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#here have this thing ​is this anything???
cthulhum · 2 days
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does anyone realize how crazy it is to have the actor of a mostly headcanoned queer ship say the fans were never crazy and they were right all along after 10+ years of everyone just absolutely going nuts over the said queerbaited ship
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lucabyte · 2 days
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"So what's the weirdest possible first (second) impression Loop could make on the party in postcanon?" "Yeah, that, probably."
+ Bonus
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theyre just standing there in direct party order while this happens. normal tuesday.
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pucksandpower · 2 days
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Say My Name
Oscar Piastri x streamer!Reader
Summary: when fans mistake Oscar for your ex while he is hanging around in the background of your stream, you get introduced to a side of Oscar that you’ve never seen before
Warnings: 18+ content
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Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you narrate the intense battle unfolding on your stream. “Oh damn, that was close! I almost got sniped there.” You lean in, eyes narrowed at the screen. “Gotta be more careful or this round is over.”
The chat explodes with messages cheering you on. Being one of the top female gaming streamers has its perks, like an incredibly loyal fanbase that hangs on your every word.
You glance at the viewer count — over 50,000 watching live. Not too shabby.
“Okay team, let’s rush B, I’ll try to draw their fire.” You move your character into position, heart pounding with anticipation.
Suddenly, a quiet thump comes from the living room behind you. You start, whipping your head around, but see nothing amiss through the open doorway. Must have been your imagination.
You refocus on the game, calling out tactics to your teammates. Another muffled sound, like something soft hitting the floor, catches your attention. You turn off your video and hit mute on your mic. “Hello? Is someone there?”
No response. You’re just about to unmute when a very familiar face pops into view from the hallway. It’s your boyfriend of nearly two years.
Your face splits into a huge grin as you take in his messy hair and the rumpled clothes he slept in on the flight. “Oscar! You’re back early!”
He crosses to you, bending to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Missed you,” he mumbles against your hair.
You tilt your face up for a proper kiss, “I missed you too, ba-”
But you’re cut off as his lips crash into yours, insistent and heated. Heat blooms in your cheeks at the sudden, passionate embrace. Far too soon, Oscar pulls away, leaving you flustered and breathless.
“Sorry,” he says with a smirk that suggests he’s anything but. “Couldn’t help myself.”
You shake your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous. I’m working, you know.”
“So I noticed.” Oscar settles onto the couch just off-camera, casual as can be. “Don’t mind me, keep going.”
“You sure?” You eye him skeptically. The stream has been on a short period without your commentary and the chat is getting restless. “I can take a break if you want.”
He waves a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m just going to hang out here for a bit. Go ahead.”
Hesitating only a moment, you turn your video back on and unmute your mic. “Alright folks, sorry about that little pause. I, uh, got a surprise visitor.” You gesture vaguely toward where Oscar lounges behind you.
The chat instantly lights up with questions about who was there. Smiling to yourself, you ignore them for now, re-focusing on the game.
Over the next hour, it becomes increasingly difficult to concentrate. Oscar keeps distracting you, making silly faces and gestures whenever you glance his way. More than once you have to stifle a laugh after catching sight of him. Your fans seem to find your giggly mood delightful, though they remain oblivious to the cause.
Finally, in a rare break between matches, you swivel in your chair to face him. “You’re being so disruptive,” you stage-whisper. “Don’t you have better things to do than pester me?”
Oscar feigns innocence. “Who, me? I’m just sitting here, love.”
Rolling your eyes, you stretch your arms overhead with a groan, back popping from sitting so long. Oscar’s gaze shamelessly rakes over you, darkening.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, fighting a smile.
“Like what?” His eyes glint with mischief.
You open your mouth to respond, but a new donation notification pops up on your stream, cutting you off. “Oh, wow, thanks for the ten thousand bits, Legend27!” The expensive donation isn’t that unusual, but the comment attached gives you pause.
I’m so happy you and Eric made up! You two are couple goals for real.
Frowning, you scan the new barrage of messages flooding the chat … and find dozens echoing similar sentiments.
Your stomach drops as you finally realize what your viewers think is happening. They assume Oscar is actually your ex, the one you briefly dated and had an awful breakup with over two years ago. Apparently his surprise appearance has led them to believe you two have reconciled.
Heat floods your face at the misunderstanding. Objecting seems pointless though — you’ve learned it’s better not to discuss your private romantic life on stream. “Ah, thanks guys, you’re too kind,” you finally say, aiming for a neutral tone.
Beside you, Oscar stiffens, catching the implications of the messages. His jaw clenches and you watch as his face cycles through a series of micro-expressions — first surprise, then confusion, quickly followed by displeasure and … jealousy?
Uh oh. This could get messy fast if he gets worked up. You try to subtly shake your head at him in a silent plea to ignore the chat.
No such luck. His brow furrows deeper and you can practically see the tension ratcheting up in his shoulders.
Suddenly, Oscar surges to his feet with a muttered curse. Before you can react, he’s stalking around the side of your chair until he’s directly in view of the camera’s frame.
“Oscar, what are you-”
But he cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you hard. Your startled squeak is smothered by his fierce, possessive mouth moving over yours.
Powerless to resist the onslaught of sensations, you melt bonelessly against him as the kiss stretches on and on. Only the escalating number of notifications showing the shock and exclamations from your viewers finally breaks through the heady fog.
With extreme reluctance, Oscar ends the kiss, both of you panting. He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your flushed skin as he growls, “She’s mine.”
Then, before you can respond, he reaches past you and slams his palm into the power button of your streaming setup, shutting everything down.
The simultaneous howl of outrage from tens of thousands of confused fans cuts off abruptly as the screen goes black. Only the two of you are left in the ringing silence that follows.
“Oscar!” You finally manage. “What was that?”
He pulls away enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his brown eyes blazing with an intensity that steals your breath.
“I got … jealous,” he admits, seeming almost surprised at his own vehement reaction. “When they thought I was your ex. I didn’t like that at all.”
Your expression softens at his uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. Reaching out, you trace his sharp cheekbone with gentle fingers. “You have no reason to be jealous, silly man. It’s only ever been you.”
Some of the blazing heat in his stare banks into smoldering embers at your reassurance. “Yeah?” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Good.”
He leans in again until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. “Because you’re mine, okay? And I’m yours.”
“Yeah,” you breathe out, dizzy with wanting him. “I’m all yours, Oscar.”
The possessive words seem to flip a switch in him. With a low, rumbling sound of approval, his mouth slants over yours once more in a searing, demanding kiss that makes your toes curl.
The abrupt ending to your stream is already causing a social media firestorm of epic proportions. But surrounded by the circle of Oscar’s arms, his familiar warmth and love, you can’t find it in yourself to care even a little bit.
After all, you think dizzily as he deepens the kiss, your fans should have recognized that you two were a couple from the very start — because Oscar Piastri is most definitely not your ex.
He’s your everything.
***
Oscar’s hands are everywhere, seemingly unable to get enough of you as his kisses grow more and more fervent. Your back hits the wall with a gentle thump as he crowds closer, caging you in with the solid warmth of his body.
“Missed you so much, love,” he rasps against the heated skin of your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
A whimper escapes your lips at the scorching path his mouth blazes over your pulse point. “I m-missed you too, Oscar.”
His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he rewards you by sucking a mark into the sensitive spot just below your ear. Pleasure zings along your nerves at the hint of delicious possession in the act.
When he finally pulls back to gaze at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips are reddened from enthusiastic use. The sight sends a molten flare of desire arrowing straight to your core.
“Say it again,” he commands roughly, voice gone low and gritty in that way that never fails to make you melt.
You blink up at him, momentarily lost in a lust-fueled haze. “W-What?”
“My name.” His large hands skim over the curve of your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt. “Say my name again.”
“Oscar,” you breathe without hesitation, watching raptly as his pupils blow wider at the sound. “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...”
Each breathy iteration seems to stoke his hunger hotter. His fingers flex against your sides like he’s holding himself back from something.
On a daring whim, you slant your mouth near his ear, letting your lips brush the shell with every word. “Oscar Piastri,” you practically purr. “My Oscar.”
A broken groan is your only warning before he’s on you again, mouths crashing together in a heated crash of lips, teeth, and tangling tongues. His hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck, angling your face for deeper exploration.
When you finally manage to tear your lips away, you’re both panting harshly, chests heaving. “What’s … gotten into you?” You pant.
Rather than answer, Oscar just shakes his head and dives back in for more fervent kisses, like a man dying of thirst and you’re the most delicious drink he’s ever tasted.
It’s not until he suddenly grips your waist and spins the two of you around, depositing you on the desk with a surprising lack of finesse, that you realize just how wildly affected he is.
Oscar licks into the seam of your lips like he’s staking a claim and something within you shatters at the stark, naked wanting in his eyes when he pulls back the tiniest bit.
He just stares at you, chest heaving, gaze roving hungrily over your features like he’s memorizing you all over again. His pupils are blown wide, just thin rings of molten brown remaining around the black.
When he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly in a way that vibrates through you. “Say. My. Name.”
“Oscar,” you respond immediately, not even having to think. His hungry gaze burns over you and you feel stripped bare and vulnerable under the weight of it.
But rather than make you want to cover up, it has the opposite effect — you’re reeling him in, hands fisted in his shirt to pull him closer. You never want this delirious, frantic sense of possession and desire to end.
“Again,” he grinds out, sounding utterly wrecked already.
“Oscar.” You bare your neck for him as you say it, like presenting an offering. He groans low and deep, instantly ducking to mouth along the column of your throat.
His hands are everywhere, pushing up the hem of your top, kneading along your sides and ribs as he nips and sucks bruising paths across your collarbones and chest.
“Don’t stop saying it,” he orders, more plea than demand.
So you let his name become a breathless prayer falling from your lips, over and over between gasps and keening whimpers. You lose yourself in a heady feedback loop — the more you speak his name with naked wanting, the wilder it seems to drive him until his touch grows scattered and devouring.
At some point his hands finally succeed in tugging your shirt up and off. Your name doesn’t even register when his scorching mouth closes over one peaked bud, your back bowing at the shuddering bolt of sensation that lances through you.
All you can seem to process is the feel of his calloused palms mapping every inch of newly-exposed skin and the desperate mumble of “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...” spilling shameless and endless from your lips.
Eventually, the heated exploration of his mouth and hands becomes too much to simply lay there and take. With a low, guttural sound you haul Oscar upright and swing your legs around his hips, relishing his full body shudder.
“Not enough,” you accuse roughly, rolling your core against his in clear invitation. “Need you closer, Oscar.”
His heated groan at your wanton demand is music to your ears. Strong hands grasp your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist as he surges against you.
“So impatient, my darling girl,” he teases. This close, you can make out the faintest brush of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones that you’ve mapped and memorized with lips and fingertips a hundred times before.
You can’t help but reach out to graze them with your thumb, gazing up at him with naked adoration. “My Oscar,” you murmur reverently.
His eyes slip shut for a beat, jaw ticking as if your words have an unexpectedly profound effect on him. When he opens them again, his gaze is fierce and intent.
“Yours,” he vows simply, leaning in to seal the promise against the plush of your lips.
The kiss is somehow softer and headier than before. You get lost in the lush glide of his mouth, every sliding brush of lip and tongue shorting out whatever rational thoughts remain until all you know is his name — the shape and taste and weight of it against your own.
It’s the only thing that seems real, vital, until at some point Oscar’s mouth leaves yours to trail hot, openmouthed kisses down your chest and stomach and lower still.
Your back bows as you squirm incoherently against the press of his lips and tongue. His restraint seems to have finally snapped, movements growing hungry and rough as he works you steadily higher.
“Oscar,” you sob out his name like you’re breaking apart, pleading for something you can’t quite name. He answers with a rumbling sound of satisfaction that vibrates hotly against your sensitized flesh.
More, is all you can think as he redoubles his efforts.
At some point, you must have arched helplessly off the desk because suddenly his hands are at the small of your back, fingertips digging in hard as he holds you arched for his questing mouth.
The intimate angle of his positioning has your jaw dropping open on a silent scream of overwhelmed pleasure. All that escapes is a strangled gasp of, “Oscar!”
He growls something incoherent against you that might be praise, might be reassurance, might just be your name groaned out roughly in shared bliss. But you honestly can’t tell anymore — you’ve transcended far past coherent speech and rational thought.
Everything has devolved into just sensation and feeling and the endless loop of his name spilling over and over from your lips like a benediction.
Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...
Just when you think you might actually shatter into pieces from the intensity he’s wringing out of you, strong hands are abruptly hauling you up and off the desk in one smooth motion.
You cling to him with heavy limbs, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he staggers the few steps to your shared bedroom. At some point his shirt has vanished, allowing your hands free rein to roam over flexing muscle and heated skin.
When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pauses to claim your mouth in another searing, shattering kiss. He whispers something fervent and intense against your lips, your name perhaps intertwined with endearments or promises.
You can’t be sure. All you know is the shape of his name against your tongue, the only word your mind seems capable of holding onto as he lowers you reverently to the sheets and stretches out over you.
When he finally sinks into you with a harsh groan of relief, your back bows and you let out a broken, high keen — his name once more torn from your lips in breathless ecstasy.
“There you are, that’s it love,” he growls hoarsely as he begins to move, words interspersed between drugging, thorough thrusts. “Let me hear you, let me hear my name on those pretty lips.”
So you do, shamelessly loud and incoherent now as he gradually unravels you from the inside out. His name and gasped pleas and frantic praise all blur together in a continuous stream of blissful delirium.
At some point, his own control seems to splinter apart, hips snapping hard and deep as his pace turns utterly unrestrained. Still, you chase that shattering edge, crying out for Oscar as your whole world narrows to the merciless intensity of his driving thrusts and demanding hands kneading your flesh with staking ownership.
When you finally go soaring over that dizzying peak with his name torn hoarse from your throat, he follows you over almost violently with a ragged shout. Oscar’s arms shake dangerously as he holds his weight off of you, pupils swallowing up the copper of his eyes entirely in onyx pools of spent lust.
As you slowly float back down from that searing high, limbs heavy and sated, you reach up to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. He turns his face into your palm with a shuddering exhale as if grounding himself.
For several long breaths, all that can be heard is your shaky inhales mingling together while your racing heartbeats gradually return to normal.
Finally, Oscar presses a warm, lingering kiss to the center of your palm before shifting to stretch out beside you, his weight dipping the mattress.
You immediately curl into the reassuring heat of him, despite the sweat still cooling along your skin. One of his arms bands around your waist, holding you flush against his side while his other hand comes up to card soothingly through your hair.
Nestling your face into the curve where his shoulder meets his neck, you press a gentle kiss to the hollow of his throat and whisper, “Hi.”
“Hi yourself,” he murmurs back, low and slightly scratchy in the aftermath. You can hear the smile in his voice as his fingers keep carding idly through your hair.
Silence falls again, comfortable and peaceful in the aftermath of your frantic passion, both of you simply basking in the warmth of shared nearness.
Eventually though, the question you’ve been avoiding asking slips out in a hazy murmur. “What brought all … that … on, Oscar?”
He’s quiet for so long, you begin to wonder if he fell asleep. Just when you’re about to shift to look at him though, he speaks up.
“When your fans assumed I was your ex … the way they were celebrating that the two of you got back together ...” His fingers stroke almost absentmindedly through your hair as he pauses. “I dunno, something in me just .. .snapped a little. Seeing them say over and over how perfect he was for you ...”
He trails off with a low chuckle, and you can’t resist craning your neck to glance up at him curiously. When your eyes meet his, his expression is rueful.
“I couldn’t stand the thought of any other name on your lips, love. Even your own.” His fingertips trace the line of your jaw with unbearable tenderness. “All I wanted was for you to say my name like that — like it’s the only word that matters in the entire world.”
Just like that, a fresh ember of want rekindles low in your belly at the slightly awed honesty in his voice. You exhale a shaky breath, searching his stormy gaze for … what? Evidence of how crazily affected you are by such a simple revelation?
Whatever he finds reflected in your stare seems to give him pause as well because his eyes almost immediately darken with renewed hunger.
“Say it again then,” he husks, rolling until he’s leaned over you, hands planted on either side of your head. There’s no demand in the words, just low, thrumming need thrilling between you both.
So you reach up to cup his face in your palms, rubbing your thumbs over the sandpapery stubble along his strong jawline as you gaze adoringly up at him.
“Oscar ...” you breathe out his name like a sacred invocation. “My Oscar.”
His eyes slip shut and he makes a low, ragged sound of pure satisfaction on an exhale that ghosts across your lips.
“Yeah,” he rasps, bending lower until his forehead rests against yours. “That’s it, love … that’s all I ever want to hear.”
You pull him back down to you then, unable and unwilling to resist sealing the promise of those words against his lips with your own.
And as everything inevitably dissolves into heat and need and formless ecstasy once more, you lose yourself to the endless chant of his name on your lips — your entire world whittled down to just that one exalted word, over and over and over.
Because really, what other name could ever matter when Oscar Piastri is the only name you’ll ever need?
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cute-sucker · 3 days
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note: thank you @.princessbrunette for creating boxer!rafe !!
˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.
you clutched the pregnancy test, clammy hands shaking as you felt more scared than ever. rafe was still in his match, and you- you were forbidden from coming to his matches. the last time you came his opponent had made a pass at you after rafe brutally beat him. 
the guy plummeted to the ground before he could utter another word, and rafe decided that enough was enough. so he sat you down, in your little cameo shorts and baby white tee. your thick lashes battered as he tried to come out the truth. the two of you were in the completely vacant locker room. 
"listen, kid, i don't think you should come to my matches anymore," he said gently, as you gripped his arm. you had a sweet expression on your face before you heard what he had said - quickly wilting as you frowned at him. before you could open your mouth he had already cupped your face as softly as he could.
his hands were rough and warm on your face, you could smell the brutality on them, yet you felt yourself at ease in his embrace. you could never admit it - but rafe had some control over you that you could never explain. 
"i know you're going to say it's your calling," he quipped, leaning in closer. his hot breath fanned your neck, as his mouth nipped at your cheek, "but baby i don't think this place is good for you." you felt yourself unwind and opened your mouth to blubber something. 
you finally gasped out, "but i wanna see you!" 
he groaned, steady hand moving down to your waist. there was an amused expression on his face, but he stayed firm. 
"rafe? please." 
"no."
that was it. so you got another job, and later on, rafe told you to stay at tanyhill with him. you were overjoyed that you would get to see him more and that he was being so gracious. all the girls in the ring had told you he was a playboy and nothing more than that. and you would never tell rafe but it was nice not being a ring girl. sure it was a way to get money fast, but your thighs ached from the amount of times you shined and plucked them.
but it wasn't just that. it was also the dark humid lights that dawned upon you, and trotting while people eyed you like a piece of meat. and now, you felt free, and while rafe would never understand why you chose it - you were a waitress. 
the owner, delany liked you, so she didn't give you a hard time about anything. it was a cafe where time seemed to slow and it was as if nothing could go wrong. you got up early in the morning, giving rafe a goodbye kiss while he was in bed as he groaned about you leaving so early. you took life at strides. things were great. 
but here it was. a sign that maybe everything was going to go to shit. be fine. your heartbeat quickened and you could barely breath - that was when you knew it was going to be bad. you could barely imagine yourself pregnant. 
how old were you? 25? yeah, that was too young and quite frankly did rafe even want a baby? sure he mentioned it sometimes, when you went to baby showers and cooed a baby clothes. but would he-? it was another mouth to feed and god you didn't know if you could support that. rafe, sure, but if he left you? and it was an actual human being to love.
finally, you found yourself rushing out of the bathroom. you had to tell him now, as your heart was on fire, and your hands were stinging. quickly you gathered your stuff and headed over to delany. 
"i have to go." 
˚❀༉‧₊˚.
the ring was the same as usual. the same musty smell, and that feeling of everything being possible. you weren't recognised - though you did see a couple of familiar faces in the crowd. but you weren't here to chit-chat. 
urgency drummed through your veins as you found rafe. 12:35. it was almost time for his first match, and you couldn't dump on him like that. no, you really could there was this feeling. this feeling that ran through you like wildfire as you stumbled to him. 
he looked good, better than good, but he looked alarmed as you twisted yourself around his body. 
"hey, hey kid," he laughed at you furiously hugging his middle, "i love that you're here but i told you about visiting me, didn't i? we had this conversation-" he was stopped right there as you kissed him, cupping his face. he was out of breath, pupils dilated when it finally set in. 
maybe he saw the way you sweet doe eyes were welling up with tears, or the way you swayed in his arms as if he let you go you could crumble, or the way you were trying to mouth words, but nothing was coming out of your mouth. he furiously swore under his breath, and pulled you along with him - you followed like a puppy. 
the dim lights of the corner he had pulled you in soothed your state. no longer did your skin ich, but your head still pounded. rafe looked down at you with a worried expression, as he rubbed your back. you were still holding on to him, wide-eyed. 
"hey?" he snapped his fingers, "can't be doing that here. not right now. what's wrong?" he asked harshly, and you shook your head, completely nonverbal. he raised a hand through his buzzed hair, concern evident in his eyes. whenever you got like this- which was never he had to remind himself to be gentle. 
finally, he dropped himself, voice quiet. he didn't care if people saw him like this- all vulnerable. "sweets are you okay?" he probed again. finally with trembling hands, you reached out into your bag to get the pregnancy test- and broke into tears. the two double lines spread fear throughout his heart. 
rafe had changed. that was a fact, he no longer was plagued by his fathers words as much as before. but could he be a father? suddenly he looked down at you, wispy lashes wet, and doe eyes pleading. suddenly, he felt something blossom in his heart. he imagined you running around in tannyhil, round with his kid. you would be wearing a pretty sun dress, as laughter rang through you. 
finally, he closed his eyes, "it's gonna be okay." 
you seemed to take that as a bad sign, gasping out muffled words, "no, rafe, i didn't know what was going to happen, please-" your hand reached out for his, hoping that things were going to be okay. 
rafe was still looking at the test, as he closed and opened his mouth before shaking his hand, "we're gonna get married, all right? yeah, and i want you to stay here with me. 'cause i need you here." he said tapping your head. there was a watery smile on your face, as you jumped into his arms. 
he held you tightly, and you sniffed. before letting go of him to look into his eyes. it was at that moment that you realised how much he loved you. when he's staring at you like you are his world, and his steel eyes are soft. when his eyes are welling up with tears. 
"just really happy and shit," he chuckled, "i can't believe this," he murmured out before pressing his lips on yours. finally, he pulled apart from you, still gazing into your eyes. 
 "you should go," you found yourself whispering out "it's time for your match." yet your hand found a deathly hold on him.
you saw him smile, and give you a peck on the lips, "want you to watch, 'kay? i'm fighting this match for you," and then his hands travelled down to your stomach, "you and baby." 
dazed you watched him step up into the ring and sighed. if this was love, you'd fight for it any day. 
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ahundredtimesover · 2 days
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I Want You to Stay (12) | 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; mentions of childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; mention of past experience of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts, business/property devt, and book talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; sexual content (18+)
Chapter Word count: 24.7k
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: Hiii so this took a while but thank for being patient and showing so much love! This might sting a bit but I hope you enjoy it. We're close to the end so don't lose hope! 🤭🤭
And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰
PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!
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There’s a kind of pain you don’t want to experience, one of a broken heart caused by someone you’ve given your all to. This doesn’t feel like that, but it’s close. 
It’s so damn close that you feel your chest tightening, the unfamiliar feeling of loss of a person you never even had overwhelming you. You press your palms on your ears to block the sound of your heart breaking, but even that doesn’t do anything.
You let go, your fingers now shaking as you type away. Jungkook has asked you to send him your resignation letter so he can forward it to HR for documentation. It’s like saying goodbye to him all over again, and it doesn’t hurt any less.
This is all on you though, you remind yourself. Wanting him was wrong in the first place - he’s your boss, the man who pays you, who needs you so he could do his job, so you could make his life easier. But he’s also the son of the man that your family is indebted to; a man who, in a lot of ways, shaped the way you approach life and determine what you want out of it. Jungkook stands as a reminder of who you are and where you came from, of the childhood you had, and the decisions you made to get to where you are now. You let your guard down and let him in, and you let yourself fall for a man whose own past was always going to intertwine with yours. 
You don’t know what you were thinking, kissing him and believing that things would fall into place. That was the thing - he kissed you and you kissed him back, a moment of weakness that you had no business having, as if almost doing it the first time wasn’t bad enough. You planned on leaving, and you hoped that you’d get to tell him on your own terms, that you’d have time to process your feelings and then explain yourself to him, that you’d be able to process his feelings and see the sincerity in them. 
But life doesn’t always play out the way you want to, and you can keep thinking that people would react the way you hope they would but you’re human. You fell into his touch and wanted so much of it that you couldn’t think properly. He asked you to stay - expected it actually, which is the last thing you wanted him to do. 
And now you’re left here with a lot of emotions that you don’t know what to do with - all conflicting, all overwhelming, and all seemingly out of your control. 
You can’t deny what you feel for Jungkook. The thought that he feels the same should be something you welcome, but with how you both learned about it, and with him now knowing the secret you’ve been keeping, it’s hard to think how you both could move forward without those feelings of doubt, perhaps of distrust. You know enough that those aren’t good starting points for any relationship. 
You’re doing what you have to do. Resigning was always the plan, but doing it this way wasn’t. You also didn’t expect you’d be leaving so much more than just a team you enjoy being a part of and a boss you’ve come to admire, a man who’s come to mean a lot of things to you. 
And so even if this is the decision you’ll make every single time, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you to be making it. Perhaps it’s now just dawning on you that you’re truly walking away from this job, and that may mean walking away from, too. This is when you realize just how big that loss is gonna be.
Jungkook made you braver. He made you feel understood and less alone. He showed you that beautiful things do exist, that you can capture them so you could hold onto the good memories, and doing that is one way to move on from the things that hurt. 
Without realizing it, he’d become the person you were willing to crawl out of your walls for. But just like him, maybe your timing wasn’t right either. No matter how strong the feelings are, something just happens to be more important than being with him - feeling free is one, knowing that you’re able to do this for yourself is another. There’s wanting sincerity, too, on his end and on yours.
You know you need time to sort yourself out, to know what you want outside of all this, but the way he goes on about his business is affecting you more than you expected. He’s essentially giving you two weeks to stay in the office. He’s having Lucas fly in immediately. The implications are breaking you even more - perhaps you’ll be kept out of the projects; maybe you’ll no longer do your morning routines with him. 
Perhaps he’s still overwhelmed about everything he knows. And perhaps he’s realizing he doesn’t want that complication in his life anymore. Maybe he doesn’t want to deal with you and the mess you created, given all the stress and pressure he’s under. 
Maybe you were that easy to let go, too.
The thought feels like a slap on the face. 
But you’re the foolish one who wanted to leave but who also hoped he’d go after you. He didn’t do it last Friday. He’s not going to do that now. You doubt that after your last day, he would do it either. 
The tears dance around your eyelids. Everything becomes blurry, and after the first one falls, you stand from your desk and head to the washroom. You give yourself just 10 minutes to silently cry. You hadn’t prepared for this enough, and now the thought of saying goodbye to the team and leaving Jungkook during a big project launch weighs heavily on you. 
You calm yourself down, thinking that if you’d chosen to delay it, everything else would be harder - seeing him, being close to him, knowing you both feel the same way but not knowing if that’s enough. Or if it’s real.
You get to be selfish this time and leave for your own reasons. You get to choose which heartbreak you’ll face and for how long you’ll feel it. You get to decide which burdens you’ll carry and what you’re walking away from. 
The team will understand. You’ll give your all for the next few weeks you’ll be around and make sure that Lucas guides them well. Hoseok will be supportive. You know that he’ll always encourage you to go where you’re happiest. You just hope he won’t carry any guilt for being one of the reasons why you stayed now that he knows the truth. CEO Jeon might still ask you to wait, or he might just not want to see you again if he knows what really happened with his son, and that’s something you’ll have to learn to deal with as well. You don’t want to think you’re burning bridges with this decision, but you also know that those who truly care would want this for you, too.
But despite all that, the guilt and the sadness don’t go away. You’d once thought you could be happy with Jungkook. He’d given you a peek into a life where you could be, and he’d given you a taste of what it’s like to feel that all-consuming desire for someone. You don’t know if you’ll have that or feel that again for another person, but you at least now know what you’re searching for. 
Maybe you’ll get over yourself and find the words to tell him what you feel or hope for both of you. Maybe you’ll find your way back to each other someday. You might also have to face the possibility that this decision is what pulls you apart for good, and the thought breaks your heart again.
You take a deep breath and close your eyes. You think of the comfort of your morning routines and the shared silence. You think about the warmth you felt from all the food he’d sent when you were sick and injured. You think about that night you felt brave because he’d been with you when you were scared. You think about the tranquility of being in his presence as you gazed at the mountains and felt free being outdoors. You think about feeling understood during the times when you’d been honest and so had he. 
These are the good memories he gave you, the ones you’ll hold onto as you go through all this. You wonder if he keeps them in a nook in his heart the way you do, and if he’ll hold onto them as well as you walk away from him and from what you could’ve been. 
The thoughts are enough to suspend your sadness for a while. You fix yourself up and while it wasn’t a big cry, your slightly swollen eyes could still give you away. You decide it’s not much of a problem. Until, of course, when you make it back to your desk, about to sit down to resume your tasks, and Jungkook opens his door and locks eyes with you. 
There’s a moment where you hold each other’s gazes, and you see his face fall a little, softening briefly before he looks away, the seriousness coming back again. He attempts to say something but he stops, looking down at the papers he’s holding instead and asks you to photocopy them for distribution to the team.
You nod in confirmation, and as you’re about to walk out, Hoseok shows up.
“Are you free?” He asks Jungkook. “I need to run some things with you.”
“Sure,” Jungkook replies, glancing at you before walking back to his room.
Hoseok finally turns to you and sees your glassy eyes. His face falls, unsure how to comfort you during this time. He was never sure how to do that before, and he feels heavier thinking that so many times when you still worked for him, you probably wanted to quit but couldn’t. And that maybe his claims of needing you around to help him helped keep you here, in a place that wasn’t giving you that joy and satisfaction that you deserve. 
“___,” he calls out. “I got the notice. How are you feeling?”
“Well, I see that word travels fast,” you giggle, an attempt to avoid a somber conversation. You also don’t know how to explain whatever it is you’re feeling so it’s not something you’re keen on addressing.
“HR was actually the one that informed me and uncle,” he explains. “Losing you is a big deal so they thought to let us know right away. And I only mean that because you’re an integral part of this company. And you… you matter to my family. You matter to me, and I know you matter to him.”
Hoseok gestures towards Jungkook’s direction, prompting you to look away. The man in front of you sighs and apologizes, adding that you’ve come to mean so much to the people he cares for, including his wife. 
“You welcomed me to your family, Hoseok,” you respond. “You and A-yeong treated me like one and I always will be. But none of the sadness yet. I’ll still be here for the next month.”
“I’ll take my time in saying goodbye then,” he says, his genuine smile serving as the comfort you badly need. “And I hope it’s not for good.”
“Not to you,” you assure him. “I’m not that easy to get rid of.”
“Good,” he says, his eyes softening in understanding and acceptance. “I’ll just meet with Jungkook. I’ll catch up with you soon, okay?”
“Okay,” you say. “And uh, thank you.” 
Your smile holds in it a lot of emotions for the man who’s become your friend all these years. And you know that whatever happens with Jungkook, Hoseok will always be a person you’ll treasure.
You walk out while he enters the room and closes the door. 
Jungkook’s eyebrows are scrunched as he gives instructions over the phone while also typing on his desktop. Hoseok can sense the stress and tension all over his cousin, and he hopes that especially with this, the younger man finds it in him to talk about what he’s feeling. There’s fear that he’ll keep it all to himself again, and in doing so, he might just push you away even more.
“Hey, how are you holding up?” Hoseok asks after the call ends.
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Jungkook huffs.
There’s a beat of silence before Hoseok speaks again. “So, you already have a replacement for ___, huh?” He says, having just heard Jungkook’s conversation about Lucas’ work visa requirements over the phone. “Isn’t that too fast?”
“The Arts Center launch is in a couple of weeks. I can’t have delays,” Jungkook explains. “Sending Lucas here will require less time than looking for a new assistant. He’s familiar with the project and he’s used to working for me so he can take over with the preparations. I’ve received father’s approval for his transfer.”
“What about ___, then?”
“What about her?” Jungkook asks bitterly. “She’s resigned. I’ll have her focus on turning everything over and documenting key projects and practices. She has vacation leaves to use up for the last month she’s here.”
“Just like that?” Hoseok questions. “She resigns today and then you’ve gotten everything sorted out for her departure, just like that? As if you can’t wait for her to leave?”
“She wanted this,” Jungkook counters. “You heard what Mr. Ri said. She’s been wanting to do this for years, and I’m just making sure she’s not bothered by what she’s leaving behind. Having Lucas here will assure her that the team will continue to function and that she’s not delaying anything by deciding to leave. She doesn’t have to worry about anything.”
And it’s the truth. Hearing what you went through and that you’d thought of resigning several times before makes Jungkook think that you haven’t been happy here for a long while. He’s unsure if you’d always planned on leaving before the Arts Center launch, or if what happened last Friday prompted you to do this now. But still, it seemed so easy for you to make the decision, as if you can’t wait to leave him, as if being around him hurts you that much, as if you know that whatever it is you’re looking for isn’t here. 
Jungkook spent all of last weekend replaying that night in his mind - from the way you pulled him close to you and to the way his heart broke when you pulled away. He doesn’t know what you want from him. You kissed him as if you wanted him. He felt your desire as your hands danced around his chest, as you moaned against his lips, as you thrusted against him like you wanted more, and he would’ve given it all to you, he would’ve given you everything, but the words he’d never told anyone slipped from his mouth and somehow, that’s what made you create that distance. 
Perhaps it’s what made you not want to stay. 
But he wouldn’t have known because he didn’t ask. At the thought of you no longer being by his side, he faltered. At the thought of losing the routine you’ve both created and the comfort you’ve been giving him everyday, he caved in. He lost all sense and just wanted to keep you. He’d disregarded every rule, crossed every boundary he created, and thought of nothing else but to be with you. He made the mistake of not thinking about you, the person he wants. 
He naively believed that your expression of desire meant that nothing else mattered - you’d be with him regardless. But he realized that maybe he doesn’t know you at all. He would’ve risked everything but maybe you wouldn’t. You make him happy and that’s all he cares about but maybe he’s not enough for you. He’d do anything to be with you everyday but maybe that’s not what you want. 
The thought that that moment made you realize that maybe, he’s not what you wanted after all creates another crack in his heart. That cold, stubborn heart of his hasn’t felt much in years but it betrayed him this time. It called out for you and he’s afraid to find out that it still will, after everything. 
“Have you spoken to her?” Hoseok pulls him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah,” Jungkook replies. “I gave her my recommendation letter, told her about Lucas replacing her, and that she still has leaves to take.”
“I meant about both of you,” Hoseok clarifies. “About what you both feel, about what that means and what happens after that.”
“What is there to talk about?” Jungkook groans. “She left me that night. I come here today with a resignation letter on my desk. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t want you,” Hoseok says. 
“It doesn’t mean she does,” Jungkook counters. “Clearly, her happiness outside of this company is her priority. And it should be. She doesn’t have a reason to stay here anymore.”
“And what if that happiness could include you? Did you even think about that?”
“Then she could’ve said that if she wanted to. It was her decision, it was her call.”
“You think it’s that easy to say that? Then why don’t you go ahead and tell her what you feel and want?”
“I did!” Jungkook almost yells now, thankful for the thick walls of this room. “And she pulled away! She said she couldn’t do this, that she couldn’t do this with me. That tells me everything I need to know, Hoseok. Whatever she feels for me isn’t that strong. I was stupid to believe an overheard conversation. I heard that she liked me and I thought, all I had to do was tell her that I felt the same way. But it wasn’t enough. I asked her to stay and she said she couldn’t. I don’t matter to her. Not in the way that she matters to me.”
“Why did she cry, then?” Hoseok asks. “Did you notice that?”
Of course Jungkook did. He’s seen you cry a few times, a sight he never wants to see again, and seeing your puffy eyes earlier made him want to just forget everything and hug you so he could help make the hurt go away. It’s something he’s wanted to do before and there’s a reason why he never did. Today, he knew that doing so would make it harder for him. So all he could do was look away.
“She wouldn’t be that upset if all this didn’t matter to her. If you didn’t matter that much to her,” Hoseok adds.
“This job mattered to her, too. You and I know how she works. Maybe there’s guilt or worry that she’s leaving at this critical time, which is why I’m trying to make the transition easy,” Jungkook reasons. “She’s leaving a lot of things and people behind and that could be hard for anyone. She’s crucial to the team but I don’t want there to be anything else that would hold her back. Not anymore.”
“But all these arrangements… it’s as if it’s so easy to replace her,” Hoseok sighs. “Are you even giving yourself time to just process all of this?”
“And then what? Give myself time to realize again that I can’t do this without her? I already know that I can’t, I can’t replace her, not in any way but I…” Jungkook heaves. “I can’t give in to those feelings and end up asking her to reconsider her decision. She has a life to live outside of this but this is mine. I have a project to launch, a name to uphold…”
A broken heart to live with, he doesn’t say. 
“I don’t know what else to do but this,” he adds, his head bowing down as he pinches the corners of his eyes. He’s just trying to deal with losing you in more than one way, and trying to maintain whatever professionalism he has left after everything.
Hoseok sighs as he watches his cousin stop himself from falling apart. It’s true that everything feels so sudden. Perhaps for you, the best decision you could make after what happened last Friday is to leave and he wouldn’t fault you for that, especially after what you gave up to be here. And maybe Jungkook is just trying to deal with that pain of losing you as his assistant and the possibility of more in the way that he knows how - distance, detachment. It’s how the younger man has always chosen to deal with things he can’t control, and as someone who’s seen him try to move on from his own past, it’s hard for Hoseok to stand by and watch Jungkook hurt this way when he knows that you care about him, too. 
It wasn’t always obvious, but at one point, Hoseok started to notice things; he just never questioned them. You were always competent. When you were his assistant, you paid attention to every detail and made sure that he was always at his best. But this past year, Hoseok had seen you pay attention to Jungkook in a more meaningful way. He’d seen you care for the younger man, showed him kindness that no one’s bothered to do before. And that’s done so much for him as he learned to open himself up, to allow himself to feel a different kind of vulnerability, to feel like he could be himself again, and that he’ll be accepted for all the scared and flawed parts of him. 
All Hoseok can do is at least help his cousin be honest about what he feels and help him not lose you completely. But much as he wants to figure this out with Jungkook, life continues, and right now, there are some executive decisions both men have to make. So he redirects the conversation, and it’s half an hour later when they come up with a policy statement that they send to CEO Jeon as instructed. 
That’s at least one other important thing that Jungkook can tick off his list. He’s determined to just focus on all work matters for today, hoping that would keep his mind off of you. 
But that’s impossible when you still have a role to play in his life, as you enter his room after Hoseok exits, avoiding the older man’s worried gaze. You glance at Jungkook just once, placing a folder of documents on his desk for his signature. 
He’s past the second of a dozen pages when he speaks, his eyes glued to the papers, not wanting to look at your face.
“I intend on telling the team about your resignation during tomorrow’s meeting,” he says. “I’ll release the company-wide announcement on Wednesday, followed by an email to other partners and contacts. The Arts Center launch is happening in a few weeks and we can’t have delays, so I’ll be endorsing Lucas soon after.”
“I understand, Mr. Jeon,” you say, trying to stabilize your voice. “If you need me to draft anything—”
“There’s no need, I will do that.”
“That’s noted, sir.”
You remain standing in front of him, watching him go through each page and feeling like you could burst any moment. Somehow he seems like that man you met almost a year ago - focused yet detached, close but so far away. 
“You’re also no longer required to come to my apartment every morning,” he continues. “I’ll only need you to come on Thursday so you could give Lucas your access and brief him about the building and where things are. Mr. Ri could still drive you to work until your last day.”
“That service was extended to me for the purpose of assisting you every morning, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your voice sounding firm this time. “That is no longer necessary.”
You see him stop his movements for a second before he resumes and nods in acknowledgment of your statement. 
As you watch him sign the last few pages, you allow yourself a brief moment to wish that you’d just left much sooner, during a time when he wasn’t around so you didn’t have to feel this agonizing pain of him slowly slipping away. Everytime you remind yourself that you made this decision, you’re pulled back by the thought that leaving didn’t have to mean that you’d lose him completely. 
But with the way he acts now, with how he’s distancing himself from you and everything you shared, you’re starting to think that maybe he’s decided on this, too - that this is goodbye and that there’s nothing for both of you after this. It’s a hard pill to swallow but one you suppose you should - this was your call and you didn’t give him a choice in the matter. Perhaps this is his way of dealing with your departure as well. That’s something you can’t fault him for doing. 
That leaves you with no choice but to deal with the pain, too. You don’t know exactly how. You’ve never really gone through this before. All your breakups didn’t hurt like this, probably because you knew from the beginning that they would end anyway, that you wouldn’t care more than you planned. 
But Jungkook is different. You didn’t expect him to be the one you’d care for, that you’d yearn for, that you’d want with all of you. But you watch on as he slips right through your fingers, and whatever hope you had of finding your way back to him in the future withers away. This is how you lose him, and you’ll try hard to keep only the good memories with you. 
He finishes signing the papers then he hands them over to you, his eyes only briefly meeting yours. He turns towards his desktop but he speaks again.
“HR requires me to have an exit interview with you,” he says. “But due to our personal circumstances, I don’t think that’s appropriate. I’ve asked Hoseok to conduct it instead. You may just schedule it with him within the next week. You’ll also be provided with a list of all the things you need to submit for your clearance. Just let me know what you need from me and I’ll work on it right away.”
It takes a while for you to respond, as you notice him slowly look your way. 
“Understood, sir,” you manage to say, so softly like a breath, even you could barely hear yourself. 
But the words come out, almost emotionless now as you just take in all his instructions. You gave him your letter only a few hours ago and now he’s got everything organized for your departure, almost as if he wants the complication, that is you, dealt with immediately. 
You’ve disrupted his routine and messed up a lot of his plans. He’s always said he hates change, and you’ve caused one of the biggest ones he’s ever had to deal with. You don’t blame him for not wanting to do anything with you anymore. 
You nod and head out, knowing that you’re slowly losing your place in his life, even as his assistant. He doesn’t call for you the rest of the day, even for coffee. You’re tempted to knock on his door and ask if there’s anything else he needs for you to do before you clock out, but you decide against it, slowly feeling like you’re no longer welcome. 
You mindlessly walk out the building and down the street, feeling the weight of everything drag you down. You’d thought that finally doing this would make you feel liberated, like you’d be relieved of your burdens and even of a secret that you no longer have to keep. But as the minutes pass by, everything is just getting heavier and heavier. Your heart doesn’t loosen up, either. 
And as you stare at the barely eaten sujebi from your favorite noodle house and the piece of choco pie that you bought from the convenience store that you now have no appetite to eat, you feel yourself falling apart. You don’t know what you were expecting but it wasn’t this. You hated doubting Jungkook’s sincerity about what he felt but now you’re faced with his seeming apathy. It makes you wonder once more if he really felt anything for you, or if he just mistook his practical need for you as something more.
Maybe you’ll never know. At this point, he’s just your boss who’s running a company and preparing to launch the biggest project of his life. All you can do is respect that and support him the best way you know how. If it’s distance he wants, then it’s what you’ll give. You suppose it’s the most you could do for him after making the decision to walk away. 
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Sitting in the meeting room the next day with the management support team chatting around you is a little unnerving. You try to engage with them and put on a smile that doesn’t feel real. The nervousness and guilt slowly creep in, especially when Jungkook arrives and orders for the meeting to begin. 
“Before we start, I’d just like to make an important announcement,” he says, quieting everyone down as he sounds serious. “Ms. Cho has tendered her resignation and will be leaving the company in a month. I wanted to tell the team immediately so we could all work on the necessary adjustments. Lucas, my assistant during my time in Singapore, will be replacing her. I made this decision with the approval of the CEO to ensure a smooth transition. His first day will be on Thursday.”
In the silence, you look up, afraid of how the team is taking it. Manager Lee and Chin-sun have a mix of sadness and acceptance on their faces. Yohan has his head bowed down. And Do-hyun sits there, silently crying. 
“Do you… do you not like us anymore?” She mumbles through her sniffles. 
“Of course I do,” you say, your eyes softening. “It’s not about that.”
“Then what is it?” She asks. “Why… why are you leaving us? Why are you leaving Mr. Jeon?”
“I…” you start, looking at him for approval, and he nods as if to say that you’re free to say whatever you want to say. “I’ve been here for a while. This job is all I know and the years just flew right by. I feel like a new environment and a change of pace would do me good.”
Chin-sun turns to you, her look of understanding giving you the comfort that you need. She told you once that you deserve to live a life outside of work, that you need to find yourself and what makes you happy, and that she knows what that could mean. You’ve always looked up to her and how she’s handled everything in her life with such grace, and seeing her give you that nod of encouragement tells you that she gets it, and that despite the doubt that’s slowly crept in, she’s that hand on your shoulder, saying that you’re doing the right thing. 
“Do you have to go this soon?” Do-hyun asks, her voice so unusually soft that it makes you feel like crying, too.
“I had initially planned on resigning after the Arts Center launch,” you say, the words hitting Jungkook as you see the way he clenches his jaw. “But the company I’ll be moving to requested for my start to be in two months. It’s too good of an opportunity to pass up on, so I decided to leave early.”
It’s not a complete lie. You had emailed Namjoon last night and inquired if the production officer position is still open. He responded right away to say that it is, and that he’s been hoping for you to officially apply, so you did. He insisted that based on your resume and your mindset and approach to work that he’s picked up from your conversations, the role is meant to be yours. He scheduled an interview in the next two weeks during your forced leave - for formalities’ sake, he told you - and you can start next quarter.
“I’m just… I’m just really sorry that I’m leaving in the midst of all the preparations,” you add, your nails sinking in your skin once more as you try to deal with guilt. “Things just happened so fast and I had to make decisions right away.”
“We’re gonna be okay,” Chin-sun assures you now. “You and Mr. Jeon trained us well. You, especially. We’ve been working together for over four years and I may have been in this longer but I’ve learned so much from you, ___. This breaks my heart more than you know but I’m proud of you, and I’m happy for you. I can at least say on behalf of the team that we don’t want this decision to burden you. You’ve held the fort for everyone for so long, you deserve to pursue whatever makes you happy.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, feeling the words getting caught in your throat as you try to keep yourself from breaking down. 
Chin-sun isn’t always this sentimental, so you know it means just as much to her that she’s able to say these things to you.
“I agree with her,” Manager Lee says. “It’s gonna be different and definitely hard but the team will manage. You’ve given this company so much, and I know that wherever you’ll go, they’ll be so lucky to have you. Just… just don’t forget about us, okay?”
“Never,” you assure the team this time. 
“Remember when I was being stubborn and didn’t want to go to the hospital when I was sick?” Yohan speaks up, looking at you now with glassy eyes. “You took half the day off so you could drag me there and then visited me everyday after work when I was confined for a week. The doctor said things would’ve been worse if I’d gone there even just a day late.”
You remember that incident clearly. It was the month before Jungkook arrived. The entire team was busy preparing everything but you noticed that Yohan looked unwell, and you insisted on taking him to the hospital so he could get checked and you’re glad you did. You can’t imagine how things would’ve turned out if you hadn’t.
“I was trying hard to keep it in because I didn’t want to be a burden,” he continues. “But you noticed, you always do. And I’ll always be thankful. Chin-sun may be my wise auntie but you’re my ever dependable older sister and I’ll miss you so much. No one can calm me down the way you do, and no one will tell me and Do-hyun off when we’re being whiney or ungrateful. I just hope that whatever you do brings you all the peace and happiness you deserve.”
At his words, Do-hyun sobs. Covering her face, she mumbles onto her palms, muffling her words that you can’t understand. She briefly looks up at you, pouting as she catches her breath, and then she cries again. Even when she’s being emotional, her child-like way of showing it is every bit endearing. 
You remember the first time you met her, a brilliant fresh graduate with so much passion and energy. She was a little too bubbly for you at the beginning. She was always curious and lacked filter most of the time. But you got to know her genuine heart, one that often sought you, that wanted to get your approval, that hoped you’d return the affection she always gave you. She was like that bratty little sister that you enjoyed looking after, and seeing her be affected this way is affecting you more than you expected. You can’t make out what she’s saying, but you’re pretty sure that they’d make you cry either way. 
And that’s what you’re trying hard not to do, as you bite your lips to stop them from shaking, hoping you won’t break down in front of them, especially in front of Jungkook.
Chin-sun comforts Do-hyun who’s calming down a bit now. Manager Lee and Yohan wipe their eyes. It’s a little too quiet, and you know they’re waiting for you to say something, too. Wanting to return their honesty, you start, trying to find the words that would capture everything you feel.
“You all know how much of myself I give to this job,” you start, your lips trembling as you try to get it together. “And from the beginning, I thought I would just come to work, do what I have to do, go home, and do it all over again. It’s the corporate world and we’re just trying to survive. You were all supposed to be just colleagues, people I had to just tolerate but that’s clearly not what happened. Without meaning to, you’ve all become such a big part of my life, more than I can ever express.”
You glance at Jungkook, hoping that he knows it includes him, but you see him clench his jaw and look away, and at this point, you don’t expect him to believe anything else you say, no matter how much you mean them. 
“I know I’ve never been good at accepting and especially returning your affection,” you continue. “I’ve missed out on a lot of post-work dinners and weekend get-togethers. I’ve just, uh, I’ve just never been good at mixing work with my personal life. But even then, you never took it against me. You keep up with all versions of me, you encourage me when things get hard, and you never fail to let me know that I’m doing a good job. And that’s done so much for me more than you know.”
You take in deep breaths as you feel your tears dance around your eyes, and you blink to let them fall then quickly wipe them away.  
“We’ve gone through so much together and I’ll always treasure all those moments and everything we shared,” you manage to say. “Leaving doesn’t change anything. At least, I hope it doesn’t.”
“Not to us,” Chin-sun assures you. “You’ll always be a part of this team.”
You mirror her smile, hoping your gratitude gets across.
The clearing of throat catches everyone’s attention, and you turn to Jungkook, remembering that you’re all gathered today for a meeting, and not some sentimental goodbye that’s turned into a cry-fest. You doubt he’d want to be around for this, so you apologize and say that he can continue on with the agenda.
“It slipped my mind that I have a call with one of the artists that Mr. Saito introduced me to,” Jungkook answers, looking at his phone then turning back to the team. “It’s in 10 minutes. We can resume tomorrow morning. It’s close to lunch anyway so you can all have your break.”
The whole team nods in acknowledgement. Except for you. He doesn’t have any scheduled calls today, as he was adamant on having this meeting done as soon as possible. He would have remembered if that call was that important and if it wasn’t, you know he wouldn’t have rescheduled this because making all the arrangements for your departure seems to be his top priority. 
You suspend the thought, knowing that dwelling on how much he’s distancing himself from you will take away from the moment you shared with your team. Right now, they’re who matter. Jungkook had always insisted he wasn’t part of it, and you always disagreed. But with him stepping away, maybe he’s right.
He steps out, and with him no longer in the room, Do-hyun takes the opportunity to hug you. It’s not something you always return but today, it’s everything you need, as her warmth gives you the comfort you’ve been badly craving since last Friday. All you had was your pillow and that didn’t really do much. With Do-hyun wrapping you in her arms, you’re able to breathe, and she holds you tightly as you silently cry, as if she knows just how much it means to you to have a shoulder to cry on this time. 
“Yah! Don’t cry,” she says in that mocking tone to tease you when you pull away. 
Everyone laughs and you shake your head in embarrassment. “I didn’t expect to cry this much.”
“Chin-sun started it,” Yohan says, earning him a nudge and a playful glare. 
“I just knew it mattered that you knew that it was okay,” she says, prompting you to look at her. “We may be crying and going on about missing you and things not being the same but… what you leave behind doesn’t make your decision any less valid, or even wrong. Only you would know what doing this could do for you, and there’s absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”
You mumble your thanks again, feeling a bit of weight off your shoulders with the assurance that the team will be alright without you. 
Outside, Jungkook looks on as everyone gathers around you, hugging you and wiping your tears, something he held himself back from doing. 
There’s no call to be had. He’d intended for today’s meeting to be about discussing the plans moving forward, the added responsibilities that each member would have as Lucas adjusts, and how they could help in his transition. Jungkook didn’t expect for it to turn out the way it did, with each person expressing their gratitude to you, comforting you, and sharing stories that show just how much you matter to them. 
This is who you are - someone loved by the people around her, despite the distance she keeps. There’s just always been this warmth about you that’s reflected in your ability to notice things, in your stubbornness, and in the way that you make every person feel cared for. It’s something he always admired about you. It’s also what he likes the most about you, and for all that you are, all that warmth and comfort that you deserve aren’t things he can give. Not when he’s trying to keep his own distance, not when he’s trying to keep himself together, and not when he’s trying not to hold you back any more than he already did. 
In a way, he’s glad that the team was able to express themselves to you. He likes to think that their words at least relieved you of whatever guilt you were feeling about leaving, something he’s also unable to do. They were able to assure you that they understand and only wish for your happiness. On his end, he’s ensuring that you don’t have to worry about all the work you’ll leave behind. It’s his way of telling you that it’s okay.
Jungkook steps away when he hears you start to pack up. He walks back to his room and hears the team’s plans of grabbing lunch at the dining hall then eating it at the floor’s outdoor space. Do-hyun tells you to ask him to join everyone, and Jungkook hates that he’d have to turn the invitation down. He does so by pretending to still be on a call when you peek into his room, and at this point, he’s unable to read your face. 
He can’t think that you were hoping he’d join you, as he can’t feed the illusion that you still want him after everything. He’ll just believe that it was relief he saw in your eyes and that just like him, you’re creating distance because that makes it easier for both of you. 
But the truth is, it doesn’t, as an hour goes by and he spends it zoning out in the midst of sending emails and coordinating with Lucas about his move. Jungkook catches sight of you from his window, seated with your chair turned around, facing the shelves. He’d seen you do that a few times - in the midst of a busy day, or that very first time after he’d gotten mad at you. He wonders what it’s about now. 
Maybe it’s your decision still weighing heavy on you, or that you still have so much to do for turnover. Whatever it is, Jungkook fights the urge to go out there and ask you, to tell you that you could take a break if it’ll help. Or to hug you if that’s what you need. 
At this moment, he lets himself wish that the world would just suspend for a while and he could do all that without any consequences. He wishes you’re both in some alternative universe where you’re still you and he’s still him but without the baggage, without the secrets, without the intertwined past. He wishes he could just be with you without any of the burden nor the doubts, and you could just go on and be honest with what you both want, and feel what you feel with no reservations, and that all that would be enough. 
There’s so much he wants to do for you but he can’t let himself be weak this time. You made your decision and he won’t hold you back. What he’ll do is try to make things easy for you, although the sullenness in your eyes - that he briefly sees when you turn around to face your desk - tells him that it doesn’t seem like it’s working. 
But detachment is all he knows when it comes to things he can’t control. He can’t control you with the decision you made. He can't control how he’s taking it. And even after all that, he still can’t control the way he feels or the way his heart breaks seeing you like this.
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“Hey, is everything okay?”
You look up from your desktop to a pair of questioning eyes, and you fumble for your tea and ask why he’s asking.
“Just curious,” Yoongi shrugs. “Jungkook’s been cross-copying Lucas in some of our emails and I don’t recall that ever happening before.”
You glance at your screen, seeing the messages that have the said man now looped in, all just today. 
“Uh, yeah. Jungkook’s including him in the communications already,” you answer. “I… I tendered my resignation yesterday, Yoongi. I leave in a month.”
You knew that Yoongi would always be supportive. So many times before, he’d asked you how you imagined your life to be and what you were going to do once you thought your time in the company was over. He’d talked about his own plans, too, like opening up his own architectural firm in Daegu because that was always going to be his home. You knew that when the time came, he’d be proud of you because it would be your decision, and the look on his face right now tells you that he is. 
“You finally did it,” he smiles. “How does it feel?”
“A lot of things,” you sigh, not wanting to give too much away. Not here at least. “There’s just a lot to think about. Maybe when I take one of my remaining leaves, it’ll finally sink in.”
“And how’s Jungkook taking it?”
You’re about to answer, trying to formulate in your head how you can explain how Jungkook has been. But it’s that moment when said man opens his door with papers in hand, his eyes flitting from Yoongi to you. You ask him if there’s anything he needs but he shakes his head and says he can handle it before closing the door. You stare at it for a while, hoping he’d come back out and say that he does need you to do something, but he doesn’t. 
“I guess not well,” Yoongi points out, prompting you to return your gaze to him. 
“He is, actually,” you counter. “He accepted my resignation with no questions asked, gave me a recommendation letter, organized everything for my replacement, told me to take my remaining leaves… he hasn’t given me more workload than I expected. He just wants me to focus on turning things over.”
“And that’s ‘taking it well’ for you?” Yoongi cocks an eyebrow. 
“Well, he hates change. The last time that happened and he got shipped to Seoul but couldn’t bring his old assistant with him, he acted out. We both know how that went,” you say. “And now I’m causing another big change. We had a routine going. The Arts Center opens in less than two months. And then I decided to leave. He could be letting out his anger and frustration on me but he isn’t.”
“Hmm,” Yoongi hums. 
After knowing you for 10 years, he’s come to realize that you have your ways of coping with things. So does Jungkook. 
“I think I know what he’s doing,” he continues, earning him a questioning look from you. “He’s distancing himself. How else does he deal with anything that hurts or terrifies him? He’s losing you, ___. Even just from a professional standpoint, that’s a lot for him. On a personal level, even more.”
You look away, not wanting to think about the implications of Yoongi’s last statement. He picks it up, knowing that it’s probably hard for you to talk about right now.
“You may not agree, but you’re important to him,” he adds. “If you think this is easy for him, I’m telling you now that it isn’t. You know him. He’s… he’s not good at expressing how he feels. He just shuts everyone out. It’s his default. Even if the person he’s pushing away is probably the one he needs the most.”
“It’s more complicated than that,” you sigh.
You relate with Yoongi’s statement though. You pushed Jungkook away when all you wanted was to have him close. You decided to leave the company even though you hoped you could be with him. You may mean a lot to each other but it also doesn’t mean it’s enough. 
“Is it really?” He questions.
When you really think about it, it shouldn’t. Jungkook likes you. You like him. For two people who are used to being on their own, finding comfort and strength in each other and then wanting that to last is simple. But how you both got here isn’t. You kept a secret from him that may have tainted his trust in you. He pursued you in a way that made you doubt his sincerity. You’re unsure how both of you could navigate all that, especially given the way you are.
Your silence prompts Yoongi to say that you don’t have to tell him anything, but that he’s there should you need anyone to talk to. He leaves, and suddenly, the silence is too loud. 
The rest of the afternoon feels too long, with time ticking by so slowly. You always liked how your desk was separated from everyone else, as it gives you the peace and quiet you need to focus on your tasks. You’re also accessible to the VP, which makes everything easier and more efficient. But now, you hate it. There’s no sound but your thoughts ringing at you that you hear. And there’s no Jungkook calling for you to give you things to do. 
Not speaking to him nor seeing him makes your day incomplete. You used to enjoy your shared moments, like when you’d enter his room with his cup of coffee and you’d remind him to take a break. All those times when you’d make him sign documents, with him groaning at something he’s frustrated about and then telling you what you can do after you ask if you can help him with something. Those instances where he’d look through portfolios on your shelf and do small talk with you, and those times you thought he just needed a break or a friendly smile or a hum of encouragement.
It’s only been the second day but there’s none of those now, and you don’t have anyone to blame but yourself.  You let yourself be selfish for once by resigning. But you feel even more selfish by wishing he didn’t act so unaffected, that he’d still ask for you after what you’re putting him through.  
You clock out at 6, initially considering letting Jungkook know but then deciding against it, knowing that his nonchalance will just cause a crack in your heart. The rest of your evening feels lonely even with your variety TV show on, so does your commute to work the next morning that you now have to get used to. It didn’t feel right to still have Mr. Ri drive for you, even though he messaged and insisted that he still could.
It’s Wednesday, and there’s something about the middle of the week that makes you feel uneasy - the week is halfway done; it feels like it flew by but it also can’t end fast enough. There are documents on your desk for review and some emails that you need to get to, but Mrs. Myung calling to say that CEO Jeon wants to see you is what does your head in. You suppose he’d want to speak with you at one point; you just weren’t prepared for it to be today.
The CEO’s office is like a personal museum, with photos and blueprints framed on the walls and miniature replicas of some of the company’s earliest infrastructure being displayed in the large room. The view of the city is stunning from all angles, and you can only imagine how much creativity it inspires. You’re still unsure how he thinks about you, but you bow shyly once he greets you and you take your seat when he asks you to.
“Jungkook said he’ll be announcing your resignation today,” the man says. “It seems that he has everything organized already and ready for your departure.”
“He has, Mr. Jeon,” you confirm. “I feel quite bad that I’m not helping him with the arrangements. He, uh, he seems to have wanted to handle all of it all on his own.”
“Well, he’s pressed for time. He had to make quick decisions with the Arts Center opening in a few weeks.”
“I… I apologize for leaving at such a critical time,” you say, bowing your head in shame once more. “I—”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he shakes his head. “You made a decision that was best for you. I guess I was just in denial that you’d do it so soon, or at least before the Center is revealed. You’ve worked hard on that, too. I’m sure it’s difficult for you to let that go as well.”
You look up and see the gentleness in his eyes, the same ones that looked at you the first time you met him - in this room, over 20 years ago. He was a stranger to you, but he was kind. There wasn’t much you remember from that day nor that period, but you’ll always remember the soft way he greeted you and introduced himself. 
You look back at the years after that. He didn’t reach out much but you still felt him looking out for you and your mom. When you entered the company as an intern, he had that look of recognition, and then of pride. 
Working here all these years, you’ve seen him be the critical, perfectionist, and passionate man that he is. People stopped what they were doing when he entered the room, they listened when he spoke, he commanded fear and respect, but you’ve seen his moments of tenderness and empathy, too. This is a man who commits himself to everything he does, something his son took after him. It’s probably why with his years of experience, he knows that for you, walking away from the project you poured your soul into is just as hard.
“It’s a sad parting, I would say. But I know it will turn out just as beautiful as your son had hoped. He really put his everything into that and I’m glad I got to see it almost completed,” you say, having visited the site not long ago. “Though I’ll no longer be here when the rest of the world sees it, I know it’ll give him that satisfaction and pride that he managed to bring to life all that he envisioned.”
“I don’t know about satisfaction and pride if you’re not around,” Mr. Jeon hums. “You’re leaving a big hole in his life, ___. And I don’t mean that just professionally.”
You turn away, unsure if you’re ready to address your feelings for Jungkook in front of his father. 
“Looking back now, I was being selfish to you all these years,” he continues. “You had a hard time when you first started and that all happened under my watch. I encouraged you to apply for that EA position because I knew that Hoseok would choose you by your own merit, and he would treat you well. He would train and mentor you and I selfishly hoped that my family would be redeemed in your eyes. And Jungkook… he… he reminded me of myself when I was younger. And you had the spirit of your mother,” he adds, his eyes softening at the mention of her. “You had her heart and I hoped… I hoped that whatever gentleness you’d show my son would allow him to heal a little. It was unfair of me to give you that responsibility, especially given how he treated you at the beginning. I’m so sorry, ___. I feel like I was holding you back and I never intended that.”
“Please don’t apologize, Mr. Jeon,” you insist, your eyes blurring a little with his honesty. “I still made the decision to stay every time. Even when it was hard. I… I wanted to show my gratitude to your family for what you’ve done for us. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to pay you back.”
“None of that,” he shakes his head. “It wasn’t just about absolving myself of the guilt for what your mom had to go through because of me, which was bad enough in the first place. But I… I knew it was the only way I could thank her, that I could apologize. If there was a way I could help both of you rebuild your lives, I would.”
“And you did,” you assure him. “We were safe. We made good memories in Busan. We now have a good home back in Daegu. I got to study and build myself and experience all these things. And I… I got to meet your son. And I got to see his heart. And I’ll always keep that with me, regardless of how things turned out.”
“Does this mean that you and him aren’t… uh—”
“It was unprofessional to cross the line, Mr. Jeon,” you bow your head. “I’m so sorry that happened.”
“I’m not angry. I guess I should’ve expected it. I’d accept my wife calling me a matchmaker if only it was true,” he laughs dryly. “Jungkook cares about you. And I know that you care about him. You’ve resigned now. You’re… you’re free.”
“I didn’t decide to leave so I could be with him, sir. I mean, that wasn’t the primary intention,” you try to explain. “I… I always knew I would, but doing this soon is because I’m unsure how to continue with my role given what happened. I hope I’ve clarified that.”
“Is this it, then? Is this goodbye for you and him?”
“I… I still hope I’ll see him one day, perhaps when we’ve forgiven each other, when we’ve come to understand the decisions that we made, and once we’ve come to terms with them,” you say. “I’m unsure when that would be. But I hope I’ll have the chance to congratulate him and to tell him I’m happy for him.”
“Goodbyes aren’t always for good,” Mr. Jeon says. “I’d like to believe that we cross paths with people for a reason, that we lose them for a reason, and that we find them again for a reason.”
“That’s not such a bad thought,” you smile. “I suppose that every person I lost for good was for a reason. If I find my way back to Jungkook… it should be for a good reason, too.”
“Of course. And I also mean that for us,” he smiles back. “Please don’t become a stranger. You mean a lot to our family, ___. How your mother helped me and how you helped our son will not be forgotten. Thank you.”
“Likewise, sir. You and Mrs. Jeon have helped us so much. Even Mr. Ri. I… I owe a lot to him as well.”
“You should already know he has a soft spot for you. That man treats you like family.”
You smile to yourself, thinking of how Mr. Ri has looked out for you all these years. He sacrificed a lot, too, and that feeling of safety that he gave you and your mother changed everything for you, even if it took everything from him. But he never wavered, as he made sure to visit you regularly when you were growing up. You suppose he had to hold back once you started working for the company and especially for Jungkook, given the secret you both kept, but Mr. Ri has been showing that same care to you now that the truth is out. 
“Did… did you know about him and my mom?” You wonder. 
“I did,” Mr. Jeon nods. “It was hard not to. Byung-hun was always serious and expressionless but his eyes always softened whenever she was around. She’s why he even smiled. But… decisions had to be made. I’ll always be sorry for what could’ve been.”
“It’s a love that lives on, though,” you say. “He’s been such a big help to me these past few days.”
“That’s good. You can always count on him. He’ll do anything for you, you should know that. It’s how he keeps their memories alive.”
It’s a nice thought, as you let the older man’s words settle. Love may not always be returned but the beauty is in how it’s expressed, in that it’s received regardless, and that it’s remembered. 
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You didn’t expect for the talk with CEO Jeon to be as emotional and uplifting as it was. You suppose that all these years, you both were just trying to make it up to each other, to compensate for something that was given and for something that was taken away. Maybe he needed this closure, too, for him to know that you’ve always forgiven him, and that after everything, you’re grateful for what his family has done for you.
Letting out a sigh of relief that at least he’s not angry at you, you return to your tasks. You organize some documents then enter Jungkook’s room to request his signature, immediately spotting some of those he’d already signed from yesterday. 
You avoid his eyes again, and you only hope he doesn’t see the sadness in yours when you hear the conversation he’s currently having.
“Is the apartment okay?” He says on the phone. 
It’s Lucas, you assume. He’s scheduled to arrive today and is probably settling down first. 
“Yeah, just take your time. But don’t forget to be at my penthouse tomorrow,” Jungkook continues. “Ms. Cho will be there to brief you. I’ll see you at 7:00.”
He puts the phone down and retrieves the folder with all the files you set on his desk while you review the ones he just signed. Moments like this used to be spent on friendly banter or some questions on his end, but there’s none of that now. There’s just the sound of the pen gliding on the sheet and the flipping of pages filling the tense-filled air in the room. He hands you back the folder and you’re forced to look at him to say your thanks.
“Please be at my apartment tomorrow at 7. Mr. Ri can take you there, I’m sure he’ll insist,” Jungkook says. 
“Yes. Mr. Jeon,” you reply, your eyes focused on his desk. 
“And prepare the conference room for the postponed team meeting. We start in 15 minutes.”
You confirm his instructions and quickly head out. You gather everyone - and receive another hug from Do-hyun that you hadn’t realized you’ve been needing so much - then proceed to the room as instructed. 
Emotions are managed this time, with no more tearful goodbyes and sentimental speeches unlike the day before. Jungkook gets straight to the point by laying out the plans for Lucas’ onboarding and the division of tasks for the Arts Center opening. You’re primarily assigned to handle the former, as you’ll be turning over all of your responsibilities to him, including all documents, schedules, and contacts. Your facilitative role for the major project is divided between the rest of the team, and as you add the growing list of deliverables and other things you’re in charge of, you’re reminded just how hard you’ve been working for this, too. 
CEO Jeon was right. You’re not just walking away from your job; you’re walking away from something that you’ve started to believe in and be passionate about yourself. In a way, Jungkook gave that to you, and you’ll always be grateful that he let you be a part of it. 
The melancholic feeling stays with you for the rest of the day. You find yourself lingering on people and things and moments, as if capturing them so you can keep them in your memory. 
You do that, too, during lunchtime with the team as you laugh at the stories and incidents you recall that only all of you know. You do it while replying to the dozens of messages you receive after the announcement, with some of the other assistants calling you and expressing their sadness. You do it as well when you email Jungkook another memo he has asked you to draft. And then again when you peek through the window while he’s busy working on perhaps some other design, the image of him focused being etched in your mind until you sleep that night. 
You have to let go, you tell yourself; that was the point of resigning. You’re free, like what CEO Jeon said. While you never likened being in this company to a prison, there’s something liberating about stepping back from what you’ve known for years and realizing that you enjoyed it, too, that it gave you a certain kind of happiness and satisfaction, and a special feeling that only you could have.
Jungkook was someone who gave you all that as well, even if it was all fleeting. But then again, you don’t think anything really is. The things and people and emotions and moments you encounter all stay with you in one way or another. For that instance, you had them and they had you. Perhaps that’s the beauty of it - they may not stay but they will always linger. 
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You enter the car the next morning with the scent of freshly baked pastry. Your eyes light up when you see the iced coffee, prompting Mr. Ri to let out a soft laugh and say that he picked them up on the way for you.
“Jungkook’s got a packed day so I doubt he’d have time for breakfast and I assumed that meant you, too,” he adds. 
“Not really,” you sigh. “He’s keeping me to just turnover duties for my last weeks here. I doubt I’d be that busy. But breakfast is good. I woke up late so I managed to only grab some fruits.”
“I think he just doesn’t want you to be stressed. Saying goodbye is hard enough.”
“I suppose… I guess I just hoped things would slow down a bit. But then again, I’m the one who abruptly resigned,” you say. “No one was afforded time to process things, including me.”
“It will sink in soon enough,” he hums. “Especially once you see how things change.”
“They have,” you whisper, the sullenness in your eyes letting the other man know just how much. “And I have no right to wish they didn’t, at least not this fast.”
“Oh, ___,” Mr. Ri turns to you with a sad smile. You can’t imagine him being the cold and stoic man that CEO Jeon had described, one who only softened when your mother was around. “You do. Standing by our decisions means that we accept whatever the consequences are, not that we can’t wish they were different. I’m pretty sure Jungkook feels that way, too. He’s dealing with you leaving, but it doesn’t mean he wishes you had to. And maybe… deep in your heart, you wished that not staying in the company didn’t have to mean not being with him.”
It’s a thought you’ve had for a long time, but one you don’t want to acknowledge. There’s a lot of things you’re still scared to face, including just how much you want him. You’re afraid to break, to want to take it all back, and to realize just how much you’re losing by letting all this go. 
And like the family he’s come to be, Mr. Ri reminds you that this pain you’re feeling is part of the process of finding the happiness you’ve been yearning for.
“Sometimes we have to lose things for something so much better,” he comforts. “‘Better’ could be a person or a state of mind. In your case, I think it’s discovering that kind of strength you didn’t know you had; it’s that freedom that you wouldn’t have otherwise felt even if you got together with Jungkook. For as long as you’re in the company, you’ll always feel burdened and that something’s missing at the same time. You always needed this. And I should’ve encouraged you to be braver a long time ago.”
“Then I wouldn’t have met him,” you say immediately, the thought breaking you, even if you tried to convince yourself it was better that you didn’t. “He and I have pasts that intertwine and if we never met then there… there would be nothing of him I’d carry, there’d be no trace of him in me.”
But you did meet. And now there’s Jungkook in you - in your bravery, in your strength, in your silence. He’s in your appreciation for art and design and love for disposable cameras and capturing good memories. You carry him with you, and the thought makes things hurt a little less. Maybe all that is why you got the courage to walk away in the first place. Maybe those could push you to find him again, too.
You’re deep in your head that you don’t realize you’re already at Jungkook’s building until Mr. Ri is calling your name. You exit, and right at the entrance, you see a well-dressed man with a bright yellow helmet on one hand and a scooter on the other, his smile brightening his whole face as he greets you. He’s Lucas, he says, and you’d almost forgotten the purpose of why you’re back here after almost a week. 
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. Cho. Although I wish it were for happier reasons,” he says, his face softening. 
“It’s happy enough,” you smile. “You’re living abroad like you said you wanted to, and this is career advancement for you. They’re all good things.”
“I suppose so. Although I didn’t really get to prepare myself much. I’m quite nervous, if I’m being honest.”
You pass over your access cards to him and let him go through the building’s security process. It’s another way you’re letting go of Jungkook, you think, and there’s more of that melancholic feeling, as memories of all your mornings here fly through your mind. 
“You’ve been with Mr. Jeon longer than I have, Lucas. You know how he works,” you tell him. “Sure, there are added responsibilities as the Vice President’s EA but you’ll learn them through experience. You have the skills good enough to be his assistant in the first place. And he’s… he’s good at what he does. He’s good to people. Those should make things easier for you.”
“Hmm that’s true,” he replies, as you both head towards the elevator. “He seems a lot calmer than I’m used to. And more poised. And— I don’t know if I can say this but, more considerate, I suppose. He made sure everything was organized for my move. He checked on me when I arrived. He even got me a scooter because my old one was a bit rusty already.”
You smile to yourself. They’re simple things, and it makes you think that maybe Jungkook used to not show much care to his staff. Lucas doesn’t seem to hold resentment of any kind, so you suppose Jungkook just gave or did the bare minimum. If your relationship with him somehow influenced this kinder and perhaps softer version of him, then meeting you wasn’t so bad for him either.
Lucas rambles a little as he talks about being anxious working with all the bosses, and you wish there was a way that you could ease his worries. You understand it. You were in his shoes once, and you hope that your mentorship of him during this turnover period will be enough. 
“All that to say that I have large shoes to fill,” he adds. “And I just don’t want to disappoint him.”
“And you won’t,” you assure the younger man as you reach Jungkook’s floor. “You’re gonna be fine and the team is gonna support you. So will he, so you just do what you can and things will fall into place.”
Lucas sighs in relief and smiles. It’s the most you can do for now and you hope at least for today, it’s enough. 
You enter Jungkook’s apartment and a feeling of sadness rushes through you. Everything looks the same and it’s much too quiet than you’re used to. 
You tell Lucas what you normally do and he says that Jungkook’s doing away with breakfast.
“He knows I fast so we never really had meals in the morning,” Lucas says. “But it’s nice you got to prepare them for him. He was always too busy and didn’t realize he hadn't had anything to eat until past lunch time.”
You nod, realizing that you probably created that routine you both had. Jungkook used to just always go straight to business but at least with you, he was able to slow down a little and enjoy a meal. You’d come to like those moments, you smile to yourself. He felt a little more human to you then.
You go through Jungkook’s usual schedule and give Lucas a list of numbers to call, like his house cleaner and cook. There are other routines you share, and the young man starts to take note, as some of them are new due to Jungkook’s role. 
It’s not long after when the man himself shows up, walking into the kitchen donned in a dark blue suit. You reflexively take a step forward, ready to fix his crooked tie, but then you realize that this is one routine you’ve stopped doing for a while, so you put your hand down and bow to him in greeting. 
Jungkook just nods at you and then asks Lucas how the move was and if everything’s okay. The young man answers accordingly, with just enough information to not prolong the conversation. 
“It’s gonna be a hectic couple of weeks so it’s good you’ve settled in,” Jungkook says. “Have you gone through the building’s security process? Do you have access to my apartment now?”
“Yes, sir. Ms. Cho has briefed me about all of that,” Lucas says.
“Good,” Jungkook nods. “I’ll just grab my things and we can go. We’ll run through yesterday’s meeting and my schedule for the remainder of the week in the car.”
He walks towards his study to get his bag while you and Lucas stay behind.
“Aren’t you gonna fix his tie?” You whisper to the man next to you.
“Why, what’s wrong with it?” Lucas asks, turning to Jungkook and looks intently at his outfit.
“The knot is slightly to the right,” you point out.
Lucas takes a few seconds to answer before he nods in agreement. “I don’t really fix it but I could tell him.”
You’re all in the elevator and with Lucas looking a bit antsy, Jungkook asks him what’s wrong.
“Your… your tie is slightly to the right, sir,” Lucas says.
It prompts Jungkook to face the mirror, adjusting it himself numerous times until he figures it out. Turning around, with his eyes flitting to you, he asks, “is this alright?”
You nod, feeling the distance once again. 
Jungkook used to look at you in a way that always seemed to be more during this shared moment, with words and feelings unsaid, and you realize that so did you. It’s such a simple thing - fixing his suit, but it’s seconds where it’s all quiet and it’s just your breaths sharing space, your glances meeting, maybe your hearts beating a little too fast, a little too loud. 
But there’s none of that now. There’s just distance and it’ll get farther as time passes by, especially once all three of you make it to the car and you know, next to him is no longer the place you should be. You take the passenger seat, feeling unfamiliar when you hear his voice right behind you. 
Jungkook goes on about Lucas’ new role to include preparing his clothes for the week, which means styling him accordingly. It’s a task the younger man says makes him nervous, but Jungkook assures him.
“Just make sure the clothes match and that I don’t look ridiculous. And that, uh, my tie isn’t crooked.”
Lucas chuckles and says he’s up for the challenge before the conversation switches to the meetings today and tomorrow. Jungkook asks you questions and you fill in some other details. You’re not as on top of his schedule as you used to be, and he instructs that for the meetings after the turnover to Lucas, you’ll no longer be required to attend. You have leaves to take, Jungkook reminds you, and given that you’re set to start work elsewhere soon, having some time off would be good. 
“All noted, sir,” you say, and despite how you feel, you also agree. 
You arrive at the office and Lucas is promptly introduced to the team. He’s received well, as he’s able to match the young ones’ energy and you see the respect he has for the rest, including you. You already know he’s going to do well, and you make a mental note to tell Bitna and Mrs. Myung to look after him as well, the same thing you told Mr. Ri to do. 
While Lucas fixes his documents with HR, you decide to bring Jungkook a cup of coffee and some biscuits, unsure if he’s had any breakfast yet. He promptly looks up from his desk when you enter, nodding in acknowledgement when you place them on his desk. 
“Lucas is a fast learner and he’s good with people,” Jungkook says, surprising you, as you hadn’t expected him to start a conversation. “He just needs to work on being a leader and holding the team together. You’re… you’re very good at that. I know it’s a short time but I hope it’s something you could teach him.”
It takes a while for you to respond. Even if his tone is not the soft one you’ve gotten used to, his words still hold warmth in them - towards Lucas. And towards you. 
“I… I will, sir. And if it means anything, I think he’ll do well. He’s got good people looking out for him, including you.”
You want to return his kind words, but you also want to remind him that despite how you both started, he stood by your side and guided you. And that helped you be even more confident and capable in what you do. You hope it’s something you’re able to tell him, in a more truthful and vulnerable way he deserves, but there’s no place for that now. Yet the way he nods tells you that maybe he knows, and as you hold his gaze for a little longer than usual, you hope you’re also able to say a bit more. 
That you miss your mornings together. That days don’t feel the same without his soft laughter. That you’ve almost forgotten how his smile looks like. That there’s so much of him you want to keep even though you shouldn’t. That you hope he wishes, just like you, that you’d find your way back to him someday even if right now, you have to do this. 
The knock on the door signals that your shared moment has passed and you’re unsure if any of that reached him. Maybe not, as he turns away and just nods. 
Lucas enters, and you remind him of that building tour you said you’d give. He’s been to the office three times but only in the conference hall, so you decide to take him around before that meeting with the design department in an hour. Do-hyun will cover for both of you while you’re away, so Jungkook tells you to advise her that he won’t be taking any calls or visitors in the meantime. 
You nod, and Jungkook watches you walk out the door as he keeps himself steady like always, holding himself back from wanting you to stay a little longer, from asking how you’re doing, from taking you in his arms like he’s been wanting to do for days. 
It’s hard having to act like it doesn’t affect him, like it doesn’t break his heart seeing the sadness in your eyes with how he’s taking your departure. While that overheard conversation told him that you planned on leaving, he wasn’t ready for you to do it so soon. Perhaps he should’ve expected it - you both kissed and he went ahead and said the words he’d never said before, and that’s what caused you to push him away and decide that you didn’t want anything to do with him despite how you feel.
He doesn’t know if you ever planned on telling him the truth about who you are. He doesn’t know what your plans have always been and what they are now. He doesn’t know what you’re feeling and how you’re dealing with all these goodbyes. He supposes if he’d asked first, maybe things would have turned out differently, and you wouldn’t be leaving this way. Maybe he wouldn’t be hating himself for detaching so quickly and so certainly, as if he isn’t missing everything about you, as if he isn’t wishing that he could just hold you in his arms and have you stay there. 
It took everything in him not to fall apart when he saw your resignation letter. You’d been so certain and after what he learned, he didn’t want to hold you back anymore. He hoped you’d at least want to talk about what you felt, or perhaps assure him that leaving the company doesn’t mean leaving him for good. He kissed you and you kissed him back. And he can’t wrap his head around how you could do that and then so easily decide that being with him isn’t what you want.
It’s all too much, and the only thing he knows he could do for you is make the departure less difficult by making sure that you have nothing to worry about what you’re leaving behind. He made the executive decision to get Lucas, and it wasn’t hard getting his father’s approval this time around. Jungkook organized the whole move and all other turnover matters so that you wouldn’t be bothered by them. He recommended that you take your remaining leaves so you’d get some rest before you move on to your next job, wherever that is. He didn’t want you to be burdened by the extra tasks you have to do for him, including going to his apartment every morning. 
But disengaging with you, distancing himself… those are for his benefit. And for you, too, as he doesn’t want to linger and then be foolish by asking you to reconsider, or telling you that he still wants you, that he meant everything he said about what he feels, and that he wishes you’d assure him of your sincerity and tell him you want him just as much. Acting unaffected is the only way that he can maintain that sense of control, the one he lost when he decided to be honest with you and give in to his desires. 
He knows it’s not ideal but he doesn’t know how else to give you the freedom you deserve while wanting you next to him. A part of him holds onto the hope that you want that, too - to unburden yourself while being with him. He’d seen the sadness in your eyes these past days and he wants to think it’s because of the distance he’s creating, or because you miss him, too. He’s noticed your glances and lingering looks, he’d seen you stop yourself from fixing his tie this morning, and there’s a softness in your voice that’s different from how it usually is. 
But much as he has a lot to say, he also doesn’t know how to. He’s afraid that if he tries, you’ll push him away again, maybe further this time that he won’t know how to get you back. He’s afraid that you’ll look at him differently, that you’d think he doesn’t care about what you want, or that you’ll realize that it’s just not going to work. He doesn’t like what’s happening but he doesn’t think he’s ready for what would happen if he does anything else. 
So he stays where he is, close enough to see you, but not enough to feel your presence. Every second that he’s without you, he feels himself slipping away. He wants to give in but he knows he can’t, so he decides to do the only thing he knows - pull back, distance himself, disengage. 
He tells himself to just focus on the tasks at hand, that there are a lot more things that require his full attention, and it helps somehow. He presides over the meetings with the design team and then with marketing with few distractions. He sees you from his periphery taking minutes just as Lucas does, but Jungkook doesn’t comment on it. He just goes from one meeting to the next, one call to another one, and one email to a dozen more. 
The day is almost over before he knows it, as the knock on the door pulls him away from the budget report he’s reviewing. It’s a little disorienting seeing Lucas once it opens. That used to be you - asking if there’s anything else he needs before you head home. And Jungkook would often take a while to answer just to keep you a little longer before letting you go, even if he’s assured that he’ll see you again in the morning - in his kitchen preparing him a meal, the start of a routine that’s become the best part of his day. 
But it’s not you standing by his doorway now. And it won’t be you who’ll be in his penthouse in the morning. You won’t be asking if he got to rest well. You won’t be standing close to him as you fix his outfit, your eyes focused on the creases of his top while his eyes are focused on you. You won’t surprise him with fried rice or fancy-looking eggs on toast while you sneak glances at him to see if he enjoyed it, which he always does. You won’t be there to tease or bicker with him, and he won’t see your warm smile whenever he laughs or teases back.   
He doesn’t know how he survived the week without all of that. He knows he’ll have to learn how to get through everyday with that big, empty space you’re leaving. And he’s terrified that he’ll get used to it; the last thing he wants is to forget how it felt when you were still around. 
“Mr. Jeon?” Lucas calls out again, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts. “I’m heading home. What time did you want me to be at your penthouse tomorrow morning?”
It’s silly but Jungkook feels protective of his mornings with you. If he’ll no longer have it, then he’ll just live in the memory by himself. So he tells Lucas to be at his place at 7:30 AM, right before they leave. 
“Understood, sir. I’ll see you then.”
Jungkook bids him goodbye and returns to his task, but he’s too distracted by the silence so he decides to go home. He enters the car, feeling the tiredness weigh his body down - not only does he stay up to work, he also wakes up early to do his workout. It’s only been a week but it’s catching up to him, and the deep sigh he releases catches Mr. Ri’s attention. 
“You should get proper rest,” the older man advises. “You’re gonna get sick at the rate you’re going.”
“I’m fine,” Jungkook huffs. “I’ll rest when I’m dead.”
“I should ask ___ to tell you to slow down. She knows how to make you listen, doesn’t she?”
“That’s not necessary,” Jungkook sighs, even if he knows it’s the truth. 
You had a calming way of telling him to take a pause, and he always listened because it’s you. 
“Then you better listen to me,” Mr. Ri says, eyeing him from the rearview mirror. “You need to be at your best these next few weeks and you won’t be if you push yourself too hard. You have a team that has your back. It’s all going to work out.”
“That’s exactly what she would say,” Jungkook shakes his head, suddenly hearing your voice in his head. 
“I know. And I bet you that she’d say it even more if she sees how you are now. You need to rest, Jungkook. I mean it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says in submission, deciding that he’ll just buy food on the way home and then call it a night. But the mention of your name has his mind going to you again. “Did… did she eat breakfast?” Jungkook asks.
“She did, and she liked it,” Mr. Ri responds. “You know, she still would’ve eaten it even if I said that you asked me to get those pastries for her. It wouldn’t have made a difference.”
“It would have. She’ll know it was from me.”
“And? Just because she’s leaving, it doesn’t mean you have to stop showing her that you care. And it doesn’t mean that she stopped caring, either.”
At Jungkook’s silence, the older man continues.
“Why do you do that? Why hide behind your pain? Why make excuses for what you feel about her? You think it’s easier that way?” he presses. “You think it helps you and her when you act like it doesn’t affect you?”
“She pushed me away, okay? What do you expect me to feel?”
“But she still cares about you, at least acknowledge that.”
“But I want her to want me,” Jungkook raises his voice, surprising himself with the burst of emotion he didn’t expect. “I don’t just want her to care. I… I want her to be with me. But she has a life to live beyond all this, and I don’t think she wants me to be a part of that.” 
Mr. Ri turns to Jungkook with sad eyes, unable to say anything else. He doesn’t know what kind of comfort the younger man needs. It starts and ends with you, it seems, and perhaps that’s expected. After Jungkook’s breakup with Chaerin, he kept his heart guarded and didn’t bother to let anyone have a peek. All encounters were shallow, all attempts at getting him to share himself were futile. Until you. And now that he’s shared a little bit of himself, with you turning away from it, he feels exposed and bare, and he has to build his walls back up again. 
Mr. Ri gets to witness it this time, and his heart breaks for the younger man, too. Having heard both sides, he knows that Jungkook respects your decision and wants to be with you. Those can coexist. He also knows that you want to be free from the ties that bind you to this family and want to be with him. Those can coexist as well. But he knows, more than anyone, that you’ll both have to make a decision, and you’ll both have to learn to do that. 
“I can’t tell you what to do, Jungkook. And I can’t tell her, either,” the older man sighs. “You’ll have to figure things out on your own and decide what you want to do because that’s the only way you’ll get to stand by your choices.”
It’s a piece of advice that Jungkook should follow, even if all he wants is for someone to tell him what to do. But perhaps that’s also hard if he can’t make sense of everything that he feels. And it’s both of you suffering at the end of it.
He stays quiet for the rest of the ride, wanting to just shut out his thoughts even if there are hundreds of them swimming in his mind. When Mr. Ri asks him where he wants to grab his dinner, Jungkook can’t decide and ends up going to a convenience store instead. He sighs to himself as he realizes the memories that’ll come up by being here; he wants to escape thoughts of you, but he still ends up thinking about you whatever he does, as if his mind and body gravitate towards you without realizing it. 
He buys instant noodles and some snacks. He munches on choco pie during the ride back to his penthouse and remembers the way you smiled when you ate it that night when he stayed with you. It’s an image he keeps until he falls asleep, and there’s that empty feeling again when he wakes up in the morning.
Lucas arrives that Friday as instructed and they leave for the office right away. They talk about the Arts Center and the schedule for the day, and they arrive at the building at the same time that you do. 
It’s a little tense sharing the elevator with you this time, especially as he formally greets you as if he wasn’t torturing himself with the thought of you all night. But you smile and act cordial, choosing to let the silence engulf all three of you and just deal with it. 
There are virtual meetings he has to attend, and Jungkook multitasks while reviewing some reports that are on his desk. There are some things he knows he needs to sign, so he calls your phone and asks them where they are. 
You walk inside his room with a folder of documents and promotional materials for his approval, setting them on his desk and explaining that Lucas was going to bring them in after he was done speaking with HR.
You watch as Jungkook, with scrunched eyebrows, goes through each sheet of paper. There’s so much tension on his face and his entire body, and you wonder if he’s been resting properly. Perhaps not, as you see the dark circles under his eyes.
“You don’t have to wait for Lucas to give these to me,” Jungkook says. “You still have that responsibility. You’re still my assistant.”
There’s no anger in his voice but you can’t help but feel defensive. He’s instructed you to focus on turning over files and functions, after all.
“Am I?” You find the courage to question him. “You’ve made yourself perfectly clear on what I’m only here for.”
Jungkook is taken aback by your words, not expecting you to say them with a mix of sadness and bitterness. But he answers back, unable to control himself this time. 
“And you’ve made yourself perfectly clear on what you want. And what you don’t want,” he says, more bitterly than he intended. 
Your face falls, and he hates himself for making you feel like this, so he backtracks.
“I’m just… trying to make things easier for you,” he reasons, glancing at you before returning his gaze to the papers. “There are lots of things to turn over and I prefer that you just focus on them. I need Lucas to know what to do because you always did, and that’s a big loss for the team. It’s not my intention to undermine you or… make you feel like I’m replacing you. I know I won’t be able to,” he says boldly. “You’re leaving and I’m just trying to deal with it the best way I know how.”
You look at him and see the mix of frustration and sadness on his face. This is all on you, and you hate that you don’t know what to do about it. So you accept his words in submission.
“I understand, sir,” you say, almost like a whisper. “I’m… I’m sorry.”
You bow then head out, leaving Jungkook rooted in his seat like always, knowing that a second more and he would’ve called you back, even if he doesn’t know what he’d say, just so he could be around you a few seconds longer. 
But he lets you go. Whatever he wants to say won’t make it out anyway. 
Jungkook gets through the rest of the day constantly distracted, always half-hoping it’s you when there’s a knock on the door, or glancing at your direction from his seat, expecting you’d be meeting his eyes. But it’s never you on the other side and you don’t look his way, and before he knows it, Lucas is saying goodbye and then Hoseok is calling to tell him to go home already. 
Jungkook tries, though. He finishes half a bottle of whiskey and then sleeps through mid-morning. He doesn’t really know what to do with the time he has and he hates that he has so much of it.
For the first time, he forces himself not to think about the Arts Center, so he decides to sketch some designs for the various residential projects he has in the pipeline. Some are still in their early stages but that Scandinavian-inspired building that he’s been visiting various properties for is still being conceptualized. He doesn’t want to rush, believing that the right design will come, and he hopes that by going through the photos from his trip with Hoseok and A-yeong to Europe last year, he’ll have that extra nudge or perhaps, a burst of inspiration.
The buildings are intricate and majestic, but it’s the little cafes that catch his attention, the fountains in the gardens, and the faraway shots he took of Hoseok and A-yeong as they laughed and danced about. There’s something captivating about the everyday moments, and when he clicks on the photo of the sky, he’s reminded that all those times, he was thinking of you - that clarity, the stability, the comfort. Jungkook always has a lot of things going on in his head but you’ve become that person who makes him stop and look around, who makes him see the beauty in things, who makes him want them for himself this time. 
There are some images that float through his mind for the project - large windows, spacious courtyards, open living spaces, muted palettes, tree-lined streets - but with all the comfort and beauty that those bring, his thoughts still shift to you. He remembers how you looked against the mountains during the team building, how the sun made you glow even more, how you looked at peace by the stream, and all he can think about is the sadness that comes with knowing they’re all just memories - still images in his mind that haunt him of what could’ve been. 
Jungkook decides to switch strategies an hour later, the emptiness of his penthouse adding to the emptiness he feels inside. Thinking that a change of scenery is what he needs, he puts on his tracks and hoodie and heads out for a run. There’s no destination in mind. He’ll just jog around town, stop if he feels like it, and then head on out again until the thought of you fades from his mind. 
He knows he’s not fooling anyone; he’ll probably still be thinking about you. But at least for those hours where he’s distracted by the sounds of the cars and the people in the streets, there’s less of you in there. 
It’s quite sunny out. It’s mid-afternoon and he likes the feel of the sweat in his body, the heat contrasting the occasional burst of wind. He stops by a garden, then a convenience store for a drink, then runs up a trail to get a view of the city. The sun starts to set and Jungkook takes it slow. With his hands in his pockets, he leisurely walks to a nearby neighborhood that he hasn’t been to before. 
He appreciates the calmness this time and thinks that maybe spending his weekends like this every once in a while isn’t so bad. But he thinks of other ways he could spend it and with whom. Finding new restaurants to eat at and places to explore with you flash through his mind. So does watching your variety shows with you on the couch or some local film like what you enjoy doing on your own. 
Jungkook doesn’t fight against it this time. He realizes that the more he resists it, the angrier he’ll be, and he doesn’t want to feel that anymore. He wasn’t mad at you, he was mad at the situation. He was mad at himself for waiting too long, for not handling things properly, for not talking to you about it… for not being honest about what he really wanted early on. He’s trying not to be selfish by letting you walk away, but maybe that’s selfish, too, if all he’s focused on is how he deals with it, without considering how it’s also affecting you. 
He sighs to himself. He’s feeling so much, and this hasn’t happened in a long time. He wasn’t good at this then, and it seems that he hasn’t learned; he doesn’t know how to express what he feels even now. 
The sound of children’s laughter catches his attention, and Jungkook turns to his left and finds himself outside of the neighborhood park. The playground is hidden behind large trees, and as if by some serendipitous occurrence, he walks inside and finds a bench to sit on. It’s where he stays as he watches the last remaining child leave the swing and head home. 
Silence envelopes him now. He remembers his childhood - how he disliked playing in the nearby playground because he was always teased for being the shy and quiet kid, how his brother laughed along, and how his father constructed one for him so he could enjoy it for once. His brother never joined him, choosing to stay in the treehouse built for him on the other side of their property, and Jungkook liked it that way. 
He would climb up the small rock wall and then slide down the slide. He’d swing himself as high as he could, giggling loudly because of the ticklish feeling in his stomach and no one would hear him. He’d look through the telescope and gaze at the stars in the evening. On some afternoons, he’d sit on the little bench and just draw cars and buildings and houses on his sketch pad, just like he’d seen his father do. Out there, he felt like he could be anyone. He could do anything and feel anything and not be afraid. No one was going to hurt him. Nothing would make him feel unwanted - not the birds, not the butterflies, not the bees that he’d watch from afar. 
His old man may have always been busy but he built that playground for him without Jungkook asking him to. They were words that his father couldn’t say, apologies that he couldn’t voice out, a desire for more time that he couldn’t express or maybe even commit to, which is why they remained unspoken. 
After the incident at the cabin when Jungkook felt abandoned, he stopped playing. He stopped going outside, afraid of the open air, of the possibility that the rain would come, of his father joining him in a space that used to be one where no one could disappoint him. 
Time passed and the apologies were still unspoken. The emotions were kept hidden, the desire left unsaid. But they remained. Jungkook knew because his father kept that playground in its spot despite the renovations done in the estate over the years. He maintained them, too, making sure that he seals them regularly, that he repairs damages, that he paints them once the color has started to fade.
Jungkook knew this because every time he visited their home, he always spent some time there. And he saw that the playground always looked the way it did when he first saw it over 20 years ago. He was there last week, and he remembers that in the midst of his outburst, being there calmed him down. 
Despite all the painful memories in between, and even if he’d outgrown it already, the safety was still there. It held memories, it felt like freedom, it held that child-like belief that he could do and be anything and he could be happy.
And as Jungkook watches the sky turn dark, the calmness overtakes him. Any playground elicits that kind of feeling, and he hears the apologies, he feels the emotions, he understands the desire. 
He realizes that he’s very much like his father, just as you and Mr. Ri and Hoseok have told him. Because much as the old man is good at many things, expressing how he feels is one thing he struggles with. That’s why he builds things. He builds homes for his wife and a treehouse and playground for his sons. 
And like some epiphany, Jungkook realizes that he may not be able to express what he feels, but he may be able to show you. The words may never be enough, even as they remain unsaid, but he can at least give you a space that matters to you, a place just like his playground that you could go to to feel safe, where you could be anyone, where you could do anything and feel anything and not be afraid. 
It will be a place where no one can hurt you, not even him, and where you’ll always be wanted - by the characters in your picture books, and the birds and butterflies and bees that you’ll color. You may have outgrown them, but he knows that the memories of your childhood will remind you that there’s a place for you, in his heart especially. 
His mind starts to race, with designs and details flashing through his mind. He rushes home and starts working, and he doesn’t leave his study until 3 in the morning. But he’s satisfied, and he spends the next day making calls and other arrangements, ensuring that the plans are set for dissemination to the team. 
It’s a monumental task for the time that he has. The Arts Center opening isn’t far from now. He’ll probably earn the ire of everyone involved, including his father, but Jungkook will just have to deal with all that. 
Right now, what matters is that he gets to do this to show you how he feels. He doesn’t know when you’ll see it, if you’ll decide to go when it opens in a few weeks, but he hopes that when you do, you’ll know that you made him feel something that he hasn’t in a long time, and he hopes that if he no longer gives you that feeling of comfort and safety that he’s been giving, then there’s a place that he built so you’d feel all those again.
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You sit on your desk that Monday morning and try to act as if all your contrasting emotions aren’t weighing heavily on you. 
Being with your friends over the weekend helped, as you took the train to meet them this time and told them everything that’s happened. You apologized for not telling them right away, but they knew that it was important for you to feel everything on your own first and try to figure it out. You said you really hadn’t - deciding to leave seemed so simple but the feelings and the truth complicated them, and now you’re left with a broken heart and the belief that Jungkook won’t forgive you, that he won’t want you anymore, that he'll just let you walk away without any closure.
Soomin and Jimin just held you and listened. They knew from the start it would be difficult. Your past wasn’t something you talked about so easily, and it took you years to even tell them your story, how you ended up in Busan and why you had to return to Daegu because it was already safe for you to go back home. There was no judgment, only support, even when you decided to enter the company and work for the people that you felt you owed your life to.
Their resentment towards Jungkook stemmed from how he treated you at the beginning; they knew that yours was the same. But they never questioned your sincerity when it came to how you felt - you’re never like this, they said. It takes a lot for you to let someone in and ties to his family isn’t enough for that. If anything, that’s what told them it was real - you would’ve tried hard to control the feelings but you still gave in, and for you to think he was worth that even for the briefest moment means he probably was. 
Their perspective affirmed you in a way. This wasn’t just some silly crush on your boss, but this also wasn’t something you could just easily forget or get over. Your happiness always comes first, and it may look like a life with him in it, but it doesn’t mean he gets to be part of it right now. It’s also possible it’s one without him, and if it is, then you’re just going to have to learn to accept that. 
You sigh to yourself. You’re in no better place than you were last week, but at least you have less days left in being here. But then again, that also just means the closer you are to really saying goodbye. 
You go through your checklist of things to turn over and do before you leave, and while you’re halfway through, putting together event and project portfolios and documenting best practices still takes a lot of time. 
You’re about to begin your first task of the day when you hear rushed footsteps. Lucas scurries over to your side to leave his things then grabs some folders.
“Hey, is everything okay?” You ask the visibly stressed man next to you.
“Uh, yeah,” he responds. “Mr. Jeon called for a meeting about the Arts Center and there are changes. He wants to add something.”
“At this stage?” You ask worriedly. 
“Yeah. It seems like it’s quite a bit of work. I’m… I’m freaking out because this is a really big project and —I”
“Won’t disappoint him, I’m sure of it,” you try to comfort him. “You’ll be fine, Lucas. Just take a breath and take it one step at a time. I’ll be right here.”
You smile at him warmly, hoping that the bit of encouragement would help. The opening is a few weeks from now. At this point, focus should just be on finishing touches, finalizing government certifications, and promotion, but with how Lucas seems a bit rattled, the changes might indeed be a bit overwhelming. 
He excuses himself to prepare the conference room and get the team then leaves, and as you’re about to follow him, Jungkook exits his office then stands by the hallway. 
“Ms. Cho,” he calls out, prompting you to stay in your place. “There is no need for you to attend the meetings about the Arts Center.”
You’re taken aback by his statement but you recover. 
“But… it’s opening in a few weeks, sir. There’s lots to do, and Lucas just said there are changes,” you counter. “If there’s anything I can do to help, you know I would.”
“I know that,” he says. “And I’m saying that there’s no need this time. The team can manage. You’ve taught them well.”
“But—”
“You’ve tendered your resignation, Ms. Cho,” he reminds you, his tone a little softer than it’s been recently. “Your remaining days here are meant for turnover and mentoring Lucas in his general functions, and not to take on added or continuing responsibilities.”
He may have a point, but it doesn’t take away from your sadness over no longer knowing how the preparations are going. You’ve become invested in the Arts Center this past year, too, and while you knew you had to let that go as well, it doesn’t mean it’s easy.
“Understood, sir,” you concede, bowing your head down in submission. “I’ll continue with my reports, then.”
He just nods, and you don’t miss the tinge of apology in his eyes. He leaves, and you’re left alone again; you think that’s how you’ve been feeling all this time. 
You get on with your task, and it’s not long after when Hoseok enters, his bright smile only doing little to raise your spirits. 
“Hey, ___,” he greets. “How are you holding up?” 
“Just fine,” you try to smile. “Are you looking for Jungkook? He’s not here right now. He’s meeting the team about the Arts Center and if you’re wondering why I’m not there, it’s because he didn’t want me to be. First he replaces me, and then he excludes me and I just feel so… I…”
“Seems like you’re less than fine,” Hoseok says sullenly. “I’m so sorry, ___. I know this has been hard for you. For both of you.”
You know it is. But you suppose that you and Jungkook deal with difficulties differently. 
“You… you understand why I had to do this, right?” You ask. 
“I do,” he affirms, his eyes softening even further. “And so does Jungkook. And that’s the hard part. He doesn’t want you to go but he knows you have to do this for yourself. I guess… Your decisiveness hurt him. And with what I’m seeing now, I guess his acceptance hurt you, too.”
“I… I’m such a mess. Maybe I deserve all this,” you sigh. “How could I kiss him, push him away, leave him, want him, but can’t bring myself to be with him?”
“Because you’re human and could want things that you’re afraid of? Because it’s possible to want to find yourself while also being next to someone else yet still think it’s not enough?” Hoseok says. “It’s normal to feel all this, ___. But figuring things out also takes time. Don’t be too hard on yourself, okay? Not knowing what to do now is understandable.”
“I… I only have a few weeks left here,” you say softly. “Maybe this is how he wants this all to end.”
“What about you? Is this how you want it to end?”
“I don’t know, but maybe it’s easier,” you try to convince yourself. “It’s easier to walk away when I know I’m not wanted. Maybe that’s what I made him feel, and I can’t blame him if that’s what he wants me to feel in return.”
“Oh, ___,” Hoseok shakes his head, knowing it’s not the truth. “You and Jungkook just need to talk. Then you’d know you want the same things.”
“Maybe… but we’re not good at that. And it doesn’t mean we want the same things at the same time,” you reason. 
“So it’s about timing, then?”
“I guess. But we’re not good at that either,” you laugh dryly at the absurdity of it. “Look, even without all this, he already has a lot of things in his mind. The biggest project of his life is about to be unveiled soon and I… I have a life to live after this. I’m doing what I should’ve done years ago and the least I could do for myself is stand by the decision I made. I know I’d regret it if I stayed. I don’t want to regret the way I walked away.”
It’s a thought you’re slowly coming to, as you look back at how the week has been. You’ve been receiving nothing but praise and encouragement from your colleagues. You’ve been getting emails from various companies that want to recruit you after you put your resume through an online job site. There are so many possibilities now that you’ve put one foot out the door, and while you know of the possibilities you’re also leaving behind, you know deep down that you would’ve regretted it if you stayed, and you don’t want to tie that decision to Jungkook and end up resenting him for it.
The only thing that’s been keeping you down is what that decision is doing to you and Jungkook. It’s one you hope you’re able to fix, or at least mend enough that you’ll only have the good memories with you, and that so would he.
“I’m just really sorry,” Hoseok says, knowing that much as he’d like to help you and his cousin sort things out, it’s difficult when neither of you are unable to sort out your own feelings. “But I’m not just here to talk about that. I… I wanted to give you this.”
Hoseok hands you a sealed envelope and you look at him curiously.
“I know Jungkook gave you his recommendation letter, but I thought another one won’t hurt,” he smiles, letting you feel the warmth of it. 
You know that companies usually just call for references, but a letter like this - especially from a well-known corporation’s top executive - gives you an advantage that others don’t have. You suppose that when you received one from Jungkook, it was a show of support. You have no doubt that with Hoseok, it’s him telling you that he’ll always have your back, wherever you may be.
“Oh, Hoseok,” you say, feeling all the emotions come at once. 
It’s insane to think that almost a year ago, you were in this same spot with him encouraging and assuring you that he’ll always be around. Back then, you were anxious about being led by someone new who you knew was nothing like the man you admired. And now you’re here again, and Hoseok is giving you that same comfort that he always has, and the thought that you won’t even be in the same building as him is causing a crack in your heart. You hope one day, you’ll be able to fully express just how much his kindness has given you hope and so much to look forward to. 
“Thank you,” you smile through your glassy eyes. “You… you’ve taught me so much. I hope you know that much of the confidence I have now is because of you. I’m terrified of this new journey but I’m confident that I’ll do well. You believed in me first and I’ll never forget that.”
“Being a good leader is something I learned to become because of you, ___. And because of the team. I admire you for so many things, and I’m pretty sure that wherever you choose to go, the company will be so lucky to have you.”
“I hope so,” you remark, knowing that’s another thing you have to deal with. “I… I have a few options. A few companies have reached out but there’s a publishing house that I’m leaning towards. I met the editor some time ago and that encounter just stuck with me and I feel like that kind of environment would suit me.”
“That’s great to know,” he says excitedly. “I can’t wait to hear about it. A-yeong and I will take you out to dinner once things have settled down, okay?”
“That would be great. I can’t wait for that, too.”
Hoseok bids you goodbye, leaving you alone with your thoughts for the next two hours. Whatever changes are happening with the Arts Center must be big, as it’s taking the team this long to iron things out. 
It’s close to lunch time when the meeting ends. Jungkook walks in while on a call, while Lucas sits next to you looking a little stressed.
“Everything alright?” You ask.
“Yeah. There are just last minute changes but Mr. Jeon’s on top of it,” Lucas says. “He just wants us to make sure we’re on top of the other things and I’m honestly still familiarizing myself with the details of the Arts Center. I’m just nervous I’m gonna miss something.”
“Hey, that’s what I’m here for,” you assure him. “I know you were just thrust into this at such a critical time where you don’t have much leeway to adjust and that’s on me and I’m sorry. But that’s also why I’m gonna make sure that I’ll help you as much as I can.”
“Thanks, I need that,” Lucas sighs. “I can’t help but think that a year ago, I was almost supposed to be here. I mean, we can talk about it now. Mr. Jeon said he planned on taking me with him because he doesn’t want a new assistant that he has to get used to, you know? I always knew he hated change and I was the one thing that was familiar but it didn’t work out. Even I knew it wasn’t gonna happen - CEO Jeon approves these appointments and the EA of the VP needs to be familiar with the company culture and process and I wasn’t. I wasn’t really upset but I let myself think of living in Seoul for a short while and it seemed exciting. But things happen for a reason, and I think if I had to adjust then while helping Mr. Jeon with this project, I probably would’ve caved in and quit.”
Lucas turns to you with a smile. “What I mean to say is that, I admire you so much for being able to manage all this. And I know I have incredibly big shoes to fill and I think I’m more terrified about that, but I’m really thankful that you’re there to guide me, ___. Whatever tip and strategy and cheat sheet you can provide will be much appreciated.”
“Of course,” you assure him. “I’ve got spreadsheets and checklists and profiles and guidelines to turn over to you. And I’m always a call away, okay?”
He nods in gratitude, and you tell him that you both have time to sort through all those and that you’ll be finished in time for your last day. You agree on having lunch together so you could talk about the Board members and the other executives, and he says he has to see Jungkook first to get his signatures for some documents.
“Oh, can you, uh, can you give this to him, too?” You ask, passing him your leave request. It was during your time alone when you decided when to take them, knowing that you’re gonna slowly have to get used to being away from this place as well.
Lucas takes it then returns shortly after with your signed form. There’s relief in knowing you get to organize your life somehow. There are interviews to attend and a lot of your things to fix. There are feelings to make sense of, too. 
And as you and Lucas talk about his move and the worry and excitement he feels, you think that you’ve got to stop thinking of goodbyes. There’s a life for you out there, and if by some way you find Jungkook in there, too, then at least you’d know you chose him, and that if he’d forgiven you then, then you’re assured that he’s chosen you, too.
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You spend the entirety of Tuesday orienting Lucas about your spreadsheets and other files, and you both come up with a system that suits his style of work. Jungkook was out the whole day, and though you suppress the feeling of missing him, it’s one that haunts you until you lay in your bed that night.
You take the rest of the week off. You spend Wednesday cleaning your apartment and then having dinner with the elderly couple next door who amuse you with their love story and memories of their youth. 
You meet Namjoon on Thursday for that official interview he’s been waiting for. You can’t help but envision yourself in the office with the dynamism of the teams and the laid-back feel of the entire space. You’d commit yourself right then and there if it didn’t make you look that desperate, but it’s Namjoon who encourages you to go to the other interviews you have lined up. 
It’s a risk, he says; he might lose you if another more appealing company states their case. But he wants you to choose them without regrets; he wants you to choose them because you’ve seen what’s out there and decided that they’re who you want and who you see yourself being happy in. You don’t miss his slightly nervous face when you agree, but you suppose that if you’re going to do this now, might as well do it right.
You go to two other interviews that Friday, and while trying out events management was always in the back of your mind, it’s nice to see just how the job and the tasks excite you.
It’s the first time you’re feeling like you actually have options. Back then, even if there were other opportunities, you chose working for the Jeons because of a debt you felt you had to pay. You limited your own choices, but now, you feel what it’s like to take control of your own life, and it’s liberating to not have any baggage with you this time around. 
Jimin and Soomin pay you a visit that weekend. They drive you around, thinking that the beauty of spring would inspire you even more. It’s fitting, they say, as you start a new phase in your life while the flowers bloom and greet you. But as you pass by a park and see the colors of the sky and buy some convenience store snacks on the way home, you can’t help but think of Jungkook.
Missing him feels a little odd. You didn’t know what it felt like until his trip at the end of last year, but you always knew he was gonna come back. This time, you’re unsure of when you’ll see him again. You spent time with him in a work environment, so being away from him and doing everyday things shouldn’t even affect you this much. But you suppose it’s the idea of what could have been that you miss, even if you don’t really know what that’s like. 
You spend Monday and Tuesday the next week the same way. There’s just one executive meeting each day that you attend to assess how Lucas manages it, but other than that, you barely see Jungkook in the office. He stays in his room all morning then heads out in the afternoon, and you leave before he could even make it back. It reminds you that you truly left him at a critical time. You don’t know if he’s eating well, if he’s getting proper rest, if he’s tending a bruised knuckle or dealing with a headache. You don’t know if the stress is getting to him, if the anxiety is slowly building up, or if it’s just excitement he feels and that he can’t wait for everything to come together. 
You hope for his sake, it’s the latter. You want nothing more than to assure him that things will turn out the way he wants, that the intended audience will love the Arts Center, and that he’s already achieved so much with just this. You hope he’s proud of himself the way you are, and that he knows that if there’s anything he leaves you with, it’s your own pride that you got to be part of something beautiful, and it’s that search for connection and intimacy and meaning that got you yearning for those things, too. 
You take the rest of the week off again. You run errands one day, go to an interview the next, and then walk around town the day after. It feels like you’re back to that state of being alone but not feeling lonely; there’s just that added sense of freedom this time. 
You’re not stressed about work. Time isn’t flying too fast. You don’t feel like you’re rushing, going from one task to another for the sake of it. You have space to think and feel. Even at such a short period of time, you’re learning what things excite you and what you want to explore. And that’s liberating, now that you’re able to pull yourself out of the routine that contained you for years, one that made you believe it was all you had and all you deserved. You think that this isn't so bad, and the constant sadness you feel slowly fades away as the days pass.
But then you return to work on Monday - your final week - and the illusion breaks. 
Lucas has to meet with the marketing department, so he asks you to prepare Jungkook’s coffee in the morning. You feel quite sentimental doing it, as you know that there probably won’t be a next time.   
You knock on the door, and when he asks you to come in, you suddenly feel anxious. You place the cup on his desk, making sure you put the biscuits like you always do. 
Jungkook senses when you step back, lingering like you’ve been doing the few times you’ve done it. You used to do it because you expected he’d have something to ask you whenever you entered his room. But recently, he feels it’s you just waiting - for him to say something, perhaps, or for you to find the courage to speak up.
But you never do. And he never says what he really wants to. 
“It’s your last week, Ms. Cho,” he states, focusing on his iPad screen so as not to torture himself with the sight of you. “How’s your clearance going?”
“Uh, it is, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “Finance and HR have cleared me. IT and security will clear me on my last day. And I’ll submit to you my final deliverables on Wednesday. You can sign off my form then.”
He nods, and you torture yourself by standing by even if he doesn’t seem to have anything else to say. You’re about to excuse himself when he speaks again.
“Please free up your Friday evening. We’ll have a team send-off dinner for you.”
“I, uh. Understood, sir. Thank you.”
He nods once more, and it’s your signal to leave. He’s never felt so far away, but you suppose it’s the kind of distance you need. 
You walk back to your seat, the reality of your last week hitting you, especially when you find Do-hyun and Yohan by your desk, looking somber as they reach out for a hug. You return it, with Do-hyun pointing it out, and she frowns when you say that you’ll be without it for a long time. 
“Is everything alright?” You ask them. 
“Yes,” they respond in unison. 
“We just want to spend as much time with you as we can,” Yohan states. “I know we’ve all been busy but… it’s your last week. So let’s have lunch today, and any other day when you’re free. Please?”
“Of course,” you say. “Food hall today?”
They nod excitedly, and you spend your lunch time at the outdoor space, laughing about, with Lucas slowly but surely finding his place within the team. 
That afternoon, Yoongi drops by and says he has lots of things going on because of the changes Jungkook is making, but he’ll meet you when you want to. He reminds you that he’s there when you need him; he’ll turn down the other man if it comes down to it. But he’ll drop by everyday until your last day, he says; he doesn’t want to feel like he didn't see you enough. 
You assure him that he’s the one person you’d definitely meet up with outside of work, and so there’s no limit when it comes to him. 
On Tuesday, you have lunch with some people from the marketing department whom you’ve gotten close to these past months, and on Wednesday, Bitna and the other assistants take you out to dinner. 
CEO Jeon and Hoseok take you out to lunch on Thursday, stating that they wanted to check in and ask what your plans are. They assure you that they’re there should you need support in any way; the company is likewise always going to have a place for you. And with the sincerity in their eyes and their hope of you finding your place and your happiness, you know they mean well. So you take that time to ask for advice, too. 
It ends in laughter, as you recall your early days at the company and the mishaps with Hoseok. You talk about some of the issues you’ve been privy to and some details about your life that they missed. Talking with them feels comfortable now that there’s an acknowledgment of your ties to their family. You can tell that despite of and after everything, CEO Jeon truly cares for you and your mother, and that he’ll be eternally sorry yet grateful to both of you. 
You’re thankful that they don’t mention Jungkook. You wouldn’t know how to react if they did, especially since you’ve barely seen him all week. Missing him has become natural that you’ve just accepted it, including the fact that you can’t do anything about it. Maybe you’ll always be too scared to let him know, too. 
It’s Friday before you know it. You manage to get everything done on time, and Jungkook calls you to his office that morning to return your signed clearance form. You hate how you’re both back to this tense dynamic whenever you enter his room - lingering looks, clenched jaws, deafening silence… and words you want to say and hear but know you never would. You’re both not built for that, you think; there’s always so much to feel but not enough courage to face them. 
This room holds so many memories - when he got mad, when you stood up to him, when he said he needed your help, when he kissed you and you kissed him back… when you pushed him away. 
But this isn’t where you say goodbye. There’s still that team dinner tonight and you hope you get to leave him with a proper farewell and a sincere expression of thanks for all that he’s taught you. You want to wish him good luck on the Arts Center opening. You want to tell him that you believe he’ll keep doing great things, you want to remind him to take proper rest, to take his breaks seriously, and to enjoy all that’s ahead of him. 
So you settle for a smile, as genuine as you can make it, before heading out and closing the door behind you. 
You return to your desk and go over some other things with Lucas that he needs clarifications on. You both spend lunch with the team and then resume your final turnover. 
It’s shortly after 3 PM when Jungkook comes out of his room with his bag in hand, and he instructs Lucas to get some blueprints from Chin-sun before they both leave to go to the Arts Center for a visit. The man next to you gets up and tells you he’ll see you at dinner, leaving you and Jungkook alone this time. 
It’s that lingering look again and he stays rooted in his spot, his eyes getting more distant as the seconds pass. 
“I wish you well, ___,” he says, the use of your name with words that seem like goodbye causing a crack in your heart. “Good luck. And thank you.”
He doesn’t wait for a response as he leaves right after, and you’re left with your heart in your hands, one that keeps calling his name. You think it will continue to do that after all this. 
You spend the rest of the afternoon packing your things and entertaining all those who drop by to say goodbye. Yoongi messages to say he’s out on a project site but that he’ll see you soon, and it’s something you look forward to after things have settled down. 
You find yourself in a private room at a nice restaurant with the team not long after. You can order anything, you’re told, and Do-hyun and Yohan don’t hesitate on choosing the dishes that they wouldn’t have been able to eat if it wasn’t for their boss paying for this meal. 
“Shouldn’t we wait for Lucas and Mr. Jeon?” You ask, looking around and feeling incomplete. 
“This dinner is for you, and you’re here,” Do-hyun points out. “But I guess we can wait.”
You settle for some appetizers and get to talking. They’re less sentimental than they were a few weeks ago. They say they’ve made peace with everything and are just happy that you’re able to take a break and have time for yourself before going back to the grind. It’s all talk and laughter, and when Lucas arrives, everybody cheers because then, you can all have your food served.
“Where’s Mr. Jeon?” Do-hyun asks before you do. 
“He’s at the Arts Center dealing with the laborers and the design team,” Lucas says regrettably. “Seems like there’s too much work and he can’t make it to dinner. I doubt he even eats at this point. He’s there every afternoon and doesn’t leave until late at night.”
“Is everything alright?” You ask, a mix of worry and sadness at how much he’s pushing himself, and that he didn’t even have the heart to see you one last time.
Perhaps that short exchange earlier was his final goodbye, you think. And now you wouldn’t even be able to say yours. 
“Yeah, you know how he is when he focuses on something,” Lucas sighs. “He just locks in and doesn’t care about anything else. He’s always been like that and I guess that hasn’t changed. But he did say he wants us to enjoy tonight, so order anything you want and he’ll take care of it.”
You mask the disappointment by laughing through Do-hyun and Yohan arguing about the best way to attack the menu, but you can’t help the way your eyes flit to the door every time it opens, hoping Jungkook would walk through it. But it’s never him.
Mr. Ri walks in right as the main dishes are served, and you look at him in question. He returns your dejected look with a shake of his head, as if he knows what you're thinking. 
You suppose that this is how Jungkook wanted to end things - by not showing up, by leaving the wound uncovered. You didn’t realize it would hurt like this. 
Maybe you deserve it. Maybe you don’t. But with the empty seat on the table reminding you of the man who chose to not give you a final goodbye because you’d done yours so certainly, you’re starting to think that it doesn’t really matter. He gets to choose how he deals with this, like he said. And you have no choice but to do the same.
You try your hardest to keep up with the team’s energy. They’re at least no longer crying, although you wish they were so you’d have a reason to cry yourself, because that’s what you’re trying hard not to do. It’s probably because of the sadness at knowing that you won’t experience this with them anymore; you won’t share the laughter and the stories that you used to. Everything is sinking in already, and it’s reality hitting you that you’re really going to start a new journey soon, and that you had to let go of someone incredibly important for that to happen. 
The Jungkook-shaped hole in your life will probably get bigger as the days pass, but that’s just another thing missing that you’ll have to find substitutes for, just like you do for everything else. 
You manage to get through dinner with dry eyes, even when you’re presented with farewell gifts. Lucas hands you a large box - a present from the VP’s Office, he says, and you smile in awe when you see a coffee pod maker that’s a similar version to the one you have at the pantry. 
“You won’t be going around making other people’s coffee anymore,” Manager Lee says. “So this is for your home. You’ll be on-the-go and busy but at least you’ll have this. It’s also so you’ll always remember us.”
“It’s also how I started,” you point out, recalling your internship days at the company. “But this is great. Please uh, please thank Mr. Jeon for me.”
“And this is from us,” Do-hyun smiles, handing you another box. “Like, this is from our own pockets. And we thought of every single thing in there so don’t forget about us. Ever.”
You open it and find a lot of the things that they know you can’t live without - a tumbler, a mug, notebooks, colored pens and highlighters, post-its, little jars of snacks and candies. There are also self-care items like scented candles and essential oils. In a little bag, there are two disposable cameras and vouchers to your local theater. 
And underneath all of those is a complete photo of your team, the one taken during your team building not long ago. Everyone looks refreshed and carefree. Including you. And then there’s Jungkook next to you, hands in his pockets and sporting what you know is a genuine smile. It’s a good reminder of your time together, and despite everything, you’re glad you have something to always keep close to you.
You return their hugs, each one carrying so much care and warmth that you missed out on because you were never one to accept them, to ask for them. You finally say goodbye and make a promise that you’ll catch up with them one of these days, one you know you’ll keep.
You all walk out. Mr. Ri helps you with your things then leads you towards the car. 
“Last one for old time’s sake,” he smiles at you. “And it’s late. Let me drive you home.”
You don’t resist, knowing that as someone who’s looked after you for so many years, never faltering in his commitment to your mother or you, you’re truly going to miss him. 
Sitting on the passenger seat, you look out the window and try to amuse yourself with the scenes outside. There are cars passing by and people trying to get home, probably grateful that another week is over. You wonder how many of them are nursing broken hearts, or are running away from something, or are hoping someone they pushed away comes back. 
The tears are falling before you know it, and as you try to hold in your sniffles, you see Mr. Ri from your periphery glance at you before turning on the radio, gradually making the music louder so as to drown out your sounds. That continues for a while until the streets start to look familiar. Somehow, you dread going home - being alone at a time like this feels a little too much, but maybe you deserve that, too. 
You arrive at your apartment, and Mr. Ri helps you in bringing all your stuff inside. He stays by the door and his soft eyes prompt you to speak.
“I thought he’d come,” you whisper. “I thought I’d see him one last time. He… he couldn’t even say goodbye.”
“You know it’s not always easy for people to do that,” he says. “Letting you go was hard enough. What if he says something that would push you even farther away?”
“I can’t be any farther than I am right now,” you sigh. “But we did this to each other. I didn’t want to stay and he… just let me walk away. I hurt him but everything else after hurt me, too. And I… I wish it didn’t. I—”
You’re unable to speak as you cry once more, all the conflicting emotions suffocating you from within. And all Mr. Ri can do is wipe your tears with his handkerchief and hope that could stop them somehow.
“This hurts me,” he utters the words so softly and so heavy with emotion. “It’s like watching my daughter get her heart broken.”
It’s what makes you smile, and you take the piece of cloth from him and dry your eyes.
“I could’ve been,” you say, knowing that he wanted a family at one point.
“That’s true. But most times I think that I would’ve been too burdened by what I’ve done that I wouldn’t have been able to love your mother the way she deserves,” he reasons. “And I’ll always think that I let her go so that she could find someone like Min-woo who’d love her without reservations, who’d be able to give her a life that she’d always dreamed to have and to give you.”
Mr. Ri recalls his own decisions and the heartbreaks that followed right after. They conflicted him, too, but in life, knowing what you want doesn’t always mean you get to express it the way you want to. Sometimes doing it makes it harder for everyone involved, and that’s what he thinks is what’s happening with you and Jungkook, too.
“I think it’s what Jungkook has learned,” he continues. “He has to let you go so you could find whatever happiness it is that you couldn’t find where you are. And as for you, you have to know that letting someone go right now doesn’t mean you can’t ever have them again. You just have to stop thinking you don’t deserve to want it.”
You take his words to heart as you bid him goodbye, and they stay in your head as you force yourself to sleep later that night. 
You don’t know what kind of happiness you’re searching for. You don’t even know what happiness could truly be like with Jungkook, and the thought that maybe you’ll never know starts to scare you. It’s one you think you’d like to one day experience. But how could you when you pushed him away? Is it even something you could still want, given what you’ve done? Is it something he’d want to know as well? In the midst of the mess you created, could it still happen? 
You’re reminded of what CEO Jeon had said not long ago, and you try to comfort yourself with it. You crossed paths with Jungkook for a reason. You’ve started to believe that you’re losing him for a reason. You just have to trust that if it’s meant to be, you’ll find him again for a reason as well. 
You just hope that when you do, he’ll take you back again, ask you to stay, and you’ll be able to tell him with your whole heart that you will. And that it’s something you won’t ever regret.
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footygirl114 · 2 days
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Soldado (Alexia Putellas X Reader)
One of the prompts inspired me, so here ya go. It's definitely rusty but please let me know what we think!
Prompt: “Don’t just say that and then walk away!”
Walking up to the front door of the Putella’s home was one the most nerve wracking experiences you have ever experienced in your first 18 years of life. This home had become your sanctuary in the last 3 years, the family had taken you in and made sure you were loved and cared for and in return all you did was ruin the best and only friendship you ever had. 
You had grown up with an absent mother and a drunk father, to say your childhood had been rough was an understatement. You were able to fend for your self by the age of 6 and you knew to hide whenever your father came home after 8pm. When he wasn’t drunk he was a half caring father, but you could never shake the black eyes and bruises you learned to hide. The only good thing he ever did for you was to make sure by the age of 15 you had been a good enough football player to be in the training with the Espanyol team. 
This is where you met Alexia Putellas, she was this young superstar but she still befriended you. It didn’t take her long to see through the lies of where the bruises came from, and one late practice where you avoided going home she got you to spill the truth. From then on she made sure that holidays, school vacations, and everything in between you were invited to stay with her family. 
Her mom became like a mother you never had, and Alba was the sister you never had. But Alexia she just always remained Alexia, you never knew what that meant until you turned 18. You had finally realised that she was more than just anything to you, and that you were madly in love with her. Never being able to keep a secret from her, you confessed your feelings to her 3 weeks ago and you haven’t heard from her since she walked away without responding. 
Which brings you back to today, trying to work up the courage to knock on the door of the only place you would ever consider a home ready to say your goodbyes to the family you wish you still had. The last 3 weeks have been a whirlwind, and it took your drunk father almost breaking your arm and sending you to the ER to finally realise you needed to get out. You had walked the streets of Barcelona aimlessly trying to find a solution, and when the universe showed you a sign you jumped at it. 
Shaking your head you gained the courage to reach up and knock at the door of the house. While you wait for someone to answer you hope that you can get this out without breaking down. 
When the door opens you come face to face with Alba and you say softly “Hola, Albs.”
Alba smiles softly and leans against the door, blocking your way in, and she asks “what are you doing here Y/N?” 
“I need to talk to Ale” you tell her deciding not to drag this out. 
She crosses her arms over her chest and asks “Why would I let you do that? She shut down and hasn’t said anything for the last weeks and we haven’t seen you, you must have hurt her Y/N.” 
Shaking your head you tell her “I never meant to do that Alba, but I promise I just need to tell her one thing and then I am gone.” You know you sound like your begging and you hope the desperation in your voice helps. 
Before she can respond Alexia shows up at the door behind her sister and says “Alba its okay I got it.” 
Alba turns and looks to her and then turns back to you and says “if you hurt her again I will hurt you.” She finishes with a glare and then moves back into the house. 
Alexia steps outside on the porch with you and softly shuts the door. You take a moment to take her in, knowing this will be the last time you may see the women who has your heart. She’s in her most comfortable state, a pair of footy shorts, a soft hoodie (you note is one of yours) and barefoot.
You both stand there in silence for a minute and she finally breaks it and says “I am not ready to talk to you about it.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I came here to tell you one thing and then I will be out of your hair, you wont need to worry about avoiding me” you tell her softly. 
“what? Y/N whats going on?” she asks softly stepping closer to you. 
You take a step back and say “I’m leaving, I quit the team and I joined the army. I know you don’t understand it but I need to not be here anymore, and I need to do something thats for me, and will ensure I get away from him.” 
She stares at you and doesn’t say anything but a soft “Y/N.”
“No, don’t do that, this isn’t about you this is for me. I love you Alexia and I will always be in love with you but I cant stay on the side line of my own life anymore, I need to become the best person  I can be and get out from this dark cloud that is hanging over here. Its for the best, I cant wait to see you become the superstar I know you will be, but I cant do that here, watching it and knowing that you don’t love me back, that you aren’t in love with me. So this is goodbye Ale” 
You slowly move down the stairs and move to wipe the tears under your eyes, and you make it to the end of the walkway when she moves and says “Don’t just say that and walk away from me Y/N! Thats not fair.” 
You pause and turn your head towards her and says “what’s not fair is losing everything I have ever wanted because I have never been able to lie to you, I am doing something for me and you have to understand that.” 
You don’t let her add or say anything else as you turn your back on her and move to your car, you hop in and start the engine driving away to your new life without looking back. 
8 YEARS LATER
After 8 years of being a proper solider and training to better your self, you were finally able to settle down, and of course Barcelona would always have a hold on your heart. During your basic training your superiors noticed how easy it was for you to learn and communicate in many languages, add in that you knew how to fight and take it hit it made you the perfect soldier for a special ops team. 
During your 8 years of active duty you spent 3 tours in Iraq, Afghanistan and other War torn countries. And when you were not on tour you were either in the UK or the USA learning and bettering your skills to be a better help for the team. It was a long 8 years of constantly being on the go and when an offer came up to go back to Barcelona and be no longer on active duty you took it. 
They wanted your skills to help teach younger inexperienced soldiers and you craved the freedom and your bones ached for a stable home for your self. The Barcelona Police force hired you and were more than happy to have you work for them and also assist the army in their training. 
Barcelona was where you had your own personal demons, and you knew after 8 years of running it was finally time to slow down and face those demons head on. It helped you were much stronger and mentally tougher then when you were 18 and you knew you needed to face them head on. 
What you didn’t expect was to have to face one of them only a month into your new life in Barcelona. You had been out on patrol with your partner and were called to an assault at one of the smaller beaches in town. You got out of the passenger seat of the car and did a scan of the surroundings and you noticed a small crowd gathered at the edge of the sand and one person lying on the ground. 
You met your partners eye and you both walked over, you with your military training on high alert, one hand on the hilt of the gun at your hip, your eyes roaming the surroundings. When you got closer to the crowd you almost stopped, when you noticed who was standing off on the edge of the crowd but you pushed through when you saw the guy on the ground get up and start to run at someone else in the crowd. You and your partner both sprang into action and got in between them and the guy you were holding tried to take a swing at the other and you easily subdued him and had him on his back with his hands locked behind his back in the blink of an eye. 
Once he was secure with the handcuffs on your hip you hopped up and hauled him up with you, you turned and met your partners eyes who nodded at you and had his guy also in cuffs. He turned to the crowd and asked for any witnesses to what happened, as you moved your guy to the car and sat him in the back seat. 
You sat him down and asked him his side of the story. After listening to his side you closed the door and left him in the car as a second patrol car rolled up for the second guy. You nodded to them and mentioned the guy int he back of your car and you walked back to the crowd. You took a deep breath and readied your self to face the first of your demons. 
“Who’s next to be interviewed?” you asked your partner as you walked up beside him, and he pointed to the group of 3 girls to the left.
Moving towards them you introduced your self “Hola, I am Officer Y/L/N and I will need to see your IDs and then I can take your statement.” They all handed their IDs over and as you were matching them and recording their names and information you couldn’t help but take a peak at the women who held your heart. 
You hadn’t seen her since that day 8 years ago on her mothers front steps, you had followed her career and you knew she was in the middle of a miracle season and she was on track to win everything. Seeing her on the computer screen through a grainy stream wasn’t the same as seeing her in person. Just looking at her was slowly igniting that spark inside you that you thought you had buried 8 years ago. 
“Can one of you tell me what happened?” you ask them ready to take notes and keep this professional. 
“so basically, we were lying here and the guy in your car came up and started to give us a bit of a hard time, but were used to it. SO we told him to leave us alone, and then the guy there with your partner walked up and tried to defend us, and the other guy just threw a punch at him.” You had their IDs so you knew this was Maria Leon who explained it. 
“they started going at each other and thats when Ale called 911, the commotion drew more people over and they stopped fighting when they had a crowd and then you guys showed up.” Jennifer Hermoso explained the rest to you. 
“thank you, so to be clear, the one in the back of the car threw the first punch and harassed you?” you asked wanting to finish this up. 
Maria smiled and said “I wouldn’t say harassed, we can take care of ourselves, but yes he started it and threw the first punch.”
“And you both agree?” you ask.
“Yep, he did” Jennifer agrees. 
Alexia just nods and remains silent through the whole exchange. You nod and say “okay this clears things up, someone may be in touch but you are free to go.”
The two of them smile and say their thanks and move to leave, but Alexia remains standing in front of you silent. 
“ale you coming?” Jennifer asks her and it seems to shake her out of it and she nods and moves to gather her stuff. 
You nod at nothing and move to go back to your partner, you both agree you to the statement you got from different people and then you move to walk back to the car together. Before you can get half way there you turn back and look toward Alexia and you meet her eyes, as she’s still watching you. 
It takes your partner nudging you for you to break contact and you move to get into the car. before you can fully sit you hear “Officer Y/LN” yelled out behind you and you turn and see Alexia moving quickly towards you, you close the door and step towards her and away from your partner hearing the exchange. 
“Yes Alexia?” you ask her softly as she stops a foot from you. 
“You’re back?” she asks you to the point. 
“I am” 
“for good?” she asks you again straight to the point.
“I think so yeah” 
“okay then.” she says and moves to walk away. 
“thats it?” you ask her confused. 
She shrugs and half turns to you and says “How does it feel being on the other end of someone walking way from you? It sucks, being left to wonder what they mean and what they are going to do.” 
You can feel the pang in your heart listening to how broken she sounds and you ask her “Can we talk about it?” 
“now you want to talk? What happened to talking 8 years ago?” she turns on you half shouting and you know that she’s drawn and scene. 
“ale, please can we talk somewhere not here, and not when I am on duty?” you ask her. 
She looks around and shakes her head and says “you know where to find me, if you even want to.” As she finishes she jogs away towards her friends and you are left standing there wondering if this is a demon you will be able to tame, or if you were doomed to be in love with someone you can never have. 
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peachesofteal · 2 days
Text
Ghoap x female reader / 18+
Everything was fine.
Your phone was quiet, but that didn’t mean anything. You would wait. You’ve waited before.
Sometimes it took a while for them to ring. They had a life together, a home, things to take care of. They had lives to rebuild every time they touched down, got home, got out of their work clothes. Pieces to patch, blood to wash clean.
You weren’t their girlfriend. They aren’t beholden to you, there’s no sacred vow tethering the three of you, no promises or pledges. You don’t know Johnny’s middle name, or Simon’s, anything about their families, their private lives. You barely knew about their jobs, only holding the scraps tossed to questions lobbed back and forth across pillows. They leave little marks across your mind, little spots of scars, knowledge scratched into your skin, sunk into your body, but never too much.
You weren’t a part of their life, really.
You were a part of the dark hours. The soft ones. You were in the orange rays of sunlight cresting over the city, and the emerald abyss of pitch black night. You were the flickering yellow street light, the grey blue smoke of Simon’s cigarette. The in between. Here in the moment, gone with morning.
For months, you had spent their time home pressed between them, folded beneath them, balanced above them. They made you sing. Made you scream, made you cry.
But most of all, they made sure-
you understood the status quo.
“Say it.” Simon cradled your jaw, thumb and finger full of steel, like he was oblivious to Johnny beneath you, his cock sliding in and out of your body, his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, your back to his chest, eyes wide and mouth agape, Simon did not flinch.
“I- I’m not-“ a gasp, a groan, words bitten off when Johnny strokes faster, curved deep against the spot that makes you see stars. Sweat builds across your skin, slicking down your spine, and Johnny chases it, tongue sweeping salt clean. You swallow to try again. “I’m not- not yours.”
“Not ours.” Simon’s fingers wrapped around the engorged length of his cock, stroking leisurely, eyes half lidded. “You’re not ours, sweet girl. But we’ll take care of you, when you’re here.”
So, you fell into it. Fell into them. Got comfortable waiting for the phone to ring, going weeks or months at a time- holding your breath. You got into a rhythm, syncopated behind the swell of their voices, their bodies, their souls. Along for the ride. A passenger.
It was fine. You weren’t looking for anything serious anyway. Maybe someone to hang out with here and there, grab a drink, have some fun. All of these things, they gave you. All of these things were provided. Granted, you only went out with them to a dive around the corner, a dark, bottomless place with tar licked floors and worn away wooden bar. The kind with dusty stained glass pendants swinging over pool tables that have seen better days, wrought iron back patio furniture that squeaked when Simon would pull you onto his lap and hook the hem of your panties to the side to stare at your pussy, hungry and desperate glint in his gaze under the silver glow of moonlight. He’d flip up your dress and stroke you with the back of his knuckles, just the down the seam, cooing, telling you how lovely you look, asking how much you missed them.
They never took you out for meals, or dates, or anything like that. They kept you in bed, buried beneath them, wrung out, drained dry. They took and took and took until you had nothing left to give. They’d feed you, make you come, fill you up and put you to sleep. Rinse and repeat.
And it was all… fine.
Even tonight was fine. Johnny had emailed, said they were back in service range and they’d be around soon, if you weren’t busy. Typically, a phone call came later. Late, in small hours, when half the city slept.
So when you fell asleep to nothing, you weren’t surprised. They’d catch up with you.
They always did.
You didn’t hear from them the next day. You forced it away easily, didn’t let the unease nag at you, pasted a smile on your face for your friends when you agreed to meet them for dinner.
No strings. You’re not their girlfriend, you’re not theirs. You’re cool. It’s cool. You’re fine.
Besides, your friend had gotten a reservation at a very nice restaurant in one of those shiny new hotels that just went up.
You shoved the boys from your mind.
You were the cool girl. You were unaffected.
You’re fine.
“So how’s work?”
“Oh, it’s fine. You know, same shit different day.” You roll your eyes, touch light on the thin stem of a wine glass. The red is a shade darker than your nails, and your lips, and it tastes like sweet cherries soaked in acid. Stringent. Sweet. You’re about to reciprocate the question when the bulk of a man catches your eye, handsome width of a shoulder you’d know from a mile away.
Interest in your friend’s conversation evaporates, and your tongue turns tarnished, sticking in the back of your throat like an overgrown thorn.
It’s Simon. Your heart pounds, and you drink in the sight greedily, elated to see him outside of their flat, or in the bar. Thrilled to get a glimpse of him in the real world, in a restaurant, a real, tangible place, in a real, tangible moment.
“I’ll… be right back.” You manage, slipping from the both to the wall, openly gaping across a room full of diners. As he moves, you mirror it, coming closer and closer to a hallway, a lead off down to the bathrooms.
“Simon.” His name slips from your lips without permission, a build up of excitement and anxiety, all twisted into one heap that darts out in front of your intentions, your resolve. Not cool.
You expect him to be surprised, certainly. You expect to see that small spark, the little fire burning behind his irises, expect him sweep the length of your body.
You don’t expect the surprise to be blanketed with the white fog of indifference. The grey slab of a stone wall.
It confuses you. Startles you. And when you take a step-
Johnny turns the corner, an arm slung around the waist of a pretty, thin, blonde.
His lips part, brows knitting together in slow motion. The girl, their date, it seems, is oblivious. She only bats her eyelashes at Simon and then gazes up at Johnny, sweet and hopeful.
You turn cold. Your fingers go frigid, ice cracking through your veins and attacking your heart, slowing your pulse.
The room spins.
And you’re alone in it. Dining room chatter falls away, drowned out by the thrumming between your ears.
You’re alone. Alone, staring at them, trying to piece it all together, trying to breathe, trying to be-
Cool.
“I uh…” You teeter, precarious in your shoes that now feel like a mistake, like your dress is a mistake, being here is a mistake, getting up from the table-
You’re not their girlfriend. You’re not theirs.
“I’m just gonna… go.” You begin to backpedal. Johnny says your name, says it quietly, and takes a step, lurching forward, an animated corpse seeking its last meal.
“Bonnie, ye-“
“I’ll see you around.” You blurt, stepping back out of reach. Johnny’s fist clenches, and he casts a dubious glance towards Simon, who’s tense and focused on you. “See ya.” You croak, and then spin on your heel, trembling all the way out the door and into the cold, crisp air.
Very uncool.
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some-bunniii · 3 days
Text
Lucifer dotes on a mama!reader
・❥ Caring for an infant isn’t easy, but luckily, you’ve got a charming king willing to do anything for you.
| Part 1 | Part 2 |
x: reader is fem, no use of y/n.
xx: it’s here! a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, but lots of think you’ll enjoy it! keep your eyes out for some pretty art i commissioned inside!
~ 15k words
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When you welcomed your daughter into the realm, and finally reached that next long stretch of motherhood, you had prepared yourself for the many changes that accompanied the new addition.
For example, your sleep schedule flipped entirely on its head once you realized that newborn babies slept only a few hours intermittently, which meant a good, long night's rest did not exist anymore. 
You found yourself putting your daughter down for a nap at six in the morning, having spent the previous night breastfeeding and soothing her cries. Sometimes, her wailing lasted several hours, and you began to worry if she had a hellish form of colic. You prayed it wasn’t that, because that would mean it would worsen for the next month or so.
The first few weeks were spent holed up in your room, away from the loud noises and constant active state of the rest of the hotel. It was pretty easy, seeing as it was basically a studio apartment, save for the kitchen, which was an exhausting walk down the hall, even more so than when you were pregnant. 
“Ya look terrible, mama,” Angel Dust had grimaced with a laugh when you appeared like a ghost late one night inside the much posher lobby, your complexion sunken and drained as your feet dragged across the red carpet.
He had just arrived home from a long day at the studio, his expression equally as drained but his demeanor much livelier than your zombie appearance.
You probably did look terrible, in your oversized pajamas that no doubt had stains of baby spit-up and breast milk. You looked unsightly, a mess, that pregnancy glow extinguished like a flame as you tiredly frog blinked in Angel’s direction. 
“Need… to clean the milk bottles… before she wakes up,” you mumbled, lifting three small, dirty baby bottles to view.
“Ya need any help?”
“No, thanks. M’fine,” you waved him off with a yawn, slowly crossing the room towards the kitchen doors. 
There was no reason to bother him with such a task, it was your baby, and he already had enough to deal with at the studio.
“Well, have a good time then. I'm jus’ gonna call it an early night an’ head ta bed,” Angel replied, bidding farewell as he turned and left the lobby. 
Your head twisted to catch a glimpse of his figure turning the corner, surprise crossing your features at his sudden departure. Usually, Angel Dust had a couple of drinks after work or went out to party until the early hours of the morning. 
Tonight, the only thing on the spider demon’s mind was to curl up with Fat Nuggets and sleep those troubling emotions away.
He had been drinking far less lately, or, at least, had been keeping his habits away from the hotel ever since the new hotel was built and your daughter was born. No more did the pornstar burst in after a night at the studio, eyes red and speech slurred as he spoke gibberish and laughed at nothing in particular. 
Even though it was Hell, you were determined to keep the gateways into a chaotic life away from your daughter. She was going to have the best quality of life possible in such a place, and you were vocal about your disapproval of those habits, especially in a place that’s supposed to be free of such sin.
When Cherri began staying longer and longer at the hotel, you were apprehensive at first with how much deeper she seemed to be in ‘the life’. Would she sink further into the depths after Sir. Pentious’ death? It wasn’t easy for someone to deal with both grief and guilt at the same time. 
Fortunately, she had the support of the residents inside the hotel, and she was finding healthier outlets than a thin line of white powder to quell her pain. 
You were grieving too, even if you hadn’t known Sir. Pentious that long in comparison to the others, the little time you spent with him was all but enough. 
Sir. Pentious was kind, and courteous, and made the best cookies you’d ever tasted. You had a connection with the snake demon with your shared enjoyment in cooking, and you welcomed the assistance of his Egg Boiz taste-testing your delicacies. 
Now, he was gone, and the emptiness of his departure was palpable inside the hotel. His loyal egg companions now dwindled to just one singular yolk, the rest having sacrificed their shells along with their selfless general. 
Frank, who had survived solely because he had guarded you at the hospital, returned home to an empty nest and no boss.
You weren’t sure whether the little guy could understand how double death worked, but the way he stared longingly at Sir. Pentious’ portrait in the lobby that he knew his old family was gone for good.
Charlie had done her best to integrate him into the staff, him a room service attendant. He stayed your faithful helper in that way, summoned to your door by the newly installed service button whenever you needed.
“Sorry for bothering you, Frank,” you had smiled down at him, poking your head out from the inside of your room, your daughter latched onto your nipple, “But I’m out of toilet paper and I'm kind of busy right now. Could you go grab me some, please?” 
“Sure thing!” He replied chipperly, lifting his hat courteously from the top of his shell before he scampered down the hall and out of view. 
He’d return with your items of request, as he did for all the rest of the residents. It kept him busy, allowing his one-track mind to stay away from thinking hard thoughts about what was lost for too long.
Those hard thoughts plagued you as well, as you dealt with the grief of losing a friend and the mood swings that began to take over you. The hormonal changes that came post-birth was also something you prepared for, the ‘baby blues’ as most would call it.
It had started as mood swings, the typical sudden bursts of emotions that accompanied your pregnancy, and the ones that liked to show their face around your period. Suddenly, you’d find yourself shooting a glare at a particularly noisy conversation outside of your door, or find your eyes welling up with tears at the slightest inconvenience.
A mix of sleep deprivation and postpartum hormones was not a good one, and you were determined to keep this weakness away from your friends. 
What if they thought you weren’t doing a good job as a mother? All that time, energy, and resources that were used to help you and your baby. They’d think it was all a waste, caring so much only for you to end up a disappointment. 
Was that… how your ex had felt when he chose a whore over his lover and child?
Those thoughts began to plague you, and your anxiety heightened with every passing day. The idea that their judgments on your parenting would be harsh had you withdrawing for longer periods inside your room, and farther away from your friends.
Unfortunately, you weren’t able to keep your feelings completely hidden from them, and you realized quickly how erratic your emotions actually were.
One day, Vaggie had swung by to inform you that they had ordered some pizza, and you were welcome to have some too. You were busy breastfeeding your baby at the time, and had to wait until she was sound asleep to sneak out of your room and into the kitchen. 
When you finally arrived, your stomach growled with giddy anticipation as you passed by the others who had mostly finished their plates, your lateness obvious. The lobby was filled with chatter, all the residents gathered for a nice meal and to catch up on anything new that had transpired during the week.
When you reached the partially open pizza box inside the empty kitchen, that delicious scent wafted to your nose and you licked your lips hungrily. Gripping the lid, you lifted it quickly, your mind already picturing whatever goodness lay inside. 
Was it the classic pepperoni that couldn’t go wrong? Maybe it was from that new pizzeria down the block with their best-selling macaroni and cheese… 
Your train of thought derailed, your gaze narrowing at the contents inside the box. 
A singular slice of pizza was all that remained inside, your most hated topping sprinkled atop the now-cooled cheese. 
Your lip curled at the sight, irritation flickering across your face at the lonely slice. You heard laughter from the conversation behind you, and that only had your eye twitching.
You had lived with these guys during the most intense months of your cravings, and they were aware of what kind of pizza you devoured in an instant and which ones had you gagging. And, only one slice? Had they forgotten about you, even though you had told Vaggie you’d come down after feeding the baby? 
You were itching to commit some sort of violence, which had you steeling your arms from lifting the box and chucking it against the wall. 
Those intrusive thoughts had you rubbing your temple with a frustrated sigh, before lifting a hand to begin plucking the disgusting toppings from the slice. 
As you placed the last of it onto the cardboard, you grabbed the pizza and threw it into the microwave nearby. Your foot tapped impatiently against the marble tile as the slice spun slowly inside the appliance, your thoughts spinning along with it.
By the time you had made it out of the kitchen with steaming food, your tolerance for social interaction was drained, and it seemed a better idea to just eat in your room. 
Passing by a few familiar faces, you only greeted them with a tight smile, walking fast enough so that they’d assume you were busy and it would be less likely for them to invite you to chat. 
Right as you were about to turn the corner into the hall, plate in hand, a figure rounded the corner and smacked into you head-on. Your chests collided, and you felt the plate slip from your grip, you snapped your head up to see the familiar apple-cheeked woman meet your gaze.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Charlie gasped, right as the pizza slid off your plate and began to free-fall down to the carpet.
Your eyes widened, and Charlie tensed as the pizza splat face-down, the tomato sauce beginning to ooze from the sides like a bloody scene and your hand began to tremble.
At first, those intrusive thoughts were prodding you to snap at her, but you held your tongue. That anger quickly morphed into gloom, and your eyes cast down longingly to the overturned slice.
Your lip quivered, and your chest heaved as you took a shaky breath to keep those tears from falling. Charlie’s brows furrowed and she slowly matched your expression as guilt squeezed her stomach. The banter around you quieted, but your gaze was firmly on the woman in front of you. 
Fuck, that was the one thing you were looking forward to today. You couldn’t lose your composure in front of the princess, however, that would heighten her concern, and she already had enough on her plate with the new clients.
“Here, let me get Niffty to clean this up and I can get you some more piz—”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” You interrupted her, a quiet growl laced in your wavering words as you chuckled humorously, “There isn’t anything left, this was all you guys cared enough to save for me.” 
Charlie’s eyes widened at your tone, before she opened her mouth to speak again just as Niffty walked forward to clean the mess. Looking down, you took notice of the large glob of sauce that had landed on your top, and you clenched your fists in frustration.
“If you excuse me, I have to get changed now,” you huffed, spinning on your heels to face the hallway, not giving the princess any time to press further as you briskly walked away.
That hot, salty liquid began to spill down your cheeks right as you entered into the long corridor, and you desperately tried to wipe them away. Your face was rubbed dry in a desperate bid to silence the tears.
What was wrong with you? It was one slice of pizza, yet your heart ached like your lottery ticket was one number away from winning. Charlie’s expression had proved your mask was beginning to crack, with the mix of concern and surprise toward your change in demeanor. 
Motherhood isn't easy, that had been clear since day one, but you had hoped your emotions would have stabilized by now. It seems that sleep exhaustion and maternal hormones just don’t mix very well, huh?
That incident had been so embarrassing, that you kept to yourself the rest of the week, only venturing out when necessary, which had you spending most of your time with your daughter. 
Your baby couldn’t speak yet, and wouldn’t for quite a while, which meant you had to speak for her. Usually, you attached words to the silly little faces she would make at any action you or another demon did around her. 
The one time you switched her bottle from breast milk to formula, she didn’t seem too happy about it with how big of a stink eye she sent you chugging down her dinner. Peaches was only a month and a half, but her expressiveness was that of a moody, hormonal teenager.
You spent many hours cooped up with her, sometimes, you needed to have a little fun and play puppeteer one evening as the two of you lounged on your bed.
You squished your daughter's cheeks, making tiny little duck lips as you pitched your voice higher, “Yes, Mama, I promise to sleep through the whoooole night this time!”
“Wonderful,” you beamed, using your other hand to pat her approvingly on the stomach, “And you’ll drink your whole bottle without fuss?”
“Yes, Mama! And, I wi—”
“What are you doing?” An amused, honeyed voice came from across your room.
You froze, turning towards the open doorway, your fingers still pinched around the baby's lips as your eyes widened at the familiar face.
There, standing leisurely against his cane, was the casually dressed ‘Big Boss of Hell’. Lucifer’s blonde hair was slicked back, a few curls framing his statuesque features. Those warm, golden eyes and skin that practically shimmered against the waning daylight from your window.  
He tilted his head with a soft, playful smile, as he drank in your figure. The red evening light basked the bed with a warm glow that lit your eyes up like diamonds, enhancing your maternal elegance as you bonded with your daughter. 
Your love for her was obvious, and that always had Lucifer’s heart fluttering, seeing something so pure exist in such a grim world.
Slowly, you slid off the bed, your smile widening every step closer you took towards the king as you crossed the room. Somehow, even in your melancholic state, his presence always seemed to have you energized and bouncy.
“Your Majesty,” you batted your lashes, coming to a stop at the doorway before leaning casually against it. 
“M’lady,” his grin widened into a wide, teeth-glinting smile as he lifted his hand to present a caramel-coated apple nestled snugly atop a thin, wooden stick. Your stomach growled on cue, and the scent that wafted to your nose had your mouth watering.
“Looks like that glow hasn’t left you yet, if I do say,” he replied, his eyes flicking across your figure before meeting your gaze again.
You only shook your head with a breath of laughter, reaching forward and plucking the delicacy from his grip and turning it in your fingers.
“Charlie says she hasn’t seen you for a few days, you really should go and get some fresh air once in a while,” Lucifer continued as you widened the doorway for him to enter, shooting you a stern glance as spoke. 
Is he talking right now? You quirked a brow as he slid past, lifting the offering to your lips and taking a large, hungry bite out of the treat. 
Lucifer’s eyes were on one being in particular, swaddled snuggly across the room on your bed. His gaze lingered on your daughter for a few moments, before he turned to face you again. 
“How is everything going?”
“Good,” you lied. 
“That’s great to hear,” his warm smile widened, and his eyes flicked back over to your daughter, before snapping back to you. 
Lucifer’s cane twisted between his fingers nervously as he opened his mouth to speak, before disregarding his thoughts and clamping his mouth shut with a small huff.
You only titled your head at that, your lips curving into a more genuine smile as you watched him. 
Children were such a soft spot for Lucifer, you could tell the way his demeanor changed instantly when he was in the presence of a baby. His voice turned to velvet whenever his gentle tone gained from experience in soothing their little ears.
You couldn’t imagine how beautiful lullabies sounded with those vocals of his, the very thought making you melt like butter. Although, you haven't gotten the chance to hear them yet. 
His parental instincts seemed to have resurfaced with the birth of your daughter, and that natural affinity for caring for the innocent and helpless buried along with his angelic began to emerge with each passing visit.
He kept his love at a distance, at first. Almost as if he was afraid of getting attached to such a tiny being, like the emotions that came along with it were a deadly force that could take him out far quicker than angelic steel.
Was it because the baby wasn’t his? Did he think you didn’t want him around your child? Maybe, one day he assumed you’d take the baby and leave, and those growing would only break his heart along with your departure. 
You just needed to prove him wrong. 
“Come on,” you finally nudged him with a laugh, setting the apple on a table nearby, before beckoning him to follow you towards the bed. 
It seemed as if Lucifer had been waiting for your approval, as his demeanor lightened at your words and he slowly followed you. His steps were light and quiet as you neared the side of the bed, stopping just as he settled beside you. 
“Peaches! You’re looking quite radiant this evening,” Lucifer greeted with a flourish, as he leaned over the side of your bed, and your daughter’s eyes widened at the familiar face.
Your eyes flicked up to the fallen angel at his words. Peaches, the nickname he had come up with. Shockingly, a name that didn’t derive from apples, ducks, or the circus.
“Well, aren't you just a peach, so quiet and easy for your mama!'' Lucifer had cooed to the little one her first days in Hell, she lay in your arms as he softly brushed a thumb across her chin, “So adwowable wit those chubby wittle cheeks.�� 
Your baby had only frowned at the strange man’s touch with a half-lidded gaze, but soon she’d learn to get used to Lucifer’s presence, as he never disappeared for too long without visiting his three favorite girls. 
You had a real name for your daughter that was chosen after her birth, but that could be reserved for when you’d have to pull out the full name card during arguments in her teenage years. Peaches had been a simple phrase that seemed to stick, and even if you weren’t fond of the cute addressal, you wouldn’t dare ruin his first attachment to your daughter.
Peaches had only stared up at the porcelain figure invading her space with a curious gaze, no doubt wondering who this silly was, and why he always left her gifts to fawn over. 
Like the first day you came home from the hospital, he presented you with a beautiful red, silken bassinet, with intricate gold lines woven into the detailed design, enhancing the elegance of the crib. Its plushness looked very comfortable for your daughter, and you adored that Lucifer got you something in the first place.
Another time, he brought you a golden mobile that depicted ducks flying rhythmically in circles, ones that threw vibrant, warm lights across the walls late at night, soothing the girl’s late wakings before they woke you at times. 
That seemed to be Lucifer’s love language towards your daughter, always presenting her with toys and other little gizmos he cooked up inside of his workshop. Finally, the fallen angel had found purpose for the dusty space, instead of constantly tweaking the same old, yellow rubber ducky day after day.
“For you, a fan-favorite from the vault,” Lucifer hummed as he snapped his fingers, and a stuffed goat with devilish horns and bat wings materialized in his hands.
Right as he pulled the plush from behind his back, Peaches became enamored with it, kicking her legs in excitement as the stuffed animal was held high for her to get a full view. Her motor control was still poor, and she couldn’t grasp the amusing creature, but its colorful fur and dragon-like features were something to gawk at in the little one’s eyes.
“Look, she’s smiling!” You beamed beside the fallen angel, heart melting as you watched the little girl’s mouth open with a squeal at the offering, “I think that’s her biggest one yet!”
“It seems I’m just a natural at this kind of thing, huh?” Lucifer winked playfully your way, before he levitated the toy just above your daughter’s head, whose attention was solely on the little goat plush, “I think she’s even starting to like me, too.”
‘You’re such a good daddy, please let me make you one again.’
“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” you replied instead with a simple nod, before turning on your heels to hide your goofy smile and retrieve the caramel apple once more.
You plucked the apple from the table, before biting another large chunk from its side. The flavors swirled in your mouth, and that fog in your mind lessened a little more with each bite.
You watched from a short distance, as Lucifer’s index finger pointed towards the air above your daughter’s head. With a flick of his wrist, a trail of golden sparks shot from his fingertip and upward above their heads, before exploding into a flurry of sparkles that sent golden shadows across the room.
Peaches was digging the light show, her eyes fixated on the floating spectacle before they flickered out of existence. 
“Anything else going on?” The king finally spoke, turning his head slightly to catch a glimpse of you. 
“Not really, just taking it one day at a time,” you responded absentmindedly, lifting the coated apple to your lips to take another bite. 
“Are you free tomorrow?” He blurted, smile cracking wider as straightened himself against his cane. 
You froze, brain short-circuiting as those words processed in your head. You, free? As in, available to partake in some sort of activity with Lucifer?
“Yes, technically…” you trailed off, gaze flicking to your daughter, giddy on her bed as she watched the stuffed goat, “But I can’t just leave the baby alone all evening, she needs me.”
“She doesn’t need you, she’s fine with someone else for a few hours,” he waved off your excuse, before throwing another trail of sparklings into the air, and they exploded in a flurry of golden glimmers above the baby’s head, “I’m sure Charlie would love to spoil the kid for a few hours anyway, don’t you trust her?” 
“Yes…” 
“I was thinking,” Lucifer continued, beginning to take a few slow, deliberate steps towards you, “Nothing too crazy, just a nice, quiet evening with good food. Maybe throw some of my good wine into the mix, what do you say?”
He sent you a sultry, half-lidded gaze as he sidled closer to you, the caramel apple in your grip lowering from your lips as Lucifer enraptured your full attention, heat blooming across your cheeks at his expression. 
“If that is what His Majesty wishes, then I cannot refuse such an offer,” you struggled to keep your voice from wavering, the heat in your cheeks creeping farther down your body.
“But do you want it?” He pressed, only a foot away from you now, his lips upturned in a smirk at your flustered expression. 
Apparently, those horny hormones had also stuck around after your pregnancy. Having such a gorgeous, ethereal figure so close to you made your heart skip a beat as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. 
“I… think that is a very lovely offer, and I would enjoy being able to spend time in just your company,” you finally replied carefully, a smile blooming across your lips.
“Perfect!” Lucifer clapped his hands together, his eyes glinting with glee as he took a step away from you, back toward the bed.
“Goodbye, sweetheart,” The king cooed softly to your daughter, as he plucked the stuffed goat from the air, “Take good care of this little guy, he’s a special one.”
Lowering the plush, Lucifer placed it gently against your baby’s chest, and her chubby little hands came up to wrap firmly around the toy. Ungracefully, the goat was lifted to Peaches’ lips before she opened her mouth to begin suckling on its ear.
“I bet that tastes delicious,” Lucifer laughed, and you smiled fondly at the duo with a tilt of your head.
The fallen angel took a step back from the bed after a moment, before he lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. That familiar white, brim hat materialized from thin air into his grasp, and he turned to you with a smile.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I'm a very busy man and have other matters to attend to,” Lucifer sighed dramatically, brushing past you towards the doorway. 
“I have no doubt,” you shook your head with a laugh, following him towards the end of your room.
Lucifer reached the open doorway, before turning to face you again. He met your gaze for a few moments, before he leaned forward in a bow.
“I’ll see you tomorrow evening, m’lady,” he hummed with delight, adjusting his hat against those beautiful golden curls as you smiled warmly.
“Is there a dress code for our little outing?” you responded with a mischievous grin.
The king only sent you a playful wink, before he stepped out of view and the soft thuds of heeled boots against carpet faded as he disappeared down the hall.
That interaction with Lucifer stewed in your mind for the entire night, as well as into the early morning. Your thoughts drifted to the previous conversation as you snuck down the hall and into the lobby to grab breakfast from the kitchen.
The others were fairly busy, so you were easily able to travel unseen. Angel Dust was working overtime at the studio for a new porn flick, and Charlie was using the extermination to push her hotel further into the spotlight and attract new clients. Vaggie always went along with her, and Alastor was probably up in his fancy new radio tower, doing whatever it was he did up there. 
It was only Husk who remained, always behind the bar, shining the bottles and whistling a strange blues tune. He had begun to rope in his drinking as well, choosing to pick up a bottle much later in the day than usual. It was the early morning hour, when you passed by the bar with breakfast in your hands, and the sober bartender turned to you.
“How’s the kid doing?”
“She’s fine, growing very fast too, gaining more control over her movement every day.”
“That's nice,” Husk’s lips curved a smidge, as he placed the glassware neatly underneath the counter, “Haven’t seen you in a while, glad to know ya ain’t dead or nothin’.”
“Yes…” You said slowly, mind racing for a good excuse, “She has just been fussy lately, so I’ve been tending to her.”
“You should bring her out one of these days,” He lifted his eyes from the glass in his paws, meeting yours with an unreadable expression, “I’m sure the others would be happy to see her.”
You couldn’t tell whether Husk was using the term ‘others’ as an inclusion of him as well, you knew the furry demon had a heart somewhere beneath those layers of fur and grumpiness.
You nodded your head at his words, taking a bite of your breakfast, thoughts drifting as you chewed. You’d have to ask Charlie about babysitting anyway, and you couldn’t avoid her forever.
Maybe, knowing that you were going out with her dad, she’d be thrilled to shoulder the responsibilities of a newborn for a single night, or, she could hate it… which was something you desperately tried not to think too hard about, for your sanity.
Needless to say, Husk was right, your daughter really brought the best out of your friends, as they melted in her vicinity. None of the residents at the hotel had any problem looking after the adorable little demon.
Charlie had stood quietly in the lobby, humming a tune as she rocked the baby softly in her arms. Vaggie stood beside her, tilting her head as Peaches’ eyelids began to droop at the gentle motions.
“They’re as cute as the ones in Heaven, maybe cuter,” The fallen angel spoke with a smile, her hand lifting towards the little girl’s head, before tiny fingers wrapped around a single digit and clamped tight.
“And strong too, wow,” She laughed, trying to gently dislodge her finger from the steel grip.
In the hallway behind them, you turned the corner into the lobby, anxiously fiddling with your appearance as you neared the trio. Dressed in a wine-red outfit, you stumbled slightly in your heels as you navigated over the plush carpet. 
Finally, you were actually able to fit into fashionable attire. Your stomach was no longer inflated with an eight-pound baby, and the aching of your once swollen feet no longer bothered you to continue venturing the world in socks and flip-flops.
“You look really nice in that outfit!” Charlie beamed as she turned at the sounds of footsteps, and Vaggie nodded beside her. Your daughter’s eyes widened at the exclamation, before moving to your figure, tracking your figure as you joined them near the bar. 
Angel Dust was lounging on a bar stool, swishing alcohol absentmindedly inside a martini glass as he scrolled on his phone. He glanced up at the sound of Charlie’s voice, before catching a glimpse of your outfit with a knowing smirk.
“Someone is dressin’ to impress,” he playfully nudged Husk’s shoulder over the bar counter, who turned his head from the bottles he was organizing to sneak a peek. 
Everyone knew who you were trying to impress, and when you came back, they would no doubt prod you for any juicy details. 
You stopped in front of Charlie, smiling as you adjusted your outfit again. You had spent the past few hours getting ready, which also included multiple outfit changes because you were never satisfied with your appearance. You needed to look good, really good if you were going on a date with the king.
Why would Lucifer want anything to do with you? You had nothing to offer, just tired eyes and a baby on your hip. There had to be better options, surely. Just because the man never went anywhere other than his manor and the hotel, didn’t mean there wasn’t a line of demons wanting to fill the place of Charlie’s mother.
Lilith. You tried desperately not to think of her, for your own self-esteem. You had seen pictures of her, in old magazines and glimpses of family portraits in Charlie’s room. Lucifer spoke of her when talking about his daughter’s childhood or humorous memories, but he seemed to keep the reminiscing of her specifically curt around you. 
You struggled to understand why, did he think you’d react poorly to the mention of his ex-wife? Except, It wasn’t your place to act that way, though. She had been married to the king for thousands of years and was the mother of his child. She was the Queen of Hell for crying out loud! Not to mention, drop-dead gorgeous, had a fantastic voice, and cared deeply for her people’s wellbeing. 
In comparison, you were a sad sack of potatoes. At least, in your opinion. 
Self-conscious thoughts like these had slowly begun to fester during your early pregnancy, and peaked when your stomach resembled a watermelon, and, for some reason, it had decided to make a nest in your brain postpartum. Laying more seeds of anxiety and dejection deeper within your mind.
But, when Lucifer was around, it was like you could finally breathe again. His energy was warm and inviting, like taking a sip of the finest liquor and that buzz in your brain thirsting for more. It felt like snuggling your face into soft sheep's wool, nothing but comfort and relief from the harshness of the realm. 
Even if the fallen angel was no longer welcomed inside Heaven’s gates, he still retained that ethereal grace that made you feel like you were committing the largest sin just by staring too hard at those soft lips of his.
The king cared about you, in a way nobody did. He was the only demon in your group who had any experience with raising a child, and he was your support when it came to understanding the same stages of parenthood you were currently going through. In a much lesser light, of course, he had never actually birthed a child and suffered the effects of such a–literal–mind altering experience.
Tonight, you’d be able to have Lucifer all to yourself, and you were determined to make the most of it. 
You had held back from making any advances towards him for so long due to that golden band on his finger that glinted painfully in your eyes. A reminder of his attachment to his ex-wife, and the fragility of your close bond. 
What if Lilith were to come back? Would he choose her, and distance himself from you? What of you then, being dragged by the heartstrings for so long just to have them snapped in your face at his rejection?
That thought had terrified you, so you kept your feelings hidden, and let Lucifer set the pace on how far things would go. You were determined to start changing that, starting tonight.
As you came to a halt in front of Charlie and Vaggie, your daughter cooed softly, and you reached out a hand to run gentle fingers across her cheek lovingly.
“Okay, I think I’ve got everything taken care of. Bottles in the fridge you just need to warm up, first aid kit in my room, and I’ll have my phone on ring in case there’s an emergency,” you nervously triple-recounted everything in your mind.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” Charlie sent you a confident nod of her head, her fingers tightening around your baby as her smile grew.
It is then you come to realize how good of a big sister the princess could make if she were to have a younger sibling. Your heart swelled at that, as you imagined your daughter at least finding companionship in the young woman. Charlie looked like she could really pull off a stellar children’s tea party.
“I know you do, you’re always so responsible,” you replied warmly, and the princess's eyes widened for a moment, before her lips upturned into a grateful smile as you lowered your hand from your daughter’s face.
“So, where are you going?” Vaggie inquired.
“I don’t know, he just told me to wait outside my balcony door. Which means I should probably head there now, if everything is fine out here.”
“We’re good, toots!” Angel Dust called from behind Charlie, throwing his head back before downing the rest of the liquor in his glass, “Go have some fun!” 
You nodded, before wishing farewell to your daughter and the rest of the demons in the lobby before turning on your heel and heading back towards your room. 
“I hope those two have fun,” Vaggie said as you disappeared around the corner. 
“I have to use the bathroom, will you take Peaches for me?” Charlie turned towards her girlfriend, only for Angel Dust to shoot up from his seat with a large grin. 
“I would like to hold the baby!” He strolled up to the duo, and Charlie glanced over to Vaggie, before shrugging and carefully holding the little girl towards the demon. 
“C’mere, cutie!” Angel Dust beamed, arms outstretched to take the child as she kicked her feet in little baby glee. 
“You love your uncle, Angel, dontcha’?” He cooed, lifting the baby with secure hands underneath her armpits, before he leaned in and rubbed noses.
Peaches sneezed, and Angel Dust positioned her to sit in his lap at the bar counter. Husk leaned across to get a better look, before taking a claw and reaching it towards the baby.
Gently, he squished her chubby arm, trailing down towards her hand. Husk didn’t have time to retract his claw, before a tiny hand wrapped around the cat’s finger and refused to let go.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” He grumbled as he allowed your daughter to stay latched onto his digit.
You had just made it inside your room, adjusting your appearance one final time as you reached the balcony doors. Grasping the handle, you pull it open to slip outside, the lights from the city illuminating the balcony’s white tiled floor.
You turned your head to search for the fallen angel, but he was nowhere in sight. Instead, you were left to twiddle your thumbs, eyes casting towards the demons strolling the streets down the hill in the neighborhood below.
Lucifer didn’t forget about the date… did he? He was getting much better at being on time, but you still could not help to worry. 
“Hey.”
You jumped with a gasp, spinning to face the familiar voice. You had to grip the chair beside you to keep from stumbling in heels, your gaze lifting to meet those familiar, yellow eyes.
Lucifer was perched across from you on the balcony’s thin railing, one pair of his large wings stretched wide, throwing shadows across the tiles beneath your feet. The other two he kept folded at his sides, white against the crimson underbelly of his open wings.
They practically shimmered in the waning light, their shape and color unique to only one kind of being, an angel. Husk’s wings could not compare to the exotic beauty before you, and you struggled to keep eye contact with its owner as you examined the rare sight.
“Lucifer!” You scolded playfully, your eyes tracing across every feather that rustled slightly against the gentle breeze, “You scared me! What are you doing up there?”
“I apologize for the fright,” Lucifer chuckled, rising to his full height as he balanced across like a tightrope, closing the distance between the two of you, “I just thought I’d give you a peek of what tonight has to offer.”
His wings beat softly for balance, before they folded in slightly and the fallen angel lowered himself back to sit on his feet, smiling mischievously as he lowered a hand in a gesture for you to take.
“First, you should take off those heels. They look really nice, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to climb up here with them on.”
You furrowed your brows, suspicion in your gaze as he extended a hand for you to take. What was your darling king planning? 
“Why exactly am I climbing onto the railing?” You kicked off your heels, and you shivered at the cold flooring against your skin.
Your bare feet planted on the cool tiles for a few moments, before your fingers laced with Lucifer’s, and he effortlessly lifted you to stand beside him.
“Well,” He started, his fingers brushing up your wrist to grip your forearm, before steadying you with a flap of his wings, “I just thought you wanted a better mode of transportation to our little dinner than walking in those stilettos.”
“And what ‘mode’ are we talking about here?” You turned to him with widening eyes, realization slowly dawning on you.
Lucifer’s grin only widened, and you gulped. He really was serious about taking an evening flight, and you mentally prepared yourself as your gaze lowered to the long drop beneath you. You steeled your gaze towards the fallen angel, who scooted even closer.
“Are you ready?” His honeyed voice whispered in your ear, and you felt like exploding at the feeling of his touch across your waist.
Were you? Never did you guess this was what he had planned, and never did you imagine finding yourself being able to travel with your feet off the ground. Adrenaline began to pump through your veins the longer you stood there in thought.
With one final deep breath, you moved your hands to grip tightly against Lucifer’s dress shirt, and nodded your approval. Lucifer’s hold on your waist tightened, and you screwed your eyes shut just as you felt him pull you forward and off the side of the railing.
The wind whipped past your ears, your eyelids still locked shut as you clamped your mouth shut to keep from screaming. The two of you were falling fast, and for a moment you imagined Lucifer unable to lift in time, and you’d become a splatter against the grass.
Instead, you heard his other two pairs of wings unfurl and spread above you, the thrumming of heavy flaps and the feeling of being lifted once more had you cracking an eye open. The wind whistled its natural tune, and your eyelids fluttered open to see your legs dangling beneath you. 
You were very high up, as Lucifer glided across the outskirts of the city, those vibrant, flashing strobe lights that lit up the sky above V Tower passed in a multicolored blur. 
You were flying! Free and uncaged from the stress back on the ground, that weightless feeling was something you’ve never experienced all your years in Hell. The adrenaline rush that hit your body had you laughing in the thrill as the fallen angel dipped and rolled. Cars passed below you, and you waved to the pedestrians walking on the streets underneath your feet, if they even noticed your presence.
“Having fun?” Lucifer called from above, and you cocked your head up to meet his playful gaze.
“More than I ever imagined!” You replied, the wind carrying your voice to the king’s ears.
“Good, now hang on!” He laughed, and his wings tightened against his body, causing the two of you to dive with greater speed towards the buildings below. 
Your grip on Lucifer’s shirt tightened and he pulled you closer as he sped towards an illuminated rooftop below. 
Rather carefully, your feet hit the cold bricks beneath, and Lucifer released his hold around your waist to land beside you. His wings folded against his back, and with a split-second flash of golden light, they completely vanished from his frame. 
Lucifer began to walk toward the center of the rooftop, beckoning for you to join. Taking a few steps forward, your eyes follow his path, before widening at the scene. 
Powerful magic had transformed the space into a romantic, candle-lit dinner right out of the movies. The string of bulbs that cast warm light across the small, cute table before you held an intimate glow, paired with the soft, classical tune that filled the air.
A single, elegantly shaped candle stands at the center, casting a warm, flickering light that dances across your face. The table was adorned with a lace-trimmed cloth fluttering gently in the breeze. On top, there's an assortment of delectable treats—cheeses, fruits, and a selection of fine chocolates.
The backdrop is breathtaking, with the city spread out below, its lights twinkling like stars in the distance. The distant hum of traffic and city life is a soothing contrast to the quiet rooftop ambiance. 
Lucifer only smiles at you, before he pulls a chair slightly from the table and gestures for you to sit. You oblige, settling into the comfortable padded seat as he pushes the chair back in place.
He settled into the seat across from you, and you leaned over the table slightly to take a look at the charcuterie board lined with various cheese, meats, and chips. Your stomach growled, and you plucked a few items from the board and placed them on the white plate sitting before you. 
“Is everything to your liking?” Lucifer hummed, as he popped a slice of prosciutto into his mouth, before meeting your gaze.
“This is really nice,” you smiled, lifting your eyes to trace the string of lights that zig-zagged across your head, “I had expected you to just take me to a fancy restaurant, not something like this.”
“I like the atmosphere of places like these much better. Less noisy and more.. personal,” he replied, lifting another meat slice to his lips  “I just thought you needed time away from that suffocating little room, the both of us, really.”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, this was very kind of you.”
Lucifer smiled softly, and heat spread across your face at his staring. You took another bite of cheese, and the king’s eyes flicked across the table and his brows furrowed.
“I feel like I’m forgetting something…” he started, rubbing his chin deep in thought, before his eyes widened as he perked, “That’s right, the wine! Waiter!”
The king snapped his fingers, and you turned your head in confusion. The rooftop was empty, save for the two of you, who could possibl–
Your thoughts were interrupted when footsteps echoed across the gravel, and a figure dressed in a black and white tuxedo strolled forward toward you. It was… another Lucifer, and your mouth dropped slightly at the familiar face, whose curly mustache bounced as he grinned.
A red bottle of wine materialized in the double’s hands, and with a loud pop the cork lid flew across the rooftop. Fizz spilled from the bottle for a few moments as the waiter stopped beside you. Lowering the bottom, he poured the empty glass in front of you to the brim, before standing straight once more.
“For you, ma chérie,” Lucifer #2 spoke with a perfect French accent, before bowing respectfully to you. 
He sent you a playful wink as he slid over to your Lucifer’s side, and lowered the wine bottle. Lucifer watched his glass fill, before shooing away his double, who backed away from the table and vanished into the shadows.
You lift the wine glass to your lips, taking a long sip of the dark red liquor. Its rich, apple flavor danced on your tongue as warmth bloomed from your stomach. 
“This is amazing! When you were talking about good wine, I didn’t think you meant this good,” you beamed, that buzz already tingling in your brain as you took another sip.
“An old recipe that’s been sitting in my cellar for, well… a few thousand years by now,” Lucifer swirled the wine in his glass, before lifting it to his lips.
As you nibble on the delicate offerings, conversation flows effortlessly between you both. The topics range from silly memories and active interests, punctuated by laughter and shared glances. Lucifer's eyes hold a warmth and depth that matches the glow of the candle, his demeanor a mix of confidence and vulnerability, as he shares with you details of his past.
Time seems to stand still as you savor each other's company, the burdens upon your shoulders vanishing for the moment, as you keep your gaze fixed on the gorgeous face across from you. The night feels infinite, filled with promise and the simple joy of being together.
Unfortunately, time passed much quicker than you hoped, as the sky above was blanketed in darkness at the late hour. Even with the giddy buzz from the wine, exhaustion was still creeping up your spine, and your eyelids were growing heavy.
Lucifer and you both stood at the same time, and when the king joined you at one end of the table, he lifted a hand toward you. It was a gesture for you to take, and when your eyes lowered, you found that the golden band usually around his finger was nowhere in sight.
Your eyes widened, and something stirred inside you. You didn’t waste any time in reaching forward and lacing your fingers with his, his touch soft and warmth bloomed from his fingertips. 
What now? Should you just lean over and kiss him? No, not on the first date, that’s silly! It must have been the buzz of the wine making all those intrusive thoughts seem very logical as you locked eyes with the king for a few moments.
But… was it really the first date? Sure, you had never spent time together so.. intimately before, but he was there for you a lot during your pregnancy. Helped you cook, filled your day with entertainment, and cared for your health, all he did by choice. 
Which is why you felt so weird asking for his help now, he had already done so much, any more and you’d feel utterly… useless.
It seemed like Lucifer wanted to say something, his brows furrowed slightly, lips moving as if he was just moments from speaking. He held his tongue though, sighing softly in the breeze as he turned his head towards the vibrant cityscape.
You followed his gaze, glimpsing the large, digital billboards a few streets away depicting lude models and VoxTek advertisements. 
“Are you sure you’re doing okay, with the baby and everything? You know you can always ask me for help, right?” Lucifer's words caught you off guard, and your head turned to meet his gaze.
Was he catching onto how much you were really struggling? You bit your lip, mind racing. You had tried so hard to seem normal, but the truth was, you felt like a different person after your baby. These emotions that refuse to leave you in peace were only creating a deeper divide between you and everyone else.
Your daughter was beautiful, and you loved her so much. But, she was still a mentally draining, constantly hungry being that begged for your attention 24/7 in the form of harsh, deafening wails. It seemed to be improving, hopefully.
“I think so,” you answered honestly, using your free hand to rub your shoulder soothingly, “It was tough for a while, but I think whatever has been bothering her is going away. Everything should be much smoother from here on out.”
Lucifer looked at you for another moment, as if he was finding it hard to believe you. He didn’t press further, instead giving your hand a supportive squeeze before tugging 
“Ready for round two?” He smiled, his wings unfurling from behind his back as stepped onto the edge of the roof beside him.
You only laughed as he pulled you close to him and the two of you fell off the side of the building. Lucifer’s wings stretched wide as they lifted the two of you towards the sky, your worries in the wind once more.
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You should have knocked on wood when you told Lucifer your daughter’s crying fits were improving, because only a few days later, it was quite the opposite. Peaches has been overcome with another intense round of colic, and her screams bounced across the bedroom as you rocked her gently in your arms.
You had spent the past hour trying to soothe her cries, to no avail. Tears pricked at your eyes as you lifted a binkie towards her mouth, it took a few moments for the little girl to even notice her outburst, before she clamped her mouth around it and began to suckle. 
Her crying turned to whimpers, which soon faded into sniffles as she suckled on the pacifier. You exhaled a sigh of relief, as you slowly lowered her into the red bassinet beside you. Carefully, you positioned her comfortably on the plush bedding, placing a small blanket snugly around her toes to keep her from waking from the cold, before you straightened again. 
What could she possibly be feeling that you were unable to help her through? You weren’t telepathic, and the mystery was only driving you mad. 
You needed fresh air, and your daughter’s wails were finally silenced long enough to be able to disappear for a few minutes and recollect yourself. With caution, you took quiet steps across the room towards the balcony doorways that were concealed behind dark red curtains. Slowly, you reached through the thick fabric to grasp at the handle, before pulling it open just a crack to slip through.
The door closed softly behind you with a barely audible click, and that large breath held in your lungs finally expelled with a heavy sigh, heavy with emotions you so desperately wanted to release from your mind in any way possible. If it meant collapsing to the ground and flooding the balcony with the outpour of unsung frustrations.
You felt so useless. Your daughter was in some kind of misery, and the effects of the constant jump to tears were starting to take a noticeable effect on the infant. She just seemed so tired, practically pleading for you to end whatever misery she could possibly be facing.
You were at your wit's end, and you stared out into the distance, your breath quickening as tears threatened to fall. You just needed some time alone, time to think, and maybe, just maybe, it was time to ask for hel–
“Boo!” A sudden voice near your ear pulled you back into reality, and your heart slammed into your chest.
This time you screamed, your back hitting the railing as you quickly pivoted to find Lucifer, perched atop the railing once more. His wings were gone now, and his smile was wide as he landed on the tile next to you.
“Ha! I got you good, didn’t I?” Lucifer laughed, and you tensed at the volume.
“Shhh!” You hissed, placing a finger to your lips and Lucifer froze.
“Sorry…” He grimaced, glancing at the glass doorway before taking a step closer toward you,  "is she asleep?” 
“Yes, I’ve been trying to get her to settle down all day… she’s been really fussy and it’s been hard,” you sighed, turning your head slightly to hide the emotion building on your face.
“Oh, I had no idea. I just swung by to ask you something, but I see you're a little preoccupied at the moment,” Lucifer chuckled nervously, concern written across his features at your glistening eyes and quivering frown.
You were having trouble containing all the horrible things you were feeling, and your body began to react to the pressure that was threatening to burst inside of you. Inhaling a shaking breath, you crossed your arms and held them close to your chest, your heart beating rapidly. 
“Hey... are you okay?” You felt a hand softly grasp your forearm, and that warm touch was what had you coming undone before the king.
Tears poured down your cheeks, your body shaking with sobs as you slammed a hand over your mouth to hold back the anguished, raw sounds that were begging to be set free. 
You felt utterly exposed, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to be in a really long time. The weight of your emotions crashed over you like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf you in its depth. 
You felt a hand soothingly rub circles into your back, another one on your forearm as the king tried his best to show his support through silent gestures. You choked back another sob, straightening in embarrassment and you regained control of your composure. 
“I’m sorry,” you finally whispered, face twisting as you tried to compose yourself, “I’m trying to be a good mother, but it must be obvious how terrible of one I am.”
“What? Don’t say that!” Lucifer shook his head quickly, lips curving into a nervous smile as he spoke, “You’re doing a great job, nobody thinks otherwise.”
“I’m sure,” you replied bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.
“Times like these can be really hard, I understand how you fee–”
“You don’t, though!” You snapped, lifting a hand to harshly rub your face free of the river running down your cheeks.
“Okay, maybe that's true, but I'm just worried about you, you’ve been—!”
Crying erupted from behind the door, and Lucifer’s mouth clamped shut at the sudden interruption. You jumped at the noise, one hand quickly reaching backward to grasp at the doorknob.
“I’m sorry, she’s crying again and I need to go. If you want to help so badly, come back another time!” the words spilled from your lips in a single breath, and your body moved past the threshold of the doorway as you turned away from the fallen angel.
“Wait! Please let me-!” 
The door locked into place, ceasing the desperate words from the other side. You couldn’t bear to listen any longer, embarrassed by your childish outburst of emotions.
Resting your forehead against the wooden surface, you squeezed your eyes shut, collecting yourself. Your daughter screamed for you across the room, only intensifying the ringing in your ears and pushing the tears to spill faster down your cheeks.
You saw Lucifer’s shadow behind the curtains for a few moments longer, before his silhouette backed away and disappeared over the railing. You rubbed a hand across your face as your daughter screamed, growling at yourself before you stalked towards the crib.
It had only been a few days later, when you heard your daughter's whimpers begin from across the room in her red bassinet sometime in the very early morning hours. You groaned, so comfortable in your nest of pillows and weighted blankets to heed her noisy demands.
You were exhausted, and for once there had been hope that you’d catch a few more hours before having to awake. Peaches wasn’t crying, though, not like her usual wails. You were still in the clutches of sleep, and your consciousness was drifting in and out, and the sounds around you were dampened by the dreamy state.
Then, something else joined the soft whimpers, a faint voice that had you stirring awake with heavy eyelids and sliding the plush covers from your figure. A rich, melodious tone hit your ears, delicate and soothing in the night. 
It sounded… like a violin. It was hauntingly beautiful, a lone siren in the stillness as it lulled your daughter into a deep sleep.
You lifted yourself from the warmth of the sheets, the cold air kissing your bare skin as you slid to the edge of your bed, eyes squinted to see through the darkness towards the corner. In the maroon lighting that escaped through a slit between the curtains of the balcony doors, you could make out some shadowed figure hunched slightly above the crib, your view limited by the small dining table in between you and the stranger.
Quietly, you slid over to the edge of the bed, before planting your feet softly against the plush rug underneath. You took careful steps as you snuck around the table in the center of your room, the music growing louder as you neared the bassinet.
Slowly, you peeked from behind the dining chair, your gaze followed the dappled, red light from the curtains, as they lit the features of a familiar, pearlescent skin with a ruby-like glow.
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Lucifer.
His movements were graceful, like a swan, as he slid the bow across the strings, which glowed a subtle golden light as the heavenly melody left the instrument and filled your body with awe. His gaze fixed on the tiny figure nestled inside the crib, his features concentrated as he continued to play.
You only watched, silent as the lullaby began to damper, and the bow’s movements slowed. Soon, the music ceased, and Lucifer lowered the bow to his lap as he took a seat on a sofa behind him wearing a satisfied expression. Your heart swelled with emotion at the realization of the love behind his actions, and you took another step forward.
“Lucifer?” 
The king jumped at your voice, his fingers tightening around the instrument in his hold as he slowly turned his head with a large, innocent grin.
“Heyyyyy,” Lucifer replied awkwardly, lowering the violin from his shoulder, and setting it down onto the cushion beside him. 
The fallen angel met your gaze once more with an apologetic smile, rubbing his neck uneasily. He was trying to quiet without waking you, which he did the opposite, and it was rather awkward with his intrusion to soothe your daughter. You quietly moved forward, closing the distance between the two of you he chuckled nervously.
“I’m sorry for not announcing my presence, you told me to come back another time, then I just heard her crying and–”
Lucifer’s words caught in his throat, pupils dilating as your fingers came up to slowly brush across his chin, before settling to gently cup his cheek. Your thumb softly grazed across those red cheeks of his, and the tension in the fallen angel’s limbs subsided at your caring touch.
You didn’t know what had come upon you, but the craving to be close to this pure-intentioned being, in a literal and figurative sense, outweighed any thoughts of keeping your feelings at bay anymore. 
“Why are you so good to me?” You whispered, lips beginning to quiver.
Lucifer’s gaze softened, and he melted in your palm. Warmth spread across your fingers, easing the ache in your muscles and deep in your bones, as euphoria overcame you. 
“Because you’re one of the only good things left in my life,” he replied, his voice tight with emotion, as if he was choking back tears, “You, Charlie, and…”
Lucifer trailed off as his eyes lowered to your sleeping daughter, adoration in his gaze. It was pure love, the kind that lasted for an eternity. Your heart swelled at that, and lifting a hand to his other cheek, you cupped his face and smiled warmly.
“Can I kiss you?” 
“Kiss me? Well–ha–I don’t find anything wrong with tha–” Lucifer’s stammered reply was cut off once more as you pulled him forward into your embrace.
You pressed your lips to his, they were warm and soft, and you drank in the sweetness of Lucifer’s aroma, nibbling slightly at his bottom lip. You felt his hands slide to your waist, before grasping gently and pulling you flush against his chest. 
Lucifer leaned backward slowly, his back hitting the support of the sofa and you shifted to fully rest against him, your lips moving to delicately graze across his chin, and you felt his heart quicken at the touch.
Lucifer’s breath hitched slightly as your lips traced along his jawline, you lingered for a moment, feeling the warmth of his breath on your cheek. His hands, still at your waist, tightened ever so slightly. The softness of his lips beckoned, and you closed the remaining distance, meeting in a tender, lingering kiss. 
Your eyelids were heavy, and you slowly broke the kiss and let your head fall into the warmth of the fallen angel's chest, tightening your hold around him and snuggling closer.
“Thank you, for putting her to sleep,” you murmured into Lucifer’s shirt, before feeling claws slide up to your back, caressing the area softly as he hummed a reply.
The two of you embraced silently, lost in the intimacy as you listened to the gentle thrum of his heart, and he continued drawing circles in your back with pleasurable movements. You felt yourself drifting into slumber once more, and your breath slowed as you heeded your body’s exhausted demands.
“You should come stay at my manor,” Lucifer whispered above you, his chin resting gently against the top of your head. 
Your eyelids fluttered open at that, sleep in the back of your mind at his words as you lifted your head to meet his gaze with a raised, disbelieving brow.
“What?”
Lucifer’s lips tightened, and his eyes bounced across the room as he struggled to formulate a response.
“Well, I–I mean, it would be a lot better than staying here, right? I could hire you as my… private chef! That way, you would make your own money to support yourself. You could even have a whole wing of the manor if you wanted, also a big nursery, a private kitchen, and a master bedroom as big as this entire living space!”
Your mouth opened slightly, head spinning. Live in the same house as Lucifer? The royal manor to call home? Probably the most luxurious and non-hellish place to exist in all the seven rings? He sounded completely serious, and you never expected him to make such a bold offer. You’d also be able to support yourself independently by working as Lucifer’s ‘private chef’, save for the free room and board.
“And, of course, you get to permit who comes and goes in that area, so if you wanted to keep everyone, including me, out…you could do that, too.”
Lucifer’s tone sank slightly as those words left his lips, and your brows furrowed in thought. 
“We’ll you give me time to think about it?” You asked slowly.
“Of course!” Lucifer nodded with a satisfied smile, content you were even considering his sudden proposition, “Take all the time you need.”
The two of you fell back into comfortable silence, and stayed locked in an embrace for the rest of the morning, and the crimson light peeking through the curtains began to lighten with the coming dawn. Even as you drifted into sleep, Lucifer’s words lingered in your mind as you slipped from consciousness.
They continued to linger the following evening, as you spilled your heart out to Angel Dust at the bar, your face in your hands as you recalled verbatim. He sipped from his glass of alcohol, lips set in thought as he listened intently. 
Out of everyone in the hotel, you didn’t know why you went to Angel for advice, especially in dealing with romance, but you told him everything nonetheless. About going to live with Lucifer, all the help he’s been to you thus far, and the encounter with him earlier. You even gave him a brief glimpse into the… physical intimacy the two of you also had shared earlier.
“I think ya should do it,” Angel Dust said after a few moments of silence, downing the remaining liquor in his glass, before turning to you. You lifted your head from your hands, you met his gaze with surprise written across your features.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, placing one hand supportively on your shoulder as he continued, “Now I ain’t tryna be mean to ya, but… the hotel was a great place for you before the baby, but with our track record with keeping this place from being attacked by thugs and angels, it mayyy not be so good for the actual baby. Ya get me?”
You took a sip of the water in front of you, nodding slowly as the answer you had been searching for finally settled on your shoulders. You turned to face the spider demon, your lips curving into a small frown and he tilted his head at you.
“I’m really going to miss you guys,” you murmured, rubbing your hands together self-soothing.
“Oh, you’re gonna make me cry, toots! C’mere!,” Angel Dust wrapped all four arms around you, and you returned the embrace with a tight grip. 
And wow, his fuzz was soft. You finally understood the appeal as you held your friend close. Even though in retrospect you had only known the porn star for a short amount of time, the bond you shared was heartwarming and kind. One of the few relationships of Angel’s that didn’t devolve into debauchery and drugs. 
Two hours later, you stood in front of Charlie, hands once again rubbing together in an attempt to soothe the nerves that were making it difficult to hold eye contact with the princess as you filled her in on the decision regarding your future. You planned to move into the manor, and raise the baby in a place that most resembled a home, instead of growing up in a hotel room.
“You’re going to go live with my dad?” She asked slowly, her brows furrowed at your words.
You tensed. Was she apprehensive of the idea?
“Yes, but it’s nothing crazy like I’m getting with your dad or anything… haha.. yeah,” you trailed off, because you were feeling like that may turn out to be untrue sooner than later.
At least, you hoped they did. For now, it was just something along the lines of roommates, even with how silly that sounded in your head.
“Well…” She began, rubbing her chin in thought, and sweat beaded down your forehead as she continued, “I think… it's a wonderful idea! I really enjoyed growing up there, and I’m sure your daughter would too!”
Phew. You exhaled a sigh of relief, the tension leaving your body and your shoulders relaxed. 
With Charlie’s blessing, it was all you needed to give Lucifer the news. He practically jumped for joy as you gave him your answer, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
“I have to baby-proof the whole place beforehand!” he had proclaimed, racing around the makeshift room he had been staying in the past few days as he grabbed his cane. 
“She won’t even be able to crawl for a while longer,” you had laughed with a raised brow.
“I can’t afford anything less than perfect,” Lucifer shook his head, grabbing his coat and hat to get everything ready as soon as possible, “Don’t worry, I’ve got the power of creation, remember? It’ll only be a jiffy.”
The king had literally exploded into a burst of confetti, a sizzle of magic zapping him out of the room and away to the manor. You had blinked, the colored paper mache settling on your shoulders as you turned towards the hallway.
It seemed like the only thing that was left was to start packing, and so away you worked for the next few hours. 
Peaches was swaddled tightly against your chest in a makeshift baby wrap, made from a sheet of fabric that held her close and secure to you while you placed clothes and other items into organized boxes.
Lucifer had been back in a jiffy, appearing at your door right as you finished stuffing everything away into storage. It took a snap of his finger for all of your things to go poof in a cloud of red smoke, and the king had summoned a limo to take the three of you back to the manor, since traveling with magic was risky with an infant. 
You had stood on the front steps of the hotel, trying to contain the tears as you wished farewell to your friends. They watched you leave with furrowed brows, and Charlie had even sniffled once as you and your daughter climbed into the white vehicle. 
“Come by and visit us sometime!” Charlie called as the limo pulled off from the curve and you leaned out the window for a final wave as the hotel disappeared from view.
When you arrived at that glittering, white, and gold royal home, you were met with tall, imposing statues depicting regal figures from centuries past, their stony gazes fixed upon the entrance. As the limo pulled up to the front steps, you noticed the large gardens surrounding the manor, each flower seemingly in perfect bloom despite the season. Fountains sprayed later spouts of water up in the air, before cascading down into glittering pools.
“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” Lucifer had smiled as you took your tour around the premises, examining the once-neatly trimmed bushes that lined the place.
There were no imp servants, or attendees at all really, which explained why the place was beginning to look overgrown by the hellish flora. Large red vines climbed up the manor’s side, a few even weaved across large panes of glass, windows that would have once offered a beautiful sight. 
It appeared the current homeowner was not doing a very good job maintaining the place, and you weren’t going to let this place rot any longer. You’d have to add landscaping to the job description when you felt good enough to do such heavy tasks.
Right as you stepped through those large, golden doors, you were greeted with crystal chandeliers that illuminated a giant corridor. Plush, red carpet met your feet as you a few more steps inside, your eyes tracing over the array of paintings and sculptures lining the walls, along with a few family portraits and other elegant decor. 
It was clear that the interior was designed by the women of the house, the lack of circus decor even prevalent inside the Hazbin Hotel was nowhere in sight. As you followed Lucifer down the hallway, you guessed his withdrawals had given him no strength to change the house to his liking. You stepped through a tall, open doorway into what seemed to be a parlor.
Lucifer paused, turning to you with a warm smile as you joined him with your daughter in your arms inside the living space. You took in the sight of velvet couches circling a large fireplace and a small bar snug against the opposite wall, bottles of liquor lining the racks behind the counter.
"Welcome home," he said, his voice soft as he turned. Peaches cooed softly, seemingly content in the entrancing, shiny surroundings. You followed Lucifer down another large corridor, and he began to give a proper tour of the residency.
You didn’t realize how big this place really was until he showed you the third parlor in the house. This one had more tables, seemingly for dining primarily, but with a similar fireplace nestled in one of the walls near two, red armchairs. 
When Lucifer said you’d have large, private areas, you assumed he was just being generous and giving you some of his dwellings. Now, you knew that wasn’t the case, as there was definitely enough for the both of you between three large bathrooms, five bedrooms, and two dining rooms. 
It took a few days to settle in, as Lucifer helped you unpack your things with easy magic and you found renewed energy in making the nursery perfect for your daughter.
It was clear, from day one, that the two of you were going to be just roommates, when you found yourself stealing kick kisses from him as you organized the nursery, or when his hand found your waist as you rocked Peaches to sleep in your arms some days. Some nights, you found yourself playfully bantering with the fallen angel in front of the fireplace, a glass of wine in your hands as gentle music played in the back. 
Lucifer’s presence and companionship seemed to be what you needed for your emotions to begin to stabilize, along with the fact that you had practically an entire mansion to yourself, instead of sharing the living areas with a large group of demons like back at the hotel. 
The king wasn’t holed up in his home all the time anymore, as he joined his daughter in promoting the hotel and actually making an effort to go to a meeting here and there. He had a purpose now, and you noticed that subtle ethereal radiance that lined his figure began to glow brighter with each passing day.
Lucifer’s social battery was still adjusting to the changes in his daily routines, and some nights he’d return with heavy eyelids and sluggish steps, as if he had returned from a battle against Heaven.
You had been sitting in the front parlor one cozy night, a book in your hand as you waited for the king’s return. He usually wasn’t gone so long, and the dinner you had made had gone cold, so all there was to do was sit around and wait.
Your daughter’s colic seemed to have tapered off by now, as it has already been a few weeks since you arrived at the manor. This was a relief, and you found yourself sleeping much longer, your energy and patience naturally returning. 
That fear of being useless began to dissipate, now that you were able to enjoy time in the kitchen, testing out new receipts for Lucifer as his chef. He paid you very handsomely, even though you rarely did cook as you recovered from postpartum and kept busy with the baby.
You didn’t complain though, it was nice to see a paycheck that could actually cover all your groceries and bills, if you actually paid any of the bills around here... did Lucifer even have bills?
Your thoughts were cut off when the sound of heeled boots thumped across the corridor right outside the room, and the book in your hands lowered to the coffee table in front of you. 
Lucifer kicked off his boots at the door to the parlor, his hooves meeting the carpet as they dragged towards the couch you were lazing on. His blonde was hair disheveled, and some of the gold buttons on his vest were unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of what lay below his collarbone.
He looked exhausted, his eyes tiredly frog-blinking as he fell against the cushions beside you, before exhaling a long, drawn-out sigh. 
“Rough day?” You whispered softly, and he turned his head slightly to face you.
“Just.. a lot,” was Lucifer’s response, his eyelids fluttering close for a few moments as he drank in the warmth from the crackling fire nearby.
You watched the fallen angel for a few more moments, his breath rising and falling slowly as he relaxed. His skin practically glowed against the soft colors thrown across the room from the dancing flames. A thought crossed your mind, and hesitantly, you reached a hand to Lucifer’s shoulder.
You felt him tense slightly from your touch, before relaxing slowly as you gripped his shoulder and forearm and began tugging him to lay down against you. He turned his head, raising a brow as he began to lean against you.
“Come here,” you smiled warmly, as you pulled him to fall over against you.
Lucifer’s head softly landed on your lap, his face upturned towards the ceiling as you smiled down at him. He watched the orange light reflect against your skin, enhancing your already perfect features. 
You lifted a hand towards his face, before you began to gently brush your fingers through his hair. Your nails grazed against the king’s scalp and a satisfied sigh left his lips. A hum reached his ears, as you quietly filled the room, with the soft tune. 
Something stirred inside the king, and emotions began bubbling up into his throat, and he could barely contain them as his lips parted.
“Can I tell you something?” Lucifer whispered after a moment.
“Of course,” you nodded, tilting your head down to him.
“I think… that I’m in love with you.”
Those words had your hands stilling against his scalp, and your breath hitched.
Lucifer in love with you? 
Oh, the joy you felt, at finally hearing those words you only had dreamed of for so long. Your grin spreading ear to ear as heat crept across your cheeks.
“Oh, you silly man,” you laughed softly down to the nervous face in your lap, before you gripped Lucifer by the collar and pulled him up from your lap.
You leaned down and pressed your lips softly to his, and the king rose the rest of the way on his own. He pulled you against him, as his back hit the cushions and you pivoted to straddle him as the kiss deepened. 
Lucifer’s arms were snaked around your waist, and your hands cupped both sides of his face as the two of you were lost in this intimate, quiet moment of affection finally revealed.
Time flew by fast after that, once your daily routines began to settle into place. Lucifer began to step in more in raising the baby, and sometimes you’d find your daughter in his arms, and a sweet, soothing tune coming from his lips.
You’d stand there, leaning against the nursery doorway as you watched with a warm smile. Peaches was beginning to like–no, love him. You could tell when she started to let him dress her up without her usual stink eye. She was now able to sit up and speak in her own, unique form of baby talk.
“Stop moving,” You had heard Lucifer laugh one day from inside the large bedroom, “You’re making this harder than it needs to be!”
A string of incomprehensible sounds followed, high-pitched babbling from the tiny figure in response.
“Hey, don’t give me attitude, missy!” You heard playful chastising from the king, and you turned into the doorway to see his back towards you, as he kneeled over your daughter. 
Her tiny legs kicked in protest as he wrangled something onto her, and you took a few steps into the room before announcing your presence.
“Lucifer…?” You started, nearing the bed.
He jumped at your voice, before pivoting to face you with an innocent smile. Your daughter was visible now, some kind of bright yellow fabric around her head and hugging the rest of her body.
“Hey! Don’t mind us, we're just testing something!” Lucifer’s smile widened.
“Testing what?” You asked with a smile.
Lucifer’s smile turned playful as he turned back to your daughter and lifted her towards you, and your eyes widened.
Peaches was dressed in a fuzzy, yellow duck onesie. Its head was designed into a hood that was pulled over her head, the orange beaking sticking out and resting slightly on her forehead. She babbled something incoherent with an open, gummed smile, something probably along the lines of ‘Look! Don’t I look so gosh darn cute?’
“I pulled out some of Charlie’s baby clothes from storage, and funny enough they fit Peaches just fine,” Lucifer continued, placing his cheek against your daughter’s and rubbing it affectionately with puckered lips, “She is so adowable in her wittle onesie, huh?”
“Yes, she is!” You cooed, leaning forward to pinch one of her cheeks with a grin.
The three of you were beginning to turn into a proper family, and it became obvious when Lucifer started making breakfast for the three of you in the early mornings, despite paying you for such tasks.
“You know that's my job, right?” You quirked a brow as Lucifer stood in front of the stone, flipping large, fluffy pancakes in a pan, before placing them upon a steaming pile of deliciousness. 
“You have days off, don’t you?” He hummed in response, turning off the stove and sliding the plate into his hands, “Will you grab the syrup for me, please?”
You opened the cupboards nearby, grabbing the large bottle of syrup as you followed him toward the dining area, your daughter playing with a rattle on the floor near the long table. She was able to crawl now, a speedy little demon that took off as soon as you turned the other way. 
Luckily, Lucifer had baby gates to help with that, and now she was easily confined into any room for fear of escaping. Her tiny stomach growled and she lifted her gaze from the toy as you and Lucifer stepped over the gate. 
Peaches squealed with happiness, and began to crawl towards you, her hands plapping against the tile as she moved. She slowed right next to the last dining chair at the table, before her head lifted to examine it for a moment. 
Your daughter began to lift herself onto two feet as she gripped the dining chair’s leg. She was getting good at standing by herself, but she had never managed to successfully step forward and not flop back onto her butt. 
You set the syrup on the dining table, ignoring her movements as first as you helped set the table. It wasn’t until you turned to place her into the high chair, did you watch your daughter’s foot begin to lift.
Peaches took one step forward, wobbling slightly as she tried to regain balance. Your mouth dropped, and your arm reached out to grip the back of Lucifer’s shirt and tug him beside you.
“What’s going on, why are yo–” Lucifer froze beside you, as your daughter lifted the other foot and took another wobbly step forward.
She had never remained on two feet for this long, and she didn’t look like she was stopping yet. Lucifer quickly lowered onto his knees, and you joined him as he stretched out his arms.
“Peaches, come on!” He called to the little girl, who was only a foot away from the two as she smiled at the fallen angel and took another step closer.
You joined him, cheering for your daughter as she took another step, and another, and then she reached out her little arms towards the two of you. She took the final step, before she lost total balance and fell forward.
The both of you jumped forward and embraced Peaches at once, the three of you in a tight huddle of affection as your daughter giggled against your chest. 
You peppered kisses against her forehead, tears pricking at your eyes as you lifted them to meet Lucifer’s gaze. His eyes were glistening as well, and you leaned forward to press a quick kiss to his lips, your smile large and brilliant. 
It was clear now, that your little family had grown to include another, and you were so thrilled it was Lucifer. Your ex, and the fears that came with his betrayal began to dissipate from your mind, and a tear rolled down your cheek in happiness. 
From that day on, you promised to make sure that your little girl would always have a father in her life, although it seems like you’ve already found the one who would cherish her for the rest of eternity.
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“Psst, Mom!” 
You grumbled incoherently, still in the clutches of sleep as the voice rudely interrupted the nice dream you had been having in the early hours of the morning.
“Moooooommmm, wake up!”
You stirred awake at the voice hissing in your ear, your eyes fluttering open inside the dark master bedroom of the manor. Someone was standing right in front of you, a short figure tapping her foot impatiently as you lifted your head from the pillows.
The room was still covered in blackness, the morning light unable to escape through the blackout curtains blanketing the large bedroom. You could see the outline of a small figure in the shadows at the edge of your bed, illuminated by the open doorway behind her.
“What is it, baby?” You rubbed your tired eyes, turning to face your daughter.
Peaches was much older now, the name long outgrown her as she aged from toddler, to child, to girl. She resembled a nine year old now, that cute baby fat gone from her limbs, and her chubby little cheeks beginning to sharpen into gorgeous features. 
“Can I go with Charlie to the mall? She said she’ll pick me up in an hour if that’s okay.”
Charlie and your daughter had been doing everything together lately, which you guessed was because of the older woman’s joy in having a little sister she could take under her wing. They may not be related by blood, but nobody could tell the difference with the bond those two shared.
Peaches often assisted her at the now-bustling hotel, learning how to best help the inhabitants of Hell through the teachings of her sisterly figure. 
“Sure, tell Charlie I said hi,” you nodded with a smile, and your daughter bounced giddily on her toes.
“Yay! Thank you, mom!” She lowered her face down to leave a quick kiss on your cheek, wrapping her arms around your neck for a tight hug before backing away, “I Love you, see you later!”
You watched her rush out of the room with a slip in her step, the door closing softly behind her. 
“What was all that about?” A voice tiredly mumbled beside you, and warm arms snaked around your waist. 
You laid your head back against the pillow, repositioning your body to face toward the naked figure beside you.
“She just wanted to go out and have some fun with Charlie,” you replied to the tired, pearly face before you, his blonde hair disheveled around him as he blinked the sleep away with a yawn.
“Those two are like glue, nowadays,” your husband, Lucifer, yawned, pulling you flush against his bare chest in one smooth motion.
You snuggled your face into the crook of his neck, placing wet kisses across his skin, earning a pleasurable noise from his throat. 
“Should we get up and make some breakfast?” You asked into his skin.
“Five more minutes,” you heard him mutter, as he rubbed his cheek against yours affectionately.
That gives me five more minutes to think about how lucky I am to have you by my side.
“Okay,” you smiled softly, placing a loving kiss against his forehead before snuggling closer, “Five more minutes.” 
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woah lots of emotions in this one, good thing everything worked out in the end, eh? the art was done by indxlulu over on twt, go check out some of their other work!
what did you think? let me know! <3
tags 🏷️
@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @helluvapoison @th3-st4r-gur1 @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @fictional-character-whore @0willowwisp0 @yourlocalgoldenretrieverboy @wpdarlingpan @halo-balo @chipper-chip @lvstyangel @acrazyartist @midorichoco @xoxohugslove @ivebeenthearchersstuff @indestructeible @otherthoughtsofbu
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jeneveuxrein · 1 day
Text
attention (TWICE Nayeon)
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word count: 6.1K
(she's been on my radar since the killing voice medley, and well, yeah, enjoy!)
-- -- -- 
You’re seething, forcing the amber liquid down, watching the people mingle. You should introduce yourself to some because networking at events like this always gives you the chance to meet the next up and coming. 
But not tonight. 
You don’t even want to be here. You weren’t on the original guest list, but with last minute changes and someone’s wife suddenly going into labor, your boss forced you to attend. 
Maybe the proper term is chaperone. 
All you wanted to do tonight was spend some time with this woman you’ve been casually seeing. Nothing serious, nothing committal, just dinner and drinks that had the potential of ending together in a bed. You had been dragging it out, and you think it’s warranted. She makes it obvious she’s interested.
But with how this evening was looking, you’ll be spending the night with someone else. 
That someone is across the room, draped over some man you’re more than likely going to have to do damage control. She’s an idol after all, and rumors will spread like a wildfire about her being linked to someone who’s nowhere near her caliber. 
She catches you staring, sending a sly smirk as she leans into whatever-his-face is saying. A little too close for the company’s taste and a shit ton too much for your sake.
“Dear fuck,” You mumble, shaking your head before standing. 
You don’t know what compels you to walk through the crowd, nodding politely at those that wave, but there you are, less than a meter away from where she’s seated. 
“Nayeon,” You say coolly. The man quickly separates himself, going as far away from the woman in question. “Time to go. You have an early day tomorrow.”
Nayeon tilts her head, a questioning glint in her eye because she, out of all of the members, knows her schedule. She has nothing for tomorrow, except maybe rest and recovery because this is her fault you’re here. 
Well, maybe you should backtrack. It’s technically your fault because if you hadn’t mentioned to Sana and Momo the plans you originally had, you wouldn’t be at some event against your will. It was an innocent question on how you were going to spend the weekend, the only mistake was that you said too much that they went running to their unnie. 
“Okay,” Nayeon says slowly, standing before bidding farewell to the people at the table. You wait for her, obviously, because that’s what you’re supposed to do. “Shall we?” She asks as she turns to face you. 
You nod, stepping side before bowing politely. You’ll have to send a message to the media team to stop any photos releasing of Nayeon and the man, but that could wait. There were more pressing matters that needed your attention. 
It isn’t until you’re inside your car that she says something that ticks you off, “So no date with Suji-unnie tonight?”
You shake your head, composing yourself because it’s a question she knows the answer to. “Nope, duty calls. Had to be here.”
“How unfortunate,” Nayeon says casually as if she had no part in how your night turned out, slouching in the passenger seat as you shift the car into drive. “Yours or mine? ” She asks, looking out the window. Adding, “Momo’s in Japan.”
“Mine,” You answer simply, turning onto the street. 
-- -- 
You should’ve seen it coming, but you let it happen. 
The company and management would have you barred from working with anyone in the industry if they ever found out. You reasoned that was why by the time things unfolded, it was out of your control. 
How it started was subtle, nothing too out of the ordinary to draw attention to her mostly. She flirted with you, commenting on your outfits about how it looked good on you and you, being you, would return the sentiment. It wasn’t anything explicit, just a polite acknowledgement of her looking great, something she heard daily from the girls and other people on the team. 
She lingered to walk with you whether it was crowded or not, it didn’t matter. She was right by your side, and the times where fans were around, she’d be especially close that you had no other choice to wrap your arm around her, shielding her from people who desperately wanted her attention. You missed the snickers from the girls, rolling their eyes because they knew what she was up to, while you were just doing your job. 
Then she texted you on free days, asking if you wanted to do something. Anything from getting food at hole-in-the-wall restaurants she learned about from Chaeyoung to intimate concerts of artists in the industry. You tried to decline, advising her to go with one of the female managers so it wouldn’t look suspicious to the public eye, but she was adamant about going with you. Some of the girls would join from time to time, but the majority of the time, it was just you two.
Again, you thought nothing of it. You were the closest to her, so no one batted an eye when she put in the group chat when something was planned. 
That was just how your relationship was with her for five years since the group debuted. 
Until one night.
You were working late, going over the travel plans for the girls’ encore tour, tucked away in your office. A short four-city stint in the United States that would be a bit of a hustle for them, but you knew they could do it. 
There were a soft two knocks, scaring you because you thought everyone had already left. You remembered the way you said come in, raspy and tired, when the door opened slightly, the half of Nayeon’s face peeking through the crevice. 
You smiled immediately, sitting straight, nodding as she stepped inside. You took note of her outfit. Something comfortable since they had dance rehearsals for the better part of the day, dark sweats and a heather grey cropped hoodie that showed a sliver of her skin, peeking from underneath. 
You watched Nayeon grow into a beautiful woman. Sexy too, but you slapped yourself every single time you thought of her like that. There had to be some professional line drawn somewhere. Although it seemed that metaphorical line had been blurred, crossed, over the past few months. 
She was more affectionate, playing with your fingers in the car, gently touching your arm wherever you walked. She pressed into your side more, even when there were no people around. She hugged you a bit longer than the others, not like you were counting the seconds. 
You stood to meet her on the couch, asking if she was alright since she was vocal earlier in the day she wanted to go home to sleep. She explained that she had finished practicing with the dance instructor. You admired how hard she worked, which for what it was worth, you thought she did well during rehearsals. 
“And I saw your office light on as I was leaving, thought I’d say goodbye,” Nayeon rested her head on your outstretched arm. It wasn’t out of the norm, something she did quite frequently in front of everyone. 
“You should rest,” You urged, softly squeezing her shoulder as she snuggled into you. “You did great today.”
Nayeon looked up at you, gaze briefly shifting to your lips before meeting your eyes, “Really?” 
You hadn’t realized it before, but as she stared at you, you could see how much she needed the affirmation, the reassurance, the praise, from you. 
You cleared your throat, looking away because it suddenly felt hot in your office. With Nayeon this close, her perfume faint, it had you dizzy. You mumbled a shy yeah. 
You knew the moment her hand touched your thigh, it was over. Everything you worked for, investing time and resources to make sure the girls you managed were successful, would be tossed down the drain because the undeniable tension that had been building over the past however long at this point broke.
The thing was, you didn’t know about it until that moment. 
You weren’t sure who kissed who first, and it didn’t matter. All you knew was she was on top, your arms pulling her closer as your lips met in a heated kiss, swallowing each other’s moans. 
Something clicked inside of you, like this was always supposed to happen. Every message, every call, every playful push, every stolen glance, every single thing led to this. 
“Nayeon,” You tore yourself apart, hyper aware of the small whine leaving her mouth as you tried to get some grip on the situation. “What’re we doing? We can’t do this.” 
Her eyes narrowed, glaring, and you knew that whatever resolve you had would be taken from you by her whether you liked it or not. She was never one to be challenged, always exceeding whatever expectation was placed on her. 
“And why not?” Her voice was steady, but her body was not. She dropped to her knees in between your legs. All the thoughts you pushed deep down inside you came rushing to the surface, dismantling the walls you put up for her to break it so easily. “You don’t think I’m pretty?” Her hands were on the waistband of your slacks, trailing along, stopping when she reached the button. 
You didn’t have the words, no sentence to form as she slowly, oh so slowly, pulled the zipper down. You nearly choked once she placed her hand over your cock, palming with the softest pressure. 
“Your body seems to think so,” She teased, slipping her hand underneath the fabric, wrapping around your cock. 
That very thin thread of control you snapped, leaning forward to pull back onto your lap. “That’s a lot to assume,” You quipped, hands gripping her waist firmly. 
“Really?” She rolled her hips over you, catching the smirk on her face as your eyes closed. “I think that you’ve always wanted me as much as I wanted you, which I—”
Impulsively, you brought your lips to hers, a searing kiss that she met with the same enthusiasm. You murmured a shut up before nipping her bottom lip, sucking lightly that her body shuddered against you. 
You didn’t remember much else from that night. 
That was a lie because that was the night she confessed it all. It didn’t help that she somehow slipped all her clothes off and she sunk your cock inside one smooth motion, testing your control once again because you could’ve exploded the moment you felt her warmth wrapped around you.
You remembered it vividly, clearly, as you watched her move on top of you. It was slow, intentional with every drop of her body, like she was showing you what you had been missing. It was hot, tight, and you couldn’t stop the whimper out of your mouth when she started whispering things—nasty, filthy things that you would have never guessed were in her vocabulary. 
Nayeon bit your ear lobe, murmuring how good you felt, how she got so wet whenever she saw you. The soft moan she let out. The dazed, lust-filled expression with each roll of her hips. You couldn’t stop the noises you made, the groans, the grunts, the fuck every time her pussy tightened. 
There was a brief sense of clarity when your stomach tightened, signaling you were close. You couldn’t exactly cum inside her because one, you stupidly (blindly) forgot to put a condom on, and two, you didn’t keep track of her health records (that wasn’t one of your responsibilities among everything else), so getting an idol pregnant wasn’t exactly on your list. 
She knew you were close the second your hips thrusted up, stealing a breathy moan. You were content lifting her off you to cum anywhere else that wasn’t inside her.
However, Nayeon was not. 
She made it perfectly clear when she wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you against her as she quickened her pace. You tried, maybe not that much, to get her off you before you met your impending end, but it was futile when she kissed your cheek, affectionately, lovingly, hot breath against your skin that she wanted you to claim her in a way no one else ever had. 
Air left your lungs as you came, releasing a lot inside of her, causing her own orgasm that felt like yours went on forever. She muffled her scream, biting into your neck as her body trembled. 
You wanted to believe it was a one-time thing, a mishap, a lapse in judgment because it was still your fucking job on the line. 
It was not a one-time thing. You couldn’t even count it as a two-time thing, or three, or four. It just kept happening. You couldn’t exactly avoid her, you literally worked for her. 
No one would think you favored her because they all knew you did, but they understood why. No one could stop Nayeon from being near you because she would throw a fit. Any crisis she had, you were the main point of contact because she only listened to you. 
Even if you had some kind of control over her, she had the most control over you. 
Then after some time of figuring out how you and Nayeon could keep whatever this under wraps—nothing was ‘figured out’ as you wouldn’t really be talking if you were alone together—a mutual colleague introduced you to Bae Suji.
-- 
You went on one date with Suji, or Suzy, as she sometimes preferred. How any of the girls found out was beyond you, but if you had to wager, it would’ve been Jeongyeon or Sana (Nayeon later did say it was the latter because her friend saw you).
It didn’t matter who found out because managers are allowed to have lives outside of their work, but this particular part of your life wouldn’t be allowed by the woman you spent a good chunk of time with, on- and off-the-clock. 
To say Nayeon was upset would be an understatement. Sure, she was upset, but she was livid. You didn’t see her that night, but she was at your door the next morning. She did what she always did, easily seducing you before demanding an explanation while you were deep inside her. 
It wasn’t healthy by any means, but it’s not like either of you cared. It was toxic at best, but it was debauchery at its absolute worst, using sex as a loaded gun to get whatever you wanted from each other. 
“You know we can’t keep doing this,” You grunted as you thrusted inside her, pausing as her pussy tightened. 
“Yet here you fucking are, still balls deep inside of me,” Nayeon said lowly, tugging you so you towered over her. “You aren’t fucking her so why did you even go out with her?”
You didn’t bother responding, instead you wrapped a firm hand around her neck, squeezing enough to shut her up because at that point, she was pissing you off. 
You would admit that that morning was the first time you let her get the best of you. You typically weren’t aggressive with her. You might’ve been rough less than a handful of times, but never like that.
What you couldn’t predict was how she’d react. She could have done anything. Hit you. Slap you. Push you off. 
She didn’t. 
It spurred her on more than anything. By the way her pussy tightened. By the way it felt wetter. By the way she tried to make a sound, but couldn’t because of the hold around her.
Your hand relaxed, listening to her violently gasp as the air entered her body. You broke for a moment, searching for any sign of discomfort, uneasiness, because at the end of the day—you wouldn’t admit this to her—you loved her. You were in love with her, stupidly falling for her whether you wanted to or not. You believed she felt the same, but those kinds of things weren’t a topic of discussion. 
“Baby,” You whispered, still buried inside of her, but you weren’t moving. “I’m sor—”
Nayeon shook her head, sitting up as you hissed once the cool air hit your cock. She gave you a quick peck before turning onto her stomach, arching her back. Pushing herself up on her hands, she shook her hips side to side, head slightly turned, “Fuck me, daddy.”
A new kink was unlocked that night among a myriad of emotions you weren’t prepared for. One thing you were prepared for was to fuck her like you owned her. 
Maybe you did, but she owned you too. 
-- -- 
You open your front door, stepping aside for Nayeon to walk through. Tossing the keys on the side table, the door shuts as you take off your shoes. She’s right next to you, arms crossed behind her back, leaning against the wall. She’s waiting for the reaction you give whenever she pisses you off. She does what she does to rile you up, if that isn’t obvious. 
You sigh, shaking your head, standing in front of Nayeon. Her eyes look up, but your gentle hand cups her chin, tilting her head back. When you meet her gaze, there’s something off with her. 
You can read her like a book, very familiar with her moods. Though, this time, you see—and feel—the walls up, something unfamiliar to you. 
“What’s wrong?” You ask softly, searching her face for anything to give her away. Her expression remains neutral, shrugging indifferently. “Something’s wrong.” 
Nayeon pulls away, averting her gaze, “Nothing’s wrong.” Pause. “So are we going to fuck or what? Isn’t that why we’re here?” 
“Not with that attitude,” You say sternly, reaching for her arms behind her back. You bring them around, struggling a bit. “What the fuck is your problem?” 
“There is no fucking problem. If you want to talk about thoughts and feelings, I’m going to pass,” She breaks away, and you let her. “I’ll call Jihyo or Jeongyeon to pick me up.” She turns to walk away, but you reach out quickly, hand wrapping onto her forearm to pull her back. 
Nayeon lets out a small oomph against your chest, glaring at you, unbothered by her attitude (you’ve dealt with worse), “Tell me what the fuck is wrong right now.”
“Or what?” Nayeon huffs, hands on your chest in a feeble attempt to get away from you. 
The movement brings your bodies closer, and accidentally, maybe purposely, she grounds her pelvis against you. It’s with the lightest pressure, but it’s enough for your cock to stir, awakening from her heated stare. You notice the way her breath hitches, body shivering as you pull her closer. 
“Brat,” You murmur, dropping your head to capture her lips with your teeth. She moans softly when you start sucking. Her hands move to interlace behind your neck. You didn’t want to use sex to get it out of her, but she’s being defiant. “Do you get off on making me mad?” 
“Not intentionally, of course.” You feel her smile form, the upward curve of her lips as you slide your tongue in. She sighs dreamily into the kiss, dropping her weight to lean against the wall. You fall into her, practically pinning her. “Is someone going to put me in my place?” 
It’s a rhetorical question because there has only been one person to put her in her place. 
You. 
This evening could have played out in two ways. The first, being the doting lover you’re familiar with, praising her softly like a secret only between you and her, taking your time to draw out every moan and sigh against your lips. The second, the one you’re leaning towards, being the indifferent, apathetic lover, uncaring of if she cums, fucking her until she begs for you, pussy deliciously tight to force you to breed her, claim her, because she’s yours. 
“Why not that tool you were all over at the party?” The question catches her off guard, body tensing at the thought that you caught her. She wanted you to catch her though, she has always wanted to be wanted by you. “You knew I was watching across the room,” Pulling away as you tower over her.
“It wasn’t like that,” Nayeon rushes out, the excuse you’ve heard multiple times before. The false panic in her eyes means she knew exactly what she was doing to get a reaction out of you. “We were just talking.” 
“I don’t believe that,” You click your tongue, the image of her with someone else like that sparks a possessive desire. “That wasn’t very good of you, baby.” Void of any affection associated with the pet name. Under the dim light of your hallway, you see her eyes dilate and her breathing picks up. She wants you and fuck do you want her too. “Room. Now.” 
Nayeon nods obediently. You reward her with a soft, chaste kiss. She tries her best to keep your lips together, but you tap her hip twice and she pulls away. “Daddy.” She whines, pouting in hopes it’ll get her more than you’re giving. You thought she’d last longer before using her nickname for you. 
“Don’t be a brat,” Your eyes narrow, challenging her because if she wants to act out even more, you’d just have to punish her. “Go to the room now.” Nayeon’s eyes widen at your tone, nodding once before walking down the hallway. 
You tilt your head side-to-side, stretching the muscles before making a quick stop in the kitchen. You know you’ll both be exhausted whenever you finish, so you might as well at least have water nearby. You’ll find the energy to make her food in the morning, or there’s always takeaway. With two water bottles in hand, you kick your room door open to Nayeon perched on the edge of your bed, topless, only leaving her red lace bottoms, dress tossed haphazardly on the chair. 
“For later, okay?” Momentarily breaking out of character because you still care for her, and her well-being will always be your top priority. She sends you a grateful smile before you place the bottles on the dresser. When you meet her on the bed, she moves to swing her leg over yours, but you shake your head. “Not yet, baby. You weren’t very good back there.” 
“But, but,” Nayeon’s voice trembles, biting her lip. “I didn’t mean it!” 
“Then why did you act out? Do I not give you what you want?” You gently push Nayeon off to her original position. 
“You do!” She says desperately, nodding her head. 
“Then why? Why him?” You taunt, deciding how far you want to go with her tonight. Something’s still wrong, and you need to know what. You want the reason, the confession, because she doesn’t keep secrets from you. You see the wheels turning, unsure if whatever she has to say would matter. It does matter to you. “So what is it?” 
“Because I wanted your attention,” Nayeon confesses before she jumps on you, landing perfectly on your already hard cock. She moans at the contact, grinding slightly before your hands find themselves on her hips, guiding her movement. “I wanted you to remind me who I belong to.” 
“And who’s that?” You say lazily, tongue trailing against her lower lip before dipping inside, swirling that she grounds harder. 
“You,” Voice dropping low, seductively adding, “Daddy.” 
You have to still make her pay her retribution. She’s almost there, telling you the real reason, and you’ll get it out of her. You easily lift her body off yours, smirking at the whine and huff when you pull away as you lay her on your stomach against your lap. “I still have to punish you, baby.” You rest your hand on her back, ghosting over her skin until you reach her low back. 
“But daddy,” Nayeon huffs, raising her hips in a feeble attempt to get your hand where she wants. “It didn’t mean anything,” She repeats, squirming on your lap. 
Your hand goes lower, hovering over her buttcheek, “It meant something to me,” You say pensively. Curious, prodding, “Is that why you wanted me to fill in instead of Seoyeon-unnie? You didn’t want me to go on my date.”
You don’t hear a response. You swiftly bring your hand down to her bottom, a resounding smack echoes through the room. “Well?” 
Silence again, which would result in another slap to the other cheek. She muffled a moan into the bedsheets, refusing to budge. 
Bingo. 
Her pride is her biggest downfall, ego constantly needing to be stroked. She loves the attention and adoration from fans, thriving off the praise, knowing that it’s all for her. She would rather suffer through the pain than have to admit she was jealous. 
The center of attention, the one in the limelight, spotlight shining on her and only her. She craves that from you, to be the center of your world, but ever since Suji came into the picture, she’s scared that there might be someone else, crashing like a meteor on unstable ground she’s never had. 
You continue with the slaps, easing the sting with light rubs. You know she’s soaked, the small dark circle forming on her underwear. You’re not faring any better, cock tenting against the fabric. 
After the seventh hit, Nayeon moans, body shaking wantonly in frustration. “Fuck fuck, please, please.”
“Tell me the truth.” Coercion isn’t the best method, manipulative by any definition, but you had no other choice. 
“Fine, fine.” You relent, hand halting mid-air. “I didn’t want you to go. You’re supposed to be mine,” She cries, breath uneven as she tries to compose herself. 
Your hand drops. Her body flinches when she feels it against her skin, but continues to wait, anticipating your next move. Your chest squeezes at the confession because she’s never been this vulnerable, open, willing to express her feelings for you.
You give in, to her, to this, the urge to suddenly show her who owns you becomes too great. You pull her up, laying her on the bed as you fall in between her legs. 
“Baby,” You murmur, leaning forward to brush your lips against her ear, “You’re being so good. I am yours,” Her body shivers, hips rolling up into nothing as she seeks some kind of friction. “I’m yours,” You repeat like a mantra, a reminder of what you’ve always said. “You deserve a reward, okay?” 
Nayeon shakes her head, eyes shooting open, wild with want and desire. “I can’t wait, daddy.” She reaches for your shirt, ripping the buttons, before stopping at your belt. “Inside me, please. I need to feel you.” 
You do nothing to stop her, hands swiftly moving to unbuckle your belt and slipping your cock out of your briefs. You groan when she wraps around your length, stroking lightly. She aims the tip at her opening, against the lace, uncontrollably moaning and panting. 
“Go ahead,” You goad, eyes fixated on your cock rubbing over her. The wetness seeps on you, mouth watering at the sight. You watch as she moves her underwear to the side, lining up your cock perfectly, the warmth and wetness surrounding you has you seeing stars. 
“I’m so wet, daddy,” Nayeon moans loudly, scooting closer to take more of you in. “All for you—fuck.” 
You couldn’t help yourself. She felt too good, too wet, and the tightness suffocates you the second you snap your hips forward, burying your cock to the hilt inside her. The sudden stretch has her head snapping back, screaming into the air. 
“You’re such a slut, always ready for my cock,” You choke out, hands settling on her hips before drawing backwards. Her body squirms, chasing after the sensation of being filled. “So needy tonight, baby.”
“Please, please,” Nayeon begs, doing everything she can to get all of you back inside her. She wants you, wants you so no one else can have you, desperate for the feeling you give her. She thrusts her hips down, sucking you in unexpectedly, that you nearly collapse on top of her. Her arms wrap around you, nails digging into your skin when your length rubs along her walls. “Fuck me. You own me.”
“Mine?” You’re able to catch a breath, holding on to the control you’re trying to keep. 
“Yours.” 
It snaps, breaking the moment she says the word, possessing you to pull back before sliding back in. You lose yourself inside her, each moan and breathy sigh, as you set a steady pace. It’s a beautiful sensation for Nayeon’s pussy hugging your cock perfectly, warm, wet, tight—just for you. 
Her nails trail down, scratching your back enough that you’ll see the damage later. The pain turns you on, snapping your hips, driving your cock through. You nearly falter when your eyes meet hers. It’s akin to love, a word that has been dangerously sitting on the tip of your tongue these past few months. 
“I—fuck,” You stutter out. You can’t tell her how you feel. You can’t. You shouldn’t. You won’t. 
“I love you.” 
You swear you misheard her. The three words forming the sentence that has you over the moon. She says it again, softly, affectionately, because she means it. 
“You love me?” You cease your movements, cock bottoming out inside of her. The snugness of her pussy warms your cock as you wait. She doesn’t hesitate, saying it again and again before pulling your lips to hers. 
“I love you,” Nayeon mumbles, tongue running along your bottom lip. 
“Fuck,” You pull away, hips drawing back before flipping her body over. She raises her hips, the beautiful arch in her back. You tear the lacy garment off, making a silent promise you’ll buy her another later. You’ll buy her whatever she wants. “I love you,” You whisper before sinking in, missing the way her eyes roll back. 
You couldn’t control what happened next as the words triggered her orgasm. Her pussy pulls you in, suffocating you so you wouldn’t leave—not like you had anywhere to go. You’d lose yourself inside her ten times out of ten. 
“Fuck daddy, I’m cumming,” Nayeon screams, panting as her body shudders, pussy tightening and relaxing rhythmically as you groan. You feel the wetness coat your upper thighs, guttural moaning against her hair. “Come inside me, please. I’m yours, yours, oh shit—”
Your stomach tightens, snapping at the way her ass cheeks ripple against your pelvis, moving uncontrollably as she coaxes your orgasm. Your hands grip her muscles, hips erratically thrusting into her as your release floods her, painting every crevice inside her. 
Nayeon leans her head back, enough for you to kiss her forehead. Her hands find yours, interlacing them sweetly as you both try to catch your breath. 
You’re still hard, and you’re feeling particularly giving. She can handle whatever you throw at you, so you gently remove one of your hands from hers, trailing slowly to the apex of her thighs. Her breathing hitches, “What’re you doing?” 
“Another,” You command as you rub through her folds, finding her clit. 
“Wait—wait shit,” The contact catches her by surprise, her body folding forward as you continue your onslaught. 
“Good girl,” You murmur, watching as her hips move in slow figure eights with your cock still inside. Her pussy constricts, finding every angle to hit her favorite spot. And when she does, she mewls and pants. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”
Nayeon turns her head, locking eyes with you as she moves faster along your length. Your fingers aren’t idle, applying heavy pressure that has her going crazy, unsure with what to do with the pleasure flowing through her body. You mouth cum and flicking like a switch, she gushes all over you, forcing you to leave her warmth. 
“Fuck daddy,” Nayeon screams, voice hoarse as you watch her body convulse, back arching and flexing as she squirts more fluid than you’d ever seen. “I need you, please. Something, anything—oh shit!” Your fingers enter her swiftly, massaging her inner muscles as it just gets wetter, drenching your skin and bedsheets. 
“Tell me who owns this pussy,” You say lowly, eyes fixated on the way her butt muscles ripple with every movement of your fingers. 
“You,” She repeats your name over and over, pussy sucking you as she tightens deliciously around them. “God, fuck, you, sir, only you.” 
You replace your fingers with your cock, aiming at her opening before sinking in once again. Her fingers ball into fists, wrinkling the bed sheets as you nearly go feral on her body. She could take it. She wants you like this, crazy, addicted, in love that no one else could fuck her. She needs to feel how much you want her. She only needs you.
“So easy,” You swing a hand back, slapping each cheek with precision. “All you need is my cock, right?” 
“Yes, yes, only yours daddy,” Nayeon nods, easily agreeing to whatever you say. You could call her every name in the book, and she’d comply. She’s your little fucktoy that gets your cock stuffed inside her whenever you want.
You lose it once Nayeon lets out a high-pitched squeal. The orgasm crashes through your body, hips stuttering forcefully into hers as you fill her again, unabashedly rolling your hips to hear her breath staccato. 
Every nerve on your body buzzes, stimulated by Nayeon’s walls pulsing to milk you for all that you have. It hits overstimulation, sucking the breath from you as you regretfully pull out. She whines at the loss of contact, but you lean forward, sweetly kissing her buttcheek, nipping at the skin that she squirms. 
“Ticklish?” You tease, voice light and relaxed. The exhaustion slowly sets in your bones. 
“You know I am,” Nayeon huffs, hips dropping, limbs spread limply. 
You’re still a sick human, and you want to see the result of your activities. You nudge Nayeon’s leg, easily responsive as they spread a little. You bite your tongue at the sight of your essence dribbling out of her swollen lips. It’s hot, filthy to see you all over her. You wish you had a phone nearby to snapshot this into memory, but your mind drifts off to recreating it at a later date.
You yawn, collapsing next to her that she scoots to snuggle into your side. You fight to keep your eyes open because you still have to clean up. Nayeon mumbles something into your skin. You don’t quite catch what she says, softly asking her to repeat it, and you freeze. 
“I love you.”
It’s a finicky thing, this thing between you and Nayeon. Somewhere along the way, you fell for her. Maybe you knew the moment you met her, or maybe you knew that you would at some point in time. Or maybe you knew the night she walked into your office because by then, it had built up between you that that was the final piece of the puzzle to confirm what you’ve known. 
The hormones flow between you, and you can’t help but think that’s the only reason why. You’re an idiot too, “Are you just saying that?” Nayeon’s hand presses into your chest. You open your eyes to her peering over you, hair an unruly mess, “What?”
Nose scrunching, Nayeon rolls her eyes, “You seriously believe I’d throw that around so easily?”
You don’t, but this was Nayeon. You may have been sleeping with her for a while, but you’ve heard the girls talk about their flings. You could almost guarantee that she’s only been sleeping with you, but they know how to hide things. 
“Stupid,” Nayeon shakes her head when you ask again. “Did you just say it?”
You did. You do. It’s not just the hormones causing you to act like such a love struck idiot. You weigh the situation, knowing that whatever answer you give will change your relationship. It won’t be an illicit affair between an idol and her manager. It’ll be hard because you’d still have to keep it a secret, unless you changed companies, something you’d be willing to do. 
“No,” You send an easy smile, “I love you. I’m in love with you.” 
Nayeon’s face lights up, beaming with all her teeth showing, eyes crinkling in the corners. She kisses you, softly, tenderly, a contrast to how you were no less than five minutes ago. 
“I love you,” Nayeon says quietly, an unspoken vow passed between you. She understands what this means, being together for real, that there will be hardships, but she’ll do them with you. 
You sigh contentedly against her lips, whispering those same three words, full of intent and promise. 
“No more dates with Suji-unnie,” Nayeon sing-songs, confident after pecking you on the lips, smug at accomplishing her mission of making you hers. 
-- -- -- 
(pardon any mistakes or typos, lol)
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emphistic · 1 day
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hi emm! Since it’s prom season could u make basketball sukuna reacting to someone from the team asking you out for prom?
A/N: hii! i actually received a vv similar request a long time ago and i deleted it because i didnt know how to write it, so maybe this is a sign from God — my redemption time, LMAO
PS: sorry to all my readers who are actually jelly lovers, i am not one of you
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“So,” Gojo started, while shoving fries into his mouth, “have you got a date yet? Prom’s comin’ up real quick, y’know?”
The basketball team had just won their last game of the season, and all the players were eating out together in celebration. Sukuna was planning on just spending the rest of the night celebrating with you, like usual, but Gojo dragged him away and you only gave a thumbs up in encouragement. What a girlfriend you were, Sukuna scoffed, handing off your dear boyfriend to Gojo Satoru.
“Why do you care?” Sukuna grimaced at Gojo’s messy eating habits. How could one dare to speak while stuffing their face? Sukuna thought Gojo grew up wealthy, and, hey, aren’t rich people supposed to be, like, super into decorum? Where is this man’s etiquette?
“Sheesh, sorry for asking. I just wanted to know if my friend here,” he nudged Sukuna with his elbow, “needed some help getting a date. No need to be ashamed, Captain. I could hook you up with one of Utahime’s friends.”
“Yeah, no. But since you’re so curious, Satoru, I do have a date, actually.”
“No way, seriously? The big, bad, captain of the basketball team, has a date? For prom? I have to tell Suguru this.” Gojo whipped out his phone and, with his sauce-covered fingers, started typing like a madman.
Sukuna cringed, looking away and biting into his burger. This did not taste as good as your cooking. Why oh why did you let Satoru take him away? he thought. Sukuna would much rather be with you right now, even if it meant having to sit through one of your godawful rom-coms. Any of those would be better than Gojo fucking Satoru.
“I cannot believe he is missing this because he’s sick. Sick! That’s actually sick of him. Haha, get it?” Gojo leaned back in his chair, and Sukuna wished he would slip and fall backwards.
“There’s nothing shocking about me having a date, Satoru. I’m not some kind of loser.”
“Yeah, well. Yorozu’s not attached to your arm right now, so I thought—”
“I told you, I don’t like her like that. I don’t like her at all, matter of fact.”
“She’s, like, obsessed with you, dude.”
“I know,” Sukuna ran a hand down his face. “Just wish she would leave me alone, I’ve been trying my best to avoid her. And I haven’t seen her as often, so I think it’s working.” If Yorozu didn’t take the hint sooner or later, Sukuna would make your guys’ relationship known to the whole campus if he had to. Hell, Gojo didn’t even know yet. No one did, actually.
“Damn, so cold. You just gonna ignore her and break her heart?” Gojo laughed, but that quickly came back to kick him in the butt when he started choking on a fry.
“If you’re not joking, that fry will be the last thing you eat. I swear on your life, I do not want anything to do with that bitch.”
Gojo continued coughing and choking and shaking, but when all subsided and the white-haired man regained most of his posture, he posed the question, “So, you’re not gonna, like, ask me?”
“Ask you what? Ask you to prom? The fuck?”
“No, no, no. I mean, unless you wanted to,” Gojo tucked an overgrown strand of hair behind his ear, a stupid expression on his stupid face. “But, I’m talking about what I asked you. So, you gonna ask me if I have a prom date?”
“I don’t give a fuck if your lame ass has a date or not,” Sukuna spat out.
“Have you any idea how hurt I am now, because of you? Ehuhwaaa,” Gojo let out the fakest ugliest cry Sukuna had ever heard. “You think my ass is lame? Do you know how many would pay to see even a glimpse of my tush?”
“No. And I hope it stays that way.”
“I—how dare you.”
That night, Sukuna had to run away from Gojo in the parking lot of an In-n-Out. Otherwise, Gojo would’ve probably never left him alone. And, you might be thinking, Gojo is a fast runner. How did Sukuna get away? Well, it may or may not have been because Gojo had scarfed down three double-doubles prior. And he could barely stand upright without having to lean against Sukuna.
But, fear not, Sukuna did make it home, into your arms. And even though he did have to sit through your stupid rom-coms, he was so fucking glad to finally be away from that white-haired idiot.
Unfortunately for Sukuna, that peace and tranquility was short-lived. The next morning, he was woken up by your overly obnoxious doorbell. Seriously, when were you going to replace it?
Sukuna groaned, whispering into your hair, “Didn’t know you were expecting visitors, babe.”
“Hm?” Your voice was muffled; your face pressed impossibly close into Sukuna’s bare chest.
“Visitor, sweetheart. Someone’s at your door.”
“Huh?” You stuck your head up from your human pillow, and though missing the warmth, you were quite confused. Visitor? Since when?
It’s safe to say you were even more surprised to see Gojo Satoru outside when you opened your door. But you weren’t the only confused one, not for long, at least. Gojo raised his brow when he saw Sukuna emerge from behind you in all his glory: shirt nowhere to be found, hair unruly, and sweatpants hanging low on his hips.
“Captain? What are you—?” Gojo cleared his throat, “Whatever. Anyway, will you, Y/N, do me the honor of being the jelly to my peanut butter and going to prom with me?” Gojo flashed a smile so bright Sukuna almost fell backwards.
“Uhh, I’m sorry—”
“She doesn’t even like jelly, dumbass. And what’s with this horrendous sign? That’s seriously the best you’ve got?” Sukuna gestured with his chin at the poorly drawn and colored peanut butter jar and jelly. Not to mention, Gojo was also dressed as a sandwich, with two slices of bread on either side of his body.
“What the hell? How would you know if she liked jelly or not?”
“Because I’m her prom date.”
“And—and, what are you doing at her house?”
“I’m her boyfriend.” Sukuna glared at the white male, and slung an arm around your shoulder, out of spite.
Gojo paused, finally putting the puzzle pieces together. “Ohhh. So that’s why you didn’t want to come eat with us yesterday. And that’s why you were so desperate to go home. And that’s why I haven’t seen you with another girl in months.”
“Uh huh.”
“Anywho,” Gojo turned back to you, shoving his sign all up in your face. “Will you go to prom with me?”
“Dude.”
Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura
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luveline · 2 days
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i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗
Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up. 
You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time. 
You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek. 
Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last. 
He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all. 
When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips. 
He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat. 
You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons. 
“Do you know his name?” he asks. 
“No.” 
He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least. 
“What happened?” 
“I told him no.” 
His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?” 
You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you. 
“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight. 
Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin. 
“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin. 
“I think I want to quit.” 
He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.” 
“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.” 
“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.” 
“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out. 
“You don’t really think that.”
Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong. 
“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.” 
“You can say strip.”
He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?” 
You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–” 
“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.” 
If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe. 
You can’t begrudge him. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.” 
“It’s not your fault.” 
“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.” 
You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.” 
Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise. 
“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.” 
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okwonyo · 2 days
Text
when you secretly join their live.
엔하이픈 ୨୧ female reader six hundred requested! fluff established relationship + cw. repost not proof-read pet-names ( other )
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heeseung would do an instant double take. approaching the phone close to his face to read the username that just ran through the screen. so much that the only thing fans would be able to see would be his eyes. would be cheesing extremely hard, after he made sure that it was you, staying silent for a while as he reads your comments. “you are cute..” he would read, nose becoming red-ish, “ah~ i know you are much cuter, baby,”
jay would play it off as the good professional as he is. would read all your comments while holding his new guitar, that you gifted to him as a birthday present, close to his heart. his eyes would scrunch and a shy smile would appear on his face every time you compliment his look. you would say something along the lines of ‘play my favorite song, please’ and he would do it. as he would play, he would realize that he misses you. so he would find an excuse to end the live and come see you.
jake would be well too invested in his rambling to even notice your presence, at first. you would have to wait for him to make a quick pause to look at the comments for him to notice your presence. the fact that there is people watching other than you, would fly all the way above his head after a while. giggling and biting his lip, per usual, whenever you would leave a remotely flirty comment. would barely be able to respond by something else than “stop..” as he would look away and chuckle nervously.
sunghoon would notice you right away. you would join during those moments where he is just staring at the camera without saying anything. would absentmindedly fix his posture, and his hair as well. would be so happy when you comment that he looks cute, given the fact that you were the one who told him he would look great with that look. oo~ thank you,” he would grin. “i hoped you would like it”
sunoo would, with a noticeable fondness in his voice, be talking about you a few minutes before you join the live. would say that you are one of his friends, though, to keep it a bit secret and mysterious. you would comment ‘is a friend all i am to you ? hahaha ><’ and he would be a bit confused about the comment, would even read it out loud. his hand would fly to his mouth after he would realize who you are. a couple of laughter after, he would go back to telling the story with a cute smile.
jungwon would so surprised to see your secret username here. would be casually reading the comments and stop suddenly. “don’t eat while you lay in bed, you’ll get sick,” you would comment and he would read for everyone to hear. “i do what-” he would start replying and cut himself off when the realization hits. his demeanor would change instantly, “mhh.. it’s okay, right ? you’ll take care of me, hehe” with a cute smile, just to tease you.
riki would be the type to answer to your message while he is on live, because he doesn’t like leaving you on delivered. so, he would respond to you when you ask him if he is having a live right now. you would watch the live without saying much at first, just admiring your pretty boyfriend. would become all red in the face and shy when you comment about it. he would not know that it is you by your secret account’s username but most definitely by the nickname only you can call him.
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this was so fun to write ~ all the credit and thanks to pupu and tamie for the idea ! ♡
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evie-sturns · 2 days
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toddler - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: having 2 toddlers isn't the easiest, espically when you're currently pissed at your husband matt after an argument. one night you get pushed to the point of a breakdown when the kids won't behave and matt's there to help you.
contains: dad!matt, fluff, slightly suggestive , crying, slight mental breakdown, comforting, angst?
a/n: this was loosely based off of how daddy matt was in today's vid.
----———--------------..••°°°°••..------------————
7:38pm
matt and i had an argument last night leaving me in tears, he’s been in his bedroom this whole day leaving me to deal with our two twins which are both 3 and a half.
i attempt to cook up something that somewhat resembles a dinner for our girls but the only thing occupying my mind is the events of what happened last night.
yesterday
“why is this house always so fucking messy!” matt’s voice booms throughout the living room as he abruptly stands up
“shit, i don’t know maybe because you got me pregnant at 18 and i’m the only one who does anything for the kids our this house!” i raise my voice back at him
matt lets out a shocked laugh “sorry that some people have fucking jobs and don’t lay on their ass with the kids all day and call it tiring?”
“lay on my ass? i clean, i cook, i take the girls to daycare and i bring them home, i do everything”
“if everything includes not having a fucking job and using up my money that i earn then sure, you do a whole lot” matt says with a slight attitude.
“all you fucking do is act like you have it hard when you don’t! get a fucking grip” he yells
the whole room goes silent, i erupt into tears and walk out of the room to our spare bedroom
“and always fucking crying.” i hear him scoff, only making my state worse.
my thoughts are cut off by a wail coming from behind me, my head spins back to see millie with a fistful of claire’s hair, yanking.
i instantly drop the wooden spoon into the pot before speed walking towards the twins
“stop it!” i yell, grabbing millie from under her arms and staring into her eyes angrily “go find daddy, not acceptable millie.” i raise my voice, placing her down.
she folds her arms with a huff, stomping her little legs down the corridor to matt and i’s shared room.
“you’re okay claire” i coo, fixing her pigtail which sits on the very top of her head
i pick her up and place her down on the couch with one of her stuffed animals before making my way back towards the kitchen.
i turn down the heat on the stovetop slightly with an exhausted sigh
suddenly i hear small giggles coming from behind me followed by the backs of my knees being pushed
“fuck!” i yell, stumbling over and grabbing the handle to the pot, spilling boiling spaghetti onto the floor, also splashing up onto my sweater.
millie goes silent before sprinting in the other direction with claire
as of things couldn’t get any worse right now i hear matt’s voice start something
“what are you actually fucking doin-“ he cuts himself off when he sees the state i’m in
i burst into sobs, matt looks down at me with concern painted across his face
“hey- shh sh you’re okay, you’re okay.” he says frantically, walking over to me and kneeling on the floor
“matt i can’t do this the kids aren’t behaving and i can’t fucking make them something they’ll like-“ i start, saying in between shaking breaths
he carefully picks me up from under my arms before switching his grip to the back of my thighs, i bury my face into his shoulders and feel matt take in panicked breaths
he speed walks us down into our bedroom at the end of the corridor, “are you hurt sweetheart?” he says, placing me down on the bed and peeling my sweatshirt off of me
“did the hot water soak through? shit.” matt says trying to stay calm.
“no-“ i sniff, rubbing my eyes. matt yanks his sweatshirt off his body and lays it across me like a blanket.
“stay right here okay? i’m gonna sort the kids out then put them to bed, then i’ll come back to talk, try get some sleep for me gorgeous.”
matt presses a kiss to my nose before rushing out of the room, leaving the door open behind him.
i have a clear view of kitchen from where i’m laying so i see matt walk into the kitchen before kneeling down
“c’mere.” he demands, sticking out his arms. millie and claire toddle over to him with a guilty expression across their face.
“tell me what’s happened.” matt says sternly, maintaining eye contact with both of them.
millie bursts into tears almost immediately as she looks at matt
matt runs his hand up and down her arm as he waits for a response
“we- we pushed mommy and she fell and spilt hot water on her and hurt her” she sniffs
“a-and.. and you’re mad at me” she continues.
“do i look mad sweetheart?” matt says softly, claire shrugs along with millie
“i’m really really sad that you weren’t behaving for mommy, and i know you know better than that right?” matt speaks
millie nods, wiping her nose with the backs of her hand
“and now i’m gonna ask you to go clean up the spill with claire and then we’re gonna go say sorry to mom okay?” he says gently, pressing two kisses to the girls forehead
they nod in unison before going into the kitchen, matt hands them the paper towels and they instantly drop down to there knees and attempt to clean the mess.
matt watches while biting his nails “why do you think you made mommy cry though?” he says, claire looks up at him with a heaped pile of paper towels in her hands
“because we were naughty.” claire sighs, matt nods while gathering the piles of drenched paper towels and throwing them away.
“what i’m ‘gonna ask you to do is sit down at the kitchen table and think about how you will say sorry to mommy tomorrow while i make you dinner okay girls?”
claire and millie run over to the dining table, more than hungry and tired now.
matt sorts through the pantry before settling on mac and cheese which i wasn’t even sure we had.
after a good 10 minutes matt brings over the two small bowls to the twins, who have been silent ever since they sat down.
“you have to eat all of this okay?” matt says while placing the bowls down. claire and millie nod
—-
8:56pm
matt finishes up the last dishes in the sink before walking over to the girls “you alright?” he asks softy before picking both of them up, one in each arm.
matt walks down the corridor, flashing me a quick smile as both the girls bury their head in his shoulders.
“they’re very tired” he mouths to me with a small laugh while walking into their shared bedroom.
i hear the door shut followed by matt walking into our bedroom. “you feeing better gorgeous?” he asks calmly as he flops down in bed beside me.
“thank you for doing that.” i sigh, rubbing my eyes with my palms.
“don’t thank me? i’m their dad and i realise that after yesterday’s.. argument that you’re right and i do need to start caring more.” matt looks over at me.
“you don’t have to just say that” i whisper
“i’m not just saying that, i actually mean it.” matt responds with an unreadable expression
“the shit you said last night..” i start, my voice wobbling “i’m gonna find it hard to forget, because i know that in that moment you meant it.”
matt goes silent,
“and i know that you’re busy but i try, so hard to make you and the girls happy, meaning that i don’t have free time to work because everything i do is for you?” i keep going, several tears now rolling down my cheeks
“so you saying that you should help our more around the house and pretending like everything’s perfect between us isn’t gonna fix shit.”
i physically can’t keep speaking unless i want to start sobbing so i stop, taking in a shaky breath.
matt doesn’t say anything back, instead sitting up and grabbing me and pulling me into a deathly tight hug.
the few tears that fell dampen the shoulder of his shirt as he rubs my back.
“i don’t even know how to apologise.” matt says, his voice trembling.
“please- don’t cry.” he whispers, “i’m just really tired” i squeeze out
“i know i’ve been a shit.. person for the past year or so and trust me, you and the girls are on my mind every single minute of every day and- and there’s no excuse for what i said yesterday except for the fact i wasn’t thinking straight.”
matt rambles
“i shouldn’t have yelled, or said anything. i know, i know you have it way harder than me, and i’m not just saying that it’s true.”
“you don’t have to forgive me at all today, tomorrow or in general for this but i love you and i’m so sorry.”
matt finishes by pulling away to look at my face, which he cups in both his hands.
“thank you.” is the only thing i reply with, somewhat shocked by that 2 minute long tangent.
matt lays back down on the matress, pulling me towards him. i lay my head down on his chest with a deep breath in, instantly falling asleep
————
9:56am the next day
the morning sun burns into the side of my face as i roll over in bed,
my eyebrows knit together when i realise matt’s not next to me like normal.
i sit up in bed, wiping my eyes as i attempt to run my fingers through my tangled hair.
i stumble out of bed towards the door of our bedroom, gripping the handle lazily and swinging it open.
the whole house is perfectly clean “what the fuck..” i mumble to myself as i walk into the living room where my eyes lay on my favourite sight
my 3 favourite people, matt claire and millie are sat on the sofa, matt’s in the middle and the girls are cuddled up to his side while matt holds open a picture book which he stops reading when i walk in.
“good morning pretty” matt smiles stupidly, i grow a small smile on my face.
“i think that someone has something to say to mom?” matt says, looking down at each of the girls.
they run up to me and wrap their arms around each of my legs “were really sorry” claire says, i bend down to their height and give them a smile
millie follows up with a “and i’m sorry for hurting you a- and i love you a lot!” she says with a cute smile.
“it’s okay sweetheart, i love you.” i grin, wrapping my arms around them before standing back up.
“and i’m gonna make it up to you tonight” matt says quietly while walking over to me
“matthew bernard! you horny mother fucker” i whisper.
————
@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209
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moonstruckme · 2 days
Note
I know nothing about spencer actually, since I never watch his series. But I read on one of your fics that spencer is germphobia?
Could I request one where spencer gets home after a case for a week and found reader sick in the bathroom?, and she's kinda locked herself since she knows spencer germphobia?
You know that kind of fever where you sweat and throw up nonstop
It's been so long after you write spencer. I miss your spencer a lottttttt TnT
Thank you for requesting! I’m not totally sure if Spencer is canonically confirmed germophobic but he’s definitely sensitive to germs, so we’ll roll with that :) 
cw: nausea, vomiting
Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 832 words
You’re not at your best, shaky and sweaty, but when you hear the front door open you move quick as a flash. 
“Hello?” Spencer’s call echoes through the apartment. 
“Hi,” you say back, quieter than you intend. Still, he finds you easily, and you’re glad you reacted fast when the handle on the bathroom door jiggles. “What are you doing here?” 
Spencer’s taken to staying at your place, but when he’d called you from the jet to tell you his case was over you’d said to go back to his apartment. With what he knows about how sick you’ve been the last couple of days, you thought he’d listen. 
“You shouldn’t be by yourself,” he answers simply. He doesn’t try the handle again, but his voice sounds just on the other side of the door. “Are you okay?” 
“I’ve been better,” you admit, breathing through another wave of nausea, “but I’ll be fine. You should go home.” 
“I am home. Open the door.” 
“Spence,” you sigh. The tips of your fingers are cool against your temples, and you press them in to quell the uneasy feeling that comes with having your brain so muddled. “You don’t want to come in here.” 
“Why can’t I decide that?” There’s an odd scraping sound on the other side of the door. 
“Because you’re too nice. I know how you feel about germs.” The mutinous acid vat of your stomach revolts again, and you cough a couple of times, swallowing forcefully. 
“I’m just as likely to get sick from pressing an elevator button,” Spencer insists gently. “Seriously, let me in.” 
“Go home,” you plead. 
“I’m coming in.” 
You sigh, bending to lean your head against the cool porcelain of your tub. “What, are you going to kick the door in?” He’s told you about his coworker Morgan doing that, but you don’t think of your scrawny (though you love him for it) boyfriend as capable of such measures. 
“Not quite.” Another scraping sound, and you sit up as your bathroom door tips outward. Spencer catches it before it can fall, easing it down onto the floor before stepping over it. He’s taken the whole thing off its hinges. 
“Show off,” you say tiredly, too spent to do anything about it as he walks over to you. 
“Yeah, well,” Spencer lifts some flyaway baby hairs off your neck, cool knuckles pressing to the hot skin, “I didn’t want to damage your door. You didn’t tell me your fever was this bad.” 
“I told you I was sick.” 
“I feel like ‘sick’ is more or less ambiguous,” he says, not unkindly. His touch moves to your face, long, slender fingers laying down across your forehead. “How high is it?” 
“Dunno.” You swallow thickly. “Haven’t checked. Are you okay?” 
“I touched a dead body yesterday; so long as I shower after this I’ll be fine. How have you not checked?” 
“I can’t—find—” You cough as bile rises in your throat, bending over the toilet “—the—” 
“Okay, it’s okay.” Spencer rubs your back. Your coughing turns into retching. “I got it. I’ll look for the thermometer soon, okay?” 
You nod, tears pressing at your eyes as you dry heave. The muscles in your throat and abdomen spasm painfully. 
Spencer makes a sorry sound, his hand coasting up and down the ridges of your spine. “You haven’t been eating anything, have you?” It’s not really a question. “We need to get something in your system. You know that ‘starve a fever’ saying is an old wives’ tale, right?”
He sits with you until the fit abates, then stands and leaves the room. You hear cabinet doors opening and shutting, and before long he’s got a wet rag cooling the back of your neck, you’re sipping water out of a straw, and he’s sticking your previously missing thermometer in your ear. 
“I’ll probably have to go soon if I want to get to the store before it closes,” he’s saying quietly, free hand settled comfortably north of your knee. You’re trying really hard not to breathe in his face. “It’d be good to have some cheerios or something for you to eat, and something with electrolytes.” 
The thermometer beeps, and he pulls it close to read the screen, a frown pursing his pretty lips. 
“Are you sure you want to stay?” you ask, though at this point you really want him to as well. “I don’t want to freak you out.” 
Spencer sets the thermometer aside. “You’re not freaking me out,” he says, hands gentle as he takes the rag from your neck and folds it onto a new side before putting it back. You almost sigh. “The worst thing that can happen is I get sick, and” —he meets your eyes, mouth tipping upward as he shrugs— “if that happens, it can’t be helped. But if I went back to my apartment, and I was fine there but you were still sick here by yourself, well, what’s the point in that?” 
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norrisleclercf1 · 3 days
Text
Little Champions
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader x Max Verstappen
Rating: PG
Warnings: None, just some good ole fluff
Words: 1.1K
Synopsis: It's just a normal morning in the Hamilton-Verstappen household
A/N: Yeahhhhh this was totally self indulgent
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You knew the moment your little one was up; it was hard not to tell when they were awake. The little patter of feet and a giggle had you smiling, but you knew you needed to pretend to still be sleeping.
"Papa," you hear the groan of your husband next to you and a body shift. A little giggle leaves your little one's mouth, and a little weight joins you in the bed. 
"Mijn paardenbloem, you have to be quiet. Mommy is still sleeping." Max wraps his arm around his little girl and smiles, seeing the curls she inherited and the bright blue eyes that match him. "Papa, where's Daddy?" Sophie asks, looking around for her other father. "He's running, now, lay down and we can cuddle." You smile when you hear that, as Max hated being cuddled, but when it came to your baby girl, 
"Yes!" She squeals, and Max chuckles as you hear bodies moving. After some time, it grows quiet, and you peek your eyes open, seeing the sleeping faces of Max and Sophie. Silently reaching over, you grab your phone and take a picture of them, sending it to your other partner and then climbing out of bed. Walking to their side, you lean over and kiss their cheeks, their nose twitching the same way. 
Stepping out, you head to the kitchen to start on breakfast. Opening the window, you listen to the birds and smile at your little garden, which grows veggies and flowers. Sassy and Jimmy move around your feet but make sure not to trip you, as you can't see them now. "Woah," you giggle, feeling a little kick, and look down at your round stomach; about five months along, you touch where the baby kicked you. "Easy, little one," You tease and rub the area, feeling the baby kick you again. 
Humming, you start cooking the eggs and sausage and cutting up some fruit for Max and Sophie when you gasp, feeling cold hands wrap around you. "Good morning," Shivering, you turn and stare at your gorgeous, sweaty husband. "Morning, Lewis." Lewis hums and kisses you gently, which makes you sigh. "Where are Max and Sophie?" He asks, and you nod your head towards the bedroom. "Knocked out, but this one here is kicking me," Lewis chuckles and steps forward, placing his hand on your round stomach. 
"Yeah, just like Max. A fucking terror." You giggle, and Lewis smiles, bending down and kissing you right where they kick you. The kicking stops, and Lewis sighs, "I've got to take a shower," You nod and turn back to the fruit, Lewis walking into the bedroom. Tiptoeing into the room, Lewis smiles, seeing Max and Sophie curled up into one another. Leaning over, Lewis places a soft kiss on Max's temple and one on his daughter's cheek. "You smell," Lewis chuckles lowly, looking at bright blue eyes. "Yes, I was training." Max smiles, making no attempt to get up. 
"It's the summer break, Lew, enjoy it." Lewis moves, fingers moving through the short strands of blonde hair. "Just makes me feel better; besides, I have much to think about." He whispers, and Max nods, understanding. It would be Lewis's last season with Mercedes, and the car still had trouble. "Anything I can help with?" Max was soft with his question; he knew Lewis liked to work things out alone. "No, baby, I'm leaving soon anyways," Max nods and sighs, Sophie moving closer, staring down at his daughter. Lewis thinks back to when he made the decision. 
"Everything will be okay, Lewis, and we'll fight each other on track soon. You're not done." Lewis looks at Max, staring at their daughter and taking her in. "Also, I think she'd like it if Papa and Daddy were on the same podium again." That's why Lewis had to leave; Mercedes was putting more pressure on him, and he wanted to live closer to his family. Constantly flying back and forth from Britain to Monaco. At least with Ferrari, they won't bother him when he is home with family. 
Lewis's phone rings and he groans; Max reaches behind him, grabs Lewis's phone, and sees it's Toto. "No, we're about to leave for vacation; he shouldn't even be calling you," Max grumbles, sitting up and pulling away when Lewis reaches for the phone. "Max, give me the phone." Max shakes his head no and swipes left, ending the annoying ringing. "Max," Lewis groans, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "Max, phone." Max shakes his head no and gets a look in his eyes. 
Reaching over the bed, Max dodges it and lands on the other side, Sophie sitting up confused. "Max, come on. It's too early for this," Max chuckles and holds the phone up. "No, Lewis, you promised. No phones on the trip, and I see this as a work phone." Lewis leans on the bed, and Sophie giggles, thinking they are playing. "Daddy, play with me." Lewis looks up and chuckles, his baby girl's hair a mess. "Baby girl, your hair is a mess." Lewis chuckles, and Max takes the opportunity to bolt out of the room; Lewis moves but misses him and groans as Sophie laughs loudly. 
"What are you doing?" you yell, but Max doesn't answer. He runs to his SIM room and slams the door shut. "Lewis?" Lewis carries Sophie out, who giggles and worms her way down, Lewis sits her down, and she runs after her Papa. "Papa! Open!" You hear the SIM door open and then giggle, and the door closes fast. "What is he doing?" "Hiding my work phone in the cat's toys again." He shrugs his shoulders and takes a bite of the fruit. 
"You should stop bringing that phone into the house, Max hides it all the time." Lewis hums and takes a bite of his vegan pancakes. "I know, but it makes him and Sophie laugh, so it doesn't bother me." You smile, leaning over the best you can and kissing your husband. "Max, Sophie, breakfast!" Tiny feet and then heavier feet behind her as they come in, smiling brightly. She had his smile, which makes you and Lewis melt seeing it. 
"Daddy, uppy?" Sophie gives big puppy eyes, and Lewis can't resist, so he picks her up and settles her in his lap. "Can I sit there too, Daddy," Lewis cuts a glare at Max, which makes you giggle, Sophie laughing only cause you are laughing. "Find you're own seat." Max pouts but sits down next to Lewis as you serve breakfast. Lewis and Max help Sophie eat, and she basks in being spoiled by her Papa and daddy. 
Staring at your little family, you smile, touching your growing stomach with much love. Max looks up and smiles one of his toothy smiles, which makes you smile back. Yeah, you love your little family. 
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luvyeni · 2 days
Text
𐙚 : THINGS YOU DO THAT RILE THEM UP (request) ֶָ֢ !
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request: riize and small things reader does and gets them riled up by accident?
authors note. i hope you like it 🩶!!!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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𐙚 : SHOTARO ֶָ֢ !
when you're clingy and needy for him , he loves that shit, not even in a sexual way , just when you just want his attention in anyway — he's harder than ever.
"taro." he smiled hearing your whiny voice. "taro give me attention." he chuckled, he loved when you act like this, calling his name whining, pawing at his arm, he could feel himself getting hard— and you didn't even do anything really. "come here baby." he pulled you into his arms. "this is what you wanted." you nodded , as he rocked you back and forth. "yes." he kissed his cheek. "so cute baby." he moved down to your neck. "always so needy baby." you felt his hand going down your sides, down to your waist. "ju-just wanna cuddle." his hands going into your shorts. "we can cuddle baby, just let me touch you a little." you moaned out as he cupped your cunt. "so wet baby." he chuckled.
"i love when you're needy for me baby, makes me so hard."
𐙚 : EUNSEOK ֶָ֢ !
your attitude, give him any bit of attitude and he's horny and ready to fuck — he loves a brat; he loves to fuck it right out of you.
you made one mistake— one and he'd start lecturing you , going on and on about nonsense in your opinion. "look at you." he said. "you aren't even listening to me." he said. "i am , i am i promise." you rolled your eyes, it had been an hour and he was still going. what you didn't see is eunseok smirk , watching your eyes roll. "you really love rolling those eyes don't you." he said. "keep giving me attitude, keep doing it." you heard the darkening in his voice , how could he be getting hard at this. "you're a freak." you scoffed , getting up to leave the room, only to be thrown back on the bed by your boyfriend. "eunseok!" you exclaimed. "shut up." he said, you immediately shut up. "tired of having to talk to you about the same shit everyday." he grabbed your cheeks. "and that fucking attitude."
"you're lucky this shit turns me on, gonna fuck this attitude right out of you"
𐙚 : SUNGCHAN ֶָ֢ !
wearing his clothes— sungchan will go weak seeing you in his shirts , his sweatpants anything really but it really makes him hard when you're wearing one of his shirts with nothing but panties on.
getting ready for the night , drying your hair off while sungchan played on his phone waiting for you to get done so you can sleep. "baby." you heard your boyfriend whine out. "come on , i need you to sleep." you laughed , hearing him shuffling around on the bed. sungchan climbed off the bed , walking into the bathroom. "what's taking so lo—" his voice got caught in his throat as his eyes traveled down your form at your clothes, or lack thereof. you were wearing one his shirts , your arms were lifted so he could see you were wearing a pair of black underwear, your ass peaking out from the bottom. "channie?" you questioned he abrupt stopped— he didn't say anything, striding over to you, picking you up sitting you on the counter of the sink. "you're so hot in my clothes." his cock pressing against your lightly clothed cunt, you let out a whimper.
"gonna need another shower after i pump you full of my cum."
𐙚 : WONBIN ֶָ֢ !
playing with his hair is a sure way to get him hard; it doesn't matter if you're doing in unintentionally or on purpose , it's gonna get him hard.
sitting in between your legs , watching tv when he felt your hand go up to his head— letting out a sigh as he felt you fingernails scratching his scalp as you scrolled through your phone unaware that he was struggling to keep himself together, his cock chubbing up in his sweats , desperate to be touched. "ba-baby." he stuttered , fuck he felt like he was gonna cum untouched. "baby stop." he grabbed your hand, you looked up from your phone, confused. "you okay wonie?" he shook his head. "what's wrong baby?" you said ,concerned laced in your voice. "you know i love when you play in my hair baby." you finally heard the desperation in his voice. "are you hard?" he whined , turning around. "please baby."
"i need you to pull on my hair while im fucking you."
𐙚 : SEUNGHAN ֶָ֢ !
when you're laying in bed , in a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top, no makeup , doing whatever you do— that makes him the horniest, your natural beauty.
coming home from a long day, sighing as he take his shoes off, the stress of the day weighing on him; slowly melting off as he walked to his room, hearing your laugh at something on tv. he smiled before he seen your face, opening the door to where you were, you immediately turn to him with a big smile on your face. "hannie." he dropped his bag , immediately throwing his body on yours. "hi princess." he inhales your scent. "long day baby?" he nodded, his hand coming up to your face, caressing your cheek. "im okay now that im here with you." he took in your clothes, his cock getting hard. "so gorgeous baby." he kissed you, grinding against you. "you look so pretty like this." you moaned out. "fu-fuck hannie." you mewled. "i got you baby don't worry." he whispered.
"gonna make you feel so fucking good, just lay there and look pretty like you always do."
𐙚 : SOHEE ֶָ֢ !
your scent— i don't think i've said this a lot , but sohee definitely is a perv and can get hard with just about anything that has something to do with you, but the smell of your shampoo or your body wash really gets him going.
fresh out the shower, hair washed ready to get into with your boyfriend who was waiting arms open to cuddle up with you. "come to papa." you cringed. "never say that again." you climbed into bed. "why are you embarrassed?" you nodded. "very." you opened your letting him fall into your arms. "my big baby." sohee inhaled your scent, the vanilla scent filling his nose, a shiver cascading down his spine, he could feel his cock hardening in his pajama pants. "sohee , are you hard." you chuckled. "baby you smell so good ." he whined. "so fucking good." he moved down to your stomach , kissing it. "need to taste you." he spread your legs open, kissing your thighs. "fu-fuck sohee." you moaned , gripping his hair when his nose brushed against your clit. "fuck baby your pussy smells so good." he licked your clothed cunt, moaning.
"your pretty pussy tastes just as good as she smells."
𐙚 : ANTON ֶָ֢ !
when you praise him— i believe in dom anton , but sometimes doms need to be praised too, and it doesn't even have to be sexual, you can tell him could job for opening the pickle jar for you and he's ready to fuck.
not saying anything, taking the jar out your hand , lifting you on the counter. "wh-what are you doing." you stuttered as he feverishly left kisses on your neck. "say it again." he said , working on the buttons on your pants. "what?" you moaned as he began to rut his hips, his hard cock rubbing against your heat. "go-good job." he groaned. "fuck that sounds so good coming from you." his hand coming up to your boobs, giving it a squeeze. "fuck anton, keep going please." you moaned, he pulled his cock from his pants giving it a few tugs, pulling your panties to the side. "please, put it in." you guided his length to your dripping hole. "fu-fuck you're so wet." he sighed, losing himself as your walls tightened around him. "fu-fuck say it again." he moaned. "fuck ton- go-good job, please keep fucking me." he moved faster. "fuck im gonna cum."
"i want you to keep telling me that while im fucking you."
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©️LUVYENI
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