#So am I faking for attention or is it real because of a need for attention
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Genuinely i wonder how common it is to hallucinate / perceive things oddly / have a notably altered perception of things
#alda rambling#I feel like no one ever talks about it near me so I don't know#If its just that no one else feels it or I'm the only one freaking out about it#Maybe everyone or many ppl feel the way I feel and I'm the only person who can't handle it#Or very few people feel how I feel and I'm repressing it to fit in#Isn't there some kind of group for this. Do I have to join reddit. I don't want to join reddit#I've definitely talked about it before but ahaha. No answers you see. So I continue#(If you have experience with this I'd appreciate a line xo )#I mean. I'm a textbook case of Keeping It To Myself#But also I fear I have main character syndrome#Which makes me think I'm faking everything and I'm just a normal gal who needs attention#But isn't THAT a bit of a mental hypochondriac thing too?#So am I faking for attention or is it real because of a need for attention#Either way I lose lmao so that means it must be real#No but seriously. If you have experience with this I'd love a reach-out it does have me slightly freaked out.
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Hello, Jen! I hope youâre having a lovely day today. đ
Iâm not sure if youâve ever experienced this, but I feel like thereâs a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being a lesbian. Having a sexuality that stems from the absence of men makes me feel very removed from other people, sometimes even other queer people. Have you ever felt that way? How do you handle that? As much as I love being a lesbian, sometimes I yearn to be attracted to men just so I feel a little less lonely.
I would say I have felt the isolation and loneliness you are talking about even in LGBT+ spaces.
In high school many of the girls around me were "boy crazy" and they were at once made to feel bad for that and praised. It was weird to me as I watched them talk about how great boys were only to also hear them in secret being grossed our OR worse, scared of the boys they publicly "chased".
Since I felt the no real need get the attention of boys but knew it was expected I thought it was a phase. That we were all like of faking it until the attraction was real. That set me up to very often second guess any feelings of sexuality towards women, thinking it was me misinterpreting the way everything was supposed to play out.
As I got older most of my friends in college were gay men or women who dated women but did NOT use lesbian and almost all of them them went on to marry men while the gay men continued on as gay men. This made me feel like perhaps I was the odd one out. I did have an RA who was out and open but I was skeptical I could ever be as brave or confident in my sexuality as she was. What happens if I too was in a phase and had to leave behind any woman I formed a relationship with only to grow up and marry a man?
I literally was waiting for the "phase" my mom and my peers and media was telling me I was in to finally end. Thankfully (because I LOVE being a lesbian) it was not a phase. The phase we being unsure and repressed about it.
The good news that I can impart from experience is that the more lesbians you meet the more you see that you are not alone and we can experience different things and still deeply connect on our sexuality. It gets less lonely as you get more life under your belt and truly love your sexuality as a lesbian for things that media can't explain but other lesbians can. The deep connection to women, the intimacy that is mutual and so warm it makes your entire body and mind content while in each other's arms.
I used to want to be straight just because it looked easier and safer. Now I would take on hell or high water to stay just as a I am.
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sometimes my bestfriend is like an angel in disguise istg
#i was justttttt thinking that aw it's so sad that navratri music is playling everywhere and i don't have friends to go with#like last year atleast i had tuition sorta friends but now ive isolated them too it sucks#but i was like well it's okay ill do it when i grow up celebrate every festival i didn't get to in my house because we just never do#and then she calls and she's like let's go this club jahan every year famous hota hai full celebration#and i was like ehh i don't want to i don't even know how to play and ill have to convince dad for raat can't we just#go to a cafe or something dopahar mein uske liye i don't even need permission#and she even agreed but she sounded sad and disappointed about it so i was like well fuck it you want to go club na#and she was like yeahhh so i was like aagh okay and i asked and we're going tomorrow!!!!!#and it's so ridiculous like i just say i don't want to go but it's actually so exciting to go someplace other than a cafe!!!!#and i was complaining to her ki okay ill go but i won't dress up and five mins later me and mumma are making full outfit with dupatta#style decided jewellery she has saved for years that are specifically navratri types and she's like we'll get my blouse altered it's fine#you know being sick has really given me perspective on my parents#im not going to hate my mom anymore i never used to growing up i always thought she was brave but helpless#but a stupid day in 12th i realised when we were talking that technically she COULF get divorced she just#doesn't want to because she'll be alone and she thinks we're growing up and leaving anyway so why should she let go of financial#stability for us. which is wild to me because girl you can't buy anything you want without his permission so i don't understand what's the#point if he's rich or poor but whatever whatever she's been raised this way etc etc#but anyway being sick really made me realise who the real monster isđ all dad did was shout horribly at me all the time#and was like don't you dare take meds they're fake this is all just junk food stop eating it and you'll be fine. when i was literally#having 103 FEVER.#and mom was the one who was making me different drinks juices cutting up fruits staying with me as i get my blood drawn#checking my fever sote jaagte#like wow i literally wouldn't have gotten better if it wasn't for her and i couldn't believe how attentive and nice she was being#like yes i understand she just thinks this is her duty she's just playing her role a mother a housewife but still#idk i just realized that okay atleast she's good at being a mother dad isn't even that why am i feeling good about him when his love#not even love his politeness is so fucking conditional#and mom healed me even tho i told her about clubbing and drinking lots of alcohol she's kinda against it because she's seen#horrible things in life family yucky men but still she understands ans trusts my sister mostly and know we just do it for fun and she#wasn't even mad!!!!!!! like wow ooay#moms love is actually not conditional for the first time in my life i felt like if i fall maybe she could be there to catch me and dad wld
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..
#god im so sorry for vènting so damn much there is something so wrong with my head right now#every bit of positive attention ive gotten recently or even just attention in general sometimes has made me want to shed my skin#and on top of that there are Things in my head and i am worried it may be ********* but im too frightened to do any sort of research into i#but also hooo boy do i feel like im faking because like jet come on thats a trauma thing. you just kinda got yelled at SHUT UP YOURE FINE#and thats probably the biggest thing fucking me up right now because like im probably wrong but what if im right. dear fuck what then.#Ă nd also im scared to talk about it with anyone that does experience ********* because i feel so shitty insinuating that i went through#something like that when i know damn well i didnt#like oh wow you had a weird childhood ok jet get fucked everyones got a weird childhood#anyway. i need to like#talk to a stranger with ********* so im not so grossly embarrassed maybe#fuck#also lĂŹke i just wanna stop talking to everyone but i started a zine and i cant abandon that and its upsetting me#like i need to fade into nothingness but i cant right now :/#anyway . desr lord why am i like this. what is inside me. what is going on.#delete later#jet maybe you need to get hit real hard by a car and that will do a hard reset and everything will be ok#vent#ALSO MY PARTNER IS GĹADUATING AND I CANT FUCKING BE THERE.#was litèrally sobbing over that this morning. i am so proud of them and they look so happy but also i cant be there#all i want is to hug them and cong��atulate them in person and give them a big bouquet of flowers but NO.#anyway. UGH.
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I think performing all the time is what make me hate other people and society. Like not being not understood but more like performance all the time. Its necessary sometimes but all the time it's toxic and drowning. I am trying to be more sincere now with my life.
#n.#i think yeah thats my problem#i cant act sincere#like even when i act sincere i feel like i am just performing#but no#performativeness needs to be something i control not something that controls me#also ots kimda causes being manupilative like i cant live without being in control of situation so i cam perform perfectly#i don't want attention or anything i just want to somehow fit into role i created myself but this roles are most of time useless#even now i am putting a filter to my thoughts#but i think this is good kind of performance#like sometimes roles are important too and they are just real me just fancier more polished#not fake#i think i need to find balance just#another things english also affects my communication because actually i am not that good and i always try to check before communicating#like not alwyas but still i domt wanna use wrong phrases or words so i do a proofreading of my comment#i should also be less tense with this
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my masks
hey there buckaroos. due to all of the attention the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION situation has gotten i am going to take a minute to talk about my personal way as an autistic buckaroo. im going to tell you about my masks.
im doing this for a few reasons, some are good FUN reasons full of love and some are not so great.Â
lets start with the GOOD STUFF. first of all, i am talking about this because speaking on my way can help other buckaroo feel more comfortable speaking on there own way, ESPECIALLY if they are good at âpassingâ for neurotypical like chuck is.Â
unfortunately the NOT SO GREAT reasons im talking about all this dang stuff are two fold. reason one: i have been put into a position of having to explain and justify my needs and boundaries by the TXLA. this is not something that i WANT to be taking up all of my time, but when large organizations do not make space for those who they have pledged to support, it puts us smaller buckaroos into position where were have to defend our existence. it is not plesent but it is necessary.
the second NOT SO GREAT reason is that âpassingâ bisexual and autistic people like myself are ALWAYS just seconds from being gatekept from folks both outside and inside these communities. there will probably be a day on chucks deathbed where i take off my mask and say hello to this timeline (mostly so you can all see how handsome i am under here but I DIGRESS). i KNOW with absolute certainty (the same way other bi and autistic buckaroos are probably nodding along right now) that when that day comes i will STILL be accused of ânot being realâ and âfakingâ because i âdont look autisticâ and i have a beautiful ladybuck partner in sweet barbara.
ALL THAT IS TO SAY, i am taking a moment today to talk FOR THE RECORD about my neurodigence and my particular needs. hopefully i will not have to keep diving this deep every time an organization takes a discrimantory action against me, but i will also say this: at least it is a good fight on an important battlefield
anyway buds, here is the story of my way on the spectrum
when i was a young buckaroo i knew that my thought process was different. i could socialize easily, which is unique in contrast to many autistic buds (it is a spectrum after all), but my social ease was for an interesting reason. I ALWAYS KNEW WHAT OTHERS WERE ABOUT TO SAY. it was like a strange âhuman gameâ where someone would say one thing and i would think âwell you actually mean something elseâ in a sort of logical way (this is why i later related to DATA from star trek so dang much). at first i remember thinking âwell i am just NOT going to play along with this human gameâ. i quickly learned neurotypical buckaroos do not like this, that there is a BOB AND WEAVE to social interactions that must be learned.Â
later i realized âactually if i WANT to make friends and prove love is real then i can do this like an expert because i can SEE the game where most cantâ. this got chuck many buds and took me on many adventures. please understand, i am not saying these connections are not important to me, they are just different. they are full of love, but i express this in my own unique way.
HOWEVER, while growing up i felt disconnected from this timeline in other ways, like an alien or a reverse twin trotting along in a world that is not quite my own. i did not feel emotions the same way my buds did. they would get upset over the âhuman gameâ interactions and i would not be moved at all, HOWEVER i could see the way sunlight hit a window and start crying my dang eyes out over the beauty. so my emotion was still there and VERY STRONG, i just felt it in more existential ways (like hearing the call of the lonesome train). these days that feeling has progressed to where i am pretty much in a constant blissed out state of cosmic emotional connection (make of that last sentence what you will, but it is the truth). when i make existential posts online i am not just FIRING OFF SOME CONTENT, i really mean every word. this is really my trot.
anyway as a young buckaroo these feelings made me worry sometimes. i thought about various mental health dianosises and marked the parts and pieces that matched with myself. am i this? am i that? sometimes, instead of just beingâ differentâ i worried i might actually be âwrongâ.Â
when i saw david byrne on letterman in my younger days i immediately recognized something connected to myself. i thought âwow this is the mystery being solved before my very eyes.â i could hear it in the music of talking heads too. i started doing research and realized that i might be on autism spectrum, something that was later confirmed by a therapist (back then the diagnosis was called asperger's). it was a glorious and fulfilling moment. i was SO EXCITED TO BE AUTISTIC LIKE MY HERO. i felt very cool because of it, and i still feel very cool because of it.
one of the big reasons i talk so much about being autistic these days is because i want to make sure OTHER buckaroos can have that same moment that i did. they can see chuck and think âwow i really like this autistic artist, maybe being autistic is coolâ
so what does an average day WITHOUT wearing the pink bag look like for me?
my thought process is exactly like ROSE from CAMP DAMASCUS, which is part of why i wrote the book. we have the same stim (complex order of finger taps), we prepare for social interactions the same way, we analyze things in the same logical trot that neurotypical people might think feels âdetachedâ but for me feels natural (certain reviews of camp damascus are very funny to me in this way. you can tell when a reader is just very confused by existing in an autistic brain for 250 pages.)
from the outside you would not be able to tell that i am on the spectrum. in fact you would probably find me very socially adept.Â
the problem is, all of that masking can take its toll. i spent years trotting in and out the emergency room, talking to confused doctors who could not figure out the chronic phantom tension and pain that radiated through my body. i eventually accepted the fact that i would either live a life constantly on heavy painkillers or just stop living altogether.
eventually, however, i started noticing a correlation between the way that i felt, and the space that i allowed for chuck and the pink mask. i was exercising that tension, allowing my mental mask of neurotypical existence to take a rest. i started practicing physical therapy and this time THE RESULTS STUCK because i was approaching from two sides, MIND AND BODY. after a while, i got my pain down to about 5 percent of what it once was. i still have flare ups in times of stress, but the healing has been very real and life changing.
lets get VERY specific now. if i attended the TXLA confrence without a mask and gave my talk i can tell you this: i would do a dang good job. i can work the heck out of a crowd and (not to reveal too much about my secret way) I HAVE BEEN KNOWN TO DO THIS ON OCCASION VERY WELL. however, going home from this event i would very likely be in pain. i would likely need to do physical therapy. i would likely need to stim for a while. i would NOT be emotionally fullfilled in the same way. in other words, without my pink mask i can charm the heck out of buckaroos, but THE SPACE OF CHUCK TINGLE IS NOT THE SPACE FOR THAT. the pink bag is a place for me to not have to put up with that tension. it is a place for me to unmask mentally by masking physically.
this pink bag space SAVED MY LIFE and i am not going to risk blurring these lines. if and when that ever happens it will be MY decision, not someone elses. that is my boundary. the part of me that neurotypically masks could handle a library conference in a purely technical sense, but the part of me that chuck represents absolutely cannot and should not be asked to do that without the pink bag. unfortunately, the complexity of this point makes it even MORE difficult for me to think about and takes up even more of my time, because it forces me to START QUESTIONING MYSELF and my own needs. to be honest, that is the most insidious part of other people questioning your identify and refusing to accept your accommodation needs without âproofâ.
the thing is, while all of this discussion of disability and accessibility is important, i have a much larger point to make by writing these words.
a conference should not uninvite someone with an unusual physical presentation or a strange way of speaking REGARDLESS of it being classified as a disability. it does not matter WHY i look the way that i look and wear what i wear. i should not have to spend all day writing this post instead of writing my next book, just because my sensibilities are unique and my presentation is unusual.Â
fortunately the solution is very simple: let other people be themselves. its not hurting you to simply accept and nod at the buckaroos you think look strange. let us exist
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"PATHETIC"
SUMMARY: Don't go into Alastor's studio if he's on air. It was that simple. But sometimes you like to be bad. (In which Alastor broadcasts your moans live as a punishment)
GENRE: PWP, Smut, small amount of angst, a lil fluff
WARNINGS: Psychopathic Alastor, sadism, masochism, bratty reader, unprotected sex (don't!), collar, handcuffs, chains, degradation, exhibitionism, implied aftercare, humiliation, finger sucking, dub-con/non-con depending on how you see it, orgasm denial, leash, praise, let me know if there are any more!
PART 2 (aftercare)
NOT PROOF READ (YET)
____
Don't go into Alastor's studio if he's on air, it was that simple.
But you do it anyway. Out of pure bratty desires you defy Alastor because.. why not? What's the worst that could happen? Actually.. there is a lot of 'worst' that could in fact happen but I mean, he's not all bad.. is he?
With a small grin on your face you lay your hand against the door swiftly, knocking loudly to make sure you are alerting Alastor of a visitor. The anxiety you feel when you do this is far too real, from the clammy fingers to the feeling that this whole idea is a horrible mistake. You almost feel as if you could fall to the floor beneath you.
Yet it's so exhilarating.
"I'm afraid I'm busy!" You hear Alastor holler from beyond the door, his slightly fake kind tone obvious. He hates it when people interrupt his work. You almost giggle, feeling an odd nervous giddiness going through yourself at the prospect of opening this door.
With a sharp intake of breath, you swing open the door and close it softly behind yourself. Though behind him you can see Alastor pinch the space between his eyebrows with an annoyed smile.
He turns his head to look over at you, giving you an annoyed smile that makes you bite your lower lip.
"What is it you need, dear?" Alastor asks, adjusting one of the nobs on the recording equipment in front of him. "I am very sure I said I was busy," He sighs, looking over at you again with even more annoyance visible on his face.
"I just wanted to hangout,"
Alastor stands, horns growing with his annoyance as he takes a warning step towards you. You take a meek step back and gulp down a nervous glob of saliva.
"So you come into my studio, interrupting my broadcast-" he turns shifts into his full demon form as he moves towards you, until his face is completely in front of your face. An angry smile on his features. "All because you wanted to hang out?" He pulls you closer by a metal collar of his energy, his nose against your own as his hand clutch tightly onto the chain.
"What a bad pet you are.." He says darkly, pulling you harshly so you choke and fall to the ground on your hands and knees. For a couple moments he just pulls you with the leash, walking you towards the chair until he sits on it. He swivels it around to look at you, your own large and nervous ones looking into his.
He pushes your head up to look straight at him by the toe of his shoe, the coldness making your skin burn. You can't help but lean even closer towards him, so the toe of his show just barely digs into the skin there.
"Fawn, you were just here for my attention, weren't you?"
You consider lying to him, making yourself out to be more of a brat and possibly get a worse outcome than you're already gonna get.. but from the position you're in it's probably a bad idea. So with a sharp gulp and a blush across your cheeks you nod, biting your lower lip. Alastor grins, leaning down and taking his foot from your chin.
His gaze is rather soft, almost adoring as he tugs you closer by your chain leash. Slowly and intimately he pushes his thumb into your mouth, pointing finger making you look into his lidded eyes. With a burst of passion you suck onto his thumb, swirling your tongue against the red claw as he watches with amused eyes.
"My lovely fawn, perhaps you just need to be reminded who owns you," He purrs, pulling his thumb from your mouth (much to your dismay). With a sharp motion Alastor tangles his fingers into your hair, manhandling you face first into his desk so your ass faces him. You cry out at this movement, the roughness of his movements contrasting wildly to the care he gave you just moments before.
"Lovely. I'm afraid this punishment is not going to be pleasant, but you must learn from your mistakes," Alastor sighs, and with a swift motion of his hands bounding your wrists with cuffs of his magic. He keeps them bound onto the table so you are unable to move, causing a pain to go through your wrists when you flinch at Alastor's movements. Roughly, he pulls down your skirt and discards it across the room, leaving you bare besides from your thin pink panties.
"What a pretty color, they must be a favorite pair of yours.." you blush, trying to tilt your head to see him behind you; only for the collar to keep you from doing so. You feel his claws drag up the sides of your thighs until they meet the fabric of your panties, clawing rather dangerously at it.
"Yeah, i-i wore them for you.." You whimper with a stutter, wiggling your but at him to appear enticing. He chuckles, hooking his pointer fingers into your panties at each side.
"How lovely,"
With a harsh pull, he rips either side of your panties in half. You gasp at this, trying to stand up only for the cuffs around your hands and the collar around your neck to tighten. This causes you to bruise and cry out in pain.
"Alastor! I liked that pair.." You complain, kicking your legs in a sort of tantrum that Alastor tuts. With a sudden thrash Alastor aggressively pulls at your chain leash, making your head move up with a strain that is horribly painful.
"Bad fawns don't get treated with propriety, my dear," Alastor explains, twisting his hand so the chain slowly wraps around his hand. You can see his shadow loom closer and closer over your own figure.
"And bad fawns especially don't get any foreplay.."
What? No foreplay? He can't be serious..
Let's just say.. Alastor is rather large in the nether regions. And he knows this. Every single time you've ever fornicated he'd always done foreplay- just to open you up enough that you wouldn't be in horrid paid every time he stuck his cock in you. You can already feel the pain inside of you and he hasn't even pushed his tip to you.
"Alastor, no- I can't.."
"Don't forget my fawn.." He hooks his fingers into your hair again, forcing you to tilt your head as he whispers into your ear. His horns are larger than earlier, and his entire build in general is a lot more.. demonic.
"You wanted this.."
You don't want this anymore.
Tantalizing slow, Alastor drags his claws up your spine, taking in every shiver and whimper that you give him in turn. How dominating he feels, it's like nothing else to him he can tear as many people's souls to shreds but nothing will be the same as fucking you to pliancy. He can do horrid things to you, and you still come back for more.
He loves that in you, in his own way.
You feel his tip just barely twitch against your entrance, one hand holding your chain and his staff whilst the other presses harshly against your thigh. Wait. Why is he holding his staff.. that doesn't make any sense unless-
Fuck. He can't be serious, can he?
"Salutations dear listeners, ever so sorry for my break. But I have a treat just for you!" He says, his voice strong with the confidence of a person who has done this millions of times before. Shivering you let out a small whimper, he's really going to do this, isn't he? He's going to fuck you on air. You want to disappear. This is humiliating! This is.. humiliating. He can't be serious! You though he was better than this..
Shows you to think more of the radio demon.
In a swift movement you scream out, Alastor's entire length being shoved into you with a single thrust. You see stars of red, the area around you glowing a green that makes your head just slightly throb in pain. With another harsh thrust Alastor pulls in your leash, forcing you to look out the window.
He leans down and growls condescendingly.
"Watch the entirety of the pride ring as they hear me break you," he says and you cry out. He is. He is breaking you from the inside out, you can feel every thrust of his cock through your entire body with a painful wave. You can hardly see anymore. Everything is blurred with a wall of tears that fall down your cheeks.
"Fuck!" You cry in a distressful pleasure. You hate that this feels good. Why do you want him to break you? Why do you want him to fuck you from the inside out until all you can do is sit there and listen to him speak. You hate that you love this.
"That's it, little fawn. Let me break your whorish body.." He laughs, the hold on your chain leash making you lose a very small amount of air. You try to clutch at something, anything to ground you, but all you can feel is the warm chains bounding you to the desk beneath you, the chains bounding you to this terrible pleasure.
You can't describe it. Every thrust of his cock makes you moan, in an ashamed yet purely entangled tone. You can hear the passion in your voice as Alastor digs his claws so hard into you you bleed. Yet you can definitely hear the pain in your voice when the tip of his cock just barely hits your cervix.
"Such a pathetic thing, letting me take you like this.. you didn't even put up a fight,"
You see red, a weird loving anger.
"I fucking HATE you.."
Alastor laughs, and you can practically smell that shit-eating grin on his face.
"No," he thrusts "You," he thrusts "Dont~" he thrusts, punctuating his words and his teasing tone. You claw at the chains, wishing to rip their bounds so you can spit in his stupid beautiful face. Fuck. You can't stop this pleasure.
With every thrust comes another build of an orgasm inside of you, every thrust making that knot pull tighter and tighter. He isn't even doing anything to pleasure you, either- you just love this in a way you can't describe.
"Don't orgasm without my permission, dear," Alastor cackles, biting his lower lip "Or else..!" He teases, giving you a particularly harsh thrust as to solidify his words. You nod softly with a whimper, your neck aching from the way he's handling your leash.
You clench particularly hard, feeling that orgasm begging to be released.
"Alastor! Please let me cum.." You whimper, biting your lower lip as it trembles very slightly. He hums for a moment, as if to mock your display of obedience before clicking his tongue and leaning down.
"Beg for it," he says simply, thrusting even quicker making the urgency inside of you real. Crying, you babble for a moment, the pleasure inside of you becoming to much.
"Fuck! Please let me cum, I'll do anything, I'll listen to everything you say, please! Please..." You don't think you've felt more desperate your whole entire time in hell, which is even more pathetic, really. The most desperate you've felt isn't for your life, money, or soul. It's to come on the cock of a psychopathic sadist.
"Lovely. Come for me, my dear,"
You let go with an obnoxious wail, walls clenching around Alastor so tightly you could have sworn he grunted. It's like your whole body let go, your legs give out, your shoulders relax, and your eyes roll back.
"Good fawn, how good,"
With one last thrust, Alastor buries his cock deeply inside of you, emptying his seed to the point where your stomach begins to bloat. One thing you've learnt about Alastor, when he cums, he cums a lot.
"Now then," Alastor declares after a short moment, pulling his cock from your hole and stuffing it back into his pants. "Let's get you cleaned up!" Alastor says brightly, clicking his fingers so the bounds on your neck and hands release. Though this only makes your centre of gravity shift in such a way you almost fall to the ground, if it weren't for Alastor catching you and holding you bridal style. Holding you. This is a rare occurrence indeed.
"Thank you dear listeners and I'll see you next time! Perhaps you may even get another treat, Ha ha!"
Alastor turns back to you, looking at you deep in the eyes as his sclera turn a deep black.
"Will they, my dear..?"
You gulp, shrinking in his arms.
"No, Alastor,"
He turns back to normal, giving you an adoring look as he twirls on his foot, taking you from the room.
"Lovely, now let's get a bath running!"
#proship#senseichaos#antishippers dni#senseichaosdrabbles#proship fanfiction#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel smut#alastor x reader smut#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader fluff#alastor oneshot#alastor#alastor x reader angst
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part time lover; jjk
âł pairing: investigative journalist!jeongguk x daycare teacher!reader. alternatively, spy!jeongguk x assassin!reader
âł genre: smut, fluff, angst, fake marriage au, dad au, spy x family au
âľÂ word count: 30.8k
âł summary: there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nationâs most prestigious private school.
only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one anotherâs minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time.Â
âł warnings: themes of parenthood, raising a child, reader and jk were both orphans, reader has a past where she struggled with financially supporting her family, eldest daughter trauma, reader is insecure, fears of abandonment, mentions of violence and m*rder (but not explicit), mention of weapons (guns, knives, grenades, poison), jk has a bruise from boxing, descriptions of an explosion, blood is drawn twice (via kitchen knife and shrapnel from aforementioned explosion), (1) mention of weight loss, jk changes his appearance in an attempt to fit in, mention of a minor car crash, social drinking, scars (surgical/knife, bullet wounds), characters are liars for the sake of the plot, side characters are misogynists (satire), food descriptions, pet names (hers: angel, good girl, princess his: love).Â
âł a/n: thank you for being so patient with me as i toiled through this fic. it wasn't an easy one! but i do think it's special because of how healing the journey was for me <3 please enjoy, let me know what you think. don't forget to check out the other fics from the "industry baby" collab hosted by the ever so lovely @jeonjcngkook and @mercurygguk !
âł smut warnings: virgin reader, sexual tension, body worship, nipple play, marking, oral (f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, unprotected sex, jk has a big dick, praising, stomach bulge, spitting, use of the word slut, marriage kink(?) he loves his wife so much, reader wants to be bred, cumshot
Jeongguk, 26 Investigative journalist at Golden News Network Less than a mile away To whom it may concern, I am a single father looking for a wife (DM me for serious inquiries only).Â
âYour profile is dog shit,â Seokjin deadpans. The cringe settles into the downward turn of his lips as he swipes through his best friendâs Tinder account. âYouâd be bitchless if you werenât hot.âÂ
âJin, watch your mouth.â Jeongguk shoots a deadly glare toward the older man. âThere are children around.âÂ
From the kitchen, Jeongguk cranes his neck to take a peek into the messy living room where his adopted daughter sits, criss-crossed, in front of the television. Minji is too distracted by her weekly cartoon updates to even notice the crude language.Â
âMinny, donât sit too close to the TV,â he sends his daughter a stern yet gentle reminder. âYour eyeballs are gonna fall out of your head if you do.âÂ
A frown etches itself onto Minjiâs face as she scooches back on her knees.Â
Jeongguk returns his attention to the dinner heâs preparing tonight. A pot of homemade tomato sauce simmers on the stovetop.Â
In the back of his mind, he wonders if his dating profile is as terribly unappealing as Seokjin says it is. Otherwise he wouldnât have so many notifications, right? ăź Messages from girls, asking if he could be their daddy too. Jeonggukâs bio is short and straight to the point. Heâs not that ugly, or so he thinks. Being a journalist is a respectable occupation with steady income. So what could be so bad about it?Â
Is it the fact that Jeongguk isnât even his real name ăź nothing but a fake persona to help him with his investigation? Maybe itâs because his adopted daughter doesnât have a striking resemblance to him, and his pictures look like a shady scam.Â
But thereâs no way that they can see through Jeonggukâs facade. After all, heâs the best spy in the agency. His specialty is deceit. Itâs foolproof. Thereâs no reason not to believe him.Â
âI think theyâre really into the whole dad thing,â Jeongguk nods, focusing on the sliced onions in front of him. The smell of garlic and fresh herbs permeate through the air.
âReally?â Seokjin says in feigned disbelief. He leans back against the couch, making himself comfortable. âItâs not because of the video where youâre deepthroating a deep dish pizza? Just for that, I would have gotten on my hands and knees to suck your di-.âÂ
âCan you seriously watch your language?â Jeongguk cuts him off before pointing a knife in his direction.Â
Kim Seokjin may be his closest colleague, but thatâs exactly where he draws the line. Seokjin is nothing more than Jeonggukâs informant. His job is to get the latest intel on all of his targets, and thatâs it. Heâs not here to fool around or make friends.
âWe took that video in Chicago. Doesnât it show that Iâm well traveled?â Jeongguk asks with genuine curiosity. He remembers reading an article about how women love that sort of stuff.Â
Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. âItâs gonna be a long, long night,â he mutters to himself. His best friend is beyond the point of fixing, but at least he makes a good househusband.Â
Jeongguk wipes his hands against his frilly apron before dipping a wooden spoon into the pot. He inches the tomato sauce closer to his pursed lips as he blows on the piping hot confection. It could use more parsley.Â
Just when Jeongguk thought he could distract himself with cooking, he suddenly remembers the pressing problem that occupies all of his brain space: he is in desperate need of a wife. The constant reminder is taped to the front of the fridge ä¸ a letter from Minjiâs prospective elementary school.Â
Dear Jeon family, Congratulations! Your childâs preliminary results indicate that he/she has passed the entrance exam at Hwa Yang Academy. Our institution carries a prestigious reputation, accepting only the nationâs brightest students. Due to your childâs outstanding academic score, we invite you to the second phase of admissions where a family interview will be conducted. Please have both parents and child present at Yeon Hwa Hall on the first of May, promptly at 10am. It is our good fortune that you chose to apply to Hwa Yang Academy. We look forward to welcoming you and your family to our renowned institution. Sincerely, Department of Admissions at Hwa Yang Academy
The fact that Minji received an interview at the top school in the nation is amazing beyond belief. Everything is going according to plan. The only problem is that Jeon Jeongguk is, in fact, bitchless.Â
âRemind me again, why do you need to get Minji into that school?â Seokjin furrows his brows. Heâs never seen his best friend this stressed. The way that Jeongguk is willing to jump through hoops makes him feel as if heâs never wanted anything so bad in his life.Â
Jeongguk clenches the wooden spoon in his hand, threatening to give himself a splinter. âI have to get access to Hwa Yang,â he says, like itâs do or die. âThere are families with infinite amounts of political power there, including the prime minister. The big boss suspects that theyâre planning a rebellion, and I need to get close to them to expose their secrets. Obviously I canât even touch the elite without pretending to be one myself. So I need this family to be as perfect as it can be.âÂ
âYou think you can prevent a whole rebellion and save the country if you go to a few parent association meetings? Bake a batch of cookies like a soccer mom?â Seokjinâs questions are sarcastic, but heâs not wrong. He needs to infiltrate the prime ministerâs inner circle, befriend him, and uncover his government secrets. But doing so would be impossible without first securing a wife and earning acceptance into the school.Â
âIf it comes down to making a paper mache volcano, Iâll do it.â The determination in Jeonggukâs eyes is unwavering.Â
âYou really expect to get through the admission interview with a fake wife? I canât even get a single date, but you think you can get married by the end of the month?â Seokjin laughs at the expense of his own heartache.Â
âMaybe the mommies would like you more if you werenât so de-looshe-in-ull,â Minji chimes.Â
Has she been listening all along?
âDelusional?â Seokjin scoffs, fueled with exasperation. Lately, heâs had thoughts about being a kinder person, yet a part of him still believes that he deserves the last word in every conversation. âWhere did you learn about that?â he queries, balling up his hands.Â
âAppa,â Minji replies, pointing at the man in question.Â
Seokjin winds his fist back as if heâs throwing a punch across the room, but he listens to the screaming voice in the back of his head. The one that tells him heâs much too pretty to get pummeled today ăź that his face would look better if Jeonggukâs fist wasnât imprinted on the surface of it. So instead of starting a fight with a five year old girl, Seokjin folds his knees against his chest, cursing under his breath. Maybe he can be the bigger person.Â
âSo why canât the agency send another spy operative to play house with you?â Seokjin asks, resorting to a life of civility under Jeonggukâs roof. He forces a smile through gritted teeth and returns his attention to the dating app in the palm of his hands, half-listening to his best friend.Â
âWell, a bunch of police officers arrested our agents. Thereâs only a few people left on the team. Havenât you seen the news? The government is cracking down on espionage.â Jeongguk rolls his eyes, clenching his jaw. âThey use women as their scapegoat, filling up some stupid quota for incarceration.â How can men be so ignorant and simple minded? Â
Ironically, Seokjin flashes his phone in front of Jeonggukâs face. âSwipe left or right, what do you think?â Yep, the minds of men are pretty simple, and Seokjin definitely didnât hear a single word that came out of Jeonggukâs mouth.Â
Y/N Daycare teacher at childrenâs municipal library 1 mile away Critics review: âââââ âLoves her emotional support characters, and will only ever love her emotional support charactersâ âCanât cook to save her life, but she can top off your ramen with a fried eggâ âPros: loving and down to earth, great with kids. Cons: doesnât know her own strength, hates mushrooms, has a quirky laughâÂ
âYou know what? Iâll swipe right. Youâll get more matches if you do,â Seokjin suggests with a determined nod.Â
Jeongguk stares at his informant in disbelief, jaw slack. Thereâs no way this stupid app is going to land him a wife by the end of the month.Â
âWhat do you think about this guy?âÂ
âHard pass. I mean, look at his photos. His whole personality is about working out.âÂ
âOkay, then what about this one?âÂ
âNah, he looks too stuck-up. I donât think he can take a joke.âÂ
âHow about her? Sheâs pretty, right?âÂ
âShe doesnât even have a bio! What if sheâs a catfish?âÂ
From the way your coworkers appraise these people, they act as if theyâre the ones looking for a partner. Because as a matter of fact, itâs your phone in their hand, swiping away on your dating app.Â
It doesnât matter if there are library books that need to be stowed away or paperwork to be filed. They pay no mind to the clock indicating that thereâs 30 minutes left in the work day because finding you a significant other seems to be their only priority.Â
âSujin, stop being so picky. At this rate, y/n isnât going to get a date if you swipe left on everyone,â Yumi whines.Â
âWhy did you make a profile for me anyways? I donât need to be in a relationship.â The sound of your widely unpopular opinion makes the two girls look up with big, round eyes.Â
âArenât you ever lonely?â Thereâs a hint of pity that lingers in Yumiâs voice.Â
You find it quite offensive that she would think that. As much as youâd like to keep your job, you would also like to rip the rug out from beneath Yumiâs feet until she falls flat on her face. But the reality is, you really need this job. So all you do is shake your head and grit your teeth. âNo, not really.âÂ
âLife is soo much more romantic when you have someone to love.â Sujinâs unblinking eyes make you wonder if sheâs being held hostage against her will. Is her boyfriend tapping into her phone, listening to all of her conversations?Â
ây/n, youâve never been in a relationship before. Do you ever feel like youâre missing out on something?â Thereâs a pout that rests on Yumiâs lips. Her tone leaks with faux sympathy. âHobi just got married, and Nariâs having a baby. Weâre all grown up, and I donât want you to feel left out, especially at my engagement party next weekend. It might bring out some⌠bitter feelings.âÂ
You resist the urge to roll your eyes, reminding yourself that you should definitely not push Yumi down the stairs at the end of your shift. âI think Iâll be content on my own.âÂ
âHere, look through the app for a little while. Maybe youâll find someone that you like. Just give it a chance, okay?â Sujin hands the phone back to you. âYou should really think about it. San tells me heâs been worried about you.â
Your expression falls upon hearing your younger brotherâs name. Of all people, San should know that you value nothing more than your independence.Â
âHe just wants you to be happy ăź for someone to take care of you.âÂ
Some part of you believes that Sujin is projecting her opinions and throwing your brother under the bus. âI donât need anyone to take care of me,â you assure her. âI can be happy on my own.âÂ
Nowadays, many people come to believe that a wedding ring is the solution to everyoneâs misfortune. Supposedly, itâll keep you safe from all things cruel in this world. They donât seem to realize that there are problems that run much deeper than being single. Itâs as if something must be inherently wrong with you if youâve never had a partner, let alone a first kiss.Â
You have to admit that sometimes, their words can hurt like knives. Itâs damaging to your self-esteem if you really think about it. Because surely, everyone wants to be loved and to be desired ăź to be chosen. How nice would it be to lie in bed, held and comforted by something other than the warmth of your own body?
If you were to have a relationship, perhaps you could go to bookstores together and read for hours on end. The two of you could laugh and sing at the top of your lungs, dancing like fools in the dim light of the bathroom with toothbrushes tucked between molars. You could listen to ballads on the radio and finally resonate with the lyrics, plastering a goofy, lovestruck smile on your face. If you were in love, you could share childhood memories, and even the mundane details would be tucked away for safekeeping. Youâd know one another's biggest fears and greatest vulnerabilities. Even when you reveal the ugliest parts of yourself, they would choose you over and over again.Â
If there was just one person to run their fingers across all of your curves, your dips, your scars, only to tell you that you are still the object of their affection, then perhaps you would give love a chance.
But having thought about love your entire life, and never yet to experience it, youâre certain that youâre better off on your own. Ever since you were a little kid, itâs always been you, yourself, and your grief. Youâve harbored yourself in your own bones for decades, so who knows you better than you know yourself ăź truly and completely unfiltered? With your mind and wit so sharp, who will find you lovable when they discover thereâs a blade where your heart is?Â
If you were to find a partner, there is simply no way that you can continue the life that you have. You could never return to them at the end of the night, bloodied and bruised, with no questions asked. Surely, itâs not an easy pill to swallow when you tell them that you're an assassin. Thereâs no sugar coating that.Â
Much like being a daycare teacher, being an assassin is just another job. You started living this secret identity because it earned enough money to take care of your younger brother after your parents had passed away. It put food on the table and cash toward your bills. Money would roll into your bank account by the thousands. At 18 years old, that type of money was unfathomable. But now that San is old enough to take care of himself, thereâs really no need to continue this lifestyle.Â
Yet you pursue the chase because thereâs a certain thrill that comes from seeking justice and vigilance. These monsters no longer hide beneath your brotherâs bed. Instead, they lurk between the shadows ăź among the alleyways and abandoned parts of town. They prey on those who are weak and exploit them for all that they are.Â
If the law enforcement team is never going to uphold their end of the social contract, you have to be the one to act first and eliminate them. So with every job completed, you can be certain that the world is safer one hit at a time.Â
But to continue being an assassin, you have to keep this secret under wraps. Youâll be forced to hide under a life of normalcy, as nothing more than a naive and innocent daycare teacher at the local library ăź a background character in the story of others. In all honesty, you prefer to keep your secrets tucked away. Because to be loved is to be known, and you simply cannot let that happen.Â
Some people arenât made for romance, and maybe youâre one of them. Nobody shall ever hold your heart in their hands without pricking their own flesh.Â
Despite all that is said and done, some part of you thinks that thereâs no harm in checking out the unpromising dating app. Curiosity gets the best of you as you mindlessly swipe through all of the profiles. However, everyone youâve come across is either too shallow, too arrogant, or too boring.Â
A defeated sigh slips past your lips until you come across a certain profile. You look closer at the photos, inspecting each one with great care. There are only so many pictures: one of him and his dog, a second one of him shoving a Chicago deep dish down his throat, and another with a young child. Tattoos litter across his sun-kissed skin, and piercings scatter his handsome face ăź beautiful in the most unorthodox ways.
His bio reads: âTo whom it may concern, I am a single father looking for a wife (DM me for serious inquiries only).âÂ
Have you seen this man before? Could it be⌠him?Â
The longer that you stare at his profile, the more concerned you become. At this rate, youâve created an entire fantasy about a relationship with this stranger, and now youâre planning the dinner menu for your wedding. But thereâs no way that youâd actually consider swiping right and messaging him, right? You donât even want a boyfriend! This man could be joking for all you know.Â
When the clock strikes the hour, a chime resounds through the air. You shake your head, finally coming to your senses. You slip your device into your pocket, forgetting about the man who lives in your phone.Â
Jeongguk. His name is Jeongguk.Â
âAppaaa!â Thereâs a piercing cry that slices through the air as the little girl begs for her fatherâs affection. From behind the bookshelves, the curious librarian pokes her head between the gaps to catch a glimpse of the commotion.Â
âDonât let go, please, please, pleeease!â The young child slips her tiny hand into her fatherâs, shaking it back and forth with a sense of urgency.Â
Jeongguk stands frozen in place. The apples of his cheeks darken into a rosy hue. Itâs a little embarrassing to be that parent ăź the one who canât control his childâs outbursts in the middle of a public space, let alone a library, an academic sanctuary that promises peace and quiet.Â
With a heavy, exhausted sigh, Jeongguk crouches down to meet his daughterâs innocent expression. âMinny, I promise you, Iâm not going anywhere. I ask that you give me ten minutes, okay?â His voice is firm and assertive. Itâs a little rough around the edges, but it canât be helped. He speaks in a way that commands attention from the room. This is the only way he knows how to demand respect from his subordinates.Â
âI just need to pick up a few things. We can go home afterwards, so be a good girl until then,â Jeongguk bargains. âYou can go to the playroom, and the nice librarian will take care of you.âÂ
Minji squeezes her tiny hands into fists, and she dies on the inside. Tears form in the corner of her eyes. Even the slightest change in her fatherâs tone makes her believe that sheâs done something wrong. Her worst nightmare flashes before her eyes.Â
Would her father abandon if she were to misbehave? Or worse, would he dare to return her to the orphanage she was adopted from? What if her biggest fear comes to fruition? After all, itâs not uncommon for parents to realize far too late that kids are too difficult to handle. Then, theyâre left hoping and praying for some kind of return policy for their own flesh and blood.Â
Minjiâs eyes become glossy at the thought of it, unlocking a hidden memory from the past, but she refuses to let herself falter underneath his piercing stare. Yet no matter how hard she tries to keep the tears at bay, her emotions get the best of her, and her resolve crumbles into smithereens. After all, sheâs only five years old.Â
It appears that the authoritative approach only works in the combat room, but perhaps not with a five year old girl. So Jeongguk lowers his defenses and drops to his knees. He wipes the tears away with the pad of his thumb, and she sniffles even harder when he comforts her.Â
Thereâs something about the little girlâs demeanor that reminds Jeongguk of himself when he was younger. Perhaps itâs the need for her fatherâs approval ăź the desire to please and put others above herself. Maybe itâs her tenacity for standing tall and strong despite the dull ache in her tender heart.Â
âYou can let it all out,â he reaffirms. A beat of silence passes by while he caresses her cheek, allowing the tears to fall. âYou âkay now?âÂ
Minji reluctantly agrees with the slow nod of her head, but she avoids her fatherâs strong gaze, staring down at her shoes, sullen. When the warmth of her fatherâs hand disappears, another sniffle racks through her body.Â
Normally, Minji is never one to throw a tantrum, but what does Jeongguk know? Just when he thought he had a hang of the whole âparentingâ thing, heâs thrown into a loop. In spite of Jeonggukâs confident demeanor, he genuinely doesnât know the first thing about raising a child, let alone a daughter.Â
In his past ten years of being an undercover spy, he has diffused nuclear bombs and hacked into government files, but nothing has ever prepared him for being a single parent. Yet as a man and a father, he needs to do better. He needs to be better. The least he can do is try.
Jeongguk raises a hand between their bodies, extending his pinky for her to interlock, pledging his vow. âIâll be back for you in ten minutes, I swear.â He reassures his daughter before planting a kiss on the crown of her head. He crosses his fingers, silently praying that she wonât cry again.Â
A dribble of snot falls from Minjiâs nose. Her eyelashes are soaked. A dramatic hiccup heaves through her tiny, five-year old body.Â
Jeongguk can feel the venomous judgment of everyone around him. They must think that heâs utterly unfit to be a father, and they would be right.Â
They would wonder: What kind of child causes a scene in public, screaming, crying, and begging her father not to abandon her? How can he send her to the playroom where thereâs nothing but disgusting germs and snotty kids? Is he seriously going to hand off his responsibilities to a total stranger in an underfunded public institution?Â
They can easily write Jeongguk off as a villain ăź a big, scary man with piercings and tattoos. They could hurl accusations at him with no regard as to where they land. All it takes is a quick glance and a first impression (a false one at that). Obviously, they would think heâs someone whoâs not built for child rearing because of the slits in his eyebrows and the gel in his hair. There must not be a gentle bone that resides in his big, burly body, but for that, they would be wrong.
The worst part about this whole âfatherâ situation is not necessarily the judgment of others. He is familiar with scrutiny, and he knows it all too well. Rather, itâs that Jeongguk was never particularly fond of having children of his own. Some people are not cut out for fatherhood, and thatâs simply the truth of the matter. But that doesnât mean he won't do his best. He canât let Minji down. He wonât.Â
As if Minji could read his thoughts, she raises her arms, begging to be picked up. Her sniffles have long died down.Â
Jeongguk takes a deep breath before caving into her wishes and hooking an arm around her knees. Minjiâs grimy, little hands cling around his neck, and an inaudible, celebratory noise escapes from her lips.Â
Minji nuzzles her head beneath her fatherâs chin. She chatters about the incomprehensible things that only five year olds would understand. She is an enigma beyond her fatherâs own understanding, but he is determined to learn the ins and outs of this child no matter what it takes, even if it kills him.Â
After Jeongguk had finally dropped Minji off at the libraryâs playroom, he peruses the non-fiction shelves in search of answers.Â
How the hell is he going to raise a child?Â
He thumbs through all of the top-rated parenting books available, skimming through the blurbs, trying to absorb enough information to pass judgment on them. Because if heâs going to follow parenting advice from someone else, they better be successful in their trials. Jeongguk doesnât want to be the one to fuck up his own childâs brain chemistry.
Thereâs a sudden tap on his shoulder that helps Jeongguk to escape from the existential dread of fatherhood.
âExcuse me, sir.â A soft voice sounds from behind him. Your breath catches onto the nape of his neck. Â
âHow did this woman sneak up on me without me noticing? Maybe Iâm losing my touch.â Jeongguk wonders, shocked by his carelessness. Because from behind, he didnât hear the fall of a single footstep. The air was still and undisturbed until he felt your presence a moment too late. Normally, he would have surveilled everyone within a mile radius before they could even think about approaching him. But you managed to do it so effortlessly. Heâs never met a woman so stealthy.Â
âI think this belongs to you.â Your voice interrupts his stream of consciousness.Â
The man before you turns around, and surely, he is a sight for sore eyes ä¸ a little intimidating to say the least. Thereâs a silver ring that protrudes from his bottom lip, contrasting against the subtle pink. Even more metal resides against the surface of his skin, a piercing on either side of his eyebrow. Thereâs a scar that sits on his cheekbone, and you canât help but wonder how it got there.Â
Youâve only ever admired this stranger from afar. Most days, he never fails to browse the childrenâs manhwa section with a talkative child latched onto his leg. Up close, he looks like a tough guy, but the moment he sees his adorable daughter clinging onto your dress, the hard look in his eyes softens. A dimple carves itself into the curve of his cheek.Â
âWho do we have here?â His typical inflection changes into something slightly more playful. But he uses it to mask his exhausted state.
âAppa, appa! Miss y/l/n is so pretty, donât you think?â Minji says enthusiastically.Â
A flame ignites beneath the surface of Jeonggukâs skin. He grows flustered under the little girlâs stare.
Your eyes widen. Youâve never been considered âprettyâ by conventional standards. Itâs not often that you hear those words, if ever, really.Â
âMinji, everyone has their own opinions, but you shouldnât push your beliefs onto someone else,â you begin as a form of damage control. âIâm so sorry, but she ran up to me, saying she lost her father. She seemed so distressed, and I thought she was going to burst into tears if she couldnât find you.âÂ
Jeon Jeongguk has never known peace before. Minji is just as sneaky and conniving as her father; sheâs a filthy liar just like him.Â
âNo, no, itâs okay, donât apologize. Her attachment issues have grown by the day,â Jeongguk replies, shaking his head. He wears a bashful smile, cheeks tinged with pink. âMinny, do you remember what I taught you?â He crouches down to pick his daughter up by the waist, squeezing her sides.Â
âDonât sleep with wet hair otherwise I might get hippo-pot-a-therm-ia?â Minji recalls, butchering the pronunciation.Â
Jeongguk bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. âNo, the other thing.âÂ
âMinny doesnât have to eat anything that she doesnât want to?âÂ
âI never said that.â A look of disapproval crosses her fatherâs features.Â
âDrawing mustaches on sleepy people is wrong unless itâs Seokjin samchon?âÂ
He scrunches his nose, nodding his head from side to side as though heâs contemplating. âWell⌠yes, but no. Try again. The thing about beauty.âÂ
âOh! Beauty is something that comes from the inside!â Minjiâs eyes light up upon recognition.
âExactly, it comes from inside.â Jeongguk reminds her. He presses his pointer finger against Minjiâs sternum for emphasis. Upon his touch, a sweet giggle falls from her lips.Â
âBut you do think itâs true, donât you?â Minji asks once again, persistent. âMiss y/l/n is really pretty.âÂ
The blush on his cheeks grow a shade darker. âMinny, of course I think sheâs pretty. I thought we talked about this.â Although he lowers his voice like itâs a secret, you can still hear every single word.Â
Minji giggles to herself, hiding her face behind her hands.Â
Jeongguk has always known your face, but never your name. âMiss y/l/n, right?âÂ
It sounds odd to hear your title from a grown man, but you laugh it off with a chuckle. âYeah, thatâs what the kids at the daycare call me. Itâs just y/n though.âÂ
Jeongguk readjusts his daughter in his arms before reaching for a handshake. âIâm just Jeongguk.â It doesnât strike how little his name means to him. Of course itâs just an alias for the sake of the mission. He picked it on a whim, but it suits him more than he had thought. Jeon Jeongguk, pillar of the nation. The lie tumbles out of his lips so naturally, and he doesn't have to think twice.Â
His eyes lower into crescent moons as the corner of his lips curve into a smile, something akin to fondness. A shallow dimple finds its way onto his cheeks.Â
Dammit. Heâs cute.Â
You reach forward, cupping your hand around his in a reverent greeting. He holds you gently as if thereâs a butterfly that had landed on the tip of his fingers. It contrasts against your strong grip.Â
Observant as ever, Jeongguk notices that thereâs no sign of a ring on your hand. He digs through the arsenal of intel thatâs locked up inside his brain. Thanks to Seokjinâs sticky fingers, he managed to spend an entire weekend studying the most recent census information, getting to know the profiles of everyone in the city (just in case). There has to be some information about you stored in his head.Â
ây/n⌠Where did I see that name before?â He thinks to himself, mentally sifting through all the files heâs read. âAh, I remember now. File #901: y/l/n, y/n. Never married, never divorced. Orphaned at the age of eighteen. She has one younger brother. Both of them have clean records ăź never been in trouble with the police, never even received a speeding ticket.â
âJeonggukâŚâ you murmur his name as if youâre testing the waters. âI know. Iâve seen you around before.âÂ
Minji might have accidentally let it slip that heâs the man who's been her appa âfor a very long time.â She never seemed to mention that sheâs adopted. Instead, she continues to describe her father as someone super handsome and very single.Â
âReally?â Although heâs noticed you plenty of times before, heâs surprised that you recognize him. Jeongguk doesnât like drawing attention. He supposes that lately, itâs been difficult when his daughter attracts a lot of eyes.Â
âMost of the time, you wander through the aisles, half-dead like a zombie, with a cup of coffee in your hand.â You lean forward, speaking in a hushed tone. âYou really arenât allowed to bring drinks into the library, but my coworkers let it slide because they think youâre handsome.âÂ
Perhaps youâve overshared because Jeongguk stares at you blankly, taken aback by the news.Â
âHereâs another secret.â You beckon him closer once again, speaking barely above a whisper. âYou should be careful about reading parenting books. Youâll end up stressed about what to do if it doesnât work, and youâll feel like a failure by the end of it.â
His eyes widen in surprise. He had hoped that the parenting books would put an end to his sleepless nights. âWhat do you think I should do then? I donât know how to deal with this monster right here.â He ruffles Minjiâs hair in endearment.Â
âHey!â Minji shouts in defense of herself.
âThatâs not to say you shouldnât read any parenting books. Itâs just trial and error,â you shrug. âAs much as you donât want to hear it, thereâs really no right answer.â
Jeongguk drops his shoulders, slightly disappointed. The defeated look on his face is a feeling you can sympathize with.Â
âBut if it helps, I think itâs important that children need a little bit of softness every now and then, especially because the world is so cruel.â You flash him a gentle smile, urging him to lighten up on his daughter. He needs to stop pretending that raising a child is anything like the military or the spy academy.Â
Upon hearing your conversation, thereâs a mischievous sparkle that appears in Minjiâs eyes. âMiss y/l/n, do you wanna be my eomma?âÂ
You stare blankly at her, blinking as though you are processing her question. The words die on your tongue, yet you cock your head to the side, meeting the little girlâs gaze. âY- your eomma?â you reiterate, startled.Â
âPleaseee? Iâm so lonely with no eomma,â Minji pouts, melodramatic as ever. She puts her hand on her forehead as if sheâs feigning an illness.Â
âJeongguk, do you happen to be looking for a wife?âÂ
âIs this your way of asking me out?â He leans forward, inclined to hear your proposal.Â
You wonder if this is a bad time to mention his Tinder profile. It could be a little awkward knowing that youâve also made an account on that wretched app. Thereâs nothing inherently embarrassing about wanting to find love through modern dating, but why is it so hard to admit it?
You weigh your options in your head, but Jeongguk beats you to it.Â
âBecause if you did ä¸ yaâ know ä¸ ask me out, I would have said-â His words are cut short.Â
âYou know what? Iâm sorry if I was being too forward-â Mentally, you want to smack yourself on the head.
Jeongguk didnât mention anything about a girlfriend, let alone a wife. He has no idea that youâve seen his Tinder before. You never even swiped. You never matched.Â
After you found his profile, you tucked your phone away and refused to open the app again. The blissful state of not knowing is better than playing the waiting game. Will he swipe, will he not? Will he message you and jumpstart some epic romance?Â
You decide to tell him the truth and swallow your pride before coming across as a complete weirdo wrapped up in her delusions.Â
âItâs just that⌠the other day, my friends made a dating profile for me because theyâre worried Iâll be single for the rest of my life. I came across your account, and I thought you looked familiar. So I just wanted to know if youâre actually looking for a wife because I swear, Iâll do it.âÂ
Jeongguk has never been this close to making a breakthrough, and he thinks heâs half in love with you. âAre you being serious?â he wonders as a precaution. âDonât lie to me because I really need this to be a dream come true right now.âÂ
His daughter reaches forward to pinch his cheeks. Jeongguk winces at the pain, and heâs certain that this moment is real.Â
âDo you want me to get down on one knee?â Your face is devoid of any banter, eyes fixed on Jeongguk as if youâre genuinely offering yourself to him. âWhy do you need a wife? Tax money? Green card? Ex who wonât leave you alone?âÂ
âItâs complicated,â Jeongguk begins.Â
âTrust me, I know it's complicated when I see it.â Thereâs a challenging look in your eyes, urging him to continue.Â
âWell, the other day, Minny passed the entrance exam for Hwa Yang Academy. Now, the board has to conduct an interview with the family, but they said they would want both parents to be there.âÂ
âYou canât tell them that youâre a single father?âÂ
âI think itâll hurt her chances of getting accepted,â he explains. âI want my daughter to attend a good school. Her late mother would have wanted the same thing for her.âÂ
âAppa said lying is wrong, but heâs so good at it,â Minji thinks to herself.Â
âDo you really think that Iâm fit for the role?â Youâve never really had a penchant for acting or playing pretend. Lying, on the other hand, that is your strong suit.Â
âI donât mean to be too forward, but I think youâre perfect.â Jeongguk speaks his truth without any hesitation. He looks at you with such sweet and delicate eyes. âYou seem to be great with children, and Minny adores you already.âÂ
You eye him as if youâre considering his offer, but youâve already made up your mind. âIâll do it, but only if you do a favor for me too. Are you free next weekend?âÂ
âNext weekend?â Jeongguk raises an eyebrow. Itâs starting to make sense why you agreed to do this in the first place. You need something in exchange, quid pro quo.Â
âMy friends are throwing an engagement party. Theyâre worried about me all the time because Iâm single, but I thought I would lay it to rest if I told them I finally had a boyfriend, or at least someone Iâm talking to.â Your speech gets faster and faster with every word that comes out of your mouth. âI know it sounds crazy, IăźâÂ
âIâll do it.â
You stare blankly at him, unsure if you heard correctly, but a smile continues to creep onto the corners of your lips. âYou will?âÂ
Jeongguk reaches forward, gently taking your hand in his. âIt would be an honor to be your boyfriend,â he says, even if itâs just pretend. âAnd an even bigger honor to be your husband.âÂ
ây/n!âÂ
You donât hear your name being called relentlessly until your co-workers are shouting for your attention. Their words fall upon deaf ears.Â
As usual, they had been gossiping about their boyfriends and their weekend plans. You checked out of the conversation the moment Yumi opened her mouth and uttered her fiancĂŠâs name, resisting the urge to gag.Â
You look up from your lap, slightly too distracted. Thereâs a small, maroon stain and a rip in the skirt of your dress. Itâs not easy keeping your clothes in pristine condition when youâre constantly running toward danger. Youâre lost in thought, wondering how much the tailor shop will charge you for sewing it back together.Â
âWhat are you doing this weekend? Thereâs a new episode of that drama you like, right? Are you going to order delivery again?â Yumi assumes. âYou know, you should step outside from time to time. Maybe youâll find a nice person to date if Tinder doesnât pan out.âÂ
âActually, I have plans after work,â you announce before returning to inspect the damage on your dress.Â
âWith who? Did you meet someone on the app?â The cadence of Sujinâs voice is airy, shocked in disbelief.Â
âIâm meeting up with some guy.â You try not to make it a big deal, but these girls always blow it out of proportion. âI didnât meet him from the app though.âÂ
âYouâre seeing someone? Who?! You canât just drop the news and expect us not to ask for the details!â Sujin shouts.Â
âHe was at the library the other day, and he asked me out. Heâs the one with the tattoos ăź yâall would recognize him if you saw him,â you explain. âMinji is his daughter.âÂ
âThe guy with the coffee?â Everyone collectively gasps upon connecting the dots. âHim? How did you manage to pull that?!âÂ
Ouch. That hurts.Â
âI would dump my fiancĂŠ in a heartbeat if the coffee guy could blow my back out,â Yumi confesses.Â
How could she be so shallow? She was just talking about how much she loved her fiancĂŠ. Is he really that disposable? Besides, is Jeongguk nothing more than the coffee guy? A pretty face whoâs made for a one night stand? Youâre starting to think that people donât actually value their relationships. They just want a partner for the sake of having one.
Thereâs a sudden chime that resounds through the air, pulling you out of your thoughts. The service bell at the front desk had been struck. Itâs odd considering most people exited the library by now, knowing that it closes in ten minutes.Â
You all poke your head through the doorway to catch a glimpse of the patron. Their eyes widen in surprise when they see the coffee guy standing at the front desk. He stands tall and proud with a military stance, a head above everyone else. Thereâs a bouquet of pink camellias resting in his hand in place of his typical americano.Â
âJeongguk? I thought we were meeting at the cafe.â Perhaps you remembered the details of the conversation wrong. Â
When you speak his name out loud, all the girls shift their gaze to one another. Could it really be true that youâre seeing a man?Â
âI thought it would be nice if I could surprise you, and weâd walk there together.â He flashes a smile that sends an arrow straight through the heart (and through those of your coworkers). For a second, you think that Yumi might just faint.Â
Heâs handsome as ever, just as you recall. But today, thereâs something thatâs slightly out of place. Thereâs a bandage that rests on the bridge of his nose. Itâs pink with Sanrio characters plastered all over it ăź Hello Kitty and My Melody. Thereâs something about it that makes him even more endearing.Â
You try to stifle a giggle as you shoot him an apology. âSorry, can you hang around for a few more minutes? I have some things to do before closing.â
âTake your time, angel.â Jeongguk says. Crinkles begin to form at the corner of his eyes as the curve of his lips overtake him.Â
You have to admit that the pet name made your heart flutter. He plays into the role of a sweet boyfriend pretty accurately. Itâs all part of the act.Â
Sujin closes the door to the office. The girls break into squeals. They playfully hit your shoulder in disbelief, elbowing your sides. âI canât believe it! y/n is going out with a man?!âÂ
âAnd heâs hot!âÂ
You shake your head before returning to your work station, ignoring their cheers. But you canât help the subtle smile that reaches your lips. Maybe the girls will finally leave you the fuck alone.Â
âIâm so sorry for the wait.â You apologize as you approach Jeongguk, looking like a disheveled mess after an 8 hour shift. Your blouse is slightly wrinkled, and youâre certain thereâs residue left behind from all the marker stains the kids had carelessly drawn on you. Your arm is full of stickers, and youâll have to remember to peel them off later.Â
In the daycare, Jeongguk is propped on top of a bean bag chair that is much too small for his body. Thereâs a manhwa that rests in his lap. Itâs the one his daughter canât stop talking about.Â
âI got here ten minutes early anyways.â He places the book on the table before clambering to his feet. âOh yeah, and these are for you.â He passes the bouquet of camellias.Â
You raise your hands, not really sure how to accept the gift. Youâre not the type of girl to receive flowers, love poems, or pretty things. Nobody has ever pursued you in that way. All you ever receive are cursory glances and awkward smiles, but never anything as beautiful as this.Â
He inches the flowers a little closer to you, urging you to take it.Â
You pull the bouquet to your nose, taking a whiff of the sweet scent. âThese are really pretty. Thank you for that.â You motion for him to wait just a moment longer as you place the flowers into a vase.Â
Through the porthole of the office door, you can see the girls squeal and jump around in unison.Â
âAre you ready? Should we head out?â Jeonggukâs lips curl into a boyish smile.Â
You nod, sharply turning your heels in an attempt to hide the fluster of your face. Before you could take a step forward, youâre pulled to a halt. Thereâs a tug on your arm that spins you around. Jeonggukâs fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you close.Â
âWait one sec,â his breath fans across your face. âYou have some chalk on your cheek. Can I-?â He raises his hand, tentatively learning forward.Â
Heat rushes to the surface of your skin, yet you nod your head, giving into his request. âIs this part of the act?â you wonder out loud, low enough for Jeongguk to hear.Â
âOnly if you want it to be.â His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine.Â
As he leans forward to wipe the dust off your cheek, your throat dries. You freeze, attempting to avoid his gaze. Youâre not certain whether youâll explode upon gazing into his dark brown eyes.Â
Instead, you keep your sight locked straight ahead. Itâs a terrible idea considering his strong chest is right in front of you. The top two buttons of his white collared shirt are undone, and the space between his pecs are exposed, a necklace dangling in between. Thereâs a chance that you might die staring at it, so you accept the risk of embarrassing yourself and glance at his visage instead.Â
âThereâs my pretty girl,â Jeongguk says, dusting off the chalk.Â
A wave of butterflies swarm in the pit of your stomach, and your mind goes blank. You have no idea how to respond to such a compliment, and youâre unable to when your throat constricts. Your body warms, hyper aware of his palm on your cheek and the one wrapped around your wrist. Your one free hand that is not occupied by his clasp shoots up, hovering over the bandage plastered on his nose.Â
âWhat happened here?â The words splutter out of your mouth, trying to say something. Anything. Perhaps your anxiety would be less noticeable if you could just act natural ăź If you could stop standing there without a single thought in your head.Â
âBumped into a wall,â Jeongguk chuckles. Itâs a blatant lie. He could never be this clumsy. In actuality, he had failed to duck during a sparring match with another spy at the agency. Fuck Kim Mingyu and his stupidly beefy arms. âMinny picked the bandage for me.âÂ
âYou mean you didnât choose to wear the Hello Kitty? I think it suits you.â As soon as you graze the bridge of his nose, his laughter turns into a dramatic groan. Soft murmurs of âow, owâ fall from his lips.Â
ââm sorry, âm sorry!â You apologize.Â
His other hand gently grasps your palm, pulling it away from his sprained injury. Maybe your dating profile was right when it mentioned you donât know your own strength.Â
âDonât worry, letâs just hope that Minny is okay,â Jeongguk remarks. âShe insisted on wearing a matching bandaid because âif appaâs hurt, then Minnyâs hurt.â Kind of like a voodoo doll.âÂ
Subconsciously, the thought of Minny wearing a matching bandage despite being perfectly fine forces your lips into a smile.Â
âShould we head out now?â Jeongguk leans closer, voice barely above a whisper. âCan I hold your hand? Give your friends a real show to watch?â Itâs as if your hand wasnât already in his.Â
You nod your head, suddenly remembering that this is all an act. Youâre reminded of the girls crowded around the office door, peeking through the small window to catch a glimpse of the action.Â
Jeonggukâs hand glides down from your palm and between your fingers, lacing them together. A breath hitches in your throat, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. You can hear the high pitched screams from behind when the girls are convinced youâve stepped far away enough. But it isn't as loud as the sound of your heart beating out of your chest.Â
The two of you make your way to the cafe, walking side by side, hand-in-hand, occasionally bumping shoulders when you walk a little too close.Â
âHow was your day? I realized I never asked you what you do for work, and I donât really know much about you in general,â you chuckle, slightly embarrassed. âI thought we would at least have our first kiss by now if we were married.â Thereâs a hint of sarcasm in your tone, one that Jeongguk easily recognizes because his informant, Seokjin, is nothing but shits and giggles.Â
âWe would have done more than kissing, but we can start slow.â The corners of his lips curl into a playful grin. His words make you freeze, but it doesnât seem to faze him.Â
With your hands linked together, Jeongguk is pulled back by your halted movements. He turns to face you, displaying his pretty eye-smile. âIâm a journalist,â he says. âI write investigative articles when they donât ask me to cover silly politics.âÂ
Although itâs not completely true, itâs not totally false at the same time. He writes exposĂŠ articles based on the intel he uncovers from his spy missions. The articles that he writes are written under an anonymous name, obviously so he canât be tracked for exposing highly classified information. Nobody should ever know that heâs digging into the lives of corrupt politicians. Jeongguk might never see the light of day if word gets out.Â
âMy routine is pretty consistent,â he explains. âI did some research for my article, wrote a few thousand words in my drafts before deciding to scrap the entirety of it, and I picked up Minny from kindergarten. I asked my friend to babysit her while Iâm away tonight.âÂ
Jeongguk wants to scrub his tongue after admitting that Seokjin is his âfriend.âÂ
âWhat about you? Howâs your life at the library?â Jeongguk asks.Â
You describe the events that spiraled today as the two of you head inside the coffee shop and place your orders. âWell, the girls seemed convinced that weâre on a date,â you chuckle.Â
Jeongguk gasps. His hand clenches against his chest as if heâs wounded by your words. âYou mean to tell me this isnât a date? I thought we had something special.â He feigns exasperation. âYou are my wife, after all, arenât you?âÂ
You donât care to admit how amusing it is to hear the word wife coming from him. Despite the smile that plays on your lips, you shake your head no.
âThis isnât a real date,â you explain in denial. Nobody has ever asked you out, and youâll be damned if the first time is just pretend. âBut I guess this is good practice, especially when the stakes are higher for the interview.âÂ
âHmm⌠practice.â A crinkle forms between Jeonggukâs brows, lost in thought.Â
âI have to admit that I donât have a lot of experience with dating, and thatâs why we have to practice.â You shake your head, flustered. âActually, Iâve never even been in a relationship.âÂ
âWhyâs that?â He asks the age-old question.Â
âIâm not really the type that people fall for.â You tuck your head between your shoulders, offering a shrug. âIâm quiet ăź Not really good with people. Iâm a bit of a late bloomer. I spent a lot of my youth taking care of my younger brother.â Thatâs only the jist of it. You donât bother getting into the nitty gritty details. Being a full-time assassin isnât necessarily âfirst-date appropriateâ conversation.Â
âHow many partners have you had?â You bounce back, diverting the attention away from you.Â
âJust one, my wife who passed. We had been together since we were in high school.â The lie seeps through his teeth so easily. Itâs terrifying. But the less you know, the better.Â
The thought of being Jeonggukâs first âgirlfriendâ since the passing of his wife makes you incredibly nervous. Upon seeing the sullen avoidance in his eyes, you donât bring it up again. Instead, you try to lighten the mood.
The two of you fall into a routine of volleying questions back and forth. If youâre planning to convince everyone that youâre husband and wife, youâre going to have to know more than just one anotherâs (supposed) names and (supposed) professions.Â
You start with the easy stuff. âWhere did you grow up?âÂ
âBusan. I miss the sound of the ocean, but I donât mind the city as long as Minny goes to the best school in the country. What about you?âÂ
âI grew up in a town so small you wouldnât be able to find it on the map, but itâs not far from the capital.â
âCryptic, I like it.â A grin forms onto the corners of lips before he takes a sip of his coffee.Â
Over the next hour, you learn that Jeongguk, as robust and intimidating as he looks, is warm and gentle. His favorite thing about being a father is having someone to love and protect. To him, Minji is a bundle of joy who makes his day brighter despite the hurdles that come with being a parent. He would do anything in the world to give his child the life he never quite had.Â
Likewise, having lost his parents at a young age, he learned to lead a fulfilling life all on his own. Instead of letting it bog him down, he clings onto the simple things for respite, searching for happiness in every corner of the universe.Â
He loves the rain and how it fleetingly smells like the warm and muggy summers of his hometown. Although he doesnât experience the monsoon season quite like he used to, he loves to watch Minji splash around in her yellow rain boots. His favorite time of day is golden hour, especially when the fluffy white clouds are tinted with orange hues, reminding him of his first dog, Gureum.Â
Jeongguk has a slight addiction to black coffee, even if it makes his stomach hurt on the odd occasions (and you suggest he tries tea instead). He likes his eggs scrambled, and he prefers waffles over pancakes. He has plenty of awful habits like singing karaoke at four in the morning followed by cooking a pot of instant ramen to satiate his brutal cravings (yes, his food preferences are vital to your understanding of who Jeongguk is as a person, down to his core).Â
He tells you about his trip to Chicago some months ago where he definitely deepthroated a deep dish pizza after being dared by Seokjin. As much as he loved traveling, he was easily home-sick and desperately missing his fix of samgyeopsal. In fact, he tells you he would love to invite you over one day so he can make you a meal. And thank God for that because you are not handy in the kitchen whatsoever.Â
You learn that not necessarily all of his tattoos have meaning. The tiger is an emblem of his country while the tiger lily is his birth flower, and it is a silent, desperate plea to be loved. Thereâs a silly emoji on his middle finger just because he thinks itâs funny. He hates having to cover it up when he goes to work (tattoos may not have been the smartest idea knowing that he has to keep his identity a secret, but the damage is already done), and heâs certain that everybody judges him for the ink on his arms.Â
âAs long as you like your tattoos, it doesnât matter what anyone else thinks.â You offer him a warm smile as though nothing could ever hurt him. God, how he wishes that was true.Â
For some reason, Jeongguk doesnât know how to react to your words. Heâs only ever been told to cover up his skin as if he has something to be ashamed of. Â
In exchange for his stories, you trade Jeongguk pieces of your life. How your favorite memory from youth was when you had taken the city bus an hour and a half down to the beach with your brother, San, where youâd build sand castles on the brink of collapse. Sometimes, the smell of salt air and the longing for August still lingers to this day.Â
You tell him about your attempt at joining the knitting club so you could make cute sweaters and vests. They were never perfect. But at least they kept your brother warm during the winters. Besides, you had fun playing dress-up with him. Jeongguk finds that perhaps the boldest thing youâve ever done is bleach your hair strawberry blonde, only for it to turn out orange.Â
His laughter blooms through his chest when you tell him about the time you almost set the microwave on fire. Your mom never told you that aluminum foil doesnât belong in there, and you had to learn that the hard way. Thatâs probably why you should never set foot in the kitchen again. Nevertheless, you made mistake after mistake just so that San could have food on the table everyday after school. At least youâve perfected the art of cutting fruit at this point ăź no cooking skills required.Â
Although the two of you talk for what seems like hours, you canât help but think thereâs so much more to this man, and heâs unwilling to share. It doesnât necessarily bother you because you, too, have secrets of your own. You canât expect him to reveal everything about his life, even if he never does.Â
Itâs well into the evening when Jeongguk walks you home. The path is quiet. Itâs illuminated by the dim light of the street lamps. It feels like a scene from a movie youâve once watched ăź the origin of all your teenage fantasies. But this is real. Youâre just a girl, standing in front of a boy, and thatâs where it all begins.Â
ây/n?â The way he says your name brings you to a halt. His voice, although usually confident, is timid and uncertain. âIâll see you tomorrow, right? We still have a lot to talk about.â He looks at you with stars in his eyes, although none of them belong to you, and they could never be yours.Â
Your lips press together in a tight line, nodding your head in affirmation. As you bid your goodbyes, you wonder if it would be inappropriate to give him a hug. After all, youâve only just met the day prior, and this is nothing but pretend. Yet how will you ever grow accustomed to the touch of your husband?
Your arms remain crossed over your chest. You look down at your shoes, kicking a loose pebble at the front of your door, contemplating.Â
But he reaches for your hand, lightly grasping around your fingers. You jolt back as if he set your nerves aflame. Your gaze lifts toward his eyes, but it quickly lowers as Jeongguk descends down to one knee.Â
Your heart pounds against your chest, and you pray that he cannot hear it.Â
âIâm sorry I donât have a proper ringâŚâ He begins. âI hope you can accept this for now, and I swear Iâll get a diamond on your hand one day ăź As big as you want.âÂ
Jeongguk carefully pulls a small metal band from his pocket. It can easily be confused for the end piece of a keychain ăź perhaps itâs something that his daughter had left behind in his coat, never to be remembered. But for Jeongguk, he knows perfectly well that itâs the pin from a grenade he had tossed the week prior on an escape mission. He slides the ring onto your finger, and although it is slightly too large, you wouldnât have it any other way.Â
âI may not have been your first choice of a partner, and for all I know, I could have been dead last, but thank you for sticking by me. I swear Iâll take care of you. Iâll hold your heart with gentle hands, and I wonât ever let it break.âÂ
After all, this is just pretend.Â
But for some reason, his voice sounds so earnest, and you almost believe him. To be frank, you never really cared about lavish weddings and seven carat diamonds. If you were to ever look for a companion, all you could ask for is an honest partner.Â
Too bad Jeon Jeongguk is anything but that.
Throughout the next week, you spend more and more time getting to know your new âboyfriend.â Because of this, you have to put your side hustle on pause and constantly decline assignments on your burner phone. You certainly wouldnât want Jeongguk to overhear your plans to murder while he sits pretty beside you, waiting to hear about your day ăź your hopes, your dreams, and anything else thatâs on your mind. But it would be a shame if you cut your dates early, only to spend less than a second to put a bullet through your enemiesâ heads.
Youâd have much more fun with Jeongguk instead. Because he tends to plan the cutest surprise dates, and theyâre so incredibly thoughtful. Sometimes, Minji would accompany your dates when Seokjin canât babysit (heâs too busy trying to find his own baby mama so he can prove Minji wrong). Nevertheless, Minji adores the time that you spend together because it feels like youâre a real family.
The three of you would drive to the movies, play boardgames, and eat ice cream for dinner. Jeongguk had even taken you both to the annual carnival that you desperately wanted to check out. He wasnât fond of going because those claw machines and arcade games are absolute scams! Yet you caught the smug grin on his face when he finally won a stuffed bunny after downing fifty bucks. He was just so addicted to the thrill of nearly winning: âI could have gotten that!âÂ
During your dates, you would laugh for hours on end, but by the end of the night, Minji would fall asleep on her fatherâs shoulder. Thatâs usually your cue to head home. Sometimes, you think that he might kiss you goodnight, but he never does. His lips only ever brush your knuckles like the gentleman that he is.Â
âŚ
True to his word, Jeongguk invites you over for dinner the following Friday.
When you arrive at his apartment, you are instantly the worst houseguest known to mankind. Your umbrella is dripping wet from the pouring rain, effectively ruining Jeonggukâs wooden floors. However, thatâs not the problem that Jeongguk has with you. The problem is that youâre unable to stop laughing at Jeonggukâs attire.Â
Surely, your parents had taught you to be kind, especially to your hosts. Well, when Jeongguk swings the door open, revealing a frilly apron, something akin to what your grandmother would wear, you couldnât help it! A picture of My Melody is stamped onto the chest, staring straight into your soul.Â
It isnât lost on you ăź the irony of a big, strong man, no doubt subjected to dress up in his daughterâs choice of clothing.Â
âDonât laugh at me,â Jeongguk pouts, tilting his head like a puppy.Â
You stifle your giggle behind a tight lipped smile, but youâre so close to bursting at the seams. âI wouldnât dream of it.â
After placing your shoes at the door, Jeongguk leads you into his humble abode. He takes the bottle of chardonnay from your hands, thanking you for the gift, and places it onto the dining table.Â
âDinner should be ready in an hour,â he informs you.Â
âI know Iâm not very useful in the kitchen, but if you need help-âÂ
Before you can even think about lifting a finger, Jeongguk is quick to suggest an alternative. âNo, don't worry, youâre my guest. Just relax, okay? Minny is in the living room. You should spend time with her.âÂ
In the adjacent room, Minji is crouched over her study material. Her worksheets spread across the coffee table. Each question covers a different subject: basic biology, political science, religion and ethics, foreign language, etc. You never quite realized how much pressure children face in the education system.Â
After all, you were never really concerned with grades. You never thought about applying to the top school in the nation. In fact, your grades had fallen down a slippery slope by the time you were in high school. Rather, all of your time was dedicated to earning money and supporting your family.Â
When you sit beside Minji, she beckons you closer before you can even greet her. âIâm dying. Help me,â she pleads with wide eyes. You look down to see her math homework ăź fractions, Minjiâs sworn enemy.Â
âAppa wants me to study, but he wonât give me the answers,â Minji whines.Â
You canât help but chuckle. âMinny, you have to figure out the answers on your own if you want to do well.â
The sound of your advice makes her drop her head on the table with a soft thump.Â
âHere, letâs do a few questions together,â you suggest.Â
Try as you might, you only manage to complete half of the assignment. Minji huffs, slightly frustrated when she doesnât understand the concept.Â
You pat her back, consoling the small child. âOnce you eat dinner, youâll have more brain energy. Maybe you just need a break.âÂ
A lightbulb goes off above her head, and she springs to her feet. âAppa! Can I give eomma a tour of the house?âÂ
You tilt your head, amused by the sound of Minji calling you her mother.Â
âThat sounds like a great idea!â Jeongguk cranes his neck to peek at his devious daughter. âJust make sure you study again when youâre done.âÂ
Minji takes her fatherâs approval as a cue to grab your hand in hers, showing you every corner of the house ăź all of her drawings taped to the fridge, her favorite stuffed animals lined up at the end of the bed, and the sparkly clean toilet where she poops every morning. After describing everything in excruciating detail, you could have sworn that Minji would run out of words to say. But she never does.Â
âWhatâs behind that door?â You point to the end of the hall.Â
âThatâs appaâs bedroom. He told me I should never go in there unless he gives me permission.âÂ
You suppose itâs healthy to set boundaries between you and your child. Itâs not like Jeongguk has distasteful art hanging on his walls, and itâs not likely that heâs hiding a dead body in there. He doesnât seem to be the type to store skeletons in the closet. You, on the other hand, now thatâs a different story. Perhaps Jeongguk just needs a little privacy at the end of every night.Â
Minjiâs voice breaks you out of your reverie. âEomma! This is your room! Well, itâs a guest room, but appa says itâs basically yours if you ever want a place to stay.âÂ
You step into the final room, glancing around the walls at a loss of words. Your eyes are drawn to the shelves. Theyâre brimming with so many novels. Itâs like your own personal library. You could probably spend the entire day just browsing through each book.Â
As you slide open one of the drawers, youâre surprised to find an array of period products. There are also makeup wipes, an abundance of face masks, some sunscreen, and essential oils (apparently, women love that sort of stuff according to an article Jeongguk had bookmarked). Thereâs even a candle thatâs labeled âocean breeze.â
âDo you like it?â Minji looks up at you with wide, glimmering eyes as she uncaps the candle, shoving her entire nose against the wax with a hard whiff.Â
âI love it, Minny, thank you for the tour. I really appreciate it. You should get back to your studies. Iâll help your dad with dinner, but if you need my help, just call me, okay?âÂ
Minji sniffles theatrically and drags her feet into the living room.Â
You head towards the kitchen to find Jeongguk slicing a daikon radish with military precision. Thereâs soft music playing in the background, accompanied by the pouring rain outside, occasionally interrupted by the soft huff of frustration when Jeonggukâs bangs cover his eyes. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, revealing his strong forearms covered in tattoos.Â
Jeongguk finally looks up at you in the doorway. He flashes you a smile ăź delighted, and very much enamored. âHow was the tour?âÂ
âYour home is so cozy. But I donât know if I was supposed to look at the top secret file you forgot to put away.âÂ
âI- WHAT?â He yelps. The shock on his face is quickly replaced with an acute pain. The knife had sliced through his palm upon one careless motion.Â
âOh, fuck,â he mutters under his breath, ensuring that Minji wonât hear his foul language.
Jeongguk drops the radish onto the cutting board with a thud. He forces pressure onto the wound with the pad of his thumb to stop the bleeding. In actuality, heâs more concerned about the food than he is about his finger.Â
âOh my god, are you okay?â You rush over to his side, reaching for his wrist. âLetâs run it under cold water.âÂ
The two of you waddle towards the small sink, attached by the hip.Â
âI was kidding about the secret files. Iâm sorry about the cut.â Youâre ridden with guilt, seeing that your mindless joke had cost Jeongguk his hand.Â
âNo, no, you donât have to apologize. It was my fault. I was the one holding the knife.âÂ
You shake your head. âDonât blame yourself either. It happens. I get cuts all the time.â If thereâs ever a blade against your skin, itâs usually by the hands of your enemies. You, on the other hand, are a pro when it comes to handling knives.Â
Jeongguk shuts the faucet off, examining the cut. Itâs shallow. You could hardly see it.
âIâll grab a bandaid for you,â you offer, already sprinting down the hallway.Â
âTheyâre in the bathroom! Medicine cabinet!â Jeongguk shouts.Â
âI know! Minny gave me a tour of everything,â you shout back. You pluck the ointment and the familiar Hello Kitty bandages off the shelf before shuffling back to the kitchen. âMinny shared way too much information about the inventory of your medicine cabinet. Apparently, you have two morphine capsules left. You should get a refill on those.âÂ
Jeongguk hums in recognition, and you wonder why he would need a painkiller as strong as morphine.Â
Taking Jeonggukâs hand in yours, you assess the cut and gently blow on the appendages with the purse of your lips. You place the pink bandage onto his hand, and out of habit, you give him a quick kiss on the booboo.Â
When you pull back, youâre absolutely mortified. You avoid his gaze, trying to hide your own humiliation. âIâm so sorry! I didnât mean to do that. The kids at the daycare always ask for a kiss when theyâre injured.â
âItâs okay, I understand.â A rosy hue dusts over Jeonggukâs cheeks. Why is he so shy when heâs usually the bold and courageous one? Heâll be sure to call Seokjin tonight to ask what this means ăź to be so flustered and afflicted by your touch. Is his skin supposed to feel like itâs on fire?Â
With the look on his face, youâre not quite sure whoâs more embarrassed. So you run towards the sink and nervously wash your hands, practically rubbing the skin raw.Â
âIâll cut the radish for you.â You take his place by the cutting board.Â
When he asks if youâre sure, you just hum in response, having already started, and he succumbs to your offer. Typically, Jeongguk would not be willing to accept anyoneâs help. But thereâs warmth and sincerity in your tone.
âLet me tie this for you.â Jeongguk steps behind you, lightly brushing your hair back to keep it out of your eyes.Â
Heat rushes to your face, and you nod in agreement. Instantly, Jeongguk separates your hair into three different strands.
âYou know how to braid?â you ask, chopping away at the radish. âYou can just tie a simple ponytail if you want.âÂ
âMinny said she wanted to go to school with a French braid. I didnât know how to do it, so I looked at a video online. Iâm not that good, but let me practice, okay?â He ties off your hair with the elastic that he keeps on his wrist for standby. âTadaaa!â A proud grin sits on his pretty lips.Â
You can tell that the braid is a little too loose for your liking, but youâll be sure to show him how to properly braid later. Perhaps after dinner. âHow does it look?â You wonder.Â
âYouâre perfect,â Jeongguk says affirmatively, sweet as ever. âHere, let me give you an apron.âÂ
Before you know it, he loops a string of fabric over your head. It sits loosely on the back of your neck. Jeonggukâs hand rests on your shoulder blade, pushing your hips against the counter as he reaches to tie the string around the small of your back. He fixates on the knot that tethers around his thick fingers as he works on the fabric. His breath is hot against your neck. You can feel the heat radiate off of him.Â
When he pulls back, you swallow the lump in your throat, sighing a breath of relief. âThanks,â you murmur.Â
The worst part is that Jeongguk doesnât even realize the effect that he has on you. You wonder when heâll put an end to this madness. Because at this rate, you think you might explode if he inches any closer to you.Â
As it seems, fate has other plans.Â
While he watches you cook, he hovers behind you; not because heâs controlling, but because he wants to make sure youâre safe. He has to admit that youâre skilled with a knife, but your cooking techniques arenât quite there.Â
âWhen you cut, curl your fingers and tuck your knuckles underneath them.â Jeongguk inches closer and places his chin on the crown of your head. He slots himself against your back as his protective arms cage you against the marble counter. His hands slide down from your wrist, careful not to startle you, before cupping them around your fingers. He gently guides your hand, ensuring that you donât cut yourself.Â
You donât realize that youâve been holding your breath until he steps away. Maybe cooking isnât as bad as you make it out to be.
The heavy downpour of rain patters against the windows.Â
âIt looks like the weather is getting worse. I didnât realize it would storm tonight,â Jeongguk peeks between the blinds before lighting a few candles. The lamps had been flickering because of the torrential rain. âThe roads arenât very safe. If you want to stay over, you can take the guest room.âÂ
You nearly drop the cutlery on the table in the midst of setting up dinner. âAr- are you sure? I donât want to be a bother.âÂ
âStop with that, youâre never a bother,â he reassures you. âIf you want, Iâll drive you home first thing tomorrow morning.âÂ
You think about the invitation before ultimately deciding to accept. âThank you, Jeongguk. And by the way, I really appreciate how you set the room up for me.â You shoot him a grateful smile.Â
âAnything for my wife.â The warmth of his words makes your heart flutter.Â
When the table is finally set, the three of you settle down for dinner.Â
You bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the beautiful arrangement of food you have yet to touch. Thereâs tender pork belly, fermented shrimp, spicy oyster radish, fresh garlic, and pickled cabbage among a bunch of other side dishes you canât even put a name to.Â
âYou said you were hungry, right?â Jeongguk picks up the cabbage leaf and stuffs the ingredients inside. He wraps it into a roll and places it on top of your fluffy white rice.Â
Watching the steam rise in front of you, you nearly bawl from how delicious it smells. The tears threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes.Â
Nobody has ever made you a home-cooked meal since your parents had passed.Â
âAre you- uhm,â Jeongguk lifts his hand, not knowing what to do with his own limbs. A set of chopsticks rests between his thumb and pointer finger, fish cake tucked between the silver metal. It hovers halfway across the table, abruptly stopping before he could reach your bowl. âYou can cry, itâs okay-âÂ
You donât dare to move a single muscle when the tear falls down your cheeks.Â
Minji reaches over to wipe the droplet away. You canât tell if she wants to comfort you, or rather, sheâs just looking to steal a bite of your pork belly. But youâre inclined to believe itâs the former. Her father had already served a piece of meat in her bowl.Â
âItâs okay, eomma. You can cry. Just⌠donât do it over the dishes. You donât want your food to be salty,â Minji advises.Â
Jeongguk calls his daughterâs name, scolding. He plucks out a few tissues from the box and passes them across the table.Â
You wipe your eyes, praying that the tears will stop. âIâm sorry, Iâm fine,â you shake your head. âI just donât really remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal with anyone other than myself. I think my parents were the last people to ever cook for me.âÂ
âWhat about your brother?â Jeongguk inquires.Â
âIâve always made food for him growing up, and ever since he went to university, heâs been away from home. I really havenât seen him in a while.â A sullen smile tugs on your lips. âWe usually just talk on the phone.âÂ
Jeongguk topples more food onto your bowl, filling it to the brim. âWhenever you come over, you can have any kind of food that you want. Just name it, and itâll be yours. Even if I donât know how to make it, Iâll learn. Now letâs eat up, okay?â He picks up a piece of pork belly, prepared to bribe you like a child who hasnât stopped crying.Â
You open your mouth, allowing him to feed you, humming in satisfaction. You mutter a thank you before putting on your bravest smile as the rain pours outside.Â
Itâs late in the night when you hear a soft sniffle that echoes from the other side of the bedroom door, followed by a dull strike against the wooden surface, a call for your attention.
âEomma?â
It never takes you by surprise when a child who isnât yours calls you their mother. It happens often enough at the daycare center. Tiny humans let the term of endearment slip from their loose lips ăź some variation of âmom,â âmommy,â or âeomma.âÂ
These children cry for you when they have trouble opening their chocolate milk, or when they get a âboobooâ from their arts and crafts activity, nothing but a measly, barely-there papercut. These children have an understanding that theyâre safe with you. That youâd take care of them like a mother would, opening their bottles, helping to clean their mess, kissing their pain away, and wiping the tears dry. Sometimes they donât notice their honest mistake, having called you their mother. Other times, theyâre apologetic and embarrassed. But whatâs there to be embarrassed about?Â
The vocabulary of children is limited to only a few hundred words, but they always resort to the one thing they know. Whether it is, âmom,â âmommy,â âeomma,â or so on and so forth, they trust you in the purest form. They feel protected and comforted by you.Â
Although youâve heard it a dozen times before, youâve never seen a child mean it so earnestly, not like Minji, and definitely not at two in the morning.Â
You open the bedroom door, looking down to see her tear stained cheeks. The instinct to protect kicks in like second nature. âMinny, whatâs wrong?âÂ
Lightning flashes through the sky, followed by a loud crash of thunder. The little girl flinches with a yelp, squeezing her eyes shut, pressing her hands against her ears.Â
âItâs so loud, âm scared,â Minji pouts.Â
You crouch down to wrap your arms around her shoulders, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. She shivers in your hold, trying to calm down as you rub soothing circles onto her back.Â
âDonât worry, Minny. The thunder canât catch you while youâre in here,â you murmur, adjusting the nightcap on the top of her head. âYouâre always safe with me.âÂ
âCan I sleep with you and appa tonight?â Minji asks.Â
âTh- the both of us?â Your eyes widen. Perhaps Minji doesnât quite understand the terms of your arrangement. Youâre not actually her mom, and Jeongguk isnât really your husband. Certainly, sleeping in the same bed as Jeongguk crosses some imaginary boundary. âI- I donât know if appa would-âÂ
âCan we ask him?â Minji pleads, and she looks like sheâs about to burst. It doesnât hurt to try, right?
So you relent, and the two of you tiptoe down the hall to Jeonggukâs bedroom, hand-in-hand. Thereâs a light that leaks from the bottom of the doorway. Could he possibly be awake this late in the night?Â
You motion at the door, encouraging Minji to knock. She has to be a big girl, expressing her needs, asking for help when she needs it.Â
âAppa!â Minji whacks the palm of her hand against the wooden surface, and you have to correct her form. You squeeze her hands into a fist, showing her how to properly knock and urge her to try again.Â
On the other side, you can hear the shuffle of papers and the sound of wheels scraping against the linoleum floor, followed by the pad of footsteps. The door swings open, revealing a set of sleepy eyes, shrouded behind a pair of glasses. Jeonggukâs hair is disheveled, having run his hands through his overgrown mane a million times (heâs been pondering whether he should cut it, but youâve shyly expressed how he looks handsome either way, and right now is no exception).Â
âAppa, can I sleep with the both of you tonight?â Minji hiccups between sniffles, and a tear treads down her cheek. When a crash of thunder sounds through the air, she lurches forward to wrap her arms around her fatherâs legs, shaking like a leaf.
Jeongguk pats the top of Minjiâs head to comfort her. âWhatâs wrong? What happened?âÂ
âThe sky,â Minji shakes her head, pressing her face deeper into her fatherâs thigh. âToo loud. Itâs scary. Wanna sleep with you and eomma.âÂ
Normally, Jeongguk would be stressed, weighing his options, trying to determine the best course of action for his child. But thereâs a sigh of relief that slips from his lips when his gaze meets yours. Thereâs a deep blush that spreads across his cheeks. âIs this okay with you?â His lips move in silence, mouthing the words, only for you to see.
In response, you nod your head and flash him a concerned smile. âYou?â You mouth the words right back.Â
Jeonggukâs answer is obvious when he wraps his arms around the little girl and lifts her into the air. âLetâs go to sleep, Minny.â
Jeongguk taps his chin, pondering, as he stares at the little girl sandwiched in the center of his bed. âSomething doesnât feel right.â But thereâs an unmistakable glimmer in his eyes. As tired as he is, he doesnât seem to let it show. âYou know what we should do?âÂ
Before you can respond, heâs already darting out of the bedroom. He stumbles into the living area, grabbing all the mismatched furniture that he can find. Thereâs a coat rack in one hand and a stool in another. He runs to grab a fishing pole from the closet, one that he had stolen from Seokjin and never returned.Â
âWhatâre you doing?â Your brows furrow, confused. But the smile on your face tells him that youâre thoroughly entertained.Â
âWeâre building a fort! Come help me!â He takes hold of your hand and leads you into the living room. âHere, take as many pillows as you can.â Instantly, he holds out a stack of cushions. And who are you to say no?Â
With your inventory in hand, you run back to Jeonggukâs bedroom and plop them down onto the bed. âMinny, put the pillows wherever you want! Make it comfy for yourself.âÂ
The three of you get to work, constructing a pillow fort, and suddenly, youâre five years old all over again.Â
Jeongguk returns with spare bed sheets and throw-blankets, tenting them over the makeshift poles. When youâre finally satisfied with your fort, the two of you climb onto the mattress on either side of Minji, huffing and puffing from all the energy exerted.Â
âThat was fun,â you say, exasperated. A beat of silence passes by as you catch your breath. âThank you again for letting me sleep over, by the way.âÂ
Thereâs fondness in Jeonggukâs eyes as he turns to look at you. âI hope you know that you can stay as long as you want, and youâre always welcomed whenever.â His sentiment makes your heart beat a little faster. âI told you Iâd take care of you.âÂ
âYou should knowâŚâ As you stare at the roof of the makeshift fort, you try to make sense of how you ended up here. It doesnât feel real. It doesnât feel like you deserve it. âTaking care of me is more trouble than itâs worth.âÂ
Jeonggukâs voice is stern and relentless. âItâs not trouble. Not if itâs you. Do you really think I scare so easily?âÂ
You think you might cry, but youâve already used up more than enough tears from your daily allowance. So you turn to thank him, only to be met with Jeonggukâs half-lidded eyes. He only hums in response ăź thereâs no need to thank him.Â
His face is illuminated by the faint glow of the desk lamp on the other side of the room, the one he abandoned in favor of lulling his precious daughter to sleep. Minji holds her fatherâs hand while you stroke her hair. Within a few short minutes, sheâs sound-asleep. The room is quiet, save for her soft snores.Â
âPoor Minny, I hope that this doesnât ruin her sleep schedule,â you whisper into the night.Â
âShe might need a nap tomorrow, but thatâs okay. It happens sometimes.â Jeongguk lets out a yawn as he tugs the blankets up his shoulders.Â
You remind him with gentle caution, âWhat about you? You shouldnât sleep so late.âÂ
âI know, I know.â He presses his palms against his eyes, utterly exhausted. âI just wanted to squeeze one more chapter in.âÂ
You peek out from the gap in the fort, scanning the mess that lies on top of Jeonggukâs desk. Books are stacked across two different piles, separated by genre ăź One of them being social psychology books required for his research; âHow to Win Friends and Influence Peopleâ sits on the very top.Â
Another stack is dedicated to the parenting books he often checks out from the library. There are Hello Kitty post-it notes that fill up nearly every page, bookmarked for future reference.Â
Your eyes return to Jeonggukâs figure, convinced that you can steal a glance, evaluating his exhausted state. But he already has his eyes trained on you, albeit very groggy. A dopey grin stretches across his lips. If he wasnât already tired before, he definitely is now.Â
âYou donât have to do all this alone, Jeongguk. You need to rest.â You flash him a matching smile, hoping that the sentiment reaches him. âI donât think that you scare easily, but I donât think youâre immune to it either. And thatâs perfectly okay. Weâre all just people trying to get by.âÂ
Jeongguk sinks deeper into the pillows, succumbing to his sleepy desires. âThank you,â he murmurs, slurring his words. Another yawn slips from his lips. âIâm just used to it ä¸ being on my own.âÂ
âWell, youâre not on your own anymore. You can count on me. Weâre a team, remember?âÂ
Jeongguk hums, reduced to non-verbal responses that donât require much energy. Exhaustion tugs at his eyelids until theyâre shut. He makes a mental note to talk about this with you another day.Â
You wave a hand in front of his face, convinced that heâs far gone from the state of consciousness. âIf it makes you feel better, I can head back to my room now,â you whisper. You think it might be futile to warn him, considering heâs not awake. But as you peel the blanket back, one foot off the bed, thereâs a warmth that envelops your wrist, and you halt in your tracks.Â
âStay,â Jeongguk, as tired as he is, manages to mutter with conviction.Â
His grip doesnât falter, and so, you relent. You crawl back beneath the sheets and let the night fade into dawn.Â
The sound of rain splashes against the window. The petrichor smells like childhood. It feels like home, and Jeongguk has never slept so soundlessly in his entire life.Â
Somehow, Jeongguk wakes up long before you, and you want to curse him for looking so handsome at the crack of dawn. His hair, although disheveled, looks perfectly imperfect. His shirt, as loose as it is, hugs his body in all the right places, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His round specs perch on the bridge of his nose.Â
âWhat do you think about going on a family outing?â Jeongguk suggests over breakfast.Â
Minjiâs eyes widen as excitement fills her tiny frame.
âThat sounds like a fun idea,â you chime. âWe should spend more time together so we can be perfect for the interview.â Because loving this man and his daughter is nothing more than a performance, right?Â
 âMaybe we can stop at the convenience store and have a picnic in the park. What do you think?â In Jeonggukâs mind, he maps the layout of the market, pinpointing the food that the three of you would enjoy: kimbap, dried squid, potato chips, banana milk, and even fish shaped ice cream.Â
âThe weather cleared up today. Itâs beautiful outside.â You say, chowing down on a bite of strawberries.Â
Jeongguk raises a brow, questioning. âYou want to go today? I thought you would want to go home after spending the night.âÂ
âI donât have much else planned on a Sunday. It gets kind of lonely at my house,â you shrug. âAre you sick of me already?âÂ
But Jeongguk shakes his head. Heâd be foolish to ever push you away.Â
âŚ
In sync, both you and Minji enthusiastically bounce on your feet through the streets of Seoul. You could easily pass as a family from that simple action alone. Itâs evident when elders cross paths with you, a fond smile sitting on their faces: âYou have a beautiful family!â Thereâs no denying that. The three of you are picture perfect as you link hands on either side of Minji because she is, in fact, the center of your universe.Â
When you arrive at the convenience store, Jeongguk picks out a variety of nutritious food while Minji tries to slip cookies into the basket. Sheâs convinced that her father is not looking because heâs too busy sneaking glances at you from the other end of the snack aisle. He doesnât think anyone would notice, but Minji surely does.Â
For some reason, he feels so content standing in a supermarket with his wife who picks the freshest fruit, and his daughter who tries to distract him from seeing the junk food in her hands. In fact, he could probably spend the entire day comparing vegetable prices, and he would still have the time of his life with you. He used to hate running errands, unless it was doing laundry. But now, he doesnât seem to mind it. Perhaps itâs because he has two companions at his side, and it feels a little less lonely.Â
âJeongguk?â You call his name from down the aisle. âDo you want me to grab coffee for you?â You reach for the top shelf on your tippy toes, struggling to grip your hands around the bottle.Â
Within an instant, Jeongguk is already at your side. He wraps an arm around your waist to prevent you from falling forward. A heat envelops your hand as he wraps his fingers around your palm. âI think Iâll skip on coffee for now. How about tea?âÂ
Upon hearing his deep voice against the shell of your ear, you grow flustered. The heat of his body makes you freeze, and all you can do is nod your head, stunned. He reaches one shelf over to pluck a large bottle of tea, one that you can all share.Â
Although heâs dropped your hand, he keeps a strong arm around your waist. His shoulders are broad enough to simply devour you. Even his chest is so firm pressed against your back.
âBy the way, angel, donât you think weâve moved on from the formalities?â Thereâs a pout that rests on his lips. âIâd like it if you could call me something other than Jeongguk. I think itâs more convincing that way.âÂ
âBut thatâs your name. What do you want me to call you? Babe? Baby?âÂ
He shakes his head as he rests his chin in the crook of your neck. His hair brushes against your cheek, and your breath hitches in your throat.
You stutter the words out of your mouth, trying to act unaffected. âH- how about darling? Honey? Sweetie? ⌠Handsome?âÂ
He doesnât react to either of them, but handsome definitely makes him giggle.Â
You ponder for a moment more. âThen what about love?âÂ
His arm squeezes your waist a little tighter as he presses an innocent kiss to your cheek. âThatâs perfect, angel.âÂ
He unravels himself from you as you stare blankly at the beverage aisle in complete awe. You brush your fingertips against your cheek where his warmth lingers.Â
This is still practice⌠right?Â
As you stroll through the park, you come across a live performance at the base of the fountain. Thereâs a man playing guitar, and heâs serenading the crowd as he busks for money. The three of you stand to admire just for a moment.Â
A few feet away, Minji is spinning and dancing to the soft melody. Meanwhile, Jeongguk moves his head to the beat of the song, singing the words, albeit faintly.Â
âYou have a pretty voice.â You nudge your shoulders against his to catch his attention.Â
âOh, itâs nothing.â Heâs bashful.Â
âYou should sing for me one day.â You raise your brows, trying to tempt him.Â
He contemplates your request, but he teases you with a soft âmaybe.â He bumps his shoulder against yours like a high schooler with a crush.Â
You return the sentiment in a playful back and forth. His sweet action makes you squeal, but not for the reason that you think. Because the affectionate brush of skin against yours quickly transforms into Jeongguk hauling you into his arms. His thick biceps wrap beneath your thighs, and he lifts you into the air. You canât stop yourself from giggling when he spins you around. Thereâs a combination of thrill and euphoria in your chest.Â
Jeonggukâs mind briefly wanders back to the conversation he had with Minji right before he tucked her into bed last night. âAppa, do you have a crush on eomma?âÂ
He had scoffed at the question, brushing it off as if that was far from the truth. But Minji had thought otherwise. âWhen you have a crush on someone, you think about them all the time. You want them to be happy, and you would do anything to make them smile. Whenever you look at eomma, I can see your ears go red. I think you were shy when she kissed your booboo, and you probably want to kiss her back, right?â For some reason, Minjiâs advice seemed to be more introspective than what he could ever pull out of Seokjin.Â
Jeongguk shakes his head, returning back to reality as he tucks the memory away. When he places you on the ground, you pant with adrenaline. âI thought I was going to fall.âÂ
His gaze meets yours, and he playfully brushes his knuckles beneath your chin. The peak of sunset illuminates your eyes, and you look golden. An epiphany flashes through his mind, and Jeongguk mutters a curse that echoes through his thoughts. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He wants to kiss you.Â
But as usual, Jeonggukâs mind wins over his heart. He bites his tongue back and offers the next best thing: âDo you think Iâd ever let you fall?â He grabs your hands as if nothing had happened ăź as if he isnât falling in love ăź and you sway to the beat of the music, skipping to the lawn where you can enjoy your picnic.Â
âŚ
The park is bustling with so many individuals going about their day, minding their own business. The city comes alive with all of the action that surrounds you.Â
âEomma, whatâs that over there?â Minji points at an art display at the other end of the fountain. Thereâs a throng of people, crowding around the small space. The three of you pack up your meal, making sure to toss all of your garbage, before heading over to catch sight of the action.Â
There are rows of copy paper attached to a fishing line. It strings across a makeshift perimeter, rooted with no rhyme or reason. Apparently, all the buzz is about an interactive exhibit. Anonymous letters from passersby are posted for you to view, and you may even contribute by submitting your own story. You could write about anything you want.Â
âThat sounds like a fun idea,â Jeongguk suggests. So he grabs paper and markers for the three of you as you get to work.Â
Jeongguk tries to steal a glance at your story, but you throw your body over the paper.Â
âHey, no peeking!â you shout. âThese stories are supposed to belong to strangers, okay? Letâs keep it anonymous.âÂ
On the other hand, Minji is enthusiastic to show her father the family portrait sheâs drawn.Â
As the minutes pass, you finish jotting your thoughts. Itâs not perfect by any means, but the sentiment is still there. When all is said and done, youâve agreed that you wouldnât read one anotherâs stories. One day, you both will disclose the contents of your letter, and you will finally know the truth, but today is not that day.Â
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Dear reader, If Iâm being honest, Iâve always felt undesirable. Nobody has ever confessed their feelings for me. Iâve never been in a relationship, nor have I had my first kiss. Iâve never been stopped in the middle of the street, only to be told that I have a beautiful smile. Iâve always been average at best. My friends are concerned that Iâm lonely. Theyâre convinced that I need someone to take care of me, but I constantly tell them that I can do it on my own. Iâve done it my entire life. Iâve held my own hand, swallowed the heartache, and reminded myself âI can do this!â before doing the scary things I never wanted to do. I patted myself on the back when I finished school, earned my first job, and paid all my overdue bills. I raised my younger brother at the age of eighteen as if I was a single mother. I woke up to an empty bed every single day and fed myself scraps of food, even when I didnât want to. Sometimes, it was burnt, charred, and a little too salty. But thatâs what love tastes like, right? Through the smooth sailing and the rough patches, there was no boyfriend, no girlfriend, no partner or lover. Just me. But the more that I think about it, I am so, so tired. Perhaps I grew up too fast and burned too bright. Because now, I donât know what to do. Thereâs a guy that I like, or at least I think I do. Nobody ever taught me how to sort out my feelings. Iâve always been told to give and give and give. Iâve had to sacrifice my life, my time, and all of my energy. I was never allowed to feel anger, sadness, or human connection. I never had anything for myself, and I feel empty. But lately, being with him brings me to life. Although I donât know what itâs like to be in love, this is the closest thing Iâve ever felt to it. When Iâm with him, my inner child wants to come out and play. That little girl has always lived in my imagination. I donât know her very well, but sheâs running around, laughing and dancing as if she knows no pain. With him, she is always reminded that she is beautiful and spectacular. That she is stronger than anyone he knows. She is safe. She is protected. Above all, she feels seen. She gets ice cream for dinner, and itâs sweet. It doesnât quite taste like the love she once knew, but somehow, she thinks itâs even more delicious. Surely, yes, I can take care of myself. But maybe we can learn to take care of each other.Â
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Hi. I donât know who cares to read this, but if you do, welcome. Where do I even begin? I know this sounds pathetic, but⌠I donât think anyone has ever truly understood me for who I am. Perhaps thatâs my fault. I constantly reinvent myself to be the person that they want me to be. Society has so many expectations as to how I should look, how I should act, and how I should feel. Let me paint you a picture. Iâm big ăź horribly buff. I have tattoos and long hair. All the neighborhood grandmas tell me I should cut it because Iâd be more handsome. They even tell their grandchildren not to look up to me because Iâm far from being an aspiration. Even if Iâm the most charming person in the room⌠if I change my appearance ăź if I lose weight, cover my tattoos, and buzz off my hair, theyâd find another reason to hate me. Itâll never be enough. Theyâll always perceive me as the bad guy and villainize me for everything I do. They say itâs better to be feared than to be loved if I cannot be both. But⌠I think I want to be loved. I want to be loved so bad that I would do anything to make people look at me. Yet they all shove their unwanted opinions down my throat, and I have nothing left to swallow but my own pride. I have no choice but to be exactly what they want. Most people assume that Iâm indestructible. Fortified. That I donât have a single worry in this world. They think that I can shoulder all of these burdens, and nothing could possibly hurt me. Supposedly, I donât ever cry ăź I never break or bend or shatter because showing emotion is a sign that Iâve already lost. But itâs not true. Iâm softer than I look. I worry that Iâm not good enough. I feel like I suck at my job, and I constantly make mistakes. I donât know how to be a good father, but I try. I donât really know what I want to say. I just wish that people didnât feel entitled to my body. My body is my own except when it isnât. It happens more often than not. Maybe then, I could finally be myself, whoever that may be. It sounds like my life is awful, but I promise it isnât that bad. Recently, Iâve found a small glimmer of hope. Thereâs one person who accepts me for who I am. She doesnât expect me to be anyone but myself. She looks at me like Iâm human ăź as if Iâm someone whoâs worth it. Like Iâm more than just an idea. She showed me that thereâs kindness in this world ăź that thereâs bravery in being soft. She sees me, and scary enough, I think she can even see right through me. Iâve told her so many vulnerable things about myself, and she could probably stab me in the back with all that she knows. I think it would be worth it though. Thereâs still so much I have to tell her. She may not know the whole truth, but one day, she will. I hope she doesnât leave me when she finds out. Until then, I will take care of her. I will keep her safe and protect her with every inch of my life. I promise.
By the end of the week, you and Jeongguk have amped yourselves up for Yumiâs engagement party. But thereâs one problem.Â
Jeongguk is late.Â
Heâs never late. When he needs to pick up his daughter from school, he always shows up thirty minutes before dismissal. On date nights, he knocks on your door while youâre in the midst of putting on makeup, and he gladly watches you doll yourself up for the entire hour. For Jeongguk to be late, something must be terribly wrong.Â
The two of you had agreed to meet up at Yumiâs party seeing that Jeongguk was running behind from work. But where could he possibly be when you need him the most?Â
Outside of Yumiâs apartment complex, you pace anxiously, twiddling with the engagement present in your hands ăź a cast iron skillet that you and Jeongguk had both bought at the department store. From the sidewalk, you can hear the sound of music streaming from the open windows. Endless chatter filters between each beat. You glance at your watch for what feels like the hundredth time.Â
âJeongguk, where are you?â You groan, ready to accept defeat.Â
A nervous sigh falls from your lips. Your shoulders slump. If you have to wait any longer, you might just head into the party all on your own and lose face in front of your friends.Â
Suddenly, you hear the echo of your name from down the street. Jeongguk is sprinting towards you. Heâs a blur of motion. Before you realize it, the air is knocked out of your lungs. Jeongguk had overestimated his speed, missed his landing, and he is colliding into you with open arms.Â
âAngel, Iâm so sorry Iâm late.â He tucks his head against your shoulder, panting. His cheeks are hot, and his hair is disheveled. He murmurs apologies against your skin. The scratch of his voice etches a frown onto your face.Â
Between the two of you, Jeongguk is the more composed one. Youâve always known him to be calm, collected, a little silly, but lovely nevertheless. Youâve never seen him quite like this. Heâs shaking.Â
You squeeze his shoulders in an attempt to peel his body away from yours. But his arms wrap around your waist even tighter, unwilling to part ways. This scene is rather familiar, something akin to a little child seeking comfort. You pat his back, hushing him, as to tell him that everything will be okay.Â
So you start counting to ten, reminding him to breathe in and out. You place your hand on his chest, strong and reliable, right over the beat of his heart. His eyes close, concentrating all of his energy on the blooming feeling inside of his ribcage. So you paint a pretty picture for him as you dwell in a little puddle of grief together.Â
âMy mom used to tell me that if you transport yourself to a happy place, then all your worries will melt away.âÂ
Jeongguk doesnât respond, but he hums against your collarbone. He wants nothing more but to hear you talk. He loves the sound of your voice. What is your happy place?Â
âThese days, I picture myself with you in your house. Weâre baking a cake with Minny, and itâs going terribly wrong.â You let out a chuckle, and itâs the sweetest thing Jeongguk has ever heard. âWell, actually, the taste is perfect. Youâre the head chef after all, and youâre so talented. You know better than me.âÂ
You interrupt your own story with something that will definitely make him laugh. âDid you know that Iâve been borrowing cookbooks from the library? I know it sounds ridiculous. I want to get better so you donât have to cook all the time. Itâd be such a shame if I accidentally poisoned you and the cops would swarm in, charging me with second degree murder.â You can feel his smile against your neck. âI found a recipe for buckwheat noodles, and maybe we should try it out next weekend.âÂ
He nods against your neck, sniffling. He doesnât want to break it to you, but all you need is a boiling pot of water to cook the noodles.Â
âWell anyways, in my happy place, the kitchen is a disaster because thereâs icing everywhere. Sprinkles are in your hair. I think I have flour in my bra and butter on my cheek. But weâre having fun, singing along to the radio with all of the wrong lyrics. Iâd ask you to dance, and when youâre too scared of looking stupid, Minny would pull out a dance move thatâs even sillier than what you could ever imagine. Because even if we canât do it perfectly, whether it is cooking or dancing or singing, weâre still trying.â
Thereâs a wet tear that falls onto your collarbone. You trace a circle against Jeonggukâs chest, reminding him to concentrate all of his feelings right there. His shoulders relax and his breath evens out.Â
âWhen weâre in our happy place, we never go hungry. So if you ever feel sad or anxious, then just meet me right here. Iâll bring the cake ăź sorry, just the ingredients, actually, but Iâll get better at cooking. I swear! Minny will bring her cute attitude. And you can just bring yourself.âÂ
Thereâs a soft breeze that surrounds you. The moonlight conspires with the flight of the fireflies, illuminating the dim sidewalk. The party is long forgotten as you hold onto Jeongguk for just another moment. Reluctantly, he steps back with his head down. His eyes train on the pavement.
âHow do you feel, love? Look at me.â You cup his cheeks, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling into your embrace.Â
After taking a deep sigh, he lifts his head to reveal a bruised cheek and a gash above his eye, right on the brow bone. The blood runs dry.Â
Shock runs through your body. âWhat happened? Did someone hurt you?â You gently move his head from side to side, examining every inch of his skin to check for more injuries. But your eyes are frantic. Your hands run through his hair, feeling for bumps and bruises. The search comes up empty, but your throat constricts at the thought of someone hurting your husband.Â
You grab the cast iron skillet, wielding it like a weapon with the force of a grip so tight that it threatens to bend beneath your fingers. Your other hand clenches his palm, stomping in the direction he came from so he could lead you towards the perpetrator.Â
Whoever did this to Jeongguk is going to pay, and youâre willing to kill whoever it is. Because for him, you would wage a full on war, running straight into your demise if it meant fighting for him. You would barrel through fire, load your rifles, and draw your daggers no matter what it takes. If they ask you to rip your heart out and put it in his hands, you would have considered the deal done long ago.Â
Jeongguk is quick to extinguish the fiery passion that fuels your anger, reminding you to not make any rash decisions. The flash of his doe eyes is enough to soothe your worries, and all you want to do is hold him.Â
The truth is, Jeongguk had already taken care of the situation. As the story goes, he had accepted a side mission to stop the smuggling of antiques from a museum ăź gifts from a billionaire tycoon who had long passed. His heirs had sent the treasures to be appraised in the city before it was quickly intercepted by a smuggling ring.Â
Jeongguk managed to save original art from dynasties past (no doubt stolen), rare coins, china sets, and clusters of intricate jewelry. He stopped the ploy before the thieves had even left the warehouse. However, being the best of the best does not mean he is able to escape unscathed every time.Â
Jeongguk did not account for the hidden explosives on the agenda. A shrapnel had grazed his skin, forming a deep gash above his brow bone. Had he not been more careful, he would have been in much worse shape.Â
Although Jeongguk had completed his mission, barely injured, he canât help but feel guilty for showing up late. If his wound was much more serious, or perhaps he was left for dead, he would not have made it to Yumiâs engagement party. The last thing Jeongguk wants is to keep you waiting.Â
While he zipped through the streets of Seoul, he didnât even have a chance to think of a lie. All he could think about was running to you. So he says the first thing that comes to mind. âThe airbags in my car set off.âÂ
âYou were in a crash? Was Minny with you? What are you doing here? You should go to a hospital!â The words splutter out of your mouth.
His hand cups yours as they rest on his cheeks. âMinnyâs with Seokjin today, so donât worry. The collision was really minor, I swear. I already went to the emergency room, and they said Iâll be good as new.â His voice is eerily calm.Â
He laces his fingers with yours and presses his lips against your knuckles before promptly taking the iron skillet from your hands. âI donât want you to worry, letâs just go to the party, okay?âÂ
Youâre too concerned to even dwell on that tender moment of intimacy. âYou worry me too much, you know?âÂ
âI know, angel. Iâm sorry. Iâll make it up to you, I swear.âÂ
You squeeze his hand a little tighter as you shake your head. âI donât need anything. Iâm just glad that youâre here.âÂ
But little do you know, thereâs a diamond ring worth millions burning a hole in Jeonggukâs pocket. Some dead billionaire isnât going to miss it.Â
Everyone at the event is captivated by Jeongguk. Of course they would. Itâs easy when Jeongguk is so charming in such a deceitful way. He can easily spin different versions of himself after each new greeting, creating a hundred nuances to his personality in an instant. He could tell everyone that heâs the prince of Joseon, and they would easily fall for his lies because of the charisma that he oozes.Â
Your friends see him as the best boyfriend in the world, someone whoâs the total package and simply put, heâs way out of your league. Heâs romantic in every aspect of the word, heâs open about his feelings, and heâs the purest definition of a âgirl dad.â What more could you possibly ask for? Whatever it is, Jeongguk is exactly that.Â
Even when Jeongguk has no need to impress the men at the party, he has dozens of conversation topics up his sleeve. Itâs impressive when he knows basically everything about everything. You name it: video games, boxing, and the federal reserve. This arsenal of information is stored in his mind simply because heâll never know when he needs to strike up a conversation about camping, barbecuing, or fishing (despite never having an interest to sit and stare at the water with Seokjin for hours on end). Men are so simple minded. Theyâre absolute fools.Â
Thankfully, your brother, San, is just another man who falls for the thinly veiled ruse. He seems to approve of your relationship with Jeongguk. Mostly because he can talk about their passion for different cuts of meat. But also because he sees the way that your âboyfriendâ takes care of you in the most subtle ways ăź by virtue, itâs the act of noticing.Â
Jeongguk walks you through the crowds of people with a guiding hand on your lower back. He fixes your hair when it falls loose in front of your face. He refills your cup with your favorite drink without ever having to ask. He canât stop talking about how grateful he is to have a chance with you ăź how youâre so beautiful and smart and the only thing he ever wants. Thereâs obviously love and intention in Jeonggukâs eyes whenever he looks at you. Anyone could see that. To be loved is to be known, and Jeongguk knows you like the back of his hand.Â
You can feel the pressure of having to prove your relationship when all of the girls gather around, asking invasive questions. How did you convince y/n to go out with you? We almost lost hope for the poor girl. Have you all hung out as a family yet? What does Minji think of your relationship?Â
For some reason, it feels like youâre back in high school, listening to locker room gossip. It feels as if theyâre judging you. Theyâre laughing at you. But time and time again, Jeongguk defends you and your honor. Not because you need his help, but because you love the safety and security of his words.
âI donât appreciate you being passive aggressive. Because to me, y/n is the most precious person in the world. If you have something you want to say, then just say it to my face.â He bites back without ever breaking eye contact. He rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. Itâs equal parts intimidating and the most attractive thing you have ever seen.Â
All the girls seem to agree when they swallow a trace of spit and nod their heads in obedience. âSorry, we just wanted to say that youâre both so lucky to find one another.â They drop the subject, but only for a little while.Â
Throughout the party, Jeongguk holds you close because he knows how nervous you were to come, and rightfully so. You told him how scared you were to introduce him to all of your friends (he doesnât see why they deserve that title when theyâre nothing but mean girls). Nevertheless, youâre frightened because your relationship with Jeongguk is sacred. Untainted. Unconventional, yes. But itâs protected because only you know about the depths of your bond. After tonight, everything will change. Having your âfriendsâ witness your love so openly feels as if you have to give up another piece of yourself. After making this public knowledge, nothing could ever fully be yours.
But this moment right here is yours to keep, yours to hold, and yours to cherish. Jeon Jeongguk is in your arms, and all you can do is make it known that you are in love.Â
âWhatever they say, ignore them, okay? Just look at me.â His arm wraps around your waist, and you relax in his hold. The stars in his eyes keep you captivated, and everything else is long forgotten. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, scared that if he were to go up one decibel, it would burst the little bubble that youâve created for yourselves. Perhaps you would disappear if he says your name any louder, and he would wake up to realize that his dream girl is nothing but a figment of his imagination.Â
But thereâs nothing about this relationship thatâs fake. Your brother can see it all. Although you havenât hung out with him in ages, heâs very intrigued with the man hanging off of your arm. âJeongguk, when did you realize that y/n was the one?âÂ
âStop, we just started dating.â You smack the back of Sanâs head. But Jeongguk isnât one to shy away from the question.Â
âWell, itâs a funny story. The first time I saw her, I thought I had to talk to her. A few months ago, I dropped my daughter off at the daycare. When I walked past the door, I tripped on my own two feet. I saw y/n reading a story at the front of the class. She was so elegant, graceful, and just so, so gorgeous. My first thought was that she is the most incredible person Iâve ever seen.â Jeongguk tells the story without ever taking his eyes off of you. Itâs as if youâre the only person in the whole world. Thereâs a beaming smile stretched across his face. His dimples are carved into his cheeks.Â
âMinji, my daughter, she has a tendency to cry when Iâm not there. So when she bursted into tears, y/n asked if she wanted to sit with her and help her read. She put my daughter on her lap, and instantly, Minny stopped crying.
âFor weeks, I tried to work up the courage to approach her. I visited as much as I could. I borrowed more materials than I could even finish, and eventually, I had a pile of overdue books sitting in my apartment. When y/n wasnât busy with the daycare, she worked at the front desk. I thought she might say something about my outstanding charges, but she never did. At that point, I wanted to talk to her so bad, but I was so foolish. I started bringing cups of coffee into the library, thinking that she would yell at me for breaking the rules.âÂ
âDid it work? Why didnât you just say something?â San wonders.Â
âI wasnât sure what to say. I didnât think she was interested. She barely looked at me. Never tried to initiate small talk,â Jeongguk shrugs.Â
Avoiding eye contact is exactly how you show interest in someone. Is there any other way to do it? You had been so nervous to even glance in his general direction! Men donât ever give you affection, especially not men as gorgeous as Jeongguk. It just felt so wrong to even think about crushing on him.Â
âBut one day, y/n approached me first by some miracle, and I was so shocked. I- I just thought she was an angel. My daughter was at her side. We talked. One thing led to another. The next thing I knew, I was stressing about what outfit to wear and buying flowers so I could pick her up for a coffee date. I donât even know how to explain it. Everything just fell into place.âÂ
You were convinced that Jeongguk had never noticed you before you approached him that fateful day in the non-fiction aisle. But it rings true that Minji had cried some months ago during reading time. You recall all of the details, albeit vaguely. Had Jeongguk been watching all this time? Did he really borrow an excessive amount of books and purposely buy illicit coffee just to get your attention?Â
Thereâs a soft smile that plays on your lips, and Jeongguk is certain that youâre a real life angel. âI hope you know that I waived your overdue fees every single time,â you confess.Â
âŚ
At some point in the night, you and Jeongguk ended up separating in the most nightmarish of ways. Your coworkers had looped their arms around yours and pulled you away for some girl talk.Â
Meanwhile Jeongguk is at the other end of the hall, playing billiards with all of the other men. He socializes with them as if itâs effortless. He tells them jokes and makes them chuckle, but of course, his laugh is the one that stands out to you the most. Heâs enchanting, and you are all but a moth drawn to a flame. He lights up every room he walks into, shining brighter than anything youâve ever seen.
As you watch Jeongguk have his own fun, you check out of the conversation, barely listening to what Yumi has to say. You couldnât quite relate to the stories that theyâve shared about their partners ăź being engaged, moving in together, trying for children, having sex.Â
ây/n, how big is your boyfriend?âÂ
You ponder the question. âUhm, I donât know his weight exactlyâŚâÂ
âNo, no, sweetie, I mean how big is his dick?âÂ
Your eyes widen in surprise as you shake your head. âWe havenât actually done anything yet. Our relationship is new, yâknow. Also, I donât think thatâs any of your business-âÂ
âYou mean you havenât even seen him naked? Surely youâve touched him when youâve made out, right?â Their eyes widen when you shake your head no, trying to sputter a retort.Â
âEven if youâre taking it slow, you must know what he likes in bed, right? Spitting? Choking? Spanking? A little bit of roleplay? Does he like to be called daddy?â
You, yourself, nearly choke on your own drink.Â
âMost couples get intimate because- I hate to break it to you-â Yumi leans closer to you until her voice is all but a whisper. âAll men have needs. If they arenât met, then he might break up with you and look for satisfaction elsewhere.âÂ
You donât know why you would believe Yumiâs words despite Jeonggukâs constant reassurance of how much you mean to him. Sheâs so fucking infuriating, but could she be right? Does Jeongguk see other women when youâre not around? Does he ever tell you that youâre pretty just for the performance of being a married couple? Has everything he said in the past few weeks been an act? Surely, you donât know everything about this man, but would he ever lie to you? You bite the inside of your cheek as you anxiously pick on the skin around your nails, thinking about her advice.Â
Seemingly, Jeongguk doesnât know what the conversation is about. But he doesnât need to be familiar with the details to know that youâre growing anxious. He can see it from the way you fiddle with your hands. From the way you furrow your brows and chew on your lips. From down the hall, he can pick up on your breathing. He can practically hear the hurricane of thoughts swirling around your head.
Before you can drown in your thoughts, Jeongguk makes his way over to you, nursing a glass of champagne in his hand. âHi, angel.â He whispers against your jaw. His cheeks are flushed pink as his head rests against the crook of your neck, slotting together like two pieces of a puzzle. âDo you want to get out of here? You can stay over at my place tonight if you want,â he offers. Â
âWhatâs wrong? Does it hurt?â You shift your gaze to the gash on his brow. Even when you donât feel your best, youâre still concerned for those around you. Thatâs just the person you are. Youâre so used to giving yourself away.Â
âKind of,â he says. But it hurts more knowing that youâre not okay.Â
You ruffle your hands through his hair, trying to soothe his ache. âDo you want your painkillers?â
âJust want you.â His deep voice rumbles against your collarbone as he presses a shy kiss to your shoulder. âCome on, letâs go home.â He gently grabs your hand in his and leads you out the front door. You donât even have a chance to say goodbye to all the guests. Quite frankly, you donât even care.Â
The moment you return to Jeonggukâs apartment, you dart to the medicine cabinet, filling a glass of water and instructing him to swallow the morphine pill. To soothe the pain, you apply some ointment onto his injury and gently blow on his gash, hoping that it doesnât leave a scar to mar his beautiful face. But you avoid eye contact with him as much as you can. All while Jeongguk stares at your pretty lips and your glittery eyes. You look so cute when youâre concerned. A pout rests on your face, and he wants nothing more than to kiss it better.Â
But then you bid him goodnight, rushing into the guest room, pacing back and forth behind closed doors.Â
Jeongguk sits in the living room, stunned, wondering if heâs done something wrong. Whether his breath smells, or maybe heâs come on too strong. Is it obvious how much he cares for you? Yet a part of him wants you to know, even if you donât reciprocate. To love you so freely is enough for him.Â
For you, the problem is not Jeongguk. Itâs the fact that you canât stop thinking about the conversation from earlier in the night. Yumiâs voice echoes through your thoughts. All men have needs. If they arenât met, then he might break up with you and look for satisfaction elsewhere.
A part of you needs Jeongguk to tell you that this isnât true. Your heart and mind may not be able to rest otherwise. So for the sake of your fake relationship, you put on a brave face and patter down the hall to his room.Â
âŚ
The soft knock on Jeonggukâs door draws his attention away from the vanity. As soon as he tells you to come in, you hesitantly enter his bedroom.Â
His back is turned as he faces the mirror, heedlessly applying his skincare. âWhatâs up? Do you need anything?â He spins around to meet you with curiosity written on his face.Â
You catch a glimpse of his exposed chest, and your cheeks heats up in recognition. The top three buttons of his shirt are undone, seeing that heâs getting ready for bed. He removes his rings and the silver watch from his wrist.Â
âSorry, I- I didnât know you were indecent.â You turn your head away, avoiding his strong build ăź the biceps that bulge beneath his shirt and the muscles that flex with every movement. Your hand shoots up to hide your face in embarrassment.Â
He finds it adorable how flustered you get upon seeing a little bit of skin. Still, he makes no effort to button up his shirt. Because thatâs all that it is ăź just skin.Â
You swallow the lump in your throat, and your eyes flicker to the floor as if the rug is the most interesting thing in the world. âCan we talk about something?âÂ
âTalk?â He approaches the bed, patting the spot beside him. âCome here, what do you want to talk about?âÂ
You perch yourself onto the mattress bouncing up and down from the weight of the springs. Jeongguk sidles closer to you. His knees knock against yours. He smells like jasmine and musk, and itâs divine.Â
âAt the party, the girls were talking about relationships,â you begin. Â
He hums with a nod, attentive as ever. Jeongguk looks at you as if youâre the only person in the world, but you donât seem to notice, too preoccupied with anything else but the intensity of his eyes.Â
âWhat did they say?â He wonders, readjusting your necklace so the pendant sits pretty on your neck.Â
âYâknow.â You tug on your fingers, finding something to fiddle with. âThe usual stuff.â
He reaches for your hands, instantly halting your movements. Soothing your nerves, he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He knows that you must have mustered a lot of courage to come over and bring this up. âAngel, you have to use your words if you want to tell me whatâs on your mind.âÂ
You grow bashful under his touch, but thatâs exactly the problem. âThey talked about stuff like this.â You squeeze his palms for emphasis. âHolding hands. Touching. Skinship.â You mumble the last part, too shy to say it out loud: âKissing.â Turning your cheek towards him, you murmur an apology. âSorry. You make me nervous.âÂ
Jeongguk doesnât fail to notice the way your tongue licks the plump of your lips or the way your throat constricts after swallowing a trace of spit. âNervous? Câmere- look at me.âÂ
His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. Itâs authoritative, and you canât help but follow his orders.Â
âIâm not familiar with being this close to someone,â you motion at the lack of space between his body and yours. âI wouldnât want you to be upset with me if Iâm not very affectionate.âÂ
âAngel, Iâd never be upset with you. We can do whatever you want at your own pace.â
âAre you sure youâd never leave me if-â
Jeongguk stops your train of thought before allowing your mind to wander to a dark place. His voice hardens upon hearing such a suggestion. âI never want to even think about that possibility because Iâm not letting you go. Iâm yours no matter what. Youâll actually have to fight me if you want to push me away. Even then, Iâd crawl right back to you.â He truly means every single word that he utters.Â
Thereâs a hint of a smile on your lips. âSorry. Intimacy is really scary for me,â you confess, hesitating. Jeongguk gives you another moment to collect your thoughts. Heâd give you as long as you need, even if itâs a lifetime and all the stars in the night sky have burnt out.Â
âBut another reason I want to talk to you is because Iâm concerned this wonât come across as a real marriage if weâre physically distant, yâknow? The girls said that itâs normal for couples to be⌠intimate.â
Jeongguk doesnât say anything, at least not immediately. He doesnât react. His eyes are distracted by your mouth ăź the way your gloss clings onto your lips and the way it moves so languidly with every word you articulate.Â
âJeongguk- Love?â
The sound of his name never really meant much to him. After all, itâs just an alias. Yet nothing sets him aflame more than the claim that you have on him ăź the way that your lips purse when you call him your love.
âI know this sounds silly-â you begin.Â
He shakes his head, brows furrowed, effectively wiping away all of your insecurities. âNever.âÂ
A naive grin spreads across your face. How could you be so foolish to believe that Jeongguk would make you feel anything less than important? Time and time again, he makes you feel heard. He makes you feel seen.
âGo on,â he urges. âTell me.âÂ
âWell, I read an article about how looking into your partnerâs eyes for a long period of time increases intimacy. It also builds trust and helps to recognize emotion.â Itâs ironic how you explain all of this while avoiding his eyes. Instead, you keep them trained on the scar sitting pretty and kissable on his cheek.Â
A dimpled smile spreads across Jeonggukâs face. âOkay, we can try,â he agrees. He reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and you think you might pass away. âBut angel, you have to face me if weâre going to do this. I want you to be comfortable.âÂ
âRight, yeah,â you mumble. âOf course.â Shuffling from the edge of the bed, you turn to face your husband. You tuck your feet beneath your butt and sit on your knees.
âRelax, okay? Thereâs no need to be nervous around me.â His voice is reassuring. Itâs heartwarming.Â
You nod your head as you will yourself to meet his gaze. âI can do this. I can do this,â you think to yourself.Â
Jeonggukâs pupils glimmer in the lowlight, warm and comforting, and you wonder how anyone could be so handsome. You try to focus on the task at hand, but itâs difficult when he, himself, is so distracting. Thereâs a beauty mark on his cheek. His jaw. His nose. Beneath his lip. You could trace them all day and night, if only heâd let you.Â
Jeonggukâs deep voice cuts through the night. âIs there anything else that you want to try?âÂ
âM- maybe we could hold hands?âÂ
âWeâve held hands before.â He laces his fingers between yours so effortlessly, his hand engulfing.Â
Your breath hitches in your throat.Â
âDoes it still make you nervous?â He wonders.Â
âA little bit,â you glance at how small your hand looks in his. âBut I can get used to it.âÂ
âCan I suggest something?âÂ
You nod, agreeing. âAnything.âÂ
He tilts his head to the side, raising a brow, unconvinced. âAnything? Are you sure?âÂ
You nod with more confidence. âIâll tell you if I donât like it.âÂ
âThen can I hold you?â
You hesitate for a second, unsure of what that entails. A beat goes by when Jeongguk is prepared to tell you that youâre free to say no. But you wipe that thought away, giving him your full consent.
Not a second passes by before he wraps his tattooed arms around your waist, tugging you onto his lap. Your thighs rest on either side of his hips, straddling him.
A squeak ăź a fucking squeak. God, how much cuter can you get? ăź slips past your lips. Theyâre swollen from how you nervously tug on the flesh, tethering it between your teeth.Â
âDoes this feel better?â Thereâs a sense of longing that drips from Jeonggukâs honeyed voice.Â
âItâs⌠nice.â Your brain is on the verge of malfunctioning and shutting down upon feeling the heat of his skin against yours. âBetter.â Your voice is breathy. Itâs self preservation. You exhale deeply in an attempt to calm the flutter of your heart.Â
To keep yourself occupied, you trace your fingers across your bare thighs, unsure of what to do with them. Jeongguk had let go of your hands in favor of holding your hips. So you play with the hem of your dress thatâs currently riding up your legs. Suddenly, youâre very aware of how little youâre wearing. How your skin is burning beneath his fingertips.Â
Jeonggukâs body is radiating, and you can feel the heat between your legs grow, the dampness in your underwear spreading.Â
âYou can touch me if you want,â he offers.Â
Youâre not as confident as Jeongguk, but oh, how you wish you were.Â
âDo you want to?â He senses your hesitation, yet you nod your head, affirming.
âI do,â you bite the inside of your cheek. âI want to touch you- feel you.âÂ
Jeongguk wraps his fingers around your wrists, bringing your hands to rest on his broad shoulders. Theyâre muscular beneath your touch. You curse yourself for letting your mind wander and for letting your panties soak with arousal ăź neither of which you can control.Â
Somehow, you resist the urge to look down at his physique. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to the elbows, revealing his strong forearms, adorned by the dark tattoos that coil up his muscles. Your gaze darts across his features, struggling to focus on the starlight in his eyes. You switch between the edge of his jaw, the dip of his neck, and the plump of his lips.Â
âMy eyes are up here, angel.â The corner of his mouth draws into a smile ăź so bright and devastatingly beautiful. He hooks a gentle hand beneath your chin, guiding you to meet his stare. âTell me what youâre thinking about. Whatâs going on in that pretty head of yours?âÂ
Your voice is soft, just barely above a whisper. Itâs nearly inaudible. âThinking about what it would be like to kiss you.âÂ
The innocence of your words makes Jeongguk blush. Heâs never been the type to be so easily affected. After all, heâs the bold one in the relationship ăź confident, decisive, dominant. But you make him weak in the knees.
âYou donât have to ask permission to kiss me.â Jeongguk inches closer, considerate hands squeezing around your waist. âYouâre my wife.âÂ
Why does the thought of belonging to Jeongguk make your heart stutter? Youâre certain that this is nothing but pretend, yet the only thing that makes you believe this could be real is the soothing circles that Jeongguk draws onto your skin. Heâs present. Heâs willing. His lips are right there, right in front of you. You could take the leap of faith and close the distance, leaning forward to kiss him.Â
So you do.Â
When your lips meet, itâs as if the rest of the world has gone silent. Time has stopped, and nothing else matters but the two of you at this moment.Â
His lips are pillowy soft against yours. He tastes like champagne and mint. Heâs gentle, only applying as much pressure as you do. You melt into his touch, feeling featherlight in his hold. His hands grip your waist so delicately, with love and intention, as if you are the most precious thing in his eyes.Â
You pull apart to catch your breath, allowing the air to fill your lungs, regretfully so. If you were to drown, you would want to drown in Jeon Jeongguk. Your eyes flutter open, but you canât seem to look at anything but his cherry lips.Â
âLoveâŚâ The term of endearment leaves your lips in a pant, and he grows harder beneath you. âThis is going to sound so embarrassingâŚâ Your voice trails off as the heat engulfs your entire body. Your head lowers, feeling self-conscious of your actions.Â
Jeongguk nuzzles his nose against your neck as he presses tender kisses on your collarbone. âWhat is it? You can tell me anything.âÂ
Your fingernails dig into his strong shoulders, squeezing his taut muscles as you muster the courage to tell him the truth. âThat was my first kiss.âÂ
He peers up at you from beneath his long eyelashes. âThatâs nothing to be embarrassed about.â Jeongguk shakes his head, squeezing your waist with reassurance.Â
Your eyes are half lidded as you murmur a quiet confession, âI want to kiss you again.â Normally, you wouldnât dare to be so bold, but you feel drunk on his taste.
âYou can do whatever you want to me.â Jeongguk draws you closer, dragging your core onto the apex of his thighs, thick and sturdy. âI like anything that you like. Kissing you. Holding you. Just looking at you,â he shrugs. âAnd if it wasnât obvious enough⌠I like you.âÂ
Jeon Jeongguk makes you absolutely breathless. âAr- are we still pretending?âÂ
âNever.â Leaning forward, he brushes his mouth against yours. âI have never once pretended with you.âÂ
You kiss him back with more fervor, desperate and wanting. Youâre more confident now, fully knowing that Jeongguk wants this as much as you do.Â
âWhen you said I could do whateverâŚâ You pull back, thinking about Jeonggukâs previous statement.
He nods his head with the most innocent beam on his face. âI mean it.â
God, you feel like such a pervert. Youâve shared your first kiss with him, something so sweet and innocent. Why couldnât that be enough for you? Youâre sitting on his lap, feeling the broad planes of his chest, and you canât stop thinking about what it would be like to do more. To feel more.Â
Youâre ridden with guilt, drowning in your own arousal, but Jeongguk is so kind. Heâs understanding. Heâs staring at you as if youâre his whole world. He would never dare to objectify you because heâs a gentleman. But⌠What if you want him to?Â
âThe girls at the party were also talking aboutâŚâ Your words begin to trail.Â
âAbout what?â You subconsciously trace circles onto his shoulders, distracting yourself from the conversation, not knowing that Jeonggukâs eyes flutter close because he adores the drag of your nails and the subtle warmth of your fingertips.Â
âAbout⌠doing it.â Your words come out in a hushed whisper. It feels too inappropriate to say it out loud. Yet you donât dare to mention how your panties are absolutely ruined.Â
âAngel, what did we talk about?â His lips press against your shoulder, at any inch of skin that he can reach. âYou have to be more specific.â
Jeongguk has never once made you feel ashamed or embarrassed. He has never laughed at you or told you that youâre being silly. So why is it so difficult to tell him that you want him ăź Need him?Â
You take the leap of faith because this is your partner ăź in life, in death, and in crime. This is Jeongguk. Your one and only lover who never fails to remind you that you are the strongest woman in the world. He who delivers nutritious lunch boxes to you and tucks cute notes into the lid because he knows that they make you smile. Jeon Jeongguk who massages the knots out of your shoulders after a secret night of combat. He who gets pouty when you call him anything other than âlove.â
Thereâs no need to hide anything from this man. Heâs your home, just as you are his.
âThey talked about sex⌠You know⌠making love. â The crude word sounds so wrong leaving your lips. So out of place. Itâs dirty, and itâs naughty. âThey said all couples do it, but weâve neverâŚâÂ
âDo you want to do it because you want to, or is it because your friends told you to?â Jeongguk searches your eyes for clarification. âBecause if you feel pressured when youâre not ready-â
âNo! I do!â You cling onto his shirt with more urgency. âI want to do it ăź with you. I trust you.â You lean closer, brushing your lips against his ear. âYouâre my husband.âÂ
Jeongguk groans at the sound of your words. At the way your fingernails scratch down his chest. At the way you sit so pretty and perfect on top of his lap, pressing your weight into his erection.Â
He gulps as if this is the first time heâs ever been nervous in his life. âWhy donât you take off my shirt?âÂ
âC- can I?â you stutter.Â
âLike I said, you can do whatever you want to me. Youâre my wife, and Iâm yours.â He presses his lips against your brow. âYours to hold. To kiss. To love.â He kisses your nose. Your chin. Your jaw. He tucks your hair behind your ears and whispers. âIâm yours to make love to.âÂ
With trembling fingers, you reach for the button that barely holds Jeonggukâs shirt together.Â
His hand engulfs yours. âDonât forget to breathe, in and out, okay?â Jeongguk, patient as ever, waits for your respiration to steady. âYouâre safe with me. If you want to stop, just say the word.âÂ
With each button undone, his shirt falls apart, revealing Jeonggukâs toned abs. As glorious as he is, your eyes are drawn to the scar on the side of his stomach, barely covered by the fabric that hangs off his back. The scar is jagged, and the skin is raised, the tissue is puckered at the edges.Â
âWha- what happened here?â Your fingertips reach down to trace over the scar, but before you make contact, you pull away.Â
âYou can touch it-â Jeongguk reaffirms. âWherever you want. Iâm yours.âÂ
Jeonggukâs breath hitches in his throat when your cold hands lightly graze the rough texture, feeling the ghost of his past. But he knows how youâll respect his boundaries no matter what, and he relaxes, fully knowing that youâll take care of him.Â
âI had surgery when I was younger.â Jeongguk lies. âThey took out my appendix.âÂ
Your brows furrow. Thereâs no reason not to believe him, but why is the scar so jagged and uneven? Certain parts are wider than others as if the surgeon had twisted a large blade into his abdomen, and not simply sliced to gain access to his organs.Â
As usual, Jeongguk can read the concern written on your face. âItâs okay, it didnât hurt much.â The curve of his lips settle into a warm and reassuring smile. âI promise.âÂ
Jeongguk doesnât express any discomfort about his scar, yet you canât help but wonder what kind of horrors he had to live through.Â
To ease your mind, Jeongguk pulls you into his body and presses his hands beneath your thighs.Â
A yelp escapes from your lips as he lifts you up. Youâre chest to chest with him, legs wrapping around his waist. He presses your back down to the mattress, settling your head onto one of the pillows at the bedpost.Â
He hovers above you, a hair's breadth away.Â
âHi,â he whispers against your lips. âYou look so stunning.â
You grow shy with all the attention that Jeongguk feeds you. âHi,â you whisper back. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist.Â
âCan I take this off?â Jeongguk glides a finger beneath the strap of your dress.
Thereâs a rush in your head, feeling dizzy upon nodding your head with so much vigor.Â
His lips pair with yours in a quick kiss before calling you a good girl. He shifts his weight off of you so that he can tug you into an upright position and peel the dress off.Â
Jeonggukâs eyes widen at your bare chest, having omitted a bra so as to not ruin the outfit. His throat goes dry, and heâs having trouble forming words in his head. Youâve never seen him so speechless.Â
Subconsciously, you raise your arms to cover your chest.Â
âNo, no, no, donât do that.â Jeongguk wraps his fingers around your wrists, pressing a smooch to your delicate skin. âYouâre so pretty like this. Donât ever hide from me, okay?âÂ
His words make you shiver. Having someone dote on you as much as Jeongguk is something youâre not used to. But thatâs exactly why youâre here, right? So you nod your head and let him pin your hands to the mattress before leading a trail of kisses down your body.
Curious fingers speak freely against your skin, exploring every inch of you. He takes note of every gasp, giggle, and moan that escapes your lips. He presses his swollen lips to your sensitive spots until you keen louder for him, desperately begging for more. His lips wrap around your nipple, sucking on the bud until you whimper. Heâs a drooling mess over your tits as he leaves a trail of saliva, marking your skin and claiming you as his.Â
Jeongguk furthers his descent down your tummy, placing sweet kisses against the waistband of your panties. He reaches down to feel the leather strap around your upper thigh. Itâs the holster that you use to sheathe your knife, and thank God you disarmed before stepping into Jeonggukâs bedroom.Â
âI use it to hold my pepper spray,â you murmur a half-ass excuse. âSome of my clothes have shallow pockets.âÂ
Jeongguk smiles against your skin as he ghosts his lips against your soft thighs. He doesnât think much of it, but he does think itâs really hot. So he doesnât bother to unstrap as he continues to worship your body.Â
What catches his attention is not the way youâve soaked through your underwear, as arousing as it is. But rather, heâs intrigued by the faint mark on the outside of your thigh. Itâs not a regular, old scar. To Jeongguk, itâs oddly familiar because itâs what appears to be an old bullet wound.Â
Jeongguk stutters in disbelief, eyes wide. âWhatâs this? W- were you sho-â He tries to mentally collect himself as he settles on a choice of words. âWere you hurt? Who hurt you?â
You look down, noticing the circular scar on your outer thigh before shaking it off. âItâs nothing. It was from an injection.âÂ
âAre you sure? It looks li- It looked serious.â His voice trembles with concern, hands fisting at his sides.Â
You pull him up by the collar of his undone shirt, hanging off his broad shoulders. Your lips meet his in a delicate, comforting kiss. Jeongguk visibly relaxes in your hold. Â
âIâm fine, really. I just want you.â You claw his shoulders in an attempt to peel the rest of the fabric off.Â
Jeongguk sighs, trying to forget about what he had seen. But heâs certain that his mind will wander back to the scar at another point in time. He strips the shirt off his back, carelessly tossing the fabric onto the floor.Â
Jeon Jeongguk is mesmerizing. Youâve never seen the entirety of his sleeve, but there it is, in all its glory. Thereâs a faint beauty mark on his chest, one that you did not account for when tracing all of the scars and marks on his upper body.Â
âTell me you want me,â his breath is hot and heavy against yours.Â
Subconsciously, you clench at the sound of his words. âGuk- I want you more than anything.â Your hands float down to the buckle of his jeans as you unclasp the button. âYouâre wearing too much. Take it off.â The plea that falls from your lips is breathy and desperate.Â
âFuck-â Jeongguk curses, trying to restrain himself.
Jeongguk has slept with plenty of women before, but never like this. Heâs always had one night stands with an ulterior motive, whether it is for leverage or intel or for the sole purpose of converting an innocent woman into a whistleblower. Heâs fucked with media journalists, cabinet members, and even the wives of politicians. He isnât proud of it, but women, just like everyone else, are more likely to say things they donât mean when their desires are fulfilled. Theyâre willing to trust him and spill their secrets when theyâre lost in the throes of pleasure ăź when he hands over his lust and his attention. Itâs transactional.Â
Jeongguk has always thought that love is cheap. But not with you.Â
With you, Jeongguk has the innate need to take his time. He wants to show you what it means to make love.Â
He hooks his hand beneath your panties, pulling them down your legs. Thereâs a string of arousal that breaks when he tugs the fabric off. Itâs absolutely soaked in your arousal. Jeonggukâs lips press against every inch of your skin, leaving no spot untouched.Â
You shudder when his hot breath meets your inner thighs, threatening to close them. He wraps his thick arms around your legs, digging his fingers into your hips, pinning you to the mattress.Â
He keeps his eyes trained on your face as you tremble beneath his touch. He kitten licks your clit, careful as to not overwhelm you. But you quickly melt into the pillows, gripping his hair between your fingers.
Jeongguk wants to commit this to memory. The way that you look so angelic in this light.Â
Quiet whimpers escape from your parted lips. âYou donât have to hold back,â he reminds you. âBe as loud as you want. Nobodyâs home. We have all the time in the world, and I want you to feel good.âÂ
He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking softly on the bundle of nerves until youâre writhing against his mouth. Soon enough, you grind your hips, practically riding his face like a needy slut, desperate and wanting.Â
The moans slip out of your mouth freely, and Jeongguk grows harder at how pretty you are, lost in pleasure. He begins to rut his hips against the mattress, seeking some kind of relief for his aching cock.Â
His tongue slips between your walls, licking up the arousal that seeps down your thighs. His chin is coated in your wetness, and heâs utterly obsessed with your taste.Â
Your nails dig into his hair, pulling on the roots. He elicits a moan against your core, and youâre muttering apologies, âsorry, âm sorry.â Yet you continue to grind your cunt against his tongue, proving that youâre not sorry at all. Â
Your grip loosens, but Jeongguk whines at the loss of tension. âFeels good, angel, donât stop.âÂ
He quickly grabs your hands and places them on the top of his head, encouraging you to tug as hard as you want. Heâs obsessed with your taste, but heâs also addicted to the pain that you inflict on him.Â
He dips his tongue between your walls, reaching as far as he can go. He smiles against your core as if heâs the one enjoying himself ăź and truly, he is. He canât get enough of you. Jeongguk loves to bury his face into your sweet pussy, making out with your cunt. His chin is doused in your essence, and he wants more. He needs to see you dripping in cum so he can taste you straight from the source.Â
âGuk, it feels weird,â you choke on your words, pressing your hands against your tummy. The tears cascade down your cheeks as your high builds in the pit of your stomach.
âShh, shh, angel,â he hushes before dropping a thick glob of spit onto your entrance. He canât believe that youâve never come in your life. Have you never played with your cute little cunt before?Â
Jeongguk laps your clit while he works a finger into you, gliding between your tight walls. He pushes another one in, watching you stretch around his digits. In the back of his mind, he wonders how youâll be able to take his cock when you can hardly take his fingers. He curls them inside of you, slowly adding a third.Â
You will yourself to pick your head up, allowing your gaze to meet his. The sight before you is filthy beyond belief. You canât believe that Jeongguk is making out with your naughty pussy, and you love it. His fingers are gliding inside of you, reaching places youâve never reached before. Heâs humping the mattress, trying to satiate his throbbing cock thatâs leaking through his boxers.Â
âGuk- love, I-â
âJust let go. Come for me,â his husky voice vibrates against your cunt.Â
At the sound of his command, you unravel on his tongue, shuddering beneath his strong hold. Your cunt pulses as waves of pleasure rip through you. Soft moans flow through your parted lips, and itâs suddenly Jeonggukâs new favorite melody.Â
He watches you fall apart with hearts in his eyes. His hands wrap around your thighs, holding you in place as he fucks you through your climax. Youâve never felt a sensation this strong before. It doesnât even compare when youâre high on adrenaline.Â
Yet Jeongguk laps your pussy as if heâs a puppy, so eager to please you as he collects all of your cum on his tongue. He wants you as much as youâll allow. Before the overstimulation sets in, you have to weakly tap his shoulder, pushing him away as your thighs close around his head.Â
He presses a smooch to your clit before finally pulling back. âHow did that feel?âÂ
âNever felt anything like that before,â you gasp, trying to catch your breath. âC- can you show me how to touch you too?â The innocent look in your eyes drives him absolutely mad. âWanna make you feel good.â You palm him through his boxers, and he groans at your touch.Â
Fuck. âTonightâs about you, angel.â Jeongguk curses at himself because you look so pretty batting your eyelashes at him. Youâre practically begging to suck him off, and he canât bring himself to say yes. Your hands dip beneath his underwear, gliding your hands up and down his throbbing cock.Â
Jeongguk thinks that he might be in heaven. âArenât you too tired? Iâve already made you come once.âÂ
But you shake your head, âI want more, please? I can take it. Will you please give it to me?â
âI- I donât have a condom,â he confesses.Â
âDonât care, I need you.â Your hands roam across the planes of his chest before settling on the back of his neck. You pull him closer until your lips brush against his. âNeed you so badâŚâ You subconsciously roll your hips, grinding your bare cunt against his thigh, pleading ăź begging for him to sink his cock inside of you to relieve the ache. âIt hurts,â you murmur.Â
What else is Jeongguk supposed to do when his baby is aching, begging and pleading for his help? So he pulls his cock out of his boxers, tossing the offensive material out of the way. Your mouth waters as your eyes meet his length.Â
âItâs not gonna fit,â you shake your head. Surely, he could split you open with his sheer girth. âYouâre too big.â
Jeongguk wraps his hand around his length, jerking himself off before pressing the length of his thick cock onto your stomach, measuring how deep he could possibly go. The pretty tip rests against your belly button. Jeon Jeongguk could actually break you, and you would let him.Â
âAre you sure you want to do this? We can stop-âÂ
You shake your head with desperate vigor, and your imploring hands reach for his broad shoulders. âJust- just go slow, okay?â
Jeongguk pairs his lips with yours in a sweet kiss, âIâll take care of you. I promise.â He releases a thick glob of spit onto your cunt before rubbing the tip of his cock against your core, spreading the sloppy mess across your mound. He drags his tip against your lips before slowly pushing into your soaked cunt.Â
You gasp upon feeling the intrusion, squeezing your eyes shut.Â
Jeongguk nibbles the column of your neck, whispering quiet praises against your skin to distract you from the discomfort. He looks down to see barely half of his length tucked inside of you, yet your walls are stretched to accommodate him. At the pit of your stomach, thereâs a bulge where the tip of his cock prods against your cunt. It protrudes against your tummy, leaving an indentation. He can quite literally watch his dick plow into you.
âAngel, look at how well you take me,â he groans.Â
You will yourself to open your eyes, seeing how he stuffs you to the brim. The visual is so filthy.Â
âGod, Iâve been dreaming of this.â Jeongguk drops another glob of spit where his length meets your cunt, allowing the glide to be more effortless. The way that your pretty pussy struggles to make room for him is the hottest thing heâs ever seen. His eyes roll back as he squeezes your waist, trying to regain an ounce of composure.Â
âYouâve been thinking about this? About us?â You clench upon hearing his deepest desires.Â
He curses under his breath, not knowing how much longer heâd last if youâre already this tight wrapped around his cock. âYou have no idea-â When he rests his head against your shoulder, panting, another inch sinks inside of you. âSorry, âm sorry. You just feel so fucking good.âÂ
His rough hands wander across your body, mapping every inch of your skin, committing it to memory. Jeongguk taps his fingers against your lips as he requests you to âopen up.â As obedient as you are, you part your lips, allowing him to slip his digits inside.
âSuck on my fingers,â he coos as he pushes himself further into your sweet pussy. âThatâs my good girl.â He pulls his calloused fingers out of your mouth, and they find home onto your clit as he rubs figure eights onto your bundle of nerves. It serves as a distraction from the slight sting of resistance where his cock stretches your walls.Â
But for Jeongguk, this feels like heaven. He resists the urge to sheathe himself into your virgin cunt, down to the hilt. âCanât believe that I get to see you like this.âÂ
Jeongguk seriously canât believe how fortunate he is that heâs your first. Nobody has ever touched you the way that Jeongguk does. Nobody will ever fuck you or make you come the way that he will. And certainly, nobody will ever get to see you act like a desperate little slut. You belong to Jeongguk just as he belongs to you. And this is the privilege he gets when youâre his wife.Â
You watch his face twist in concentration as he works himself into you. His biceps bulge, and his skin dimples beneath the pressure of your fingers when you squeeze his arm. They feel so rock solid beneath your touch. So strong and so, so reliable like the Jeongguk you know and love. You whimper simply because heâs hot, and you could never resist him.Â
âS- something wrong?â He stills his hips inside of you, and his cock pulses.Â
âN- no,â you whine, shaking your head. âJust wanna hold your hand.â You scratch down his biceps as you paw at his chest. Even when heâs buried inside of you, itâs still not enough. You need him, and you need all of him.Â
He grabs both of your hands, softly squeezing them as he pins them on either side of your head. Jeongguk cages you against the mattress as he presses his body weight against yours, plunging his cock deeper and deeper between your walls, inch by inch.Â
Your chest heaves when his hips press against yours, completely buried inside of you, and a silent cry slips past your lips. Tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes.Â
âJust breathe for me, angel, okay? Relax, ease up for me. I know itâs uncomfortable now, but youâll feel so good, I swear.â
You nod your head, and you canât help but cry. You just feel so full. Two twin tears trail down your cheeks, and Jeongguk is quick to kiss them away.
He soothes his thumb over the back of your hand as he praises you. âYouâre doing so well for me. Such a good girl. You can take it, right? You can take it all for me.âÂ
You nod your head, letting the tears fall down like summer rain. âI can take it, I swear-â You sound so choked up, and itâs probably due to the fact that Jeongguk is so fucking deep, you can practically feel him in your throat.Â
âMove, please, I need you so bad.â The broken sob rips out of your throat as you cry in desperation.
He pulls out with a shallow thrust, wanting to be as close to you as possible. Looking down, he can see where his cock fucks into you, where thereâs a bulge that shadows every single one of his thrusts. He takes your hand down to rub over the protrusion.Â
âCan you feel me? Right here?â He quickly slides out of you before pressing his hips flush against yours in one swift motion.Â
A deep groan rumbles through his chest, sending a deep vibration through your body. His breath is hot against your lips, and you can actually feel him in your tummy. You can feel him everywhere.Â
âHowâs it, angel?âÂ
âFeels full-â you manage to choke the words out of your mouth.Â
âToo much?â Jeongguk asks. His breath is shaky as he plows his hips against yours. His cock twitches inside of you, and he really doesnât want to pull out. But if you had asked, he wouldnât hesitate to do so.Â
Thank God for your insatiability because you shake your head as you bring your intertwined hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to his skin. âFeels good- keep going, please,â you beg.Â
âSee? I knew you could take it like a good girl.âÂ
Soon enough, the discomfort subsides, and all you can feel is pleasure in the pit of your stomach. Jeongguk fucks into you until he bottoms out, prodding at the spot that has you seeing stars. Your eyes begin to cross, obsessed with the way he fills you up, turning you into a stuttering mess.Â
âOh my god, feels sâ good, Guk- Donât stop,â you cry, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist to keep him close.Â
Your mouth falls open and drool begins to slip from the corner of your lips. Jeongguk wedges his tongue into your mouth, swirling your spit and saliva together into one hungry mess.Â
He shifts his attention to your sensitive neck as he sucks on the column of your throat. A mark begins to bloom above your collarbone. If anyone were to doubt your marriage and the fact that you belonged to Jeongguk, there would be no reason to do so now.Â
The only thing you can focus on is the way that Jeongguk pokes your cervix, and you want nothing more but for him to flood your womb. Your heavy lidded eyes fall shut, your head lolls, and your cheek rests against the pillow.Â
But Jeongguk refuses to let you look away. His hand hooks around your jaw, and his fingers dig into your cheek. âLook at me,â he demands. âWant to see you when you come.â He lifts your face off the pillow and presses his lips against yours.Â
Jeongguk gives deep and pointed thrusts into your cunt. He grips your hands so tightly, but you welcome the embrace. His hips snap against yours, rutting into your battered hole as you desperately chase your high.Â
ââm sorry, princess, am I too rough?â He mouths against your lips. âJust f- feels so good around me. So tight nâ warm. Youâre sâ perfect.âÂ
You shake your head in desperation. âN- no, I love it-â You love him. âIâm close,â you cry, overwhelmed with emotions.Â
âCome for me, angel,â he groans into your ear, pressing kisses against your nose, your cheek, your lips. He squeezes your hands, never letting you go.Â
He pounds into you once, twice, three-four times, bullying his cock into you, and you come undone with the rough snap of his hips. You tremble in his arms, feeling this orgasm tenfold compared to the last. Cum begins to seep out of your cunt, drenching Jeonggukâs cock until thereâs a ring of cream at the base of his length.Â
You tight little cunt clenches around him as if you never want him to leave. He finds it hard to breathe when you look so beautiful, so pretty, and just so cute caged beneath him. As much as he wants to come inside of you and stuff you full, Jeongguk is quick to pull out when he feels his climax approach. He glides his cock against your cunt, rutting against your lips. He paints your stomach with ribbons of white cum, groaning at the lewdness of it all.Â
Thoughts of Jeongguk breeding your cunt flashes through your mind ăź having him flood you with cum round after round until you can have a happy little family of four.Â
Obscene images of you doing this again and again in different positions send your mind racing. You want him to bury himself to the hilt with your knees pinned against your chest. If only he could flood your womb as he holds you by the back of your thighs in a mating press. Maybe you can come when youâre on all fours, on your hands and knees. Or you could take him down your throat as deep as you can go, choking and gagging on his length with saliva dribbling out of your lips. Although youâre certain that you could barely take half of him considering his size and your inexperience. But Jeongguk can teach you, and you can practice night after night until he absolutely ruins you.Â
âSo much cum,â you murmur, admiring the liquid that rests on your tummy. You swipe your fingers across your stomach before sticking them in your mouth. Jeonggukâs cock twitches at the sight of you so desperate for a taste.Â
He presses a kiss to your forehead, âHow was it?âÂ
âCan we do it again?â Your eyes glimmer with wishful thinking. Itâs safe to say that you had the best night of your life.Â
Jeongguk sputters a laugh, shaking his head. âLetâs get you cleaned up.âÂ
He carries you to the bathroom, making sure you use the toilet to prevent UTIs. Meanwhile, he runs a bath for you where he lathers lavender shampoo in your hair and rubs the knots from your sore shoulders, down to your hips and legs. Between soft giggles and splashes of water, you share sweet kisses and loving stares. Before your fingers can prune, Jeongguk lifts you out of the tub and dries you off with a warm towel.Â
The two of you tangle beneath the sheets. But before you fall asleep to the sound of one anotherâs heartbeat, you ask Jeongguk the question thatâs been on your mind.Â
âI was just wondering⌠Do you like to be called daddy?âÂ
His lips meet your forehead before tucking you closer to his chest. âGo to sleep, angel. Weâll talk about it tomorrow.âÂ
Jeongguk, in fact, does like to be called daddy among a plethora of other vulgar words. This vital piece of information is not necessary for the Hwa Yang interview, but you tuck that specific fact into the recesses of your brain for future reference.Â
Because the truth is, you donât have enough time to memorize Jeonggukâs life story. You can save that for another day. The Hwa Yang interview is in less than a week, and you have to save all of your brain space for relevant ăź appropriate information. Such as the values of your family and the importance of education in your lives.Â
Thankfully, as Jeonggukâs informant, Seokjin managed to snag sample questions that the interviewers are likely to ask: What type of person do you want your child to grow up to be? What is your childâs school experience like thus far? What are some habits you practice to help your child acclimate to the academic rigor of this school?Â
So Jeongguk, Minji, and you work tirelessly to come up with the perfect answers that give the impression that you are a family exuding elegance. In the eyes of the admissions director, it basically means that you have to rival the royal family.Â
Minji should have interests beyond her plushies and her manhwas, something along the lines of tennis, horseback riding, or crossword puzzles. She has to continue with her studies ăź global history, foreign affairs, music theory, and yes, even her sworn enemy, mathematics. At the mere age of five, she should obtain fluency in a second language (which is apparently really impressive if youâre the royal heir to the British empire).Â
All of this preparation proves to be handy because at the academy, the board of interviewers ask about Minjiâs interests and her hobbies. They want to know what type of learner she is and how she can contribute to the fast paced learning environment.Â
Although Minji is exceptional as she is, you canât help but wonder why a child has to be a prodigy to be deemed as someone worthy of a good education. Whatâs wrong with simply existing? Whatâs wrong with being average? Because if the price of being average is being a decent human being, you would rather take your chances at a different school.Â
The sound of the headmasterâs voice breaks you out of your reverie. âI want to ask Minji what a typical day in the household looks like.â
She straightens her posture upon hearing her name. âI start the day when eomma wakes me up and helps me get ready for kindergarten. She double checks to make sure my homework and my school supplies are in my bag. She also packs extra clothes for me just in case. Appa makes breakfast in the kitchen, and when we finish eating, they walk me to school-âÂ
The headmaster crinkles his brows. A look of confusion crosses his features. âDoes your father always cook for the family?âÂ
âYes, appa usually cooks because eomma works really hard. Sometimes, she comes home with aches and pains because of all the energy she uses.â Minji shifts her gaze to her father, trying to gauge whether her answer is acceptable. Meanwhile, your eyes are filled with concern, worried sheâll somehow expose your criminal history. âBut eomma always helps when she can. She goes to the market, and she does the laundry. She also makes tea for appa and hot chocolate for me. She helps me with my homework even if I donât like fractions.â Minji says the last part in a hushed whisper.Â
âReally? Is your mother someone you aspire to be? Despite your father being the one to prepare your meals? Itâs rather untraditional.âÂ
âI donât believe that question is pertinent to the interview. Itâs quite leading,â Jeongguk states. His voice doesnât falter, but thereâs animosity in every breath that he takes. âI can assure you that my wife is a wonderful mother and role model to our daughter. Now may we please refocus our attention on Minji and her academics?â Jeonggukâs eyebrows furrow, and he is seething. He balls his hands into fists, resisting the urge to throw a right hook at the man across the table.Â
Instinctually, your fingers inch across the settee, reaching for Jeonggukâs hand in order to soothe his nerves. His shoulders relax upon feeling the heat of your skin as if to quietly remind him that everything is okay.Â
âOf course, I apologize.â The headmaster says diplomatically before jotting down a few words into his notebook. He raises his nose in the air as if heâs on some high horse.
The interview persists until the end of the hour, and Jeongguk remains at the edge of his seat. He holds his hand in yours to keep his composure intact. Thankfully, the dean of admissions and the executive advisor have more tasteful questions to ask.Â
However, it doesnât last long. The headmaster intercepts once again. âMrs. Jeon, I noticed that your documents indicate you are Minjiâs stepmother, correct? Do you ever feel some kind of disconnect considering that you are not her biological mother?âÂ
Youâre taken aback by this impromptu question. You didnât prepare an answer for this, although your natural response would be to wrap your hands around this manâs bare neck, wringing it dry. Yet you remain composed for the sake of Jeongguk and Minji. You can feel Jeongguk hold your hand tighter in his. But you pat his wrist, serving as both a warning and a comforting acknowledgement.Â
âI love Minji as a daughter, just as any other mother. To me, it doesnât matter if sheâs not my blood relative. Weâve grown really close ever since weâve met. I admit that I have never been a mom myself, and Iâm faced with a new learning curve every single day. But isnât that what motherhood is? Itâs nothing Iâm not used to. Growing up, I raised my younger brother. At work, I take care of children from all different backgrounds. Surely, I make mistakes, but I think every parent leaves a mark on their child no matter what they do. Sometimes itâs a stain. Other times itâs a break, a bend, or a crack. Other parents can splinter their kids, but I hope that I never get to that point. Iâm not perfect, but Iâm constantly trying to be better. I love Minji more than anything.âÂ
âSo you never feel any sense of inadequacy or resentment?â The headmaster has the audacity to question your parenting skills.Â
Jeongguk cannot stand to hear the headmaster criticize you anymore. In a blink of an eye, he slams his fist against the coffee table. The wood splits in half beneath the brute force of his hand, and youâre quite impressed by the display of action.Â
âThis is wildly inappropriate for an interview. This entire time, youâve done nothing but berate my wife because we do not have a conventional family. Weâre not wealthy people. We work hard for what we do. We take care of one another in a way that only we know and understand. If you canât accept that, then maybe this is not the school that we want our child to be enrolled in.â Jeonggukâs chest heaves as he says his peace.Â
He doesnât even take another moment to listen to the headmaster. Thereâs nothing he could say that could warrant forgiveness. So Jeongguk picks up his daughter, and he grabs your hand before storming out of the interview room.Â
Jeongguk is going to have a difficult time explaining to his boss why heâs failed his mission.
âIâm sorry I messed up Minjiâs chance of going to Hwa Yang.â You tug at the sleeves of your dress as you stare at the floor.
Back at Jeonggukâs apartment, you sink into the couch, allowing the weight of the situation to finally settle.Â
Jeongguk rests his hand on your shoulders, turning you so that you can meet his gaze. âYou didnât mess up anything.â His eyes are filled with warmth, but you feel as if you donât deserve it.Â
âWe worked so hard for this, and it was all for nothing.âÂ
Thereâs still residual rage that flows through his veins. âNothing? Donât say that. Donât you know that I lo-âÂ
Your heart lurches out of your chest as you stare at him in awe. He loves you?Â
Jeonggukâs hands shift to hold your cheeks, running his calloused thumb against the edge of your jaw. He sighs, trying to collect his thoughts. âWe have each other, and thatâs all that matters at the end of the day, okay? We couldnât anticipate that theyâd be so cruel. I would defend you over anything in this world. So donât you dare say that this was all for nothing.â
He pulls you into a tight hug, tucking your head beneath his chin. You can hear the sound of his heart beat, beating only for you. Itâs distracting enough for you to miss his whispered declaration: âIâm seriously gonna marry you someday.âÂ
Minji climbs onto the couch, wedging herself between her parents. âIf I donât get accepted, I donât have to go to school, right?âÂ
The two of you peel away from the embrace, glaring at Minji, shaking your heads. âNo, you have to go,â you simultaneously declare with stern conviction.Â
Minji huffs a sigh, looking downcast. But when her stomach grumbles, you effectively put an end to your pity party. You and Jeongguk drop everything, scurrying into the kitchen to prepare dinner for your precious daughter. She worked hard, and she did her very best. You all did.Â
âŚ
Tucked away into the busy streets of Seoul, thereâs a tiny little apartment on the second story filled with music and laughter.Â
While the water boils for the buckwheat noodles, Jeongguk watches over his precious family, reading the instructions for the sauce. All you need is a mixture of perilla oil, cham sauce, buldak sauce, buldak mayo, egg yolk, and a generous amount of furikake. But when you and Minji measure out everything to perfection, you cheer for one another as if youâve made a meal worthy of praise from the world renown Gordon Ramsey.Â
When the noodles are ready, you all gather around the table and laugh to your heart's content. You fill your stomachs with starch, a heavy amount of spice, and plenty of love. You dote on one another, too distracted with the loving family youâve created to notice anything outside of your little bubble.Â
This moment is yours, and yours alone. This is your happy place, and nobody can take it away from you. Not even the sound of the answering machine, echoing from the quaint living room.
âDue to your familyâs impressive display of integrity at the institutionâs interview, I would like to extend an offer to enroll Jeon Minji into the prestigious Hwa Yang Academy. Congratulations, and we hope to hear from you soon.âÂ
#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#jungkook x reader#jungkook scenario#jungkook imagine#jungkook#jeon jungkook#bts scenario#bts imagine#bts x reader#bts fan fic#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts fan fiction
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fake it til you make it
if you have trouble going into the 'i AM' or 'wish fulfilled' states, you can try the acting method and see how it feels
it's really simple, and it doesn't involve doing anything in the 3Dâbecause remember, you can't change the 3D by acting in the 3D
so i'm not gonna say 'if your ideal self is that girl, start waking up at 5 am and going for 2 mile runs, stop eating processed foods, buy this thing....' like NO lmao you should only ever do this type of thing in the material world for your own fun and enjoyment, but NEVER expect it to have any impact on your outer world. all change must be achieved in your mind, period
so how do you act then?
it doesn't matter what you do in the outer world. you can keep going as you usually do if you work or if you're a student, and it won't conflict with ur manifesting, even if you think 'oh but in my dream life I'm not a student, I'm a model', k?
the acting method is simply thinking FROM ur desires instead of TO them. you should straight up act like you're playing the part of future you, in every tiny little way
pay attention to your inner monologue and think fun things! they might sound crazy or delusional at first but ur mind is the real deal, not what we see, so fuck it we ball lmao
EXAMPLE: i want to be a fashion model, even more famous than bella hadid
when i wake up, i splash my face with water and brush my teeth, thinking 'ah my skin's looking good today. i'll barely need to wear any makeup for the photoshoot later...'
when i have breakfast, i think 'my fans sometimes ask me about my diet, but i really just eat whatever i want. maintaining my weight and appearance is effortless'
when i dress up, i think 'i'm so excited for dior's next collection... I'm glad i decided to become an ambassador for them!'
and go on about your life you know. that's just it. if you do it a few times, it becomes completely natural, and you'll shift your state, and the 3D will reflect it
fairy kisses~
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Hello! Can I request homelander x human reader? Maybe he has some kind of messed up obsession with a Vought employee that gave him a huge cupcake on his birthday but she is just completely blind to it. Like he's just obsessing constantly like "I swear if someone touches you I'll-" and she's just like "hm, he must be hungry" Id love to see what you do with this plot if you decide to use it. Obsessed x dense is such a funny kind of ship to me.
Strawberry Cupcake
Homelander X Reader
Content: Protective Homelander, Jealousy, he is obsessed! and you adore him too, some threats, lots of touching (in non-sexual ways), semi-harassment from a side character but not really
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: Non-graphic threats
a/n: I WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS GIF also I am currently watching The Boys for the first time and have not made it to Homelanderâs birthday episode yet so I changed the request a tiny bit, ty
It began with a cupcakeâsuch a small insignificant gesture for the sender, but a brain-rewiring occasion for the receiver. Homelander stood there, dazed, looking at the large treat on the seven-shaped desk, right in front of his chair. He was publicly celebrating â500 crimes preventedâ recently, but the majority of it was just a PR stunt. They faked the last crime, making it extra flamboyant so that audiences had something to gawk over. Vought needed more interest so they threw together some tacky event with overpriced merchandise and a speech from Homelander himself. With a tentative hand, Homelander reached out and held the cupcake in his gloved hand. It couldnât have been an outsider that gave this to him, no one steps into this room besides those he allowed. Examining it further, he noticed a pink slip on the table next to the cupcake.Â
âIn celebration of 500 crimes! Thank you for protecting us. -Y/Nâ
A simple message, a display of gratitude he receives from strangers all of the time. So then why does this feel so different? So personal compared to the other thanks he gets? He licked some frosting. Strawberry, his favorite. He felt a smile grow on his face. Perhaps it was because you were the only employee to thank him for all the fake-heroic work he has done, or because you were observant enough to know his food preferences, but he needed to find just who you were.Â
Immediately he went to Ashley and demanded she find who this Y/N person was. The first time he saw you he was instantly drawn to your demeanor. You didnât seem scared of him, even though as a higher-ranking employee you should be at least aware of his capabilities. Homelander quickly shooed Ashley away and began to make a civil conversation with you, thanking you for the cupcake with a genuine smile. You happily mirrored a smile back, showering him with praise but also trying to make regular conversation. You didnât want to seem like a fan or anything.Â
The time you spent together was refreshing, humanizing. You treated him not as a machine like so many others before you had. You eagerly indulged in whatever topic Homelander brought up, sparking even more interest in the man. As the night concluded he decided to test you.Â
âYou do realize that the whole â500 crimesâ thing is fake, right?â He said it with a tone intended to make you feel stupid for getting the cupcake, despite his undying gratitude for the small gesture. He needed to know what your reasoning was, or if your pretty little face was just not paying attention to the work they do at Vought.Â
âI know! But, I dunno. It still seemed like a cool thing to pretend to celebrate. Plus, Iâve been getting into baking and thought, why not make you something? I mean, whatâs the worst that could happen?â You said with a soft smile and a sweet expression. You were so fucking oblivious to the fact he could snap you in half without a second thought it was adorable. But it also scared him, were you that dense in the real world to criminals? With even just meeting you he couldnât bear the thought of you being injured. And thus began Homelanderâs mission to be your guard dog in the shadows.Â
He was always there, whether you knew or not, keeping an eye on you. He was horrified when he found out you walked home alone from Vought when your shift was over. Were you stupid? No, he knows thatâs not the answer. You were just too kind to ever assume that there were people out there who could harm others without a second thought. It was honestly a miracle youâve made it this far without his protection. But no need to fear now, heâs got your back.Â
When he is making himself known heâs constantly obsessing over you, to the point where everyone else in the room can tell but you. One day Homelander brought you along for a promotional event Vought was hosting for a sponsor. He held your hand the entire time backstage, wanting to keep you close. For the moments where he was forced to be somewhere else God forbid anyone else enter your vicinity because they would have a very stern talking to later by Americaâs favorite superhero.Â
âY/N, just stay here okay? Iâll be back in a bit. If anyone tries to do something tell me, and Iâll fucking blast their heads off sweetheart.â Homelander looks at you with a serious expression, but you only smile at him back. You believe heâs always exaggerating with his threats, despite it being the exact opposite. If anything, the threats are always tamer than the punishment itself.Â
âI know, I know. Anybody talks to me, you'll kill them.â You said with a smile, briefly touching Homelanderâs nose with your pointer finger. âYouâre so cute. Go get âem, tiger.â You shoo him away to Ashley, who is waiting with a bored expression. Sheâs seen this display a million times, of Homelander swooning over you and you not picking up a single hint. The times when he would make Ashley call you into his office just so he could rest his head on your lap at the end of a particularly long day. When you were running late once to a meeting and Homelander searched the entire city in under two minutes because his overactive mind convinced himself you were dead in an alleyway and he had failed you. When he returned disheveled and ready to burn the entire building to the ground he found you were just in the bathroom touching up your makeup and lost track of time. Somehow in his haste of panic, he didnât think to check the building and immediately assumed the worst. Ever since that incident, Ashley has made sure you were on time for every event now. She was sure he even leveled a mountain for you once after you thought it had the perfect view for a picnic, but no room for a proper picnic blanket.Â
Yeah, the dude was obsessed. This brought about some problems at Vought, but anyone would rather jump off a bridge than confront Homelander about his little obsession with you.Â
It was another typical day, Vought had just begun filming for a TV show about The Seven. Naturally, they filmed Homelanderâs segment first. You sat in said superheroâs dressing room and watched as he perfectly combed his soft blonde hair into place. You had a stupid smile on your face, gawking at the incredible man in front of you. âYouâre gonna do great today! Iâm so excited to watch your film.â Homelander looked over and saw you practically jumping in your seat with excitement. It warmed his heart to see you so genuinely enjoy him doing simple tasks like mindlessly talking to a camera for hours.Â
âThank you, sweetheart.â Homelander puts down his comb and saunters over to your chair, bringing you into a sudden hug. In truth, he canât stand physically being away from you for more than an hour. He feels right when heâs with you, he feels like John, not Homelander. Itâs such an overwhelming feeling of comfort he feels, he could cry each time you touch. If this is what true love feels like he wishes all his enemies feel it so he can rip it away from them. How excruciatingly painful that must feel shakes him in maniacal ways.Â
âJohn?â Youâve become accustomed to using his real name with him by his request. The simple title shakes him out of his thoughts and brings them back to your shining face. âWhatâs the hug for? Not that Iâm complaining butâŚâ You trail off, arms wrapped around his torso reciprocating the hug.Â
âCanât hug my girl?â He playfully smiles, squeezing your small body with only a percentage of his power. We all know what would happen if he did it with full force. He leads you out into the hallway in front of his dressing room door. The expression he wore was akin to the face a puppy makes when it gets kicked. âI have to go film, but remember if anyone fucking touches you Iâll burn them until their unrecognizable,â Homelander said with a nonchalance that should have horrified you, but you simply smile when he pats your head, kisses your cheek, and leaves the room. As you turn to go your own way you see an intern for the television company standing there, mouth agape. Their expression was almost laughable.Â
âHe just must be hungry!â You giggle.Â
As the day progressed Homelander became increasingly irritated over the fact he hadnât seen you in hours. The underpaid employees were consistently getting berated and yelled at by the man. âGo find Y/NâŚâ Ashley whispered to an intern after a particularly realistic threat spewed from Homelanderâs mouth.Â
Looking up from his tiny rampage, it was evident that Homelander had heard the request crystal clear. Deciding he was done with idiots for the rest of today he left with a grumble, âDonât bother, Iâll find her myself.âÂ
Finding you wasnât the problem, it never is with Homelanderâs unique abilities, but finding who you were with was something else. Somehow a random D-list superhero had found its way onto the set and decided that you were the lucky girl who deserved his charm today. Unlucky for that man, Homelanderâs already sunken mood had just become much more severe. He was clearly making you comfortable, backing you into a corner where you couldnât escape. He wasnât quite touching you, but he was only a breath away from being able to. The sigh almost activated Homelanderâs eye beams right then and there. He felt animalistic, and territorial over you.Â
With the best fake expression he could muster, which wasnât very good, he casually walked over to the two of you. As the man next to you saw who was approaching his eyes lit up and his body seemed to forget you were there, so enthralled by the man in front of him. Wrong reaction.Â
âHomelander, sir! Wow, itâs such an honor to meet you.â His hand stuck out, waiting for a handshake it would never receive.Â
âRight,â Homelanderâs smile was strained. âAnd what is going on over here?âÂ
The man seems taken aback by the question, not quite sure why Homelander was interested in what was happening. âOh, um, me and girly over here are just chatting. Think I might get to home base tonight, if you know what I mean, haha.â He winked at Homelander, a disgusting and provocative gesture. Gauging your reaction to this comment, a look of fear in your eyes and a pleading look sent Johnâs way, he almost evaporated the man right then and there. But he kept his cool, he wouldnât want you to see all the dirty work he has to do after all.Â
âI donât know what you mean,â Homelander said plainly, making the other superhero, if he could even call himself that, cringe at himself. John stood there, eyes now locked on you. You looked so fragile in this position, like something he needed to protect. Sometimes he felt his abilities were given to him for that sole purpose; to protect you from the world. Even if that wasnât the case he does so anyway.Â
âRight, well, umâŚâ The man stuttered out, embarrassed at the exchange.Â
âWhat are you doing here? Itâs surprising theyâd invite a D-tier superhero to a Vought shooting.â Homelander questioned, changing the subject away from you. This seemed to bring the manâs personality back.Â
âAh! Well, they wanted to include a segment where you were helping smaller heroes, you know, to show you donât care about status and everyone is equal.âÂ
âWell isnât that nice?â Homelanderâs grin toward the man only became increasingly artificial, smile lines dancing on either side. He turns to you. âWeâll be right back, sweetheart. Just going to chat about the show a bit.â He winks at you, before ushering the man away out the back.Â
It was an hour later when Homelander came back, seemingly much calmer now. Ashley began yelling at him, scolding him for making them wait before he shoved her aside and beelined for his dressing room where he knew you were sitting all pretty waiting for him.Â
âThereâs my beautiful girl.â He cooed, walking over and taking you in his arms, the scent of your shampoo entering his system.Â
You giggled. âWhere have you been? Still talking to that one guy? I donât really like him, he was being weird.âÂ
âDonât worry, sweetheart. He wasnât a good fit for the show anyway.â Homelander wiped a bit of charcoal off his suit. âThe team decided to fire him.âÂ
âMhm, I donât disagree with that notion.â You nuzzle into Homelanderâs chest before noticing a small box he was hiding behind his back. âWhatâs that?âÂ
âOh, this?â A wide smile played on the manâs lips. He presented the box, a red ribbon sealing the deal. âA present to cheer you up from earlier.â You thanked him before eagerly taking the box into your soft hands. With one fell swoop you managed to untie the ribbon to reveal one strawberry frosted cupcake that you then both shared.Â
#request#requests open#reqs open#the boys series#homelander#homelander x reader#homelander x you#homelander x y/n#the boys season 4#the boys#the boys amazon#the boys s4#the boys tv#the boys prime#ashley the boys#vought
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sugardaddy!rafe whoâs also older than you omg⌠youâre around 20-21 while heâs 30. itâs not bad, but itâs definitely not something people saw coming. some people thought it was wrong with what was going on, others actually envied you. but none of that ever mattered. youâve made him the happiest heâs been in a while and vice versa. everything is so perfect for you, because thatâs the only thing rafe wants (and it keeps you happy of course.)
being the girl you are, you have a big thing for keeping in touch with the latest clothing. and when you set your eyes on that cartier love bracelet⌠best believe it was gonna be yours.
you gasped at the beautiful sight on your screen. just happening to be laid back on the couch, in your favorite robe, that was covering your lace lingerie, doing some online shopping, it came up on your screen.
falling in love werenât even the words for how you felt. rafe was in his office doing whatever boring work he always does. he told you not to distract him too much, but this was a bracelet you HAD to have. so, you got up to go see if he was all that busy.
making your way with the macbook in your hands, you already can hear him yell at someone over the phone from down the hall.
âare you fucking dumb? i said you will pay me by TONIGHT. or you know what the consequences will be.â it seemed like his voice was getting louder each word.
âyouâre not listening, man. i donât give a shit if-â at this point, youâve actually made it to the door. heâs pacing and fuming around the room, then he spots you. he holds up a finger, mouthing you to wait a minute. but this bracelet? couldnât wait at all.
âitâs important!â you whisper-yell. he ignores you, and that makes you even more impatient. he still continues to pace, getting angrier at whateverâs being said on the other side of the phone.
knocking on the door to grab his attention again, he takes a deep breath. âif you donât get that shit sent by 12 am, thatâs your ass tomorrow morning.â rafe says in a lower tone, but still very stern voice. you felt bad to whoever he threatened. thereâs never been a single time rafe hasnât done what he said heâs going to do when it comes to hurting people.
he hangs up immediately after and motions for you to walk in as he sits back down. âyou know iâm busy baby, what is it?â
you needed to butter him up a bit, simply because you could still see the smoke coming out from his ears. âare you okay, honey? i can tell youre still pretty upset.â
discreetly trying to set the macbook down with it angled as if it meant nothing, you then walked to the back of his chair where he sat and started rubbing his shoulders. of course, he relaxed at your touch.
âdonât worry about it babe. just stress work.â he sighs. you leaned down to kiss on his neck. his eyes are shut as he loves all this affection, but he chuckles.
âsomeone must want something.â he says.
âi canât just love on my man?â you faked innocent.
âoh you do that enough, but i see the macbook you brought with you.â he responds. you gave him one last kiss.
âitâs just a little something i saw.â
âoh yea? how little is it?â
you reached over to pick up the laptop. opening it so he can fully see the screen, the gorgeous 18k gold band with diamonds all over it popped up.
âthatâs real gorgeous baby.â his eyebrows raised.
âi know! wouldnât it look so perfect on me?â you suggested.
âit would,â he started to pat his clothing for his wallet, âwhat will i get out of this though?â he teases.
âwell, just imagine how much better my hands will look when i hold onto you, and how well it will look up close when i give you a blowie.â you reply seductively. for a second, it looks like heâs really trying to imagine it.
by now, you know he feels his wallet. but he likes to play with you at times. âi donât know if you need it,â
âpleaseee rafey! i really do! havenât got a new bracelet in soo long.â you started to beg.
â58,000 for this? shit i could buy you a new purse with that.â he chuckles again. he could buy you purses worth a lot more than that but you know, whoâs keeping track?
you took a seat on his lap and straddled him. âplease? iâll be such good girl. yâcan use me however, whenever. doesnât matter what you want. i would just love to have this bracelet though.â he was a fool for your doe eyes, so that was the weapon you were trying to use.
he just smirked in your face. the both of you knew he liked to hear you beg. âi donât know..â he says which makes you internally flip out.
you threw your face in the crook of his neck and made it sound like you were getting emotional. âplease rafe!! itâs so pretty.â
he lets out a laugh then starts stroking your back and swaying a little. âiâm just joking baby, of course you can have it.â thatâs all you needed to hear to perk up again, and give him the deepest smooch.
âthank you, handsome.â
âyouâre welcome, spoiled.â he says before slapping one of your cheeks. âgonna buy it right now, but i got some more work to do so iâll be with you in a minute. want you stripped down with legs open, yea?â
whatever rafe says, most definitely goes. âyes, daddy.â
#omg#i usually donât even use the word daddy but it felt right đ#barbiiecams#drew starkey#rafe cameron#sugardaddy!rafe#outer banks#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey drabble#drew starkey fic#rafe cameron blurb#drew starkey fluff#drew starkey headcannon#drew starkey angst#drew starkey smut#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron smut#sugardaddy!rafe cameron
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was this written to solve my own inconsistencies because i keep forgetting Eddie literally hotwired the RV, they donât need keys, why do you keep mentioning keys, you fool? maybe. do i also think theyâd be this stupid? yes. â¤ď¸
âOh, son of a bitch,â Dustin says, midway to The War Zone.
Steve, who is used to this sort of outburst for things as mild as Dustin forgetting just one out of the eight pens on his person, does not react.
However EddieâHellfire rants asideâis not quite as familiar yet. He jumps practically a foot in the air.
âJesus Christ, what now?â
All Dustin offers by way of explanation is an accusatory, âYou,â pointing his finger right in Eddieâs face.
And then Eddie sees whatâs dangling from said finger.
â⌠Oh.â
âWhat?â Steve says, glancing at the rearview mirror; Eddie quickly blocks Dustin from view, goes right up on his tiptoes and spreads his arms wide, curses when Dustin throws the keysâ
âto Max, who catches them one-handed, who gives Eddie a grin thatâs not so much pitying as it is evil, and then sheâ
âthrows them to Lucas, and he somehow gets the metal ring to land on his finger, like heâs in a movie, and he twirls them round and round until Max snorts, and he grins like that had been his aim all along.
âSinclair,â Eddie says, âI am begging you.â
âIâm not hearing much about whatâs in it for him,â Erica says.
Aha! Eddie zeroes in on Erica and blocks her from Lucas, like a very unjust game of Keep Away.
âDude,â Lucas says, affronted, âthatâs not fair.â
Eddie has the decency to look a bit ashamed. Not too ashamed to stop because he is a pathetic man, but at least Steve still hasnât noticed theâ
âLucas,â Erica says, in the aggrieved tones of a sister whoâs despaired at him many, many times. âYouâre on the basketball team. Just do a pass fake, nerd.â
Lucas feigns to the left, and Eddie falls for itâbut, in what heâs sure is a completely unsportsmanlike move, he uses his height to his advantage, jumpsâŚ
And drops the keys with a clatter.
Steve must instantly recognise the sound for what it is, because he starts to cackle.
Eddieâs only saving grace is that Steve is driving, so at least he canât seeâ
âEddieâs going, like, super red in the face right now,â Dustin narrates helpfully.
âScarlet,â Lucas says.
âVermillion,â Robin pipes up from the floor.
âOoh,â Dustin, Lucas, and Max chorus, impressed. Jesus Christ, they almost harmonize.
âYeah, Eddie,â Steve says dryly, âyou fucking moron. How did you miss those, itâs not like you had literally anything else on your mind.â
âYouâre a real gentleman, Harrington, anyone ever told you that?â Eddie says weakly.
âMaybe once or twice,â Steve says, drawing it out teasingly, as if he means not often enough.
âWell, at least we got on the road,â Nancy says. Her voice quivers like sheâs trying not to laughâperched on the table, eyes shining with amusement. âAnd it did look pretty cool, Eddie.â
Eddie thinks this is an incredibly generous assessment, considering his main thought while breaking into the RV had been donât get stuck in the window, Jesus Christ.
And then⌠like, he didnât expect Steve to actually come up and watch him hotwire the damn thing, like, with rapt attention, so close that Eddie was kinda concerned heâd electrocute himself instead. Honestly, it was a miracle he got the engine started.
âThatâs sweet of you, Wheeler, but Iâm self-aware.â
âSince when?â Erica says.
Underneath everyoneâs laughter, Steve grins and says, âHey, donât worry, man.â He catches Eddieâs eye in the rearview mirror, winks. âIt was an educational experience.â
âOh, wow, your face is even redder.â
âHenderson, Iâm gonna put those goddamn keys so far up your ass.â
#in which i kept forgetting what hotwiring actually means so came up with this#they are ridiculous#i love them â¤ď¸#pre steddie#eddie and the party#steddie ficlet#eddie munson ficlet#eddie and dustin#steve x eddie#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington
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FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 8
pairing: you x drew starkey
The cafĂŠ smells of freshly ground coffee beans and warm pastries, a cozy refuge in the heart of downtown. Itâs quiet, save for the hum of conversation and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine. You hadnât wanted to comeâyour instinct had been to ignore Odessaâs message and pretend it didnât exist. But something about the vulnerability in her words, the quiet plea buried in her request, had made you pause.
Now, sitting across from her, you wonder if youâve made a mistake. Odessa looks different than she did in the tabloid photos. Less polished, more real. Her hair is tied back in a loose braid, and her sweater is soft and worn.
âThanks for meeting me,â Odessa begins, her voice hesitant but sincere. She wraps her hands around her coffee cup, as though it might anchor her.
You offer a curt nod, your guard firmly in place. âWhy am I here, Odessa? What do you want from me?â
Odessa flinches, but she doesnât shy away. âI donât blame you for being sceptical,â she says carefully. âI know Iâm probably the last person you want to talk to. But⌠I wanted to set the record straight.â
You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms. âSet the record straight? Why now? Why not months ago when all of this was happening?â
âBecause I was scared,â Odessa admits, her voice barely above a whisper. âScared of what people would say, scared of making things worse. But Iâve seen how much this has hurt Drew. And⌠how much itâs hurt you.â
Your jaw tightens. âSo, what? Youâre here to tell me it was all just a big misunderstanding? That it didnât mean anything?â
Before Odessa can respond, movement at the corner of your vision catches your attention. A man at a nearby table has his phone angled toward you, snapping pictures. Your stomach twists.
âGreat,â you mutter under your breath.
Odessa follows your gaze, her expression hardening. âIgnore it.â
She hesitates, then nods. âThatâs exactly what Iâm here to tell you. The PR thingâit was fake. Every smile, every photo, every headline. It wasnât real. Drew and I were never together. We were never anything more than friends.â
The words hang in the air, and for a moment, you donât know what to say. You stare down at your coffee, the steam curling up like a ghost of something you canât quite grasp.
âI know that now,â you say finally, your voice tight. âBut it doesnât change what it felt like at the time. It doesnât erase the months I spent watching you two plastered across every magazine, every social media post. It doesnât erase how small it made me feel.â
Odessa looks stricken, guilt flashing across her face. âIâm sorry,â she says, her voice trembling. âI didnât think about how it would affect you. I didnât think about how much it would hurt.â
Your eyes flick up to meet hers, sharp and unyielding. âNo, you didnât.â
The tension between you is palpable, a chasm filled with pain and regret. For a moment, it seems like the conversation will end there, the silence stretching too wide to bridge.
But then you speak, your voice steady. âYou donât need to apologize to me, Odessa. You werenât the one who broke my trust.â
Odessaâs brow furrows, but she doesnât interrupt.
âYou donât owe me loyalty,â you continue, your gaze unwavering. âYou donât owe me anything. Drew does.â
Odessaâs breath hitches at that, and you see the recognition in her eyesâthe realization that the problem was never about her, but about Drewâs choices.
âI get it,â Odessa says softly, her voice strained. âIâm not trying to make excuses. I just thought you should know that Drew⌠heâs not the person he was back then. Heâs been struggling with everything. With you, with me, with what happened. Heâs really trying.â
You shift in your seat, your posture tightening. You donât want to hear about Drewâs strugglesânot from her. âThatâs between me and him,â you reply, your tone firm. âI didnât need to hear about Drew from you. What I needed was for him to be honest with me. To not lie, to not play games.â
Odessa opens her mouth to respond, but you hold up your hand, silencing her. âIâm not angry at you, Odessa. You donât owe me any kind of apology. But Drew? He owes me everything. Heâs the one who promised me something real and then shattered it with lies.â
Odessa lowers her gaze, nodding as she absorbs your words. Thereâs a quiet understanding between you nowâno more apologies, no more empty explanations. The silence stretches between you, thick with the weight of everything that has happened.
Odessaâs eyes grow glassy, as though the weight of her own guilt has finally caught up with her. She nods again, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
âIâll leave you to it,â she says quietly, standing up to leave. âBut I just want you to know that I never meant for this to hurt you. I donât know if youâll ever believe that, but⌠itâs the truth.â
You donât say anything, watching as Odessa walks away, her shoulders heavy with her own regrets. Itâs not your job to absolve her, but thereâs a small part of you that feels lighter after the conversation. Itâs done. Youâre not the one who has to bear this burden any longer.
But as you leave the cafĂŠ, the unease youâve been feeling for weeks doesnât dissipate. It follows you out into the crisp evening air, a constant reminder that, despite the conversation with Odessa, the real battle is still ahead.
The photos hit the internet that evening.
âOdessa Aâ Zion spotted with Drew Starkeyâs rumored ex, Y/N! Are they teaming up or hashing it out?â
The headlines are relentless, the comments even worse. Your phone buzzes incessantly with texts and notifications, each one a reminder that your life is once again under a microscope.
By the time the party rolls aroundâa casual gathering at Jonathanâs placeâyouâre emotionally spent. The music thrums softly through Jonathanâs house, blending with the hum of conversation and occasional bursts of laughter.
You arrive an hour early, feeling a mix of anticipation and dread. Jonathanâs gatherings are always lively, drawing a mix of familiar faces and a few strangers. You donât know what youâre hoping forâmaybe just a distraction from the chaos your emotions have been in lately.
You nurse a drink as you make your way through the room, exchanging pleasantries with people you havenât seen in months. But your focus is scattered, your mind drifting to places youâve sworn not to go.
And then, like a gravitational pull, you spot him.
Drew stands on the far side of the room, laughing with Chase, his head tilted back in a way thatâs achingly familiar. The sight hits you like a punch to the chest, your breath catching as memories flood youâthe sound of his laughter, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles.
Your first instinct is to look away, to retreat before he notices you. But your feet refuse to move. Instead, you stay rooted to the spot, watching him like heâs some untouchable star in a galaxy you no longer belong to.
Chase says something that makes Drew laugh again, but then his gaze shifts, scanning the room. When his eyes land on you, the smile falters, replaced by something you canât quite name. Surprise? Hope?
Whatever it is, it makes your heart race.
He hesitates for a moment, as if deciding whether to approach you. Before he can make a move, Jonathan appears at your side, his grin as wide as ever. âYou made it!â he says, his voice warm.
You force a smile, grateful for the distraction. âWouldnât miss it.â
Jonathan glances over his shoulder, following your gaze to Drew. His smile falters briefly, but he recovers quickly, his tone casual. âYou two talked yet?â
âNot really,â you reply, your voice tight.
Jonathan studies you for a moment, then sighs. âYou know, heâs been asking about you. A lot.â
Your eyes dart back to Drew, who is now watching you with an intensity that makes your stomach twist. âThat doesnât mean anything,â you say quietly.
âMaybe,â Jonathan says. âBut maybe it does.â
Before you can respond, Jonathan claps a hand on your shoulder. âLook, whatever you decide, just know that itâs okay to take your time. No pressure. And hey, if you need a distraction, thereâs beer pong in the back.â
You manage a laugh, nodding as Jonathan walks away. But your gaze drifts back to Drew, who is still standing there, as if waiting for a sign from you.
Youâre not sure what possesses you to do itâmaybe itâs the weight of his stare, or the way your heart seems to pull toward him despite everything. But you start walking, your steps slow and hesitant, until youâre standing in front of him.
âHey,â you say softly, your voice barely audible over the music.
âHey,â he replies, his voice equally quiet.
For a moment, neither of you says anything. The world around you seems to fade, the noise and chatter becoming a distant hum.
âYou look⌠good,â Drew says finally, his gaze flickering over you before settling on your eyes.
âThanks,â you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. âYou too.â
He smiles faintly, but it doesnât quite reach his eyes. âI didnât expect to see you here.â
âSame,â you admit.
Thereâs an awkward pause, heavy with all the things left unsaid. You can feel the weight of his gaze, the way he seems to be searching your face for somethingâwhat, you donât know.
âIâm glad you came,â he says suddenly, his voice soft but earnest.
You look up at him, your heart pounding. âWhy?â
âBecauseâŚâ He hesitates, running a hand through his hair. âBecause I miss you. I miss us. And I know I donât have the right to say that, not after everything, but itâs the truth.â
Your breath catches, the rawness in his voice cutting through your defenses. âDrewâŚâ
âI know I messed up,â he says quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. âI know I hurt you in ways I canât take back. But Iâve been trying. Iâve been trying so hard to be better, for you. And I know it might be too late, but I just need you to know that Iâm not giving up.â
You stare at him, your emotions warring between anger, sadness, and a longing you canât quite suppress. âYou canât just say these things and expect everything to be okay,â you say, your voice trembling. âIt doesnât work like that.â
âI know,â he says, stepping closer, his eyes locked on yours. âI donât expect it to be okay overnight. But I need you to know that Iâm not the same guy who let you down before. Iâm not perfect, but Iâm trying. And Iâll keep trying, for as long as it takes.â
The intensity in his gaze is overwhelming, and for a moment, you feel like you canât breathe. You want to believe him, want to let yourself fall into the warmth of his words. But the scars he left are still too fresh.
âI donât know if I can do this again,â you whisper, your voice breaking.
âYou donât have to decide now,â he says, his voice gentle but firm. âTake your time. Take all the time you need. Just⌠donât shut me out completely.â
Your eyes fill with tears, and you blink them away, refusing to let them fall. âI donât know if I can believe you,â you say honestly.
âThen let me prove it to you,â he says, his voice unwavering.
The moment stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Finally, you nod, your movements slow and hesitant. âOkay.â
A small, hopeful smile tugs at his lips. âOkay.â
And for the first time that night, you feel a flicker of something you havenât felt in monthsâa spark of hope.
Your breaking point comes days later, when new photos of Drew and Odessa surfaceâold promotional shots from their PR arrangement that had been planned weeks ago.
Furious and fed up, you drive to Drewâs house, your emotions bubbling over in a storm of anger and heartbreak.
When he opens the door, his eyes widen in surprise. âY/Nââ
âYouâre unbelievable,â you spat, shoving your phone toward him. âYou said it was over! That you ended this PR nonsense with Odessa! Was that just another lie?â
Drew blinks, confused. âWhat are you talking about?â
âThese pictures, Drew!â you say, your voice rising. âHow could you do this to me? How could youââ
âY/N, stop,â he interrupts, his tone firm but gentle. âI donât know what youâre talking about. Let me see.â
You hesitate, then hand him the phone. His brows furrow as he scrolls through the images. âThese are from weeks ago,â he says finally. âI didnât even know they were coming out.â
Your anger falters, replaced by uncertainty. âYou⌠didnât?â
âNo,â he says, his voice softening. âAnd Iâm sorry you had to see them. But I swear to you, they donât mean anything. I ended that for a reasonâyou.â
The sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache, unraveling the tight coil of rage youâd held onto since the moment the photos surfaced. âI justââ you start, your voice trembling. âI canât keep doing this, Drew. The public spectacle, the headlines, the constant reminder of everything Iâm trying so hard to move past. I donât know if I can take it anymore.â
His eyes soften, his voice steady but filled with quiet desperation. âI know Iâve made this so hard for you, Y/N. But I swear to you, Iâve changed. I ended things with Odessa, Iâve been doing everything I can to prove myself, and stillâitâs not enough. I donât know what else to do, but Iâll keep trying. Iâll keep trying until you believe me, even if it takes the rest of my life.â
You freeze at his words, your breath hitching in your throat. The rawness in his voice, the way his eyes search yours, as if you hold the answer to all his painâit undoes you.
âYou think you can just say the right things, and itâll fix everything?â you whisper, your voice cracking. âItâs not that simple, Drew.â
âI know itâs not,â he says, stepping closer, his presence filling the small entryway like a tidal wave. âI donât expect you to forgive me overnight, or even at all. But I need you to know that Iâm not giving up. Not on you. Not on us.â
The vulnerability in his eyesâthe way he stands before you, utterly exposedâis too much. Something inside you snaps, the months of pent-up anger, longing, and heartbreak crashing together in a wave you canât fight anymore.
Without thinking, without weighing the consequences, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him down to you, your lips crashing against his with a force that surprises even you.
For a moment, Drew freezes, his breath hitching in shock. But then his hands find your waist, tentative at first, as if he canât quite believe this is happening. When you donât pull away, his grip tightens, drawing you closer, his body pressing against yours like heâs afraid to let go.
The kiss is messy, frantic, and unrelentingâa collision of every emotion youâve both kept bottled up for too long. Your hands fist in his shirt, pulling him closer as if you can erase all the distance between you. His fingers curl into the fabric of your jacket, his touch grounding you even as your head spins.
You can taste the salt of your own tears on your lips, feel the way his breath shudders against your cheek, and itâs all too muchânot enough. He kisses you like youâre air, like heâs been suffocating for months and youâre the only thing keeping him alive. And in that moment, you feel it tooâthe way your broken pieces still fit together, jagged edges and all.
When you finally break apart, it isnât because either of you wants to. You pull back just enough to catch your breath, your forehead resting against his as you stand there, tangled in each otherâs space. Your chest heaves, your fingers still clutching his shirt like a lifeline.
Drewâs eyes flutter open, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your knees weak. âY/N,â he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. âIâI donât deserve you. But I swear to you, Iâll spend the rest of my life trying to.â
Tears well in your eyes, but you donât pull away. âYou broke me, Drew,â you say softly, your voice shaking. âYou broke me in ways I didnât even know were possible. I donât know if Iâll ever be whole again.â
His hands cup your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that slip down your cheeks. âThen let me help you put the pieces back together,â he murmurs. âEven if it takes the rest of my life, Iâll do whatever it takes. Just donât shut me out.â
You close your eyes, letting his words sink in, letting yourself feel the weight of them. For the first time in months, you let yourself believe that maybeâjust maybeâthey arenât beyond saving.
But you arenât ready to say it out loud, not yet. Instead, you lean into him, letting the warmth of his embrace speak for you.
For now, itâs enough.
TAGLIST: @princesspeach124 @idiotussupremus @eitaababe @13tter @drewsephrry @drewstarkeyzwhore @cooper8224 @maybankslover @elyseesarchive @ietss @esquivelbianca @josephandrewstarkey @willowpains @wtfdudesblog @purplerose291 @rafegf-real @matthewswifeyy @fangirl-magic @snowtargaryen @slut-era @leather-n-velvet
#drew starkey#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x oc#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#obx season 4#outer banks#drew starkey imagines#drewstarkey#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagine#rafe obx#rafe cameron#rafe outer banks#obx rafe cameron#outer banks rafe#fallingoutofframe#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey fluff#drew starkey angst#starkeyslibrary#fallingoutofframe the series#falling out of frame
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i donât know if this is something Jojo is doing on purpose, or if it was an intentional detail but i grabbed and ran away with it, or if Iâve just completely read far to into things and entered the realm of just making shit up, but Warriors and his little crooked smile are so GODDAMN important to me and I am shaking him like a squeak toy (gently)
(big yap/analysis under the cut)
disclaimer, i just have a lot of thoughts, probably way too many thoughts, and 97% of them are about Wars so I might be insane, and what youâre about to read provided youâve stuck around so far might be the equivalent of your high school english teacher yelling with tears in their eyes about how the curtains were blue to âsymbolize her sadnessâ. also my apologies for weird spelling mistakes or oddly misspelled words, i am dyslexic đ but with that being said:
Warriors to me comes off as someone whoâs constantly acting larger than life. He masks a LOT in front of the chain, he acts overdramatic and a bit ridiculous on purpose, and to an extent he just is a bit ridiculous, but his reactions to things are sometimes blow way out of proportion or are just larger than life in a comedic way where it just seems like heâs doing it intentionally. He comes across as a very extroverted, talkative person, and he seems like heâd honestly be a bit loud too (whether thatâs who is REALLY is or what heâs REALLY like is a yap for another post). His (physical) image and the way his character/personality is perceived by others both seem like things that are not his CORE values or the things that mean the most to him, but they do seem to be at least a LITTLE bit important to him just based on how he presents himself and the way he acts. And to an extent, the whole thing with him caring so much about his looks is canon in LU, with that one sketch of him and Legend where heâs looking at his eye in a reflection of a shield and Legend says âalright break it up you twoâ being the first thing that comes to mind (which is in the post âMirror Shieldâ, click the name for the link)
To me, from what Iâve seen and from my perspective, there are very few times we see an actual genuine smile from Warriors, and when we do it tends to be in moments where heâs not in the spotlight, heâs not trying to command the center of attention, and/or the focus is NOT on him. It tends to be moments where he just seems genuinely happy or at peace, and those seem pretty rare. He smiles a LOT, but the majority of his smiles seem big and flashy and performative, and not that that means heâs not happy AT ALL in any of those moments, but those smiles seem a lot more controlled and closely managed because heâs aware of the attention on him and therefore thinking about how heâs perceived. (Iâve made some posts in the past and Iâll probably make others in the future about how I think Warriors puts on this âCaptainâ or âHero of Hyruleâ persona because of how an entire war was started because a sorceress found him beautiful, and how he feels like him being just him isnât really good enough for that and how he feels like he needs to fit in and look/act/seem like the legendary heroes heâs being compared to. Heâs created this idea of what he COULD be and thatâs what he presents to others, fake it till you make it and all that, but thats another yap for another day)
However there are these little moments where we see him smile, and the same one side of his mouth is pretty consistently always just a little bit higher no matter which way his head is facing (hereâs a few examples):
@/linkeduniverse, from the 2023 monthly art, âJanuary- Cold Sunriseâ
@/linkeduniverse, both from âDawn pt. 2â
And the thing that really started this whole headcanon of mine that his REAL smile is crooked was this specific part of Dawn pt. 2 where Warriors sees that Twilight is gonna be find for the first time after most likely worrying about him and being up all night:
That middle panel, to me at least, is probably the most genuine expression of a positive emotion weâve seen from him this entire time. No oneâs focus is on him, no oneâs really looking at him, he doesnât have the pressure of being the center of attention on him, and honestly even if that WERE the case, the genuine relief that hit him once he was Twilight was gonna be okay probably wouldâve been enough to get a genuine smile out of him anyways. But the second he walks into the room officially, he kinda, for lack of a better way to put it, announces his presence and starts âactingâ again (also from Dawn pt 2):
And while that same one side of his mouth does seem a bit higher and not very straight, itâs definitely more even than it was just five seconds previously
Now, acknowledging there is an art style, and that I also just might be insane, but Warriorsâs smiles for the most part (when they seem controlled) appear to be a Lot straighter and more even to me than when itâs a more genuine moment and he doesnât seem like heâs âactingâ so much (and just a note: it certainly isnât EVERY time, but in general, in moments like these his smile seems consistently straighter unless heâs just flat out smirking. and im not saying itâs PERFECTLY straight either, just noticeably more even). When heâs being more dramatic or intentionally obnoxious or the attention is on him, it really does feel like his smile is more controlled: here are just a few examples, obviously this isnât every single time heâs smiled in all of LU
@/linkeduniverse, from âSwordsâ
@/linkeduniverse, from âShady Escape pt 2â
@/linkeduniverse, from âDivine Dark Reflections pt. 8â
@/linkeduniverse, both from âMagic Swordâ
am i looking too far into a little thing? probably. am i insane? yeah. but i just really love the idea that when Warriors is truly, genuinely happy, the part of himself that he tries to hide, the sweet and caring person he hides underneath all the dramatics, that true self heâs probably kept hidden away since the start of the war whoâs been buried under insecurity and hidden because of the fear that who he is just isnt ENOUGH peaks through, and that person comes out through his happiness in the form of his smile. and yeah it does probably mean nothing and Jojo might not have done any of this on purpose, but iâm crazy, and Warriorsâs crooked little smile is so so important to me *insert image of a guy crying face down on the floor because unfortunately iâve hit the image limit*
#good lord this took me well over an hour to write#i might be losing my mind just a tadâŚ#jes talks#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu warriors#lu wars#warriors linked universe#lu character analysis#lu headcanons
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Recording Sessions
Pairing â 3racha and Reader
Wordcount â 3,485 words
Genre â Smut
Warnings â Dom!Chan and Changbin, Switch(sub lean)!Jisung, consensual voice recording. Dirty talk, use of petnames (slut), mild humiliation, oral sex (m. receiving), brief spanking, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, mild cum play, sex in a recording booth.
Autor's note â Wrote this a while ago for a commission, but as I was lurking through my google drive I found this again. I think its fun and I've been meaning to post something for a while now, but I can't get anything done sadly. I think I wrote this back in may or june? I am not too sure, but I hope you like it! I've been writing for NCT these days and I have 2 wips for them. I'm also working on something with Lee Know as a character. I hope I can get any of that finished soon! Hope you enjoy this, and I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes in advance đ¤
âDo any of you even know what a real moan sounds like?â
The look on their faces is amusing. Hadn't you been inside the recording booth, you're sure Changbin would have already headlocked you in a playful manner for running your mouth.Â
But you are inside the recording booth, the three of them sitting in the studio with frustration written all over their faces.
âThis sounds so fake,â you continue, taking off the headset. âWhat did you type in youtube to get this sample? Women moaning ASMR?â
âYouâre not being helpful at all, you know that?â Changbin asks, trying to keep a serious demeanor but failing almost miserably every time he remembers the audio samples that are currently as background vocals in their upcoming song. They do sound awful, but he isn't as straight-forward as you are.
âWell, you asked for my opinion and Iâm giving it to you,â the smug look on your face pisses off Chan just a little, but it is nothing new âthe endless bickering between the both of you has happened ever since you two met. It's always light-hearted and friendly, but it surely does bring some tension into your friendship with him.
âAny ideas on how we can improve this?âÂ
âFor once, get rid of all the fake moaning and get something that actually sounds like a woman being pleasured,â you instruct them, and smile when you see the three of them paying attention to your words. They have such abilities when it comes to music and producing, but they often look for constructive criticism outside their small group of three just to see things from different perspectives. âWe donât sound like that, itâs more like gasping for air and deep sighs accompanied with mostly quiet moans. This sounds like someone shouting exaggeratedlyâ.
âIâve tried,â Chan murmurs, leaning back on his studio chair that he spins slightly. âBut nothing sounds right. Itâs a bit too much, maybeâ.
âNo, I do think the song calls for background sounds like these,â you encourage the trio. âItâs just- you need something more raw and realâ.
Thereâs a quick moment of silence in which the four of you exchange glances, without exactly saying anything in particular.
Changbin and Chan look too deep into their own thoughts, probably trying to come up with another idea or alternative for that sound sample you all hate so much. Jisung, on the other hand, is staring right into you through the glass barrier that separates you from them, with an idea in mind heâs not quite sure how to deliver, but that he ends up doing it anyway.Â
âWhat if we record you?â Jisung asks, drawing the scowling glances of the other two. âI mean, you can obviously fake them since you're a woman, right?âÂ
The suggestion has you cackling quietly, but even Chan and Changbin are considering it âyou can tell by how they're looking at you as if they're expecting your verdict.
âRight,â you scoff, crossing both of your arms in front of your chest, âbecause what better way to spend my Saturday afternoon than faking moans inside a recording boothâ.Â
âItâs not going to take you long,â Itâs Chan who speaks this time. The one you thought was going to be the least to be on board with such a crazy idea. âWe all know this isnât going to be the first time you fake themâ.Â
Your mouth opens in awe and you curse them mentally when they all laugh under their breaths. It was just one time, with a guy you didnât even like, and you told them about it because you wanted to get the embarrassing memory out of your system. You were too bored, and desperate to go, that you ended up faking a series of moans that tricked him into thinking you were finished.Â
âVery funny, Christopher,â you spit, resentful. âI thought you promised not to bring that shit up, ever againâ.
âAnd I thought you promised youâd help us,â Chan attacks, âso what is it going to be?â
You look at them for a couple of seconds, pondering the situation. You can help them, you really have nothing better to do âyet a better idea comes to mind.Â
âWhy faking it if you can have the real deal?â you ask, nibbling at the skin against your fingernails. Youâre trying to appear collected, but even suggesting such a crazy idea itâs making you feel uneasy. Unless you've gotten the signals wrong, you know they won't turn down such a proposal. âYouâre all just sitting there, when one of you could help meâ.
Itâs Jisung who leans down over the console, clicking a red button to open the microphone.
âWhat exactly are you proposing?â
âWell, you were the one who pinned this on me, Han,â judging by their facial expressions, you know they understood exactly what you meant. They just want to make sure you are all on the same page. âWhy donât you come here and help me, so we can get this over with?â
âWhy him?â Changbin immediately asks, offended even because you didn't consider him as your first option.
âDo you want to help me too?â you chuckle, âbecause I wouldnât mind if you joinedâ.
âHan,â Chanâs cold voice interrupts the silence, catching the attention of the younger. He doesnât say anything else, but rather signals for him to get inside the recording booth with a tilt of his head.
Jisung doesnât say anything either, but his eyes flutter between you and Chan, almost begging for further instructions. He hesitates, perplexed. Not because he doesnât want this, but because he really canât begin to comprehend this is really happening.
âIf you donât want to, Changbin can do it,â the older speaks again.
âN-no, I mean- I can do it,â Jisung stands up from his studio chair abruptly and hastily, like he is in a rush. To be honest, he kind of is âhe has been daydreaming of this moment ever since he met you, so he isn't going to waste it. Even if that means there are going to be other people watching or involved. âI just- what do I do?â
Chan and Changbin scoff quietly, teasing him. âYou should ask her that question,â the former replies, crossing both of his arms and leaning back on his chair, ânot usâ.
âYeah, okayâ.Â
Jisung walks inside the booth, swallowing thickly. Is he really about to do this? Is he dreaming? Or is this some sort of a sick joke?
He canât help but overthink the situation, but every single one of his thoughts goes away when you welcome him into your embrace, holding him tightly against your body with his half-hard cock pressing against your lower abdomen and your tits against his toned chest. The other two are watching, and that only riles him up a lot more.
âHave you ever been this shy?â You tease him, wrapping your arms around his neck and brushing your lips against his. âYouâre always so cocky, always running your mouth. But right now you arenât. I wonder whyâ.Â
âWe donât have that much time,â Chan warns you through the speakers, and you can feel the despair in his voice. Like Changbin, heâs anticipating something and youâre edging them, just like you are to Jisung.Â
âThen Iâm going to need more help,â you hum, latching your fingers against Jisungâs dark hair while pulling him closer to the crook of your neck. He loses no time and starts kissing and licking the sensitive flesh, hiding his face there. You, on the other hand, look through the glass barrier proudly to the other two who are out. âFrom the both of youâ.Â
âOne isnât enough for you? Do you need the three of us?â Chan asks, poking his cheek with his tongue. Changbin, on the other hand, observes the scene in awe, with both excitement and impatience. You don't reply, but shoot an accomplice glance at the older. âI always knew you were some of a slut, I just didnât think this muchâ.
âWell, now you know,â you smile, biting your lower lip when Jisung sucks on a sensitive spot a bit too harshly, âso start recordingâ.Â
The following moments are blurry, perhaps because of how nervous you are. You try to act in control, like you're the one calling the shots. But when you feel the three of them near you, with their hands all over you, it's hard to.Â
âYouâre not that bold now, are you?â Chan whispers in your ear, pressing your arse against his crotch. To your sides, thereâs Jisung and Changbin, who grope and kiss your body as much as the other allows them to.
âIâm doing this for you,â you sigh, kicking your head back until it meets Chanâs shoulder.Â
âRight,â he scoffs, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to kneel in front of Changbin and Jisung. âWe just wanted your advice, but somehow we ended up like thisâ.
âI wonder why,â you tease him looking up to him while your hands tease the men in front of you.
âIâm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that sheâs such a filthy slut,â Changbin murmurs, caressing your hair back.Â
You can feel them through their sweatpants âyou can feel how hard and ready they are for you, how desperate they are for your touch. You wish to take your sweet time with them, to suck the three of until they come in your mouth only to fuck you afterwards.Â
You want more than just a quick fuck. But this will have to do for now.
âSuck them off,â Chan orders, pleased with the sight of you on your knees.Â
Good thing youâre wearing such accessible clothes today âyouâre making his job ten times easier.
âGet us nice and wet, baby,â Changbin proceeds, pulling your head against his crotch while he lowers his sweatpants just enough to release his throbbing cock. âWeâre going to fuck you with it, so itâs up to you how easy youâre going to make this for yourselfâ.
âDonât forget Jisung too,â the one behind you murmurs into your ear, practically kneeling right beside you while he pulls up your dress, revealing a shameful piece of clothing that he can barely name as underwear. The sight makes Chanâs cock throb even harder. âSee how much heâs leaking? I know he has been dreaming of this for a while nowâ.Â
âFucker,â Jisung hisses through gritted teeth, feeling betrayed by his friend. Truth is, he isnât telling any lies.
âAw, you have?â He has been infatuated with you for quite some time now, and he is too awkward to be discreet about it. You have caught him checking you out shamelessly, and it has always been a turn on for you.Â
âWe all have,â Changbin says, nibbling at his lower lip when you wrap your hand around his cock. You squeeze both of them hard, staring up at them with a mischievous smile. âIf only you knew what we talk about when youâre not aroundâ.Â
âMh, I feel a little excluded now,â you pout. âWhy donât you guys just show me?â
You spent another ten minutes on your knees, being throat fucked by your dearest friends Changbin and Jisung. They take turns in burying their cocks inside your warm mouth, using your hair as leverage to let you know which one of them to suck next.
In the meantime, Chan just watches.Â
Youâre drooling all over yourself by now, your shirt ruined with a mixture of spit, precum and sweat. Your skin feels sticky, your mouth feels full and your pussy feels wet âyou really wouldnât be surprised if the floor was stained with your arousal.
âCâme here,â Chan tells you, grabbing you by your arm and helping you get in a different position. Your knees are bruised and red, but you donât really care âtomorrow it will be a fun reminder of what happened today. âNow letâs really start recordingâ.Â
You lay on the floor on all fours, with your ass up and your hands and knees supporting your body weight. It's an uncomfortable position, but you can only do much in a recording booth with no bed or couches.
The first one to take a spot right behind you is Changbin. Out of the three, itâs the one who seems more desperate to get his release and you kind of understand him âyouâre desperate to feel something too, anything.
âI donât have-â his voice is strangled, almost panicking. You can feel his hands gripping your hips, and the tip of his cock brushing against your slit.Â
âI donât care,â you encourage him, whimpering when Chan forces your head to face his throbbing dick that he has his fist wrapped around. âJust fuck meâ.
Itâs the heat of the moment that's getting the best out of you, but you canât begin to regret it when you feel Changbinâs cock burying itself little by little inside your aching pussy. You try to hold back your moans, worrying that someone outside the hall might hear you, but you know itâs practically impossible.
Plus, thatâs the reason why youâre there, anyways.
 So you start enjoying the moment, being as vocal as possible. If anything, the lewd sounds escaping through your lips are only pushing Changbin towards the edge, hips snapping at yours roughly enough to get a series of strained moans immersed in both pleasure and pain.
âYou sound so g-good,â Changbin grunts, biting his lower lip to stop himself from being too loud. âHad I known your moans were this pretty, I've would've fucked you beforeâ.
âFuck, Changbinâ. The way his name falls from your lips boosts his ego, and heâs glad everything is being recorded. He makes a mental note to go back to the recording later today, just in case he needs to unwind.
âJisung will fuck you after him,â Chan demands your attention yet again, brushing the tip of his cock against your lips. Heâs kneeling in front of you while Changbin is pounding your pussy from behind. Jisung, on the other hand, is stroking himself while he witnesses the scene; too shy to actually make a move himself, like the rest of them. âAnd then I will go next, how does that sound?â
âHow many seconds- of the sample do you even need?â you chuckle, but the laugh is soon muffled by another whimper caused by Changbinâs ministrations.Â
âJust a couple,â he replies, smearing his precum along your lips. âBut Iâm sure you wouldnât want to leave this studio without being fucked by Jisung and me, right?â
You love his cockiness, and how he is always almost right. So you nod frantically, clenching around Changbin at the idea of being filled with the both of them in just a couple of seconds.
It doesnât take him long to come inside you, especially not with how much your pussy is clenching around him. He does so shamelessly, grunting your name and gripping your hips too harshly youâre sure it will leave a mark tomorrow.
When he pulls out, commanded by Jisung who is too desperate to wait another second, you feel his sticky arousal leaking out of you. Itâs a weird sensation, and it makes you feel dirty, but you canât deny you like it.Â
And you like it even more when you feel the tip of Jisungâs cock gathering all of his friendâs cum, fucking it back into you little by little, making sure it doesnât go to waste.
âWho wouldâve thought, hm?â You whimper, feeling a bit sore from Changbinâs aggressive care. âYouâre not as innocent as I thought, Jisungieâ.
He doesnât say anything, but gives you a sharp thrust in response. One that makes your whole body jolt and tremble, one that earns you one of the prettiest moans the three of them have ever heard.
Chan is sure the recording is good to be used by now, but he doesnât want to stop just yet. Or at least not until he also gets his fun.
âS-so tight,â Jisung murmurs, holding you more delicately than Changbin did. You love the contrast, though, and theyâre both a good fuck. âAnd warm, all filled up with cumâ.
âYouâre going to fill me up too, Jisungie?â On any other occasion, the nickname wouldâve earned you a killer gaze and a couple of curses from him. But right now, Jisung doesnât mind. In fact, he likes it. Thereâs something enticing about you acting like the one in control.
âCan- I?â He asks with a shakily breath. His sloppy movements tell you he is close, and you take it as a compliment. A minute is definitely a record, but youâre really not mad about it.Â
âThat depends,â you tease him, crying out loud when his cock starts hitting sensitive spots inside your walls. âAre you going to come a lot for me?âÂ
âNgh, y-yes,â Jisung whimpers. âPlease, Iâm- close, just let- say yes, pleaseâ.
âGo on,â you order him, arching your ass even more for him. âGive it to meâ.Â
Not even a couple of seconds later, you feel a now familiar sensation warming up your lower tummy, leaking through your pussy and onto your thighs.Â
âShit,â Changbin scoffs, checking the scene out. âYou made a fucking messâ.Â
You want to look at what he did, know how much he came for you, but Chan reinforces your initial position yet again by arching your ass even more.
âBe a good slut for me,â he tells you, landing a sharp spank on one of your ass cheeks. The sudden action makes you cry out in pain, but you donât hate the sensation completely. âAnd Iâll be good to youâ.
Youâre not quite sure what he means, and you donât get time to ask before heâs bottoming out inside of you.Â
âFuck!â you moan, suddenly losing the strength on your arms and your upper body threatening to plop down onto the floor. âC-chan!â
âCâme here,â he groans, sneaking a hand underneath your tummy looking for your clit. Again, the position isnât the best but he somehow makes it work. And when you feel his digits rubbing your nerves just at the same pace of his thrusts, you start clenching around him even harder.
âOh my g-god,â that stimulation is exactly what you need to come undone. Jisung and Changbin did a hell of a job getting you closer to your orgasm, but this is exactly what you needed to reach your climax.
And a well deserved one.
âCome,â Chan grunts through gritted teeth, biting his lower lip while furrowing his eyebrows. The sight of your ass bouncing against his cock is enough to get him to come, but he needs you to come first. âIâll come with youâ.
âNgh- Chan,â and just like some magic words, youâre coming right after his order. He can feel you tightening around him, trying to milk his cock just as badly as you did with the other two. And he canât resist that feeling, so he sticks up to his word and comes inside you almost at the same time.Â
âSuch- a good- little fucking slut,â his words are strained and painful. But his voice only contributes more to your own orgasm, just like the feeling of his cum filling you up.Â
It takes the two of you a few moments to actually stop âeven after coming, he kept on fucking you slowly until he made sure to fuck all of their cum inside of you. The last thing he wanted was to make a mess inside the recording booth, but it was inevitable.Â
The floor is stained with all sorts of fluids, ones that are dripping out of your swollen pussy and others that no one knows how they got there.Â
âJisung,â Chan sighs, caressing your hips while fixing his clothes. âStay with her, Iâll go get something to clean her up. Make sure sheâs alright, and take her to the sofa in the studio, âkay?â
Jisung nods, attentive, and he helps you get up off the floor with ease. He wraps his arm around you, and fixes the top part of your dress to which you mutter a quick and soft thank you.Â
âChangbinâs going to get you something to eat or drink, and Iâll take care of this. Alright?âÂ
You nod, still supporting your whole weight on Jisung. Your sore legs can only do much.
âHeâs going to be with you in the meantime, but we will all be right back,â Chanâs soft gaze is the opposite to what he showed inside the recording booth, but you absolutely adore the contrast.Â
âYeah, âs okay,â you smile.Â
âYou did good, yeah?â Chan smiles, caressing your hair, âsounded so pretty for usâ.
You offer them a weak, yet satisfied smile, âmy pleasureâ.Â
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Iâm kind of obsessed with the Jonmartin timeline and how Jon slowly fell in love with Martin, mostly off tape over seasons 2 and 3. I wrote a little bit of an essay trying to pinpoint the shifts and moments when we can tell something has changed. I love fanfics but I am just so interested in trying to figure out what happened in canon as close as possible. Of course this does involve speculation of emotions that we have no way of actually knowing because Jon Sims does not talk about his feelings.
Anyway itâs long-ish.
Jon fell in love with Martin over season 2 but didnât start to realize it until late season 3 just before The Unknowing.
Martin starts the show with a crush on Jon. In MAG 22 when Martin makes his statement about the worms Jon feels guilty over how all of the pressure heâs put Martin under drives him to put himself in danger and he has Martin move into the archives to protect him which may be the first caring gesture he has made towards Martin but itâs a big one. Martin, who had a decent size crush on Jon beforehand, is blown away by this and his crush becomes a real big one.
Jon tries to continue being hard on Martin but he does noticeably soften towards him. His criticisms are half-hearted.
During Jane Prenticeâs attack when Martin and Jon are in document storage Martin calls Jon out and properly snaps at him for dismissing the supernatural and Jon actually sees Martin in this moment for the first time. Martin had never talked back to him in such a way and Jon can now see him as not just his assistant who makes a lot of mistakes but as an equal who might know better than him in some aspects. They have their heart to heart and Jon is able to be honest for the first time since taking this job. He admits heâs scared and itâs okay, well itâs not okay because Jane Prentice might be moments away from killing them, but Martin doesnât think any less of him. And then Jon asks if Martin is a ghost and heâs wrong and it was stupid but Martin makes fun of him in a way that doesnât hurt and Jon isnât used to that. And Martin, seeing this open and fragile and slightly dumb part of Jon, starts falling in love.
After Martin finds Gertrudeâs body Jon is one track minded and focused on finding out what happened. Martin, giving his statement about the tunnels, is in tears not because he found a body and was scared, but because he accidentally left Jon. Jon was too distracted with finding answers at the moment but he heard it and absorbed it over time.
Season 2 Jon is full of nothing but paranoia and is unwilling to trust anyone but itâs his obsessive observations that lead him to getting to know Martin enough to love him. When Jon tries to come back from leave early Martin forces Jon to go home and rest more. Jon wonders what Martin is hiding but reasons that, no Martin is actually concerned about his health. Jon thinks Martin gave him a fake jar of ashes to calm him down, he doesnât seem to think this gesture is part of a conspiracy, he genuinely thinks of this gesture as Martin lying to him to make him feel better. Jon notes that Martin has been very attentive to his needs and recovery and that he is interested to hear Jonâs theories about Gertrude. He remarks that he has observed Martinâs competence and cunning. Of course Jon is ridiculously paranoid and interprets this attention as some kind of plot against him to slow down his investigation and sees these positive attributes of Martin as reasons to see him as a threat, but again, Jon is absorbing it all. The lines in Jonâs supplementals about Martinâs attention to him implies that theyâre spending a lot of time together off tape, at least more than they ever used to, probably at Martinâs insistence and Jon accepting this time by justifying to himself that he needs to watch Martin.
In MAG 53 Jon mentions that Martin hovers near him when he goes to the canteen and Martin says itâs because heâs concerned (based on Jonâs lie about how he got the cut from Michael). Martin offers to pick up a sandwich from the cafe and bring it back for Jon. He doesnât ask Jon to come with him and Jon acts like heâs annoyed to be around Martin when he sits with him in the canteen, but Jon decides, No instead of me refusing the gesture for food or saying yes please pick up that sandwich for me, he says âIâll come withâ making another decision to spend time with Martin when he doesnât have to. Maybe Jon tries to justify this to himself again by saying heâs keeping an eye on Martin but Jon has made no efforts to go spend extra time with Tim, who was an equal suspect, even before Tim was mad at Jon. (And may I add, if Jon tried this tactic with Tim, going out to lunch, watching him by spending time with him etc. maybe Tim wouldnât have ended up being so angry with Jon.) But Jon is definitely making the effort to spend time with Martin when it frankly has nothing to do with his investigation no matter how he tries to spin it.
In MAG 56 when Jon makes Martin tell him what heâs been hiding and he finds out Martin had lied on his CV he is so relieved that he is giddy. He is smiling, laughing and stuttering. To Jonâs ârationalâ mind this doesnât fully clear Martin of suspicion but emotionally this really seems to be a weight off of his shoulders. On a subconscious level he can start to allow the time theyâve spent together to mean something other than just spying.
Meanwhile Martin can see what a hard time Jon is having and he can see him spinning out of control with paranoia and Martin tries really hard to defend him, maybe not the best thing, we know Martin is a bit of an enabler for Jon, but for Jonâs emotional arc of falling in love with Martin it is important that Jon hears Martin defending him to Tim in MAG 58. Martin never stops calling Jon out on his shit like when he tells Jon that he needs to talk to Tim and that Tim isnât wrong but nowadays it feels like everyone is constantly calling Jon out, not that he doesnât deserve it, but when Martin calls him out itâs still clear that he cares, whereas anyone else talking to Jon just seems to speak to him with malice.
At the beginning of season 3 Jon is hiding out and staying at Georgieâs place. We know from Season 4 MAG 149 that Jon used to go on about Martin to Georgie âa lotâ. Georgie got the full story about The Archives in MAG 93 and Jon decides to move out of Georgieâs place in MAG 99 when he was then kidnapped by The Circus. Thereâs usually a week of time that passes between episodes unless otherwise implied and 93 and 94 take place over the same conversation on the same day so Iâll assume 5 weeks in which Jon was going on about Martin a lot with full context. He probably talked about him before then too only more cryptically. Importantly though in the Season 4 Q&A Alex asks, Who knew that Jon liked Martin first, Jon or Martin? And Jonny said âGeorgieâ so even though Jon didnât know it yet, he was obviously smitten (at least obvious to Georgie who has dated Jon and recognizes signs of affection and romance in him more than anyone else would).
When Jon talks to Martin in MAG 102 there is a very slight almost imperceptible sweetness in Jonâs voice that weâve never heard before. The way he assures Martin that itâs ok that he didnât know he was kidnapped. There is a lot of awkwardness and frankly a lot of heavy breathing from both of them for probably just standing there. Their casual talk about the overall institute and Hannah who is having her baby and had that thing with the milk in the break room last year, Jon doesnât know who she is but Martin knows that Jon knows her probably because they had been around her together since they spent so much time together last year but Jon was too paranoid and she had nothing to do with the plot, itâs just a very normal and domestic moment. Jon tells Martin he knows heâs been reading statements and Martin is just worried Jon will be jealous that heâs taking some of his job but instead Jon is just concerned for him. Itâs different and they both know itâs different and they can both feel the conversation is charged with something but they donât know what. âItâs not too late. Unless the world endsâ means a lot in this conversation, yes it does literally mean itâs not too late for them to talk and continue whatever friendship they were stumbling towards in season 2. Itâs not too late for them to pick up this weird, oddly charged and tender conversation that may be leading somewhere else. Itâs also foreshadowing that it sort of is too late because their world will end when Jon effectively dies stopping the Unknowing.
By MAG 114 Jon says that he has listened to all of the tapes and has therefore heard the gossip about he and Martin. I think something clicked in his brain when he heard that Martin has a crush on him. He probably never considered that idea because things like romance are never on the forefront of his mind especially when he is in active danger, which he has been for the last 2 years, and even more so he wouldnât expect someone to have feelings for him in general. Being conscious of the notion that Martin has feelings for him lead him to consider all of the strange feelings heâs been having about Martin over the last year and a half in a way that he might not have gotten to on his own until much later. Itâs all part of the plan that Jon suggests Martin stay back at the Institute in front of Elias but Jon is genuinely relieved that Martin will be safer there.
In MAG 117 Jon talks about Daisy and Basiraâs bond and how heâs been having to do everything by himself. Heâs envious of their bond and we can tell heâs been thinking about how things could be if he had someone (Martin) by his side. I donât think this part of his testament would have played out this way had he not been thinking a lot since he heard the tape. When he addresses the âoffice gossipâ he is flustered. Possibly embarrassed that Georgie, who he trusts, was giving out this personal information to Melanie but I actually think heâs used to that specific type of gossip about him and I think that the nervous stutter and searching for words comes from trying to address the other part of the gossip, which he is still trying to wrap his head around.
It isnât confirmed but I do think that Jon listened to everyoneâs testimony before leaving and he heard Martinâs âI need him to be okâ. Later in MAG 139 Jon says âI need him to be okay. I just do.â I donât think heâs consciously repeating the same phrase but I think this phrase has lived with him ever since he heard Martin say it and now itâs just organic to Jon too.
I genuinely do believe that at this point, as of MAG 117, all of Jonâs feelings for Martin are already there and internally he has at least accepted romantic feelings even if he wouldnât have called it love then.
Jon is put in a 6 month coma the next night and is in a full tilt romantic arc the moment he wakes up. Not 20 minutes after waking from his coma he wants to see Martin, heâs surprised that Martin wasnât there for him the moment he woke up. Maybe if you asked him the next day heâd say it was a silly notion for him to just expect Martin to be there at any given point no matter when he woke up, but a part of him accepted and knew that if Martin could have he would have been there.
Anyway, all this is to say that if he woke up from a coma desperately in love with Martin all of those feelings had to have been present before the coma. I know there was a lot more thought and consideration and emotional work that Jon had to do over season 4 before he could have been ready for his love to literally save Martin but all of the feelings were there by the time he woke up.
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