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rimatsu · 4 months ago
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setting pessimism aside to daydream about my ideal bucktommy makeup scenario and i just... keep oscillating between buck extending an olive branch and tommy reaching out first. there's merit in both. yes i'd love for buck to discard passivity and fight for this salvageable relationship — for buck to look tommy straight in the eyes and tell him that his sharp edges and his vulnerable insides don't make him any less deserving of love. that he's not blinded by the excitement of novelty or misguided admiration — even without the full picture, buck has seen enough pieces of the puzzle that makes up tommy's whole to know that he loves the entirety of him, unspoken faults and past sins included. that buck can't guarantee forever but he sure as hell can try to build the sturdy foundation of a shared life based on the hope for more. that sometimes you just luck out on the first draw and there's nothing wrong with good fortune.
but it would also be extremely healing if tommy knocked on buck's door to chase after his own second chance. to say "i want you more than i'm scared of hurting" when buck asks him what's changed in 4 months — because tommy would rather live with scars than be haunted by regrets and what-ifs. because buck is worth the risk of never recovering from having loved him
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brains-out-rn · 1 month ago
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I don't like debating much(unless necessary for the sake of my own humanity) but sometimes it can be really Really fun specifically if it's about something that has absolutely no real weight to it(and yet if you were a spectator it might cause some concern for whatever reason)
for example: would you rather be threatened(physically mentally or emotionally take your pick) by a can of corn or a cob of corn?
Me personally I'd pick cob for a few reasons
1. I can outlast it(probably)
Fresh corn will eventually rot and decay but have you seen how long canned stuff can last unopened before it looks slightly different from new stuff??
2. Cans are made of metal not vegetable flesh
While a corn cob has its core that's not metal. Ever dropped a can? Might get a dent. If you have a good kick then you might survive but you will probably hurt your foot. Ever dropped corn? If it had it outer leaves and hair it might have stood a chance but if it didn't then bits of corn go everywhere
3. Actually fighting if needed
I feel like I could survive a fight with a sentient can but a sentient cob just seems less likely to hurt
However there are some things might change my decision
Like issue one which is how the corn moves because if the cob is fresh with hair and leaves and can move all the little hairs individually and can move the leaves then I'd probably choose the can because at that point I feel like it's less of "how would i survive with the least amount of bruising" and more of "how would I rather die but with a chance of surviving" and in my opinion i think blunt force trauma would be better then a slow death of strangulation via a sentient corns hair plus I do think I'd have a chance against a can of corn
Another issue is if it was mentally or emotionally I'd probably go with the can bc I feel like it would be easier for to rationalize it as ridiculous to be threatened by a can of corn then a cob for some reason
Like a cob is ridiculous to the point that I'd just accept it as making sense for that to happen?
a can is like "why am I listening to the can of corn. I literally own a can opener." But a cob is more like "if I were to try and deal with you in the traditional way of dealing with corn that would mean a pot and water and time and-"
Plus idk why but I feel like a cob would be less mean with its words. I can't explain it I just think cob would just go straight to physical threats instead of emotional ones but a can would stare at you menacingly making you question yourself and just judging you
#the part where some might be concerned is the fact that after coming up with that scenario it took me 3 seconds to decide on my awnser#this corn convo scenario didnt actually happened but ive had many similar convos#this may or may not make any sense but thats the fun of it in my opinion :D#the other part that concerns people so i dont tend to say it out loud as much is the “how would you rather die” part#so many people are just so uncomfortable with death they try to avoid discussing it at any cost even though its somthing coming for us all#its kinda sad#like i do get it. its hard to not only accept but really think about death as a reality#people dont like it when something good can end so they try to avoid it and try to deny it#its hard to look at something that youve been ingrained to consider as “bad” and see it as anything else#i feel like recognizing the fact that something will end can help you cherish it more in the present#and if you can recognize the good and accept that it will end you can also morph that when thinking about the bad#life isnt simple and neither is death#bad moments come and good moments come and bad moments and good moments and bad moments and good moments ect#is it really so weird that i dont ignore it?#like im going to die eventually welcome to reality but thats not right now.#right now i have blood moving in my arteries and veins right now im breathing and blinking periodically#right now im still alive and i intend to do the most i can with whatever time i have even if im still fighting myself to do basic tasks#its kinda sad that so many people think its better to ignore that our time is limited#maybe its just the way i grew up#i didnt face death a lot but my family moved every few years and whenever i met another kid i used to know it was never the same person#we were both different in ways that made it seem like we were entirely new people#i had to get to know them a second time practically from scratch so every time either one of us left there was always a part of me that knew#when one of us left we were done#like sure we could get to know each other again but it would never be how it had been#we would be new people to each other#idk i think that made it easier for me to accept the existence of death and not taking things for granted#like stuff happens life goes on make the best of it and make friends with everyone possible while it lasts#idk sheesh this started as me being like “i like weird and slightly stupid debates” and ended as “i have opinions on peoples veiws of death”#whatever hope my point is made i guess. good job making it this far? give me stupid questions pls(also 30 tag limit who knew: me now)#brains rambles
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sherlock-is-ace · 1 year ago
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#welcome to another installment of: angel spits out all his thoughts about autism cause if he keeps them inside his head will explode#in today's episode: is it possible that my ''panic attacks'' have been autistic meltdowns all this time?#then answer is maybe!#ok so i was watching this youtube video from channel I'm autisticn now what? (check it out it's great!)#and meg was talking about the different types of autistic meltdowns and how they might manifest#and then in the comments people were discussing autistic meltdowns vs panic attacks and how cofused they used to be about them#and that got me thinking... there's a big thing that needs to happen during a panic attack for it to be a panic attack#and that is anxious thoughts... many people talk about fear of death during panic attacks#and that was never my experience. I don't feel like I'm going to die when I have these ''attacks''#they feel painful and like i'm completely out of control but my head is quite clear in that regard#i always thought it was because i don't think dying is like The Worst thing that could happen to me so maybe that was why#and it never ocurred to me that it could be an autistic meltdown because i always saw those as ''little boy hits his head against the wall'#(horrible i know) but it's more than that! (plus i sadly started self harming when the ''attack'' is too bad so not i fit that idea lol)#it's the uncontrollable crying. the throwing anything you have at hand across the room. the not being able to utter words#(other than ''no'' in my case) it's the complete lack of control#and that fits so much more to what i experience! i even related to meg's personal anecdote about a meltdown she had as a child#being separated from my mom made me go into full panic modes as a kid and that was seen as a tantrum but it was more than that to me!#and as an added bonus the only therapist i've ever seen in my life used to call my panic attacks ''pseudo-panic attacks''#because even she felt it didn't quite fit in the description (not that she was a good therapist so i can't put her as an example lol)#but anyways... yeah every day that goes by i'm more and more convinced I am autistic and it scares me to fucking death#because of the way my mom reacted when i first raised the question. so yeah this is for nothing lol nothing will change in my life#¯\_(ツ)_/¯#angel talks#personal
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anashins · 4 months ago
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Room 803
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Pairing: university student!Jaehyun x kindergarten teacher!reader
Genre: fake engagement au, neighbors au, age gap, hate to love, drama, romance, smut
Word Count: 26k
Warnings: reader is five years older than Jaehyun; Jaehyun doesn't treat women very nicely in the beginning; there is a lot of scheming going on; some characters have a questionable moral compass (cheating, blackmailing, lying, traditional family arrangements); there is an explicit rated scene (handjob, mc gets hand over mouth) and two suggestive ones, all of which you can skip if you want
Summary: You hate your neighbor in room 803 to the core, because his raunchy and very vocal bed activities always keep you up at night. There is no scenario in which you can ever imagine tolerating a lousy brute like him—until you get entangled in a web of lies and your neighbor comes into picture to play along. Your raunchy, lousy neighbor, who, to your surprise, fits the role of your fake fiancĂ© very well. Almost too well.
A/N: Hi! So this is the result of ring window shopping and the Unconditional MV. I drew inspiration for the opening scene from my very own fic "Sinned" that I've first published on Aff. Leave feedback if you want <3 Happy reading! (D-482 until Jaehyun returns)
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Finding a suitable apartment in the downtown of a very busy metropolis was a challenge. 
There were many things to consider during apartment hunting: the location, the price, the layout, the facilities, and also the distance to the next station depending on your commute. Nobody wanted to live in a rundown one bedroom on the 10th floor with no elevator and paper thin walls for which you still paid a fortune.
You were very lucky to have none of that.
Your apartment consisted of two rooms in a new building and was located on the 8th floor. It had three elevators, a concierge service, and even a small convenience store connected to the lobby. It cost more than a third of your salary, but with all the benefits, it was worth it. You couldn’t have thanked your co-worker enough to have passed it on to you when she had moved away, so that you could finally live closer to your workplace.
You loved your new apartment. 
But you hated your neighbors.
A neighbor on the 9th floor liked to play the drums for at least two hours a day and usually chose to do that when you had already returned home from work. A neighbor on the 7th floor liked to discuss things very heatedly with his girlfriend right by the window. Three rooms away from you on the 8th floor, there was a dog barking constantly, and somewhere else in the building, a tenant invited guests over to throw a party almost every Saturday night.
But your next-door-neighbor living in room 803 was the worst. 
“Yes, right there! Oh my
 yes, yes yes!”
It was 1am on a Sunday night and you were supposed to get up in five hours, not having found even a single minute of sleep until now since the noises had been going on for an hour already at this point.
“Oh
 Jaehyun! Ahhh! Oooooh!”
You pressed your pillow against your face and muffled your agonized scream in it. Almost every night, it was the same. Sometimes earlier, sometimes later, and you were able to count yourself lucky if he paused these sessions for two or three days in a row. But then they came back even stronger. And tonight was such a night. 
“Yes, oh god
 oh my god! Ahhh, Jaehyun!”
You clenched your fist, raised your arm and hammered against the wall. 
But instead of slowing down, stopping or even reacting to you, you now heard his bed pound against the wall that separated your rooms, accompanied by the woman’s constant screaming.
“Shut up, it’s in the middle of the night!” you yelled.
“Get lost, we’re done already!” he yelled back.
Following his words, you then noticed the silence that had suddenly filled your room, finally allowing you to welcome your well-deserved sleep as tomorrow, another long workday awaited you. But your neighbor, of course, didn’t understand as he would start all over again tomorrow night. 
He was a university student in his senior year, his naturally dark hair constantly messy and bleached blond to the brink of extinction, always dressed in joggers and hoodies, and apparently enjoying life to the fullest. 
He was your neighbor Jeong Jaehyun, living in room 803 and your personal enemy since day one.
____
After having tried to conceal the dark circles under your eyes with heavy makeup the next morning, you were late again as you let the entry door fall closed behind you and hurried along the hallway with your heels audibly clacking over the floor. You called for the elevator by pressing the button and waited nervously, praying in silence that you would still catch the next subway.
From behind you, you heard another door getting opened and pivoting around, you spotted a woman stepping out of apartment 803. Or better say, she was thrown out as she only stood in the corridor in her underwear, another two pieces of clothing falling to her feet that had come shooting from the opened entry door. 
“I don’t even get breakfast?” she sulked as she picked up her clothes from the floor. 
“I told you not to rummage through my home.”
Jaehyun emerged by the door now, his blond hair sticking out to all sides as he seemingly tried to block her away back in. He was wearing a bathrobe and was clearly still tired too. Even though you wanted to, it was so hard for you to look away as you were curious about what was going on. 
“You’re an asshole!” the woman ranted while gathering her clothes. “I was only looking for a toothbrush!”
“You can look in your own home.” Jaehyun then dropped something else next to her on the floor while she was still crouching down. “Don’t forget your purse.”
You thought you were fast in turning away from the scene without anyone noticing, but he was faster in catching your curious eyes before you were facing them with your back. You drew in a breath and hoped he wouldn’t call you out on that, but Jaehyun wasn’t that kind of person. 
“Hey, Miss Neighbor!” he yelled. “Next time, instead of complaining
 how about joining?”
Bringing your bag closer to your body, you suppressed your embarrassment and looked back again to threaten, “Next time, I won’t be yelling only, but come over with my baseball bat!”
You hated the grin he then threw at you. “So you’re into that kind of stuff, huh? Come over and we’ll see about that.”
Luckily, one of the elevators reached your floor at exactly that moment and you were quick enough to get in before Jaehyun’s one night stand could make it to the door at the same time.
The entire commute to the kindergarten, you thought about nothing else than your lack of sleep and how to finally put an end to this entire nonsense. At this point, it was ridiculous. You had been enduring that kind of shenanigans for one month already, and you were slowly getting fed up. No, actually, you had reached your wit’s end already. In the beginning, it had been all good and quiet, and from one day to another, it had suddenly started.
You didn’t know who had hurt him so much that he needed to compensate for his pain in this manner, but you’d rather he wouldn’t drag you into it. It only forced you to interact with him when you wanted to be left alone altogether to focus on your career.
“What is it?” your class’ homeroom teacher asked you as you entered the common room that morning. “You look so tired again.” 
“Ah, it’s just that I can’t seem to sleep well lately,” you tried to budge as you placed your bag on the desk. “A weird planet constellation or something.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to tell her the truth. What were you supposed to say anyway? That your neighbor smashed different girls so loudly every night, it kept you up for hours? People would only laugh at you.
“Try lavender tea,” she recommended to you. “This always helps me.”
“I will. Thank you.”
On your way to your respectant classroom, you were greeted by the children who had just been dropped off and getting ready to start the day.
Teaching children had always been your dream, and being an assistant teacher at a reputable private kindergarten came with few advantages in comparison to public ones, a higher salary was one of them. The hardest part was not the amount of work or the long working hours, but the strict and high-demanding parents whose individual expectations you always had to meet.
But looking into these brightly smiling faces greeting you each morning, it was all worth it.
“There is something I need to tell you,” the homeroom teacher then announced when you reached the door of your respective classroom.
“Yes? What is it?”
She kneaded her fingers in reluctance, her bag clipped between her upper arm and body. “I’m going to transfer to another school.”
“Where would you go?” you asked, perplexed. “This is Shi-A kindergarten. There are no other more prestigious kindergartens in the entire district or even country if I dare say so. Except
 It’s not a kindergarten.”
She smiled and nodded. “I’m going to transfer to Shi-A elementary school. A teacher will quit by the next semester and they offered the position to me.”
You grabbed her hands, excitement written all over your face. “This is such great news! I’m so happy for you!”
“Hold on, the greatest part is yet to come.” She was five years your senior, but you saw her more like a sister than your supervisor. “I recommended you to the school board as the new homeroom teacher. The principal has agreed already, we’re currently preparing your recommendation letters.”
You were too stunned to ask more than, “Me?”
She nodded and squeezed your hands back in encouragement. “There is no one better here for this position other than you. You’re compassionate, you’re helpful and intelligent. The kids love you and rely on you. You’re finished being an assistant only, I can tell. And the principal as well.” 
“Me, as a homeroom teacher?” It sounded like a faraway dream.
“Miss!” A girl from your class, Soah, tugged on your coattail. She was holding something out to you. A yellow flower. “This is for you! I just plucked it, it was the prettiest on the playground!”
You took the flower into your hand and thanked her.
“Like I said,” the homeroom teacher commented with a wink as you entered the classroom, “there is no one better for this position other than you.”
____
“Ahhh, yes!! Jaehyun, Jaehyun!”
BAM BAM BAM
“I swear to god, Jeong Jaehyun, it’s 2am now, I will come for you!”
You jumped out of your bed, only dressed in a pair of pajama bottoms and a simple t-shirt, not bothering about throwing your bathrobe on or slipping into a pair of shoes at this point. You would only go to Jaehyun’s door and ring the bell to interrupt whatever they were doing right now.
“If I’m not getting any sleep, you’re not getting nutted either!”
Tomorrow, you had a very important meeting with the school board members and wanted to be well rested. So at least, for tonight only, you had hoped to get a few more hours of sleep. You had studied possible questions and answers for days by now and were not only tired, but also mentally exhausted.
But, of course, a reckless university student like Jaehyun wouldn’t understand.
When you reached your entrance door, just about to exit your apartment, you halted mid-motion, interrupted by a sound you had never heard before in this apartment building.
The fire alarm.
You were petrified at first, unsure how to react in such a situation as your mind wasn’t able to grasp the entire meaning yet. As it slowly sank down on you that it most likely meant danger as the alarm hadn’t subsided by now, you reacted very fast by finally opening the door and looking to your left and right.
At first, nothing happened, and you questioned whether your neighbors would react according to emergency plans. But then, one door after another opened on your floor and out stormed the tenants, passing by you and running down the stairs like their lives depended on it.
“Damn it!” you cursed and left your apartment the next moment as well, thinking about all your electronics and important papers that were still inside. 
But in kindergarten, you also regularly taught the children how to behave during a fire alarm, and the first and most important thing was to drop everything and get the hell out of the building. So when you were about to run down the stairs, you remembered that there was one person who hadn’t come out of their apartment yet.
“Hey!” you hammered against Jaehyun’s door after you had returned. “Hey! It’s a fire alarm! Can’t you hear?!”
Your own voice didn’t drown out the signal tone, but you tried nonetheless - to no avail. Jaehyun and whoever was with him wouldn’t come out.
“Miss, what are you still doing here?” The middle-aged man whose dog was always barking on your floor approached you with his pet. “We need to leave! Who knows where the fire has spread already!”
“But Jae-”
But the man just grabbed you by your hand and dragged you along the corridor, his strength too overpowering for you to resist. Even with your head turned and your eyes fixated on Jaehyun’s door, you couldn’t spot him coming out.
Inwardly, you just prayed that he perhaps had reacted fast and left already, but as all the residents slowly gathered in the front yard one by one, you couldn’t recognize Jaehyun among the people storming out of the lobby.
You didn’t know why you cared about that brute, just enough to look out for him.
Perhaps, your job as a teacher had made you sensitive to your surroundings and responsible for the people around you regardless of age and behaviour. You wanted everyone around you to be safe and sound, and that didn’t apply to children only.
“Where are you?” you muttered more to yourself as you got on your bare tiptoes and looked over the crowd as the last people were leaving the building, still no sign of Jaehyun.
“Looking for someone?”
“Oh my-!” you called out and stumbled backwards against the person that had just addressed you.
When you turned around, Jaehyun was standing in front of you, fully dressed in checkered pajama bottoms and a black t-shirt, his blond hair reflecting the light from the street lamp. So he had really made it out without you noticing, even after getting dressed. God knew how this had been even possible.
“Mrs. Choi,” you dodged the topic quickly. “I haven’t seen her yet.”
Jaehyun pointed at someone only two meters away from you, an elderly lady from the same floor. “There she is.”
“Ah, I see. Thank god.”
You buried your hands deep into the pockets of your pajama pants and stepped from one foot on another to warm them up a bit. You indeed had left your slippers behind in a hurry and had only noticed when it was already too late, so your toes were now cold and your soles dirty.
“Here.” Jaehyun slid out of his slippers and then stood next to you with naked feet. “Take them.”
“I don’t need them.”
“Look, your toes are slowly turning blue, and even if it’s still warm during the day, at night it’s already chilly since we almost have October already. So take them.”
You crossed your arms to warm yourself up a little more and, with much hesitation though, slid your feet into Jaehyun’s slippers. They were way too big and didn’t protect your feet from the cool breeze, but at least you didn’t need to stand on the cold and dirty asphalt anymore.
“Thank you,” you said.
Jaehyun raised his head up to the building complex. “It doesn’t seem like there is a huge fire anywhere, otherwise there would be fumes coming out of an apartment already.”
Red and blue light caught your both’s attention that was coming from the firetruck currently pulling up into the lane. Different firefighters got ready and stormed into the building in full attire, but Jaehyun was right. You couldn’t detect a fire either.
“Maybe it was only a small one and they managed to put it out already. Or someone was illegally smoking inside the apartment and the detector still picked up the fumes.”
“Whoever that was, they robbed me of a night’s fun.”
You rolled your eyes. “Well, isn’t that unfortunate? If they hadn’t done that, then I would have come for you myself, because I have an important interview tomorrow. But unfortunately, this situation is worse. God knows when we can return to our homes.”
“What interview? Tomorrow is Sunday.”
“For my promotion, it’s in the headquarters. I want to be a homeroom teacher, and in my kindergarten, there is no such thing as weekends.”
“Sounds annoying,” Jaehyun commented.
You flashed your eyes at him. “Of course, for someone who sleeps until midday and whose only aim it is to smash different women every night, this sounds annoying. But I’m a full grown adult with a real job, and if only you knew about how hard it is, you wouldn’t be so reckless with your noises at two in the morning!”
For the break of a second, you had hoped that you could possibly hold a normal conversation with Jaehyun. That he wasn’t that much of a prick, that you could explain yourself and he would understand your standpoint. But he was nothing other than your expected player, and you had had enough of them during your own time in university.
You then fled to the very front of the crowd right by the lobby without Jaehyun following you, and luckily, not much later, the firefighters declared the building safe. The alarm had been set off on the fourth floor by the partying tenant and his guests who had indeed ignored the rules and smoked inside.
You hurried inside along with the other residents, taking the stairs instead of the elevator to linger around long enough until you weighed yourself in safety from Jaehyun’s presence. 
You only returned much later to your apartment than all the others and were back in bed by 4am without having to face your next-door-neighbor again. Too late to get enough sleep still after all.
_____
“We are very pleased with your answers so far, miss.”
“Thank you so much, sir.”
You bowed in your seat, all the weight from the past days getting lifted off your shoulders. Despite the night before being a total chaos and you running on three hours of sleep only, you had made it on time to the interview and had even been able to revise everything during your commute.
Screw Jaehyun, you were great on your own.
“But there is one thing we’re concerned about,” the director said.
As you looked up, you perceived how nervously he was fidgeting in his seat as were the other board members, throwing some meaningful glances at each other. You knew it had been too easy until now. A woman in her late twenties who had only been teaching for three years overall, becoming a homeroom teacher at this prestigious kindergarten that quickly? There was always a catch.
“We’re concerned the students’ parents might not be content with our choice if we decide to put you in that position.”
“What could they be discontent about?” you asked as the director showed reluctance to continue. “I have my degrees, the experience, as well as the homeroom teacher’s and the kindergarten principal’s recommendation letters. With all respect, I am very qualified for this position, sir.”
“We are not concerned about your qualifications, miss.” He paused. “But about your living circumstances.”
You raised a brow. “My
 living circumstances?”
“You’re a young woman living alone, who’s also unmarried,” a board member then raised his voice to take the pressure off the director. For sure, they had talked about this in private before. This felt like an ambush. “This is not something that is likely to be accepted among the childrens’ parents as they put great value in traditional family arrangements. As you know, it’s one of the pillars our schools are based on: tradition.”
You scoffed inwardly, but remained expressionless on the outside. Luckily, you knew how to deal with ambushes. You had so much to say about what they viewed as traditional family arrangements, but you loved it here and didn’t want to lose the job on the spot, so you kept your lips sealed and responded as politely as possible,
“I don’t know why my living arrangements would be any parents’ concern. If I can afford a nice apartment close to the kindergarten where I spend many hours preparing everything for their children to receive the absolute best education, shouldn’t that speak for my living arrangement? I also put great value on tradition. Just because I’m not married yet, doesn’t mean I never want to or won’t get married one day. Everyone has their own timeline and this should not block my career.”
“We’re aware about that, miss. But as you might also know, the parents have a fundamental right of co-determination in our schools.”
“Because since it’s a private institution, they finance everything,” you wanted to interrupt, but kept that sentence to yourself only. Instead, you said, “I dedicate all my time and passion to cater to their children. I am one of the firsts to enter and leave the kindergarten, even working more from home. I volunteer to teach on the weekends and during semester breaks. Does this not count more than the fact that I’m an unmarried woman who’s living alone?”
You were pushing boundaries by demanding an answer, you knew that, but it was nothing very reputable board members couldn’t rationally reply to. The fact that they didn’t, only proved that you were right and they were mere cowards under the invisible whiplash of wealthy parents. Without them and their money, their schools’ reputation wouldn’t be where it was now.
“We can’t change the parents’ opinions, miss,” the director eventually spoke up, retreating into a defending mode and putting the blame entirely on the parents instead of standing up for you, an assistant he had approved of hiring two years ago. Again, such cowards. “We will forward your documents and records to them, but that means a background check as well. And, if I may be frank, I can tell that you’re going to get ruled out solely for that reason.”
“Then change it,” you interrupted him. “Change my status to engaged. This is what they want, right?”
“Miss
 we cannot counterfeit your documents.”
“They won’t be counterfeited, because it’s true,” you said with a confident voice. “I wanted to keep my private life private, at least until I get officially married. But I have no choice now to announce it before I actually wanted to. Yes, I am engaged and we’re going to get married soon.”
All the board members seemed to be taken aback by your sudden confessions. Perhaps, their reaction was genuine. Perhaps, they also knew you were lying. But what proof would they have to actually ascribe this lie to you? They threw meaningful gazes at each other again, unsure of what to make of this change in the situation. 
“Very well, miss.” The director eventually spoke up and nodded. “I will mention this in your documents and you can hand in a copy of your marriage certificate later when the papers are through.”
“But is this enough time, sir? It has to be decided within two months, the principal told me. I don’t know whether it will be enough time since the engagement is still new and we haven’t set a fixed date yet.”
“That’s true. If you want to convince the parents of your skills and background, I would recommend you to organize the school festival together with them. Volunteer for an activity in which your fiancĂ© can participate as well and show them what a great couple you are. When they’re convinced, the paperwork will only be formalities.”
You swore you saw one corner of his lip tug up, either in malicious glee or in pure relief. Did he know?
“I understand, sir.” You bowed deeply. “Thank you very much.”
“And one last thing
 You can start wearing your engagement ring from now if you don’t want to make a huge announcement. It’s more convincing.”
Oh, he knew. But he couldn’t care less as long as you didn’t get him in hot waters.
You nodded in understanding. “Yes, sir.”
On your way home, you stopped by a jeweler and picked out a nice, but cheap ring, a replica of your own dream ring, just beautiful and sparkly enough to get this lie through.
____
You had dedicated your entire life to this kindergarten, not only neglecting your family along the way, but also your friends. 
In fact you hadn’t talked or even answered your friends in months. You didn’t know what they were up to nowadays except for what they were giving away through status updates in your texting app. You scrolled through your contacts in the messenger, but sighed whenever one of the rare male names popped up. Some of them were married already, two had children.
They had all been your friends in university, but you hadn’t talked to any of them in an embarrassingly long time, so there was no one you could ask. How awkward must that be for someone to suddenly get a message about going along with a fake engagement from an old classmate they hadn’t seen in years?
“I’m so screwed!” you groaned and stretched out in your bed, throwing your phone aside. “Oh god, why!”
Perhaps, it was time to look for a new job, even though you loved the children and Shi-A kindergarten was the best reference for your CV. There was no coming back from all your lies anyway. Until now, you couldn’t quite grasp what had brought you to tell them what they wanted to hear. You should have just accepted their answer and moved on. Why did you have to be so impulsive at times, needing to get what you wanted right away?
People did separate before their wedding, that was possible, so there was a way out after all. You could stay an assistant teacher for several more years, there was nothing wrong with it. But the shame and pity you would need to deal with afterwards
 
The next moment, you sat up, your train of thoughts getting interrupted by the door bell, and the person behind the entrance was someone you hadn’t expected that day as he had never come over before.
“My shoes.”
“Huh?”
“My shoes.” A barefooted, messy blond-haired Jaehyun pointed at the shoe rack behind you. “You still have them.”
“Ah, right.” You quickly grabbed them and dropped the pair in front of his naked feet. “Here.”
But Jaehyun didn’t slip in right away. Instead, he questioned, “How did it go?”
You tilted your head in confusion. “Did what go?”
“The interview.”
You growled and your tongue loosened over the newly awakened stress, “Apparently, they don’t want a young, unmarried woman, who’s also living alone, teaching their children, so it did not go very well. It went all downhill when I said that I was going to get married soon to save my promotion. They invited my fake fiancĂ© to the kindergarten to help out at the festival so that the parents get a chance to bond with him.”
“So you’re getting married?” He sounded as perplexed as the board members. Why was it such a big deal to imagine you getting married anyway?
“No! I’m not! That’s the catch. Now I have to get a fake fiancĂ© from somewhere.”
“Hm. So you lied.”
“A bit.”
“Hm. Doesn’t sound like a bit of lying in my book.”
“I know, okay? Thanks for pointing it out.”
You didn’t know why you had told him all that. Perhaps, among the path you had chosen for yourself, you had lost all your friends and now had no one you could talk to whenever you faced a problem. He was just there, at the right moment.
“Really sucks for you.” Jaehyun shrugged and slipped into his shoes. He then turned around and disappeared back into his apartment.
You could have also talked to a wall.
____
“You never told me that you were engaged! And what an amazing ring with such a big diamond!” Your homeroom teacher jumped up and down in excitement as you two made your way to the entrance gate in the late evening at the same time as club activities ended. “I didn't even know you had a boyfriend! All this time you were keeping it a secret!”
“It has spread quite fast, hasn’t it?” you laughed out shyly.
“Totally! Is he going to help out during the school festival? My theater class still needs volunteers and your fiancĂ© can join as well.”
“Sure,” you lied. “I can’t promise anything for him though, because he’s so busy, but he’ll try.”
“Has he ever been here though?” she asked. “Have we ever seen him?”
“No, he hasn’t.”
She pursed her lips. “Then who’s that?”
“Who’s what?”
She stopped in her tracks and pointed at the entrance gate. “The dark haired man standing there who clearly doesn’t look like he’s here to pick up a child since he’s only staring at you.”
Shifting your head, you spotted your neighbor standing right by the gate. You had barely recognized him, because the light blond hair was gone and now dyed dark. No way! What was he doing here? And how was he looking?
“It’s him, isn’t it? Hello!”
“Hey!” You grabbed her arm and pulled it down. “It’s just
 he’s an introvert. Wait here, please.”
With hurried steps, you approached Jaehyun who didn’t break eye contact along the way. Surprisingly, he was dressed business casual today, in a pair of slacks and a button up. In combination with his new hair color and the strands neatly combed aside, he looked
 decently handsome. It was not like he hadn’t been attractive before, that was a thought you had always tried to push away. But now it was like a fact you couldn’t run away from any longer.
You wondered whether there was a reason. Maybe, he had a date set for later. Good for him to take the women finally out and not always straight to home. Good for him to have finally found a woman who didn’t put up with his former appearance.
“What are you doing here?” you asked him without a greeting. “This is my workplace, you can’t just appear out of nowhere!” Your gaze scanned the environment and you could tell that you two had already caught a few parents’ attention, so your expression softened. “What is it?”
“I locked myself out of my apartment,” he explained. “I kind of typed the code wrong into the system and cannot get inside anymore. So I need to open the door from the inside.”
“And how is that exactly my problem?”
“I need to crawl out of your window to get into my apartment since I’ve left it open anyway.”
You frowned. “Are you nuts? Just go to the lobby and let them call the landlord!”
“There was no one there.”
“There is always someone there!”
He heaved up his shoulders. “Maybe an emergency.”
“Then use your phone!”
“I left it in my room.”
“And that’s why you came all the way here instead of asking another neighbor?”
“I thought since I’m locked out anyway, I can just come here instead of waiting. I knew where the kindergarten was located because of an envelope that had once found its way into my mailbox by accident. And I didn’t know whether you’d return directly after finishing classes or whether you’d have a date with your imaginary fiancĂ©.” He suppressed a chuckle. “Or other imaginary friends.”
“You find that funny, right?” you chided. “But this is the job of my life. This is my life.”
“Alright.” He lifted his hands up in defense. “Can we just go home then?”
“Yeah, let me just
”
“Excuse me, you’re her fiancĂ©, right?” Your homeroom teacher had suddenly popped up next to you, apparently too excited to be kept waiting around. “I’m sorry to butt in, but I’m so happy to finally meet you, because none of us have known about you until today! She’s so secretive!”
Perhaps, because there was absolutely nothing you could tell about your boring life. And even if, Jaehyun surely was not included! You wanted to clear up this misunderstanding when suddenly, you realized that this was your only chance to go with your lie.
He was a man. 
And he was here. 
You had no other option.
There would not be another chance this easy.
You should thank the heavens that today was the day he had decided to leave his bleached hair and joggers at home.
“That’s true!” you then declared and linked arms with Jaehyun. “He came here today to pick me up since I’ve already come forward with the truth. I’m sorry that I haven’t introduced you sooner. This is Jeong Jaehyun.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Jeong!”
You pinched his arm and felt how he sucked in a rush of air. Given he knew the context, he understood. You only prayed to the heavens again that he would just go with it. The logistics of this all, you would figure out only later.
“Nice to meet you too! I’ve already heard so much about you,” Jaehyun greeted back politely.
You didn’t believe your ears. Even if you had hoped so, you hadn’t actually thought that he would play your imaginary fiancĂ© so well from the spot. 
“I already suggested that you volunteer in my theater group for the school festival, but she said you’re always so busy. Nonetheless, I still hope for you to step by every now and then, or at least come by on the day of the festival itself. That would be awesome as many of the teachers’ families and the childrens’ families are also visiting. It’s a chance to get to know each other.”
Jaehyun smiled broadly. “Of course I will help out as well, that’s a given. I’ll make time, no worries.”
“Such a polite and kind man!” Your homeroom teacher beamed at you. “Where have you been hiding him all this time?”
That was a question you were asking yourself now as well. 
____
“Nice furniture,” Jaehyun commented when you walked into your apartment. “But a bit too tacky for my taste.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion on my interior. I still don’t know why you just didn’t refer to the lobbyist who’s already back by now.” 
“Calling the landlord and setting a new code is just too much hassle and takes up too much time. This way, it’s quicker.”
You opened the window in your bedroom and dragged Jaehyun across the carpet by his arm. “Then, get out.”
“When should I be ready?” he asked instead and turned to you.
“Be ready for what?” You blinked in puzzlement.
“The theater activity.”
“There is no way I’m going to let you join me in school!” you quickly defied him. “You’re
 loud, rude and reckless! Only this one time was enough, there were enough witnesses to prove your existence.”
Jaehyun cleared his throat. “In your teacher’s words, I’m a very polite and kind man.”
“Only to authorities, apparently.”
“I can be very nice!”
“But not to me.”
“You’ve never given me a reason to be nice to you.”
You halted. “And the women you throw out every morning? You’re not nice to them either.”
“That’s a whole other story. I only throw out the rude ones, sometimes they get breakfast.”
You snorted when he grinned. “What’s differentiating me from them?” 
“They’re an obligation. You’re a choice.”
“So you’ve chosen to be mean to me?”
“No.” Jaehyun climbed on the window sill. “I’ve chosen to act according to what you’re giving me. Have you ever been nice to me at all? All you’ve ever done was hammering against my wall and ignoring me whenever our paths cross. That’s not very nice. Today, I’ve chosen to do something nice for you. Can I expect the same from you? I’m not quite sure.”
And off he went, out of the window, leaving you behind with much food for thought over what had happened since you had moved in. With slow steps, you returned to your living room, taking a seat on the couch. You stared into nothingness, pondering over Jaehyun’s words thoroughly. 
What did you know about him, actually? Not very much, if anything at all. Where you had spoken to your other neighbors almost in an instant upon moving in, you had never given Jaehyun a chance to properly introduce himself. You had quickly written him off as a player who you didn’t want to get involved with. What could you have in common anyway since he was so much younger?
But as a preschool teacher, you knew how dangerous it was to hold such prejudices towards people you didn’t know. This wasn’t your philosophy. 
So two hours later, you stood in front of Jaehyun’s door. It was past 9pm already, but you had to do the deeds today, otherwise you were afraid that all courage would leave your body by the end of the day.
“What is it?!” Jaehyun barked, then stopped. “Oh, it’s you.”
You held out the plate in front of him, still not having gotten used to the dark hair. “Here.”
He raised his brows, looking at a simple chocolate cake. “What’s this?”
“A peace offer.”
You didn’t dare to look him in the face, but his hand finally moved and clasped around the plate, touching yours in the process. With a slight smile on his face that you encountered when you lifted your head, Jaehyun took the cake.
“Peace offer accepted. So, when’s the start?” 
You inhaled deeply. “Wednesday.”
“I’ll be there.”
“But why?” you still wanted to know. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I think there might be something you can give me in return.”
Of course, there was always a catch. “And what would that be?”
Jaehyun made a meaningful pause. “Tutoring lessons.”
You nearly laughed out loud. “I teach kindergarteners, not university students. I mean, yes I studied with the focus on elementary school, but higher education is not my forte.”
“Isn’t it the same? Teaching people, who don’t know stuff, stuff they must know?”
“I don’t even know your major, your courses! How am I supposed to help you?”
“I’ll send you my sheets beforehand and you can teach me to understand the essence of them.”
You stood there, totally flabbergasted as you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the situation yet. “And that’s all that you want?”
He nodded. “That’s all.”
“It’s not on par with what you offer to me.”
He shrugged. “For me, it is.”
You didn’t know why, but you quite didn’t believe him fully. Either he bore some ulterior motives or he was so bad in university that he was on the brink of failing his classes anyway. In regard to his lifestyle, you could very well imagine the latter. Why not hire a professional tutor then? What was the point of all this?
“Fine,” you then gave in. “When do we start?”
“Tomorrow right away. I’ll send you the stuff.” 
You walked out of the door, but not before shifting around to him one last time. “Your new hair color
 I like it. It suits you. Though I was used to always seeing your hair first before your face.”
“I still have to get used to it as well.”
“Why did you dye it?”
“I thought it was time for a change.” Suddenly, his gaze fell on your finger. “That’s the ring I have supposedly given you? I should know about it.”
“Princess cut, two carats. Or so it seems.” You held out your hand and looked at the piece of jewelry. “Actually, it’s my dream ring, but it’s not real, just a cheap replica. I hope nobody will notice though as they surely wear diamonds much bigger than that.”
“Women
 such an enigma. I never understood why they pay so much attention to an expensive engagement ring anyway. Triple the amount of the man’s salary it should be, no?”
“First, that kind of scale is already dated. Second, I share your opinion. But
” You were about to say something very private, but you felt safe enough to do it at that moment, “I haven't grown up being able to afford nice things myself let alone getting these kinds of things gifted. So the thought of me being so important to someone to invest in valuable jewelry for me means very much.”
“I see.”
He nodded acknowledgement and let you leave.
____
According to his papers, Jaehyun was studying business management. 
You didn’t know much about the subject, but the papers were quite clear with what they wanted their students to grasp, and as it was indeed your job to teach even preschoolers exactly how to study the material, you didn’t see a reason as to why it would be different with your grown up neighbor.
Of course, upon entering his apartment for the first time, you had also scanned the entire space that was exactly like yours in the layout, only mirrored. Against your expectations, he was furnished and equipped quite comfortably and modernly, not too spartanic as you had expected from a young man his age. The door to his bedroom was closed though. Too bad, you were curious about that one the most.
“That’s quite a delicious cake!” Jaehyun praised as he sat down next to you at the table, the plate with the slice in front of him. “You’re a good baker, I have to admit.”
“Having to participate in many kindergarten events, you’ll get the hang of it eventually.”
“Say.” Jaehyun put his fork back on the plate and leaned in to you. “Why do you love this job so much? Aren’t you annoyed by the children? The parents? The other teachers? Having people around you all day long?”
You flipped through his papers, marking the passages you deemed worth memorizing. “Of course it gets stressful and annoying when, for example, children won’t listen, when you can’t meet the parents expectations or when the teachers put so much pressure on you. But
” A smile spread across your face that Jaehyun still encountered even though you had kept your head low. “... the reward, when they all succeed in the end, is all worth it.”
“Hm.” He kept staring at you, and his unwavering gaze made you flush a little. “Sounds legit for someone like you who loves her job so much, she’s willing to put up with a fake engagement.”
“I’ve worked really hard to get to where I am now,” you explained to him with a calm voice. “I don’t want to throw everything away because I’m an unmarried woman.”
“What’s so bad about being an unmarried woman?”
You hadn’t expected such a question. “Nothing, honestly. It just doesn’t meet their norm.”
“And when it’s all done
 What will you tell them? That your fiancĂ© left you at the altar? That you broke off your engagement?”
“By then, if you play along, I will have the job already. And yes, then I will then tell them exactly that. That we’ve broken up.”
“I see.” Jaehyun leaned back, giving you room to breathe again. “Well, if you think so.”
“Can we start with your studies now?” you asked. “We’re not only here for you to question me.”
“Of course.” Jaehyun took the fork in his hand again and broke a piece off the cake that he then led to his mouth. “Go on, what should I know?”
In the two hours you were teaching your neighbor, you came to the conclusion that there was no difference between being his teacher or one to your kindergarteners. Even though Jaehyun was a university student, you could maintain your teaching methods despite having a different subject at the base.
“I’m done!” Jaehyun raised his arms and stretched himself. “Finally!”
You closed the books and jumped out of your seat. “It’s almost 11pm already! I need to go, catching up on some sleep.”
“Ah yeah, my visitor will also be here soon, so you better hurry.”
You rolled your eyes at him. “Can you please stay a bit calmer tonight for me to sleep in peace?”
He winked jokingly. “As I said, you can always join. But today, I will, as a thank you for your tutoring lesson.”
He didn’t keep his promise.
____
“Miss, how do I look?” A little boy from the parallel group appeared next to you, dressed as an apple tree. His expression radiated insecurity, but you remembered very well how pumped he had been about finally landing a role in the play. “The others are all laughing at me.”
You crouched down and took the boy’s tiny hands into yours. It was Wednesday, so this was another evening dedicated to the preparations for the festival. His costume consisted of brown pants and a green shirt. He also wore a headgear that framed his face from which apples made of polystyrene were hanging. 
“You look amazing! Don’t listen to others. Your role is very much important. And you know why the apple tree is so important in the play?” He shook his head and you squeezed his tiny fingers in encouragement. “Because you’re the only apple tree. Without you, we wouldn’t even be able to perform. So regardless of what the others say, remember that you’re one of a kind, that you’re unique and very important. Okay?”
Now, a bright smile spread across his face. “Okay!”
You arose from your crouching position and turned around to let your eyes scan the hall. Then, you spotted your neighbor for whom you had waited already. And he was not alone.
With fast steps, you descended from the stage and nervously approached Jaehyun who was currently having a seemingly nice chat with a parent. And not any parent as a matter of fact. In front of him stood Shi-A schools’ main investor, and you hadn’t prepared him for that kind of situation! 
You had aged Jaehyun up to one year your senior and had also come up with a background story both of you agreed on was believable enough. Of course Jaehyun couldn’t be a student in front of these successful parents who were all directors, doctors and builders. You had first suggested for him to be a lawyer, but, in his words, Jaehyun didn’t want to be “such a stuck up suit-wearer”.
“Ah, miss, there you are!” Mr. Nam, Soah’s father and the owner of several bank branches across the country, welcomed you as you joined their chat and came to a halt next to Jaehyun. “I’m so disappointed that I haven’t gotten to meet your fiancĂ© much sooner! Such a charming and smart man!”
You looked at Jaehyun who had dressed up in suit trousers and a white button up again, his hair neatly slicked back with only one strand falling into his face. His entire presence radiated a successful businessman, inferior to no one. You were quite impressed, he looked very much believable. And insanely handsome.
“Mr. Nam, it’s so good to see you! Yes, my fiancĂ© is usually really busy, so I’m glad he was able to make time today to help out with the preparations for the festival,” you explained. 
“Of course.” Mr. Nam nodded. “I was only able to come today, because I canceled a meeting to see my precious Soah. I know what it’s like to run a business and having to miss important school events, so I talked about that with your fiancĂ©. I didn’t know he was a COO!”
You tried to hide your surprise and forced a smile. Jaehyun had chosen to be involved in running a business according to his major, the age old enough to be COO, but not CEO yet. You just hoped he knew what he was talking about with the professionals, being so close to graduation.
“You know, honey,” Jaehyun addressed you, and it made your skin crawl how he used this pet name for lovers, “Mr. Nam invited us to his getaway in the countryside in two weeks.”
The middle-aged man nodded. “Mr. Jeong and I have instantly bonded over our occupations and our weekend getaway will help him form connections. Several friends of mine as well as parents of this school and other business partners will be present too. Your fiancĂ© is still fairly young and new to the business as a COO, but I’m always pleased to show the next generation their way. It will be a great chance for you both.”
You couldn’t believe what you had just heard. Two years of working at this school and no parent had ever invited you anywhere. But it had taken Jaehyun literally five minutes only to get invited on a weekend getaway with the main investor! 
This was such a big chance for you to strengthen the bond with the most influential parents and investors, and show them that you were indeed capable of doing this job right - with and certainly without a man. 
“Of course we will join, Mr. Nam!” You bowed to him. “We’re very grateful to have received this invitation.”
Mr. Nam went on with his duty of helping his daughter and Jaehyun followed you to the stage. 
“You know that it’s not going to be easy during that weekend, right?” 
“Yes, but I need this weekend. If they see that I fit in, they will acknowledge me as a capable teacher, even without a marriage certificate. This will be the best opportunity to win their favor and then play the broken hearted teacher who they will all sympathize with after my breakup. Only Mr. and Mrs. Nam’s approval is enough, and every other parent will do as they say, that’s how powerful they are.”
“And what does being a capable teacher have anything to do with you being married or not?” he genuinely wanted to know. “You said there was nothing wrong with you being an unmarried woman living alone.”
You stopped in your tracks and smiled crookedly. “Apparently, they pay much attention to tradition, I told you already. And an unmarried woman living alone does not live up to their expectations since they’re very conservative. But I’m sure I can prove to them-”
“This is bullshit and you know it,” Jaehyun interrupted you dryly. “If I were a parent, I would favor an unmarried woman, who is a great person herself, to teach my children rather than someone trapped in a loveless marriage, who passes on her misery to her students.”
“You’re not wrong, but what can I do? It is how it is.” You shrugged. “Are you saying you’re not with me in this now?”
“Of course I still am if you also still want it. But as I said, it’s not going to be easy.”
“Why? It’s going smooth now as well.”
Jaehyun cleared his throat. “Well
 we truly have to act like a couple, you know, since it’s a private setting. With all the pet names, skinship and stuff, honey.”
Again, you cringed. “Shut up, Jaehyun, it’s not that deep.”
He laughed. “If you say so
”
You two approached the stage, stepped on the platform and immediately had a group of boys run towards you. 
“Mister, you’re so tall,” one of them said to Jaehyun. “Can you help us hang these lights up please?”
“Of course!” Jaehyun agreed with genuine joy. “Where do you need them?”
“Over there, please!”
He rolled his white sleeves up his elbows in preparation. With much caution, Jaehyun took the string of lights they had been holding out to him into his own hands and attached them shortly over his head to the background of the stage.
“You wanna do this yourselves?” he then asked the boys as they came over to him with another chain of colorful lights.
“But we’re too short!”
“Not anymore now!” Jaehyun got on his knees and lifted one of the boys up in the air. “You’re tall enough now?”
The boy giggled and pumped his fist. “A bit higher, mister, please!”
“Alright!”
Jaehyun laughed along with them and stretched out his arms until the boy could reach the marked spots in the background. The child was effortlessly able to attach the lights onto where they belonged before Jaehyun set him back on the floor.
“Thank you, mister!”
You watched the scene with a smile, unknowingly. The fact that Jaehyun was this good with children had been a secret to you too, until now.
Perhaps, he wasn’t always your prick of a neighbor and there was much more to him than his nocturnal activities. Somehow, this piqued your interest and you wanted to get to know more about him in all sincerity.
____
“So, you got the gist of it, right?”
Jaehyun nodded. “Enough for me to not flunk the exam this time again.”
“Alright.” You snapped the book shut and stretched yourself. “I’ll get going now then.”
“Are you hungry?” Jaehyun asked instead when you made a move to raise from the chair. “It’s past 9 already and I’m hella hungry.”
“Well
 I haven’t eaten anything since lunch and just wanted to go to the convenience store to grab a quick bite.”
“I’ll prepare dinner.”
It was a subtle invitation, and although he didn’t speak it out, he wanted you to stay for a reason you didn’t quite understand yet. Reluctant at first, you wiggled in your seat, unsure of what to do. But Jaehyun didn’t leave you much room for decision as he already opened the refrigerator and took out a sealed pack of chicken.
“Should I help you?” you asked and jumped up, eager to put this awkwardness behind you.
“Yeah, you can cut the vegetables. They’re in the fridge, I just put them in there just in case, so they’re not frozen yet.”
“Okay.”
When you opened the fridge, you spotted the cake you had given to him, only halfway eaten and frozen. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, and surely not openly, but it kind of hurt you. Yet, you couldn’t bite down a snarky remark.
“You could have just told me the truth instead of lying
 that it doesn’t taste good.” 
Jaehyun looked up from the chicken he was currently washing, his brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Your disappointment broke through your facade eventually. “The cake. It’s still there.”
With careful deliberation, Jaehyun put the meat on a cutting board and took out a knife. “Because I don’t want to share it.”
“What?”
“I can’t eat too much sugar at once. So one, at the most two, slices of cake a day does suffice. I used to grind my teeth in my sleep, so they’re very sensitive now and hurt when I eat too many sweets at once.”
“Oh, it’s like that.” You paused. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware of this problem
” Again, it dawned on you that you knew absolutely nothing about Jaehyun. If you had known he wasn’t able to eat an entire cake within a few days, then you would have brought something else. “But you’ve had enough visitors over the past couple of days to share it with them, you don’t have to trudge through eating it to the last bites, you know.”
“But I want to!” he then defended himself and turned around to you. “I want to eat it all by myself, I don’t want to share it with anyone else what you’ve made only for me.”
This was not a joke, nor a mocking comment. He meant it in all honesty. You just had no idea why. 
“Okay.” You closed the door to the fridge with the vegetables in your hand now. “I’ll help you cut the ingredients. But we should probably hurry before your visitor comes, right?”
You didn’t want to sound mean by mentioning this topic, but the syllables fell from your lips much sharper than you had intended. It was none of your business anyway, but as you took the leek into your hands, you realized that you couldn’t help but to be curious about his lifestyle.
He shrugged. “It’s still a few hours, we’ll be fine.”
“But every night a different woman? Why don’t you get a girlfriend? Don’t misunderstand me, I just genuinely want to know.”
Jaehyun didn’t even bother thinking about coming up with a morally right answer. “I did have a girlfriend.”
“And?”
“It sucked.”
“Then you just didn’t have the right girlfriend for you.”
“We were together for three years,” he clarified and proceeded to cut the chicken while you did the same with the leek.
“Did she cheat on you?” 
“No. She stole all my money, lied about it and disappeared from my life from one day to another.”
“Holy-” You swallowed the rest of the sentence, your cutting hand now pausing too.
“My parents weren’t very fond of her from the beginning and told me to cut ties with her as she wasn’t the ideal daughter-in-law for them anyway. But I was a rebel and wanted to date whoever I wanted just because I could. She only used me as a money machine, and everyone knew - except for me as I was in denial. The me back then was so blind and so in love. I did everything for her, and in the end, I was left alone, robbed of my money and unfavored by my parents.”
You didn’t know what to say as you hadn’t expected such an honest conversation with him. The tough and cool Jaehyun had been through some miserable phases indeed, and you somehow regretted not having asked about it much earlier. 
“Jaehy-”
“It’s okay.” He brushed it off and put the sliced chicken in the pan. “Not all women are bad, I just need to pick better. Next time, I need to be a hundred percent sure she’ll be my future wife.”
“It’s odd hearing these words from a university student.”
“Why?”
“Nowadays, from my own dating experience, I can say that marriage or children are not one of the top priorities for many people wanting to enter a relationship anymore. They struggle a lot with these nowadays for so many reasons, most of which are valid, like money and economics. So I’m positively surprised to hear you’re not one of them and actually want to marry out of love.”
“Do you want to marry one day?”
This question took you aback. “Yes, for the same reason as you, actually.”
“Mhhmm. And do you believe there is someone out there for you?”
“Yes, I honestly believe it. When there is you and me already, here in this very room, then there are also more people with the same mindset out there in the world. I’m sure, there are many women who have so much genuine love to give to a man like you, even when you’re still so young.”
“A man like me?” You now made eye contact. “What do you mean a man like me?”
You averted your eyes again as you started to list while finishing cutting the leek, “You’re caring, because when we were standing outside on the night of the fire alarm, you noticed that my feet were freezing. You gave me your shoes to wear even when that meant you needed to freeze yourself. And I was so mean to you that night. You’re helpful, because you come to every single festival preparation date and support everyone wherever they need a helping hand, kids and adults equally. And not a single complaint comes out of your mouth. You’re intelligent, because even if you need my help to understand a subject, you’re quick to solve every answer in your very own way. On top of that, you volunteered to play the part of my fake financĂ©. And to this day, I still don’t know why.”
Jaehyun was about to turn on the stove, but then stalled, looking at you partially confused, partially what you somewhat interpreted as
 touched? His features then softened and he was moved by your words, you clearly saw it in his eyes.  
“Look at you, Miss Neighbor. Not knowing what you’re blabbering again.”
You cracked a smile and put the leek in the pan with the chicken. “It’s just the truth.”
“I help you out, because you’re a good person who is being treated unfairly. Is that so hard to believe?”
After how you had acted in his presence before all this? It was very hard to believe. 
“So you think it’s better if I stay in my old position and choose the conventional, non-scheming way?”
“I’ve seen you around the children. I think you’re too good of a teacher to waste your potential on insufferable parents who are too stuck up to question their own values.”
After this short time only, he had seen through this all, and was holding such a high opinion of you?
As you continued preparing dinner right here in room 803, of which you had never imagined setting a foot in, you came to the truthful realization that your neighbor was not resentful towards your behavior from the beginning anymore. 
Then, you started to forgive yourself as well. 
This dinner had been an invitation to do exactly that, and you were grateful for it.
____
“My, my
 hello, miss!”
You turned around and encountered Mrs. Nam, Soah’s mother, approaching in your direction. Another Wednesday meant another preparation and practice evening for the kindergarten festival that was set to take place this weekend.
“Hello, Mrs. Nam.” You bowed deeply. “What brings you here?” 
“I heard my husband talk about your fiancĂ© so fondly last time, I wanted to meet him personally since you’re going to accompany us to the getaway next weekend, right?”
“Yes, we feel so honored. What a pleasure!”
A lie. You hated this woman to the core. She didn’t care much about Soah, but more about her reputation and appearance. Yet, she was the main investor’s wife and thus one of the people you had to convince of your capability to be her daughter’s homeroom teacher.
“I'm going to introduce myself,” she declared and strutted away.
Jaehyun was currently sitting in a circle with several kids, helping them prepare their costumes with a glue gun. The kids were talking excitedly to him, interacting with him and laughing along with him. The scene warmed your heart and you smiled the longer you observed them. Jaehyun was so popular and got along so well with them. 
“Miss!” Little Soah stood in front of you. “Look what Mr. Jeong made for me!” She raised her arms and presented a golden crown to you, adorned with pink plastic jewels. “He helped me glue the jewels on. Now I’m a true princess, right?”
You smiled and patted her back. “Yes, you truly are! Here, let me help you put it on.” You got on your knees and settled the crown on her head. “All good now.”
“Miss, when you’ve married Mr. Jeong, are you Mrs. Jeong then? Should we then address you as such?”
“I guess so,” you laughed. 
You weren’t worried about the rest, because you were going to break this fake engagement off anyway. But somehow, her question had caused a lump to build in your throat that you weren’t able to swallow down. 
“Then I’m happy,” Soah beamed through her missing front teeth, “because I like him very much!”
With jumpy steps, she hopped away in her crown as your own expression fell. That was something you hadn’t thought about before. The fact that the kids could get attached to Jaehyun. Or the other way around. Eventually, you would need to break their world apart and rob them of a person they had gotten emotionally attached to. But that was life, wasn’t it?
“Everything alright?” You got stunned as Jaehyun suddenly appeared next to you. “You’ve been standing like this, totally motionless, for a solid minute.”
You nodded. “Have you talked to Soah’s mother?”
“Yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “A very annoying woman.”
“Right?!” you whispered to him with a giggle, relieved he shared your opinion. 
“And she totally has the hots for me,” Jaehyun mentioned almost nonchalantly as he made his way to the stage.
“Wha-” You quickly fell into his step. “What are you saying?!”
“That she wants to rip off my clothes and take me right here and now. That she wants me to bend her over one of these small tables and make her scream in pleasure. That she-”
“Okay, okay, I get it!” you stopped him and feigned choking noises. “She favors you. It’s nothing surprising, honestly. She apparently has a weak spot for younger men and even teachers here. It’s an open secret she stays married to Mr. Nam for the sake of their business, and it’s also an open secret that some men here, teachers and parents equally, have fallen for her charms already.”
Jaehyun grinned. “Charms
 Exactly.”
At the same moment, you lifted your finger. “Don’t you dare! I swear, Jaehyun, you’re involved here to help me with my promotion, not cause havoc. Stay as far away from my childrens’ parents as possible!”
Jaehyun stopped in his tracks, lifting his hands in defense. “I know, I know. I get it. Don’t worry! She’s annoying and not my type either way.”
“Because she’s much older than you, hm?” 
Somehow, this assumption put you at ease, but not fully. Because, in the end, you were five years older than Jaehyun as well. You weren’t quite able to wrap your head around the reason as to why this even bothered you in the first place. 
“No,” he denied. “I don’t mind age. Neither do I mind education or status, despite my parents saying so. I embrace smartness, wittiness and the gift to enrich my life.”
“And the girls you bring home are none of that?” It was supposed to be a tease, but your curiosity for an answer dominated the entire question. 
He laughed, scarcely and briefly. “Hell, no!”
“I see.” This was a response you could live with very well, along with the statement that he didn’t mind an age gap. 
“But this Mrs. Nam
” Jaehyun lowered his voice. “She’s neither of those qualities that I’m looking for. She’s only a shell with no personality who’s been living in her husband’s shadow and seeks quick affairs for validation.”
You were quite flabbergasted, because his judgment seemed totally on point. “Well, you nailed it.”
He smiled smugly. “You said I’m smart after all.”
You playfully slapped his arm. “This again?” 
“Nevertheless,” Jaehyun continued, “you’re all that, Miss Neighbor.”
You frowned. “All what?”
“Smart. Witty. And an enrichment to my life.”
With these words, he jumped on the stage where the children already came running towards him.
And you were left behind with hot ears and a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a very long time.
____
As you had expected, the school festival turned out to be a success, and with as many parents attending as possible, you had been able to introduce Jaehyun as your fiancé to everyone who was interested in finding out who that young man was, supporting and playing with their children.
It had warmed your heart, seeing how they all got along so well with Jaehyun that, the further the day had progressed, the warmth had turned into a stingy ache. The sheer fear that probably, you would never find someone like him again to replace the hole that he would most certainly leave when you had to call this entire thing off.
After all, this was only a pretense. 
Wasn’t it?
____
The weekend after the festival, you drove all the way out to the countryside to spend two days in the Nam family’s second residence. Jaehyun had apparently rented a car and he was a naturally good driver, you had to admit. 
The family’s holiday home consisted of three big houses in different sizes that were all connected to each other and formed a huge residence, surrounded by many acres of nature. There was a tennis court, a pool, a festive terrace, and even a few horses grazing in the fields. The residence overall looked both spectacular and intimidating to you, who had never set foot into such a habitation ever before.
“This is your room,” the housekeeper announced to you and Jaehyun when she opened the door.
You swallowed, hard. This was a fact that had totally passed by you. The room where you were supposed to spend the night only had one bed. No couch, no canopy, nothing else to lie down on except for this one bed. 
“Thank you very much,” Jaehyun said gratefully, not having lost a single ounce of his composure in comparison to you who was still too stunned to speak. 
He led you into the room and closed the door behind him, dropping your two bags on the floor. It was a nice room that, apart from the queen size bed, had a balcony and huge windows where the sunlight was able to stream in. 
“You brought your tennis clothes, right?” Jaehyun asked, and at that moment, you were quite relieved he hadn’t encountered your sleeping arrangement problems yet or chose to purposefully ignore it. Either of it was fine for you as for now, there was another hurdle to master before this day would end: lunch, followed by tennis with the Nams, and then dinner.
“Yes, I just haven’t expected that you would be able to play.”
He snickered. “Oh, you would be surprised about many of my skills.”
“Ew, if this means what I think it means, stop it!”
“Come on, did you always have this huge stick up your-”
You lifted one finger to silent him. “Don’t say it out loud!”
“Fine,” Jaehyun gave in and shrugged. “But try loosening up every now and then, even when you’re in teacher mode. I tell you, life is much more fun like that.”
You decided to ignore him and circled the bed that was somehow ironically the center of the entire room. You then seated yourself on one side of the bed where you dumped your bag on your lap and started unpacking. 
“I’m sleeping on this side and you on the other. You're gonna stay as far away from me as possible and we’ll build a wall of pillows. If I catch you breaking through the barrier at any point during the night, I’ll kick you.”
“I promise, I won’t touch you.” And then, he added sneakily, “Unless you say so, of course.”
Luckily, he couldn’t see your face as you arose and put your clothes in the closet. 
Your cheeks were so heated.
____
Lunch went by fast with you not having to interact with the Nams much as you had eaten at another table. But you were able to connect with a few other parents whose favor you had won very easily - mostly thanks to Jaehyun who was perfect in his role and did most of the chit chat himself. You didn’t complain, it played all too well into your cards as smalltalk wasn’t your strongest character trait anyway. 
Jaehyun nailed the late-twenties COO scheme like he was living it in reality. It was insane how well he knew about almost everyone’s work environment as though he had indeed already graduated years ago and could keep up with the other guests in regards to business talk. He seemed well-educated, eloquent and charming. He was perfect in his role.
"We’re doing well, but I feel like we could improve our international growth a bit,” one man on your table, also the parent of a child enrolled in your kindergarten, pointed out. “The European market is proving to be a bit more complex than anticipated."
"I hear you,” Jaehyun acknowledged. “Expanding into Europe can definitely be tricky. It’s a diverse market with varying regulatory environments, consumer preferences, and competitive landscapes.”
“What’s been your experience so far in terms of the challenges?” the man asked back. “Have you already tested the waters?”
You inhaled sharply. How was Jaehyun supposed to answer that? 
“Yes, we did,” he replied almost nonchalantly though and sipped at his water glass. “Is it more about local market adaptation, or are there specific operational or regulatory hurdles that are slowing things down for you? Personally, I can tell-”
It was unbelievable. But you were not complaining and just let him do his job while you shifted your attention to the women at the table. One of them was the business man’s wife who had just asked about the European market, and thus a parent of the child attending your kindergarten as well.
“I heard that you were very popular among the children, miss,” she told you with a smile that didn’t seem quite sincere. 
Perhaps you were just paranoid, but you believed that by now, working among mischievous children for years already, you were able to tell the difference. With another two women turning their attention towards you, you felt like you had been thrown right into a shark tank, and your lifeline in the form of your fake fiancé was in no sight but caught up with the European business market. 
“I heard so too, miss,” one of the other women chimed in. “Tell us, what makes you so different from other teachers? One would guess you aren’t strict enough.”
There it was, the flash of guile that nearly simultaneously was visible in all the women’s eyes for not even the blink of a second, yet it hadn’t passed by you. You weren’t determined to let these hyenas eat you up alive, you had worked too hard to come this far just to let mean girls make you give up.
“I believe I strike the perfect balance between kindness and strictness,” you explained with a calm voice, but under the table, you were nervously kneading your sweaty fingers. “Every child knows they can always come to me, be it for struggles concerning their school experience or personal ones.”
Instantly, the eyebrows of the student’s mother raised up. “Personal struggles?” she nearly squealed, but the loudness luckily got drowned out by the heated business talk of the men at the same table. 
“Does this mean you’re asking them about personal things?” the second woman pressed the topic.
Now, you furrowed yourself. What were they on? “What I mean by it is that if my students ever encounter problems of any kind that they cannot share with anyone else at that moment, my door is always open for them, and they know it.”
“For me,” the third woman intercepted, “it sounds like you’re more of a friend than a teacher.”
“Respectfully, that’s not what I said, and I apologize if I delivered the message wrongly. But-”
“Oh.” They looked at each other meaningfully and let you become quiet before the first woman picked up the conversation again. “Are you saying we are too uneducated to get the gist of your sentences?”
You were completely flabbergasted. You had already gotten to know many parents, but always in a safe environment and in the presence of other teachers where they had never acted like this in any scenario possible. Was this how the parents treated the teachers in private? Was this the environment the children grew up in and you would need to deal with on a daily basis when you got the promotion?
While you were still in your thoughts and preparing a reply in your head that didn’t consist of any curse word, you suddenly felt a warm hand wrapping around yours under the table and giving you an encouraging squeeze. 
“What my fiancĂ©e wants to say,” Jaehyun interrupted confidently, but politely, “is that with the educational environment given nowadays, teachers are trained to be strict and rule with an iron fist. They are pressured to push their students towards the top regardless of their feelings and needs. Thus, the children feel pressured themselves and rarely have no authority person they can turn to.” You halted your breath, and the women apparently did as well as they looked at Jaehyun with shock over his provoking words. He was harshly criticizing the entire education system for which, to a huge part, the parents were responsible for as well. “Under these circumstances, they really appreciate a teacher like my fiancĂ©e, who does not only make sure that every child reaches its full potential at this young age, but she also gives them the feeling that not all teachers only care for their success, but also for their personal wellbeing. And if this is not a trait that more teachers need to have nowadays, then I don’t know what is. I think your children are very lucky to have a teacher with a strong message like my fiancĂ©e.”
The entire table had quiet down at this point to listen to Jaehyun’s words who still had not let go of your hand. He was right, to a hundred percent, but speaking these words out among these people was like an invitation to get you fired on the spot. 
“I agree with Mr. Jeong,” a female voice behind you then said, and as you shifted around, you spotted Mr. and Mrs. Nam standing right behind you. “His fiancĂ©e teaches my daughter Soah and not only does she get the best grades, but she’s also very happy with her teacher. I think we need more teachers like her.”
This was a support you had never expected of ever receiving. From them? And then, the men at your table, followed by the women, agreed with the Nams vocally. Was it really that easy, would they go with everything this married couple wanted just to stay in this circle? It was an interesting observation. 
But then, your gaze fell upon Mrs. Nam who stared at Jaehyun, and then everything fell into place. 
Well, if it helped with your promotion, then you would let her look at him as long as she wanted. 
As long as he only looked at you and held only your hand, just like now.
____
“Ouch.”
“I thought you were able to play tennis?” Jaehyun asked as he carried you up the stairs in a piggy-back. “I didn't expect you to trip and fall all within the first fifteen minutes.”
Even though you weren’t able to see his expression, you felt that he had to clearly suppress a laugh right now. “Be quiet, I don’t want to hear anything about it.”
“Ah, did someone maybe sugarcoat their skills a bit too much? To your luck, the Nams were just as shocked and cared more about your wellbeing than your lack of skills, so all’s good. I believe they found it rather endearing.”
You grumbled and lowered your head, resting it on his shoulder. Jaehyun had regularly only worn loungewear, so you had never quite made out the shape of his body. Or you had never been particularly interested in it. But now that you were being carried on his back, you couldn’t help but feel his strong muscles tense beneath your body, lifting you like you weighed nothing for him. 
It was true. You had only taken three tennis lessons and had then dropped it for the lack of time and motivation. But since this had been not too long ago, you had thought the experience would suffice. You had been so, so wrong though. Mr. and Mrs. Nam were immaculate and Jaehyun didn’t fall short on them.
Was there something he did not master?
“Who are you even?” you asked Jaehyun when you were finally through your room’s door. He placed you on the bed where he inspected the wounds on both your knees. “Honestly, Jaehyun. It’s like you’re not only blending in, you’re really
 living this role.”
Jaehyun approached the door to leave again and get a first aid kit, but not without pivoting back to you one more time and saying with a meaningful and nearly reproachful tone, “You still haven’t cared enough to get to know me on a deeper level, right? All you wanted to know so far was about women, not me as a person. You’d wonder how easy it is to find information about my family online if only you know enough.”
And with that, he left you alone in your room with not only scraped and bleeding knees, but a heart that slowly started hurting nearly just as much.
It was true. You had been too busy with preparations for the upcoming events, pulling through your scheme and working towards a potential promotion, that you had not once put a single thought into Jaehyun as a person. You had wondered at times, but had never really made the effort.
Wasn’t that what he had preached about you earlier? That you were so open-minded, the children could always come to you? So why did you lack this skill when it came down to your personal life? That was probably also very much the reason you barely had friends left anymore. Too selfish, too focused on your career and only using people for the sake of your own benefit. Like Jaehyun.
But you didn’t want to continue with this behaviour anymore and eventually become like the parents here, so bigoted, condemning and toxic. You couldn’t let that happen to yourself.
So you did what Jaehyun had wanted you to do all this time: You just looked up his name online.

 And stared at him with your mouth agape when he returned to the room with the first aid kit. 
He stood by the door, unsure how to proceed. “So, you know.”
You threw your phone on the bed and folded your arms across your chest. “Why did you never tell me?”
“Well, did you ever ask?” His gaze was sharp, but he didn’t seem reproachful anymore as he had most likely caught on the deep regret reflected in your eyes. “All you ever did was assume based on what you’ve seen or heard in some cases. Assuming I was some lazy student with nothing in my mind except for women. There were enough hints given by me for you to look through this facade. But you never cared in the first place.”
That was true, but it was also part of your job. Children were more likely to never tell you what was going on in their lives, so you had to be really attentive as a teacher. Most of the time, you were right about their current feelings, especially the struggles, despite them not talking about it. 
This skill apparently didn’t apply to adults as you had gotten proven wrong several times today already. Adults were way smarter in hiding who they truly were, only revealing what they wanted others to see. Jaehyun was the perfect example.
“I’m sorry.” Your head dropped and you only heard how Jaehyun shifted in his position, followed by his footsteps approaching you. 
He then knelt in front of you and opened the first aid kit as he started talking, “The corporation is my parents’ business, I have nothing to do with it and don’t want anything to do with it.”
“All this time, I thought it was just a company that you’ve made up yourself when you talked to the businessmen during lunch.”
“Of course my position was made up, and it won’t take them too long to find out that a certain Mr. Jeong, who coincidentally holds the same last name as its CEO, is indeed not a COO, but an entirely different man.” He took out some disinfectant that he then sprayed on your hurt knees. You inhaled sharply and under much pain, but were determined not to make a sound. “I’ve grown up in this business environment, so naturally I’m very conversational in this matter if you had wondered about that. I just know a lot of business chit chat to make them keep talking, nothing that needs too much deep dive into a topic. I also took tennis classes when I was younger and the car we came here with? That’s also mine.”
You gulped. You had not even asked about the car at all. All that you had been doing was assuming and assuming and assuming. You had pegged him as a lousy student from the very beginning, and not once had it crossed your mind to ask him about anything. 
All you ever had to do was ask, and he would have replied in all honesty - just like now.
“You said you wanted nothing to do with your parents’ business,” you repeated his words when he gently patted your knees with a clean cloth. “Why?”
“Currently, I’m still under my parents’ guard and sadly also financially bound to them. I didn’t have another choice after what happened with my ex, even though I really despise my current situation. I was lucky enough that they didn’t cut off my financial support altogether, otherwise I couldn’t study at all. But at least I can live alone and thus can taste a bit of freedom and independence. They expect me to join their business after my graduation, even though I refused so many times already.”
“What do you want to do then?” You were genuinely curious now. “If not joining their business?”
“Start my own business.” He then pulled out a long string of band aid and cut respective pieces from it, two in the sizes of your injuries. “I was able to enroll in this top university with a promise to my parents that I will join them after my graduation. Hell will break loose when I come forward with the truth though, but I will pay it all back to them. That is why I’m now saving up as much money as possible to be independent after my studies. There are so many varieties of fields business management is useful for.”
Gently, Jaehyun put a bandaid on your injury, one on each side. His touch was so tender, almost feathery-light, and you shuddered comfortably. “What kind of business do you have in mind?”
Jaehyun shrugged. “I don’t know yet, but I will eventually find out. After my graduation, I want to travel around first and go to Europe, see a little bit of the world. And then it will all fall into place, I’m positive about that. If anything, I don’t want to be dependent on my parents anymore and follow in their footsteps. I want to be my own person, I need to be.”
“The bleached hair
 the women
 when you only hung around in joggers
 Was that some kind of rebellion?” A glimpse into a life he had never been fully able to live out under his parents’ guard. A bit of fun.
“Let’s say I got raised very strictly by my parents, just like the children in your kindergarten, so I can very much relate.” That was why he could grasp exactly how the parents and children felt. He had grown up in this exact environment. It all made sense now. “My mother nearly fell off the chair when she saw that I’ve bleached my hair and wanted to send me to a hairdresser right away. My father stopped bothering me about joining business meetings. It worked all to my favor. It’s not that I’m not grateful that they still help me out, they just haven’t learned to respect my own wishes. Maybe one day, when I’m successful too, they’ll eventually understand.”
“So, why did you agree on doing this with me then?” you wanted to know when Jaehyun put the utensils back in the kit. “Just to practice your skills for the future? For the connection? Because I don’t believe you need that much tutoring after hearing all this. Or was it solely for fun?”
“Perhaps,” he interrupted hesitantly, “I just wanted to help my Miss Neighbor when she needed someone without asking for anything in return, because nobody ever helped me. Is that too far off when I need to answer this question again? Does it not fit your narrative?”
Nobody ever helped him? Ouch.
So people could really be selfless. People like Jaehyun.
Even though you were older, you were still able to learn so much from him.
“You don’t fit my narrative at all,” you reluctantly confessed. “But I am willing to change it.”
He lifted his head to face you and smiled in agreement. “There you go, all good now.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you too.”
“So, Europe,” you picked up the topic again, swung your legs onto the bed and leaned back into the pillows. “Which countries excite you the most?”
That afternoon, you learned that Jaehyun had never been outside of the country, which really shocked you considering how wealthy his family was. But you also learned that, as the only son of successful business people, there had never been more to his world than his parents’ own little world. They had offered to send him abroad to study, but he had declined as he had never been on his own and got cold feet. Something he deeply regretted now.
You realized that Jaehyun had been living under the pressure and expectations of his strict parents all along and was only now slowly discovering the world. The fact that he fully went out in university, additionally with another woman by his side almost every night, was a response to his upbringing. You had studied this in your major.
It was the mere acts of a boy who had only discovered freedom, as he should.
“Living on my own was already a huge step towards independence. I can’t wait to see more of the world,” he elaborated, sitting on your bedside now. “Have you already been somewhere out of the country?”
“Japan and Vietnam, yes,” you replied and yawned. “But that was a long time ago, even before I studied.”
“You’ve never been to Europe either?” You shook your head. “Then you should consider coming with me.”
“I’ll probably be a teacher soon, Jaehyun. Even now, I hardly get any time off, so sadly, I won’t be able to do that. But it’s nice to dream about it. Maybe in the future it will be possible.”
“Hm.” He arose from the mattress and suggested, “You seem tired, how about you take a short nap until dinner? I’ll wake you up then.”
“Oh, that would be nice.” You yawned again. “But what are you going to do until then?”
“Making sure you'll get that job you really want.”
He was fascinating you more and more with each bypassing day.
____
During dinner, you were seated at the Nams’ table, exactly at the opposite of the married couple. You didn’t miss the fact that Mrs. Nam seemed to be in really high spirits, and she and her husband had asked about your wellbeing more than once.
“Tell us, Mr. Jeong, how did you meet your fiancĂ©e?” Mr. Nam eventually wanted to know from Jaehyun. 
You had prepared yourselves for this, you had made up an entire story about your first meeting with all the details someone could be curious about, and the rest you would just improvise. Jaehyun was supposed to say that you had met in university since you had both aged him up to fit the storyline.
“We first met when she moved into the apartment next to mine.”
Thank god you were already done with the main course, because you were sure you would have choked on your grilled beef they had served earlier.
“It was early in the morning, just a few days after she moved in. She was in a rush and I had just come back from an all nighter at the library. It was exam time and I suppose she was also in a hurry because of these circumstances.”
At least Jaehyun stayed true to the fake story by making you both university students. But what was he up to, why didn’t he follow your plan in all details? 
You desperately tried to lock eyes with him to give him some kind of signal to stop this, but he ignored you on purpose and just smiled at the guests while telling the story. Though he reached his hand out to your lap, searched for your fingers and embraced them as though in reassurance. Reassurance about what when he was not acting according to the plan at all?
“I was in the lobby, about to get on the elevator when the doors opened and a young woman stormed out of it. She had her bag in one hand, books and her jacket in the other, as well as a cup of coffee balancing on her fingers. She unsuccessfully tried to close the lid with the hand that was holding her bag.”
Wait
 
This was not a made up story. You vaguely remembered being in such a situation shortly after you had moved in. Instead of running late to university, you were running late to work, because you had calculated the commute time wrongly from this part of the city, even though it was closer to the kindergarten. You had successfully wiped this memory out of your mind, for the reason of

“She was so caught up with her stuff that she didn’t see me and just stormed out of the elevator as soon as the door opened,” Jaehyun continued and earned a few giggles from the listeners. “She bumped right into me and the next moment, I had her coffee all over my shirt.”

 for this exact reason. It was too embarrassing to be kept as a memory. And the guy from that fateful having turned out to be Jaehyun himself was the cherry on top. Why had he never said a word about this incident?
Your embarrassment visibly showed on your cheeks as their color changed, gaining you a few amiable gazes from the guests. 
“She barely looked up as she apologized and tried to drop all her things to clean up the mess.”
“But I didn’t,” you remembered, speaking out loudly, “because you said I should hurry up and go to wherever I needed to go right now, and then cleaned everything up yourself.”
“Exactly,” Jaehyun laughed and a few joined. “You apologized three times and ran out, and I cleaned up the mess with the help of the lobbyist. I knew someone in such a haste had to be somewhere important early in the morning, and I didn’t want to be a hindrance to that, even though I didn’t know you yet.”
A few women at the table let out an “awww”, Mrs. Nam being one of them. 
Now, Jaehyun turned to you and met your confused face with a confident expression of his own. “I had barely looked up,” you added, “because I was too embarrassed, so I couldn’t remember your face. I was just hoping that I would never meet that person again, whoever it might have been.”
Jaehyun addressed the guests and declared, “Fate was not on her side when it turned out to be her next-door-neighbor. Luckily for her, I never mentioned it.”
Laughers from all sides now and you had a hard time keeping your mouth closed that was constantly on the verge of falling agape at this story. You had had no idea.
“Why not?” you then pressed the topic, your role threatening to crumble as you quickly filled in, “I think everyone here is curious as to why you have never told me until we got together.”
“Because I knew how hard working and busy you always were.” You returned to looking at each other, now unsure whether he spoke through his role or spoke as Jaehyun himself. “And I didn’t want to teeter your attention and let our first meeting get overshadowed by an embarrassing moment for you that might bear negative echoes. From that day on though, I was determined to win you over another way and kept this story a secret for later on. I just haven’t expected how difficult that would be.”
“A real gentleman,” a woman commented and she gently nudged her husband in the side.
“For two months, I was trying so many things to get her attention. But it turned out to be rather challenging, because this woman wouldn’t look at me even once if it was not for pouring coffee all over me.” Jaehyun covered his face with the back of his hand as if shyness threatened to break through. “I held the door open for her, waited for her in the lobby, took the same elevator or coincidentally ran into her in the convenience store. All to no avail. She didn’t spare me a single glance again. Not even when my attempts went more
” He paused and withdrew his hand, letting a serious expression full of regret flash by his face before it returned to his gleeful mien, “... vocal. I think at some point, she even started resenting me. But for me, it was enough. She finally recognized me.”
You didn’t know what to feel. It was a totally new story for you, and you were so sure he had just come up with it. But on the other hand, the entire storytelling sounded too real, too full of details and emotions to have just been made up on the spot. 
And the way he looked at you while telling all that... It was a story for the public, but the way he delivered it, the way he still held your hand under the table, indicated that he was telling it to you, and only you. The entire table, even the room, didn’t exist anymore, only you two.
Your fingers started to tremble.
“So, how did you eventually win her over?” Mrs. Nam asked curiously and Jaehyun’s gaze swiftly shifted to hers before returning to you. 
“I found out she needed help with a small favor, so I offered it to her. As to not make it so obvious and awkward for her again, I feigned to not be as good at studying as I actually am and needed to get tutored by her. Otherwise she would have never accepted my help without giving anything in return, or the feeling of it. And the rest is history.”
The crowd was partially in awe and partially shocked at this bold move. You belonged to the latter. Was this still part of your scheme? Then why was he telling the story so close to the truth?
“Mr. Jeong saw what he wanted and went for it,” Mr. Nam concluded. “That’s a true businessman here.”
“How did you react?” Mrs. Nam then wanted to know from you. “Finding out he schemed his way into your heart?”
It was supposed to be a funny remark, but you were not amused by it one bit. Yet, you brought yourself to crack a smile that was far too crooked to be genuine and shook off Jaehyun’s hand from yours. 
Luckily, no one noticed. 
Except for Jaehyun himself.
“I was totally shocked,” you answered Mrs. Nam. “But it turns out his scheming abilities have become really beneficial for him as he’s always geeting what he wants, am I right?”
Everyone at the table failed to notice your disappointed tone and made the connection to Jaehyun’s business skills as they all started talking again, first complimenting his traits, then falling back into a talk about what to invest in next.
Dessert arrived the next moment, but as you looked at the Panna Cotta in front of you, you didn’t crave for it one bit anymore. In fact, you felt sick to your stomach, and Jaehyun, whose hand now was placed on your thigh in a comforting gesture to make amends, was the cause of all this.
“Excuse me,” you quietly apologized, but nobody noticed you arising from your seat and then disappearing into the hallway.
Jaehyun followed you instantly.
____
“I’ve been in love with you since the first time we met. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Shut up, Jaehyun, I don’t want to hear a single word anymore!”
He was right at the other side of the door, waiting patiently while you were sitting at the other side in your room, grabbing your head in despair and trying to string together the words that had just come out of his mouth. 
“But it’s true,” he said with a softer voice now. “What more can I say for you to believe me?”
“All these women
” It just didn’t make sense in your head. “You wanted me and still were with all these women.”
“I was only with them, because I couldn’t be with you. Sometimes, I’m just
 a little boy still. What else was there for me to do when the woman I love wouldn’t even look at me? I’d rather had her look at me with disgust than not looking at me at all.”
A long pause followed. 
“Yes, you’re just a little boy, Jaehyun. You’d rather trick me than tell me the truth straight up.”
“What would you have said if I had one day just appeared at your doorstep and asked you out? Me, a student, five years your junior, who cannot even compare to the men you meet every day at your job? Sometimes, I regretted wanting to go a different path than what my parents mapped out for me just so that I could keep up with them. But I thought, if you finally got to know the real me, all my other qualities, you would eventually see that I am indeed a match to them. A match for you.”
“But that is no valid reason to lie to me! First the tutoring lessons that you clearly didn’t need just to spend time with me, then
” You gasped. “Had you also lied about getting locked out on that day you appeared at the kindergarten?”
The day he had suddenly exchanged his casual clothes for decent ones and had dyed his hair back to dark. That had not been a fateful coincidence. The fact that he had come to your kindergarten on that exact day dressed like that, it had all been carefully planned.
“I knew you probably thought I wouldn’t be the right candidate for that role with my appearance back then, so I wanted to prove to you that I, indeed, was the best choice with my background, and adapted according to the circumstances. I genuinely wanted to help you, even if not for selfless purposes only. I wanted you to want me too.”
“You tricked me, you manipulated me, and you schemed all your way into my heart.”
You heard him shuffle through the door, probably as perplexed as you were as you repeated your last words in your head. Oh no. You were grateful that he let it pass by him though.
“I’m deeply sorry. I am just a boy who didn’t know how to handle his feelings and who was used to getting whatever he wanted. I think I still have a long way to go to grow up.”
You pulled your knees close to your chest and hugged your arms around your legs. “Why today? Why did you choose today to reveal everything? In front of all these people? Was it one of your schemes too?”
“Not once did I have in mind that I wanted to hurt you. I came out with my feelings today, because they were genuine, and your reaction would be genuine too. And it worked, everyone out there believed it. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
Yes, this was everything that you had wanted. But why was it hurting so much then? Not only because Jaehyun had gone through all these lengths to make your dream come true, but also because you had wasted this much time together. So, so much time.
“So what if I disposed of you right after this?” Your voice sounded icier than it was supposed to, and he noticed it. “Would you have told everyone the truth out of spite?”
“After all, is that what you still think of me?” His pain was almost palpable and you regretted your question right away. Perhaps, because you wanted him to answer differently, but he replied just like you had secretly wanted him to, “If I had helped you make your dream come true, and you had still chosen them over me, then yes, I would have been very hurt. But I would have been happy for you, too. Isn’t that what love is about?”
This was probably the most mature thing he had said to you today. “And if I had chosen you?”
“After tonight, I believe that if it comes down to me and them, you would pick them.”
Was that what he was thinking of you now? Your heart ached when you asked, “Why do you think that?”
“I saw what you’re dealing with, what you try to achieve. You are too much of a hard worker to throw this all away for a normal student with no real plans, no perspective. Someone who can offer you nothing but a promise that he will work hard to help you achieve everything you want.”
A student with no perspective. Was that how Jaehyun saw himself? 
Yes, he had grown up in a business environment and surrounded by wealth, but he was an enrichment to your life without all that too, in ways your workplace and the people in it had never been. Yes, you loved your job and your students, they were the center of your world, and you were working so very hard for achievement after achievement. 
So hard that it had totally passed by you that you yourself had been the center of the world for someone, and it was actually nice to finally have a person look at you when you had only been overlooked by exactly these people before, who you were trying so hard to impress. And what for?
Jaehyun might only offer promises, but he always made sure to live up to them. Wasn’t this worth so much more?
“I’ll go downstairs again,” he then announced quietly when you didn’t say something in an uncomfortable long time. “If you don’t feel like coming, you can stay here and I’ll find an excuse, don’t worry about that.”
Your front teeth sank into your bottom lip. Jaehyun had been right. Perhaps, you would have called him an idiot for having asked you out the very first day you met. 
“Idiot!” you called out to him now for a whole other reason as you opened the door and dashed after him.
With much surprise twinkling in his eyes, you now stood in front of him and crossed your arms. 
“What?”
“You’re an idiot,” you repeated. “If you believe that after everything, when it comes down between you and them, I’d pick them, then you’re an idiot. Because I’d pick you.”
Jaehyun didn’t have much time to process what you had just said as you slung your arms around his neck and pulled him down to you. 
The moment you kissed Jaehyun for the very first time you realized that all of this might not have entirely been a scheme at all, from both of your sides. 
He kissed you back with much passion and fierceness, and you felt that exactly these feelings had been lingering inside of you as well.
You just weren’t sure for how long already. In the end, it didn’t really matter.
____
“Here?” you asked Jaehyun with widened eyes when you fell back on the bed.
He crawled on top of you. “Do you think I’ll wait any longer for this?”
“But everyone is still downstairs, finishing dinner.”
“Good,” he whispered and kissed your neck. “Then no one will hear us.”
You chuckled when his playful pecks turned into sensual kisses and he eventually started sucking on the sensitive skin. Goose bumps spread all over your upper body, and you couldn’t remember when you had last been with a man while Jaehyun
 You balked.
Immediately, he heaved up his head, looking at you with a surprised expression. He stroked your temple. “What’s wrong?”
You didn’t want to admit it. The fact that you felt intimidated by his experience despite you being older. That you felt inferior to all the women he’d ever let in his bed that were far prettier than you. Or so you thought.
But Jaehyun didn’t share your opinion when you hesitantly tried to explain your worries to him.
“You don’t have to worry about any noise coming from my apartment anymore. Because you’re the only one who’s gonna lie in my bed from now on. Okay?”
“Okay.” You giggled when he kissed your cheek. “I really like that.”
Jaehyun sat back up on his knees while suggesting you to keep laying still. He reached out his hands and unbuttoned your blouse. You helped him take off the piece of clothing by winding your body to the side for better access. He then brought his head down to the beginning of your breast and placed a light kiss on a spot that made you shudder. 
With both his pointer fingers, he then searched for the straps of your bra and pulled them aside. You wiggled your arms out of the tightness it had provided, having Jaehyun drag the underwear down enough only for your breasts to lay bare. You turned your gaze to the ceiling and hoped he wouldn't notice your flushed cheeks as you weren’t quite sure what to do or how to behave anymore. 
But Jaehyun, on the contrary, knew exactly what he was doing and how to behave. He put your nipple between his lips and started sucking on it, supporting his body with one hand. A pleasurable feeling streamed through your body whenever he wetted the mound and had his teeth gently tug on it. 
With his free hand, he massaged your other breast that had still remained untouched, and the blissful feeling of being pleasured on both sides suddenly started coiling between your legs where you already felt Jaehyun growing hard in between.
“You like that?” He was suddenly up by your ear again, muttering, “By the sounds you make, I take it as a yes.”
You had made sounds? You hadn’t been aware of that, but Jaehyun seemed to enjoy it very much, judging the way he beamed at you. 
He helped you up to a seated position so that you were able to take off your bra entirely before he let you fall back onto the mattress. Jaehyun had his own shirt unbuttoned and on the floor the next moment, and you swallowed a gasp at how well built he actually was. Prominent muscles showed off abs and his arms were unexpectedly muscular. You stared at him in awe, somehow desiring to have his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.
“Like what you see?” He flashed a grin.
Jaehyun was on his knees now, fiddling with his belt that he intended to open, but you couldn’t wait that long to finally touch him. So you arose from your position and grabbed him by his belt yourself. With one swift motion, you had him freed from this barrier, but didn’t withdraw your hands right away. Instead, you unbuttoned and unzipped his pants yourself.
Jaehyun stayed patiently silent during your actions, his hand entangled in the hair at the back of your head. When you were about to drag down his pants, a huge bulge was already foreshadowing what you would find underneath. Yet, you still let out a gasp when you slid down his boxers and his cock sprang free in front of you. 
You lifted your hands, but then halted. “May I
?”
You didn’t know if asking was even necessary, but given that it was your first time with him, you wanted to be sure that he really wanted his intimate favors to be returned. 
“You may do whatever you want with it,” Jaehyun growled in anticipation of what was about to come.
You cupped his entire length with one hand and watched in amusement how his head rolled back in satisfaction. His chest irregularly lifted with each breath when you started moving your hand up and down. 
You cracked a smile, speeding up your motions that then elicited moans out of Jaehyun that he eventually successfully suppressed through gritted teeth. People were still dining downstairs, but you also didn’t want to risk being overheard. With your thumb, you slid over the tip of his dick that was already wet and sticky from his precum.
You looked up to Jaehyun who turned his gaze down to you, probably wondering why you had suddenly stopped. But then he found you looking at him with much lust, bringing your thumb to your mouth from where you then licked up all his precum.
It was one of the hottest things Jaehyun had ever seen, and he immediately brought your faces together to kiss you passionately and fiercely.
Not much later, you were laying on your back again, entirely naked this time, and Jaehyun was settled between your legs, his elbows braced against the mattress on either side of your head. He nudged you to open your thighs, and you were more than willing to finally welcome him.
Jaehyun did everything in his might to reassure you as you distorted your face at the sharp pain shooting through your lower abdomen upon him entering you with his tip. It had been a long time, so your body was not adjusted to this kind of stretching anymore, and it let you feel it. 
Jaehyun moved very slowly though, with pauses in between, until he was fully sheathed inside of you. And eventually, when he stilled to let you adapt, pain turned into the long awaited pleasure. Suddenly, him filling you out so fully was not an inconvenience anymore, but something inside you screamed for him to go deeper than that so that you would feel more of him. 
Your fingers interlaced in the back of Jaehyun’s neck and his lips came down to kiss you over and over again. He wanted to be assured that you were really okay with him continuing before he ultimately started stroking. 
It still stung when he withdrew himself. But after only two thrusts, you felt nothing anymore except for the ungraspable desire for him to push inside you again. And again. And again. Whenever he pulled out, you couldn’t bear to have him in this position for too long, because you wanted him to hit the spot he had just found. And again. And again.
“Shhhh-” Jaehyun halted and laughed quietly before kissing you. “You want everyone to hear you now?”
“Oh!” You brought your hands in front of your mouth to suffocate the moans that you apparently had let out unconsciously. “I’m sorry!”
“Don’t ever be sorry. You can moan if you don’t mind them.”
But you shook your head. “I don't want them to hear, but I just can’t help it.”
Jaehyun nodded in understanding and started thrusting into you again. And again, you let out a moan despite your efforts to keep your lips sealed. You slid your arms under his and hugged his back. Simultaneously, you brought your legs up and hooked them behind him. The bed shook under you, but luckily it was not making much noise. 
Gently, you bit into Jaehyun’s shoulder to muffle your sounds, and as he didn’t react to it with a wince of pain, you got assured that it was okay for him. On the contrary, he got even braver now. Where he had seemingly been holding himself back this entire time, he was now grabbing the headboard and used it as a support to speed up his stroking game. 
He slammed into you over and over, and you were holding onto him like a lifeline now with your head buried in his chest. Your thighs tensed around his hips as you felt the pleasure that had accompanied you all throughout the act coiling up to a destructive ball between your legs. It tugged on every fiber of your body, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut to focus on it, otherwise, you thought, it would tear you apart.
“Oh, Jaehyun,” you breathed, your nails digging deep into his skin on the back. “I-”
You let out a long breath, very well aware of the fact that when the feeling finally came crashing down on you, you would be in no position to hold in the noises that would pass your lips. 
You then were petrified, eyes widening in shock when you suddenly overheard steps and noises in the hallway. People had finished dinner and were now returning to their rooms, it seemed. There was no way you could now end this with noises!
Jaehyun was very well aware of your surroundings too though, but was not determined to let anyone disrupt what he had been dreaming to do to you for months already. He nodded in silence and pressed you back down on the mattress. With his palm flat, he then covered your mouth, but made sure your nostrils were still free for you to breathe properly. You looked at him with glistening eyes, your arms now loose around his neck.
“Scream,” he summoned. “Scream all you want. I’ll make sure nobody will hear you.”
And you did. 
You screamed your heart out into his hand when you came undone beneath him, fingers scratching over his shoulders and toes curled up as your entire body convulsed. And he drowned every single sound so that nobody could hear you except for him only.
When Jaehyun let go of you with a sneaky grin, your mouth was dry and your vision blurry, but you could still watch his sweaty chest arise above you when he prepared himself for his own heights. Deep toned moans entered your ears and you smiled softly as you let him cum all inside you with a few more thrusts that eventually slowed down.
Jaehyun fell limply next to you, but, with his remaining strength, he still managed to pull you up to his chest so that you could find a comfortable spot there. It was already dark outside and you heard one door close after another, indicating that people were now ending the day.
“So, you still want to sleep with a wall of pillows between us?” Jaehyun teased and played with a strand of your hair.
You laughed when you remembered how you had initially been so worried about the one bed setup. 
Now, it was very conventional.
____
You only remembered falling asleep and dreaming soundly in Jaehyun’s arms after two more rounds of muffled screams and shaking orgasms. 
When you woke up much later, still in the middle of the night though, those arms that had held you warm were no longer wrapped around you, and your bed was missing his body.
Your first thought was that Jaehyun had fled and your heart jumped to your throat. That he had realized he didn’t want you after all and just dropped you like that. That you were, in fact, unlovable.
You slowly started to calm down again though when you saw his bag still laying where he had placed it and part of his clothes that he had worn the evening before still neatly folded on the chair in front of the dressing table. 
“Jaehyun?” you asked carefully when you got out of the bed and threw on your pajama pants and a t-shirt. 
You approached the bathroom, but no light was coming from inside, indicating that no one was in there after all, and when you eventually opened the door, you found out that you had been correct. 
Where could he have disappeared to? It was so odd. 
You slid into your slippers with the intention of leaving the room as quietly as possible. You knew you could have also waited for Jaehyun to return, but something inside you wouldn’t be able to casually get back to sleep without an anxious feeling, so you needed to get rid of it in an instant and find him.
You didn’t need to look for long though. The moment you opened the door, he was already standing right in front of you, not less surprised by your sudden appearance as vice versa. 
“Where have you been?” you whispered when he closed the door behind him after stepping into the room.
With a swift motion, he held a bottle of water in front of you. “I was thirsty, so I went to get something to drink from the kitchen.”
“Oh
” You had been so anxious for nothing. 
“What?” he grinned when he went over to the table and placed the bottle on it. “You thought I sneaked out in the middle of the night?”
You shrugged and seated yourself on the bedside with a long sigh while Jaehyun opened the water bottle and drank from it. “When I woke up after my nap this afternoon, you weren’t here either. I know you went to the talk with the Nams, but
”
Jaehyun placed the bottle down again and closed the lid. “Were you afraid I had suddenly left? Or worse
 that I was with another woman?”
“Well
” You averted your gaze by turning your head to the side. “You’ve been with many women after all. And I’ve always heard everything.”
Jaehyun didn’t respond until he stood in front of you and had your face cupped with his hands. “What if I tell you that throughout this childish act, there has always been just one woman I wanted to be with, and now that I have her, I don’t need anyone else anymore?”
You lowered your gaze and smiled reluctantly. Despite the darkness, you saw the entire truth flicker in his eyes and believed every word that he said. Why shouldn’t you after all? He had done all this just for you.
“I believe you.”
“Very well.” He kissed you and crawled back into the bed to where you followed him. “So, what should we do when we return home tomorrow?”
You first got on your knees and fluffed up your pillow. “What do you mean?”
Jaehyun grabbed you by your arm and pulled you towards him. The next moment, you laid with your stomach flat on top of him and he brushed through your hair, gently kissing your parting. “I don’t mean we have to get married by the time of your promotion. Yet.” You blushed, but luckily he couldn’t see. “But if you start going out with me, I’d be just as happy, Miss Neighbor.”
You braced your arms against the mattress and lifted your upper body up so that you could wind yourself and face him. “If you think I would ever give up that spot next to you on the bed now, then you’re so wrong.”
“I like the way you think.” 
A deep kiss followed, only interrupted by your muffled whimpers when he pulled down your pants and nudged hard between your legs again.
____
You had parted with the hosts on magnificent terms with Mr. Nam exclusively promising you that he would vote for you to get the job. As of this weekend, you, with the help of your fake fiancé turned real boyfriend, had proven to be the best candidate for the soon to be open position, and if anyone still thought otherwise, Mr. Nam would convince them himself. 
Mrs. Nam had only silently nodded, seeming displeased over something, but you didn’t bother too much about her mood swings since you had never liked her anyway. If you had her husband’s word, then nothing else mattered anymore.
You had one week left to prepare yourself for the meeting with the board, but since everything seemed to be home and dry, you could relax most days and spent every night at your neighbor’s over there in room 803. 
“Scream,” Jaehyun had said the first time you went next door, sitting naked on top of him with your hips locked on his. He had let his hands roam over your cheeks and squeezed tightly into the flesh. “You can scream as loud as you want here. Don’t care about the neighbors.”
And, as a matter of fact, the screams that came out of room 803 from that night on, only belonged to you.
____
“I’m very sorry to deliver this message to you, miss,” the director said, “but we cannot offer you the position at our kindergarten in this city.”
In front of you, you visibly saw your whole world shatter.
What had gone wrong? Had you not spoken to the Nams just last weekend, who had promised you that you had secured the position already and the rest were only formalities? What had happened in the past days that must have apparently changed their minds completely?
“I’m sorry, I think I might have misunderstood,” you apologized, “I assumed the parents who are also part of the investor group, for example Mr. and Mrs. Nam, also have a say in this. Do they not?”
You had already been welcomed with a dreadful feeling when you had opened the door and only found the director sitting in the room. None of the others had been present unlike the last time. Still, you had hoped that you were wrong.
“Oh, they do, miss. Actually, every parent has approved of you.”
“Then, what changed your mind?” You had a really hard time keeping your voice at a respectful level. You had done everything they had expected of you. Save from
 “Is it because I’m still not married? They all know I’m engaged and they know my fiancĂ©. I can always hand in a copy of the certificate later, but we do not have a date yet.”
“Miss
” The director lifted up his hand, smiling this time. “I said we cannot offer you the position at our kindergarten in this city. I repeat the last words: in this city.”
Your brows drew together in skepsis. “So that means
” You didn’t want to speak out loud what you were thinking as you didn’t know yet whether these were better or worse news.
“Congratulations!” The director arose from his chair, rounded the table and approached you. “We offer you the position of an elementary school teacher in one of our Shi-A schools in Busan!”
“In
 Busan?”
It was odd how the city’s name was the first word that resonated in your head. Not “elementary school teacher” which even meant a significant upgrade from your current position. But the city’s name. A city on the other side of the country where you would need to move to if you accepted this position. Which meant in retrospect that you had to move out of your current apartment, away from

“Miss?” The director looked at you curiously. “Are you not pleased about this?”
“I am!” you corrected yourself. “I am truly happy over the fact that you offer me an even higher position now.”
“Fantastic! We are aware that you will have to move then, but don’t worry about the logistics, we will provide for all expenses you need. You can start with the new semester, so there is plenty of time. Isn’t it fortunate?”
He wasn’t aware of the fact that this, indeed, was really unfortunate for you.
____
Not long after you had gotten the work contract to read through and sign until the week after that, you were standing outside of the director’s room, petrified to the core. Too many thoughts were flying into your head that you struggled with to organize. 
This was your dream. This was your dream coming true, yet

“Not happy about your new position after all?” 
In front of you stood Mrs. Nam, arms folded across her chest, standing high on her heels. Her lips were curled up to a smile that was all too wicked and did not resemble the persona she had shown to you the majority of the past weekend. 
You were at a loss for words as you couldn’t define her expression, but she was happy enough to help you out when she explained, “In the beginning, I fancied your fiancĂ© very much. I thought he wouldn’t say no to a bit of fun with me. Nobody ever had. Until then. Or should I better say
 fake fiancĂ©?” Your mouth fell agape, but you were quick to close it with a hard swallow. “Yes, my chin also dropped when I overheard your little conversation after dinner.”
“Let me ex-”
But she only lifted her hand to gesture to you to stop speaking. Her nostrils flared, anger clearly mirrored in her eyes. “After our tennis match, before I found out the truth between you two, I met with him and suggested that he would come to me during nighttime. I had so much fun watching you being all giddy during dinner, knowing that once you’d be asleep, he’d slip into my bed.”
You needed a moment to process everything she had said. When you had been asleep, Jaehyun had met with Mrs. Nam who had then offered him a place in her bed? You were furious. A married woman making advances on a taken man
 you had heard about her reputation among the childrens’ mothers, but never had you thought that one day, you would become her victim too. 
But more so
 Another thought suddenly cut off the air in your lungs. “Jaehyun has not declined?”
Her eyes narrowed. “He hasn’t declined.” Your heart dropped. “When we met during the night, I didn’t mention what I found out. I didn’t care if it meant I could see him more often. But he had recorded the entire conversation and then dared to blackmail me. That bastard had followed his own plan all along. He told me that if you wouldn’t get this position without him needing to share my bed, then he’d play it to my husband, to the entire board and the school if necessary. I told him that if he did that, I would tell everyone you weren’t even together. Unfortunately for me, unlike him, I didn’t have any proof.”
Suddenly, you felt like you could breathe again. Jaehyun hadn’t declined her invitation, because he had his own scheme mapped out and wanted to help you all along.
“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” you asked sharply. “Luring taken men into your bed as a married woman?”
She raised one brow in questioning. “As far as I know, he hasn’t been taken at that time, am I right?” Unfortunately, she was, but you kept quiet. “The men I’ve been with have never once been happy in their marriage or have drifted apart from their partner already. At best, they already had affairs going on. The only mistake I made this time was choosing someone who I thought was a naive kid. My fault.”
“Is that why you’re sending me away? To get revenge on him for doing what was right and not betraying me?”
Mrs. Nam slowly moved her head from one side to the other. “I’m not sending you away, otherwise my husband would start questioning. I’m giving you a choice. Either stay here in your old position or move to chase after a more glorious future. After all, that’s what you want, right? The lengths you’re going through to get what you want? What’s making you so different from me, then?”
She had thrown the truth over you like a bucket of ice cold water. You had lied your way into the promotion and dragged Jaehyun along with you in the process. Were you really different from them? It was written all over your face, apparently.
“Exactly.” Mrs. Nam grinned. “You remind me of me when I was younger. I also wanted power and wealth, and eventually got trapped in a loveless marriage. I’m not heartless, miss. After all, it only takes me a few phone calls to ruin your fake fiancĂ© and everyone related to him. His little audio has nothing on my power.”
“Then why?” The contract was rattling in your shaking hands. “Why give me a choice in the first place and not fire me on the spot?”
“My daughter adores you very much, she talks about you every day.” A flash of regret passed over her face, but before you could catch the entire meaning of it, it had already vanished. Perhaps, she cared more about her daughter than she had let seen past, but failed to show it. “Back in the days, I made the wrong decision on what to choose. Perhaps, I hope, you’re going to make the right one.” She turned on her heels and lifted up her hand as though she wanted to bid farewell to you. “I’m sure you’ll know what to do.”
The contract was still shaking in your hand long after she had left.
____
When you walked into Jaehyun’s apartment later that day, your face was still like stone, the contract also still in your hands. 
On your entire way back home, you had read through each paragraph over and over again. It sounded too good to be true. Nearly the double amount of salary, more days off during vacation and your own assistant teacher. You were offered to teach the first two years of elementary school and if necessary, they would even provide housing for the first three months.
This was everything you’d ever worked hard for and dreamt of. 
“I got offered the position of an elementary school teacher from next semester on,” you declared nearly absent-mindedly as you sank down on the couch and handed him over the contract. 
“Congratulations!” Jaehyun wore a solemn expression on his face when he flopped down on the cushion next to you. “You want to celebrate?”
His happiness pulled you out of your thoughts and you faced him with an agonized expression. “There is nothing to celebrate about this, Jaehyun! The position is in Busan! That’s on the other side of the country!”
“Okay calm down
” When you made attempts to arise, he touched your upper arm and indicated to you to stay seated. “I know where Busan is. That’s no problem. I’ll just go with you, because I’ll finish university in two months anyway. And after that
”
You cracked a pained smile. “After that you want to go to Europe.”
He shook his head. “I don’t need to go to Europe. I can go with you and find a job there.”
“And not living your dream? What you have worked so hard towards after you helped me achieve everything that I wanted? You want to drop that?”
He looked at you like you had just uttered the most ridiculous question someone could ask. “You’re more important to me than that dream.”
“Was that what you also thought when you blackmailed Mrs. Nam?”
Jaehyun drew in a sharp breath. “So you know.”
“You lied to me again!” you yelled. “When will you ever stop lying to me about serious stuff, Jaehyun?”
“I was about to tell you as soon as I knew about the offer, when your position was secured! I saw the chance and I took it! What did she tell you?”
You told him about your encounter with the parent and had arisen from your seated position by the time you finished, walking around the living room in nervous circles now. 
“She didn’t just suggest it,” Jaehyun opposed. “She told me, for you to get this position, I’d need to sleep with her, otherwise she would tell her husband what a bad teacher you are. And I was absolutely not going to do it, so I thought if she dared to blackmail me, I could do the same and pretend to be interested just to let it all blow into her face. What would you have done if you knew? There was absolutely nothing you could have done! I turned the situation to your advantage!”
“She could have come forward with the entire truth! She could have gotten me fired and your true identity revealed!” You came to a halt in front of him on the couch and he took your hand into his, trying to calm you down. “Do you know what that could have meant? If you had informed me, we could have tried to figure it out together!”
“And then for you to resent them and quit what you were working so hard for? I was not about to risk that! I was only acting in your best interest.”
You wiggled your hands out of his and shifted around, away from him. “You put both of our futures at risk by doing that, Jaehyun! What if exactly the opposite had happened? What then? Would you have taken responsibility for it?”
He didn’t say anything for a long time and you braced your hands against the table, losing a long breath. 
“I just
 I just wanted to help.”
“I didn’t ask for your help! I never had! Look at what happened!”
You were just so, so frustrated. You had only gotten this offer, because Jaehyun had interfered. You had only been invited to the getaway weekend, because Jaehyun had interfered. You had only fallen into the parents’ favors, because Jaehyun had interfered. 
Had you achieved all this without him as well? Something inside you was assured that you wouldn’t have.
And you resented him for that.
“In the end, you’ve ruined everything I’ve planned and worked so hard for! Had you not come into the picture at all, then I would have gained their favors myself! After I’ve gotten the offer, I would have announced my separation and everything would have been fine!”
Suddenly, Jaehyun was behind you, turning you around by your shoulders. “You know that’s not true,” he said calmly. “I know how these people are, and you now know too. It wouldn’t have worked.”
Yes, you knew. That was why your resentment was so strong. Everything you had ‘achieved’ was ‘achieved’ through a man, with the help of a man. Even the board had only consisted of men, and in the end, Mr. Nam had given you his permission after having bonded with Jaehyun, not yourself. 
This was not entirely your own achievement. Everything you had worked so hard for, was in vain in the end, because Jaehyun had only needed to do a bit of small talk, play with his charms, and they were butter in his hands.
Yet, it still hadn’t all worked out in your favor.
“I also have the option to stay, but only in my old position.” 
“As I said,” Jaehyun interrupted you with a gentle voice, “I’ll go wherever you go.”
But you weren’t sure whether you wanted this.
You moved past him and grabbed your purse from the couch. “I need time to think.”
When you walked out of Jaehyun’s apartment, you found two neighbors in the hallway, talking to each other. 
One of them was Mrs. Choi and the other person was the neighbor with the dog. They were trying hard to pretend that they hadn’t eavesdropped all the yelling coming out of room 803 earlier as opposed to the usual noise, and greeted you, but you just ignored them.
That night, you didn’t return to Jaehyun’s room.
____
When you had first voiced the desire to become a teacher, your priority was to support and foster children who really needed special attention. Those who got overlooked in school, who suffered from the intense pressure and who possessed talents that weren’t recognized.
You had landed the assistant teacher position in that prestigious private kindergarten, because you had been sent there from your former teacher’s program when the previous one needed to be admitted to the hospital due to severe burnout. She had never returned and you were able to stay as it was in the middle of the semester. It had been sheer luck.
As an assistant teacher, you were only doing that: assisting. None of the things that had driven you to study this major could have come to use yet, and you were tired. You wanted to become a real teacher, because you thought you could finally get the wheels rolling this way.
Jaehyun saw it in your eyes the moment you opened the door. “You’re going to Busan.”
You bit into your lower lip, nodding almost noticeably. “I’ll go to Busan.”
“Without me.” He smiled in defeat.
“Yes.”
“Is it so hard for you?” he asked. “To just let people you love into your life?”
“It’s not that I go because I don’t love you.”
He had you in his arms and inside his apartment before the first tear fell. “I know. I love you too.”
You squeezed your eyes shut as tears dropped onto his shirt and lifted your arms, holding meekly onto the fabric. “You’re just so young and you’re going to finish your studies soon. You shouldn’t go with me.”
Quietly, he whispered into your hair, “I know.”
If Jaehyun went with you, he would give up his dream of finally breaking free from his parents and seeing the world. You were not going to rob him of that. If you didn’t go, you would need to give up your own dream, and he wouldn’t want that either. 
Perhaps, it was because you were older and more experienced than Jaehyun, but you had felt from the beginning that whatever you had started was going to find an end soon anyway. There was just no future for two people who were at such different stages in their life. 
Sometimes in life, there were no winners in love.
You snuggled up to him more and sobbed, “I’m really grateful for what you have done for me. Without you, I wouldn’t have been able to come so far.”
In the end, you had come to your senses. You were not going to throw his selfless acts away and accepted the gift he had been willing to give to you without anything in return. Just because he selflessly loved you. As simple as that. You were willing to pass this message on to everyone who needed it.
At his age, perhaps it was really this simple to love so fiercely and unconditionally. Later in life though, he would realize that it would take much, much more.
“Nonsense.” Jaehyun chuckled lightly. “You can achieve anything you want, you know that. You were just in the wrong environment. You can still-”
You shook your head and withdrew yourself from his embrace. “It wouldn’t change anything. You helped me achieve my goal and I’m not going to stand in the way of yours. You never dreamed of staying here after your graduation. If you do, even with all the love you hold for me now, you’re going to resent me one day, and I don’t want to take credit for that. Perhaps you don’t understand now, but you will in the future. You have to go.”
Mrs. Nam was wrong. You didn’t choose wealth and power over love. There was a third option. You chose your dream. And Jaehyun should do that too.
“When I’ve finished my travels and started with my business, can I come find you again?”
He wanted a sliver of hope, a silver lining. If it put him at ease, you would give him that, even if the chance was so less, you wouldn’t even dare to dream about it in secrecy.
“I’ll wait for you.”
With the kind of lifestyle Jaehyun had been living before you, you were sure that he would forget about this sliver of hope all too soon.
When he met girls in other countries, he would forget about his neighbor in room 804 at his former apartment complex who had always been so mean to him. Soon, you would only be a blurry picture in a string of memories, joining the ranks of his many, many lovers.
He would not suffer too long, if at all. 
He would be fine, knowing that in the end, you still had picked them over him, just like he had initially predicted.
When Jaehyun kissed you goodbye, you were quite sure that this was the last time you would ever see him again despite living next door, which made getting over this breakup even more painful.
Back in your own room, you took off your fake engagement ring and put it into the far corner of a cramped drawer.
Whenever you went to bed the following days, you hoped that noises would start coming out of room 803 again. 
You were scared that without the noises, he would hear you cry yourself to sleep every night until you nearly passed out from exhaustion and only woke up with a swollen face the next morning over the pain of your heart breaking apart.
But no noise could be heard ever again coming out of room 803.
And it broke you even more, knowing he was suffering as much as you.
____
Two months later, in late December, Jaehyun moved out.
You came home to movers carrying box after box out of his apartment. You had lingered a bit longer at your front door, heart pounding at your throat, just to get a glimpse of Jaehyun for one last time. But he had not been present that day. When you left your apartment a few hours later to grab dinner from the convenience store, his room was entirely empty.
According to the semester plan, he must have finished his last exams by now, so he was unofficially done with his bachelor studies. You doubted he would come back for a ceremony in February, so he was free to do whatever he wanted now. Perhaps, he was sitting on a plane to Italy or France at this very moment. 
A few days later, an elderly woman moved into room 803.
And life went on.
____
One year later
“Teacher, what are you going to do during vacation?” one of your students, a four-year-old-boy, asked.
It was the day before winter break, but working for a public kindergarten meant you would at least get a week to yourself during New Year in January apart from desk warming the remaining break. A week in two months of winter break and thanks to public holidays only, but it was better than nothing at all.
“Perhaps,” you answered while putting one hand crafted paper star after another that the children had made for christmas on the classroom’s windows, “I’ll take a little trip.”
“To where?” another girl, one year older, chimed in. “I’m going to Busan to visit my grandmother!”
“I’m going to Busan too!” the boy then announced. “Teacher, have you ever been to Busan?”
You shook your head, reaching for another star he held out to you. “I’ve never come to visit there. Can you recommend it?”
“Yes!” Both children yelled excitedly. 
“Then I’ll ask you where I should visit when I go there!”
They nodded in acknowledgement and returned back to their work which was crafting more stars so that the entire windows would be covered in them by the end of the day. 
Twice a week, the kindergarteners were divided into different groups which either focused on art or music. The main subjects taught were reading, writing and maths. Apart from that, the children had enough free time to enjoy being real children, which they spent playing together, being outside and getting taught other necessary educational topics like brushing teeth and healthy nutrition in a playful way.
In comparison to Shi-A private kindergarten, where the teachers had paid homage to the parents with impressive courses including Chinese and English, topped with real diplomas and graduation ceremonies as well as teachers who had to work all throughout each break, this public school was where you felt you belonged.
This was where you finally felt you could actually support the children like you had always wanted, in an environment safer for them and their teachers.
And that was the very reason why you had never signed the contract for Shi-A elementary school in Busan in the first place.
In fact, you had never planned on doing so. How else would you have convinced Jaehyun to leave after everything? Just because you couldn’t live your dream didn’t mean he shouldn’t either.
You had never picked other people over him, you had always picked him. 
Before you had gone to him to break up, you had thought about the upcoming decision for very long. You had loved those children, but eventually, they would move on and forget you. While you would have been stuck in a slave contract in a worse environment than before with parents from hell. All the money and other benefits could have never made up for the mental suffering.
It had always been your dream to work for a reputable private school, but one day, you had remembered the little girl inside of you who had not wanted reputation and recognition and was only there to help children.
So you had quit altogether.
And then you had eventually landed a job as a teacher at this public kindergarten where the salary was much lower and the commute took over an hour one way, but the work conditions were much better and the teachers and children just as lovely. The parents were not less strict, but tolerable and nobody tried to sabotage anyone.
Yet nowadays, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that this was still not everything to your life as a teacher. This could not be it, there had to be more you could move in this entire system. You just couldn’t point a finger as to what it could be as this was everything you had ever dreamed of having.
“What are you going to do during our time off?” you asked your assistant teacher. 
“I’m going to meet my boyfriend’s family for the very first time, they’ve invited me to spend New Years with them,” she giggled shyly. “I’m so excited. And you?”
You smiled, happy for everyone who had plans except for you. 
“Perhaps, I’m going on a little trip to Busan. I’ve never been there before.”
____
It was already late when you arrived at home, and as always during winter, it was dark outside now as well. 
While you typed in the door code combination, you wondered which convenience store food you would get for dinner today as again, you were too exhausted to cook something yourself. A small vacation would surely help you relax and start into the new semester more fresh. Yes, you should definitely go to Busan.
You halted though when you opened your front door. Had you accidentally left the lights on?
You hurried through the narrow hall, at one point wondering if you had been robbed during your absence when a voice spoke up before you even reached the living room,
“I still remember your passcode from the day I climbed through your window.”
Jaehyun arose from your couch and your breath caught. 
He was still as handsome as the last time you had seen each other over a year ago. Nicely dressed, hair still dark and neatly combed aside. He looked healthy and happy, and it made you happy too to see him like this.
At one point, you had dropped your bag on the floor while you could do nothing else but stare at him and stare, wondering if this was a dream. One of too many from the past year, of which you had never hoped could ever come true.
“What
 are you doing here?” You didn’t know what else to say, you had so many questions.
“I’m living here now.” With a grin, he pointed at a suitcase in the corner of the living room. “Temporarily.”
“Well
” You cleared your throat and feigned braveness. “As far as I remember, your room is the one next to mine, room 803.”
“Yeah, but sadly that one is already occupied by a very nice, elderly lady who was quickly able to assure me that you were still living here.”
Before you could think twice, you had already closed the distance between you two, and he held you tightly in his arms, quietly, for a very long time.
“You liar,” Jaehyun eventually said, with no trace of reproach in his tone though, pressing you even closer to his chest. “You big, fat liar. When I called Shi-A elementary school in Busan. They told me they never heard of you, and when I called your former kindergarten, they said you quit a year ago.”
“I’ll take credit for being a liar this time as opposed to you.” You smiled through your tears when Jaehyun gently pushed you away from him and cupped your face. “I didn’t want you to stay here with me. I didn’t want you to give up on your dream just because I did.”
“Say no more. I understand." His expression was so gentle, his face free of any worry and doubt. “I was a regular student with no real perspective and just one dream. You just told me to do what a good teacher would have told all their students. This time, all the trickery rightfully belonged to you, but I would be really happy if we stop that now.”
You nodded, your tears salty against your lips, but Jaehyun kissed them all away from your cheeks. “I’m so glad you came back,” you sobbed.
“I told you I would.”
It had never been only a sliver a hope for him. It had always been a promise.
“But what if I wouldn’t have been here anymore?”
“Then I would have come to Busan or to wherever in the world to get you.”
You blinked through your blurry vision. “To get me where?”
One corner of Jaehyun’s lips tilted up when he let go of you. “Eventually, my parents came to their senses and didn’t abandon me like they always threatened. The longer I traveled and the more people I met, the more I realized that with my background and roots, I am able to achieve something, to change something, and far faster than anyone else. I am so privileged and took it for granted when I can twist it to an advantage instead of being a selfish brat. When I have the possibility and opportunity, I don’t want to throw it away. So halfway through my trip, I was just building connections for my future. I will join my parents’ business after all, but not to work for them, but for myself. I will build my own sister company.”
“Jaehyun, that’s amazing!” you congratulated him. “I’m happy you figured out your future path! I can assure you, you’re going to do such a great job.”
Sometimes, it just took someone a few months off to figure out where they belonged, what they wanted. If he had followed you, he might or might have not come to the same conclusion. You couldn’t figure out an answer. But what mattered was that he had one after all.
“So all throughout your Europe trip, it was not only drinking and girls?” you teased. 
“Please.” He waved aside. “Everyone was annoyed by the fact that I kept talking about one woman only who I would return to eventually.”
You blushed. “Still, you told me you came to take me. To where, tell me?” 
Jaehyun’s expression turned stern, but hopeful. “To the UK. That’s where I want to build my company, kind of like an overseas branch. I still can’t offer you much, but in a few years, I promise you, when my business is flourishing and we live in a nice townhouse in the center of London with a small garden and a dog and children, you won’t regret it. But
” He halted as though a sudden thought had crossed his mind. “But if you have already found someone who can offer just as much now or even better, then I understand if you decline.”
“How many?” you asked while losing a breath you had been holding in.
“What?”
“How many children?”
Perhaps, that was it, what you were missing. Perhaps, you weren’t supposed to work in this environment for the entirety of your life. Perhaps, just like Jaehyun, you were destined for so much more, for another path, and that path was perhaps not etched into the grounds of this country.
How were you supposed to find out if you didn’t try just like he had?
“T-two,” Jaehyun responded, unsure whether it was the right answer.
He could have said one or ten for all you cared. “Sounds good. I should then tell my fiancĂ© our engagement is called off, because he wants three.”
“...what?”
You shook your head and laughed. “There is no fiancĂ©, neither real or fake. There
 hasn’t been anyone since you.”
“Good. It’s good to see you so happy and carefree finally.” Jaehyun approached you and put his hands on your waist, drawing you close to him. “And I’m relieved there is no other man. Because when I’m going to propose to you, it’s going to be for real this time.”
A smile radiating pure bliss left your lips when you got on your toes and finally kissed him.
You were blissfully unaware of the fact that Jaehyun had already picked out the ring before he had left the country, one identical to your fake one, just made of platinum and adorned with a real diamond. Princess cut, two carats. Just like you had dreamed of. 
He had carried it with him whenever he went, like a lucky charm.
The ring was a reminder to him that there was always a reason to come back.
Because his future wife was waiting for him, and she deserved everything she had ever dreamed of. 
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hangmanbradshaw · 1 year ago
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Maybe ✹ and đŸ€ if they haven't been asked yet??
Ahh hi friend!
✹What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)-
Hmmm my twister AU I think!! So like. Twister and before I consider my “old” stuff and I feel I’ve grown the more writing I’ve done, but I really loved my twister AU, it was fun formatting the story for that one and the exes vibe. (Sorry I’m doing more than one- it’s more just I love being asked about any of my worlds and wish I could talk about them all more. So like my wolves & foxes one or rival princes ones which I totally think I’ve grown since then but those were such fun worlds to create! I would love to talk about it. DLP- people keep asking me for more and that’s my fault but I’m working on it now, but I’d also like to talk about it if anyone wanted đŸ«¶đŸŒ)(or Santa world lmao basically please come ask me about any worlds/stories. I have so much backstory and world building that exists solely in my head and could talk for hours and never get tired of it)
đŸ€what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?
Stolen kisses, pretty lies. I got some lovely responses to it for sure, but I think the vibe just wasn’t what people expected? Or maybe didn’t totally get the very intentional choices made? Like. It was very much intended to be that Jake was acting crazy to drive bradley away (hence the blank space vibes). Idk if my intention was fully understood that time but! I had fun :)
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rafedarling · 5 months ago
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𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐱𝐩𝐩đČ đ€đąđŠđŠđžđ„ đ„đąđŻđž
request: open
pairing: drew starkey x actress!reader
summary: new parents and beloved hollywood couple drew and you take to the jimmy kimmel live stage to discuss your latest movie project together, which releases in may. between balancing new parenthood and demanding film schedules, you two finds yourself sharing a funny, heartfelt stories about life on set with their baby girl, emma starkey. a viral behind-the-scenes video brings laughter to the show, as you discuss how parenting has influenced your lives and careers. based on today drew interview on jimmy kimmel live interview.
warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, humorous parenting moments, discussions of balancing work and family life.
au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy
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gif: rafedarling
“Ladies and gentlemen, our next guests are not only Hollywood’s favorite power couple but also the stars of the highly anticipated romantic-action film Against All Odds, which hits theaters this May. And if that’s not enough, they’ve recently stepped into the chaotic world of parenthood with their baby girl, Emma. Please welcome Drew Starkey and Y/N!”
You can hear the audience roared with applause as Jimmy Kimmel welcomed his next guests.
You and Drew walked out hand in hand, smiling and waving to the audience. Drew’s free hand rested on your back as he guided you to the guest couch. The applause was deafening, with some cheers and whistles peppered in. You laughed as Jimmy gestured to quiet the audience.
“Wow,” Jimmy said, shaking his head.
“You guys have the crowd in a frenzy. I mean, Hollywood’s hottest couple and now officially parents? Congratulations!”
“Thank you,” you said, smiling at the crowd. “It’s been a crazy year.”
“Yeah,” Drew chimed in, “between the movie and the baby, I’m not even sure what sleep feels like anymore.”
The audience laughed, and Jimmy leaned forward.
“Okay, we have to start with the most important question: How’s parenthood treating you? You’ve got a baby girl, Emma. How’s life with a newborn?”
Drew chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.
“It’s
 humbling, to say the least. Being a first-time parent is no joke. I don’t think I could survive it without this one,” he said, nodding toward you.
You playfully nudged him. “Oh, stop it. You’re doing great.”
Jimmy smiled. “Okay, Y/N, your turn. How’s life as a mom?”
“It’s amazing,” you said, your voice softening.
“I mean, it’s exhausting, but Emma’s such a sweet baby. Watching her grow and discover the world makes all the sleepless nights worth it.”
Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “Sleepless nights? Drew, are you pulling your weight with those 3 a.m. feedings and diaper changes?”
Drew grinned, holding up his hands defensively.
“Absolutely. I’ve mastered the art of the one-handed diaper change. My record is forty-three seconds.”
The audience erupted in laughter, and you rolled your eyes.
“He’s not lying. But let’s not forget the time you forgot to put the diaper on at all.”
The crowd gasped with laughter as Drew shook his head, groaning.
“Okay, in my defense, I was running on two hours of sleep. And the burp cloth worked just fine
 temporarily.”
Jimmy laughed, slapping the desk. “You’re officially a dad now, Drew. Forgetting a diaper is like a rite of passage.”
Drew nodded solemnly. “It’s a learning curve.”
Jimmy turned his attention back to you. “Now, let’s talk about Against All Odds. The trailer has everyone excited. What can you tell us about the movie?”
You leaned forward slightly.
“It’s a romantic-action film about two rival spies played by Drew and me who are forced to work together on a mission to stop a global threat. Of course, things get complicated when they realize they have a shared past.”
“Ah, a little romance, a little action,” Jimmy said. “And a lot of explosions, I’m guessing?”
“Definitely,” Drew said.
“The stunts in this film are insane. We’ve got car chases, hand-to-hand combat, and this one sequence where Y/N literally jumps out of a helicopter.”
The audience gasped, and Jimmy’s jaw dropped.
“Wait, wait. You’re telling me Y/N did her own stunts?”
You shrugged with a smile. “Most of them, yeah. The helicopter scene was terrifying, but the adrenaline rush was worth it.”
Jimmy turned to Drew. “And how did you feel about your wife jumping out of a helicopter while pregnant?”
“Oh, that scene was filmed before we knew about Emma,” Drew said quickly.
“But I still worried about her constantly. Every time she’d do a stunt, I’d be off to the side like, ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’”
You laughed. “He was basically my personal cheerleader-slash-bodyguard.”
Jimmy shook his head, smiling. “And Y/N, how was filming while pregnant? Did the crew make accommodations for you?”
“They were amazing,” you said.
“They adjusted the schedule so that I could rest when I needed to, and they made sure I always had plenty of snacks on set.”
“Snacks were essential,” Drew added. “She had a bag of trail mix with her at all times.”
Jimmy laughed. “It sounds like the two of you had a lot going on behind the scenes. Speaking of which, I have to ask about the viral video. You know the one.”
You groaned, covering your face with your hands. Drew laughed, shaking his head.
“Oh no. You’re not really going to show it, are you?”
“Of course I am!” Jimmy said, grinning.
“For anyone who hasn’t seen it, this is a behind-the-scenes video of Drew and Y/N on set. Drew’s building a baby crib, and Y/N is
 well, just watch.”
The screen infront and behind you lit up with the video. The audience howled as they watched Drew hammering away at a crib while you sat on a couch with a breast pump. The rhythmic “whirr, whirr” of the pump provided the perfect comedic soundtrack as Drew worked intently. At one point, you casually scrolled through your phone, looking completely unbothered.
When the video ended, the audience erupted into cheers and laughter. Jimmy was wiping tears from his eyes.
“So my question is
 is this what you do on set?”
“Well,” Drew said, still chuckling, “Emma needed a crib, and we didn’t have one on set. So, naturally, I decided to build one during a break.”
“And I,” you added with a grin, “was taking care of my part of the parenting duties. Multitasking at its finest.”
Jimmy shook his head, laughing.
“You two are the epitome of modern parenthood. Drew, do you moonlight as a carpenter now?”
Drew smirked. “Not yet, but give me a few more months of parenting, and I’ll be building treehouses.”
The audience laughed again, and Jimmy leaned back in his chair.
“Okay, last question: How do you balance it all? Filming, parenting, being a couple; what’s the secret?”
You exchanged a glance with Drew before answering.
“Honestly, communication is everything. We make sure to check in with each other and divide responsibilities as evenly as possible.”
“And coffee,” Drew added. “Lots of coffee.”
Jimmy nodded sagely. “Coffee and communication. Words to live by.”
The interview wrapped up with more laughs, and even a clip from Against All Odds. As the applause filled the studio, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the life you and Drew had built on and off the screen. together.
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uniiiquehecrt · 10 months ago
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Hiya! 😘✹ Thank you so much for the addition! It's always a pleasure to see my THOR posts getting some love, and I appreciate your interaction with this and my other meta! :D I hope you don't mind if I respond in turn!
I feel I should point out that the original post was one meant to showcase simply that Thor is a smart, clever, serious and dynamic character. One that is a far cry from an idiot, and one that is certainly not a "himbo" or "jock" movie stereotype as Dir. Ta*ika Wai.ti/ti, his fans and many of the overall MCU!Avengers fandom (or outsiders to the fandom tbh.) tend to boil him down to.
Those claims are simply unsubstantiated, and grossly incorrect.
(And insulting to Thor and Thor fans. It is beyond irritating.)
The post you responded to and its subsequent replies are meant only to defend that original point, as what the replies it has been met with are usually some defense as to why some MCU fans think it is okay to mischaracterize, and ultimately insult a beloved character and his fans to such a demeaning degree.
As it stands, there is no excuse to mischaracterize Thor's intelligence and integrity as a hero, king/prince, leader, and Avenger. In general. And certainly not even within the text of his own canon appearances. Hence: why the post points out where the definition is unequivocally incorrect. So, while I of course am always delighted by friendly debate on the matter, I do fear that any commentary that continues to debate with me the validity of "why" people call one brother dumb and the other smart is ... entirely missing the point. There is no excuse for that. Period. it is mean-spirited, and fans of Thor are entirely allowed and within their right to point this out, and defend the matter.
As it stands, what you are getting at is another subject matter entirely, and while I do not want this discussion to override the original post and its intentions, I do feel this is worth addressing. Especially since ... you are correct only in that this is a common point of contention in the Thor franchise's fandom.
I want to preface by saying this: I am a brodinsons fan. While I do love and value Thor quite deeply, I also love and appreciate Loki. I always have. I love his arc throughout the MCU (phases 1-3), and I've always found him to be an interesting, dynamic character. ...Within his canon, anyways.
That said: there are a lot of "Loki Fans" out there that, as the original replied-tags said, and as you continue to say, feel the need to tear Thor down to build Loki up.
I simply do not agree with this line of thought. Nor do I see it as an understandable justification.
To be entirely frank with you, my friend, my personal perspective is this: if diehard Loki fans feel the need to tear another character down just to feel justified and/or build their own favorite character up, then I would imagine that they don't have any confidence in Loki's abilities in the first place. And that is a shame. I don't understand that either.
saying they’re equal in this area really just means there’s nothing loki excels past Thor at
Off the top of my head, without looking at movie reference, here are seven interesting/cool things that Loki does on his own credentials:
Mastered Asgardian Sorcery as a Frost Giant, to the point of being known as the greatest Sorcerer in all of Asgard.
Mastered a loose capacity of "Bifrost" magic, thus finding found pathways between worlds, and being able to glamour himself from Heimdall's all-seeing eyes.
Mastered wielding the Destroyer, Gungnir, the Casket of Eternal Winters all with no on-screen training.
Is known to have a silvertongue, and uses his wits and guile to get in and out of most situations.
Wielded two infinity stones at the same time.
Mastered the ice pick grip with his daggers, and can defeat 4 opponents in quick succession while surrounded.
Enchanted Odin All-Father for 4 years.
As you can see, at no point did I have to bring up Thor, or tear down his intelligence and feats to praise Loki's. Nor did it at all "sting" to do so.
I'm actually quite proud of him, and to that end, I will point out that not only is Thor, as you said, one of the few who do not see Loki as inferior to himself, but he is also very much aware of his brother's strengths, and actively goes out of his way to utilize, and otherwise work in tandem with Loki's skills.
Thor allows Loki to (initially) spearhead efforts to convince Heimdall to let himself and the Warriors get to Jotunheim. (He only stops Loki when Heimdall makes it clear that Loki's lies won't work.) / THOR (2011)
Thor believes in Loki and their brotherhood so much that he was going to ask Loki (if not outright asks him) to "find a way" to stop the Asgardian/Jotunheim war and find a loophole to bring Thor home to Asgard after his banishment. / THOR (2011)
Thor seeks Loki out to break free from Asgard during lockdown. / THOR: THE DARK WORLD (2013)
Thor actively works alongside Loki's illusions and trusts him to keep his word in their combined effort to destroy the Aether on Svartalfheim. / THOR: THE DARK WORLD (2013)
Thor actively tries to ask Loki for help when he is abducted in Sakaar, and seeks his help in finding a ship to leave the planet. / THOR: RAGNAROK (2017)
Thor actively utilizes Loki's speed, quick-thinking and single minded ambition to raise Surtur on Asgard. / THOR: RAGNAROK (2017)
There are definitely more examples, but these are the ones I can easily reference off the top of my head.
For a character whose main storyline revolves around his angst and heartbreak over desperately wanting to be equal to Thor and always coming up short
. Yeah it just feels a little cold to point out the obvious.
Barring the fact that the "obvious" in question is quite literally just myself pointing out, and I quote: "Loki can't easily outwit Thor either." (I would recommend that you do please read the post again), it is hardly "cold" to do so. It is an objective truth. He cannot easily outwit Thor. They grew up together. Thor knows him better than anyone else, and he certainly knows when Loki is lying to him. Especially when Loki has done nothing but lie and betray him throughout the course of THOR, AVENGERS, and DARK WORLD. It is unfortunate that Thor learned that Loki would turn against him, but it is an unfortunate truth that Thor grew to contend with, and had begun to respond to by becoming justifiably wary of him.
A huge part of Loki’s character is that he’s seen as, [...] Thor’s second fiddle.
I'll touch more on the rest of this point of yours below, but to this end: I disagree with your implication that this makes Loki unimportant. First of all, the second fiddle is a supporting role, and that can be an incredibly integral part. (See: the above six points of Thor actively seeking Loki out, for context.) In an orchestra at least (something I have personal experience with), the second chair violin is not any less important than the first chair violins just because second chair doesn't necessarily always get to play the melody. (Also, usually the melody switches between the entire orchestra, so to say that the second violins don't get a chance to shine alongside the group is false. Yes, this metaphor applies to Loki.)
Secondly, Loki is not a joke to Thor or to anyone else in their universe anyways.
You say that the Warriors only like Thor better, but within the context of the overall discussion, it sounds more like the implication is a misunderstanding that the Warriors wholly dislike him. I don't want to put words into your mouth, so let us presumptively agree that there is at least a presumptive claim within the overall Loki fanbase that this may have been the case. (Being that the Warriors dislike or were not friends with Loki.) I would disagree with that sentiment either way. Or at least I would before Loki's (perceived) insurrection of the throne, followed by Thor's death (the Destroyer), and his attack on Earth (New Mexico and New York), — all of which are very unlikeable things by the way. But I digress on that point to point out what you do neglect to admit overall: the Warriors would not have been concerned about Loki's betrayal if they were not fully aware of, and hold an equal amount of respect for Loki's guile and capabilities.
If they did not first consider him a powerful ally, then they would not consider him a powerful, potential enemy.
And so, to then justify this ... rather envious lens to such retrospection, the stated:
Loki [...] feels like Thor's second fiddle. [...] For a character whose main storyline revolves around his angst and heartbreak over desperately wanting to be equal to Thor and always coming up short [...]
Also falls flat to me.
Just because Loki feels this way does not mean it is true. People - and especially characters - can wholeheartedly believe something that is entirely a misunderstanding or a fabrication. The feeling may be a valid one, but that does not make it correct in any capacity.
When Loki says "I only ever wanted to be your equal!", he means that he wanted to work alongside Thor. He also means that he wanted to be as beloved/popular as Thor.
But if Loki stopped focusing on Thor and what Thor can do that Loki cannot, Loki would find that he was liked by the people he thought dislike him, is capable of a great many things that are unique to himself, and that all of these skills work in tandem with and in favor of Thor, and thus make Loki Thor's equal already. He would also find that Thor has already known this, and has always acted upon this. In this matter, Thor's greatest shortcoming has only ever been that he simply thought this was an obvious fact that Loki already knew. (Note: "greatest", not "only". His impulsive and short temper are flaws too.)
More than that: Loki and Thor are allies and brothers who love one another fiercely. To pit one against the other is entirely a fool's errand, and frankly the entire point of their story in the MCU. They are better together. Tearing them apart only causes misery for themselves and others.
Lastly, I would like to end my part of the discussion by pointing out one thing.
Thor beats him in every category. The only thing Loki fans really have to cling to is Loki’s undeniable cleverness.
Let's ignore the fact that I brought up seven things that can be pointed to in Loki's favor.
I simply do not see why it is that Loki needs to have anything to "beat" Thor in, in the first place. Truly, I cannot understand the logic behind a sentiment like that. Why should Loki be compared to anyone else other than himself and his own actions? And why should Thor and Thor fans be made to feel badly about Thor's own strengths?
They are two completely different people with different strengths and weaknesses. One is street-smart (Thor) and the other is book-smart (Loki), and there are times and places for either one of those strengths to shine.
So when you say:
Loki [...] is Thor's second fiddle.
Whether or not Loki is capable of the same sheer amount of powerful destruction as Thor is entirely besides the point in any discussion about either Loki or Thor. Thor is a royal Asgardian. He far surpasses every normal Asgardian and any "mortal" aliens, like humans. Even superpowered humans. In the MCU, Thor is on par with other aliens like Thanos (a Titan). His only rivals are the other royal Asgardians who wielded parts of the All-Force that now only he wields. They were both incredibly strong, and now they're both dead. And the kicker is that Thor is still growing.
So, at no point has anyone expected Loki to output the same amount of sheer might as Thor. (If anything they only seem to judge him based on their culture's view of honor and glory. Something that Loki does not adhere to in the same way as the rest of them, but something that Thor constantly learns and grows to appreciate about him.)
Not to again mention that they are two completely different alien species. Not only that, but again, Thor in particular is a special breed of said different alien species. Yet Loki still manages to keep up with Thor in almost every capacity. Something that not even the Warriors can do.
Thor has super-strength? So does Loki. Thor is as quick as lightning? Loki is even faster. Thor has the All-Force? Loki mastered sorcery and some bifrost magic. Thor is a tank and an aggressive first and last line of defense? Loki makes himself Thor's perfect ace up his sleeve for when things go awry. Thor is a capable commander? Loki can think outside of the box. Thor has the strength of every imaginable storm at his fingertips? Loki knows exactly what to say and what to do to bridle it when Thor's impulsiveness gets the better of him, or otherwise add to the chaos.
Loki is Thor's equal and he always has been. They were meant to rule together, and for a very good reason.
Were I to say anything to the Loki fans who feel this way, it would be this:
Your love of your character, and your pride in his feats are already valid just by having them. You do not need to look to outside sources for "justification" in why you love him. Nor why you may favor him over Thor. Just as Thor may simply be to one fan's taste more so than Loki or one of the other Avengers, so too can Loki simply be your favorite without any other pretense to it, and I promise you that is a perfectly fine enough reason on its own. He's a complex character, a fantastic villain and anti-hero, and, yes, he is capable of great things. At no point do you need to be envious of Thor or any other character just because of what Loki can or cannot do.
Do not do your own favorite a disservice by comparing him to anyone other than himself.
But if you insist on comparing Loki to anyone else, then I would implore you to start thinking less about what Loki cannot do that Thor can do, and more about what Loki can do that nobody else can BECAUSE he can do it standing alongside Thor in the first place.
If Thor is the "golden standard", and Loki is his equal and opposite force, then it is far more intriguing to consider, then, all of the many ways in which Loki can define himself and surpass nigh any obstacle simply because he is the brother of Thor.
You’re absolutely 100% correct about all of this, but I feel like just adding perspective on why people so often fall into the trap of ‘Loki smart, Thor dumb’.
Listen. A huge part of Loki’s character is that he’s seen as, feels, and is Thor’s second fiddle. Through no fault of Thor’s own (ok maybe a tiny bit of fault with the “know your place” line etc in Thor 1. Oop.)- in fact I think Thor is one of the few people in Asgard that doesn’t necessarily see Loki as inferior to himself. But like it or not, Loki is inferior to him.
He’s physically weaker (not by a lot, but still), he’s far less popular with the asgardian people, their friend group likes him way less, and even their father clearly favors Thor. Even as far as magic is concerned- the one area that’s always seen as Loki’s thing- well
. to be honest, up until the series, Thor’s magical feats have been waaay more impressive than Loki’s. Thor beats him in every category. The only thing Loki fans really have to cling to is Loki’s undeniable cleverness.
Like yes, of course Thor is also very intelligent, and of course he’s very cunning in his own right
 but this is the only possible area where Loki might be a little better than him. And to have it pointed out that actually, canonically, Loki isn’t more clever than Thor. They are, in fact, equal
 well that stings a little, you know?
Because saying they’re equal in this area really just means there’s nothing loki excels past Thor at. And for a character whose main storyline revolves around his angst and heartbreak over desperately wanting to be equal to Thor and always coming up short
. Yeah it just feels a little cold to point out the obvious.
That’s not to say you’re wrong! They really are pretty evenly matched smarts-wise and Thor definitely isn’t anywhere near as stupid as fans want him to be. I just think there’s a reason Loki fans are so vocal about him supposedly being the “smart one” lol.
#&&. thor.#&&. | marvel. |#&&. whispers.#musclesandhammering#(the following statements are not directeted at /you/ musclesandhammering btw !!! merely some closing informal thoughts)#(if anyone's response is to continue arguing the idea that loki fans are justified in tearing another character down to build theirs up)#(i would hate to say it but that is /not/ welcome here.)#(while i am all for discussion this is not a matter in which that sort of thinking is ever justified no matter the reasonings behind it)#(in the very least i would much rather you then take your discussions/responses to my askbox and link this post to it)#(-so in that way I may respond to your questions and concerns without further cluttering a post whose point was already-)#(-hijacked by point of views that clearly never appreciated or wholly understood the point of the matter in the first place.)#(which isn't meant as me throwing shade ... contrary to how that sounds...)#(but truly it is mind-boggling to me that the automatic defense/argument became “but loki is smart too! and even smarter than thor!!”)#(when all i said was that Thor is not a /himbo/ and that other Thor fans and I are absolutely at our ////wit's end////)#(with people - EVEN THOSE WHO DON'T WATCH THE MCU - trying to say he's stupid and ignorant when he /is not/ has /never been/.)#(initially loki hadn't even been a part of the post. and if he was it certainly wasn't to compare smart to smart. he was only brought up-)#(-specifically when it was mentioned that Loki is smart and Thor is dumb. In which case need I repeat myself thus: -)#(/Loki cannot easily outwit Thor either/.)#(do you not understand that by saying as much I am /actively praising Loki/ for his feats by saying Thor has /learned from him/)#(when it comes to thor being smart he is able to keep up with booksmart master of the silvertongue and asgardian sorcery Loki)#(and most importantly: stop comparing two completely different characters just to make yourself feel better that's wholly inappropriate....#(...this is again not directed at /you/ specifically musclesandhammering. more in general.)
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all4yoi · 3 months ago
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𝒯he 𝒟addy 𝒟iaries
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!? . . ★ 𝓕inding 𝓞ut — the moment they find out you're pregnant and how they react.
âžč enhypen hyungline x fem!reader ✩ cw: pregnancy, suggestive themes (sex mentioned), crying, slight angst, fluff, cringe cringe PLSS IDK let me redeem myself to the upcoming prompts.. not proofread!!
✩ taglist: open! send an ask — SERIES MASTERLIST
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LEE HEESEUNG
It was practically like a tradition ever since you married Heeseung, that you would take a pregnancy test every month. It's not like you two were trying really hard to have a baby, if it turns out negative then that's that, and if it's positive, then..
Actually the thought of being pregnant was starting to be impossible for you. It has been 8 months since you've been married and all those tests turned negative. So, now that you look at the test with two lines, you stand in shock.
"Baby? You've been in there for a while." Your husband's voice comes from the other side of the closed bathroom door. Taking the test in your hand, you open the door to be met with Heeseung's towering figure.
He looks at you in confusion, his gaze averting from your face to the test on your hands. His eyes widens a bit, shakily taking the test from you. When he sees the two lines, he lets out a happy laugh, embracing you.
"You're pregnant?!" He exclaims in joy, pulling away but keeping you close. You nod with a smile as small happy tears form in your tear ducts. "Oh baby, I love you so much. Thank you." Heeseung says with a crack, his own tears flowing down his cheeks.
PARK JONGSEONG
"I think we should go see a doctor, baby." Jay says in worry as he rubs your back while you're hunched over the toilet and pour your guts out. You shake your head, wiping your mouth as you sit back up.
"I think it's the chicken last night we ordered." You say weakly and openly welcome Jay's embrace.
"If it were, then I'd be pouring my guts out every morning too baby." He sighs, helping you up your feet and helping you in brushing your teeth. "I'm texting Dr. Choi right now, go change okay? I'm getting you checked." Jay kissed your temple before exiting the bathroom, leaving no room for arguments.
The drive to the hospital was quiet, you still weren't feeling good and Jay was too worried to disturb your moment of peace.
"Sorry for the question, but are you two sexually active?" Dr. Choi asked. You look confused but nod nonetheless. "Yes, but it has been weeks since we last had sex."
Dr. Choi nods, "I see, in the urine sample we tested, it detected hCG which means you're pregnant for 6 weeks Mrs. Park. We can discuss your next steps when you're ready."
You exhale heavily, looking up at Jay who was beside you.
"Jay.." said man embraces you gently, nodding at the doctor who now left the room. "We can do whatever you want baby, choice is all yours. I love you no matter what your decision will be."
SIM JAEYUN
"This is ridiculous." You mutter as you wait for the pregnancy test. Currently, your girl friends were over at your apartment for a girls night out and they decided it was a fun idea to have you use the pregnancy test that Ningning found in her older sister's drawer.
When your phone alarms signaling the end of the 5 minutes, you flip the pregnancy test without a care, but the words "Pregnant" on it makes you freeze.
Ningning and Karina bursts inside the bathroom after hearing the alarm but their smiles drop as soon as they see your red eyes. "Y/N.."
You shook your head, fisting your hair in your hands. "No, my parents will kill me. Jake can't know." You cry and your friends embrace you.
"Atleast let Jake know.. he deserves to know too you know?" Karina mutters, brushing the strands of your hair out of your face. "No, no.." You cry harder.
You were too busy crying and your friends comforting you that no one noticed the footsteps coming in the room.
"Hey, what's happening?" Jake's voice makes your sobs halt.
"Um, we'll uh, we'll leave you two to talk." Ningning says as she pats your back before leaving the room with Karina.
Jake's brows furrows at your state before he approaches you slowly, bringing you to his chest and resting his cheek on the top of your head. "Shh, you're fine now. What happened while I was gone, lovely?"
Your silence worries him even more but when his gaze averts to the sink counter and sees the pregnancy test, he squeezes you tighter. His own tears forming on his eyes.
"I got you, 'm not going anywhere. Shh."
PARK SUNGHOON
"Whatever it shows, you know I'll still love you right?" Sunghoon whispers as he gazes at you with full of love. You and Sunghoon have been married for 2 years now and have been trying for a baby for almost a year.
All tests turned negative and you were starting to think that you were the problem. You promised yourself that if this test turns negative once more, you'll finally visit the doctor for tests.
"You turn it." You shakily whisper, keeping yourself buried on your husband's bare chest. Sunghoon does as he's told and turns the test around with shaking fingers. The sight of two lines makes him breath out shakily.
"Oh my God, baby." He says as he hugs you tight, tears flowing down and wetting your shoulder. His reaction tells you everything and you laugh in joy while your own tears cascades down your cheeks.
Sunghoon kisses you, pouring all his love in the kiss while your tears mixes with his. When he pulls away, he keeps your foreheads connected, his lips pulled in a big smile.
"I love you, we did it baby."
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taglist! ( bold can't be tagged )— @stawberri @saphiranishimurashan @strxwbloody @heesexual74 @jooniesbears-blog @ayablogsblog @teddybeartaetae @gandaengene @snowprincehoon
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hamadisthings · 11 months ago
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HELP US STOP CHAT CONTROL!
If you live in the EU, you absolutely need to pay attention to what's to come. What is Chat Control, you may ask? In a (failed) attempt to combat child abuse online the EU made Chat Control, Chat Control will result in getting your private messages and emails to be scanned by artificial intelligence aka AI to search for CSAM pictures or discussion that might have grooming in there. And on top of having your private conversations handed to AI or the police to snoop in, like your family pictures, selfies, or more sensitive pics, like the medical kind, only meant to be seen by your doctors, or the "flirtatious" kind you send to your partner, you either have to ACCEPT to be scanned...or else you will be forbidden from sending pictures, videos, or even links, as said here.
Kids should absolutely be protected online, without question, but the things that Chat Control gets wrong is that this is a blatant violation of privacy, without even considering the fact that AI WILL create tons of false positives, this is not a theory, this is a fact. And for all the false positives that will be detected, all of them will be sent to the police, which will just flood their system with useless junk instead of efficiently putting resources to actual protect kids from predators.
It also does not help that politicians, police officers, soldiers etc will be exempt from Chat Control if it passes. If it's for the sake of protection, shouldn't everyone get the same treatment? Which further prove that Chat Control would NOT keep your data of private life safe. Plus, bad actors will simply stop using messenger apps as soon as they know they're being tracked, using more obscure means, meanwhile innocent people will be punished by using those services On top of this, the EU also plans on reintroducing Data retention called "EU Going Dark". Both Chat Control and EU Going Dark are clear violation of the GDPR, and even if they shouldn't stand a chance in court, its not going to prevent politicians from trying to ram these through as an excuse to mass surveil European citizens, using kids as a shield. Even teenagers sending pictures to each other won't be exempt, which entirely goes against the purpose of protecting kids by retaining their private photos instead. Furthermore, once messaging apps are forced to comply with Chat Control, the president of Signal, a secured messaging app with encryption, have confirmed that they will be forced to leave the EU if this is enforced against them.
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If Chat Control also ends up targeting any websites with the option of private messages, you better expect Europe to be geo-blocked by any websites offering such function. I would also like to add that EU citizens were very vocal in the fight against KOSA, an equally bad internet bill from the US-- and it showed! Which is why we heavily need the help of our fellow US peers to fight against Chat Control too, so please, because we all know if it passes, the US government will take a look at this and conclude "Ooh, a way to force mass surveillance on citizens even more than before? don't mind if I do!" It's always a snowball effect.
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KEEP IN MIND THE EUROPE COUNCIL WILL LIKELY VOTE ON CHAT CONTROL THIS 19 JUNE OF NEXT WEEK TO SEE IF IT WILL ENTER TRILOGIES OR NOT. Even if it does enter Trilogues, the fight will only be beginning. Absentees may not count as a no, so it is crucial that you contact your MEPs HERE, as well as HERE, and you can also show your support for Edri's campaign against Chat Control HERE.
You can read more on Chat Control here as well, and you can find useful information as to which arguments to use when politely contacting your MEP (calling is better than email) here, and beneath you will find graphics you can use to spread the word!
YOU CAN ALSO JOIN OUR DISCORD SERVER (linked here) TO HELP ORGANIZE AGAINST CHAT CONTROL NON EU PEOPLE ARE MORE THAN WELCOME TO JOIN TOO!
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https://discord.gg/FPDJYkUujM
PLEASE REBLOG ! NON EU PEOPLE ARE ENCOURAGED TO REBLOG AS WELL CONTACT YOUTUBERS, CONTENT CREATORS, ANYONE YOU KNOW THAT MAY HELP GET THE WORD OUT ! Let's fight for our Internet and actually keep kids safe online! Because Chat Control and EU Going Dark will only endanger kids.
PLEASE REBLOG! NON EU PEOPLE ARE ENCOURAGED TO REBLOG AS WELL CONTACT YOUTUBERS, CONTENT CREATORS, ANYONE YOU KNOW THAT MAY HELP GET THE WORD OUT !
Let's fight for our Internet and actually keep kids safe online! Because Chat Control and EU Going Dark will only endanger kids.
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cressidagrey · 23 days ago
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White Horse - Chapter 8: October 2023
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)
Summary:
Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.
She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.
But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.
Warnings and Notes: 
we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Discussions of toxic past relationships, talk about loosing a childhood pet, toxic families...I think that's it?
As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble
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Max wasn’t someone who forgot how to be an adult.
He was a World Champion. He kept a strict training regimen, remembered which hand luggage worked best for long-haul flights, and could navigate a grid penalty strategy like it was second nature. He wasn’t helpless—not at the track, not at home.
But still, there was something quietly astonishing about how easy his life had become since Isabelle moved in.
It started off small.
After the first race weekend they spent apart post-move, he came home expecting the usual chaos—half-unpacked suitcase, laundry to do, a fridge with maybe one sad yogurt and some questionable cheese.
Instead?
His suitcase was already unpacked. Laundry sorted and in the wash. There was a folded stack of clean gym clothes on the bed, and a small sticky note on the bathroom mirror in Isabelle’s tidy handwriting:
Welcome home. You did great. There’s soup in the fridge and the cats missed you.
He’d blinked at it for a solid minute before laughing quietly and thinking, Huh. That’s new.
But it didn’t stop there. 
By the third race weekend, it had become a rhythm. The fridge was magically stocked with all the foods he craved after long travel days—cut mango, chocolate granola, oat milk, the fancy yogurt he’d once mentioned liking. 
His sim racing gear? Charged and ready before he even thought to use it. A small corner of the closet had somehow become better organized than Red Bull’s race strategy board.
She started refilling his supplements without saying a word. She pre-scheduled his haircuts, left Post-Its on the mirror when he needed to sign something for the team, and quietly placed noise-canceling earplugs in his carry-on.
And she worked. Isabelle had a full-time job. Not a desk job where she could casually scroll through her phone or delegate her way through the day—she was an architect, doing interiors, managing clients, deadlines, contractors. Max had seen her calendar. It looked like someone had lost a game of Tetris.
And somehow—somehow—she still remembered to order new toothpaste before they ran out. Or add his vitamins to the grocery list. Or restock the snack drawer in his sim room without ever saying a word.
It wasn’t flashy. She didn’t make announcements about it. She just did it, quietly and efficiently, like she always had.
It wasn’t until Max found himself halfway through folding his laundry before realizing he hadn’t had to fold laundry in over a month that the realization hit him fully:
Isabelle had spent most of her life running in the background of other people’s chaos.
He’d seen it before, on the edges of Leclerc family race weekends. Isabelle, the sister who stayed back to make sure Arthur had the right tie packed, or that Charles had signed the right forms. The one who found a florist for Lorenzo thirty minutes before an event, or remembered which water bottle brand their mother liked for travel.
She had always been the quiet buffer.
The fixer.
The forgotten problem-solver.
And now
 she was doing it for him.
Not because he expected it. He didn’t. He’d told her repeatedly he could handle himself. But Isabelle wasn’t someone who waited to be asked. She anticipated, gently rearranged the world around her people, and made their lives easier before they even noticed they were stressed.
He found her that night curled up on the sofa, hair damp from the shower, laptop open with her architectural renders glowing softly against her face. She was eating grapes and typing one-handed, her legs tucked under her like always.
“You know,” Max said, dropping onto the couch beside her, “I haven’t had to do a single thing since I got home.”
Isabelle didn’t look up. “What do you mean?”
“I mean
 I haven’t done laundry. My flights are in my calendar. My snack drawer is mysteriously refilled. I have socks again. And coffee. And peace.”
She blinked, paused her typing, and smiled. “It’s really not that much.”
“It is,” Max said gently. “You work ten hours a day and somehow still run this apartment like it’s an F1 garage. I don’t know how you do it.”
She shrugged a little, looking sheepish. “I like doing it. I like making things easier for the people I love.” 
“Do your brothers ever thank you?”
She hesitated. “I don’t think they realize half of what I do,” she admitted drily. 
Max nodded slowly. “Well, I notice. Every little thing. You don’t have to do it all, but when you do
 I see it. And I’m grateful. Really.”
Her smile wavered just a little, like something fragile cracked open inside her chest.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I
 I’m not used to hearing that.”
Max pulled her laptop from her lap, set it gently on the coffee table, and tugged her into his arms.
Max cupped her cheek, thumb brushing just under her eye. “I see it now. All of it. Every time you notice something before I do. Every time you put something away or refill something I didn’t even realize was empty. You’ve made this place feel like home.”
She smiled softly. “That’s what love is, isn’t it?”
***
Leclerc Sibling Group Chat
(Members: Arthur, Isabelle, Charles and Lorenzo) 
Arthur: I’M SCREWED.
Lorenzo: Again?
Charles: What now?
Arthur: I FORGOT MY ANNIVERSARY.
Charles: 

Lorenzo: 

Charles: You absolute moron.
Lorenzo: You have ONE job.
Arthur: HELP ME.
Charles: Help you??? Maybe try remembering important dates next time?
Lorenzo: Yeah, I don’t really see how this is our problem.
Arthur: ISABELLE. SAVE ME.
Isabelle: What kind of dinner does she like?
Arthur: She likes Italian? And wine? And
 romantic lighting?
Isabelle: 
Do you know anything about your girlfriend?
Arthur: I KNOW I LOVE HER AND I DON’T WANT HER TO DUMP ME.
Isabelle: Right. I’ll take care of it.
Arthur: YOU’RE A HERO.
(20 minutes later)
Isabelle: You have a reservation at La Chùvre d'Or at 8 PM. I also ordered that perfume she keeps in her bag and had it gift-wrapped. It’ll be at your place in an hour.
Lorenzo: Oh, while you’re at it, what should I get my girlfriend for her birthday?
Isabelle: Jewelry. She’s been eyeing those gold earrings from Cartier.
Lorenzo: You’re actually a genius.
(Several hours later)
Isabelle: You’re welcome, by the way.
Arthur: Huh?
Lorenzo: For what?
***
Max was still buzzing with adrenaline when he finally stepped into his apartment, championship celebrations still ringing in his ears. The moment he closed the door behind him, silence settled over him like a warm blanket, the contrast almost jarring after the chaos of the paddock.
And then he saw her.
Isabelle was curled up on the couch, one of the cats nestled beside her, a book resting open in her lap. She must’ve heard him come in because she looked up immediately, her expression softening.
“Hey,” she said, setting the book aside. “How does it feel?”
Max huffed out a breath, toeing off his shoes and crossing the room in a few quick steps. “Like I need you,” he muttered, dropping onto the couch beside her and pulling her into his arms.
She let out a quiet laugh but didn’t resist, settling against his chest as his arms tightened around her. “That exhausting, huh?”
He buried his face in her shoulder. “So many people. So much noise. This is better.”
Her fingers threaded through his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. “You did just win your third world title. Kind of a big deal.”
He smirked against her skin. “Mm. They wouldn’t shut up about it.”
“Annoying, really,” she teased.
He pulled back just enough to look at her. The soft glow from the nearby lamp illuminated her features, her eyes filled with something quiet and fond.
“You should’ve been there,” he murmured, brushing his fingers along her jaw.
She sighed, shaking her head. “You know why I wasn’t.”
He did. She wasn’t ready for the cameras, the attention, the inevitable questions. And he would never push her into something she wasn’t comfortable with.
But fuck, he wished she had been there.
Still, she had waited up for him. She was here. That was enough.
His thumb traced slow circles over her hip as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You watched?”
“Of course.” She smiled. “You were incredible.”
His chest tightened at the quiet sincerity in her voice. He’d spent the entire night surrounded by people telling him how great he was, how historic his achievement was. But this—hearing it from her—meant more than any of it.
He let out a long breath, finally starting to feel the exhaustion creeping in. “Come to bed with me?”
She nodded, taking his hand as they stood. As they made their way toward the bedroom, one of the cats darted ahead of them, already claiming Max’s pillow.
Isabelle laughed. “Looks like you’re not the only champion in this house.”
Max just smiled, pulling her close again as they climbed into bed. “Doesn’t matter. I already have everything I want.”
They settled into bed, limbs tangled, warmth shared beneath soft blankets. The city was quiet outside the windows. The adrenaline was finally ebbing.
And then, just as the stillness settled, Isabelle spoke.
“You never ask,” she said quietly.
“Ask what?”
“Why I haven’t told them.”
She didn’t have to specify who them was.
Max exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. It wasn’t that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. He had wondered—more than once—why she still kept their relationship a secret, why she hadn’t told her brothers, her mother, anyone. But he had never pushed.
“Do you want to tell them?” he asked carefully.
Isabelle was quiet for a long moment. Then, finally, she looked up at him, her gaze steady.
“No.”
Max blinked. That wasn’t the answer he had been expecting.
She sighed, shifting so she was facing him fully. “It’s not because I’m ashamed of you. Or because I don’t care.” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “It’s because you’re important to me.”
His breath hitched slightly, but he stayed quiet, letting her continue.
“My whole life, I’ve felt like I had to fight to be noticed. To be heard. And with my family, it’s always been about Charles. About Arthur. About Lorenzo. I love them, but—sometimes, it feels like I’m just a shadow in their lives.” She swallowed. “I didn’t want you to be part of that. I didn’t want us to become something that gets brushed aside, just another footnote in their world.”
Max’s jaw tightened. He had seen the way her family overlooked her, how they spoke over her, how they forgot things that should have mattered. And now, hearing it from her directly, it made something inside him ache.
“So you kept us just for you,” he murmured.
She nodded. “Just for me.”
Max reached out, his fingers threading through hers. “I don’t mind,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “If you want to wait. Whatever you decide—I just want to be with you.”
She squeezed his hand, and he lifted it to press a kiss against her knuckles, his lips lingering there for a moment.
“I hope you know,” he added quietly, “that you’ll never be a shadow to me.”
A small, wobbly smile tugged at her lips, and she leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.
“I know,” she whispered.
Max let the words settle between them, his grip on Isabelle’s hand firm but gentle. He could feel the warmth of her fingers, the slight tremble she tried to hide. He had never truly understood what it felt like to be overlooked—his entire life had been under a spotlight, from karting to Formula 1. But Isabelle? She had spent years fading into the background of her own family’s story.
And yet, here she was, choosing to keep him separate from all of that. Not because she was hiding him, but because she wanted something that was only hers.
He squeezed her hand lightly. “You know,” he said, voice softer than usual, “I’d never let them brush you aside. If they knew about us.”
She let out a quiet breath, her eyes flickering down to where their hands were intertwined. “I know,” she admitted. “But that’s not what I’m afraid of.”
Max frowned. “Then what is it?”
She hesitated, then sat up a little straighter, pulling one knee up to her chest. “If I tell them about us,” she said slowly, “it changes things. Not just for me, but for you. For us.” She exhaled. “Suddenly, I won’t just be Isabelle anymore. I’ll be ‘Max Verstappen’s girlfriend.’ And to them, that will mean something.”
He stayed quiet, letting her put her thoughts into words.
“They’ll look at me differently. Maybe they’ll suddenly start paying attention, maybe they’ll act like I matter more just because you matter. And I don’t want that.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she pushed forward. “I don’t want their attention just because of who I’m with. I want them to see me.”
Max felt something twist in his chest. He had never thought of it like that. To him, she had always been important. But her family? They had overlooked her for so long, and she didn’t want their sudden interest to be because of him.
“You think they’d only start noticing you because of my name,” he said quietly.
Isabelle gave him a small, sad smile. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s only cared because of who you are.”
That stung. Because she was right. He had seen it time and time again—people wanting to be close to him because of what he could offer, not because of who he was. The idea that her own family might finally pay attention to her for the same reason made his jaw tighten.
“Belle.” He turned to face her fully, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “I don’t care how long we keep this just between us. But don’t ever think for a second that I don’t see you. That I don’t love you for exactly who you are.”
Her breath caught, and he saw the way her eyes widened slightly. He hadn’t said it before—not like this. Maybe he should have waited for a different moment, something more planned, more perfect. But she deserved to hear it now.
She swallowed hard. “Max.”
“I mean it,” he said, his voice steady. “I love you, Isabelle. And it has nothing to do with your last name, or your family, or anything else. Just you.”
Her lips parted slightly, and for a moment, she just looked at him—like she was trying to memorize him, like she was searching for any trace of hesitation. She wouldn’t find any.
Then, finally, she let out a shaky breath and leaned in, pressing her forehead against his. “I love you too,” she whispered, so soft he almost didn’t hear it.
But he did. And that was all that mattered.
***
The shift had started quietly.
Snide comments. Backhanded compliments. Passive exclusion from group meetings she used to lead. Isabelle’s project folders were “misplaced,” her samples “forgotten,” and her renderings were somehow always “accidentally deleted.”
But by now it was blatant.
Last week, she’d walked into the break room and found her concept sketches tossed into the trash beside half-eaten croissants.
Today, someone had keyed in over her CAD file—over it, not on a copy—and added a caption across the top of the screen in bold red text:
“Thanks, nepotism. We’ll take it from here.”
Isabelle stared at it for a long time, her stomach turning.
The worst part was that no one tried to hide it anymore.
When she glanced around the office, no one made eye contact. No one looked guilty. They just went on with their day like she was background noise.
Like she hadn’t worked twice as hard. Stayed twice as late. Fought for every inch of credibility.
 Like Max’s penthouse had erased everything she’d ever done before it.
She backed away from her desk, air thick in her lungs, and walked straight to the glass-enclosed materials library. Closed the door. Pressed her back against it.
Breathed.
You live in peace, she reminded herself. You wake up next to Max. This doesn’t get to break you.
But it did hurt.
She didn’t cry—she wouldn’t give them that. But her throat ached with all the things she couldn’t say.
***
Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie
Isabelle: Okay I’m officially done. I just had the worst day and I need to get out of my own head.
Emilie:  What happened?? Are you okay?
Isabelle: Just
 work stuff. People not listening. Clients who think Pinterest means they’re architects now. And my colleague took credit for something I spent three weeks on.
Emilie: I will start swinging.
Isabelle: Please do. Preferably with one of those cartoonishly large handbags.
Emilie: Already packed one. Where are we going?
Isabelle: Let’s go shopping this afternoon? I still haven’t bought birthday presents for Charles and Arthur, and if I stay in this office any longer I’ll start crying over the wrong throw pillow.
Emilie: Say no more. I’ll pick you up in 30. You can buy emotionally motivated gifts and I can be your moral support/human espresso.
Isabelle: You’re my favorite person.
Emilie: I know. And I’m dragging you to get cake after. No arguments.
***
Alexandra had only come in to browse.
The gallery had been quiet all morning, the kind of rainy-day lull that left her restless, so she’d taken a walk, turned a corner, and ducked into a tucked-away boutique that specialized in little luxuries—silk scarves, handmade ceramics, niche perfumes. The kind of place you didn’t go to with intention, just curiosity.
She was halfway to a display of glass jewelry trays when she heard a familiar voice.
“Alex?” 
She turned—and blinked.
“Emilie?”
The other woman—sleek dark coat, sunglasses perched in her hair, a woven tote filled with rolled linen and a jar of fig jam—smiled.
“I thought that was you,” Emilie said, her voice warm but always laced with sharpness, like she couldn’t quite switch off the part of her brain that was evaluating everyone in the room. “It’s been a while.”
Alexandra smiled. “Yeah, since the preview at the gallery. You were with that collector from Paris.”
“He’s still deciding between three paintings he can’t afford,” Emilie said dryly. “But I’m sure he’ll make a confident choice any day now.”
They both laughed.
And then Alexandra’s eyes shifted—to the person standing just behind Emilie, holding a pale blue shopping bag and smiling politely.
Next to her stood Isabelle.
And that—that was the part Alexandra didn’t quite expect.
Because Isabelle Leclerc, as Alexandra knew her, was quiet. Sweet, yes. Polite, yes. But always a little faded at the edges. Always deferring. Always on the outside, even when she was technically inside the room. Always smiling without saying much.
But here—standing next to Emilie, twirling a delicate silver ring between her fingers, visibly debating whether to buy it—Isabelle looked alive.
Her cheeks were pink. She was smiling, not the polite, folded sort of smile Alexandra knew, but something real. Something that reached her eyes. Her body language was open. Confident.
And Emilie was watching her like she’d personally fight anyone who dimmed that light again.
“Hi, Isabelle.”
“Hey, Alex. How are you?” Her voice was as warm as ever. Kind, even. That was the thing about Isabelle—she was never unkind. Always soft-spoken, always thoughtful. Alex couldn’t remember her ever being cold or rude.
And yet
 she realized with a flicker of guilt, she didn’t know a single personal thing about her. Not really.
“I’m good,” Alexandra said, hesitating. She wasn’t sure how long to linger. But Emilie stepped aside slightly, making room, and something about the way she did it—reluctantly welcoming—made Alexandra stay.
“You two shopping for anything in particular?” she asked.
Isabelle tilted her head. “A birthday gift. Possibly. Unless I end up keeping it for myself.”
“She’s been buying presents for everyone but herself,” Emilie said dryly. “As per usual.”
“I’m selective,” Isabelle said mildly.
“No, you’re selfless,” Emilie corrected. “There’s a difference.”
Alexandra watched the exchange, slightly stunned. There was an ease between them, a quiet rhythm. They spoke in a way that implied history. Real closeness. It made Isabelle seem... whole, somehow. Grounded.
Alexandra suddenly felt like she’d only ever seen the outline of a person.
“You’re really good at presents,” she said after a pause. “Honestly, I was just thinking about what to get Charles, and I have no idea. You always find the perfect thing.”
Isabelle blinked in surprise. “Oh—thank you. I just try to think about what makes people feel like they’ve been seen.”
“She’s too good,” Emilie said. “It’s genuinely annoying. I once said I liked the color of a book cover and two months later it showed up wrapped in silk ribbon with a handwritten note and a matching bookmark.”
Isabelle flushed slightly. “You needed cheering up.”
“She’s the personal shopper of the entire Leclerc family,” Emilie said flatly, reaching for a small candle. “Has been since she was old enough to know how to wrap a box. Half the birthday gifts your boyfriend has ever given were probably vetted or bought by her.”
Alexandra blinked. “Really?”
Isabelle looked embarrassed. “Sometimes they ask for help.”
Emilie raised an eyebrow. “Isabelle picked out Arthur’s last three girlfriend gifts and Pascale’s Christmas gift for the last 10 years.”
Alexandra laughed, but something about Emilie’s tone lingered.
Not unkind. Just sharp enough to say: Yes, Isabelle is good. And yes, they take her for granted.
It was the sort of thing Alexandra might have thought herself—but would never have said out loud.
“I’m very good at keeping secrets,” Isabelle said lightly.
Alexandra felt something twist in her chest.
She hadn’t known that. She’d never thought to ask.
She’d always liked Isabelle. Truly. Isabelle was kind, warm, undemanding. But also... elusive. Hard to reach. Like there was a door half-closed between them, and Alexandra had never known how to knock.
The three of them wandered through the boutique a little longer. Isabelle offered two suggestions for Charles—one sleek, one sentimental—and Alexandra made a note of both.
And then, as they paused by a shelf of men’s shirts in soft cotton and subtle patterns, Isabelle’s hand brushed one.
Alexandra watched her hesitate over it—thoughtful, considering—before she gently placed it back.
“For Charles?” Alex asked, puzzled.
Isabelle looked over, surprised. “What? Oh—no. Just a nice cut. The collar’s clean.”
And for a flicker of a second, something tugged at Alexandra—some thread she couldn’t quite pull free.
There was something else here. Something under the surface. And now that she’d seen it—how Isabelle lit up beside Emilie, how open she seemed in the right company—Alex couldn’t unsee it.
She’d always thought Isabelle was just shy. Or private. Or soft in that way people could overlook.
Now she wondered if Isabelle was simply guarded.
And Alex, for the first time, found herself wondering what it would take to really know Isabelle Leclerc.
Because she was starting to think—quietly, uneasily—that her boyfriend’s sister was not at all the girl they all assumed she was.
***
Text Messages: Alexandra Saint Mleux & Charles Leclerc
Alexandra: Just ran into your sister. In a boutique in the 6th.
Charles: Oh yeah? What was she doing?
Alexandra: Shopping.  Birthday presents, apparently. But Isabelle looked
 different.
Charles: Different how?
Alexandra: Happy. Confident. Like
 I don’t know. Not the version of her I usually see at family stuff. She was laughing. Really laughing.
Charles: She’s always laughing.  
Alexandra: Not like this, Mon amour.
Alexandra:  Do you think she’s seeing someone?
Charles:  What?
Alexandra:  I’m serious.
Charles: Yeah, no way.
Alexandra: Are you sure?
Charles: She would have mentioned it. 
Charles: Trust me, it’s not happening.
Alexandra: So confident about that, huh?
Charles: I’d know if she had a boyfriend. And she doesn’t.
***
Instagram Stories -@/isabelleleclerc
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
***
Meanwhile on Twitter: 
@/f1chaosupdates GUYS WHY DID ISABELLE LECLERC POST A CAT SINCE WHEN DOES SHE HAVE A CAT???
[Attached: Isabelle's story — a photo of a cat’s paw]
@/paddocktheories:  okay but like this cat looks suspiciously like it could be max verstappen’s cats sassy or jimmy reincarnated
@/wheresmygrid:  STOP I THOUGHT THE SAME THING
@/gridgoblins:  Wait wait wait what if it IS Sassy or Jimmy and she’s just at Max’s place 👀👀👀
@/redbullstan4life: This is literally a picture of a cat’s paw. It could belong to a thousand other cats. It doesn’t even need to be a Bengal!
@/charlesdefensesquad:  isabelle posting a cat and everyone immediately connecting it to max’s cats is so funny.  the girl can’t even post her own furniture without y’all screaming “VERSTAPPEN???”
@/gossipgridf1:  i will be NORMAL about this
 except no because that cat 100% looks like Jimmy or Sassy
@/monaco_mess:  to be fair if i was secretly dating max verstappen i too would post soft pictures of his cats like a declaration of love
@/oscarstan22:  everyone in the comments like đŸ•”ïžâ€â™€ïž enhance đŸ•”ïžâ€â™€ïž zoom đŸ•”ïžâ€â™€ïž cross-reference sassy and jimmy’s stripe patterns
@/gofasterbaby:  if it IS sassy or jimmy and isabelle is just chilling with them
. that’s basically a marriage announcement in Verstappen family terms
***
Oscar Piastri didn’t think grocery shopping could be stressful.
Until Monaco.
Until Monegasque grocery stores, specifically, which didn’t believe in helpful signage, organization, or—apparently—labels with pictures.
Oscar just wanted cheese.
That was it. Cheese. Maybe some pasta. Possibly bread if he was feeling adventurous.
But standing in the middle of a charmingly cramped French grocery store, blinking at six nearly identical wedges of something called tomme de brebis and a handwritten sign that might have been a threat—or a discount—he was beginning to spiral.
He’d committed to doing this errand without help. Without Google Translate. Without texting his girlfriend.
He was trying to be independent.
But now the shop owner was hovering, and Oscar had been standing in the cheese aisle for nine minutes, and he was starting to feel judged by a 72-year-old woman with a very intense stare.
And then—
“Do you need help?” a soft voice asked beside him.
Oscar blinked, turning to find a woman about his age, brown hair twisted back, a linen tote on one shoulder, expression kind.
“I’m sorry?”
She smiled, switching to English immediately. “You’ve been staring at the cheese like it owes you money. I figured you might be lost.”
Oscar exhaled in relief. “I am, actually. I don’t know what any of this is.”
She stepped forward and scanned the shelf. “That one’s sheep’s milk—really good, a bit nutty. That one’s stronger, aged, smells like feet but tastes amazing if you like that sort of thing.”
Oscar stared at her, impressed. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”
“I live around the corner,” she said. “And I’ve made every grocery mistake there is.”
He laughed, properly now. “Thanks. That helps a lot.”
She smiled again—polite, gentle, unassuming.
There was something
 familiar about her. 
Not in a hey-we’ve-met way. But in the I-know-that-face-from-somewhere way.
Soft brown hair, loosely braided. Pretty green eyes. Very Monaco. Very
 vaguely connected to something in his brain.
Oscar hesitated. “Do I
 know you?”
A flicker of amusement crossed her face. “Probably not. I mean—we’ve technically met. But you probably wouldn’t remember.”
Oscar narrowed his eyes. And then—lightbulb.
“You look like—” He blinked. “Oh. Wait. You’re Charles’ sister.”
Her smile faltered for just a second. “Yes. Among other things.”
“Right,” he said, suddenly feeling awkward. “I didn’t recognize you outside the paddock.”
“It’s okay,” she said, grabbing a carton of eggs with practiced precision. “I usually disappear into the background there.”
“They didn’t have the peach one. So I got apricot instead,” Came a voice behind Isabelle. 
Oscar looked up to see none other but Max Verstappen. 
“Perfect,” Isabelle said brightly. 
Oscar could just stare. 
“Oscar,” Max greeted him like it was a normal day. Like he wasn’t currently grocery shopping with Charles Leclerc’s sister. 
“
Hi,” Oscar managed, eyes pinging between them. “I—uh. Hey.”
Max moved to toss something else into Isabelle’s cart—like this was normal. Like they hadn’t just revealed themselves as Monaco’s most covert domestic power couple in front of the yogurt aisle.
“Groceries?” Max asked, like that was the confusing part of this moment.
“I—yeah,” Oscar said, holding up his sheep cheese wedge like it was a peace offering. “You guys are
 together?”
Max looked over his shoulder. “Shopping?”
Oscar blinked. “No, I mean
 like. Together.”
Isabelle flushed slightly but didn’t deny it. Just tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said, “For a while now.”
Oscar stared. “Like. Secretly?”
Max shrugged. “Privately.”
“That’s the same thing,” Oscar said.
Max looked unbothered. “Is it?”
“I thought you two barely talked,” he said, still trying to catch up.
“We don’t. Publicly,” Max said.
Oscar opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Does Charles know?”
Max shot him a look that said absolutely not.
Isabelle just gave a small smile and added, “Please don’t tell him.”
Oscar held up both hands. “I’ve never kept a secret faster in my life.”
Max nodded approvingly. “Good.” Then, off handedly. “Lando knows. Danny does too.”
“Cool,” Oscar said. Then: “I’m gonna go
 buy cheese and rethink everything I know.”
Max gave him a thumbs-up. “See you at the track.”
Oscar wandered away in stunned silence, still clutching his cheese like a lifeline, already trying to figure out how he of all people became the latest keeper of Verstappen-Leclerc classified information.
***
Group Chat: HELP ME
(Members: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris and Daniel Ricciardo)
Oscar: I just ran into Max Verstappen and Isabelle Leclerc in a grocery store.
Oscar: Help me. 
Lando: oh yeah? how was monaco’s finest domestic couple?
Oscar: I thought I hallucinated it at first
Oscar:  I looked up and Max was holding her jam
Oscar:  and then he put it in her cart
Lando: đŸ„č precious
Oscar: HE KNEW WHAT KIND OF JAM SHE LIKED LANDO—HE SAID “THEY DIDN’T HAVE THE PEACH, SO I GOT APRICOT” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN
Daniel: It means they’re in love and hiding it from Charles. 
Lando:  welcome to hell.
Oscar: How can Charles not know.
Lando: he’s oblivious. like truly, impressively blind
Oscar: When Charles finds out we are going to die.  I’m not built for this.  I was buying cheese. Cheese.
Oscar: Is it serious??
Lando: max let her redecorate his penthouse
Oscar: I hate it here.  I just wanted cheese.
Daniel: And instead you got a lifetime of emotional responsibility.  Congrats.
Oscar: How did you find out?
Lando: you remember when i broke max’s trophy? he let me bring home the replacement to help my guilty conscience, and guess who is living with him
Daniel: The hotel disaster.  That was when I figured it out
Lando: ???????? Lando:  What hotel disaster
Oscar: What happened??
Daniel: Zandvoort. Her brothers forgot to book her a hotel room.
Daniel:  Straight up just didn’t even think about it.
Daniel:  She landed. No room. No backup plan.
Daniel:  Was about to sleep in the damn lobby before Max found out.
Lando: YOU’RE JOKING.
Oscar: THEY WHAT. Oscar:  WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.
Daniel: Not done
Daniel:  Next morning?
Daniel:  They LEFT HER at the hotel.
Daniel:  Like
 packed up, went to the track, forgot she existed. 
Lando: I’m gonna throw something 
Lando: THEY JUST FORGOT HER????
Oscar: SHE IS THEIR SISTER Oscar:  NOT A MISPLACED WALLET
Lando: i have two sisters if i did that my mum would reassemble me from scratch just to kill me again
Oscar: If I did that my mother would drag me by my ear to the cameras of Sky Sports and berate me live on air.
Oscar:  What is WRONG with them
Daniel: Max was FUMING. So he asked me to pick her up. 
Oscar: GOOD.
Oscar: No wonder they kept it secret
Oscar:  If my girlfriend was treated by her family like that I’d go full vigilante too.
Daniel: 😂 welcome to the secret society of "We Would Kill For Isabelle Leclerc"
Oscar: Sign me up
Lando: same.
Lando:  also Charles is dead to me now until further notice
Daniel: don’t worry
Daniel: karma’s real
Daniel: and Max is scarier than any big brother
***
Lando Norris was pretty sure Oscar Piastri was about to crack.
He could see it happening in real time—the hairline fracture of panic starting just behind Oscar’s eyes. One more question. One wrong look. And Oscar was going to blurt out everything.
Max. Isabelle. The groceries.
And the worst part? Charles was right there—calm as ever, sipping an espresso in the hotel lobby like he wasn’t a ticking time bomb of impending betrayal. Like he wasn’t five seconds away from having his entire reality rearranged.
Lando shifted in his seat, chewing on a straw wrapper so aggressively he was surprised it hadn’t disintegrated yet. His knee bounced up and down, a desperate outlet for the nerves clawing at his insides.
They hadn’t spoken in ten minutes.
It was too quiet. Too weird. Too dangerous.
Which, obviously, was when Carlos strolled into the lobby, clocked the tension immediately, and frowned.
“What’s going on here?” Carlos asked, grabbing a protein bar from the snack stand like he had all the time in the world. “Why do you two look like you’ve committed war crimes?”
Oscar opened his mouth—probably to lie terribly and make it worse.
Lando, being the (barely) more functional one, jumped in first.
“It’s just—Charles,” Lando blurted.
Carlos raised an eyebrow. “What about him?”
Lando leaned forward, instantly deadly serious. “Have you ever noticed how he treats Isabelle?”
Carlos blinked. “His sister?”
“Exactly,” Lando said, nodding like he was revealing a state secret.
Oscar made a faint strangled noise next to him, probably reconsidering his life choices.
Carlos unwrapped his protein bar slowly, suspicious. “I mean
 he loves her?”
“Sure,” Lando said, wide-eyed. “But does he see her? Or does he just
 expect her to float quietly in the background of his life like a nice decorative houseplant?”
Oscar buried his face in his hands. Good. He deserved that.
Carlos stared at them like they were the ones malfunctioning.
“Where is this coming from?” Carlos asked, suspicious.
“Just answer the question,” Lando said, channeling his inner investigative journalist. “Do you think he actually appreciates her?”
Carlos hesitated, tilting his head like he was actually giving it thought. “I think
 he assumes she’s fine because she doesn’t complain much?”
“EXACTLY,” Lando said, throwing his hands in the air. “She doesn’t complain. That doesn’t mean she’s fine!”
Oscar groaned again, muttering into his hands.
Carlos took a slow bite of protein bar. “Is this about the hotel thing?”
Oscar’s head snapped up. “You know about the hotel thing?”
Carlos nodded. “Yeah, I heard she didn’t have a room. I figured it was a mix-up.”
Lando let out a high-pitched laugh. “They also left her at the hotel the next morning. Like a pair of emotionally unavailable golden retrievers.”
Carlos shrugged. “They didn’t mean to.”
“THAT’S WORSE,” Lando exploded. “You don’t just ‘accidentally’ forget your SISTER.”
Oscar nodded vigorously. “That’s literally child abandonment but for grown-ups.”
Carlos stared at them, bemused. “You two are acting very emotionally involved.”
“NOPE,” Lando said immediately, standing up so fast his chair skidded backward.
Oscar scrambled after him. “Not emotionally involved. Just very passionate about
sibling rights. And human decency.”
“And basic hospitality standards!” Lando added, pointing accusingly at the air.
Carlos narrowed his eyes. “You’re both incredibly weird today.”
Lando clapped him hard on the shoulder. “We’re always weird, mate. But seriously. Watch how Charles talks to her next time. It’ll ruin your day.”
Carlos just blinked, chewing thoughtfully.
Oscar grabbed Lando’s arm before he could say anything else truly unhinged. “Come on. We have
 tires. Very important tires to look at.”
“Yeah. Tire research. Super urgent,” Lando agreed.
They power-walked out of the lobby, leaving Carlos watching them, baffled.
Carlos shook his head slowly, muttering to himself, “Okay, but seriously
 why are they so weird about Isabelle?”
***
Max trudged through the front door, dropping his bag with a dull thud. Isabelle had been waiting for him, curled up on the couch with a book, but the moment she saw him, she sat up straight.
“You’re sick.” It wasn’t a question.
Max huffed out a breath. “I’m fine.”
Isabelle was already on her feet, walking toward him. “You’re pale.” She placed the back of her hand against his forehead, frowning. “And warm.”
“I was just on a plane.”
“You also sound stuffy.” She folded her arms. “Go to bed.”
“I just got home.”
“And I’d like to keep you alive long enough to enjoy it. Bed, Max.”
Max sighed but didn’t argue. He was too tired for that. Instead, he leaned down, pressing a slow kiss to her forehead before mumbling, “You’re bossy.”
“I’m effective.”
She watched as he trudged toward the bedroom, shaking her head. A moment later, she followed, scooping up Jimmy from his spot on the armchair. When she walked into the room, Max was already under the blankets, eyes half-lidded.
“Here,” she murmured, placing Jimmy beside him. The cat instantly curled up against his chest, purring loudly.
Max cracked a small smile, rubbing behind Jimmy’s ears. “You’re trying to bribe me with my own cat.”
“Whatever works.” She kissed his temple. “Sleep.”
***
Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Sophie Kumpen
Isabelle: Hi Sophie! I hope you’re doing well! I need your help with something.
Sophie: Hello, dear! Of course, what do you need?
Isabelle: Max came home from the race and he’s definitely getting sick. He’s trying to act normal, but he looks exhausted and keeps sniffling.
Isabelle: I sent him straight to bed with a cat for company, but I wanted to make him something comforting. He once told me you used to make tomato soup for him when he was sick—would you mind sharing the recipe?
Sophie: Oh, poor thing. He never knows when to slow down.
Sophie: And of course! Here’s how I always made it:
Sauté onions and garlic in olive oil until soft.
Add chopped tomatoes (fresh is best, but canned works too!)
Pour in vegetable broth and a pinch of sugar—Max never noticed, but it makes all the difference!
Lots of basil, always extra for Max.
Simmer, blend, then stir in a little cream to make it smooth.
Serve with bread—he used to insist on dipping half a baguette in it!
Isabelle: This is perfect! Thank you so much.
Sophie: You’re very welcome, sweetheart. He’s going to love it.
Sophie: And if he’s still feeling bad tomorrow, make him tea with honey. That’s what I always did.
Isabelle: Noted! I’ll make sure he drinks it.
Sophie: You’re taking such good care of him. He’s lucky to have you.
Isabelle: I’m lucky to have him too. ❀
***
By the time he woke up, the apartment smelled like tomatoes and garlic. Max blinked, slowly sitting up. Jimmy was still pressed against him, and Sassy had taken up residence at his feet. He groggily reached for his phone and saw a notification from Isabelle.
Isabelle: Texted your mom for her tomato soup recipe. You’re getting the Verstappen childhood classic.
Max stared at the message for a second before a slow, warm feeling spread through his chest. He pulled himself out of bed, padding toward the kitchen. Isabelle was stirring a pot on the stove, hair tied up, her phone sitting next to her with messages from his mom open on the screen.
She turned at the sound of his footsteps. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
Max leaned against the counter, taking in the sight of her making his childhood comfort food, and felt something deep and certain settle in his bones.
“I feel like I should marry you.”
Isabelle blinked, then huffed a laugh. “You have a fever.”
“I’m serious.”
She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were pink. “Eat your soup, Verstappen.”
Max watched as Isabelle turned back to the stove, stirring the soup with careful, practiced movements. He could see the little notes his mother had sent still open on her phone—things like "Don't forget a little sugar to balance the acidity" and "Max always liked it with extra basil".
Something about it made his chest ache, but in a good way.
“Sit down,” Isabelle said without looking at him. “I’ll bring it over.”
Max didn’t argue. He knew better. Instead, he shuffled over to the dining table, rubbing a hand over his face. He still felt like hell, but the warm smell of tomato soup and the sight of Isabelle in their kitchen softened the edges of it.
A few minutes later, Isabelle placed a bowl in front of him, along with a plate of bread. She even cut the slices into smaller pieces, making it easier for him to eat.
Max raised an eyebrow. “Are you about to start feeding me, too?”
“If I have to.” She sat down across from him, resting her chin on her hand. “Go on. Try it.”
He took a spoonful, letting the warmth spread through him. It tasted exactly like how he remembered—rich, slightly sweet, the basil bringing a fresh note to it.
“Good?” Isabelle asked.
Max swallowed, nodding. “Perfect.”
She looked pleased with herself, tucking one knee up against her chest. “Your mom was really sweet about sending me the recipe. She told me to tell you that if you’re still feeling bad tomorrow, I should make you tea with honey.”
Max smirked. “You and my mom are conspiring now?”
“Obviously.” She smiled. “Someone has to keep you in check.”
He took another sip, watching her from across the table. “Thank you,” he said, quieter this time.
Isabelle just shrugged, brushing it off like it was nothing. “You take care of me all the time,” she said simply. “Why wouldn’t I do the same?”
Max didn’t have a good answer for that.
Instead, he reached across the table, curling his fingers around hers. Isabelle let him, her thumb brushing absently over his knuckles.
“If I ever win another world championship,” he said, voice a little rough, “just know it’ll be because of you and your soup.”
She laughed, squeezing his hand. “Good to know my cooking has that much power.”
Max just smiled, his fever making him feel a little loopy, a little sentimental.
He didn’t mind.
***
Max was a terrible patient.
Not in the dramatic, clingy, "I think I’m dying" kind of way. No—he was quiet, still, and deeply put out by the fact that his body dared to betray him for more than five seconds.
Which meant he was now cocooned in the middle of their bed, surrounded by three pillows, and the comforter pulled halfway up to his chin like a grumpy Victorian child home with the flu.
His nose was pink. His curls were a mess. And he was definitely running a fever.
Isabelle pressed the back of her hand to his forehead and shook her head fondly. “Still warm.”
Max blinked up at her, expression solemn and glassy-eyed. “I feel like someone hit me with a tyre gun.”
“Very specific,” she said, setting the thermometer aside and handing him another cup of ginger tea.
He took a slow sip. Then sighed. Then blinked at her again like something important had just occurred to him.
“We should get another cat,” he said hoarsely.
Isabelle paused. “Sorry?”
“A kitten,” he clarified, like it was obvious. “Small. Would follow me around.”
She tried—really tried—not to laugh.
Max Verstappen, three-time World Champion, currently wearing a hoodie two sizes too big and nursing a cold, was looking at her like he’d just solved a national crisis.
“You want a kitten,” Isabelle repeated.
He nodded solemnly, already settling back against the pillows. “It’d be good practice.”
“For what?” she asked, amused.
Max blinked at her again, slow and drowsy. “You know.”
“No, I don’t. Enlighten me.”
He looked at her, expression perfectly serious despite the fever. “A baby.”
Isabelle choked on her tea.
Max didn't flinch.
She stared at him for a full ten seconds. “You think adopting a kitten would be
 baby practice?”
He nodded again, very sure of himself. “Feeding. Naps. Picking the name.”
“And the kitten would be our test run for parenthood?”
“Exactly.”
Isabelle smiled—gently, deeply—and brushed a hand over his curls, pushing the hair back from his forehead.
“You’re feverish,” she said softly.
He nodded. “But I’m also right.”
She leaned down, kissed his too-warm cheek. “We’ll talk about the kitten when your temperature is below thirty-nine.”
Max hummed. “Good. I think you'd be a good cat mom. And baby mom.”
Then he promptly fell asleep with one hand still loosely curled around hers.
And Isabelle—heart full, smile helpless—sat beside him and thought, yeah, maybe I would.
***
Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Victoria Verstappen
Victoria: Hey—how’s Max doing? Still being dramatic or has he entered the sleepy kitten phase of being sick?
Isabelle: Definitely the kitten phase.
Isabelle: Currently wrapped in a blanket burrito with Jimmy on his chest.
Isabelle: Looks like he’s been defeated by soup and his own body heat.
Victoria: Incredible.
Victoria: Has he started saying weird fever things yet?
Isabelle: 
Depends what you consider “weird.”
Victoria: Uh-oh.
Victoria: Hit me.
Isabelle: He told me we should get another cat.
Isabelle: Which sounded normal-ish. Until he said it would be “good practice.”
Victoria: Practice for what?
Isabelle: A baby.
Victoria: A baby?
Isabelle: Yep. I laughed at first. But he was serious. Or fever-serious.
Isabelle: He looked at me like it wasn’t even a joke.
Victoria: 
Do I get to be an aunt?
Victoria: Because I will cry.
Isabelle: He was feverish. It could have been the paracetamol talking.
Victoria: But you didn’t panic.
Isabelle: I melted. And then I panicked about melting.
Victoria: You want it.
Isabelle: I always have. I just never let myself imagine it.
Isabelle: And now suddenly he’s sick and talking about babies and I’m feeling things.
Victoria: Okay, well
 since we’re being honest about baby feelings
 You’ll get to practice sooner than you think.
Isabelle: What?
Victoria: I’m due in June.
Isabelle: WHAT.
Victoria: Surprise?
Isabelle: ARE YOU KIDDING ME
Victoria: Nope. Tiny Verstappen-Bluth incoming.
Isabelle: VIC.
Isabelle: You cannot just drop that in the middle of a conversation about your brother wanting a baby.
Victoria: I thought it was great timing!
Victoria: What’s better than your fever-delirious boyfriend mentioning fatherhood right before I tell you you’re about to be an aunt?
Isabelle: I’m crying.
Victoria: You’re going to be so good with them.
Victoria: And if you and Max do decide to start practicing sometime soon
 well.
Victoria: Built-in cousin. You’re welcome.
Victoria: Get ready, Tante Belle.
Victoria: Big Verstappen family era incoming.
Isabelle: You’re all insane.
Isabelle: And I love you.
Victoria: Love you too.
***
Max heard the door slam—really slam—before he even saw her.
Not the usual soft click of someone slipping home after a long day. Not the tired shuffle of keys or the muted rustle of her bag hitting the floor. No, this was different. Sharp. Final. Frustrated.
He looked up from where he was half-dozing on the couch, immediately alert.
Isabelle stood by the door, hands clenched into fists, her chest rising and falling in short, uneven breaths. Her tote bag—usually treated carefully—was now abandoned at her feet, one strap twisted. She shoved her hands through her hair roughly, tugging it out of its neat twist, and paced a tight, angry line across the room.
Max stood without thinking.
"Bad day?" he asked quietly.
Isabelle laughed—a short, humorless sound—and shook her head, still pacing like she couldn't physically stay still.
"Bad?" she repeated, voice sharp with disbelief. "No, Max. It was a disaster."
He stayed silent, waiting, giving her the space she clearly needed to let it spill out.
"My boss dumped an entire project on me today. A major one. Because the senior architect left, and apparently—" she threw her hands up, exasperated, "—obviously it's my problem now. No heads-up. No discussion. Just, 'Congratulations, Isabelle, here's an entire portfolio of someone else's half-finished work. Good luck.'"
Max's jaw tightened. His hands itched to do something—fix it, protect her, something. But he stayed where he was, steady.
"And it gets better," Isabelle said, turning to face him, her green eyes sparking with a tired, furious fire he didn’t see often. "When I tried—politely, professionally—to point out that my current workload is already full, he told me to 'prioritize better.' And walked away. Just—walked. Like it wasn’t his problem."
She laughed again, but it cracked midway through. Her hands dropped to her sides helplessly.
Max exhaled slowly, moving toward her. "You know what I’m going to say."
She groaned, already knowing, already bracing. "Max—"
"You don't need this," he said firmly. "You're running yourself into the ground for people who don't even see you."
She closed her eyes, pressing the heels of her palms against them like she could block out the whole world.
"I like my job," she said, but it sounded like she was trying to convince herself.
Max stopped right in front of her, close enough that he could reach out—but he didn’t, not yet. He knew better. She wasn’t looking for comfort yet. She was still in the fight.
"Do you?" he asked, softer now. Not accusing. Just... careful. Gentle.
Isabelle’s shoulders slumped a little.
"You sure don’t look like someone who likes what they’re doing," Max added, his voice rougher, threading frustration and concern together. "You look like someone who’s trying to survive it."
The room was quiet for a beat, just the low hum of the evening city outside the windows.
Finally, she sagged forward, her forehead pressing into his chest like she physically couldn't hold herself upright anymore.
Max didn’t hesitate then. He wrapped his arms around her, firm and grounding, resting his chin lightly on the top of her head.
She let out a long, shaky breath, the tension bleeding out of her in slow, heavy drips.
"I just..." she started, her voice muffled against him. "I don’t know what to do."
Max closed his eyes, holding her tighter.
"You don’t have to have all the answers right now," he said quietly. "But you have options, Belle. You always do. You don’t have to stay somewhere that treats you like you’re disposable."
She let out a quiet, broken sound that made his chest ache.
He kissed her hair, slow and steady.
"You are not a stopgap. You're not a backup plan. You're not someone they can just lean on when it's convenient and forget about the rest of the time," he murmured against her. "You are brilliant. And you deserve people—and a job—that sees that."
She was silent for a long time, just breathing against him.
"I don't want to quit," she whispered eventually. "I don't want it to feel like they chased me out."
Max rubbed small circles over her back, patient. "Then don't. Fight them, if that's what you want. Prove them wrong. You’re strong enough."
He pulled back just enough to see her face, brushing her messy hair away from her cheeks.  "But don’t stay just to prove a point if it’s breaking you in the process."
Her eyes were glassy but clear, staring up at him like she was trying to pull strength out of the way he looked at her.
"You’re not alone," he said simply. "You have me. Always."
For a moment, she just stood there, letting that settle between them.
Then she nodded—tiny, but certain—and leaned back into his chest.
Max smiled into her hair.
They stood like that for a long time, the city lights flickering quietly outside, the cats curling around their feet like they, too, understood that the whole world narrowed down to this.
Max holding her. Her letting herself be held.
And for now, that was enough. ****
The envelope looked expensive.
That was the first red flag.
Matte paper, gold foil edges, no return address on the front—just her full name printed in elegant, serif font.
Her full, full name. Because apparently her parents hadn’t been done after Charles Marc HervĂ© Perceval Leclerc, and so she and Arthur had ended up with similarly ridiculous, vaguely royal-sounding names.
Isabelle AmĂ©lie ThĂ©rĂšse ÉlĂ©onore Leclerc. 
There it was. 
On the kind of envelope that looked like it came with obligations.
She hadn’t ordered anything. She hadn’t opened a new account.
She frowned as she sliced it open. She wasn’t expecting anything. Max paid the bills on the penthouse. Her own account was small, manageable, predictable. Her work was steady. 
The card slipped out first. Heavy. Polished. Black.
Hitting the kitchen island. 
Her name, again, embossed in silver.
But it wasn’t her account.
It was his.
Linked cardholder – Max Emilian Verstappen
She stared at it for a full minute. Long enough for the air to change. Long enough for every messy, unspoken thing she’d been trying not to feel to crawl back up her throat.
She swallowed. 
They had had that conversation. 
You quit your job. Become my incredibly spoiled, disgustingly pampered trophy wife. No more late nights, no more stress. Just you, spending my money and riding your horses.
She had said no. Because she was ambitious. Talented. Smart.
But the truth?
The truth was that she’d wondered.
What if she could be that person?
What if she’d be fine being that person?
His person.
 The woman who did yoga at ten, had coffee by eleven, picked up their kids from school in designer flats and knew the best lunch spots in three countries. 
The one who didn’t constantly doubt her place, didn’t flinch every time someone whispered "nepo baby" under their breath, didn’t fight to be taken seriously in rooms that were already decided before she entered them.
There was a part of her—a very small, very quiet part—that wondered what it would be like.
To let go.
 To stop clawing for approval from people who didn’t care if she drowned.
 To let herself be loved, wholly and visibly.
 To marry Max.
 To have his name. His children. His cats. 
 To be someone soft and kept and adored.
What if she didn’t want to fight so hard all the time?
What if a part of her—small, shameful, stubborn—wanted to be kept?
And now
 this.
Not a proposal. Not a ring.
But a card.
With her name.
 On his account.
A card that wives got. 
That long-term partners with shared mortgages and Sunday routines and matching key fobs got. 
A gesture that said: this life is yours too. You’re allowed to be at ease.
And it terrified her.
Because Max didn’t do anything halfway. He wasn’t careless with people. He didn’t toss around trust like confetti. He was sharp, observant, and maddeningly meticulous.
He was deliberate.
This wasn’t about convenience.
 This was a line drawn. A stake in the ground.
A declaration.
And Isabelle?
She wasn’t sure she trusted herself not to disappear into it.
Not because Max would ask her to—but because it felt so good to be seen by someone who didn’t require her to earn it. To prove it. To perform. 
Max knew her fears. Her fault lines. Her quiet cravings.
And instead of mocking them, he made room for them.
Which, somehow, made it worse.
She’d spent so long trying to prove she was more than someone’s sister. More than a background fixture. 
But here she was.
Here she was feeling safer just being Max’s than she ever had trying to be anyone else’s.
Here she was, considering if being Belle Verstappen might actually make her happier than being Isabelle Leclerc ever had.
And wasn’t that the most terrifying thought of all?
***
“Hey,” Max called as he stepped inside, the door shutting with a familiar click behind him. “I grabbed those oat crackers you like—the ones with the seeds that taste like cardboard.”
He dropped his keys into the ceramic bowl by the door, his tone light, teasing.
No answer.
He rounded the corner into the kitchen and—
Stopped.
Isabelle was standing still. Very still. Right beside the counter, her body folded in on itself like she was trying to take up less space.
The envelope was open. The card—that card—lay face-up on the marble. Black. Sleek. Heavy. Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest, like she needed the pressure to keep herself grounded.
Max’s eyes flicked from the card to her face and back again.
And then he felt it—the shift.
The air in the room had changed. Gone quiet. Weighted.
He knew that look on her face.
He’d seen it before—on days when she came home from work braced for someone to doubt her, challenge her, chip away at her. It was the expression she wore when she felt like she was too much and not enough in the same breath.
“Oh,” Max said softly, carefully. “You got it.”
He didn’t say I meant to tell you in person. He didn’t say I’ve been watching you stretch yourself thin, giving more than anyone asks, and never— never— expecting to receive anything back.
She didn’t smile.
“Max,” she said, her voice low and unfamiliar, “what is this?”
She wasn’t angry. That would’ve been easier. Anger was clean.
No—this was something else.
Fragile. Quiet. Like she'd been cracked open without warning.
He stepped toward her slowly. Like he was trying not to spook something delicate.
“It’s just
” he tried, “a card. For you. In case you ever need it.”
Her eyes—green, glossy, wide—didn’t leave his.
“You just handed me access to everything.”
He could’ve argued that. Could’ve said it’s not everything. But he didn’t lie to her, and this wasn’t about technicalities.
So instead, he said the truth.
“I handed you ease,” he said gently. “Because you never ask for it. Even when you need it most.”
He’d thought about that a lot.
That was why he’d had the card made.
Not because she needed it—not practically, not financially. Isabelle was capable in ways that astonished him daily. She ran her life on spreadsheets and discipline, all soft voice and steel spine.
But she’d been conditioned—by her family, by the world—to believe she had to earn everything. Love. Rest. Comfort. Even kindness.
So he’d done what he did best.
Planned ahead.
He’d spoken to his advisor. Had the account adjusted. Added her name. Put in the request quietly. Privately. No fanfare.
Not to control her.
But so that, if ever the moment came—
If she was tired, overwhelmed, caught without breath—
 She’d have something already waiting.
No questions. No performance. Just trust.
But now, watching the way her fingers dug into her elbows, Max understood how even trust could feel like a trap when you’d never been given it freely.
“We just had a conversation about trophy wives,” she said suddenly. Her voice shook like she hated herself for even bringing it up.
He blinked. “Yes. And you said you didn’t want to be one.”
“What if I’d be fine with that life?” she said. “What if part of me wants it?”
His heart clenched. Not because she said it—but because he knew exactly what she meant.
“Then I’d tell you,” he said calmly, “if you ever want to be my trophy wife, just let me know. I’ll buy you a designer handbag and get very into being your arm candy.”
That earned him a look. A slight wobble in her mouth like she was trying not to smile, even while her throat worked against tears.
She let out an unsteady laugh that turned halfway into a sigh. “Max.”
“No pressure,” he said quickly, his voice low and warm now. “But if you ever wake up and decide you want that kind of life—that kind of ease—I’ll give it to you. Without question.”
“I don’t want to lose myself,” she whispered. “I don’t want to stop being
 me.”
“You won’t,” Max said, voice steady. “I know who you are. And I’d never let you forget.”
Because she was the strongest person he’d ever known. She had survived a thousand quiet dismissals and overlooked brilliance. She’d clawed her way into a space she was never given, and never once asked for credit.
He wanted to say more. Wanted to tell her that he’d never met anyone who held herself so tightly together with so little help. That watching her try to hold back softness like it was weakness made his chest ache. That the thing she feared—disappearing—was impossible, because the moment she walked into a room, his world shifted.
She deserved to feel safe. And not just safe—but held.
But he didn’t say all that.
He just said what she needed.
“I didn’t give you this card to change you,” Max said. “I gave it to you so you’d never feel like you had to earn the right to feel safe.”
That word hung there between them. Heavy. Final. The real gift.
Not the money. Not the access.
Safety.
After a long, breathless silence, Isabelle reached out. Slowly. Carefully. She picked up the card with both hands like it might still burn her.
Held it in her palm. Looked at her name. His name. Their names. Together.
“Okay,” she said finally, voice soft, breaking open. “But you’re not allowed to joke when I buy toothpaste with it.”
He smiled—one of those rare, slow smiles he reserved just for her.
He stepped in and kissed her temple gently, grounding them both.
“Toothpaste, muffins, a yacht,” he murmured. “Whatever you need.”
She let out a wet laugh. “A yacht?”
“I’m just saying,” he said lightly, brushing his knuckles along her arm, “it’s good to have options.”
“I’m not buying a yacht, Max.”
“I know.” He paused. “But I wanted you to know you could.”
916 notes · View notes
veltana · 1 year ago
Text
Unleashed - Avengers!Bucky/Fem!Reader
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✩ Pairing: Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader
✩ Word count: ~4,2k
✩ Rating: Explicit
✩ Warnings/tags: Sex pollen adjacent kinda, smut, a bit fluffy, one shot, possessive!Bucky, co-workers/friends to lovers, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praise, creampie, pet names (doll).
✩ Summary: During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions and all he wants is you.
✩ Note: Previously posted on AO3 since I have basically no time or energy to write new stuff. It was titled You’re what I need before but I always hated that title so I decided to re-name it. Bucky is kind of an asshole in this, but it's just because he wants you! As always, reblogs, comments, and asks are very welcome ❀
Masterlist | AO3
The worst part about watching from afar as a mission goes to shit is that you feel useless. Even as you dispatch medics for the team all you can do is tell them, "Help is on the way."
Captain America shouts orders that you hear through the comms. The wait feels endless until the crew of the quinjet declares that they have spotted the team and there's not much else for you to do but look at your monitors and wait for an update. When you get the call back that the team is secure you breathe a sigh of relief, but then the next message is to prepare the medical staff to receive multiple injuries and chemical exposure. You ask the crew to clarify, but they are too busy, so when you notify the medical center, they prepare a quarantine room.
Sometimes you wish you had a superpower and could be there with them instead of staring at your monitors and doing endless calculations on whatever the team needs. But then when they return they always compliment your work and tell you they don’t know how they managed without you. You try to remind yourself of those moments at times like this.
Once the quinjet is docked and everyone has been accounted for you push away from your desk and remove your headset, taking deep breaths and trying to calm your heart. A moment later a message pops up on your screen, probably because they couldn’t reach you through your comms. [Bucky wants you to come down here]
Your heart does a little flip in your chest, making you scowl. He is your friend and probably injured, you have no idea why he would be asking for you, but it’s not because he feels the same way you do. You grab your tablet and head to the MedBay.
When you get down you take stock of the situation. Nat and Steve have some scratches, Sam's arm is broken and Wanda has a few cracked ribs. Tony is bruised, his suit had taken most of the damage. You look around for Bucky but don’t see him anywhere and quickly deduce that he must be the person currently in quarantine.
When you get to the wing, you’re almost too scared to go in, afraid to see what could have happened to him. Inside, you find a team of medical personnel discussing Bucky's condition with him through a glass wall. His hair looks damp and he's wearing standard-issue quarantine clothing, soft black pants, and a black sweatshirt. When he sees you standing patiently at the side he says. "You can come back later. I need to talk to her more than I need to talk to you. Go away." His voice comes from speakers in the ceiling.
You're shocked by his behavior but smile apologetically as the white coats pass you on their way out. When you get up to the glass you hiss. "Bucky, what is wrong with you, don't be rude.” "You make it sound like I'm never rude otherwise," he laughs. "You're not rude to healthcare professionals, you know better." You glare at him as you wake your tablet. “Now what did you need me for?”
"Do you like me?" he asks. Your mouth falls open and your heart starts to beat faster. You’re happy your vitals aren’t monitored as you quickly collect yourself and try to deflect his question. "Of course I like you Bucky, you're my friend." But now it feels weird to look at him and you find a spot on the wall far behind him to focus on.
"What if I want more than friends?" is his next question and despite your best efforts, hope warms your chest. This is not happening. Of course you toyed with the idea of you and Bucky, he is always sweet to you, and if he has the chance he brings you gifts from the missions. But you’ve told yourself repeatedly that he needs someone stronger, who can keep up with him in the field and you’re not that person.
"Can we have this conversation when you are not high on some HYDRA drug?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from betraying you. They are monitoring everything in the room. And there is a sheet of unbreakable glass in between you both. If you're going to confess your feelings, it won't be like this.
"I'm not high," he huffs. "My mind has never been clearer." "I still think we should have this conversation later." "Doll, look at me." The command in his voice is so strong you don’t think, you snap your eyes to his and they are so blue and soft.
"I will feel the same tomorrow, and the day after, whenever this drug wears off but now is the only time I can't hold my tongue," he explains. You place your hand on the glass and he does the same on the other side. "It will be fine Bucky, I promise," you say just as the door opens and Steve walks in, making you pull your hand back to your side. He's showered, in a fresh pair of clothes and he swings his arm over your shoulder.
"Stop hogging her time Bucky, I know for a fact that she also needs to debrief," he smiles but Bucky looks as if he's seeing red. Through gritted teeth he presses out, "Get your fucking arm off her, punk. She's mine."
You and Steve burst into laughter because it has to be a joke, but then Bucky punches the barrier with his vibranium arm. The glass doesn't crack but both you and Steve stop short and step away in shock. Steve removes his arm and says, "I'll meet you upstairs." Before quickly heading out.
You turn to Bucky and point at him, anger rising in your chest. "What is wrong with you? Steve is your friend!" "That is what it’s like in here every day,” he points to his head. You're taken aback by his statement and his wide feral eyes. Clearly, whatever he was exposed to had messed with his head and he's not himself. “Bucky I need to go,” you tell him, and before he can protest you continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile feebly at him and are out the door before he can say anything else.
After debriefing and having dinner you go to bed early. Your head is spinning with the day and most of all, Bucky.
It's way past midnight when you wake to the soft closing of your door. Since you always sleep with a night light the soft warm glow reflects off his left arm and leaves no doubt about who has entered your room. You blink at him but before you can ask a question he rasps out, pleading. "I need you. So bad. Please doll, help me." He moves closer to your bed.
You quickly remove your covers and get up, glad the giant t-shirt covers you to your thighs, ready to spring into action. "Anything Bucky, what do you need?" You stop an arm's length from him, but all he does is reach his hand out to cup your face, letting his thumb stroke your cheek. There is a wild look in his eyes but you keep calm. "I can't get you what you need if you don't tell me," you whisper, meeting his eyes and watching as his brow furrows.
"I need you. Right now. If I don't get to touch and taste every inch of your body I'm going to lose my mind," he confesses in a low voice. His words shock you and you hitch a breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You have this great friendship. If things were different you would not have minded taking it to another level, but with the day in mind and the fact that he somehow got out of his containment room you say, "Bucky, you’re not yourself, you need to get back to-”
"Doll,” he interrupts with a hard voice. “For once, I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. The only thing the drug did, I think, was remove my inhibitions. For once I feel free. My mind isn't controlled by HYDRA or by fear that you'll reject me. All I know is that I crave you and I can't be quiet about it anymore.”
"Bucky
 I
" your whole body is flushed with warmth from his words and you're not sure how to respond. "I dreamt about you and couldn't stop myself from going over here. I don't want to hurt you, doll, but I'm not sure this drug will let me leave. All I wanna do is move closer to you.” You swallow hard as he continues, thumb still stroking your cheek. “Ask FRIDAY to get Steve, or the Hulk if you want me to leave."
Instead, you step into him, making up your mind in an instant and resting your hands on his chest. "Stay, I'll be glad to help you with anything you need," you whisper honestly and by the way his eyes widen there was still some doubt in his mind that you would reject him.
Instead of saying anything his vibranium hand grasps your waist and pulls you closer. There is no escaping the smell and size of him and his hands on you got your pussy throbbing for him already.
"I hope you understand what you've agreed to," he whispers, leaning closer. "Once I have you I won't stop, you'll never be rid of me. I'll claim you against every surface of this fucking compound if I need to." That makes you whimper and press harder against him. "Fuck you'd like that huh? Are you a kinky little thing? Like getting fucked where people can see you and hear you moan, do you want people to see my hard dick spread you open?" "Fuck Bucky!" You exclaim and lean your forehead against his chest. Maybe that idea excites you or maybe it is just that the word ‘claim’ sounds so primal.
"You're going to tell me all your little secrets later, doll. But now, I'm going to take what's mine." And with that, he crushes his lips to yours. He backs you towards the bed, kissing you the whole time, letting his hands explore you. When you land on your back, he stands over you with eyes like a predator about to devour its prey.
You shuffle up until your head rests on the pillows, spreading your legs for him. Without taking off any clothes he crawls after you, settling on his knees between your legs and placing his hands on the headboard, crowding you with his large frame. "Mine," he whispers and it makes a shudder pass through you. He ruts his clothed cock against your core, slicking your underwear even more and making you whine, gripping the sheets under you.
"Yes," he almost hisses as the length of his dick presses on your clit and forces a mewl out of you. It's been a long time since you've gotten laid. "Bucky," you plead. "No doll, I'm going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you, from the outside in. Did you think this would be hard and fast and that I would be gone before you knew what happened?"
He lets go of the headboard to put his elbows beside your head instead, his weight on you, pressing you down into the mattress. "When I leave you will long for me, spend every waking second wishing I was still inside you. I want your cunt to be permanently drenched so I can fuck you whenever I please." He kisses you forcefully and any coherent thought that was left in your head flees. "And when you're too sore to take more of my dick in your pussy I'm going to do the same thing to your mouth and ass."
He rids you off your t-shirt and instead of having to move from between your legs to pull off your underwear, he rips them apart. "Ah!" you exclaim when the force of his movements jolts you but he takes no notice, he just stares at you, letting his hands roam up and down your sides, up to your tits, cupping them and caressing your nipples with his thumbs.
Whimpers are coming from you with every pass of this touch. Then he moves down and lays on his stomach, not saying a word as he sweeps his tongue over your pussy before he starts devouring you with a throaty moan.
It doesn’t take long for the first orgasm to take you, his movements are precise and his words and actions have made you hornier than you’ve ever experienced. Or maybe it's because he is the hottest person you’ve ever laid eyes on and he only wants you.
When you’re finished and sensitive he dips his tongue into your hole to taste you and groans loudly, lapping up the wetness from your orgasm. "Better than I've dreamed of," he says when he pulls away. Now you’re the one that must be high because you can't help but giggle. "You seriously dream of me?" "All the time, doll. Every night when I go to bed I wish you were with me and then you plague my sleep with your soft curves and radiant smile."
You're about to tell him how his laugh makes you warm and fuzzy on the inside but at that moment he sucks your clit into his mouth, cutting out every thought in your brain. He's gentle but not hesitant, it's as if he's feeling you out and when you make a particularly loud sound he continues the same movement, making your whole body go hot.
The second orgasm is intense enough to send aftershocks through for a long while afterward. Bucky lays his head on your thigh as you tremble, caressing your skin and letting the fingers of his right hand skim over your opening.
Despite what he's already given you, you still crave more. His fingertips never come close to where you need them and when you whine at the back of your throat Bucky smiles up at you. "Don't worry, I'm not even close to done with you, but I don't want you to pass out on me.” One of his fingers glides inside, making you take a sharp breath just because it feels so good. Once again he is careful, moving slowly, listening to your breath and your body.
"Please Bucky, I need more.” "No need to beg, I'll give you everything you want
 in time," he breathes and kisses the skin on the inside of your thigh. Slowly he moves his finger in and out. You're sure it's a form of torture. The sweetest kind there is. Your breathing is labored and when he finally adds a second, you start to quiver.
He nips at your skin and then kisses it before speaking. "You look like a goddess, doll, eyes filled with lust, your skin is gleaming. I'm going to worship you until you're tired of me.” "Never gonna happen," you whimper. Then his thumb lands on your clit, making you cry out. Everything is so sensitive and overstimulated.
"I don't- Bucky, I don't think I can again," you tell him even though his touches are causing your insides to melt. "Yes, you will," his voice is soft but the command is clear. So instead of trying to speak again, you sink further into the madness that is him playing with you. The third one takes its sweet time but you never feel rushed or stressed that it's taking too long. Bucky isn’t in a hurry.
Then it’s suddenly there, crashing through you. "Fuck Bucky, fuck you're gonna make me come." "So good for me, let me feel you come on my fingers," he urges. "I'm going to lick them clean afterward so make sure you get them nice and wet for me. I want as much as you'll give me." The climax reaches its peak and you come with a cry of his name, body convulsing and your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair.
"Just like that doll," he smiles up at you and holds your gaze when he pulls out his fingers and sucks them clean, moaning while he does. It's a filthy sound, but it turns you on as if he didn't just make you come for the third time. Then he dives in between your legs again, licking at your skin and your soaked hole. Letting go of his hair all you can do is just lie there, writhing, as he somehow coaxes a fourth orgasm out of you.
“Fuck me,” you plead when he pulls back. “I need you inside me Bucky.” This time he takes pity on you and moves away to take off his clothes. When he’s naked he kneels between your legs again and you spread them as wide as you can. "Want me, doll?" he asks with a smirk. He swipes his cock through your mess and then uses his hand to coat himself with you. "Yes," is all you can say. Both you and Bucky stare as he pushes his dick into you, filling you up completely. Of course, he takes it torturously slow this time too.
"This feels better than any dream I've ever had," he whispers almost in awe. You grip his biceps and arch into him, pushing him deeper, faster. That makes him tsk but smiles at the same time as he pushes the rest of the way, finally seating himself. Without giving you a chance to relax he starts fucking you, his cock pushes perfectly against your insides, pulling sounds from you that you haven't made in years.
He sits back on his heels lifting your ass effortlessly until your weight is resting on your shoulders and neck. It's like he is in a trance, pulling you onto his cock over and over again. Your body is his, your mind has fled, and all you see and feel is just him all around you. His eyes keep changing between his dick filling your cunt, your bouncing tits, and your half-lit eyes as if he is not sure where to look. "Mine," he rasps and thrusts hard to empathize the word. "All mine. Say it."
It takes some time for your brain to connect to your mouth and form the words but his gaze never leaves you. "Yours," you whimper. "I'm yours, Bucky." There is a familiar heat low in your belly that's steadily spreading through your limbs. It makes you wiggle and move because it's overwhelming. He is overwhelming in the best sense. Whining you reach down to rub yourself but he slaps your hand away. "I thought I told you, it's mine. I own this cunt. If you wanna touch yourself you have to ask permission." It's as close to a growl as is humanly possible and you don't understand how he can be so cognizant right now, because your brain is like putty. "Can I please rub my clit Bucky, I wanna come on your cock so bad," you cry.
"Good girl," he praises, and when he calls you that, your mouth falls open with a keening sound, gripping the sheets even harder, pulling at them because you want to come so bad. "Do it, show me how you get off when you're alone in bed without me." Everything is slippery and sensitive when you start with your fingers and you immediately know it's going to go fast. With his previous words in mind, you ask. "Can I come?" He meets your eyes with a wicked smile. "Fast learner. Yeah, you can come
 when I tell you."
You rip your hand away, afraid you might fall over the edge at any second. The sound out of your throat is almost a sob. "Don't be like that, doll, I thought you said you couldn't do it more times?" "I can-I can! As many times as you want just please let me come." "Fuck, I like it when you beg with my cock in you." But he doesn't say anything else, just continues fucking you. He's not even winded while you're straining your entire body. Your hand wants to move back, anything to relieve the pressure inside you but Bucky was very clear and you don’t want to disobey him.
Then he pulls out and drops you onto the bed, but you don't get to relax because he flips you onto your stomach and pushes one of your knees up to the side before he presses in. His dick hits your G-spot dead on and you scream into the pillow under you. Bucky chuckles right by your ear. "Guess I found it." He's merciless, his hips hit your ass hard and if it weren't for his weight pressing you down you would soon hit the headboard.
"Bucky!" you wail because it's too much. You're losing the last pieces of your mind to the sheer force of the pleasure and you're scared you're never going to be able to come back to yourself. Then his hand presses in between you and the mattress. "Rub yourself on my fingers, make yourself cum. Fuck my cock and come all over me doll." You brace yourself as best you can and move your hips as he keeps almost completely still, just shallow thrusts in stark comparison to what he was doing to you just moments ago.
His fingers slide along your clit, his cock brushing your G-spot over and over again. You're breathless, sweat breaking out along your skin, but the climax you're chasing will be well worth it. You just know it.
"I can't fill you up until I’ve felt you come around me," he grunts, his voice tight with holding back. You whimper, the feeling of fire flushing your whole body, and building up to an eruption like no other. "Yes, yes, yes," he chants low in your ear. "That's it, come for me, make me proud. Fuck it feels so good." And he starts moving again "I'm going to fill you fucking full of my cum. That's it!"
The heat in you breaks and you come with a shout of his name, shaking under him. It gets even more intense when Bucky finishes right behind you, groaning your name. He collapses on top of you but his hips are still moving, slowly, as if he doesn’t want it to ever end. Neither would you but your body is wrecked.
When he finally rolls off, you're so close to falling asleep, but he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Pee." He points and you want to tell him that you know the drill, this isn't your first time, but all that comes out is a grumble before he closes the door behind him and you sit down on the toilet.
When you're done, you stumble out and have a moment of panic, thinking he left. But then the door opens and Bucky returns with two bottles of water, handing you one before leading you to the bed and sitting you down on the edge. Gratefully you drink and lean against his shoulder before asking. "How do you feel?" "Better than I have in a long time," he answers, kissing your forehead. You chuckle. "Yeah I have a magical pussy, it can cure anything," you joke and it makes him laugh. "You should get back to quarantine," you comment. "Before anyone notices." He shakes his head. "No I'm staying here, I'm never leaving you again." He takes the bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table together with his own. Then he crawls beneath the sheets and you go after him, letting him envelop you in a tight embrace before you fall asleep.
Alarms blare and you wake with a start. "FRIDAY what's going on?" you ask out into the room. “Sergeant Barnes has escaped his confinement.” The voice echoes through the room. You sigh and glare at Bucky grumbling beside you, like the loud signal is just a regular alarm clock. "FRIDAY please inform the team that Bucky is here and everything is fine."
A second later the sound dies and with a sigh you get up to pull on yesterday's discarded t-shirt and find a pair of pants. Right when you're done there is a knock on the door and Steve asks, "Everything okay in there?" You open the door enough to show yourself. "We're fine, he broke out during the night and came here." "Oh," Steve says and there is a hint of blush on his cheeks.
Then you feel a presence behind you and Bucky’s arm goes around your waist. "Mine," he says and you can't see him but he's probably glaring daggers at Steve who backs away. "We'll be okay, I'll alert FRIDAY if I need help," you tell Steve. When you close the door Bucky turns you before pushing you up against it and kissing you hard. "Mine," he mumbles against your lips. "Fucking caveman," you tell him. He grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder. "I'll show you caveman," he says and carries you to the bed
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airplanelanding · 23 days ago
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r/relationship_advice
u/smashedcucumbers
My (26M) Roommate (28M) kissed me and I don't know what to do now.
So, for context, my roommate (28M) and I (26M) are both straight men. For privacy, I will call him RM, for roommate. Onto the background.
So, RM is an author — or, attempts to be one. He has a lot of potential but squanders it all on writing shitty porn for money. I have read, and still do read, his work. The skill is present, but he doesn't lean into it.
I am very rich. I don't understand what it's like to not have money or worry where my next meal will come from, and after a lot of introspection and discussion with him, I acknowledge this privilege. Monetarily, and familially, I am very lucky. This isn't to brag, or to say I have no struggles of my own (believe me, I do), but purely to add context.
I offered to pay his bills, etc., so he could write what he wanted but he refused most help because he didn't want to be "just some sugar baby" (???) — in the end, he only moved into my apartment and let me cover the rent.
We have been living together for 2.5 years now.
With the background out of the way, I'll get into why I actually made this post, now.
Last night, RM and I were having another argument over his writing. Since moving in, he has let me begun editing & beta reading his work. I have a formal degree in literature and editing, but don't do it for work. Needless to say, I know what I'm doing.
We argue a lot over his writing. Something about last night's fight was different, though. It was more tense than usual. Ever since the power went out last week — during which we had to share my bed for warmth — there has been a strange energy between us, and I guess it all bubbled over during this fight.
I don't even really remember the details. It was about a scene in which the tension between the protag of his novel and his latest love interest snapped and they fell into a passionate night. I expressed how unnatural it felt in context with the rest of the chapter, and how sudden, and that there needed to be more proper build-up. RM disagreed. I then pointed out the kissing itself and how unrealistic it was. We went back and forth like this a bit, egging each other on and arguing.
At one point, he said something along the lines of, "like you could do better," and I snapped back that maybe I could. He laughed and said he'd like to see my try and, without thinking — in the heat of the moment — said fine, go ahead. The silence was...deafening I tried to backpedal immediately when I realized what I said — again we are both straight men. I don't even know why my head went there, let alone why I said it.
After that, it gets fuzzy. All I remember is one second I was stumbling over my words trying to backpedal, the next we were on the couch and I was in his lap. I came back to my senses when he tried to take my shirt off and, as ashamed as I am to admit it, I've been hiding at my older brother's house since.
I don't want to go back home while my head is still such a mess, but I think my brother & his husband are starting to get sick of my intrusion.
Reddit, what do I do? He hasn't tried to contact me all day, or at all since I fled last night. I've never questioned my sexuality before, but now I don't know what to think. I'm straight, but...I didn't hate it?
I'm really at a loss.
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🔰 AutoModerator MOD ‱ 7 hrs ‱ Welcome to r/relationshi...
u/streetcat 6hrs
Ever since the power went out last week — during which we had to share my bed for warmth — there has been a strange energy between us
bro...you cannot be serious.
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u/helpful-idiot 6hrs 🎂
Plain and simple, you need to talk to him. This isn't something that will just go away if you hide long enough. This needs real communication.
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u/endoftheline 6 hrs
we are both straight men
Are you sure about that? Genuinely. Has he ever told you he's straight? Brought home girls? Anything concrete?
he hasn't tried to contact me
It's likely he's just as panicked as you are, OP. You seem like close friends and, sexuality aside, this complicates that friendship.
what do I do?
1. Breathe.
2. Thank your brother and BIL for their hospitality.
3. Go home and talk to your friend.
Regardless of the outcome, you both deserve an honest conversation with all your cards on the table. Especially if he's having an identity crisis of his own. Have some faith in your friendship and work through this together.
edit: spelling
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u/smashedcucumbers OP ‱ 5hrs
Thank you.
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u/smashedcucumbers OP ‱ 4hrs
I'm going to talk to him. I might update properly later. Thank you all for the responses.
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halo-eater · 2 years ago
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hi! hello! hi! idk if i have told you before but you are literally just so os nice and considerate and i appreciate you so much! also based as fuck, i love reading through your posts, i usually refrain from adding ob things or whatver bc i am white and european so i don't want to stick my opiniond on your stuff but i always read through them!
anyway, i hope you're having a great day or night or morning or whatever time it is for you<33
emmi that is so so kind of you. secretly I'm actually a huge bitch but I'm only allowed to be bitchy sometimes as a treat. it's so easy to be nice to you actually you are so chill and funny and epic and friendly and you don't make kind interactions difficult at all.
also you are 300% still allowed to have thoughts and opinions near me I prommy. you may be white and european but you're a person with perspectives and experiences that are just as real as anyone else's. like just don't be combative with or try to talk over poc about poc topics and you're literally fine. you have a limited perspective on certain issues but so does literally everyone else on earth. tbh within any axis of privilege/oppression, the culture of Any Person With Privilege I Don't Have Is Inherently Actively Oppressing Me And Needs To Shut Up Forever can be cathartic for disadvantaged people but ultimately leads to a lot of social regression in the long run. unpacking and disassembling systems of oppression can only be effectively accomplished as a dialogue, not a TED Talk.
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mahalachives · 18 days ago
Text
Part 5: The Sound of Her Silence
TW: This chapter contains intense emotional distress, depictions of self-harm, mental health deterioration, themes of suicidal ideation, fever-induced hallucinations, and emotional abuse. Reader discretion is advised.
Please take care of yourself and skip or pause if needed. 💛
Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader
Genre: angst, romcom, humor, fish out of water reader, canon (ish)
Summary: Murdered after a late-night study session in the modern world, you awaken in Prythian—still yourself, but with Fae features and the infamous title of Beron’s cold-hearted and ruthless daughter.
Then, fate snaps the mating bond into place between you and the shadowsinger, Azriel—who rejects it so fiercely, even the magic recoils.
You died a healer. You woke up a villain. Now fate’s mated you to who wants nothing to do with either—you’ll prove them all wrong, one heartbeat at a time.
Between Two Fires - Masterlist
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The Great Hall fell into uneasy silence after the Night Court's entrance, their arrival a deliberate provocation.
Even Beron hesitated, his ever-burning flames receding as if inhaling before a storm.
The flames illuminated the High Lord's face, calculating, dangerous, a predator considering his options.
Rhysand stepped forward, power coiled tight beneath his skin, a leashed tempest. "Lord Beron," he said with cool precision, "we come regarding matters of mutual interest between our courts."
Beron's voice, low and sharp, sliced through the tension. "You enter my court uninvited. That alone is a breach of protocol. Give me one reason not to treat it as an act of war."
"Because war would serve neither of us," Rhysand answered smoothly. "Not over what is, by all appearances, a personal complication."
Your eyes were drawn unbidden to Azriel.
He stood apart from Rhysand and Cassian, his body angled as if bracing for a fight. His face was impassive, carved from stone, shadows held tight around him like armor.
Yet they strained against his control, reaching toward you in aborted, desperate movements before he willed them still.
Where one tendril briefly brushed the flagstone, a frost pattern etched itself into the ground and faded, leaving behind a scent like winter pine.
The mating bond flared in your chest, a barbed hook that twisted with every heartbeat, golden warmth laced with unbearable pressure.
Your lungs constricted. Your fingers trembled.
Every instinct screamed to move toward him, to close the unbearable distance.
Beron's gaze flicked from you to Azriel, sharp with calculation. "Your shadowsinger shows an unusual concern for my daughter." His fingers tapped once against his throne, embers spiraling upward. "Is this intrusion about the mating bond that threatens both our courts' standing with the others?"
Eris stepped forward, his copper hair gleaming in the firelight. "Perhaps we should hear what the Night Court has to say." His voice was silk over steel, practiced and smooth. "After all, we wouldn't want to appear inhospitable."
Beron shot his eldest son a withering glance. "Your hospitality has already cost us enough, Eris."
"Among other things," Rhysand replied to Beron's earlier question. "Though this may not be the appropriate setting to discuss such matters."
The doors to the Great Hall swung open, and Lady of the Autumn Court entered.
Your mother moved with quiet grace, her russet gown flowing like autumn leaves around her slender frame. She paused at the threshold, taking in the scene with eyes that betrayed nothing of her thoughts.
"You weren't summoned," Beron said coldly, not bothering to turn fully toward his wife.
She inclined her head slightly. "I heard we had guests." Her voice was soft but steady. "It would be remiss of me not to welcome them properly."
Beron's flames flared, casting harsh shadows across his face.
"Always interfering where you're not wanted. Like mother, like daughter." His gaze cut to you, contempt evident. "Both of you, useless except for the trouble you cause."
Your fingers curled into fists at your sides, rage building in your chest alongside the pull of the bond. The insult spoken so casually, so cruelly, made something crack inside you.
Eris's face remained composed, but his eyes hardened to amber chips. "The Night Court representatives are waiting." His voice was still controlled, but carried an edge sharp enough to cut. "Perhaps we should continue this discussion elsewhere."
Your mother's face remained impassive, a mask perfected over centuries of such treatment. Only the slight whitening of her knuckles betrayed her reaction.
Beron's nostrils flared. The flames around him crackled and dimmed, reflecting the push and pull of his control.
Heat pulsed in waves through the hall, making the air shimmer. At last, he waved a hand. "The western salon. I will join you shortly."
As the Night Court turned to leave, Beron snapped his gaze back to you. "You. Walk with me."
You stood, legs stiff beneath the weight of your father's fury, and fell into step beside him.
"I'll accompany them," your mother said quietly, moving toward the Night Court.
Beron grabbed her wrist, flames licking at his fingers, dangerously close to her skin. "You will return to your chambers and stay there until I send for you."
"Let her go." The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, quiet but firm.
Eris shifted slightly, positioning himself between your father and mother. "The Night Court is watching," he murmured, his voice for Beron's ears alone. "Consider the impression we make."
Beron released her wrist with a shove. "Get out of my sight."
Your mother's eyes met yours briefly, a warning, a plea for caution before she bowed her head and withdrew, dignity intact despite the humiliation.
Eris lingered a moment, his eyes meeting Azriel's with cold assessment. "Watch yourself, shadowsinger," he murmured, too low for the others to hear. "Beron's patience has limits, and so does mine."
He followed after Beron, silent as a blade at your back.
"Control yourself," Beron hissed at you as you walked. "Your mother's weakness is bad enough without you adding to our shame."
Rage simmered beneath your skin, hot as Autumn fire. "She is not weak. She never has been."
Beron's laugh was cruel. "Defending her now? Where was that courage when she needed it?"
The word struck like a physical blow, dragging memories forward, sterile white rooms with strange instruments, laughter that didn't belong in this realm, voices discussing you as if you weren't present.
A life before Prythian, before the Autumn Court. Before you were—whatever you are now.
The western salon was warmer, quieter. Sunlight poured through amber-stained windows, gilding the dust in the air. Rhysand and Cassian stood near the hearth, speaking in low tones. Azriel remained by the door, positioned like a sentry, his back straight, expression unreadable.
When your eyes met his, the bond shuddered.
Golden light rippled beneath your skin and his, cold fire racing along your veins.
Azriel didn't move. Didn't flinch.
His shadows curled in tight coils around him, containing the flare before it could escape, but not before one shadow darted toward you, caressing your cheek with a touch like frost-covered silk.
Your heart stumbled in your chest. Blood rushed in your ears.
Beron took his seat and gestured curtly to the chair beside him. "Speak, Rhysand. Then leave."
Rhysand sat, every inch the High Lord, his posture relaxed and voice level. "Recent events call into question the stability of our courts' relationship. An unexpected mating bond. An attempted crossing into another court's lands. An unauthorized rescue."
"My daughter's choices are her own," Beron said coldly.
"They become our concern when they involve one of mine," Rhysand answered, unblinking. "And when they nearly end in bloodshed."
You stared down at your hands. The bond tugged with every beat of your heart, flaring whenever Azriel so much as shifted his stance. His silence was deafening, a void that demanded to be filled.
Beron leaned back, his expression glacial. "The bond was rejected. That is the end of it."
"It is not so easily discarded," Rhysand said. "You know that. A rejected bond leaves... consequences. Dangerous ones."
Beron sneered. "Do not lecture me about consequences, boy. If your shadowsinger cannot stomach the match, that is no longer my concern."
"Then consider this a precaution," Rhysand replied, steel beneath the silk. "Allow my spymaster ten minutes alone with her. To ensure there are no... lingering complications that might destabilize Autumn's borders or create vulnerabilities Night's enemies could exploit."
A long silence followed.
Beron's fingers twitched, flames licking at his knuckles, crawling up his wrists like living things.
At last, he gestured dismissively. "Ten minutes. Then she returns to her chambers, under guard."
Rhysand rose. "Cassian, Eris, shall we?"
Eris unfolded himself from his chair with feline grace. "Of course." His gaze swept over you, lingering on the faint glow of the bond beneath your skin.
They filed out, one by one. When the door shut behind them, silence settled like ash. The only sound was the crackle of the hearth and your treacherous, thundering heart.
Azriel did not move.
You waited, the pressure in your chest mounting until each breath felt like drawing in shards of glass. He watched you like a stranger, shadows still circling his boots, though they shivered with what looked like restraint.
"You shouldn't have come," he said at last. His voice was low. Controlled. Ice, not fire. Each syllable precisely measured. "Not to the war camp."
Your mouth dried. "I didn't mean-"
"I know what you meant," he interrupted, sharp enough to cut to bone. "But intent doesn't undo consequences."
You stood, unable to remain still under the weight of his voice, every muscle drawn taut. "The bond-"
"Is inconvenient," he said flatly.
His shadows flinched at the words, contradicting his tone.
One of them drifted toward you before curling back like a burned leaf, leaving a trail of frost that melted instantly in the Autumn Court's heat.
You swallowed. "I thought if I said goodbye, it would ease the pain."
His expression didn't change, but his jaw tightened fractionally, tendons straining beneath scarred skin.
"And the lake? Was that meant to ease something too?"
You couldn't answer. Not truthfully. Your fingernails bit into your palms.
"I wanted it to end," you whispered. "I thought death might sever the bond."
His shadows stilled. The silence that followed was so complete it rang in your ears. The temperature in the room plummeted, your breath clouding before your face.
He stepped forward once, slow and deliberate.
Not close. Never close.
"I've seen bonds form between killers. Between traitors. Between those who should be enemies." His voice dropped lower. "They don't care about virtue or wisdom. Only connection. And sometimes, connection is a curse that will tear down everything we've built."
You stared at him, heart splintering. "Is that what I am to you? A curse?"
He didn't answer right away.
When he did, his voice was quiet, almost gentle, and that gentleness cut deeper than any blade. "You're not the same female I knew."
A breath. A pause. His shadows twisted around him, agitated.
"But you have caused too much pain." I can't trust myself around you hung unspoken between you.
The bond pulsed again, a flare of pain so acute it forced a gasp from your lips.
You staggered slightly.
Azriel didn't move to catch you, but his shadows lurched forward before he brutally reined them back.
You steadied yourself against a table, knuckles white. "If I could change it-"
"You can't," he said, more sharply than before. "And neither can I. Not without destroying what keeps both our courts safe."
His gaze locked with yours, centuries of survival and sacrifice written in the tight lines around his mouth. "The Night Court has enemies who would use any vulnerability. The Autumn Court the same. This bond is a weakness neither of us can afford."
He looked at you as if weighing something, then added, "I don't hate you. But I don't believe this bond is something either of us should accept. Not at the cost it would demand."
Another breath passed, then two. He reached for the door, shadows reluctantly trailing after him.
"I came to say goodbye," he said without turning around. "And to make it clear. I reject you. I dont want anything to do with you."
His shadows curled toward you one final time, a defiance of his words—their touch colder than winter, gentler than a lover's caress as they traced the contours of your face. Then they vanished, ripped back to their master.
"Goodbye," he said.
You couldn't speak.
Not as he opened the door and left without a backward glance. Not as the door clicked shut behind him, sealing you in the quiet.
You rose from your chair, legs unsteady, hand pressed to your chest where the bond burned like a brand. It pulsed once more, then dulled to a low throb.
Still there. Still aching.
But colder now. Just like him.
You moved toward the door, vision blurring.
You needed to be away from here, away from the lingering scent of pine and winter that his shadows had left behind. Each step felt heavier than the last as you pushed through the doors and into the hallway, not caring who might see the tears that now threatened to spill.
The corridors stretched before you, all amber and ruby and burnished gold.
Suffocating.
You quickened your pace, heading for your chambers, the only place where you might find a moment's peace.
A figure stepped from an alcove, blocking your path. Your mother—no, not your mother. The Lady of Autumn Court.
She stood before you, her eyes taking in your trembling hands, the faint golden glow still visible beneath your skin, the tears you could no longer hold back. Something in her expression softened, a recognition of pain she understood all too well.
You tried to step around her, to maintain the distance that had always existed between you, heightened by the knowledge that you were not truly her daughter. That you came from another world entirely, a world of skyscrapers and smartphones, not magic and immortal fae.
But she simply opened her arms.
The gesture broke something loose inside you.
Memories flashed through your mind, another mother in another life, hugs after scraped knees, whispered comfort during thunderstorms.
A life stolen from you.
You stepped into her embrace, burying your face against her shoulder. Her arms closed around you, unexpectedly strong, smelling of cinnamon and woodsmoke. The dam within you burst completely.
Silent tears soaked into the silk of her dress as she held you tighter, one hand cradling the back of your head like you were a child. Your shoulders shook with the force of your grief—grief for the bond, for the cold goodbye, for the life you once knew, for the truth you couldn't speak.
She made no move to pull away, asked no questions you couldn't answer. Her heartbeat steady against yours, a counterpoint to the painful throb of the rejected bond.
In that moment, in that corridor of amber and shadows, something shifted between you.
Not blood, not shared history, but something equally powerful—understanding. Compassion.
A choice to be family when nothing in fate had designed you to be.
You clung to her, this woman you barely knew, as the golden bond-light flickered beneath your skin and tears continued to fall.
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Days passed in a gray haze of pain and emptiness. 
Confined to your chambers under Beron's orders, you barely left your bed.
The mating bond, once a dull ache you could somehow endure, had transformed into something monstrous in the wake of Azriel's formal rejection.
It pulled and twisted beneath your skin, the golden light pulsing visibly through your nightgown at all hours, casting eerie shadows across your walls.
"Make it stop," you whispered into your pillow, the words becoming a mantra as hours bled into days. "Please, make it stop."
Food remained untouched on trays. Water turned stale beside your bed. Sleep came only in fitful bursts, often jolting you awake when the bond would suddenly flare as if sensing Azriel across the distance.
Each time, the pain would be fresh again, as if his rejection had just occurred.
On the third day, you couldn't leave your bed.
Your limbs felt leaden, unresponsive to your commands. The bond's golden light had spread, no longer contained to your chest but threading through your entire body in a complex network that resembled veins of fire beneath your skin.
"Make it stop," you begged the empty room, your voice cracking with disuse. "Make it stop."
Briar came and went, her face increasingly drawn with worry. She bathed your forehead with cool cloths that brought momentary relief, helped you sip water when your throat became too parched to speak. But even her gentle care couldn't touch the agony of the bond.
"The healers say-" she began on the fourth day, only to fall silent when you shook your head weakly.
"No more healers," you whispered. "They can't help."
The rejection was killing you.
Not quickly with merciful swiftness, but slowly, systematically.
First your appetite, then your sleep, then your strength.
Soon, you knew, it would take your mind, and finally, your life.
By the fifth day, the pain had become so unbearable that you could no longer contain your screams.
They tore from your throat in ragged bursts, startling servants and causing guards to peer nervously through your door.
Ember, your faithful flame bunny, tried desperately to comfort you, nuzzling against your tear-stained cheeks and offering his warmth. But even his presence brought only fleeting solace.
"Make it stop," you sobbed between screams, your voice raw and broken. "Please, just make it stop."
Night fell, and with it came fever.
Your body burned from within, as if the bond had ignited your very blood.
The golden light beneath your skin pulsed in nauseating waves, brightening and dimming with each labored beat of your heart. Shadows danced strangely across your walls, though no source of light moved to cast them.
In your delirium, you thought you saw your human body, lying peacefully in a hospital bed, monitors beeping steadily beside it.
The vision taunted you—safety and normalcy just beyond reach. You stretched your hand toward it, only to watch it dissolve like mist.
"I want to go home," you wept, curling into yourself as another wave of pain crashed through you. "I just want to go home."
The latch on your door clicked softly, the sound barely audible over your ragged breathing.
You didn't bother looking up. Another healer, no doubt, come to offer useless remedies for a condition beyond their understanding.
"So, this is what a mating bond does," said a familiar voice, cool with equal parts disdain and clinical interest. "How remarkably... undignified."
You forced your eyes open to find Eris standing at the foot of your bed, his amber eyes assessing your deteriorated state with detached calculation.
He held a small wooden box in one hand, its surface carved with intricate symbols you didn't recognize.
"Go away," you managed, your voice barely audible. "Can't... help."
"Can't I?" A smirk played at the corners of his mouth as he set the box on your nightstand. "Your arrogance persists even in this state. How typical."
His dismissive tone convinced you he saw only what he expected to see. His cruel sister, temporarily weakened. He didn't suspect you were someone else entirely.
Eris opened the box with careful precision, removing a small vial of dark liquid.
"Do you know what this is?" When you didn't respond, he continued, "It's called ash tea. Death to our kind in sufficient quantity, it disintegrates our magic from within, dissolves our organs rather spectacularly." He swirled the vial, studying the contents with academic interest. "But in minute, carefully measured amounts..."
"Poison?" you whispered, hope flaring briefly.
Eris laughed softly. "Not as you're thinking, no. Though many would consider offering this to a High Fae treasonous." He sat carefully on the edge of your bed, an unexpected intimacy that emphasized the seriousness of the moment. "This particular blend contains ash wood bark, ground fine enough to enter the bloodstream without killing you outright, but potent enough to... dampen certain magical connections."
Understanding dawned slowly through your pain-addled mind. "The bond?"
"Precisely." Eris uncorked the vial, the scent of earth and something acrid filling the air between you. "It cannot be broken, but it can be... muted. Made bearable. At least temporarily."
You tried to sit up, wincing as the movement sent fresh waves of agony radiating from your chest. "Why would you... help me?"
Eris's expression remained carefully neutral, though something flickered in his eyes, not quite compassion, but perhaps a cold form of practicality. "Let's just say having the Lady of Autumn Court driven mad by bond rejection doesn't serve anyone's interests. Particularly not when diplomatic relations with the Night Court are so delicate."
He lifted the vial. "This won't be pleasant. And the effects are temporary. A day, perhaps two. But it should bring enough relief to keep you from it."
Hope and suspicion warred within you. This was Eris, after all—known for manipulation and political maneuvering, not acts of charity.
"What's the... price?" you asked, even as you eyed the vial with desperate longing.
A smile ghosted across his lips. "Smart question. There is, of course, a cost. The ash will dampen the bond, but it also suppresses all magic—including healing magic. You'll be weaker, more vulnerable to injury. And if you take too much, too often..." He shrugged eloquently. "Well, that's a risk you'll have to decide if you're willing to take."
Another wave of bond-agony crashed through you, drawing a whimper from your raw throat. The golden light beneath your skin pulsed viciously, as if the bond itself protested this conversation.
"Give it to me," you gasped, reaching weakly for the vial.
Eris held it to your lips. "Drink all of it. And brace yourself. This will hurt before it helps."
The liquid burned like fire as it slid down your throat, leaving a trail of blistering pain in its wake. You gagged, nearly retching as your body instinctively tried to reject the poison. Eris held you steady, his grip surprisingly gentle despite his usual coldness.
"Breathe," he instructed calmly. "The first wave will hit in approximately thirty seconds. Try not to scream too loudly. The servants are already terrified enough."
The pain began in your stomach, a spreading heat that quickly evolved into liquid agony. It raced through your veins like molten metal, seeking out the golden threads of the mating bond wherever they had infiltrated your system. You bit down hard on your lip to keep from screaming, tasting blood as your teeth pierced skin.
"Good," Eris murmured, observing with cold efficiency. "If you survive the next few minutes, relief should follow."
You couldn't respond, too consumed by the battle raging within your body. The ash tea burned through you like wildfire, while the mating bond fought to maintain its hold.
Golden light flared beneath your skin, brighter than ever before, illuminating your chamber as if noon sun streamed through the windows.
Just when you thought you couldn't bear another second, when death seemed not just welcome but necessary. The pain crested, held for one eternal moment, then began to recede.
The golden light dimmed, not disappearing entirely but retreating, condensing back toward your heart where the bond's core resided. The burning sensation of the ash tea transformed into something cooler, almost numbing, as it wrapped around the bond's tendrils like a smothering blanket.
"There," Eris said, satisfaction evident in his voice. "The worst is over."
You collapsed back against your pillows, gasping for breath. The pain hadn't vanished completely—the bond still pulsed steadily in your chest—but it was... contained.
Manageable. For the first time in days, you could think clearly, breathe without agony slicing through your lungs.
"How do you feel?" Eris asked, assessing you with calculating eyes.
"Like I've been trampled by a herd of horses," you replied honestly, your voice hoarse but stronger. "But... better."
He nodded, seeming pleased with the results of his experiment. "It forms a temporary barrier between you and the bond. It's still there, still active, but its effects are dampened. You should be able to eat, sleep, perhaps even function normally for a brief time."
"Thank you," you whispered, the words entirely genuine.
"Don't thank me yet. It has side effects, headaches, nausea, significant weakening of your healing abilities. A paper cut could take days to close. And when it wears off..."
"The pain returns," you finished for him.
"Precisely. This is not a cure, merely a reprieve." He rose from the bed, returning the empty vial to its box with careful precision. "I have more. Enough for several treatments, if necessary. But using ash too frequently risks permanent damage to your magic, possibly death. It's a temporary solution at best."
You nodded, understanding the limitations but grateful nonetheless for even temporary relief. "Why help me at all?"
"Because a mad Lady of Autumn is a liability to this court," he said finally, his voice carefully devoid of emotion. "And because no one deserves that particular hell. Not even you."
Through your exhaustion, you noticed Eris studying you with an intensity that hadn't been there before. His amber eyes narrowed slightly, head tilted in calculation.
"Rest now," he said, his voice oddly soft. "Sleep while you can."
The suggestion was unnecessary.
Your body, wrung out from days of suffering and the recent battle with the ash tea, was already surrendering to exhaustion. Your eyelids felt impossibly heavy, darkness crowding the edges of your vision.
The last thing you saw before consciousness fled was Eris standing over you, his expression unreadable as he pulled something from his pocket—another vial, this one filled with clear liquid.
"Forgive me, sister," he murmured, though the words seemed to come from very far away. "But you cannot stay here."
Then darkness claimed you completely.
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Far away in the Night Court, in the darkest chamber of the House of Wind, Azriel knelt on the cold stone floor.
Alone, as he preferred. As he required.
His blade—Truth-Teller—lay before him, its edge gleaming in the dim light.
Blood. His blood. Already stained the steel, fresh rivulets running down its length to pool on the stone beneath.
Another wave of pain crashed through the bond, brutal and unrelenting.
Azriel didn't make a sound.
Five centuries of torture and war had taught him that lesson well.
Silence in suffering.
But his body betrayed him, trembling violently as the mating bond seared his insides like molten silver.
With deliberate precision, he picked up the blade and drew it across his chest, adding another perfect line to the row of cuts already marking his skin.
Each one corresponded to a wave of your pain that had reached him through the bond.
Blood for pain. Pain for denial. Denial for protection.
His shadows writhed around him, agitated and distressed by the self-inflicted wounds, but he controlled them with ruthless precision.
Control was all he had left. All he could permit himself.
It was the secret that male Fae carried and females rarely understood.
Rejection hurt the male more. Always.
The Cauldron's cruelest design—to make the one who denied the bond suffer more deeply, more fundamentally, than the one rejected.
The females experienced the pain as something inflicted upon them.
The males felt it as something torn from within them.
He had rejected you. For his family, for his court, for five centuries of history that couldn't be erased by the sudden, incomprehensible appearance of a bond.
Yet with each day that passed, with each wave of agony that pulsed through the connection, his reasons seemed increasingly hollow.
Azriel closed his eyes, mastering the tremors that threatened to overtake his body.
His wings tightened against his back, the membrane between the joints quivering with the effort of maintaining control. Each breath was measured, deliberate, a weapon against the madness that clawed at the edges of his consciousness.
The madness all males faced when denying the mating bond.
His shadows swirled around the wounds on his chest, trying to staunch the bleeding, but he commanded them back.
The physical pain was a lifeline, an anchor to sanity when the bond threatened to drag him into the abyss. Each cut was a reminder, a demarcation between thought and action, between the primal claiming instinct and his hard-won self-control.
"She's not mine," he said aloud, his voice steady despite the war raging within him. "She can't be mine."
His shadows disagreed, stretching southward toward the Autumn Court, toward you, before he wrenched them back with brutal force. They had grown harder to control since the bond formed, increasingly rebellious against his commands where you were concerned.
Just as his mind had grown more fragmented, thoughts circling in patterns he recognized as dangerous.
Possessive. Violent. Obsessive.
Mine to reject. Mine to claim. Mine to punish. Mine to protect.
Another wave of your pain rolled through him, sharper this time, different. Not the steady agony of rejection but something new—something foreign.
His body arched backwards, a wordless snarl escaping through clenched teeth as the unfamiliar sensation burned along the bond.
Something was happening to you. Something was being done to you.
Without conscious thought, Truth-Teller was in his hand again, his grip so tight the scars on his hands whitened. His shadows exploded outward, slashing across the walls in chaotic patterns before he brought them to heel.
"Control," he gasped, the word a prayer and command. "Control."
The foreign sensation continued, burning through the bond for endless minutes before slowly, gradually beginning to recede.
As it faded, the connection itself seemed to dim—not broken, never broken, but muffled.
Distant. As if a veil had fallen between them.
Azriel stared at his bloody hands, at Truth-Teller's gleaming edge, as realization dawned.
Someone had interfered.
Someone had touched what was his.
A low, feral growl built in his chest, shadows coalescing around him like armor. His wings flared wide, bumping against the chamber walls, as pure, primal rage flooded his system. It was the claiming instinct, the mating drive—made worse, not better, by his rejection.
Shadows pooled at his feet, rising up his legs like living things, responding to emotions he refused to name. They whispered to him, ancient and dark,
Find her. Claim her. Kill anyone who stands between.
For one terrible moment, he considered it—giving in to the madness, surrendering to the bond's demands. It would be easier than fighting, easier than the constant war between instinct and reason, between what the bond wanted and what his mind knew was necessary.
The shadows sensed his weakness, surging eagerly in response, already mapping the fastest route to the Autumn Court, to you.
With tremendous effort, Azriel forced them back, confined them to the chamber, to himself. His hands shook with the strain, blood dripping from fresh cuts to the stone below.
"I am not a slave to instinct," he said, each word precise and controlled. "I am not ruled by the bond."
But even as he spoke, he knew it for the lie it was. The mating bond had fundamentally altered him, changed something essential in his makeup. The ruthless control he had maintained for centuries was fracturing, eroding a little more with each denial, each rejection.
Eventually, it would break entirely. And when it did...
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You woke to sunlight and the scent of lavender.
Soft sheets. Linen curtains. A breeze slipped in through the open window, carrying the scent of wild roses and summer heat.
Winnowed here from the heart of Autumn, you were somewhere new—somewhere safe. The ash tea still burned faintly in your bloodstream, muting the mating bond's agony into something distant and bearable.
Not gone. Never gone. But quieter now.
You pushed yourself upright, slow and stiff. Your muscles protested, days of agony had left their mark. Ember stirred at your feet with a warm churr, his tiny pink flame ears twitching lazily as he hopped up onto your lap.
His companion—Sizzle, your second fire bunny—lounged on the windowsill like she owned the house, her tail periodically sparking small holes in the curtains.
"We live another day, troublemakers," you murmured, scratching Ember behind his flaming ears. He purred in response, a sound like kindling catching fire.
Sizzle, apparently jealous of the attention, sneezed dramatically. A tiny fireball shot across the room, hitting the curtain.
You scrambled to pat out the flames while Ember, startled by the sudden movement, jumped onto your pillow and promptly set it ablaze.
"Perfect," you muttered, now frantically swatting at both the curtain and pillow. "Absolutely perfect."
The door opened with a soft click, revealing Lucien Vanserra standing in the threshold, one brow arched. His russet hair was pulled back in a neat queue, his metal eye whirring as it assessed the smoldering chaos.
"I see your therapy animals are hard at work," he remarked dryly.
"They're very passionate about interior redesign," you replied, finally extinguishing the pillow.
Ember, unperturbed by the commotion he'd caused, began grooming himself smugly. Sizzle hopped down from the windowsill to join him, leaving a trail of tiny scorch marks across the blanket.
Lucien stepped inside, moving with the fluid grace of a High Fae male. Despite his seemingly casual demeanor, his hand never strayed far from the ornate knife at his hip.
"Eris said you were stable," he said. "I see he was being optimistic."
"I'm perfectly stable," you protested. "It's these two that are hazardous."
As if on cue, both bunnies looked up at Lucien with identical innocent expressions, their flame ears flickering like halos.
A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Why am I here?" you asked, gathering Ember in your arms before he could cause more damage.
"My home. Border estate between Spring and Autumn," he replied. "Far enough from Summer that their water-wielders can't sense your fire magic."
"No, I mean why here. Why you?"
His jaw clenched. "Because Eris didn't trust anyone else to keep you alive."
A beat of silence. You stared at him. "Beron knows I'm gone?"
Lucien nodded grimly. "He's furious. You disappearing was one thing. But being bonded with the Night Court's shadowsinger... that made you a liability."
You swallowed hard. "He'll come after me."
"Yes," Lucien said simply. "But not here. Not yet. The border glamours I've crafted keep this place hidden from most eyes."
Ember, sensing your distress, nuzzled against your hand, his warm fur oddly comforting. Sizzle hopped closer, squeaking indignantly, as if personally offended by Beron's threat to you.
Eris swept into the doorway, elegant and deadly in fine Autumn Court attire. His eyes immediately landed on the singed pillow, then the bunnies, then you.
"You're awake," he added, gaze sliding over you. "Good. You were very dramatic about nearly dying."
You offered him a flat look. "You drugged me. Forgive me for not being chipper."
Eris just smiled thinly. "You're welcome."
Ember, evidently unimpressed by Eris's entrance, turned his back on your eldest brother and began methodically cleaning his paws. Sizzle, however, puffed up to twice her size, her tiny flame ears growing larger as she stared Eris down.
Lucien and Eris stared at each other, tension crackling like fire beneath still water. Centuries of history hung between them—betrayal, silence, blood.
"Why bring me here?" you asked again.
Eris's gaze darkened. "Because Beron watches me too closely. And because our charming brother has experience managing broken bonds."
Lucien's jaw ticked. "I'm not your pawn."
"No. Just the only one who's already walked through fire." Eris's eyes flicked to the scars on Lucien's face. "Literally and metaphorically." He continued. "I have business in the human lands. Autumn's emissaries report unusual activity," Eris said, already stepping back toward the door. "I'll return in three days. Try not to explode before then."
And then he was gone, leaving behind only the scent of embers and spice—not bothering to walk out, but winnowing away in a flash of copper light.
Ember triumphantly squeaked, as if he had personally driven Eris away, while Sizzle hopped in an excited circle, leaving a ring of tiny burn marks on the floor.
"Your security detail is very effective," Lucien remarked, his lips twitching.
"They're very selective about who they allow near me," you replied, patting the bed for them to return. Ember immediately hopped back onto your lap, while Sizzle took a detour to investigate Lucien's boots.
"So," you said, "Beron's hunting me."
Lucien nodded. "And I'm keeping you off his radar. For now."
Your mind flashed suddenly to that moment in the Autumn Court—Azriel's shadows coiling away from you, his face carved from ice as he rejected you.
The memory sent a bolt of pain through the bond, sharp enough to make you gasp. Golden light flared beneath your skin, pulsing once, twice, before the ash tea smothered it again.
Ember chirped in alarm, nudging your hand with his warm nose. Sizzle abandoned her investigation of Lucien to race back to your side, both bunnies pressing against you as if trying to absorb your pain.
Lucien tensed, his hand moving to his knife, not drawing it, but ready. "Breathe through it," he instructed, voice steady. "Don't fight it."
You nodded, forcing air into your lungs. "Why help me?" you managed after a moment.
He paused, then said, "Because someone should have helped me."
Your hand drifted to your chest, fingers pressing lightly over the steady, bruised thrum of the bond. "Azriel told me it wasn't real. That we weren't anything."
Something flashed across Lucien's face—recognition, perhaps. Understanding. His metal eye whirred softly. "But you felt it."
You nodded. "Still do."
Ember, as if understanding, rested his tiny paw on your hand where it pressed against your chest. His warmth seeped into your skin, a small comfort against the ache.
Lucien exhaled, his gaze distant. "It never fully goes away. You just get better at living around the ache."
"For how long will the tea work?"
"A week. Maybe less." His voice was clinical, practiced. "It gives you time to think without drowning."
"Think about what?"
"Whether you're going to keep breaking every time he turns away," Lucien said quietly.
Sizzle, who had been unnaturally still and attentive, suddenly hopped toward Lucien and squeaked forcefully, as if disagreeing with his pessimism. She punctuated her argument by sneezing a perfect smoke ring.
Lucien blinked down at her. "Was that... intentional?"
"She has opinions," you said, unable to stop a small smile. "Strong ones."
You looked at him. "And you? With your bond?"
His jaw tightened. "I've learned to stay standing."
You let silence sit between you. "It hurts."
"It should," he replied. "It means you cared."
You stroked Ember's back as he nestled against your ribs. "Azriel's in love with Elain," you said. I
The bond flared again at the shadowsinger's name, a sharp, twisting pain that made your fingers curl into fists. Golden light rippled beneath your skin, illuminating your veins like molten metal.
Lucien didn't flinch. "Yes."
Your eyes widened slightly. "Elain is your mate."
He nodded once, the motion tight and controlled. "Yes."
You gave a sharp, humorless laugh. "So my mate wants yours. And yours won't even look at you."
Heat surged through your body—not the bond this time, but your own power.
Flames licked between your fingers, dancing along your knuckles. Ember chirped in alarm, scurrying to safety, while Sizzle watched in what appeared to be admiration.
Lucien moved with startling speed, his hand closing around your wrist. Not roughly, but firmly. "Control it," he said, voice low. "You'll burn down the house."
The absurdity of the moment—the deadly serious warning about your power—broke through your anger. You took a deep breath, pulling the fire back inside.
"Sorry," you murmured, extending a gentle hand to coax Ember back.
Lucien's smile didn't reach his eyes. "The Cauldron has a twisted sense of humor."
"I'm done," you said, voice barely a whisper. "Done chasing someone who only ever turns around to run."
The moment the words left your mouth, the bond gave a violent pulse, as if in protest.
You gasped, pressing a hand to your chest as golden light spilled between your fingers.
Lucien looked at you for a long moment. "Good."
"I keep thinking if I'm better, softer, less angry, he'll see me. But I could walk through fire and he'd still stare at the smoke."
His voice was quiet. "I know the feeling."
You wiped at your face with the edge of the sheet. "So what now?"
Lucien's mismatched gaze found yours. "Now we learn to walk forward. With the ache. Without them."
You offered a watery smile. "We'll be strong for each other."
He returned it, faint but real. "The Vanserra way."
You wiped tears from your cheek. "Honestly? They're both walking red flags."
Lucien blinked. "Red what?"
"It's a saying," you explained quickly. "Red flags mean warning signs. Bad news. Like signals in battle, but for people."
"So I've been ignoring battle signals for decades," Lucien said dryly.
"Exactly. And Azriel..." You sighed. "Shadow and steel and silence don't make for healthy relationships."
Lucien's laugh was unexpected—sharp and genuine. "Don't let Rhysand hear you say that."
"At least I'm done chasing my red flag," you said.
The bond throbbed once more, a deep ache that would never truly fade. But for the first time, it didn't feel like it would tear you apart.
He nodded, the golden eye whirring softly. "And I'm learning to carry mine."
You looked at him, really looked at this brother you barely knew, and said, "We've got each other. That's enough."
Lucien leaned back. "The Vanserra siblings. Mated. Rejected. Slightly flammable."
"Speak for yourself," you grinned, A small flame danced across your fingertip as you stroked them, controlled this time, gentle. "We're adorably flammable."
His laughter—sharp and real—echoed softly through the room, making both bunnies' ears perk up in delight.
And for the first time in days, the ache in your chest felt like something you might one day be able to carry without breaking—a permanent bond, yes, but no longer a chain.
The golden light pulsed once more beneath your skin, and somewhere, miles away, in the darkness of the Night Court, you knew a shadowsinger felt it too.
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Azriel woke shaking, breath crystallizing in the frigid air.
The bond.
Muffled for two days now—erupted with savage, unfamiliar pain. He'd marked each hour of silence with thin, precise cuts across his chest, but nothing prepared him for this blazing agony, as if the golden thread inside his ribs had been yanked tight and set aflame. Shadows writhed across the floor, mirroring his frantic heartbeat as sweat soaked the sheets.
He dressed by touch alone, leather sliding over half-healed wounds. Blood blossomed beneath the buckles, warm against his ice-cold skin. The hallway distorted, edges warping, but discipline drove him forward.
Movement might drown the torment. He staggered toward the training ring, trailing frost in his wake.
Cassian was drilling recruits when Azriel stepped onto the sand. Ice crackled under his boots; every Illyrian within twenty paces fell silent. His hands trembled violently, nearly dropping the practice sword until he clenched harder, reopening the newest cut.
Crimson seeped down his abdomen, its metallic scent sharp in the morning air.
A young warrior advanced.
Azriel struck—too fast, too brutal—wood splintering against bone.
The boy crumpled with a cry that Azriel barely registered through white sparks bursting behind his eyes, each one pulsing with the bond's torment.
Another opponent stepped forward, then another. Azriel met each with vicious, mechanical precision until Cassian intercepted, arms braced across his chest.
"Look at me," Cassian ordered, voice cutting through the roaring in Azriel's ears.
Azriel's vision swam. "It's worse," he rasped, throat raw. "Didn't know it could get worse."
Cassian's gaze dropped to the blood darkening Azriel's tunic. "You need a healer."
"I need-" Azriel couldn't finish.
Shadows spilled from his shoulders, lashing the air like whips, carrying the scent of nightfall and steel.
Cassian's siphons flared crimson, siphoning the wild magic before it scorched the watching recruits. "Training's over. War room, now."
Azriel remembered nothing of climbing the stairs to the River House, only the taste of copper and frost on his tongue. Maps blanketed the long table where Rhysand, Feyre, Mor, Amren, and Nesta looked up as he stumbled in, darkness trailing his every step.
Rhys's violet eyes narrowed at the blood. "Az-"
"The bond," Azriel grated, each word a tremor. "The agony's funneling straight through. I can't-" He pressed a shaking fist to his sternum where phantom fire burned. "I can't shut it out."
Feyre reached with her mind, gentle as dawn. The attempt brushed against raw nerves; Azriel recoiled with a guttural snarl. Glass shattered in the windowpanes.
The chandelier swayed, crystal tinkling. Shadows erupted, drenching the room in smothering darkness that tasted of ashes and grief.
Mor stepped forward, palms raised. "Az, breathe-"
"Every heartbeat feels like a blade," he said, voice breaking.
His eyes—normally calm as a midnight lakeïżœïżœshone wild, desperate. "If it gets any worse, I'll-" He bit down on the rest, but the madness was there, circling, hungry, a beast straining at its chains.
Nesta's steel-gray gaze tracked the shadows crawling over the ceiling. "Then we fix it before you lose yourself."
Cassian planted a steady hand between Azriel's shoulder blades, grounding him. "Name the order, Rhys."
Rhysand's power rolled out—cool midnight and stars—pushing the shadows back until lantern-light flickered once more. "Stealth flight to Autumn in four hours," the High Lord said. "We extract and return before dawn."
Azriel's knees nearly buckled with equal parts relief and renewed terror. "Four hours is too long."
"It's how long it takes to prepare winnow points that Beron can't trace," Rhys countered, voice edged with authority. "You will hold."
Azriel's jaw clenched so hard something cracked.
Fresh blood slid beneath his leathers, a warm contrast to the cold sweat beading his skin. "I'll try."
Amren clicked her tongue, ancient eyes gleaming. "Try harder. Velaris has survived worse than your shadows."
Azriel dragged in a ragged breath that smelled of pine and steel and coming snow.
The pain surged again—hot, merciless—and his vision went white at the edges. But he felt Cassian's steadying hand, heard Rhys's measured voice, sensed Feyre's mind-touch waiting for permission.
He swallowed hard. "Keep me busy."
Cassian's grin was fierce, all teeth. "I can do that."
The shadows settled—trembling, resentful, but leashed. Focus returned to Azriel's fever-bright eyes, razor-sharp and deadly.
Four hours.
He could endure four more hours of this hell.
And when the time came, he would fly south on wings of night and frost, and anyone standing between him and that muted golden thread would learn why even High Lords feared a shadowsinger's wrath.
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Author’s Note:
If you made it through this chapter—first of all, I love you. This one was heavy, but necessary. Our girl is still standing (with fire bunnies), and Azriel is one breakdown away from realizing he’s in love. As always, thank you for reading. 💛
Taglist: @circe143 @lunarxcity @willowpains @messageforthesmallestman @lreadsstuff @evye47 @lovely-susie @moonfawnx @tele86 @moonlitlavenders @darkbloodsly @ees-chaotic-brain @smol-grandpa @auraofathena @lottiiee413 @minaaminaa8 @claudiab22 @moonbeamruins @shewolf1549 @crimsonandwhiteprincess @a-band-aid-for-your-heart @kathren1sky-blog @alimarie1105 @masbt1218 @topaz125 @falszywe @randomdumsblog @sophia-grace2025 @okaytrashpanda @thegoddessofnothingness @unarxcity @moonfawnx @svearehnn @suhke3 @galaxystern08 @willowpains @ivy-34 @hellsenthero @nayaniasworld @raccoonworld @bobbywobbby @evergreenlark @greenmandm @bobbywobbby @shinyghosteclipse @catloverandreader @the-onlyy-angie @bunnboosblog @i-like-boooks @ashduv @kayjaywrites @lovelyreaderlovesreading @badbishsblog @vera0124 @i-am-infinite @scatteredstardustt
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rafedarling · 2 months ago
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đŹđ©đąđ„đ„ đšđ« đŸđąđ„đ„ đČđšđźđ« 𝐠𝐼𝐭
pairing: drew starkey x actress!reader
summary: drew appears on the late late show with james corden to play the infamous game ‘spill your guts or fill your guts’. little does he know, you had previously been on the show and specifically requested he be invited.
warning(s): english is not my native language. mild language, secondhand embarrassment, extreme cheesiness and boyfriend material overload.
au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @issabellec7
based on this request
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“Alright, Drew,” James started, rubbing his hands together.
“First of all, welcome! We are so happy to have you here.”
“Thank you, man, I appreciate it,” Drew said, shifting in his seat.
“Though I gotta say, I have a really bad feeling about this.”
James let out a dramatic laugh.
“As you should! Because, as you saw, your lovely girlfriend Y/N was here not too long ago. And guess what? She personally requested you to be here tonight!”
Drew groaned playfully, running a hand through his hair.
“Oh, I knew it!”
“And,” James continued, “she also made sure we included dark chocolate, which I assume is some kind of inside joke?”
Drew exhaled through his nose, shaking his head.
“Yeah, uh, I hates dark chocolate. Like, passionately. So this is definitely her way of messing with me.”
“Well, my friend, she succeeded!” James laughed.
“Now, let’s get started! First up
”
He gestured toward the table, dramatically lifting the first lid.
James scrunched his nose.
“Oh, this smells absolutely disgusting. So, Drew, here’s your first question: What is the most annoying habit Y/N has that drives you crazy?”
The crowd gasped playfully. Drew tilted his head back, laughing.
“Oh man, I can already hear her reaction to this.”
“Would you like a bite of pickled pig’s feet instead?”
James wiggled his eyebrows.
Drew shook his head.
“No, no, I’ll answer. Uh
 okay, Y/N is literally the most perfect human, but if I had to say something
”
He exhaled dramatically.
“She never puts the cap back on the toothpaste. And she squeezes it from the middle instead of the bottom, and it kills me.”
The audience burst into laughter.
“That is valid,” James agreed.
“She’s an amazing actress, but a toothpaste menace.”
James pulled out a glass filled with a murky, grayish-green liquid.
“This is a sardine smoothie. And your question is: What’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for Y/N that she doesn’t even know about?”
Drew winced at the drink.
“That looks awful.”
“It is awful,” James confirmed. “So spill it.”
Drew thought for a moment, then smiled.
“Okay. There was this one time when Y/N had a bad day she didn’t say anything, but I could tell. She had this childhood book she lost years ago, so I spent weeks tracking down a first-edition copy. I left it on her nightstand with a note, but I never told her it was me.”
The audience awed loudly.
James clutched his chest.
“That is the most romantic thing I have ever heard in my life!”
Drew shrugged, grinning. “I just love making her happy.”
James lifted the lid, revealing a large, slimy cow tongue. Drew grimaced.
“Nope. Absolutely not.”
“Then answer this,” James smirked.
“Out of all of Y/N’s past on-screen romantic co-stars, who do you think had the best chemistry with her?”
Drew’s jaw dropped as the audience gasped. “Oh, come on!”
“Answer, or it’s cow tongue time!”
Drew groaned.
“Fine. If I’m being honest
 I hated watching her with Jake Gyllenhaal. They just had way too much chemistry, and it made me so jealous.”
James burst into laughter.
“You paused the movie, didn’t you?”
Drew sighed. “Paused it. Left the room. Came back an hour later and still wasn’t over it.”
James lifted the plate.
“Drew, Y/N personally requested the chocolate, but we added wasabi. Your question: What’s the cheesiest thing you say to Y/N in private that you would never say in public?”
Drew groaned.
“Oh no. Nope. I refuse to expose myself like this.”
“You sure?” James taunted.
Drew sighed. “Fine. I call her ‘my little sunshine bean.’”
James lost it. “SUNSHINE BEAN?!”
Drew buried his face in his hands. “I knew this was a mistake!”
James wiped his tears.
“Alright, last one. You have to call Y/N and let her ask you a question. Answer, or take a bite of fermented tofu.”
Drew sighed dramatically before dialing your number.
“Drew?” your voice filled the studio. “Are you on Spill Your Guts?”
The crowd cheered.
“Yeah, baby, I am. And James is making me call you.”
You giggled. “Okay
 If you had to get a giant tattoo of my face anywhere, where would you put it?”
Drew groaned as James cackled.
“Fine! I’d put it on my ribs. Right over my heart, happy now?”
You gasped dramatically. “That was actually a really good answer.”
James smirked. “What’s a role you regret turning down or missing out on?”
Drew sighed. “I was this close to being in a Western movie, and I regret not pushing harder for it.”
James lifted the bowl. “If you could travel anywhere right now, where would it be?”
Drew smiled. “Greece. I wanna take Y/N and just disappear on an island for a month.”
James leaned in. “What’s your dream project?”
Drew grinned. “Something I can do with Y/N. Whether it’s a rom-com or an action movie, I just wanna work with her.”
James clapped his hands.
“Drew, you survived!”
Drew blew a kiss to the camera.
“I did it for you, baby!”
1K notes · View notes
twoshootsofvodka · 2 months ago
Text
Where Roses Bloom, Love Shall Blossom
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Nana x Male Reader
length: 18k words
tags: fluff, smut, creampie, little bit of ass-play, L-bomb
A/N: This is my first ever smut or even fanfic, and I know there is a lot of room to improve, but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I may have used a few too many references/memes, so sorry in advance if it throws you off. It’s just kind of my style. I also self-inserted on occasion (like the whole premise of the story that came to me after watching this video), but I hope it’s not too disruptive. If you have any suggestions, critiques, or requests, my DMs and Asks are open. Other than that, happy birthday to Best Girl Nana, and thanks for reading or even sharing!
_______________________________________________________
[It's mid-April]
- We are all done, Sir! - Your makeup artist announces, after putting on the finishing touches.
- Thank you!
From the mirror in front, a more handsome version of you is staring back. He is the new favourite variety show host of the nation, who can make any of his guests laugh to tears, improvise in an instant when his partner slips up, and even outside set, is usually the heart of the party thanks to his easygoing and sensitive nature. He is the perfect media personality. So much so, that even you like to watch him from time to time.
But actually being him? It does get a bit overwhelming. The busy schedules, having to always be on your toes so you don't miss an opportunity to crack a joke, which is even harder, since you are still not completely fluent in Korean, and the constant smiling, even to guests you would rather not have. It's just a bit much. But obviously, you wouldn't change any of it. It’s a dream come true, really, getting to meet all these fantastic people in the industry.
- Is everything all right Sir?
The woman asks worriedly when she sees you lost in thought, fearing she messed something up.
- Of course! I'm just always surprised how you girls always manage to turn me actually handsome. I swear this isn't even a mirror, just a recording of me with filters on. You reply with a warm smile, waving her worries away.
- Hehe! Of course it's not Sir. And I didn't even add much makeup at all. Just a touch up really.
- In any way, you did a fantastic job. Thank you!
- Thank you Sir, and you're welcome.
You stand up, and read some news while you wait for further instructions. You haven't checked any of the previous episodes of this show, because you wanted to make your appearance authentic. You also wanted to figure out your partner during the chat, without narrowing the possibilities down.
The only prep you had to do was choosing a nickname (truly a gamer's worst nightmare), and getting a picture of yourself as a kid. It took mere hours to find a name that could lead your partner into guessing who you are without immediately giving it away, or even the fact that they are talking to a foreigner: The Little Prince.
After a bit, the director finally calls for you. As discussed, you put in the noise-cancelling earphones, queue up some of your latest favourite songs, and take a seat on the left side of the set. The playlist consists mostly of K-pop songs, since it's highly likely that your partner is an idol, and the songs might help you figure out their identity, if their song comes up at a good time.
They tell you to scan the QR code on the table in front of you, which opens the chat room. Your partner enters right after, and you read their name: Judy.
*First clue. They are most likely a girl. In which case, I should take the initiative.*
Having worked with over a hundred idols, you start to wonder whether you've met them already
Hello there!
ㅎㅎ Hello
*Second clue: probably doesn’t know prequel memes.*
Should we drop the honorifics?
Oh, so suddenly? Sure
*Third clue: presumably Korean.*
How are you?
I'm great! You?
Me too
*Maybe I should have prepared some questions at least. Not particularly in the mood to improvise.*
Thankfully you don't have to think much, as you see three little dots pop up, indicating that the person on the other end is typing.
I was wondering What's your favourite season?
You don't even need to think about this. Spring for sure Not even close
OMO Mine too The weather has been so nice lately
YES!!! And the colours And the smells And the bees And the birds I love it so much
ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ I see I feel the same way I already think we will be good friends
I hope we will bee Sorry I had to sneak in at least one pun
Don't apologise for being funny!
Heh, thanks How about sunsets?
I love sunsets! Half my gallery is filled with pictures of sunsets
Saaame One day, I saw the sunset forty−four times! You know−− one loves the sunset, when one is so sad...
Oh But How?
Oh, that's just a quote From The Little Prince
Aaaah Your name! Have you read it many times?
Once every year for the past few years I like to see how much more I understand every time I read it With that I know how much I've changed since last year
Hmm Very sentimental Maybe But back to spring and sunsets I have a great place I visit in late spring It's a bit far out from the city, but the flowers and sunsets are more than worth it I can show you one time, if you're down
Sounds great! I also have a place I visit when I'm free I can take you there in return
Nice
*Should I also reveal my birthday? Eh, why the hell not.*
Maybe you can take me there for my birthday It's coming next month
I can But only if you take me to your place on my birthday
Sure When is that?
This month
I see Another spring child No wonder we're on the same wavelength
That's what I was about to say!
The conversation dies off for a bit, but before you have come up with a new topic, the tablet in front of you comes to the rescue.
"Send each other your screenshot of your homepage"
You first check your screen to make sure there isn't anything on it that's scandalous, or would give you away. After not finding anything needing to be removed, you send 'Judy' the picture. Hers arrives shortly after that. At first glance, it's nothing special. Solid black background, neatly ordered folders with english names that all end with a blue heart emoji.
*Maybe she likes blue?*
You have similar folders, all in English too, but there are some extras. Notably meditation and gaming. The background is different though, as it's a picture of your beloved furry companion.
I see you have Netflix downloaded What have you been watching lately?
Ah, yes Mostly American teen movies so I can improve my English Nice
*Yeah, def Korean.*
But I also watch a lot of animations and YouTube
Like what?
Mukbang, and Jangbbijju Also this (넀가 ëč ì§„ ì„žêł„ - fall for you)
She sends you the thumbnail of an unfamiliar show
Never seen this Maybe I will watch it later You should! The fantasy genre is interesting And the heroine is really pretty
*Judy is a girl, all right*
Yeah, Nana is really pretty
Right? You know her?
I do But I know every idol I've never met her though Have you?
No, but I'd love to She seems fun
Right, she does
There is short of silence before Judy sends a message
Is that your dog in the background? It's really cute
Yes he is! He's my best friend He's turning 10 this year
Oh, he's getting quite old
Yeah, but he's just as youthful as a puppy
Awww Good to hear And I see you meditate?
Yes My days can get pretty hectic It helps me stay relaxed and focused
Maybe I should try it
You should It’s pretty easy I can teach you the basics if you want
Thanks ^^ Are you an idol? Is that why you do it?
Noooo I can't dance at all And I sound like an untuned violin played by a 4 year old
ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ There are some prodigies who can play well at that age
Sure, but not this one
And the gaming folder? You got games on your phone? 👀
ㅋㅋㅋㅋ I have a few to pass the time I mostly game on PC But certainly not as much as I used to
And what do you play?
Some League and Overwatch with friends I also picked up the new Zelda game recently
I love Nintendo games!
Yeah, they rarely miss The company's shit though Super greedy
*That's gonna get cut from the video*
O.O Are they?
Uhh yeah But let's not get into that What music have you been listening to?
She sends you a picture of her Spotify queue
Interesting Much less Korean than I thought And I only know a few of them
Send me yours
One sex *sec!!! I meant sec!
*Good grief...*
Hmmm I don't know any of these
Yeah I thought you wouldn't Not the genre a 'Judy' would listen to
*hmph* I'll let you know, my music taste is very diverse I bet not even the viewers know these songs
I'll take that bet What do I win?
A kiss
HUH?
ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ Just kidding I'm not sure yet
Okay... How about you buy me some tteokbokki if I win?
Deal And if I win, you'll get me dakbal!
Deal Let's shake on it
Okay But don't look!
Fine, I wont
You get up from your armchair, head to the edge of the wall, and put your hand past the corner. After waiting for a few seconds, you don't feel anything, and moving your hand around a bit doesn’t yield any success either. Then it hits, that your partner is probably Korean and female, so she is likely much shorter than you. Carefully lowering your hand, it finally finds hers. The hand jolts a little at the first contact, but grabs your hand quickly after.
It feels delicate: Small and smooth with fingers you can only describe as elegant. It's not just their shape and how they feel in your comparably larger hands, but also the amount of rings decorating them. On top of that, you bet her manicure matches the lavishness. The handshake barely lasts a second or two, then you get back to your seats.
Okay I know exactly who you are
How?
You're a princess!
Won't lie I feel quite fancy right now
Knew it! Extremely generous of you to let me touch your hand Your Highness
ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
Do our 'dates' still stand, Princess? Can you set aside time from your schedule to meet a lowly peasant like myself?
Aahhh, well Princesses need to relax too And your proposition seems suitable So yes, we shall go on these 'dates'
You honour me Princess
Okay, okay that's enough But do you really know who I am?
I have some guesses You're def a female idol And I'm pretty sure we haven't met yet Which I can't say about too many people Do you have any guesses about me?
If you didn't lie about not being an idol Then I have a few But I don't know which one of them have met a lot of idols So I'm not sure at all
Well, I never lie Just keep thinking You might not eve know me But that's fine
Whit that last message sent, the screen on the table lights up once again
“Send your childhood picture to your partner”
*Oh, right. The picture. If she knows me, this will help her a lot.*
This should help you a bit
Aaaah, cute Wait Are you a foreigner? Here's mine
Maybe... Awww That's really cute too
The screen instructs you again: “Draw each other in one minute”
*One minute? Not like it matters. I can't draw for shit.*
The 60 seconds go by like a minute in Africa, and your masterpiece is done. Kind of.
Sorry, I tried my best.
It's good! Much better than mine, that's for sure
You look at the picture for a bit, and download it before the connection is severed and you're kicked from the chat room. That signals the end of this section, so now all that’s left is to stand up, and meet this ‘Judy’.
*Okay, who is it?*
You stop the music, take out your earphones, and wait for the director's signal. When it arrives, you slowly, but confidently walk towards your partner's part of the studio. Once past the corner, you dramatically turn a 90 degree angle, and find yourself face to face with an angel. Or maybe it's a fairy? Or a nymph? Whatever she may be, it is not exactly human.
Her flawless fair skin is glistening in the studio's brilliant light, creating a picturesque contrast with her silky dark hair. It's neatly styled in a typical way: behind her ears, running down on her back one side, and on the other, resting on her front, bumping over her modest breasts. Your gaze moves further down, checking out her fuzzy two part dress, coloured in white and blue.
*Yep, blue is her favourite colour.*
The top stops just high enough over her pencil skirt, so that you can make out the tiniest bit of her midriff. You follow along her smooth legs, all the way to her feet, then quickly look back up. Her eyes meet yours, but not before catching a slightly mischievous smile form on her glossy lips.
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*I guess she figured out who I was*
This all goes down in a mere second. It does have some benefits to have your brain running at FTL speed. After finishing the survey, you take a theatrical bow.
- Princess Nana.
She cracks up. Her laugh is just as magical as her whole being. You have heard it a handful times before, but never in person.
And boy, does it hit like a baseball bat live. You have had countless groups come to your variety show, but you can only gather up a single other idol with such a delightful laugh (Miss Song Yuqi).
*Man, I could listen to both of them for the rest of my life.*
You straighten back up, and take a step closer, at the same time as Nana. Your assumption of her height during the handshake was correct: she barely reaches up to your chin, but it plays to her advantage; makes her look even more adorable.
Her smile never faded, and now that she is right in front of you, you can see a glint of happiness and recognition in the vast, dark ocean of her eyes.
- It's you!
- It sure is.
- I knew it the moment I saw your baby picture.
- Ah yes, that was a dead giveaway.
- But I thought of you beforehand too.
- Oh, really?
- Yeah! I watched every episode of your show, and you did seem like we had a lot in common. Our conversation proves that.
- Yes, and thank you. - Feeling her boundless energy, and seeing her cute, perky personality, you can't help but smile along with her. - I can't believe this is the first time we meet in person.
- Right? I guess our schedules never aligned. But I'm really happy to meet you!
- As am I. - you cross your hands suddenly - But you lied to me!
- Huh? When?
- You said you've never met Nana.
She scratches the back of her head with an embarrassed chuckle. - Oh, right. Well I could argue that it's not a lie in a literal sense.
- Hmmm. I'll let it slide this time. But I have to warn you, I don't invite liars onto my show.
She gasps in a fake shock, and bows as she apologises. - I promise not to lie anymore! Please invite us to your show!
You laugh at her playfulness. - How could I say no to a princess? I'll make sure to have an episode set aside for you during your next comeback.
- Yay, thank you!
Her cuteness is almost overwhelming. The way she looks at you with those doe eyes, like you are her favourite person on this planet (which in reverse, might be true at this point). Her radiant smile, that emits such precious laughter, the sound of is more wondrous than Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Or the way she seems to cling onto your every word, as if you were Jesus preaching on the Mount of Beatitudes, and how she parrots your thoughts, just coated in that honeyed voice.
The director cuts into the meeting, and asks Nana to give them an interview about your chat. Yours will follow after. When you're both done, they tell you to take a selfie for the show. You oblige, but ask Nana to take it. The height difference doesn't even seem to be a problem. Rather she turns it into an advantage, and snaps a few nice pics. As the shooting comes to an end, you thank each other and the crew for everything, and before Nana could disappear into her room, you call out for her.
- Sorry, I don't intend to hold you up for long, I'm sure you have better things to do.
- Oh no, it's fine. What do you want?
- I just thought we could exchange numbers. Not for my show, that'll be done through our managers, but for our bet. Not sure how serious you were about it, but either way, I wouldn't mind taking you out for dinner. And I still need to take you to that spot on your birthday.
- Absolutely! And I'm completely serious about the bet. I don't just shake hands for nothing. My schedule is going to be hectic in March, but I'm sure I will be able to create some free time.
- Oh, if it's bothersome, we can go later too. Or earlier. Whatever works for you. I can get busy myself, but I always ask the groups to clear their schedules for the day before and after, so we all have some room if anything comes up.
- That's smart. Maybe I'll live with the opportunity.
- You totally should. 
She hands you her phone, and you dial yours. She saves your contact as 'The Little Prince', while you save her as 'Princess Nana'.
- I guess that's all. Again, it was really nice to finally meet you. Hope to see you soon.
- You too! Can't wait for my free chicken feet!
You chuckle, and bow to say goodbye, which she politely returns. Before she could get out of sight, you decide to look behind your back to catch one final peek of this angel. She walks with such grace, but you can still see that playful attitude hidden beneath. Maybe it's the way she sways her hips. Or that cute little butt.
*I wonder if it's more like a soft pillow, or firm and fit from all the workout.*
You slap yourself softly, and turn your head back around.
*Idiot
*
Unbeknownst to you, just after you do this, Nana also looks above her shoulders, searching for you. She barely catches the last moment of your little act, but she knows. She knows, but she is doing the same, so she can't really judge you for it.
Your heart still pounds noticeably faster than usual after you've changed back into your comfy clothes. The little cramp in your stomach is not letting its presence be forgotten either.
*Fuckin’ hell. What am I, fourteen? *
You take a deep breath, drink a cup of water, and focus. Within a few minutes, your body finally listens to the brain, and settles down. You sigh in relief.
- That's better. 
 - But I need a drink.
You take your stuff, and head outside. On the street, you catch Nana one last time. You wave and smile at each other as her manager helps her get in their car. Yours is already waiting for you on the passenger side, tapping away on his phone, since you almost always drive yourself. You shove your things in the trunk, then hop into the driver seat.
- Took you long enough. - your manager blurts out without looking up.
- Yeah, sorry. Upset stomach.
He acknowledges your excuse with a grunt.
- Back to your place?
- Yeah. But I wanna stop at a convenience store for some alcohol.
- Huh? Was it that bad? You seemed to be having fun. - He finally looks up at you, with the smallest hint of concern on his face.
- Yeah, I may have enjoyed it a little too much.
- Hmm. I see. So that upset stomach?
He doesn't even need to say it, you both know what he means.
- Yerp. Fucking butterflies.
Again, he just scoffs. Your manager is the best you could ask for. Professionally. But as much as he helps you in your work, he helps as little with personal stuff. You know it's better that way. You're not paying him to be your therapist, but you would like him to lend you an ear from time to time.
- Whatever. I'll get drunk tonight, and lose some ranks in League with the boys.
- Hmm. Just don't get too drunk.
You fasten your seatbelt, start up the car, and zoom through the city to your first destination. You grab a few (more than a few) bottles of different flavoured soju, and some instant ramen. The cashier is a young dude, probably a uni student working part-time. He realises who you are, so you chat for a bit. When he finally scans your items, you pay by cash, and leave him a hefty bonus, which he thanks profusely. You get back in the car, and drive to your manager's place to drop him off. From there, it’s only a few-minute drive to home.
_______________________________________________________
You struggle with the lock long enough that you hear your dog making a fuss inside.
- One second bud. I’m an alcoholic.
As soon as you open the door, he starts jumping up and down in excitement.
- Hello, you little rascal! - you greet him in a high pitched voice. - Have you been a good boy? - A rhetorical question to which the answer is (almost) always yes. You scratch behind his ears, and give him a treat, which he gobbles up in the blink of an eye.
- You will never guess who I've met today. - You start as you take off your shoes, and walk towards the kitchen to put the purchased beverages into the fridge. - It was my future wife! - you announce, posing with the exaggerated swagger of a black teen.
Bingley tilts his head in confusion.
- Yeah, I know. I’m cringe. But! I haven't felt like this since high school. And that was a whiiiile ago.
You step into the living room and settle on the sofa. Bingley waits for the signal of invitation before he joins you, and licks your hand to ask for pats which you happily provide.
- Honestly, I don't know how I should go about it. We hit it off well, and she seemed interested too. I mean she agreed to meet two more times. Plus once for my show, but that's different
 For the first one, I will take her to our favourite place.
As you mention that, your companion perks up.
- Oh, sorry. I think you're going to have to stay behind. I want it to be just her and me.
Bingley’s head falls on your lap in defeat with a sad whine.
- Don't worry, I will take you there next week.
You take out your phone, and send tonight's plan to your friends. To pass the time, you decide to put on that new (well it was new like 3 months ago) Netflix show you haven't started yet for whatever reason. That, along with some takeout, is engaging enough to keep your mind off of today's events, all the way 'til the alarm rings in reminder for the games.
You gulp down a whole bottle of soju during your first game, and the next ones follow quickly after. The alcohol kicks in right as you're queueing up for the third game of the night. Senses dulled, reflexes slowed, vision blurry. Palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy. Your teammates have been keeping up the pace with various types of spirits, turning every game from here on out into a clown fiesta. Muscle memory at least keeps them somewhat competitive, but no one really cares about winning. It's all about forgetting about the everyday struggles. The shitty bosses, the annoying exes, an unlucky puncture on the way to work, your baby puking on your favourite shirt, burnt food, the seemingly never ending house chores– falling head over heels for a girl you've only talked to for half an hour, of which only a few minutes were in person. Whatever. Everyone has their reasons. Meditating can only do so much. And it's nowhere near as fun as this.
The hours fly by, and it's regrettably time already to end the therapy session. Not all your pals have such flexible schedules as you, so they have to call it before midnight. Barely being able to walk straight, you conclude brushing your teeth and pouring a glass of water for tomorrow morning is more than enough exercise before bed.
Waking up is obviously the biggest disadvantage of these endeavours, but you take a pill with the prepared water, then a cup of coffee, and the headache is soon gone. You don't have the stomach for a proper breakfast, but you still force down a slice of toast. You let Bingley out, and sit on the porch, soaking in the morning sun, listening to the sound of nature, and enjoying the smell of the blooming tulips and violets in your garden. - Spring is fucking awesome

_______________________________________________________
The next few weeks go by without much happening. The blind chat episode drops on YouTube, and surprisingly, dozens upon dozens of people comment, shipping the two of you. It’s endearing, really; a nice reassurance that what you felt during and after the show, was not exclusively in your head, as others seem to have noticed the connection and matching vibes (hopefully not just the parasocial delulu fans, who name themselves after funny videos, and would go on to write fanfictions about it).
You exchange a few texts with Nana during these days, but she seems busier than expected. It could be because of an upcoming comeback, but they came back with Rollercoaster only a few months ago. So you try not to give it too much meaning, but in the back of your head, a devilish voice insists “she doesn’t like you bro”. Your worries are lifted when they announce ‘Queendom Puzzle’, and all its participants in the following days. Hey! I see you’ll be on Queendom Puzzle, congrats! I’m sure you will crush it! Hiya! Thanks I hope so I have been practicing a lot for this
Yeah, I figured The competition seems strong But I would bet on you making it into the group I’m a bit worried But your confidence in me means a lot😊 An ace like you should have nothing to fear! You’re right 😾 If the crowd sees the effort I have been putting into my craft They will have to vote for me 
right?
Of course! You were meant to be on top
*of me, hehe*
Yeah! I’m gonna be a star! That’s the spirit A few seconds go by with Nana seemingly typing out an essay. I wanted to ask you for something
Your pulse quickens, and you sit up straight on your couch. With dilated eyes, and gently shaking fingers, you type back. I’m all ears
I hope it’s not too much of a bother But could you take me to that place you talked about?
Of course! That was always the plan, no?
Yeah but I mean like This weekend
You have to check your schedule to make sure you’re free, not that cancelling every plan and recording would be a tall order, or a big price to pay to spend time with her. Sure, I can make it Great! I just know I won’t have much time until Queendom ends And if I do end up on the team It will take even longer before I can take a break
There is no ‘if’! But I get your point Both days work for me, so you choose I checked the weather, and Saturday will be warmer So we could watch the sunset too if you wanna
*How the fuck would I not?* Sounds perfect
Nice How about we meet up at 4? You could show me around the place And we could have a picnic
Even more perfect I’ll be there Great And thank you 😊
My pleasure
The chat dies off, but it doesn’t bother you. The high of finally meeting Nana lingers for the rest of the night, giving you one of the best sleeps since you moved to Korea.
_______________________________________________________
As the planned outing approaches, you remember something from your first encounter: her birthday is in spring. Even after remembering it was in March, you still decide to get her something. Surfing the internet for half an hour, you find a few decent ideas, but none of them strike you as THE perfect gift.
*Maybe I should read about her, see what she likes.*
As you press search, the first few results are about another celebrity, who shares her stage name: Im Jinah.
You quickly add ‘wooah’ to the query to get the desired outcome. Reading through her wiki, an uneasy feeling slowly creeps up on you.
- Well, this is just weird. I feel like I'm stalking her.
Even though you have done this for every idol who has appeared on your show, it's just not the same. You're not gathering information to create the best possible games and scenarios for entertainment, but to wow her. With that thought, you close the tab, and start to think.
- Okay, let's just not. I can work with what I know already. She likes Nintendo games, the colour blue, animation, and spring. And dakbal! She most likely has a Switch already, and there is no way of knowing what games she has or wants without snooping around. I could take a gamble with the animation, and get her a plushie, a shirt, or something of Doraemon. He's blue too, so that's nice. But that is lacking in the ‘personal’ department. So spring, huh? What can I do with that?
You spend the whole day deciding on what to buy, and instead of one big present, you end up with a few smaller ones. You pick all of them up in the coming days, and get the groceries for the picnic on the day before.
The 'date' is set two days after the recording with Cravity, who made their comeback with Groovy last week. You feared that the upcoming meeting with Nana might get in your head, and ruin the show's quality, but it all worked out perfectly. You spend most of the following day going on a big hike with Bingley, and continuing the Netflix show you started. After that it’s time for bed, as tomorrow's going to be busy. The trek tired you out, yet sleep doesn’t come easily. You lay awake until it actually gets annoying, and opt for a sleeping pill. The drug does its magic, and you wander off to dreamland in no time.
_______________________________________________________
The alarm rings at 7 AM sharp, and you blindly search for the phone to shut it up.
- Mmmm
 Just five more minutes

But as soon as you pull the blanket over your head to block the rising sun, the reason for the alarm registers. Your eyes pop open, and the drowsiness is gone in an instant. After hurriedly finishing the usual morning routine, including your obligations to Bingley, it’s time to go through the checklist for today's tasks.
First on the agenda is preparing the food, 'cause if you mess it up, you will have time to try again. Thankfully, apart from a wasted egg, some spilled milk, and a fierce battle with the sizzling oil, everything goes fine. Second is wrapping the gifts. Usually a bag would do, but not today. Not for Nana. Or rather, Princess Nana. You waste a lot of time and wrapping paper figuring out what's the best way to go about it, but the end result is more than acceptable. Third is packing up - food in the basket, gifts hidden in a bag, and a blanket to sit on. Next up is lunch. You don't have neither the time nor the willingness to cook more right now, so some takeout will have to do. Then it’s time to take out the dog. For a walk, Jimmy... That's number five, check. The last thing to be done is texting Nana the rendezvous point, which you do while you eat the ordered pizza.
Although you'll only have to leave in an hour, you decide to dress up now in today's carefully picked outfit: a floral linen shirt, dark blue shorts, and a few accessories. Nothing too fancy. A few (hundred) TikToks help pass the remaining time, before you pack everything in the trunk of the KIA. After making sure for the third time that everything is in order, you lock the house and get in the car. The V6 engine of the K8 eagerly purrs to life, as if it felt and shared your anticipation for today’s events. You type the destination into the GPS - not that it was needed; you have been there countably infinite times already, and could drive there with a blindfold on. But as they say: better safe than sorry.
Some music and sunshine keeps you company during the fortunately eventless half hour drive. Once you arrive and park in the shade of a huge oak tree, a notification pops up from Nana: “I'll be there in a few!” Not even 5 minutes later, another KIA pulls into the parking lot. The passenger-side door swings open, and the angel you have been waiting for steps out with the same gorgeous smile on her face she last said goodbye with.
You take a few steps closer, and bow. - Hello! I hope it wasn't too hard to find the place.
- Oh, not at all. - She bows, and says hello too, then looks around to admire the greenery, and the sunshine seeping through the leaves, illuminating everything in sight. It arguably does a worse job than her smile, but the Sun does give you that vitamin D, whereas Nana only gives your D vitamin. And your soul with the cute outfit she is sporting: it’s a red, floral patterned sleeveless top tucked into a tight blue skirt with a very similar motif. As the colour scheme would suggest, it’s downright magnetic. You find yourself unable to look away from her, until a light breeze, paired with the rattling of leaves knocks you out of your daze. When you look up and lock eyes with Nana, you notice her cheeks have copied the colour of her shirt. *I may have stared for too long. *
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- Almost didn’t notice you there with the camouflage. - you jest, trying to play it off.
Nana giggles, and spins around to give you a full view. In any other circumstance, your eyes would have probably shifted downwards, but her hair steals away your attention, dancing in the air graciously like she does on stage.
- Looks cute, doesn’t it? - I think we all know what he thinks about it. - her manager speaks up from behind. She hands Nana a bag, most likely filled with food for the picnic. Before turning away, she gives you a stern look. - Call me when you are done, Nana, and I’ll come back for you as discussed.
She drives off, leaving the two of you alone in a serene, only slightly awkward silence. You grab your stuff from the car, and lead Nana up the path, towards the field. On the short walk there, she keeps looking around in awe, amazed by the scenery. Gotta give it to her, it looks like it was taken from a painting. Birds singing from the blooming trees, butterflies chasing one-another above the lazily swaying, lush grass, and bees hauling their fat fluffy butts from flower to flower.
- It’s perfect! - she squeals with joy as she bends down to touch the silky grass.
- I knew you would like it.
- I love it!
You walk past Nana, who seems completely mesmerized by the clearing, and a pair of Barn Swallows, as they scurry across the sky, most likely hunting for food. She smiles at them, then catches up with you and helps with the picnic blanket, for which you have already found the perfect spot. It’s on a slightly more elevated piece of ground, from where you can see above the city, and across the green sea. While you unpack, Nana goes on about how glad she is to be out here in the sun, with you, how pretty the place is, and how excited she is for Queendom Puzzle.
- It’s an interesting changeup, isn’t it? - she asks with sparkling eyes.
- For sure! Definitely interesting for the fans, and even more so for the contestants.
- I know! I can’t wait to meet all of them. I haven’t even talked to some of them before.
- Well, you could call them now, because we might have overdone it with the food.
You share a laugh, then take a look at the feast you two whipped up. Even without plating the desserts, it’s still enough for at least one other pair of lovebirds. Your schnitzel sandwiches look ‘rustic’ at best next to Nana’s three different types of home-made kimbaps, but you wanted to bring something that you would bring at home too. 
- The one with the omelette strips has a pinch of honey in it. I thought it would be your style. - she explains with a never fading smile.
You take a slice, and push the whole thing into your mouth. Sure enough, she hit it right on the nail. The basic, but undefeated blend of omelette, avocado and tuna is freshened up by the pickled radish, and brought together by the subtle, yet lingering sweetness of the honey. You let out a satisfied hum, and swallow before praising her.
- You are right on the money with this one. It’s phenomenal!
She giggles triumphantly, and takes a roll too.
- Mmmmh, it’s so good! I never thought about adding honey to a kimbap before. But when I was getting the ingredients, I thought about you, and the bees, and I knew I had to do it.
- It’s for sure the best kimbap I have eaten so far. Good job! - you raise your hand for a high-five, which she happily accepts.
- Thanks! Now, let’s see what you cooked up.
- Well, I know it doesn’t look as fancy as yours, but I promise it tastes great. - you hand her a sandwich, and take one for yourself too. - It’s kind of a timeless classic in my country. Whenever we go to a beach, on a road trip, or a hike, it’s the go-to snack. It’s just fried chicken breast, some veggies, and your choice of sauce in a bun, but that’s the point. It’s simple, but effective. You can never go wrong with these ingredients, and it never disappoints.
She takes a bite, after you downplayed and hyped up the sandwich at the same time. She munches on it for a few seconds, nodding understandingly.
- I see what you mean. It’s just really nice. I could see how it would be sort of a comfort food.
- Right? - you light up from her words of appreciation, and take a bite of home. - I don’t think I could ever get tired of this.
An endearing smile paints Nana’s face, which you don’t even notice at first, too caught up in the nostalgic dish.
Being the first proper one-on-one talk between you two, the conversation starts off with the usual topics: work, hobbies, friends, family, pets, etc. Still, with how engaged and honestly curious she is, it doesn’t feel like the typical, going-through-the-motions, getting-the-mandatory-stuff-out-of-the-way kind of chat. And unsurprisingly, her enthusiasm rubs off on you. You find yourself nodding or laughing along with all her stories, aww-ing at pictures from her childhood or of her family dog, and taking mental notes of every little titbit she shares about her life. It’s all so easy, so natural. Sure, you are still cracking some jokes, but it’s not the same as if you were in front of the cameras. There is no preparation, no script, just chemistry. When you reach into your basket for a second bottle of soda, you grab onto something else by accident. It’s one of Nana’s presents. You have completely forgotten about it, too engaged in the chatter. You take the two small boxes out, and hide them behind your back while your partner is pouring herself a drink.
- Nana?
- Hmm? - she doesn’t look up just yet, preoccupied with choosing the next kimbap to devour.
- I know your birthday was like- two months ago.
- Yeah? - now she lifts her gaze, and notices the jewellery box in your hand, coated in deep blue velvet. - Oh, Y/N! - her voice is laced with surprise and appreciation, which also reflects on her face. - You really didn’t have to.
- Of course I did!
- Now I feel bad, because I didn’t bring you anything. - she pouts, but her frown is immediately turned upside down when she flips the top open. - Wait, is this..?
She holds onto the medallion with one hand, letting the golden chain dangle freely in the warm wind.
- Yeah. A Triforce necklace.
- It’s so pretty! Quick, help me put this on.
Nana turns around and sits closer to you, so you can secure the clasp on the back of her neck. She stays like that, admiring the metallic trinket, until she leans back against you. Your mind freezes for a second, but your body reacts to her, and your arms wrap around her waist.
- Thank you

Her words jump-start your mind, and you squeeze her tighter.
- Don’t thank me just yet. - you untangle one arm, and reach backwards for another smaller container, neatly wrapped in pink paper. She handles it with care after feeling the weight of it.
- Another one?
She rips off the wrapping, and gasps when she recognises the baby pink coloured box.
- You know, I almost bought this when I last went shopping.
She removes the plastic, then takes out the rose-scented perfume to try it out. She sighs in satisfaction when the smell envelopes the air around you, dulling out the flowers nearby.
- Mmmm~ This bottle won’t last long, I can tell you that much!
Your chuckle is cut short by her lips on your cheeks, a smile, and her nuzzling into your embrace again.
- Thank you Y/N~
- You are very much welcome Nana.
She stays in your arms, letting the minutes pass by, until the dryness in your throat becomes annoying, and you have to let go of her for a drink. She gives you a playful pout before standing up to stretch, as you have been sitting on the ground for quite some time now. That’s when a familiar, raspy voice calls out to you from close by.
- Y/N? I thought you would come here today. And with a girl, to boot! You turn around with a curious look, and stand up to greet the elderly woman and her husband.
- Of course I’m here! Would have been a crime to stay inside in this weather.
- Ain’t that the truth. - the man concurs with a subtle nod, then turns to Nana. - And who is this pretty lass you brought along? Won’t you introduce your girlfriend to us? - Oh, we’re not
 - you try to deny in such a hurry, that even catches Nana off guard. You look at her in hopes of reassuring her, and her beaming smile greets you, though you notice there is something sombre about it compared to usual. - We are just
 colleagues, kind of. It’s only the second time we’ve met.
The pair looks at each other with a suspicious, knowing look. You can almost hear a whole conversation play out between their gazes. It’s just one of those things that come with years, or in their case, decades of love and partnership.
- I see. - the woman says without much conviction once she looks back at you. - So it’s not a date? We heard you two laughing from a mile away. Her question throws you for a loop, and while you try to figure out how to word it so you don’t possibly hurt Nana more, she answers before you could come up with the proper phrasing.
- No, it is a date. - she states with unshaken confidence, which pleases the couple. - I’m Nana by the way.
They bow with a sincere smile, and introduce themselves as Mr and Mrs Kim.
- I see you weren’t dropped on your head, missy! - the man titters.
You want to look back at Nana, but she is already by your side, hooking her arm into yours and pressing herself closer. At first, it feels a bit strange to call it that, but it only makes sense when you give it another thought. It’s just a word that you have given too much meaning over the lonely years, and it messes with your head.
- I’m sure he wasn’t either. - she jokes, and bumps your side.
- You will soon learn of that, sweetheart. - the lady pipes up. - He is as sweet as honey, but denser than concrete at times.
They all laugh at that, and you join in after letting go of your now seemingly dumb worries.
- All right, young'uns. We will leave you to it. Gotta get back home before my back gives in.
- Just a second, Mr Kim. - you speak up, and excuse yourself from Nana. You take a few pieces of the layered cake, and stack them in a box. - Please take this. I baked it, but it’s not poisonous. I think.
The couple smiles warmly at you, and takes the box.
- See? Sweet as honey. - The madam echoes her own words with a sly wink aimed at your date.
After that, Nana gifts them some kimbap too, which they thank profusely, then go on their way.
- Oh my god, they were so nice! - Nana asserts as she sits back down.
- They are, yes. I meet them every time I’m here. They visit this place almost every day in the warmer seasons.


- So it’s a date, huh? 
- Of course. What else would you call an afternoon like this? A one-on-one picnic in one of the most magical places in this city, with someone you like and want to get to know better. Wouldn’t be fair to label it as ‘hanging out’, or something simple like that.
- True

This time it’s you, who smiles first, but you are not alone for long. Your hand reaches out for hers as you scoot closer on the soft blanket, and she readily accepts the contact, placing her palm on top of yours. It’s not the ‘electric touch that sends a jolt of shiver down your spine’, it’s just what it is: a touch. Warm and slick, but at the end of the day, nothing out of the ordinary. It’s the circumstances, and the owner of the other hand, that’s really special about it. The half-spoken admission of your feelings, a silent promise of more to come, and the most wonderful girl on this planet you share these with. The silence remains even while you eat the muffins, bar Nana’s compliment for the chocolatey sweetness, and the birds singing in the background. You imagine they are watching this romantic scene unfold in front of them, witnessing love blossom on the field they call home. The little angel stays in your arms, although she feels more like a kitty right now as her warm and petite body lays against you soothingly. You can feel her breathing as her chest rises and falls in a slow rhythm, and you realize your pulse is matching hers when you hold her hand tighter.
It’s probably a super corny display from the outside, when the Sun starts to near its resting place, painting the skies in the colour of the flowers in the surrounding field. And if not for a certain girl in your arms, it would have been the prettiest sight of the day. The other thing that the sunset loses in, is the warmth. The temperature drops surprisingly quickly on this cloudless night, and no matter how hot the woman is beside you (in all senses of the word), the chilling winds become a bit too harsh to ignore. So you pack up, dividing the leftovers equally while Nana speaks with her manager on the phone. Hand-in-hand, you walk back the path towards the parking place with Nana lighting the way with her phone. Her manager said she will arrive in 10 minutes, so you sit in the K8 to stay warm until that. Nana sits in the passenger seat, and sees something in the backseat that catches her eye.
- Aww! What a cute flower.
- Oh, right! - you reach back for the pot. - It’s your last gift.
- Another one? For real? - she takes it from you, and admires the flowerless green plant.
- Of course! It’s a Clitoria Ternatea, aka Butterfly Pea. It will bloom with gorgeous little blue flowers in the summer, and as the name suggests, you can even make tea out of it.
She looks at you with a playful squint and a smirk, the somewhat lewd Latin name of the flower not escaping her attention. You laugh it off, and she leans in for a hug to thank you. It lingers for long seconds, until she gets a text from her manager, stating she is almost there. You both sigh. It’s a mixture of sadness and contentment. It was probably the best afternoon either of you have spent in a long time, and now that it’s come to an end

That’s not even the worst part. It’s the fact that there is no way of knowing when there will be a chance to do this again. But if all goes well for Nana in Queendom Puzzle, it’s most likely months. She places her hand on top of yours, and looks you in the eye.
- Thank you for this day, Y/N. You can’t even fathom how much it all meant to me. And I don’t just mean the gifts, and the picnic. I’m talking about spending time with you, laughing, talking, hugging
 And I really want to do it more. To get to know you better, and see where this goes.
- I would love that. - you clutch onto her hand, and give it a small squeeze -  Because I think–  I think this connection is something very special.
- I think so too.
Her grip on your hand tightens, and she moves her body closer. It’s barely noticeable, but you see it. You see it, because you are doing the same. You see her lips parting, her eyes nervously glancing at yours, and it makes your heart pound out of your chest. And though Nana may seem timid from the outside, she pushes forward with zero hesitation. Unrelenting, unwavering. She wants this badly, and so do you. So even when her manager pulls up, you don’t pull away. The headlights of her car shine right at you when your lips meet. And oh, what delicious, soft lips they are. It makes you forget to breathe, and doubles your heart rate, like a dose of a new designer drug that gets you addicted the moment you use it.
Neither of you break the kiss, and when you shift in your seat so your spine doesn’t twist out of its place and move away from her slightly, she chases after you. She even reaches for your shirt with her free hand, so you don’t pull away again until she has had her fill. It doesn’t take too long, because the uninvited audience does start to make Nana somewhat self conscious now. When your lips separate, you let out the air you have been holding in for these past twenty-something seconds. It’s hard to tell whether it’s this, or the power of the kiss that leaves you lightheaded, but one thing is for sure: you have fallen deeper than you thought, and so has Nana. She chuckles when she notices your reddened ears, breaking the tension.
- That was
 - you start, but find it hard to say the right words. - Surreal but, um
 but nice.
- Yeah. It was.
She gives one last gorgeous smile, and a sorrowed but reassuring goodbye before she leaves you on your own. The kiss replays in your mind repeatedly, and it makes you ache for more: more kisses, but also more than just kisses.
- “Surreal but nice”? What was I thinking?
_______________________________________________________ The following few weeks after the start of Queendom Puzzle are just as sweet as that goodbye kiss. The late night chats with Nana, her random selfies from practice, during meals, or after recording, and occasional video calls. Naturally, you text her after every episode, praising her performance. She responds in kind, applauding your MC skills, and rambling about her experiences with the other participants. The relationship stays this vibrant and strong for a while, and the energy you get from it shows in your variety show, propelling its popularity into new heights. Which, sadly, means more interviews, ads, and what have you. All of that, paired with Nana having to practice more for the final few episodes, meant a little less time spent talking every day. It never dried out at least, but you wished you could actually see each other in person at times, and hoped she felt the same.
Then it finally arrives. It’s the 15th of August, and the airing of the final episode of “Queendom Puzzle”. Nana (obviously) made it into the last 14 with flying colours, raking up MVPs, and a solid spot in the rankings. Still, there was a chance, however slim, that she could falter at the last hurdle. You knew she wasn’t the type to fall into a false sense of safety, but it still felt appropriate to give her the extra motivation she might have needed. So you asked her manager in secret for the place and time of the shooting. Without much reluctance, she hooked you up, but advised caution.
Getting past the security was a bit tricky, but still possible. With an iced americano in one hand, and a box of spicy chicken feet in the other, you make your way through the maze of corridors, full of purpose. Room 8 was your goal, and, as Murphy's law dictates, it was at the very back of the corridor. It doesn’t matter. The only thing that actually does, is to meet Nana, and put a smile on her face. That ever radiant, healing smile. One can never get enough of it. To make sure that the surprise works, you arrive a solid 20 minutes before she does, so it’s time to catch up with the latest gossip. Nana’s manager - now also your wingwoman - texts you as they get past security. Your heart skips a beat, and you jump from the chair you have been sitting on ‘til now. After quickly hiding her presents, you fix your attire, and wait patiently. At least that’s what you hope it looks like, but even a blind man could tell how eager you are. Your quickening pulse, fidgeting fingers, and deep, long breaths are a dead giveaway of your true feelings.
You can hear as Nana nears the room, her voice echoing down the hallway as she practices her lines for the show. The door handle pivots, and the awaited angel finally steps into the room. She stops dead in her tracks the moment she sees you. Her eyes widen, and her jaw hangs agape for a moment, but then
 The change in her expression is like a slow motion study for AI training: her slightly open mouth shifts into a wide smile, showing off her pearly whites. Her eyes sparkle with an adoring glint, as if she just saw the cutest thing in the world. And, as usual of her when she gets this excited, she pushes her tongue out slightly, and bites down on it gently.
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- Hello, princess. - you greet her with a bow. Nana loses it right then, and rushes up to you with a loud squeal. You plant a little kiss on her cheek, and hug her close. Or at least try to, but she starts to jump up and down giddily, making it hard to properly hold onto her. Before she pulls away, she returns the kiss. Holding hands, you stand there, mere inches separating you, just staring at each other for a few seconds. Your adoration reflects in her brown eyes, glistening like morning dew on the petals of a Chocolate Cosmos. The laughs and shouting of some other contestants from down the hallway kick you both out of your trance.
- Oh, right! - you spin around, and grab the iced americano. - I got you this.
Her eyes light up instantly.
- Oh my god! You are a lifesaver!
She pounces on you like a panther, and snatches the cold beverage before you could say ‘meow’. You watch with an adoring, cheeky smile as she swallows gulp after gulp, a bit of coffee even missing its mark, dripping down on her chin in the big hurry.
- Whew
 I needed that. Would you believe that my manager - she points theatrically at the woman - forgot to buy me coffee? Today of all days?! - Uh
 That’s on me. - you admit, scratching your head with unease. - I kind of asked her to
 Nana crosses her arm, and squints at you suspiciously. She walks up to you with playfully angry stomps, which end up making her look adorable, rather than threatening, like a kid who didn’t get the toy they wanted.
- You don’t mess with a girl’s coffee! - she lashes out, reinforcing her point by tapping your chest with her index finger. Her faux outrage melts away after she sees how taken aback you are. She smiles at you sweetly then, and kisses your embarrassedly flushed cheek. - No need to plan stuff like this so you can swoop in like a saviour. - she stops mid-thought to take another sip. - I already like you, dummy.
You hear a scoff from her manager, and catch her rolling her eyes. You just smirk to yourself, knowing how cheesy it must seem from her POV.
- Sorry Nana! - you turn your back to her, snap up the bag with the dakbal, and offer it to her. A due prise for her winning the bet from the video, but it's also for motivation. - I hope this makes up for it somewhat.
With one eyebrow raised, she nabs the chicken feet tentatively. Or rather the box of chicken feet. Or rather the box of chicken feet inside a box. Or rather the box of chicken feet inside a box of chicken feet. Or rather the box of chicken feet inside a box of chicken feet inside a bag. Regardless, her face lights up for the third time today the moment she takes a whiff of her favourite delicacy. And that’s the point of it all. Not just seeing that contagious smile, but also the knowledge that you made her day just a little better. The way she dashes to you again, screeching joyfully as if she just won the lottery, and hugs you so tight that she squeezes the air out of your lungs, tells you that it may have made it more than just a little better.
- You are already forgiven!
She breaks away in a hurry, scattering to the chair to indulge in her precious dakbal. She hums in satisfaction as the flavours fill her mouth, which elicits an even wider grin from you. From the corner of your eyes you catch as Nana’s manager nods approvingly. Still, she has to be the responsible one when you are together: - Just don’t eat too much. You still have to perform.
- Mhm! - Nana acknowledges half-heartedly, gorging down on one chicken foot after the other. Her manager shakes her head disapprovingly, but can’t hold back a low chuckle.
- Whew
 That should give me enough energy for a while. - she wipes her hand and mouth, and thanks you again with a kiss on your cheek. - Gotta go now though. Need to change and get my makeup done. Will you watch from here? - she asks with a hopeful tone.
- Of course! Will be cheering for you from here all the way ‘til the end. And I will keep your manager company too. Whether she likes it or not. - you add with a wink aimed at said lady.
- Could be worse, I guess
 - she shoots back with a barely visible smirk.
Nana gives her manager a hug too, and they exchange a few words in secret. 
- Good luck, princess. Not that you need it.
The idol hugs you one last time, grabs her coffee, and waves the two of you goodbye before sauntering out the room.
- She is gonna kill it. - you break the few seconds of silence - You can just tell.
- Yeah. Especially with you here now. - the manager concurs, and nudges you in the side.
You watch the show with her, laughing, cheering, or crying along. After every performance is concluded, they invite the girls back on stage; it’s time to reveal the winners. Taeyeon calls them out from third place to sixth, and Nana is not amongst them. Of course, she was second during the previous vote, so it doesn’t phase you. Too much. Then the anxiety starts to eat at you when Hwiseo takes first place. Still, not too surprising, considering she finished there during the last episode as well.
Then finally, she is announced as the sixth member to join EL7Z UP, placing second overall in the votes. By that time you chew down every single nail on your fingers despite being sure she would make it. The other idols still on stage gather around her, cheering her on while also calming her down. When she takes the mic, it seems like she isn’t even crying anymore, but as soon as she tries to speak, her voice cracks in the cutest way possible, and it’s followed by an even cuter whimper. She gives her speech with a trembling voice, thanking everyone she can think of, and finally joins the other 5 girls on the pedestal. Her rightful place. You sob during it all, chuckling shakily during her most adorable moments. Even Nana’s cool calm and collected manager wipes a tear from her eyes. - Never once doubted her. - you break the melancholically cheerful silence - But damn it feels good to see her win.
- No kidding

After Yeeun is revealed as the final winner, and EL7Z UP’s line-up is complete, they celebrate on stage for a while. You chat with the manager about the ups and downs of the show, weighing in about the winners, the performances, and how amazing Taeyeon is. After a good half an hour, Nana finally returns, jumping into your arms. She lets out her remaining tension, soaking your shirt with her tears. You caress her back lovingly, whispering sweet little nothings to soothe her. The clock ticks by relentlessly, and Nana has to go again. She lets go of you with a long sigh, and wipes her face with a handkerchief her manager hands her. - I wish I could stay for longer. But I have to change, fix my makeup, talk to the girls– - It’s fine, princess. - you cut in - I will see you later, yeah? - Yes! How about this Friday? - she perks up - I know it’s soon, but I won’t have much free time before our debut. And I want to show you my favourite place before it starts to get cold. - Sure. I will make time for you. Whatever it takes. - you agree without hesitation. - Great! - she plants a quick kiss on your cheek, and skips out of the room.
You breathe out slowly. It’s finally over. Well, kind of. The stress of the survival show may be gone, but now comes the debut. The stakes might not be as high, but Nana will surely give her best, meaning you really won’t see her for the next few months. Again.
Why did I have to fall for an idol? - you ask yourself, but realise it’s no use to dwell on it. Such a fantastic girl is more than worth waiting for. It’s not like you are not busy yourself, and she won’t be active all year long. Still, it feels like the whole industry is against you, hell-bent on preventing this relationship. And it’s not completely false. Her agency would most likely not allow for it: Nana was already their best asset, and now she became even more valuable. Who cares? As long as her manager is chill with it - which she most definitely is now - and you two are careful, it should be fine. Should be. Has to be.
_______________________________________________________
Her sanctuary, as she calls it, is a smaller penthouse on the outskirts of Seoul. It’s a simple, cosy flat that feels perfect to come home to after a long day of work. It has everything you need, nothing less, nothing more. one bedroom with  a queen size bed, a decently equipped kitchen, a bathroom with a freestanding tub, and a cutesy living room. It’s just far away from the centre, so that the noises of the city can be faintly heard from inside, and just barely more from the balcony. And what a balcony it is. It’s the part that really screams ‘Nana’. Full of flowers and greenery, two blue lounge chairs with a glass table between them, and on it, a sight that melts your heart: the butterfly peas you bought her for her birthday. - Did you try making tea out of it? - you ask as you trace your fingers along the vibrant blue petals.
- No, not yet. I have barely been here since Queendom Puzzle started. I did have someone to water the plants though! They even cared for the plastic ones. - she adds with a melodic giggle.
- Wanna try now?
- Sure! Although
 I would hate to pluck it when it’s still so beautiful

Nana admires the plant with a sombre look before you speak up.
- Well, they are about to lose the flowers soon anyways. The days are getting colder and shorter.
She lets out a long sigh before agreeing to it. She takes a handful of pictures before you pluck the flower heads ever so carefully and rinse them. While you boil the water, the 1 girl grabs 2 cups and a jar of honey to prepare them. You wait 5-10 minutes until the hot water brings out the flavours and colours of the petals, then you indulge yourselves in the heart-warming delicacy.
- Mmmmh~ That’s nice. - Nana remarks as she slowly sips on the blue tea.
- Tastes like spring, doesn’t it?
Nana quickly nods in agreement.
- Now watch this. - you grab a wedge of lemon, and squeeze some of its juices into your cup. The liquid changes its deep blue hue to a glamorous purple within seconds as the acidic drops dissolve.
- Wow
 That’s gorgeous! But I like mine blue.
- I’m not surprised.
Compared to the first date, this feels even less tense. No preparations, no stakes, no nerves. Nana and you are already more than close friends, so there is no need to win her over. Now it’s really all about enjoying each other’s company and talking about anything and everything. She tells all about her pre-debut activities, her school years, and the shenanigans she got up to as a child. You in turn recount anecdotes from the same times of your life, sprinkled in with the first few months after coming to Korea, and starting your own variety show as a foreigner. The tea is followed by a few bottles of soju, along with some takeout. “Some”. It’s kind of a feast (again), but it all disappears eventually as the conversation goes on and on, delving more into your past adventures, your present passions, and your hopes and dreams for the future. The alcohol does its work in the meanwhile, smoothing out the already relaxed nerves even more, and colouring Nana’s porcelain skin in that Asian flush, giving her an ethereal look as the Sun starts to dip below the horizon. Your hand finds hers, and the two of you sit in a tranquil silence, watching the sky and clouds dance in the colours of the setting star.
- You know
 - Nana cuts into the quiet, giving you a warm, pensive look. - One can love the sunset, when one is happy, too.
It takes you a few seconds before it clicks, then your face lights up with a tender smile.
- You remembered?
- Of course! I haven’t found time yet to read it, but I will.
- Because of that one line? - No. Because it’s important to you. Such a simple statement, yet so powerful. If anyone ever wondered how someone can confess their feelings without saying it outright, they would have found it right here. Just as the last rays of sunlight dim, you bring her hand to your lips, and plant a compassionate kiss on the back of her palm. After that, looking into her eyes, you both understand the depth and strength of this connection within a moment’s notice.
- And you are so much more important, princess.
The equally corny and touching response earns you Nana’s signature smile, though it seems different from the usual: more sincere and less practiced. Something that merely a couple people have seen if you had to guess. And as many times before, your heart turns into mush, a sweet concoction of affection and adoration, with a pinch of lust.
While the night claims its domain, coating the skies above in pitch black, you clean up the remains of the feast, and grab two blankets. You stay out stargazing for a long while, searching for constellations, and admiring the waning Moon before you move back inside the apartment. Just as Nana is about to dive into her next story, a long yawn interrupts her. It’s not that late yet, but the day was long. For her the whole summer was long.
- I guess it’s time I head home. You should rest while you can. - No! - she objects instantly, then sinks into the couch with a sheepish smile. - Would you stay for the night? Please? You chuckle faintly, and sit down right next to her.
- If that’s what the princess wants

She leans her head on your shoulder with a tired giggle. Your hand reaches around her, rubbing her side ever so slowly. The little incubus at the back of your head is screaming to lunge at her, but you kill the voice, knowing it’s not the time. Not yet. Maybe you won’t see her until her promotions end, but if you cross this bridge now, it might be even harder on the both of you, having to go without intimacy for months after a most likely wonderful night together. So you bide your time. It will be worth it in the end, even if holding back at the moment feels awful.
While Nana takes a shower and washes her face, you drive home for your pyjamas and a toothbrush. Once you are back, she is already lying on the bed, mindlessly scrolling on her phone. She flashes you a weak smile, though you barely catch it, as the view of her bare legs distract you. You grit your teeth, and head to the bathroom to change and wash up, cursing your luck. It should have been obvious that she would be wearing shorts to bed in the summer, but your mind was elsewhere when you agreed to sleep over.
You step back into the room, and join Nana under the covers. You decide it’s best not to poke the bear in your boxers, and stay on your side of the bed, but Nana has other plans. “She needs cuddles” - she says. “It helps her sleep better, and she missed it so bad.” - she explains. You can’t say no to her pouting lips and puppy eyes, but what comes after is the true challenge. She nestles into you, not leaving any space between your bodies, not even in the most intimate places. Her round and firm backside assumes its position against your pelvis, pressing into you as if she didn’t know it was one of the most seductive things a girl could do in this situation. You have to call upon every god in the sky, on Olympus, in Asgard, on Mount Meru, and in Takamagahara, to help you out in this seemingly unwinnable battle. Their combined might is indeed enough to suppress your desires, and you relax with her, hugging her close like a plushie. - Good night princess. - your voice is groggy as you place a kiss on the back of her head. - Good night Little Prince. - she is already fading away into sleep, but she holds onto your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours before she drifts off. You follow suit, her soft whimpers lulling you to rest in no time.
_______________________________________________________
One of the drawbacks of living on the top floor, is that the Sun disturbs the idyllic early mornings, totally unasked for. With eyes wide shut, you turn away from the celestial intruder, meeting face to back with an angel. Instead of wings, her chestnut locks spread out on the mattress before you. It obviously wouldn’t be courteous to wake her, but it’s also a crime not to cosy up to a sleeping beauty in a moment like this. So you scoot closer, and ever so cautiously wrap an arm around her petite body. If it wasn’t for the deities who helped you yesterday, you would be in an awkward situation again, but your little buddy decided not to give Nana a rude awakening.
- Hmmm~ I could get used to waking like this. - she mumbles as she finally wakes, and wiggles deeper into your embrace, snuggling up to your warmth like a cat.
- And I could get used to sleeping like this.
She lets out an amused sigh, and starts to run her fingers along your forearm, carefully scraping it with her nails.
- Too bad we can’t stay here all day, huh?
- Yeah
 too bad. Maybe if you weren’t such a great performer, you wouldn’t have made it into EL7Z UP, and you wouldn’t have to go to practice and meetings today. - you tease her.
- Maybe
 But sorry, I am not throwing that away for you.
- I would rather have you throw me out if I actually asked something so ridiculous of you.
- Good. Now shut up and kiss me! - she demands out of nowhere, and flips around in a flash.
You don’t even have time to protest - as if you wanted to - before her lips press hungrily against yours. Your stale morning breaths take nothing away from the enjoyment and the beauty of the act. The chirps of birds and the early commotion of the waking city fade into the distance, replaced by Nana’s barely audible moans, your heavy breaths, and the smacks of your lips. The make-out is just as sweet as it is urgent, but you refrain from using your tongues for the sake of keeping it PG - you know you wouldn’t be able to hold back if she let you venture further. She is not so restrained though: her fingers run through your hair as she pulls you in deeper, and her soft little breasts squish against your chest, drawing blood to your nether region. But before things could get out of control, your rumbling stomach comes to the rescue. “If only it didn’t need to.” - you curse silently in your head. With flushed cheeks and short, shallow breaths, Nana pulls away.
- Breakfast?
- Breakfast
 Do you have eggs and bacon?
- I should, yeah. Want me to make some?
- No thanks. I can do it. Do you want some too?
- Uhmm
 Sure! I would like a proper breakfast while I can. But I wanna help!
- You’re the boss, boss.
She steals one last cheeky kiss before jumping out of bed, and chassés out of the room. You follow her (butt) with your eyes, then join her in the kitchen.
- Can you grab the things please? - Nana asks as she turns on the stove, and pours the oil into a large pan.
- Sure thing.
Despite you telling her beforehand that you would do the cooking for both of you, she doesn’t give you a chance. Wanting to be a good host, or so she says. You are not one to complain about a lack of work in the morning, so you at least have to pay her back somehow, right? And what better way than a playful bump of your hips against hers, an affectionate hug from behind, or a few delicate kisses on her neck and shoulders. Nana doesn’t reject her payment, and you can feel her skin heat up under your touch. It could be from the fire of the stove, but her crimson ears let you know it’s your doing. When she is almost done, you set the table, and pour out two glasses of orange juice.
You eat in mostly quiet, watching the Sun climb higher on the cloudless sky, only occasionally speaking up. Exactly like on the first date though, it’s not an awkward silences, it’s just
 comfortable. You will have many more times in the not so near future to discuss any hot topic, or whatever’s on your minds, but this serene morning needs none of that. It only needs the two of you, stolen glances, exchanged smiles, and some cold oj to flush down the tasty food.
She offers you coffee after you’re done; an offer you can’t refuse, but state one condition in return: “I’m doing the dishes then.” She brings the soul warming beverage to the sofa, where the two of you cuddle up, watching some dumb morning show for entertainment. Your hand roams along her body dutifully through it all, earning you hums of delight. Sadly, the good times come to an end sooner than expected when Nana gets a call from her manager, informing her about a crucial, and certainly critical conference in the coming hour.
- I’ll let you get ready, then. - you tell her, slightly dejected, but not at all surprised.
- Yeah, thanks
 You first do the dishes as promised, then head to the bathroom to dress up while she does the same in her bedroom. After a long kiss, you say your goodbyes.
- I’ll see you
 whenever, I guess. - you say with a bitter smile.
- I’ll try to make time for you, but I can’t promise anything. - her eyes cast down on the floor, trying not to face the inevitable.
You grab her chin, and bring her eyes up to meet yours briefly, before you give her one more peck on her lips. For the first time you have known her, they were slanting down, but you pour every bit of reassurance into the kiss, and though she doesn’t exactly smile after you pull away, she at least looks less gloomy.
- You just focus on this group first, okay? Don’t push yourself too hard, because I will wait for you, however long it takes.
She darts at you with a tight hug, not letting go of you until she has committed your scent and feel to memory.
- Thank you. I will do my best for you.
- I don’t doubt that for a second. But do it for yourself.
_______________________________________________________
You knew what you signed up for, but that still doesn’t console you. Working, and meeting up with your friends can’t replace Nana’s absence in your life. She puts most of her energy into preparing for her debut, understandably so, and the two of you barely even chat during her promotions. Meetings are almost completely out of the question, bar a few coffees, and a short walk with your dog here and there. The only positive thing about all of this is watching Nana shine on stage more than ever. Even during the rendezvous, she goes on about how much fun it is with the new members, how talented and kind they are, and how much she loves the songs, dances, and concepts. She can’t hide her fatigue though, tainting the sweet times with a somewhat bitter undertone. They even travelled to Japan two times, once to France, and once to Saudi Arabia, and no matter how much you wanted to follow her, there was no way it was ever feasible or logical.
And of course, once the promotions for their first EP 7+UP ends, they almost immediately announce their next comeback in early 2024, threatening even more packed schedules for her, and even less dates for you. Fortunately or not, that somehow fizzles out, but of course, Nana’s agency jumps on the opportunity, riding her newfound fame, striking while the iron is hot: they announce WOOAH’s single releasing in April. Between all this chaos and dickering, only one thing is for certain: you have to meet. You have both waited enough, sacrificed enough, now it’s time to reap in your rewards.
While her bosses deal with legal stuff between WOOAH an EL7Z UP, and set up for the release of BLUSH, you have a few weeks of freedom, and you use it to the fullest. You drink and dine out, go to karaoke and bowling with friends, and during all this, your love for Nana only grows. Finally being with her again, fully, and this frequently, reminds you why you fell for her in the first place: her carefree but never careless attitude, her kind words, her playful teasing, her precious smile and even more precious laughter, her perfect body in your arms, and those soft lips that taunt you to kiss her every time your gaze lands on them, even if there are people watching.
And naturally, it doesn’t take long to give in to the desires you both have held back for God knows how long. After the first few dates, it’s time you cross this bridge. It wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you met up in the afternoon in early February for a BBQ with her friends, but it was always in the cards. Valentine’s day was just around the corner, and you could have waited to make it the most special day of all, but something about today just felt right. Maybe it was how she fed you while you cooked for the group, how she kept looking at you with those curious, adoring eyes, how she snuggled close whenever she could, how she leaned her head on your shoulder, how she clung onto your hand during your walk home, or most likely all of the above.
In any case, it led you here, to this exact moment. You are lying on your bed, and for the first time in many months, it’s not your dog you share it with. Nana is on top of you, her tongue pushing against your lips as you make out, impatiently searching for a way in, which you hastily surrender to her. You have never seen her this zealous, this hungry for you. “I guess she has had enough too.” Sensing her intentions, your hands creep down from her back, and land on her perky ass. It’s time you shed the pretences, and go for what she is offering. What’s yours for the night, and most likely for the foreseeable future, but hopefully forever. You fondle the supple flesh and spread her cheeks apart as much as her jeans allow. She rewards you with moans you can only describe as lewd. Especially for such a gracious girl as her.
Her hands are holding either side of your neck, pulling you impossibly close, deepening the kiss, like she feared you would get away if she let go of you for a second. Her fingers then snake down on your chest, her fingertips tracing teasing circles around your nipple before feeling up your pecs and abs. She moans into the kiss again, but it’s this time more out of appreciation for your fit physique than from the heat that’s building inside her. In the meantime, you reach under her top to rub along the smooth skin of her lower back. The feeling presumably ignites something within her, because she starts to grind against your growing bulge, eliciting a hushed groan from you this time.
It’s a risky limbo of long suppressed lust and never-ending affection. One side of you simply wants to pin her down, and fuck her brains out until she is addicted to you, to your cock, but the more sentimental side yearns for her gentle touches, her sweet kisses, and her soft whimpers of satisfaction, were you to slowly make love to this princess on top of you. The way she quickly reaches for your groin, but stops at the edge of your pants in hesitation, lets you know she is battling with the same demons. And being the sensible man you are, you won’t force her into something she is not hundred percent comfortable with. Nevertheless, you lift your hips, seeking her touch, while also giving her the green light she might have needed.
She doesn’t bite just yet though - except for your lower lips at times. Instead she matches the movement of your hands, and her digits sneak under your shirt to explore your tensing muscles. The arousal is literally palpable, even your clothes start to feel too hot now. As the restrictions start to crumble, Nana takes the first real step: in the blink of an eye she breaks the kiss, sits up, and pulls off her shirt in one move. You barely have a second to admire her athletic upper body, because as soon as she throws her top away, her lips are pressing against yours again. It doesn’t take long for her to reach for your top after that; her fingers hook into the fabric, and you lift from the bed to help her remove it. This time she takes a few seconds to drink in your sight; that lets you enjoy her tantalizing fitness in return.
- Fuck
 You are so-
You can’t even finish the sentence, because with a wide grin, she lunges at you, continuing her oral assault where she left off. The sloppy sound of your make-out fills the room, along with heavy breaths and muffled whimpers of arousal. Her fair skin is like velvet under your fingertips as you brush them across her back with unrestrained need. The back of her bra gets in the way of the exploration, but she gives you a quick approval for you to unclasp it. She wiggles out of the pesky piece of fabric, and again, she gives you a mere glimpse of her pert tits before pressing them against your chest to resume with the smooches. Her lips slowly leave yours, and make their way down your jawline, across your neck, and onto your chest. A move you would have rather done to her yourself, but certainly aren’t against to be on the receiving end of. Persistently, she moves further south, only stopping when she reaches your abdomen. She looks up at your flustered face, and with a sly grin, she unbuttons your pants, and unzips your fly. With the lowered resistance, your erection bursts forward, tenting your boxers, the last barrier between you and heaven. Nana tugs at your pants; doesn’t even wait for you to raise your hips, she just yanks it off, but in doing so, your underwear comes off with them. Your cock springs free, and stands at attention proudly, twitching in anticipation. As your princess marvels at your manhood, you get to gawk at her modest, perky breasts. You swear you can see her pink nipples harden, and you give yourself all the credit, since the air in your room is more than warm at this point.
Nana’s mouth hangs agape as she cautiously drops to her knees. You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look of her reaching for your pole. Her delicate fingers wrap around your girth tentatively, mapping your pulsing veins. Her clutched palm moves along your shaft in a measured fashion, her eyes locked onto her prize. - Such a nice cock
 You look at her curiously, somewhat caught off guard by her statement, but before you could give it much thought, her lips are already hovering your leaking tip. She looks up at you with those innocent cocoa-hued eyes, though you can’t find any trace of modesty in her gaze. It’s filled with lust and hunger as she opens wide to take you inside. You hiss at first, when her hot breath hits your meat, then you let out the air in a shaky breath when she envelopes you in the slick and soppy embrace of her mouth. Your head cocks back for a second, but you regain composure, just so you can look into her eyes. She never breaks eye contact as she dutifully takes more and more of your length into her greedy mouth. She pushes her tongue out with practiced ease, making sure your main vein slides nicely alongside the rougher surface.
Your glans reach her uvula, but she doesn’t gag, merely pauses for a second. Even that’s just for show, because she grins (as much as you dick inside her mouth lets her), and in a heartbeat, she has swallowed you whole, leaving you dazed, reeling, about to break, but above all, impressed and extremely horny. Her eyes start to tear up after a few seconds, and only then she starts to remove your member in a leisurely manner. Her drool covers you from head to balls as she slowly jerks your cock, still looking into your widened eyes, spittle dripping down from her chin.
- Holy shit, Nana.
She flashes you a cheeky, victorious smile. - Not gonna lie, I didn’t think I could take it all. I haven’t been with a guy in quite some time, and none of them were packing like you. Her smirk fades, replaced by a sulking pout as she sees your confused expression. - Did you not like it?
You shake your head.
- No, I did! It felt fucking amazing. It’s just unexpected, is all. I never imagined you to had this side.
- It’s kind of new to me too, to be honest. But I’m sooo horny right now. Have been for a long while, to be honest. You were just so nice today. To me, to my friends, even to the cashier at the shop. You always have been, and you don’t even know what that's doing to me. I have never felt this attraction to anyone, and I
 I can’t help it. I want you. So fucking bad.
You reach for her blushing cheeks to caress her, which she welcomes with a satisfied sigh. - I want you too, Nana. But I’m sure you know that.
You lean down, and bring her face to yours for a kiss. It’s sweet and sensual, unlike the ones a few minutes ago. Those few words along with this romantic smooch is all she needed for reassurance. She steps away with a wink, and stares at you as she finally takes her pants off. It’s slow and measured, challenging you to stand up and rip them off, but you are too focused on her slender legs, and the blue-striped panties to move even a muscle. When the jeans finally are off, she kicks them to the side, and with short, calculated steps, she makes her way back to you. With both hands on your shoulders, she pushes you onto your back so she can straddle your lap. The wetness of her core seeps through her underwear as she desperately grinds against your throbbing cock. When you reach for her ass again, you realize it’s not just any pair of panties: it’s a thong. When she sees your surprise, she just grins. - I need you in me right now.
To back up her words, she peels the thin, moist fabric to the side; she can’t be bothered to waste another second to actually take them off. She drags her soaking folds across your spit-coated rod a few times, giving it another layer of her slick juices. You hold your breath to listen to the barely audible wet noises, but her quickening squeals of delight suppress the noise. After a few seconds, when she deems you well lubed enough, she lifts herself, and brings your tip to her entrance. Again, you barely have a second or two to take in the glorious sight before she moves. A sharp inhale, then she sinks down on you. Not slowly. Not carefully. And despite her incredible tightness, she manages to take all of you in a single, reckless motion.
- What the- Jesus! - she screams as you bottom out.
- T-take your time, princess. - you suggest, but it’s for your own good too, because the snugness of her raw pussy is almost unbearable. You don’t even question the foregoing of condoms, you assume she knows best.
She doesn’t even seem to have heard your words, too lost in need, too impatient, after having to wait months for you. Without warning, or any easing into it, she rises up, until only your tip remains inside her silken warmth, then slams down onto you. The sharp slap of your skins echoes through the room, but not for long; this wasn’t a one time trick, or something to show off, just an appetizer. She repeats the motion again and again, harder and faster each time. Her legs can barely handle the brutal pace her body demands, so she fixes her position. With her feet planted firmly on either side of your hips, and her hands propped on your chest for support, she resumes pounding you. It might sound ironic, but there is no arguing about it: she is the one in control, she is the one doing all the work, practically using your pulsing heat as a living dildo to vent her pent up frustrations out with. - Fucking hell
 Slow down! - you plead between short, ragged breaths as you hold onto her thighs for dear life, leaving red marks on her flawless skin. - I- I can’t
 I need this
 I need YOU, damnit! I have waited long enough

She looks you in the eye, and in it, you can see it all. The glints of almost obsessive adoration fuelled by months of longing and affection. The guilt of hidden desires and the fire of hardly concealed lust. It’s all there, and you can’t believe it’s all for you. You can’t believe how lucky you are to have this angel turn into this insatiable succubus, drunk on your love, riding you into a world of pleasure that may have never been discovered by any other. And within those passion-darkened eyes, you see yourself: a perfect reflection of all her feelings. It’s not like she was the only one who has been fighting back their urges for days on end.
- You understand, right? - she asks, still smashing her ass against your pelvis with unwavering cadence.
- Of course
 - you admit between groans. - Let me prove it. You clutch onto her legs with force to keep her in place. She cocks her head in confusion– then you thrust into her. She yelps. Her back arches. Her nails dig into your chest. And the erotic display is fuel to the fire, to your pistoning cock. The pace she has set before? You double it. That causes her voice to grow in volume two-fold too.
- Ah! Y/N! - she cries out, which spurs you on to fuck her even harder.
Now that you have taken the lead, and aren’t just along the ride - though what a ride it was - you have the chance to examine her petite body. You start from the top with her face, or at least want to, but her head is still thrown back, moaning your name between obscenities as pleasure takes over her mind. Her reddened neck looks primed to leave hickeys on, albeit that’s for another time. For an occasion when she doesn’t have to cover it up with makeup from prying eyes. Below that, her small, perky tits bounce with your every stab into her needy cunt. You reach for them with both arms, and grope her soft mounds. She bites her lips from that, but then her jaw slacks open with a guttural howl when you pinch her aroused pink nipples, and roll them between your fingers. The reaction is exactly what you hoped for, so your digits stay on her itty-bitties to continue their work. Your eyes continue their work in the meanwhile. They land on her tummy. Her abs flex constantly as she tries to keep herself steady on top of you. Her skin is patterned by little drops of sweat, some of which give in to gravity and roll down in the crevice of her toned midriff. And the more you fuck her, the more her body glows with sweat. Not too far underneath her cute belly button, the sight of her completely shaved pussy greets you. It’s arguably the most beautiful thing you have ever seen, even in its current state. Or maybe that’s exactly what makes it so enticing. It’s swollen and flushed, her folds already covered in grool, yet your pounding draws even more of the precious nectar out.
*What a shame I couldn’t taste it. Yet. * - you think to yourself.
Nana finally gets a hold of herself, at least enough to look at you. The craving in her eyes is softened with an infatuation that makes you blush. She leans forward with a weak smile, her fingers brush along your cheekbones in a soothing way, raising goosebumps on your arms. The stark contrast between the gentle touch and the obscene slapping of flesh against flesh throws you off, but your hips are moving on their own at this point, unbothered by the sudden show of affection. Not that she intended for you to slow down anyways, just wanted to look at you, adore you, one last time before she comes undone.
Because after holding back for months, this first orgasm comes fast and hits hard, like a bullet train of pleasure. Her eyes are still on yours, but glassy and unfocused now. She bites down on her tongue, trying to hold back a moan, as if she was suddenly self-conscious about making so much noise (little does she know, there aren’t any neighbours around to worry about). You give her taut ass a sharp whack, and that’s enough to get her to scream and arch her back.
- Yes-yes-yes-yes-yes-yes!!!
You don’t just let her savour the orgasm though. No. You fuck her through it. Overwhelming her senses to a degree she can’t contain. You press your thumb onto her clit– a few circles around her pearl is all it takes to turn her into a quivering mess. Her legs give out, and she drops onto your lap, practically impaling herself on your dick, preventing you from pounding her further. Her mouth is open, and you wait for a moan, a curse, a cry, but none of it ever comes. Nana doesn’t even breathe. The only sign of life you get is her walls squeezing around you periodically, clamping down on your rock solid pole.
It’s sort of a miracle you don’t lose it right there. But you hold back because you want more. More of her moans. More of her tight, silky heat. More of her pretty face distorted with pleasure. More of her jiggling breasts. More of her firm ass. More of Nana.
- Holy fuck! - she finally speaks up amidst shallow breaths - That was incredible
 I never
 I never came so hard in my life.
- Yeah, that felt unreal. - you agree, lacing your fingers through hers. - You are fucking perfect.
- But
 But you didn’t finish yet. - she notes, slightly disappointed, but not discouraged, evident by her playful smirk. - Maybe a good look at my butt would help.
With your cock still inside her drenched slit, she spins around, and nestles into your lap. She tries to go fast right away, but her still sensitive pussy forces her to take a moment before she could properly ride you. At first, you grab onto the sheets, just watching as ripples tear through her glistening ass. But you can’t go on like that for long. Not when such perfection is right in front of you, taunting you, begging to be played with. And so you reach out, take both her taut cheeks in your palms, and give them a nice squeeze.
- Mmmh~ I knew you would like it.
- I fuckin’ LOVE it. - you correct her. When she looks back at you over her shoulders, her hair cascades down on her back, sticking to her sweaty skin. Her lust-filled gaze finds yours, stuck to her cute little bottom, and to the puckered hole in its centre. A knowing smile tugs at her lips as she turns forward again, and she rides you even faster. You spread her cheeks to get a better look at her rear entrance; it twitches, daring you to make a move. And you don’t need to be asked twice. After licking your thumb to lube it up, you inch closer and closer to her backdoor, and since Nana doesn’t protest, you press forward. To your surprise, it gives way to you without much resistance, as if she was prepared for it, wishing for it even. And judging by her loud, almost deafening moan, that’s exactly the case.
The added sensation makes her already tight cunt clench your dick even harder. She gasps, shuddering, but she doesn’t stop. She can’t. She wants to push you to your peak and past that. She wants you to cum for her, to show her how much you adore her, how much she turns you on, how good she feels. If only she knew.
- Come on Y/N
 Cum for me! - she begs as she rolls her hips in a way only a practiced dancer like she can.
Your reply is a moan. A desperate, covetous wail, that gives away just how close you are to the edge. Teetering on the brink, facing the abyss
 An abyss of pure bliss and overflowing emotions. Its pull is irresistible, as is Nana, and you feel the inferno in your abdomen building up, threatening to erupt at any time. And no matter how wet she is, how much she is leaking all over your lap and onto the bed sheets, it only feeds the fire more, along with your own unravelling. You are almost there, and Nana knows it too from the way your length twitches more and more inside her, and from your short, laboured breaths through gritted teeth.
- Please just fill me up already! Now that’s just cheating. One that probably works eleven out of ten times. Your body locks up as you drown in the pleasure. You try to hold her still against your pelvis as you start to unload inside her welcoming little hole, but she slaps your trembling hands away, and rides you even faster.
Did you really think she wouldn’t pay back for the ‘favour’ of you overstimulating her when she came? You should have known better.
She fucks you, until you’re a shaking mess under her– until her second orgasm hits. The way your combined moans fill the room (the whole house, really) along with the wet sounds of your mixing juices, as it sloshes around lewdly with Nana’s every movement, is completely obscene. It’s a beautifully filthy symphony, played by and for the two of you.
A/N: Your dog is in the garden, preoccupied with searching for a treat he buried a week ago, in case you’re wondering.
Nana rolls her hips slowly to ride out the last moments of her orgasm, while also milking your cock for every last drop of cum you have to offer. She purrs in delight as you fill her thirsty womb, then, once you have nothing left to give, she turns around and collapses on top of you– entirely spent, and thoroughly satisfied. Her hot breath tickles your neck as she lies on your chest, but you barely register it. Your brain is locked onto the receptors in your nether region. Still, with how out of it you are, you manage to command your body to do one thing: hug Nana close.
The two of you stay in that sticky embrace, your chests heaving against the other’s with each shallow breath while your spunk slowly drips out of her used slit. It takes a few minutes before either of you come down from the high, able to speak again.
- You are way too good at that. That had to be my biggest load yet.
- Thanks, handsome~ You are no slouch yourself. - she returns the flattery along with a small kiss, then looks at you. Her eyes sparkle with the afterglow of your ravenous lovemaking, but she has a slightly bashful expression on. - This- This was the first time anyone came inside me. I don’t know what came over me, I was just so turned on, so horny, and I really wanted to know what it felt like, and I wanted it to be you, because I didn’t know when we could do this again
 And I don’t want you to think I’m the kind of girl, who just sleeps around for the heck of it, opening her legs for any-
You shut her yapper with a deep, passionate kiss, until she finally relaxes in your arms.
- You have nothing to explain, Nana. Not to me, not to yourself. - your fingers brush through her hair for further reassurance.
She stares back with adoration, then lays her head on your chest with a sigh. The stark contrast between the rough sex and the intimacy of this moment doesn’t elude you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s not like you went all out because there was not even a trace of emotion between you; it’s the exact opposite. You were both so starved for physical affection, so head over heels for the other, that this was the best and only way to release everything that’s been consuming you since your first kiss.
- I hate to be this responsible right now, - you disrupt the blissful peace - but I should take a piss. And I really need to hydrate.
- Sure
 You go ahead and do that
 I’ll just
 wait for you here

You steal a kiss before she rolls off of you, then you leave the room in your boxers. After you accomplish your mission and let Bingley inside, you return to Nana with two bottles of water.
- Here. You should drink too.
- Oh yeah, thanks.
- Want me to lend you a shirt for the night? - you ask after emptying half the bottle.
- Hmmm, no. I want to fall asleep cuddling like this.
- As you wish, princess.
You discard the soaked blankets for a clean one, take off your boxers, then lie behind Nana with your arms wrapped around her exhausted body. The strong scent of sex lingers in the room, only dampened by the sweetness of Nana’s shampoo. She settles deeper into your calming embrace, her bare skin still warm and damp with exertion, and it feels sooo nice against your body. Like she was always meant to be right there. Right here. With you. The only sound disturbing the tranquil silence is the nestling from her thighs as they absentmindedly rub together at the delicious soreness you left in her. Until you remember something.
- Oh! Just one more thing.
- Mmm? - she groans, barely awake.
- I love you.
- I know. - she leaves the words hanging for a few, very uncomfortable seconds - I love you too.
Her breaths become silent purrs, and her pulse slows to a soothing thrum against your palm on her stomach. She threads her fingers through yours, content, loved, comfy, pleased.
- Good night princess.
- Mmm~
You stay awake for a while, drawing little circles on the back of her hand, replaying the events of today in your head. Especially this last half an hour. Would she have been like this if you went all the way earlier? Who knows? Who cares? Was it worth the wait regardless? Absolutely. Because all that matters is her, lying in your arms, naked, after the best sex of your life. So far! Because with Nana, you know you will have all the fun in the world– in and out of bed. And doubtless, she will prove that in the morning when she wakes up by your side. By her beloved Y/N.
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