers wanted. He turned around with a smirk on his lips, starting to shake his hips, "I...am on...to see...my wife!" The cameras flashed wildly as he energetically gyrated his way towards the door, causing the security staff to start laughing. "I'm happy, I'm happy, to see...my wife!"
As Travis opened the door, he turned back and waved to the cameras. He felt your hands on his waist behind him before you raised up onto your tip-toes and pressed a kiss into his cheek. The clicking and flashing increased and Travis turned to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
"That'll be a GIF by this afternoon."
______________________________________________________________
Get your requests in, because I'll be closing requests soon as they're starting to pile up and I don't want to get snowed under with them! I'm really enjoying writing these little short ones too, but I've got a new series in mind so stay tuned! If you want to be on my Taglist, please do let me know!
Taglist @kkrenae @keiva1000
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indiaassist · 9 months
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