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atlafan · 2 months ago

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candy

summary: harry needs to learn how to use his mouth better, so he goes to see someone who can help him with just that words: 7.9K warnings: sex work, oral (giving and receiving) a/n: not proofread I the song candy by cameo inspired this, def recommend listening because it's so good I if you like what you read here, please consider joining my patreon for access to exclusive fics not posted on tumblr I i haven't posted fic on here in a while. Please, please, please reblog, leave notes in the tags, and/or send me asks!!

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Harry was…embarrassed, to say the least. But he supposes places and services like these exist for a reason, so he shouldn’t be ashamed for going. Plus, if he boiled it down, he’s going for purely academic purposes. He needs help with something, and he’s going straight to the source to become a pro.

Taking a deep breath, Harry opens the door to the lobby of the building and goes straight to the elevator to the eighteenth floor. He takes his phone out to look at the code he was instructed to punch into the keypad on the door, and then he’s buzzed in, able to check in at reception.

“Um, hi.” He says just above a whisper to the woman behind the semi-circle desk.

“Good afternoon, sir.” She smiled warmly. “How may I help you?”

“I have an appointment at 4PM with, uh,” he looks down at his phone, “is her name really Candy?”

“No.” She chuckles. “But all of the girls have stage names, so to speak. It’s for extra security. Please, have a seat, and I’ll let her know you’re here.” She gestures to the waiting area where a few other men are waiting. God, this is mortifying, he thinks.

Harry sits down and keeps his eyes locked on his lap, not wanting to make eye-contact with any of the other guys there.

“Mr. S.?” He hears the woman from behind the desk say. “You can head down to room ten.” She gestures to the hallway and Harry gets up to go, grateful just his initial was used and not his actual name. He needs privacy just the same as these women.

When he finds room ten, he punches in the same code into the keypad and goes inside. The room is dimly lit. It looks like a large bedroom, a master suite. There’s a king-sized bed, but also a loveseat, three-seater couch, and a bureau. He also spies what looks like a bathroom. Wow, nothing’s even happened yet, and Harry’s already realizing that this is going to be worth every penny.

“Hey, baby.” Candy comes out of the bathroom dressed in a black, silk teddy dress and heels. She’s wearing thigh-high stockings as well. “Can I take your jacket for you?” Harry nods at that and unbuttons his suit jacket, shimmying it off and handing it to Candy. She makes a show of walking over to the small closet and hangs it up on a hanger before coming back to him. “This is your first time here, isn’t it.” It’s not a question, but Harry still nods. “You don’t need to be nervous, baby. You booked me for three hours, so we have all the time in the world to get comfortable. Do you want something to drink?” She gestures to the bar cart on the other side of the room.

“No, thank you.”

“Alright.”

“And I don’t want you to have one either.”

“Then I won’t.” She smiles. “Do you want to sit on the bed, the couch…?”

“The couch.” He decides, and they both go sit on it. Candy tucks her feet under her bum and props her head on her fist, resting her elbow on the back of the couch. “You’re very,” his eyes drift down to her cleavage, then back up to her face, “pretty.”

“Well, thank you, baby.” She gives him a beaming smile. “You’re a sight for sore eyes yourself.” She laughs. “I have to do this with a lot of guys I’m not particularly attracted to. I got a little excited when I saw you were assigned to me today.”

“That’s kind of you.” He blushes. “They make you have sex with guys you normally wouldn’t say yes to?”

“I mean, no one makes me do anything. There’s about a dozen different secret buttons around this room for me to press to call for security. No one gives us any trouble here, but you should know, there’s no funny business.”

“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything without your permission.”

“So, why don’t you tell me what you want, baby? How can I make you feel good? I can suck you off, let you bend me over the bed, or-“

“I want to go down on you.” He blurts out, and it takes her off guard.

“Come again?”

“I want to go down on you.” He repeats, a little slower this time. “That’s all.”

“Are you serious?”

“Do guys not normally go down on you?”

“No, some do, but most guys are here to take care of their own needs, mine don’t usually matter. Not that I mind. I have to use so much lube to get even remotely wet for some of these guys. I’m thankful that a lot of them don’t even ask to go down on me.”

“Oh.” He looks away for a moment, then back to her. “So, this is weird…”

“Nah, everyone has their kinks and fetishes. If you like going down on women, then-“

“I need practice at it.” His cheeks heat for the millionth time that day. “I’m not very good at it, not confident, and I can tell when I’m with a woman, or someone with a vagina, that…well, I get the tap a lot.”

“The tap?”

“You know,” he taps the top of one of his shoulders, “when someone gives you the tap to cut it out and get on with it. I’m confident with my cock, lots of orgasms have been had on my cock, but I know that’s not always what a woman wants, and I care so much about getting a woman off, but it’s so awkward to have to keep asking, ‘do you like that’, or, ‘is that good’. So, I just need someone to practice on so I can get better at it, and then feel more confident when I’m having relations with someone.”

“You’re telling me you’ve tried to go down on women, and they haven’t told you how to do it?”

“Some try, and then they just get frustrated, and then I get frustrated. And…I’m not all that confident with my fingers either. Sometimes I can make it happen, and other times I can’t. I feel like making a woman come during foreplay is really important. It helps them relax, gets them more into it, and then I feel better, which means I can perform better.”

“So, you booked me for three hours so I can help you get better at eating someone out, and that’s all you want to do?”

“Yes.” He nods. “I’ll probably come in my pants from doing it. I get off knowing I’m getting someone else off. So, if it’s okay with you, I’ll probably just strip down to my underthings, so I don’t ruin my pants.”

“Baby, I see people naked every day, of course it’s okay with me.”

“Do you call every guy baby?”

“I…what?”

“I don’t want to be called what you call everyone else. It feels impersonal. How am I your baby already? We just met.”

“Well, are you a precious thing.” She smooths his hair back from his forehead. “What would you like to be called? A lot of guys don’t use their real names, same as me.”

“I’d rather be called by my name. Is that okay?”

“Yes, and don’t worry, you have my discretion. We all sign NDA’s when we take on new clients.”

“That’s good to know.” Harry sighs with relief. “My job…I’m one of the faces of my company.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” He shrugs.

“Did you ask any of your friends how they approach things? Or, like, have you watched lesbian porn? It’s still exaggerated, but no one knows how to go down on a woman more than another woman, in my opinion.”

“I was too embarrassed to ask my friends. We don’t talk about things like this. They only brag about the good stuff, no one talks about their weaknesses. And I have watched…all kinds of porn, and as helpful as the visuals are, I learn much better by doing.”

“Okay.” Candy stands and claps her hands together. “Let’s get comfortable on the bed. I think we should act out what you usually do when you’re getting ready to sleep with someone. Kiss me, touch me, do whatever you usually do with a woman.”

Harry nods and stands up. “My name’s Harry.”

“Hi, Harry.” She smooths her hands up his chest. “Can I loosen your tie for you?”

“Yes.” He watches her nimble fingers work the knot and slides it off his collar. She takes the material between her thumb and index finger.

“This is quality material.”

“I don’t fuck around with my clothes.” He smirks, letting some personality shine through, and she makes an impressed face. He takes the tie from her and gently places it to hang on the back of the couch. He brings his hand up and tucks some hair behind Candy’s ear, a little unsure of how to start. “So, we can kiss? You want to do this really?”

“Yes, Harry, I do.”

Hearing his name on her lips sends a zip of electricity through his body. He leans in and brushes his Cupid’s bow against hers, then takes her top lip between his own. He gives it a gentle suck, and revels in the way she kisses him back. She keeps it slow, going at his pace. His hands cup her jaw as he licks into her mouth. Candy moans lowly, melting into him.

They stand there like that for a while, just the sounds of their lips smacking, their breaths huffing, and the spit being swapped between them filling the room. Harry presses his pelvis against Candy’s, and she squeaks, immediately putting a hand over his erection to palm it. He snatches her wrist and shakes his head no.

“But, you’re hard.”

“That’s not what I want from you.” He brings her knuckles up to his lips, kissing on them, and then up her arm and to her neck.

“Oh, fuck.” She moans breathlessly, clutching at the hair on the back of his head to keep him where he is. “I love being bitten.”

Harry whimpers into her, nipping at her tender skin a little harder. Her other hand flies to his back, clutching at the material of his dress shirt. Her knees nearly buckle when his teeth nip at her earlobe. He walks her back towards the bed, and they topple on top of it. Harry wedges his thigh between Candy’s and grinds it in hard.

Candy is absolutely perplexed. Surely this Harry guy is joking because from kissing alone, she can’t imagine him not knowing what to do with her other set of lips. He’s insanely good at this part of things.

His teeth drag along her collarbones, and his hand hovers over one of her breasts. “Can I touch you here?” He asks.

“Yes.” She presses her hand over his, squeezing. “Kiss me here too.”

Harry nods and sucks on her nipple through the silk material of her teddy. She lets out a loud moan, and Harry moves to sit up. Unbuckling his belt, he shimmies out of his pants, leaving his boxer-briefs on, and undoes his dress shirt, taking that, along with his white t-shirt, off, then gets his mouth back on Candy’s.

“Jesus, you’re ripped.” She says, smoothing her hands over every hard ridge of his abdomen. “And your tattoos…so sexy.”

“Has everything been okay so far?”

“Better than okay. You’re a really good kisser.”

“I’m gonna work my way down now.” He tells her, kissing down her silk covered body. He pushes the material up to bunch around her hips. “You’re not wearing any underwear.”

“I’m aware.”

“Don’t women like being teased over them?”

“Some do, and some don’t. I personally don’t like it, so I don’t usually wear any panties under my teddies.

“Right, I need to remember not everyone is the same.” He says more to himself. “Okay, walk me through it.”

“Just do what you normally do, and I’ll correct you if need be.”

Harry nods and spreads Candy’s lips apart. She’s glistening, and it goes right to his cock because she literally just told him she needs lube for most of her clients, and she clearly doesn’t need any for him. He leans in and-

“I’m gonna stop you right there. This is where you should be teasing me.” She props herself up on her elbows. “Kiss on my inner thighs, blow cool air over me. I should be quivering and pulsing for you.”

Harry kisses from Candy’s inner left knee, and down, down, down, blows cool air over her sex, and then kisses up her other inner thigh. He sucks bruise after bruise into her, and she puts one of her legs over his shoulder, pulling him in by digging her heel into his back.

“I’m ready now, want it.”

“And should I be quick to give it to you, or should I keep teasing?”

“Keep teasing but give me your fingers first.” He raises a hand to her, and she takes two fingers into her mouth. She takes them down deep until she’s spitting up, soaking them. “Slide them through my folds.”

Harry almost blew his load right then and there. He brings his fingers down and slides them up through Candy’s folds. She spreads her legs wider and uses her own fingers to pull her outer lips up and apart so he can see her clit.

“I know where the clitoris is.” He rolls his eyes.

“Apparently you don’t if you’re getting the tap, as you called it.” She smirks. “Just take a second to look at it. It’s throbbing for you, Harry, all swollen and full of blood. It wants your tongue, your hot mouth, so badly.”

“Fuck.” He leans in and licks over it with the flat of his tongue.

“Good, do that again.” And he does, he gives it long licks over and over again. “Now, spit on it, watch it slide down my slit.” She watches him do it. “Okay, now do what you usually do.”

It felt good, at first. Candy liked the way Harry’s tongue swirled around her clit, but before she could sink into it, he licked into her cunt and curled his tongue, which also felt good, but again, by the time it was really starting to do something for her, he dragged his tongue back up to her clit. Normally, this would be edging, but this isn’t fun edging. She thinks that Harry is unaware of what he’s doing.

“Stop.” She tells him, and he does. “I see the problem.”

“How bad was it?”

“It wasn’t terrible, but you keep changing it up too quickly. It’s not a race.”

“I know that.”

“Then why do you keep moving from my clit to my hole every two seconds? You’re not giving me enough time to enjoy it while it’s happening. You gotta pick one and stick with it. What do you feel more confident with, tonguing my clit or my hole?”

“I…” He sits back and blushes. “I guess this is the part where I’m a little selfish and greedy. I feel more confident working the clit with my mouth, but I really like to taste and suck on the pussy.”

“Harry,” she chuckles, “you’re allowed to be selfish and greedy. All of that is going towards pleasuring your partner. And that doesn’t mean you can’t still do both, you just need to listen to your partner a little. See what they like, get them off, then go be gluttonous and have your feast.”

“Okay.” He nods. “How do you like it, then?”

“Don’t worry about that-“

“Candy, I really want to make you come.”

“Alright.” She nods and lays back. “I need constant stimulation to my clit, and I need fingers inside me. Get me off that way, and then you can suck on my pussy.” Harry smiles softly and dives back in, wrapping his lips around Candy’s clit. “That’s good, while you suck with your mouth, use your tongue to swirl around my clit…oh, fuck, yeah, just like that.” She reaches to brush a few stray curls back off his forehead. “And look up at me, watch me go through the motions.” His eyes flit up to hers, and her hips buck towards his mouth. “Such pretty green eyes, Harry.”

He moans and slides his middle finger inside of her. She’s so wet, and it’s driving him crazy. He ruts into the mattress, so desperate to taste everything she’s giving him. But he wants to do this right, so he focuses on her clit.

“I need two.” Harry slips a second finger inside her. “Good, pump them in and out slowly, let’s build up to things. And it’s also okay to give your mouth a break, it’s all part of the teasing.” He pops off her and watches his fingers go in and out of her tight hole. “Spit on it, keep it messy.” Harry spits onto her clit. “Now suck it back into your mouth and flick that tongue against my clit.”

He’s a good listener, open to constructive feedback, so he does as told. He’s rewarded when he feels Candy tighten around her fingers. Harry thrusts them deep inside, keeping them there as he curls them to pet against that spongey bump. Candy gasps and props herself up on her elbows as she watches Harry. Her mouth falls open and she starts rocking against him, moving her hips along with his fingers. A man hasn’t found her g-spot in ages, if ever.

“Like that, j-just like that, Harry.” She bites into her bottom lip, and he looks up at her as his tongue licks her clit in tight circles. The sound of her wetness is driving Harry crazy, but he pushes his urge to taste her down. This is about Candy right now. “Oh, wow. Wow, wow, wow, wow.” Her head falls back, and her hips raise. Her back arches, and she starts moaning out loudly, uncontrollably. “Don’t stop, Harry. Fuck, please, please, please, please! Ah, ah, ah!”

When Candy comes, she snaps her legs closed around Harry’s wrist, and nearly snaps it from the way she twitches and moves. She grabs the base of his wrist and moves it so he’ll keep fucking his fingers into her through the aftershocks. She moans gutturally one more time before falling limply against the bed.

Harry slowly pulls his fingers out of her and sucks on them. He looks down at Candy’s drenched core and lifts her thighs over his shoulders before licking inside.

“Oh!” She gasps and tugs on his hair, not to get him to stop, though. Harry moans as he drinks her in. “S-spread my cheeks and lick my other hole too.” His eyes light up, like he’s just been given a golden ticket. In a matter of seconds, he’s flipping Candy onto her stomach and pulling her up by her hips so he can spread her ass and lick her puckered hole properly. “Fuck, Harry, that’s so good. You can smack my ass too, if you want.” She jolts forward when his large hand comes down hard on her cheek. “Fuck me with your fingers from behind, really beat them into me.”

This time, Harry fucks her with three fingers, and he does it rapidly as he continues eating her peach.

“Harry, I…I think I’m gonna…” she doesn’t get to finish her sentence. The wave of relief crashes over her and she gushes. Harry’s fingers slide out, and slap against her clit quickly, keeping the mess flowing. “Fucking hell.” Her chest heaves as she moves to lay on her back. Harry lays down next to her.

“So, all of that was good?”

“It was very good.” She pats at his chest. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve come so hard.” She turns her head to look at him. “Did you end up blowing in your underwear?”

“Yeah.” He smiles sheepishly. “It was hard not to.”

“Damn, I would have gladly sucked you off after all that.”

“I’ll get hard again.” He waves her off. “We’re not done yet.”

“Right, you still have me for a couple more hours. Did you want to fuck now?” She turns on her side to face him fully, and he mirrors her, resting his hand on her hip, rubbing her skin affectionately with his thumb.

“No, I want you to sit on my face so I can practice that way. One time with you facing me, and another with you facing away.”

“Okay, just…I need a minute.”

“Sure, take your time.” He smiles softly, keeping his hand on her hip. “You probably hear this all the time, but you have a beautiful body.”

“I do hear that a lot, but it feels more genuine coming from a nice guy like you.” She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “Whoever you’re practicing all this for is going to be a lucky girl.”

The air in the room feels tense for a beat.

“Okay, we’ll start off with me facing you.” Candy says. “This way is all about the woman. Then, we’ll do it with me facing away from you and I’ll suck you off at the same time. It’s good to practice staying focused on your girl’s pleasure while she’s pleasuring you.”

“That sounds good.” He lays back, a little nervous. “There’re so many different ways to do this. Like, should I just stick my tongue out flat and let you grind against it? Should I just suck on your clit? Should I have you rub against my nose while you ride my tongue?”

“You’re over thinking it, Harry. It’s up to the girl you’re fucking to set how she wants it. Personally, I’d love it if you put your tongue up inside me. I’ll rub my own clit.”

“What should I do with my hands?”

“You can squeeze and smack my ass, rub my rim.”

“Fuck.” He murmurs. “Get on me, now.”

Candy swings her leg over Harry’s face and hovers over him for a moment. She squeaks when he pulls her down. He licks up inside her slowly, letting her adjust to the muscle, then he pulls her down even more until she’s fully seated on top of him. She spits onto her fingers and lazily rubs her clit as she grinds down on his tongue. Harry curls it and flicks it inside her, moaning at the taste. His large hands squeeze her ass, giving her a few swats before spreading her apart and rubbing the pad of his thumb around her rom.

“Ah, fuck.” Her head tips back and free hand buries in his hair. “You can put your thumb in, if you want.” Harry doesn’t need to be told twice. He gently works his thumb into her tight hole. “Yeah, just like that.” She moves her hips in slow circles, reveling in the way Harry’s moaning and groaning underneath her. She’s soaked and he’s slurping on her. “I…I think I’m getting close already, wow.” This never happens. It usually takes her a while to start feeling that familiar tingle at the base of her spine, but she’s rubbing her clit faster and moving on Harry’s tongue faster, and then she’s screaming. “Shit, Harry!” She yanks roughly on his hair as she comes, and she comes hard. She goes to move off him, but he keeps her seated, mumbling something against her. “What?” She asks breathlessly.

“M'not done yet.” He says, briefly coming up for air before diving back in. He sucks her clit with one last pop, then pets her ass. “Okay, you can turn around now.”

Candy swivels around and leans forward, pressing her hands into the mattress between Harry’s legs.

“There’s a few ways to do this, but I can’t stress this enough, everyone is different, so I’m going to tell you how I like it.”

“Okay.” He presses a kiss to one of her cheeks, and it makes her face sizzle. Why did he have to be so cute. “Tell me how you like it.”

“Fuck me from behind with your fingers, bury your face in my ass, and use your free hand to rub my clit.” She slips her hand into his briefs to pull his cock out. “How do you like your blow jobs?”

“Sloppy, don’t…don’t be pretty about it.��

Candy responds by spitting on the tip and taking it into her mouth. Harry’s mouth falls open, loving the way her hot mouth feels on him. But he has a mission to accomplish. He’s working on building a tolerance. He runs his fingers between her wet folds before slipping them inside. From there, he does exactly how she told him: his mouth works her ass, his fingers pound into her g-spot, and his free hand rubs her clit.

“Ohhhh, shit, Harry.” She gasps around his cock, choking a little. She pulls all the way off and jerks him.

“Candy.” He moans. “Did I find it, sweetheart?”

“Yes, you did, yes, yes, yes!” She moves back against him to meet his thrusts, then gets her mouth back on him. She takes him down her throat, gagging around him, and using that spit to jerk him a little faster.

Their bodies are so in sync. They’re both wet and drippy for the other, both spurring the other on. The second Harry feels Candy spasming around his fingers, he lets himself come, and Candy swallows all of it, sucking him dry before rolling off onto her back.

“Holy shit.” She breathes.

“Yeah.” He gives her ankle a fond squeeze as his chest heaves. “You’re something else.”

“You’re unreal.”

“You taste really good.”

“So do you.” She turns her head to look at the clock on the wall. “You have me for hour and a half. What do you feel like doing?”

“We just did all of that in thirty minutes?” He sits up. “That was really fast.”

“Yes, it was.” She giggles. “But it was good.”

“Come here, come sit in my lap.” Candy does so, wrapping her legs around his waist. “You’re so beautiful.” He runs his thumb over her bottom lip.

“And you’re sweet.” She hugs him, resting her face in the crook of his neck. “How come you booked me up for the rest of my shift?”

“Because I could.”

“Oooh, well, aren’t you special.” She pulls back and smirks at him. “You know, most of the people that come here are wealthy, so that doesn’t impress me.”

“I wasn’t trying to. You asked me a question, and I gave you an honest answer. I don’t like doing these types of things with people and then leaving immediately after. I needed extra time for this.” He lets himself fall back, keeping her to lay mostly on top of him.

“Oh.” She snuggles into him. “Well, I rarely get to cuddle, so this is fine by me.”

“Do you like this line of work? I’ve always admired sex workers. This isn’t an easy job at all. It takes a lot of courage and bravery.”

“Thank you for saying that. I’m one of the luckier ones. I’m not on drugs, can’t be because they do regular blood tests. I have a salary, a retirement account, and other benefits. It could be a lot worse.”

“Do you also provide escort services?”

“No. Some girls do, but I don’t. I like to keep everything related to this job in this room.”

“Is this all you do for work, or is this a side hustle?”

“Nope, full time, hence being a salaried worker.

“Oh, duh.” He chuckles, then reaches for one of the throw blankets to drape over them. “So, how’d you end up here?”

“Most of us are all a thin line away from being homeless. My job let me go when COVID first happened. You can only stay on unemployment for so long. All these companies say no one wants to work, but no one wants to hire either. And, I’m sorry, but I’m not settling. I should be paid enough that I shouldn’t need a side hustle. One of my friends who ended up having a sugar daddy told me about this place. I started out part-time, just to pay some bills, but they told me some people wanted repeat appointments, then I was getting regulars, then I was getting paid more. It all sort of just fell into place, and I didn’t look back.”

“What were you doing for work beforehand?”

“I was a backend coder for a major financial firm. They got rid of the entire department and contracted out their cyber needs from a company that specialized in that because it made more sense fiscally.” She rolls her eyes. “It was for the best, I hated it.”

“And you love this?”

“Honestly, I like it a lot better than sitting behind three monitors all day, five days a week. I’ve actually gotten in better shape from having sex full time. Do I have to fake it for most guys, yeah, but none of them are mean to me. They just want someone to make them feel special for a little while, and I’ve found that I like having the power and ability to do that.”

“You have more control over your own life.”

“Exactly.” She looks up at him. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I…sort of own an airline company.”

“How do you sort of own an airline?”

“I’m a nepo baby.” He smiles sheepishly. “My father stepped down a few years ago so I could move up while he was still around. I’m lucky and fortunate, so I try not to complain about things too much. So many people have it far worse than I do.”

“Wait a second…Harry S…” She sits up and scrambles away from him. “You’re Harry Styles!”

“Is that a bad thing?” He sits up. “Shit, please don’t tell me you’ve fucked my dad.”

“No, it’s nothing like that. But you have fucked one of my friends. You used to date Jennifer Harris, right?”

“Yeah, years ago.”

“Fuck! And now I have to keep this insane secret from her. She’d be so pissed off, Harry, like, you have no idea.”

“If you’re such good friends with her, then hoe come we’ve never met prior to this?”

“I didn’t become friends with her until after you two parted ways. She told me so much about your relationship. She never mentioned anything about you being bad in bed, though.”

“I never said I was bad in bed either, I just needed some help getting better at one aspect of it.” He gets off the bed and starts pulling his clothes back on. “How, uh, how is she? I know she got married a year or so ago.”

“She’s doing well. Her and her husband are a great couple. They’re trying for a baby.”

“I’m glad she found someone that could give her the attention she deserves. I wasn’t very good at that. I also wasn’t ready to settle down, and she was. How did you two become friends?”

“She owns the lingerie store I buy stuff from.”

“Ohhhh, right.” He nods, zipping his pants and buttoning his shirt. “That makes sense. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. You clearly didn’t know it was me. You didn’t look at any pictures from when she and I were together?”

“Your hair was longer! And you weren’t as, I don’t know, beefy.”

“Thank you?” He questions with a smirk. “Is this going to be a problem? Because I’d like to be able to come back and see you again.” He makes his way over to her and tilts her head up by curling his finger under her chin.

“But…why? You did so well today.”

“I wanna see if it’s just as good for a repeat performance. And then I’d need to come back again after that to test out some of the other things I do during sex so I can get an honest review.” He leans down and brings his lips to the shell of her ear, “And I just know you’re dying to know what it’ll feel like to have my cock deep inside you.”

“Jesus Christ.” She clutches at his shoulders. “You’re going to put me in a very difficult situation.”

“You can say no to my appointment requests, but I’d be very disappointed if you did.” He pecks her lips. “I know you want to see me again.” He pecks her lops again, a little longer this time. “Hm? Wanna see me again, Candy?” He takes her bottom lip between his and he cups her jaw, licking into her mouth. She moans against him. Before she has a chance to really kiss him back, he pulls away. “God, I’d love to spit right into this pretty mouth.”

“You can.”

“Next time, I will.” He presses a kiss to her forehead. “Enjoy the rest of your evening. I’ll come back soon.”

Harry leaves the room, walks down the hall, and out of the suite. The second he’s back down on the street, he sucks in a breath and turns into the alley to try and calm himself down. He’s never that confident and forward with women. But she brought something out of him. When she mentioned Jennifer…it made something snap. He fucking hates Jennifer. So, if he inadvertently makes her suffer by having sex with her good friend, then so be it. Because Candy isn’t someone that Harry is going to be able to stay away from. Not after they shared something so wonderfully intimate.

Harry thought he’d be able to book another appointment to see Candy again way sooner, but his jaw hangs open as he looks at her availability on the app. Since he’s come in once, he’s been invited into the company’s app so he can book meetings on his own.

Two weeks. Candy doesn’t have another opening for two entire weeks. He grumbled to himself and books her entire evening on the first day he sees she’s free. And for good measure, he books out a couple other appointments so he’s not left scrambling. And for each one, he maxes out the five hour limit.

One time with this woman and he’s already pussy whipped!

The two weeks are torture. He’s jittery and agitated at work. Running it off in the gym does very little for him.

But finally, the day has come to see her again. Harry goes after work and follows the sale procedures, only this time, he’s not at all embarrassed. When his name is called, he all but sprints to Candy’s door and punches in the code. He doesn’t see her right away, but then, there she is, coming out of the bathroom in a red, silk teddy. She gives him a soft, almost shy, smile.

Harry closes the distance between them, cups her jaw, and kisses her deeply. It takes her by surprise, but it’s a welcomed one.

“Mm.” He pulls away and looks down at her before kissing her again. “Missed these lips.”

“I’m sorry I was so busy.” She circles around him to take his suit jacket off, sauntering to the closet to hang it up. “I have a few snowbirds, and they all decided to basically come see me at once before they all go back to Florida or whatever.”

“You fuck guys that much older than you?”

“Mhmm.” She loosens his tie and gives it a tug to slip it off, placing it on the back of one of the chairs. “It’s no so bad.” Her eyes find his. “Let’s talk about you. How have you been?” She leads him to the couch so they can sit and chat.

“Work’s been stressful, but it sort of always is. I had to hire a couple of corporate level people, that’s never fun.”

“What’d they do to deserve being fired?”

“They were sexually harassing a few interns, thinking they could get away with it.” He scoffs. “They thought wrong, let me tell you. I survey just about all of the security footage daily, and I saw the same two idiots bothering these young women who could be their daughters, and so I had HR get involved, and I fired them both without severance pay. Which means they’ll probably try to sue for wrongful termination, thinking it’s all hearsay, but they don’t know about the footage, so joke’s on them.”

“And the interns, how are they?”

“I think they’ll be alright. I spoke with all of them and apologized profusely. I told them that behavior like that didn’t trickle down from me, and that I take it all very seriously. They’re all continuing with their internships, which is good. I would have felt terrible if they couldn’t get credit for this.”

“Wow, I think you’re the first ethical CEO in corporate history.”

“There’s nothing ethical about capitalism.” He says lowly, shaking his head. Candy’s hand gripped his knee and she moaned.

“Don’t stop, I’m close.” She pops an eye open, and they both burst into a fit of giggles. “Handsome, kind, and self aware? Damn, you’re the whole package.”

“I’ve thought about you a lot over these last two weeks.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, and I made sure to book out some other appointments in advance.”

“I saw that.”

“Does it bother you that I book the longest blocks I can?”

“Nah, I get paid the same amount no matter how many appointments I have a week.” She chews on her bottom lip. “Last time, you mentioned that you wanted to show me how you do other things…”

“I want your honest feedback. Can we go lay on the bed for a bit?”

“Of course.” They both climb onto the bed and Harry pulls Candy to rest her head on his chest. “I like your cologne.” She mutters.

“Thank you.” He murmurs, his eyes fluttering closed. “Would it be weird if we took a quick catnap?”

“Not weird at all. I’ll set a timer for thirty minutes. Take your clothes off, we can get under the covers.”

When all is said and done, Harry turns Candy onto her side so he can spoon her. He wedges a leg between hers and sighs contently. A nap after a long day with a beautiful woman in his arms feels almost as good as when he had his tongue inside her pussy. Almost.

“Oh, God! You’re so good at this, fuck!” Candy moans out as Harry eats her from behind. She reaches behind herself to grip his hair and keep him close. “I’m almost there, don’t stop!” It’s not often Candy gets to have a genuine orgasm while being with her clients, so she’s taking full advantage. “Fuck!” She collapses to the bed after coming, and Harry trails kisses up her spine and along her shoulders. “You seriously have nothing to worry about. No notes.” She says as she catches her breath once Harry lets her roll onto her back.

“Good.” He smiles. “There’s something else I want to do today.” He tugs the front of her teddy down, exposing her breasts. He licks over one of her nipples, and Candy gasps. “Does this actually feel good?” He gives the sides of her breast to further pucker her nipple for him to flick his tongue over.

“Yes.” She threads her fingers into his hair as he takes more into his mouth, sucking roughly. A long moan escapes her. He travels to the other and does the same thing. “Can I please have your cock inside me?”

“No.” He sits up and pulls the teddy completely off her body, leaving her bare. “I want to eat you again.” He gets on his belly between her legs, wraps his arms around her thighs, and off he goes.

“You’re killing me.” She whines, throwing her forearm over her eyes. Harry slips two of his fingers inside of her, and she sighs with relief.

“Better?”

“Want your cock.” She sits up on her elbows. “Why won’t you give it to me?”

“Because I don’t have to.”

“You’re a sadist, you know that? You come off all timid and shy, but all of that hides a devious side to you.”

“A sadist wouldn’t let you come at all.” He kitten licks her clit before sucking it between his lips. “Is that how you want it to be?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I just need…more.” He slips a third finger inside of her. “More.”

“I don’t think your little pussy could handle it.” He lets her legs go and crawls up her body, slotting his mouth over hers. His fingers are still inside her. He starts pumping them shallowly and lets the heel of palm beat into her clit. “God, listen to you. So fucking wet for me. Do you get this wet for your other clients?”

“No, never!” She whimpers. “I usually need to use lube.”

“Poor thing.” He pouts down at her. “Can feel you squeezing around me, are you getting close?”

“Yes.”

“Are you gonna come? Gonna come for me, sweet girl?”

“Oh, fuck!” Her hips move upward and then she’s coming. She twitches around his wrist a few times before he pulls his fingers out. He sucks them into his mouth and moans.

“Do you call yourself Candy because you know you taste like it?”

“Stop.” She chuckles. “Pussy does not taste sweet.”

“Yours does.” He presses a kiss to her forehead, then looks down at the painful bulge in his briefs. “Would you mind, uh, sucking me off?” A blush creeps over his cheeks.

Candy smiles and grabs a pillow to kneel on before getting off the bed. She spreads Harry’s legs and pulls his briefs down. He leans back on his hands and lets her get to work how she wants. His head rolls back the first time she swallows around him. He’s in absolute heaven, and from the sounds of her moans, it’s safe to say she is too.

Every meeting started the same. Candy would take Harry’s suit jacket and loosen his tie. Then, they’d sit on the couch, and slowly move to the bed as they talked. Sometimes Harry wanted a quick nap, and other times he was ready to start right away. He still hadn’t properly fucked her, but he’s fucked her with several dildos and vibrators. He wanted to work on those skills just the same. He even fucked a plug in and out of her ass.

They’d been going at it for at least two months at this point. He still didn’t know her real name, but he knew a ton of other things. He enjoyed talking with her, probably more than he should. Because when Harry goes out on a few different blind dates, he finds himself comparing every woman to Candy. The hollow look in their eyes while they smiled and nodded did nothing for him.

On this particular evening, Harry showed up with a bouquet of flowers for his girl.

“Harry, this was so thoughtful, thank you.”

“Can we talk for a minute?” He takes her hand, and they go to the couch. “I’ve tried going out with other women, and none of them are you. I know I don’t even know your real name, but…”

“Harry, I know where you’re going with this, and the answer is no. I’ve never accepted any sugar baby offers for a reason. At some point, you’ll get bored, kick me out, and then I’ll be shit out of luck. I don’t want a man directly paying my way. It would make me feel powerless and trapped.”

“That’s not what I was going to ask you, like, at all.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I wanted to know if I could take you out on a real date sometime, when you’re not on the clock as Candy.”

“I can’t do that either, Harry.” She puts her hand on his knee, giving it a squeeze. “I keep these worlds separate. Men can’t handle that I fuck other men, they always ask me to quit, and-“

“I would never ask you to do something like that. If you ever end up leaving this place, it should be because you want to.”

“Jennifer is my best friend.”

“She and I broke up ages ago. Pretend like she’s not a factor in this. Would you go out on a date with me?”

“I…” she bites into her bottom lip.

“If no really is your answer, I’ll respect it, and we can keep things as they are, but…I have to be honest with you…every time I’m around you, I get this feeling. And it’s only with you. I wanna know if you feel it too.”

“I feel very strongly for you, more so than I have for any other client.”

“I’m so taken with you, sweetheart.” He cups her cheek and runs the pad of his thumb along her skin. “I think about you all the time, from the second I wake up in the morning. Just the thought of you has me tossing and turning and has my eyes rolling back. You have this affect on me, and you fascinate me, and I want to know everything about you. You’re so sweet, you’ve completely stolen my appetite.”

“Fuck, Harry.” She moves to straddle his lap, and she wraps her arms around him. “I’m so wet right now.” She says lowly into his ear.

“Don’t.” He grips her chin. “Don’t try to distract me.”

“I was just being honest the same way you just were. You…you’d really be okay with me continuing to work here if we started up?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “You don’t get this turned on by any of your other clients, do you?”

“Nope, only by you.”

“Then I think I could learn to compartmentalize things. This is work, not play.”

“Exactly.”

“Would I still be able to come see you here?”

“Yes, but don’t go taking up all my open slots. That kind of possessiveness doesn’t turn me on.”

“Noted.” He smiles softly. “So, I was thinking, for our first date, I could bring you home with me some night, and I could cook for you.”

“You cook?”

“It relaxes me. I can make whatever you like.”

“I can’t remember the last time someone cooked for me. That sounds nice.” She bites into her bottom up. “Say things go well, and we start dating regularly…what will you tell me people about me?”

“Whatever you’d want me to tell them. I can be as open or as private as you like. I’ll admit, I was embarrassed the first time I came here, but I’m finding that these types of places are way more common than I thought.”

“You could say we met at work. Not a total lie. When I’ve dated in the past, I usually tell the guy to tell others that I’m a masseuse.”

“Are you comfortable with that?”

“Yeah. It feels like the most accurate thing to say. I provide pleasure and relaxation.”

“You sure do.” He smirks. She rolls her eyes playfully at him. “Are you free tomorrow night for a date?”

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Great.” He trails kisses along her jaw line and nips at her earlobe. “Bring an overnight bag. I’m gonna give my cock tomorrow night, and if I do my job right, you won’t be able to walk afterwards.”

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x oc #hs fic #candy fic

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robotsandramblings · 12 days ago

Text

The Journey of Clone Force 99 (and Friends)

a fun little research project i've been working on -- mapping out the locations visited by [members of] Clone Force 99, as seen on-screen in their Clone Wars Season 7 arc and The Bad Batch show itself. i really wanted to see where these locations were in relation to each other in the big, wide, Star Wars galaxy.

click on the map images to enlarge them in new tabs/windows; hopefully you can read the planet names better that way!

the full list of locations -- known, and unknown (ie. not on the map) -- are listed below, along with my resources and other notes. enjoy! 😊🗺️📌

~~~~~~~~~

Note #1: Any planet names on the map that I had to add/type in myself are locations that I had to approximate, based on their Wookiepedia entries. They're not 100% accurate but I feel they're pretty darn close!

Note #2: This is NOT the complete map of all locations visited -- there were about 10 places that had planet or moon names in Wookiepedia, but no information on their location within the galaxy, not even a sector name.

Note #3: the pink-purple "misc" locations are ones that were either A) visited by non-CF99 characters, and/or B) mentioned or shown on-screen but no one really 'went' to the planet. They're all mentioned in the big list at the end of these notes.

Resources:

primary map (the one in the images above); from Wookiepedia. I desaturated the colours for better visuals and trimmed the edges a little.

used the links here to access the sector maps for the Outer and Mid Rims. it's an older but legitimate Star Wars source, from a book published in 2009, but I believe it has remained accurate and carried over into the Disney Canon. I used this a lot for the locations that weren't on the primary map -- Wookiepedia gave me the planet's sector name, and I was able to find the sector using these maps.

this map is fan-made and can be zoomed into very closely to see a lot more locations. There are also faint outlines for the sectors. I don't think this map itself is 100% accurate either, but it was still very helpful in confirming some locations I was approximating.

Fun things I noticed:

with it's "cameo" / intro appearance at the very end of Season 1, Wayland/Tantiss is the only location that we see in all three TBB seasons.

(unless there was a Coruscant scene i'm forgetting from S1??? that would be the other most likely candidate. but I think we only visit Coruscant in S2 and S3.)

(Ord Mantell came kinda close, with an indirect reference in S3, re: the imperials finding and questioning Cid.)

~~~~~~~~~

The VERY LONG list of locations, by approximate chronological appearance in TCW and TBB:

The Clone Wars Season 7 -- Bad Batch arc

Anaxes

Skako Minor

The Bad Batch, Season 1

Kaller

Kamino

Onderon

Saleucami

Ordo moon (location on map UNKNOWN)

Idaflor ("misc") -- at the beginning of Ep 4, Hunter says he wants to hide out on uninhabited Idaflor for awhile. Tech says they need supplies and they end up going to...

Pantora

Ord Mantell

Corellia (where they retrieve the tactical droid head)

Bracca

Bora Vio (Kaminoan cloning facility; location on map UNKNOWN, although I'd guess it's relatively close to Kamino)

Raxus

Ryloth

Daro (where they rescued Gregor)

(cameo appearance by Wayland, aka location of Mount Tantiss / Tantiss Base)

Season 2

Serenno

Desix (Crosshair only; with Cody et al.)

Serolonis (Safa Toma riot racing; location on map UNKNOWN)

Skara Nul

Vanguard Axis station/base (location on map UNKNOWN)

Kashyyyk

Coruscant

Ipsidon (ipsium mine; Mokko & kids)

Silla (crashed science vessel & escaped Zillo Beast; location on map UNKNOWN)

Barton IV (outpost w/Mayday)

Tantiss (Crosshair only)

Pabu

Balmorra ("misc") -- where we see an imprisoned Howzer being transferred; he's rescued by Echo & co. in Balmorra's orbit

Eriadu

Ord Mantell

Season 3

Tantiss

Devaron (home of the Isa Durand's council, per Wookiepedia)

Setron (abandoned Hemlock base with the slither vines; where Hunter & Wrecker find the younger clones Mox, Deke, and stak; location on map UNKNOWN)

Lau (where Crosshair & Omega crash their stolen shuttle; location on map UNKNOWN)

nameless Ryloth moon (where everyone reunites)

Pabu

Barton IV

Pantora ("misc") (Rex, Howzer, and co. only; where Riyo Chuchi meets Raxus's Sentor Singh in secret)

Teth

Veelo (where Fennec Shand, Hunter, and Wrecker track down Sylar Saris; location on map UNKNOWN)

random asteroid where Phee gases up her ship & CX-2 sneaks aboard (location completely unknown)

Erebus (labour camp where Rampart is being held; location on map UNKNOWN)

Bora Vio (Kaminoan cloning facility where they meet Echo and his stolen imperial shuttle; location on map UNKNOWN, although I'd guess it's relatively close to Kamino)

Coruscant imperial orbital station (where they latch onto Tantiss shuttle)

Pabu

BONUS -- Star Wars: Hyperspace Stories #10, which featured Clone Force 99 (pre-Order66)

Hylanth moon (location on map UNKNOWN)

~~~~~

if I've missed anything, or something seems incorrect, please let me know!! again, it's not 100% accurate or complete, but I've tried my best :)

#the bad batch #the clone wars #star wars #planets #galaxy map #wookiepedia #locations #analyzingsw #R&Rpic

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littlemisspascal · 2 months ago

Text

Creature Comfort

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Female Reader/OFC

Word Count: 7.6k

Summary:

Waiting out there is General Marcus Acacius. A real man of flesh and blood, strength and power. The legendary Atlas Lion himself.

Your husband-to-be.

Rating: M / 18+ only

Warnings: Language, at least a million historical inaccuracies, referenced smut, references of blood + war + death, weapons, too many lion/animal references and metaphors to count, reader has self-esteem issues, arranged marriage, domestic life, cameo of reader's parents, switching povs,

- Reader has no name and no physical traits described in detail. Reader wears clothes such as a toga + wedding outfit

Author Note: This started as me simply wanting to write a fic where Acacius is compared to a lion and Reader's his wife and then it quickly led to me having a complete emotional breakdown that caused me to quit writing entirely for several months. Not one of my finest moments, but 🤷‍♀️ that's life I guess. It's nice to finally toss this fic out here, hopefully someone somewhere enjoys it 🧡

Special thanks to @wheresarizona for putting up with my emotional highs and lows and answering some questions about Rome for me and for just being an overall too-nice-for-this-world person I'm lucky to have met on here 💗

The morning of your wedding you can barely stomach your breakfast. Nerves are natural, your mother assures you, watching with a critical eye as the female servants of the house help dress you.

Your impending ceremony has severed your protection of your family’s household gods, leaving you spiritually defenseless until you’re officially wed to your husband. Maybe that is the true source of your worries, dark spirits playing wicked games with your heartstrings. Or maybe it’s your mother’s looming presence coupled with her stubborn determination to see you safely married off, analyzing every inch of your bridal outfit to root out the tiniest of imperfections, that has your stomach tied up in knots.

The wreath atop your head is thick with summer blooms, their scent potent and almost sickly sweet, tickling the inside of your nose. You’d sneeze if not for the veil covering your face, attached to a headband beneath the tangled greenery, its deep yellow color identical to the slippers donning your feet.

You’d personally woven your tunic on your family’s loom, a task expected of every new bride, intertwining every fiber into tangible proof to show your husband you were ready for the responsibilities of managing his household. Linen had been your initial choice, but your mother insisted wool was the better material to repel the forces of evil. The garment is heavy beneath your matching white stola, but rather than irritating there’s something oddly comforting about the weight. Almost like a warm embrace.

It’s tradition for weddings to take place in the home of the bride’s father. You can hear the arrival of guests now outside your room. Friends and relatives and other miscellaneous people here to witness and celebrate the union. Every minute brings you closer to a new stage of your life, and if not for the servants’ steadying hands, your weak knees might send you crashing to the floor. Fainting would surely be interpreted as a bad omen, derailing the whole ceremony before it even truly began.

You suck in a quiet breath, shoving down the worst of your anxieties. This day–your wedding–has been on your mind practically your whole life. You’d learned from a young age the importance of marriages arranged between families for political and financial purposes. You’d also learned you wouldn’t be the one choosing your future husband, that decision would be made by your father alone.

Of course, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t imagine marrying someone who was your own choice. Someone kind and handsome and as loyal as your household’s guard dogs. Someone who loved you above all others.

But waiting for you out there isn’t the imaginary stranger who's starred in your most intimate dreams. Waiting out there is General Marcus Acacius. A real man of flesh and blood, strength and power. The legendary Atlas Lion himself.

Your husband-to-be.

When the pronuba arrives to accompany you to the ceremony, the servants disperse but your mother lingers a beat longer, running her fingers over your shoulders to smoothen out non-existent creases. Neither of you mention the shiny gleam of her eyes or the trembling of your hands.

Then, with a firm nod of her head, your mother declares, “She’s ready,” and leaves without another look to join your father’s side.

Your mother is not prone to lying. If she says you’re ready, then ready you must be.

You take another deep breath before linking your arm through the elder matron’s, but it’s the gentle patting of her hand on yours which calms you most. A reassurance of good things to come.

Stepping out into the atrium, you’re met with a packed crowd, locals and soldiers mixed as one, craning their necks for a glimpse of you. Their clothes resemble yours and the groom’s, another tactic to confuse evil spirits, but human eyes only need to spot your yellow veil to recognize you as the bride. And as for Acacius…

Well. To mistake the Atlas Lion for another would be as foolish as mistaking fire for water. He is unique in all the world.

You see him standing at the altar with the high priest, clad in a purple toga embroidered with a lion’s head in golden thread. A reward in honor of the general’s triumphs in warfare. The placement of the lion above his heart is deliberate, you suspect. A warning of what lies beneath the surface. A guarantee all the tales of his savagery and blood lust passed from mouth to mouth from the battlefields to the city streets are true.

Is it terrible that a part of you–an inane, minuscule scrap of a thing you’ll never verbally acknowledge, not even under oath–is fervently captivated by the notion? You should be listening to the high priest’s prayers to Juno, paying attention to the omens he reads in the entrails of the sacrificed ram upon the altar. But Acacius’ brown eyes, burning with the radiant June sunshine and something else distinctly dangerous, put a flame to your focus and narrow your vision to one central, all-encompassing point.

Is it terrible that you can meet a lion’s stare without a modicum of fear? You wonder how many have been able to say the same, if anyone else at all.

The priest deems the relationship blessed by the gods, carrying on with the proceedings, oblivious to your state of mind. He asks Acacius to make certain his intentions, if you are an acceptable wife.

Acacius draws himself up to full height, an immovable mountain firm in his convictions. “She is mine to me,” the timbre of his gravelly voice drags over you, eliciting a shudder down your spine you pray the elder matron does not notice. “I will want no other.”

Then it is your turn, and your voice is only a little hoarse when you confirm, “He will be my husband. My only choice.”

The slightest quirk of a smile curls the corner of Acacius’ lips. Instinctively, you return it with a small grin of your own. And even though he can’t physically see your face behind the veil, you think, somehow, he does see you.

It’s only after signing the marriage contract with crimson seals that the pronuba places your right hand in Acacius’, officially uniting you as one. The general’s palm is callused, fingers thick and gnarled from past wounds, but you can’t find it in yourself to hate them, or recoil, or do anything else than keep holding on.

“Raise the veil,” the priest says.

You swallow, the fingers of your left hand spasming against your side, then slowly reach for a fistful of the yellow fabric. Pulling it up over your head, you carefully watch the lines of Acacius’ expression, heartbeat fluttering at the way those brown eyes widen, taking you in for the first time. Absorbing everything like it might be his only chance. Like you’re something wondrous worth memorizing.

Acacius starts leaning forward, sending every last thought in your head scattering with his nearness. He’s massive, radiating such intense warmth, thumb stroking a line of heat along your wrist. There’s a fire igniting in your chest, lungs choking on the smoke, yet you’re trembling when he cups your face, the quietest of whines escaping your parted lips.

Please, you start to beg, the whooshing of blood thundering in your eardrums, plea–

Acacius swallows the silent plea with his own mouth, kissing you like a starving man. This isn’t love–no, it’s too soon for such sentiment–this is carnal passion, roaming tongues and clashing teeth like you’re no better than animals committed to the hunt of this new territory, this new taste.

The eruption of applause yanks you back to reality. You tear yourself away with a choked gasp, and it’s satisfying seeing the heave of Acacius’ broad chest with each ragged inhale as you both struggle to catch your breaths. You did that. You’re the reason for the flare of lust in his eyes and smear of spit across his bottom lip.

You’ve heard people say no man’s looks can compete with Adonis’ striking beauty. A fallacy, you realize in that moment upon seeing General Marcus Acacius in purple and gold, dark curls caressed by the gentle breeze, a constellation of freckles along the tendons of his neck, hardened by violence yet holding your hand so heartachingly sweet.

The rest of the world can have Adonis.

And as for you–boldly and selfishly, you’ll keep this man. The legendary Atlas Lion himself.

Your husband.

The wedding feast afterwards is a blur of lavish food and wine, the jovial notes of flutes accompanying fescennine songs with interjections of salutations shouted from inebriated lips. Every touch of Acacius’ hand against your arm, your waist, everywhere sends sparks skittering along your nerves. It’s as bewildering as it is thrilling, like you’re balancing on the edge of a precipice, and you wonder if this is what Icarus felt moments before he flew too close to the sun. Falling, falling, falling…

You can only hope you meet a different, kinder fate.

When the sky begins to change and darken with the promise of encroaching evening time, you find yourself standing in the middle of your childhood home, trying to etch into memory everything from the slope of the roof to the tiny cracks in the stone floor. All the noises and voices seem to fade away, granting you this moment to yourself.

Once you step outside, there will be no familiarity to cling to. You’ll be escorted by the crowd of guests to Acacius’ secondary home—smaller, but no less grand than his main domus in Cosa. A port city to the south you’ll have to learn to navigate from square one—and then, once alone with the general, taken to his bed. His body will be another, far more intricate labyrinth you’ll need to learn and recognize the details of.

A new city, a new spouse, a new chapter of life with new expectations…

It’s overwhelming to say the least.

Your eyes cut to Acacius across the room, widening when you catch him already watching you. Something in your chest aches upon realizing you don’t know him well enough to read his face. If he’s angry, pleased, or just totally indifferent. But you can’t look away. Caught and cornered.

Like prey, you think, loathing the thought as soon as it forms. A lion cannot have a mouse for a wife. Imagine the shame of being an unworthy partner of one of Rome’s highest-ranking generals. Your name dragged through the mud, an embarrassment to your family and a blight on Acacius’ esteemed reputation—to say nothing of how the gods would react to your ruining of a blessed union. You’d be as insignificant as the fleas on a dog’s pelt in their eyes.

You must be stronger. Braver. Better.

Where Icarus fell, you must fly.

Maybe Acacius senses this change stirring within you, or maybe he grows impatient with this lengthy staring contest, either way he suddenly draws closer, weaving between bodies until he comes to a stop in front of you. Purposefully within grabbing reach. The ache in your chest lessens at that, replaced by a spike of adrenaline as awareness dawns.

“Is it time to leave?” you ask.

“It is,” he answers. Then, quick as lightning and just as unexpected, he pinches your waist.

You jerk away at the teasing touch, gaping like a fish. “Do you touch all women in that manner?”

“No.” A smug smirk spreads across his handsome face. Relishing his next words. “Only the woman who belongs to me.”

Possessive brute. Your eyes narrow even as heat envelops your body, toes curling in your shoes.

“You haven’t taken me yet. My body has no claim.”

Acacius’ jaw clenches at that. Like he’s holding onto his restraint by a mere thread. It’s practically tangible, a siren song tempting you to flex your claws.

“Answer me this, general, because it remains unclear to me.” Tilting your head, exposing the column of your neck for his hungry gaze to feast upon, your tone is deliberately provoking. “Are you a passionate man of action? Or merely a man of empty words?”

“Bite your tongue,” his tone is low, closer to a snarl than actual speech. You almost believe he’s angry, if not for the glint in his brown eyes, aroused and impressed by your antics in equal measure.

“I’d rather you bite it.”

The fragile thread snaps.

Acacius is on you at once, his large hands seizing hold of your arms. You wrestle against his grip, delivering a solid kick to his shin that draws an irritated hiss. He puts up with your struggling for a bit longer, unaffected by your inexpert blows to his torso, then ends it with a harsh tug, pulling you flush against his brick wall of a body. He sticks his face in your neck, breath hot and ticklish, mouthing at your thrumming pulse with blunt teeth. Oh gods. You slump against him, letting his thick muscles take the brunt of your weight, mind sinking like a stone in the overflowing well of new and overwhelming sensations. Desperate for more, more, more.

The deep rumbling of his chuckling vibrates through your bones, and you have the deliriously greedy thought of cutting out a piece of yourself to store the sound there.

“You’ve caused quite a scene,” he murmurs into the underside of your jaw, sounding just as wrecked as you feel. But beneath the raspiness, you detect the unmistakable lilt of amusement.

“It’s tradition,” you breathe, conscious of the numerous stares watching your every move, including your mother’s. Your pretending of resistance must have been satisfactory enough for her to not intervene.

Acacius leans back just enough to look at you, cradling you in the cage of his arms and chest. You place your hands upon his waist, absently clutching the purple-dyed wool between your fingers.

“Tell me how to call you.” It’s not a request.

“What?” Yet another tradition to appease household gods is meant to happen later after you had arrived at the threshold of Acacius’ home and smeared the doorway in oil and fat. He would ask you your name, to which you answer, taking your husband’s and modifying it: where you are Marcus, I am Marcia. And at last, excluding the event of a bad omen occurring, he would carry you inside. Your brow furrows, not understanding why he’s changing the order of things. “Shouldn’t we—”

“Not the name tradition wants, nor the one your parents and the gods assigned you,” he interrupts. “Tell me how I will call you when we’re alone.”

Oh.

You bow your head to hide your smile, pleased to have a choice. Your eyes fall upon the golden lion head.

Oh.

“Where and when you are Leo,” you tell him, trailing a finger along the perfectly stitched mane before tapping the spot where his heart resides. “There and then I am Leaena.”

{His bride is too innocent, too unaware of the ruthless nature of the Empire’s politics to endure what is expected of her as a general’s wife. This marriage should never have been blessed by the gods.

Still, Acacius can’t stop his gaze from following her every movement, intrigued to know the thoughts running through her head. Can’t stop himself from touching her either, drawn to her warmth, the rightness of her body in his hold. The ceremony was mere hours ago, yet seeing her in his bed, flesh bare and soft and trembling beneath him, the woman has already become the most important treasure of his life. His to worship and protect for the rest of his days.

“Gods, you really are massive all over,” she blurts out, seemingly without thinking, feeling the press of his hard cock against her. Then immediately averts her eyes with a nervous giggle, insecure of her own inexperience. “Could–could we take it slow?”

“That’s fine, my leaena,” he assures her, kissing the corner of her mouth, addicted to her taste dangerously fast. She won’t last, he thinks, scraping his teeth along her neck. They’ll swallow her whole. “I’ll make you feel good. I’ll take care of you.” And he sees it, the exact moment the apprehension slips aside and trust rises to take its place in those big, expressive eyes. She wants this—wants him.

It’s an impulsive, raw need that has him leaning down to kiss her, licking deep into her mouth, craving something he doesn’t know the name of. Repentance, maybe, for the hell coming her way in the coming months. Or maybe he’s just a selfish man who wants this, wants her, more than he deserves.

She rips him out of his thoughts by grabbing fistfulls of his curls, tugging until they’re even closer pressed together, opening up for him impossibly wider.

Maybe he’s wrong in his initial assumptions of his bride.

Maybe she’ll be the one to take care of him.}

Cosa matters a great deal to the Empire. A strategically defendable port with close connections to sources of timber and other supplies necessary for maintaining a vast army of fleets. The city itself was built upon a hill, high enough that on a clear day one could see miles of the Tyrrhenian Sea’s coastline. The crashes of the blue-green waves against the limestone cliffs.

Accompanying Acacius into the forum provides you with opportunities to observe the city’s layout. Enclosed within an imposing circuit of walls, the community has put careful thought into every corner of limited space, separating private houses from the sacred temples and civic buildings. Necessary architecture only, no spare room for the entertainment of a theatre.

Cosa is significantly smaller than the size of your birthplace, drenched in the scents of sea salt and fish, yet there are elements of opulence if one looks close enough. Pearl necklaces adorning necks and solid gold bracelets fastened around wrists. Chairs carved from precious woods, embellished with touches of silver or bronze. Acacius’ curule seat in his tablinum is made out of pure ivory, its legs resembling a lion’s paws. A gift from the Senate after a successful military campaign.

The majority of Acacius’ hours in the public square is split between the basilica, the curia, and the comitium speaking with the aediles and magistrates. Offices of elected officials which exclude women from entry–not that you have much interest in politics anyways.

The marketplace quickly becomes your favorite place outside of your domus. A variety of stalls clustered together bustling with activity. Haggling becomes second nature to you, and when you can’t get the price you want you make trades with your weavings.

Still. Cosa is a small enough city where you’re easily recognized as someone new by the locals. More than once you’ve experienced lingering glances, examining everything from your clothes to your hair. More than once those eyes have made your shoulder blades curl with the instinct to somehow fold into yourself like the little crabs that occasionally wash up on the sandy coastline.

A week after settling in, a man in the bathhouse grabs at your palla before you can enter the women’s section, pulling harsh enough to send your mother’s brooch clattering to the ground. You press a hand over your pounding heart, scrambling backwards a few steps, all too aware of the heavy veil of silence that has fallen over the room.

Acacius calmly appears at your side, soundless in his approach, filling the whole place with his commanding presence.

A blink. That’s all it takes.

One blink and suddenly the man’s blood spatters the stucco wall as Acacius slams his skull against it repeatedly until he no longer resembles anything human. Just a gruesome muddle of scarlet and bone, life thread severed by the jaws of death.

Acacius releases his hold, then points a bloodstained finger at you. “She is mine. Anyone who touches her will face my retribution. And I won’t hesitate to add another soul to Dis Pater’s realm.”

Living under the roof of your parents, you’d thought of home as a physical structure. A place to stay in a world full of constantly moving parts.

Marriage has taught you home is so much more. It’s the soft notes you hum as you spin and weave wool. A kiss pressed to your temple as Acacius moves past. The scent of fresh citrus each morning for breakfast and the sweet taste of fine wines. Plans to visit the coast. A bowl of seashells. Gazing up at constellations when the moon is high. Feelings bubbling up, spilling out, casting shadows on the walls and slipping beneath the bed sheets. It’s the warmth of another body, touching, feeling, familiarizing, until two halves become an inseverable one whole.

Home is learning to be loved and to be in love.

Acacius doesn’t receive many guests in his tablinum, preferring to settle his business affairs in the public offices, yet he still keeps a cushioned stool in front of his desk. You sit there, elbow propped on his desk and chin resting upon your fist, watching your husband search through his shelf of scrolls. The mosaic floors have been recently cleaned, colors popping vividly in the patches of sunlight sneaking in, and the painted scenes of nature adorning the walls are masterfully done, but you can’t bring yourself to look anywhere else except him.

“Where did your name come from?” you ask, breaking up the quiet.

Acacius pauses, glancing back with a raised eyebrow. “It was my father’s name. And his father’s name. And his father’s father’s name and–”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Your scolding is softened by the smile pulling at the corner of your mouth. Acacius keeps looking at you, smirking like he finds the whole thing amusing. “The Atlas Lion. A moniker as frightful as that, it must have an origin.”

He chuckles that deep, rumbling laugh of his. “Wondered when you’d finally ask.”

His tone is light, still smirking, but you see through the cracks of the facade. See the hesitation in the lowering of his eyes to the floor, see the slight furrow in his brow that only appears when he’s worried he’s upset you. He’s nervous—it’s so obvious and so dearly human that it aches. It looks absolutely wrong on the face of a man known throughout the Empire for his larger-than-life confidence.

You watch him warily, unsure what to do, what to say beyond his name. “Acacius.”

Your husband faces the scrolls again, and for a moment you’re afraid the fragile moment’s broken, but then he tells you the story behind his name. ‘Story’ is too soft a word though. Stories are for parties and entertainment, full of humor and unfolding drama and moral lessons. Acacius doesn’t tell you a story. No, he tells you his truth.

Acacius doesn’t mince words, describing the hellish months of military training in grueling detail. He tells you, in an almost detached manner, how he’d been a different man back then. Scrawnier, unused to bloodshed, restless, but above all else, near feral with the need to prove his own worth.

“It was General Meridius’ idea for soldiers to train as bestiarii.” There’s something about the way he says the name—full of respect. Admiration for a superior. But you think you detect a note of something else laced within the syllables too. Something almost…sad sounding. Grieving, perhaps. It’s gone in the next breath. “Face to face with wild beasts, you either become an expert with your weapon fast or you die an unglorified death in the arena.”

For all the nights you’ve traced meaningless patterns along the large scars gouged into Acacius’ shoulders, you didn’t ask about them. Assumed they were the result of a too-close enemy with a too-sharp weapon. A blade or spear, something man-made. Never occurred to you to think of fangs and claws as weapons too.

Blinking sharply, you sit up straighter, stuttering, “W-wait, are you…is that where…” There’s a swarm of questions buzzing in your head, stinging the back of your throat when you try to voice them. Finally, you manage to choke out, “So, that’s how you got your name? You actually fought lions?”

Acacius finally turns around at that, only to surprise you by shaking his head. “I did fight lions—and bears, boars, even a pair of hyenas once. But that’s not why they call me the Atlas Lion.”

He trails off, tension in the wrinkled lines of his expression your hands itch to smoothen out. You hesitate to rise from your seat, unable to tell if drawing closer would lighten your husband’s mood or worsen it. Moments like this–where he’s loosened the reins of his tightly controlled emotions, offering a glimpse of an ordinary, flesh and blood mortal man who’s been chewed up and spit out a dozen times over– are few and far between. Delicate like fine glass, requiring just the right handling.

“To prove I was ready for the army, I had to pass a test,” he explains. “I fought everything that attacked me. I stopped thinking, stopped feeling. Nothing mattered except the next stab of my gladius. And when they started throwing men into the arena, I didn’t even notice.” Acacius exhales a ragged breath. “I stopped seeing people as people.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, voice barely above a murmur.

There’s another pause, time seeming to slow down, seconds stretching lazily like a plump housecat, and then Acacius crosses the distance, close enough your knees graze each other, head tilted back to peer up at him. He says nothing, even as his thumb brushes over your chapped lips.

“Acacius.” Your body trembles, edges of your vision starting to blur. You lean into his touch. The center of your universe.

“I mean,” Acacius says, eyes on your mouth. Your lips part unthinkingly, letting his thumb slip inside, pressing lightly against your bottom teeth. “We’re all just animals, my leaena. Red tongues and hands.”

The air is cool this time of night, seems to press against your skin like a damp washcloth. Cleansing you from the inside out with each deep inhale.

Acacius stands in the courtyard, bronze skin painted in streaks of moonbeams and starlight, hair tousled by fitful hands. His absence from bed had stirred you awake, and a part of you wonders if these midnight musings are a regular occurrence you’ve only just now become aware of. Not all dreams are sweet after all, especially for soldiers.

“A nightmare?” you ask, a hushed inquiry disrupting the still of night.

“A memory,” is all he offers.

“Oh.”

He hasn’t looked at you yet, brown eyes boring holes into the distant moon. Maybe you should return to bed, give him space and privacy to sort himself out. But your bare feet stick to the floor and you can’t pull your eyes away. Noting the rhythmic clenching and unclenching of his hands, the rising and falling of his chest with each breath.

You try to ignore the disappointment gnawing at your heart, hurt that Acacius won’t share his internal burden with you, even in the cover of darkness where it’s just you and him.

He’s revealed the truth of his name with you. Encouraged you to lick and bite and mark every inch of his flesh as your own. But tonight he’s put up a wall you can’t climb over.

Maybe that’s why you stay. You’re a glutton for punishment.

Somewhere else in the city, a dog begins to bark. It’s a harsh sound, all teeth, defending its territory from a threat, and you flinch despite the distance. Unsurprisingly, Acacius doesn’t so much as even twitch.

What is surprising though, is that he chooses then to finally speak.

“There are victories yet still to come,” he mutters, a tremor to his voice you’ve never heard before, like he’s standing on unsteady ground. And there’s this look in his eyes that unsettles you, haunted by something only he can see. “That’s what they always say.”

They?

Stepping closer, you gently bump your hand against his. A knot unravels in your chest when he blinks back to himself, pinky hooking onto yours. A tether securing him home with you.

“Who says that?”

“The Emperors.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Don’t know what words will build his wall higher or what ones will knock it down–if that’s even possible.

“What are they like?” Your mouth makes the choice for you. “Geta and Caracalla?”

You’ve never been to Rome, never seen the ruling brothers in person. All you really know about them are the stories and rumors from the mouths of travelers gossiping in the marketplace. Sometimes nice things are said, sometimes…not so nice things.

“They’re…” Dark brows draw together, mouth pulling downward in a frown. Acacius finally looks at you, the brown of his eyes lost in the dark, but not the sharp glint of fear. Tumultuous and excruciating, you feel it cut deep. “They’re fire and water. Two opposing forces unfit to inhabit the same space. It’s only a matter of time before one prevails over the other.”

You swallow, nervousness swelling in the pit of your stomach at the flat, doomed sound of certainty he speaks with. “And then what happens?”

“The Empire will either burn or drown."

“And us?” you ask tentatively. “What will happen to us?”

Acacius doesn’t have an answer.

A Roman naval ship is spotted just as dawn breaks, drawing a sizable crowd by the time it docks in the harbor. There’s a sense of wrongness associated with the lack of an official fleet, and that unsettling feeling is multiplied tenfold when it’s announced there are numerous injured soldiers aboard.

Acacius attends to them, ensuring each gets medical attention while also gathering information from the head officer in charge. You stand at the back of the crowd, heart in your throat, seeing but not truly processing. Blood, so much red. Expressions of young men scrunched in pain. The grim, motionless bodies of those who didn’t last the final hours of the journey.

“Steel yourself.” A feminine voice warns, and you turn with a blink of surprise upon seeing the high priestess at your side, unused to encountering her outside her temple walls. The sea breeze ruffles the red and white ribbons in her braided hair as she holds your gaze, calm in an almost preternatural way compared to the surrounding commotion. “You are a general’s wife. To express your fear in public is to express doubt of the Empire’s dominance and your husband’s own prowess.”

Her words sink like a stone in your stomach. “I’ll be better,” you promise, the acidic taste of shame burning the back of your throat.

“Stronger,” she corrects, fierce blue eyes rivaling an ocean storm. “You must be stronger than your greatest fear.”

You can only nod, imagining one of the corpses wearing your husband’s face.

{With every inch of territory the Empire gains, its list of bitter enemies grows exponentially longer. Not every threat rising up in defiance stems from foreign soil though, Acacius was forced to learn that the hard way. He’s seen the effects Rome’s constant warfare and rotting politics have had on its subjects, witnessed people turn against their masters’ hands like rabid dogs hell-bent on stripping flesh from bone.

Rebels are dealt with just like rabid dogs, too. Caught and decapitated in a public spectacle. Crimson rivulets flow from their remains, discoloring the city’s streets reminiscent of a spilled wine stain, seeping into the very foundation itself.

Then come the speeches in the comitium from Cosa’s magistrates. Addressing the huddled masses with sickly sweet, empty promises of better times to come. Lying through their teeth, scared the next outburst of internal strife will end with their own severed heads tossed into the sea.

Acacius’ attendance is mandatory, yet he only pretends to listen while standing on the stone steps behind the speakers. His wife’s shoulder presses against his, their hands firmly locked together, unbothered by the harsh ridges of his battle-hardened palm grazing against her smooth skin. A simple comfort he’d long believed himself unworthy of ever indulging in.

“It tears you up inside, doesn’t it?” His wife’s voice is just a faint murmur, so quiet there isn’t a chance anyone else hears her, but the knowing note in it has his chest tightening with a stiff exhale. “Like a thorn in your soul. Even from Rome, Geta and Caracalla control your tongue.”

“There is a time for a general to speak his mind and there is a time for him to keep his head,” he reminds her frankly, careful to maintain his facade of blank detachment. “It’d do you good to remember your place.”

Her sharp inhale is torturous to his ears. She reacts to his blunt discipline like a physical blow, shoulders sagging, lips pressed together in a thin line, practically rolling over and exposing her vulnerable underbelly. Acacius hates that look. Hates even more he’s the cause of it. He thinks impaling himself with his own blade would hurt less.

Nudging her shoulder drags her gaze reluctantly back to him. And this is not the appropriate setting for levity, Acacius should bite back the smile curling at the corners of his mouth—but for his wife, his divine leaena, he’s a sinner on his knees desperate to be in the warmth of her good graces again. “You are fond of this general’s face, yes?”

It’s not the offering this goddess deserves, but it’s enough to begin mending what he’d torn, soothing the worst of the sting. She smiles, an amused, uneven little twist of her mouth she once confessed being insecure about before he kissed away all worries from her mind. There’s something undeniably perfect about it, like the first rays of sunlight after a bleak winter.

“Of course I am. But…” She bites her lip, caught on something. He squeezes her hand, and it seems to be the needed boost to force the words out from the cage in her throat. “Even the Atlas Lion must want to roar sometimes.”

Acacius should be annoyed with her ability to read him–it’s a weakness, and any weakness in his personal experience is a promise of death’s swift arrival. It isn’t safe, for either of them. But she’s done the unthinkable, worming her way into his ugly, greedy heart, treating it like something tender, something lovable. And it was too damn easy how quickly she filled up every vacant space in his head. From the moment she lifted her veil he’s been enraptured by her essence. Starving for every scrap of attention she’s willing to give. His wife has become a critical piece of his life, as vitally essential as the breath in his lungs and the sword hanging at his hip.

It’s dangerous, what she’s done to him.

But it’s far, far more dangerous, what he’d do for her.

Her eyes widen with surprise when he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead, but he feels the way she relaxes against him with easy acceptance. Believing she’s safe with him, ignorant of the threats closing in on all sides. Every day drawing nearer and nearer still.

That will have to change, he swears to himself. Her survival depends upon it.

“Yes,” he says at last, and it’s the most honest he’s been with himself in years. “Sometimes he does.”}

Acacius places one hand on your shoulder, the other settles on your hip. There is nothing delicate about his touch, no hesitation about maneuvering your body into a proper defensive stance. Feet shoulder-width apart, knees bent, pugio held in a strong grasp.

“Lower your arm, always aim the blade at your opponent,” Acacius instructs, slipping into his alternate persona as a leader on the battlefield like a second skin, his critical eyes zeroing in on all the mistakes that will get you killed in a moment of danger. “When you hold that dagger, you must hold it with the intent to spill blood, my leaena. Words alone aren’t enough to protect you.”

You swallow, fingers flexing around the hilt. It’s a daunting experience, learning to sever someone’s life thread from an expert on the subject. You’re grateful for the privacy of your domus’ courtyard, concealing your clumsy movements from outsiders who’d undoubtedly laugh at each ungraceful slash and lunge. You resemble a fool, sweaty and fledgling, undeserving of your husband’s calling. The only women you’d seen fight with weapons were gladiatrices at festivals, an exotic and unusual form of entertainment which never failed to attract large crowds. Your mother claimed they brought shame upon womankind, yet when Acacius had asked you to learn, you’d accepted without delay.

She’d disown you immediately if she could see you now. The thought has your stomach churning, a sour taste on the back of your tongue.

“We’re wasting time,” you say, voice hoarse. “I’ll never be strong enough to pose a threat to anyone.”

Acacius clicks his tongue at you. “Never say never, my leaena. You’ll tempt the Fates.”

The courtyard is quiet besides your breathing, and the streets beyond the domus’ walls are empty this time of day. You’re keenly aware of Acacius’ nearness, the slight frown pulling at his lips, like he’s trying to understand your thoughts, and you want to fight him. Howl and claw and lash out like the beast he seeks to bring to light from your depths. But there is nothing there.

“I’m not like you. I can’t be.” His head tilts, still uncomprehending. You gesture at him with your empty hand, the rippling muscles straining the fabric of his sleeveless tunic. “The Atlas Lion. Devourer of the Emperors’ enemies. Ferocity unmatched amongst Rome’s army of warriors.” You then gesture at yourself, forcing the ugly words past your teeth if only so he’ll give up this futile endeavor. “I’m just me.”

The air shifts between you and him, a thick, cloying tension weighing heavily upon your shoulders. It’s only the knowledge that there’s nowhere in all of Cosa you could hide from your husband that keeps you anchored in place even as your heartbeat gallops away. Acacius’ brown eyes darken, thunder clouds blocking out the sun.

And then his callused hands are on your face, palms rough along the underside of your jaw, fingers pressing into the skin, squeezing. Claiming. An inescapable hold.

“Do not,” he starts, voice low and gravelly, a snarling darkness you’ve never heard before and never want to again, “ever speak so poorly of yourself again. How can you think of yourself as anything less than magnificent? How can you not know of the power you wield over me? You’ve made me live again. My heart, long cold and numbed by the trials of war, beats again only for you. There is nothing more valuable to me than your wellbeing–not wealth nor fame, nothing. Is it clear to you yet? You have tamed the Atlas Lion body and soul. This general heeds your every call.”

You shudder, dazed and captivated by his close proximity, his devotion. Intoxicated, that’s what you feel. So caught up in a fog of mindless pleasure you fail to notice him guiding your hand up, up, up until the pugio’s blade is put to his throat.

“All that I am is yours,” Acacius says, hushed now, a secret between lovers. The dagger pierces skin, a thin trickle of blood oozing. You flinch, eyes widening, but his hold remains firm. “Which makes you the most dangerous creature of all. And for that reason, my leaena, you will and you must learn to fight.”

He shoves you backwards a step. It’s not his full strength, more surprising than hurtful, but something inside you uncoils, teeth gnashing. A feeling sparks in your bloodstream, erupting into a wildfire at the look of pride in Acacius’ eye when you reflexively point your pugio at his heart.

You swipe at him, again and again, driven by this new source of power. And through it all he holds your gaze, the brown of his eyes as sharp as the blade in your hand. Neither one says I love you, I’d take a bite out of the world for you but neither one needs to.

Actions have always been louder than words.

“Do you ever think about what’s out there?” you ask one night in bed together. Acacius reclines against the headboard, staring at you through half-lidded eyes as you drag your fingertips over his bare, scarred skin in meaningless patterns.

Would anyone believe this man was the Atlas Lion? A wild, virulent beast compliant and disarmed beneath the gentle stroke of your touch?

No. You think not.

“Out where?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, thumb catching on a particularly rough patch of damaged skin left of his hip bone. Every battle he fought, every combatant he faced—Mars laid fresh claims to his body with each fresh cicatrix.

Claims you challenge the only way you know how. Scrapes of your nails breaking skin and tender presses of your mouth licking up the crimson pearls of blood.

“Beyond the Empire’s borders. Somewhere without war.”

Acacius’ brow creases, gaze alert now, looking at you as if you’ve spoken a different language. “Without war…” he repeats slowly. “My leaena, there is no place such as that. Discordia’s reach is far, farther than the Emperors could ever conquer in their combined lifetimes, stirring up strife deep in the hearts of even the mildest of men, and it will always find an outlet one way or another.”

“Oh.” You clear your throat. It’s not the response you had hoped for, but it’s the one you should have expected. Acacius isn’t the type of man to indulge in far-fetched fantasies of softer living. Can’t be, not with all the horrors he’s witnessed and played a part in crafting.

“But,” Acacius pauses, and his hand covers yours. Not holding or moving it, just staying there. Feeling. “If somewhere without war did exist…” he smiles, a soft and little thing reserved just for these quiet moments. “I’d do whatever it took to get us there.”

The wool for your new palla has been carded and spun into yarn. It stretches and winds around the teeth of your wooden loom, weighed down by terracotta scales.

You’re alone in the domus. Acacius had been summoned by the magistrates for an urgent meeting, and you try not to let fear interfere with your work, an aggressive wasp buzzing at the back of your mind. Your touch remains light when pulling at uneven sections, its intended shape coming together bit by bit. The whooshing of a racing heartbeat echoes in your ears.

So long as there is land outside the Empire’s borders, the Emperors will expect Acacius to conquer it in their names. His time in Cosa is trapped in an hourglass, never quite knowing when the last grain of sand will slip away, summoned back to the front lines for another campaign. Another brush with death. Another chapter added to his legacy.

You feel the sand’s effects sometimes, a sinking sensation threatening to drag you down when you walk with him through the market. Coarse and gritty, scratching your skin as you fall asleep in his arms. Piling so high it chokes you, the cursed inevitability of it all.

Another loop of wool around teeth. Tension taut and held firm. The muscles of your arms burn with effort, left foot tingling uncomfortably from sitting too long with little movement. Cosa’s awake and thriving in the warm weather, echoes of voices drifting in with the breeze, but you’ve never felt more alone. A feeling you dread becoming intimately familiar with sooner or later.

Later, you pray selfishly, desperately, achingly to the Fates. Make it later.

So long as Acacius breathes he will always walk two paths—the path of a general and the path of a husband. And it’s a priority of yours–a requirement as his wife–to find a way to be okay when those paths split and you’re truly left all alone. You must then nurture the tiniest flame of hope one step, one trial, one lonely night at a time. Burning fiercely until every last shadow of doubt is purged from your mind, and the only thing that remains is the steadfast belief he’ll return to your side.

Then you must prepare yourself to do it all over again and again and again…too incapable of challenging the Emperors’ insatiable greed, too mortal to stop the sands of time.

You roll your shoulders once finished, scrutinizing the piece for errors. Later you’ll detach the palla from the loom to cut and tie off the loose end-threads of dangling wool, and later still you’ll take it to the fuller to be washed then to the dyer to be colored. You wonder if Acacius will like the shade of golden yellow you have in mind. If he’ll even be in Cosa to see the finished product or a thousand miles away in the heat of battle. A tremor racks your spine at the thought.

But then the front door opens with a quiet groan, and the cheerfully hummed notes of Acacius’ favorite song float through the house. You smile, heartbeat settling into its natural rhythm with the knowledge he’s here with you. The war has not stolen him away just yet.

“Come, my leaena,” he calls out, and you can hear the grin in his voice without having to see it. “It’s a beautiful day. Should we spend it by the coast?”

There’s an urge to close your eyes, to sink into this moment for all its worth, but sand is rising around your ankles. A reminder of all temporary things.

Your legs can’t move fast enough, drawn to your husband’s side.

Just a little bit longer. Another hour, another day.

You reach for Acacius’ hand, tangling them together, pulling him closer. Always closer.

Another call of my name.

“Let’s not waste a single second.”

#marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius fanfiction #marcus acacius #my fic #pedrostories

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yeonjunsvape · 2 months ago

Text

Mix Tapes

w/c: 2.6k

pairing: nonidol!wonwoo, famous!female reader

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: drinking, dry humping, riding, biting, softcore

a/n: this is the longest fic i’ve made so far and it’s the first of my seventeen genre!! i hope you enjoy, follow and like!! you can also request now, i’m up to write about anything 🫶

your birthdays were never a big celebration for you or your friends, and half of them didn’t even know your actual birth date.

your family gave you wishes in form of texts and you preferred no parties or attention on you, it’s kind of dark, but you just see birthdays as one year closer to death.

“hey honey, have a good birthday tomorrow, miss you xx.” a smile spread across your face when you see your mothers message, missing her like crazy, moving to seoul wasn’t an easy decision but for your career as an actress, it was necessary.

during the free time you had, you made sure to spend it wisely, and go out every night with your friends to party. tonight is just a different club for you to drink dry and dance until you can’t stand anymore.

the car service you ordered was picking you up 4 hours after you arrived and the security guard at the front door escorted you to the car, helping you walk as you were stumbling around.

“thank you, call me, i’ll give you a cameo in my next show.” you slur out, hugging the huge man then stepping inside the car lazily. there was paparazzi and fans taking pictures of you exiting the club, but you were too hammered to care.

the next morning, you woke up with a huge migraine and the clothes you had on the night before. you turn over and see headache medicine then give yourself a high five, “so smart.” you whisper but even blinking hurt so you shudder with pain.

when you check your phone it was filled with messages and calls from multiple people asking if you were okay. your eyebrow raises, then clicks on a link one of your friends sent. the title was ‘actress [Y/N], leaving with a bodyguard after drunken night.’ and the picture was of you hugging the random man who opened the door for you.

your eyes were opened so wide you thought they were going to pop out. “shit.” was all you said and immediately get a call from your mother. you answer, already knowing you were about to be yelled at.

“[Y/N]? have you seen this news? what’s going on?” she asks in a concerned voice but you can tell she had an angry tone. “it’s not true, i just went out with friends and he opened the door for me.” you answer with a sigh, flopping back on your bed. “you’ve gone out every night since your break and it’s not healthy. your dad is on his way to you now, we’ve discussed it and you need to be here with us, this is getting out of control.”

you pop right back up from your pillows and stutter, “n-no mom, i’m an adult, i can handle this, tell him to turn around.”

“better get packing honey, he left about 20 minutes ago, he’ll be there soon. you don’t need too much, you still have things at our house.” she ignores your persistent decline of going back home and hangs up. “shiiiiiitt.” you moan again but louder.

packing the clothes you needed wasn’t hard because you had everything designer at your apartment and your relaxing clothes at your parents house, who lived on a farm.

in their overbearing and smothering ways, your dad just walked in without a knock, smiling bright. “hi dad, i’m almost ready.” you say with attitude and he gives you a hug. “she just wants whats best for you, go along with it or i’ll be the one in trouble.” he chuckles, kissing your forehead. you had no other choice but to agree, and head out to the house you grew up in.

once at the farm, your dad brings your bags inside and your mom walks outside with her hands on her hips. “hi mother, i missed you.” you try to hug her but she tsks. “don’t sweet talk me, i just made dinner for the workers, help me serve them.” she demands and you nod. “oh, and happy birthday, im glad you are here with us for it.”

your eyes roll which you knew your mother hated, but you’d much rather be in your luxury apartment alone and not in a small farmhouse with your needy parents.

“hi [Y/N].” you hear a deep voice mumble shyly and you turn your head around. “hey wonwoo, you still work here?” he nods and grabs the plate of food you handed him.

you knew him since elementary school and slowly grew a friendship because of your brother, mingyu, who gave him a job. “enjoy.” you smile brightly and his heart skips a beat.

you stayed in your room most of the day, looking at all the articles on you, which were fabricated. it made you so mad because you knew everything they said was a lie, but they just wanted to sell stories, truth or not.

you turn your head slightly and see wonwoo out of your window with his shirt off, cutting firewood. “damn he got ripped.” you whisper to yourself and instantly go back to your phone when someone walks in.

it was your mother of course and she hands you an envelope with something loose inside. “i haven’t gotten one of these in years… that’s weird that as soon as i got back home, one arrives.” you whisper, opening the envelope to see an old school cassette tape inside.

it had all the songs you love on the tape and you have been receiving one every year on your birthday. it’s undisclosed on who’s sending it, but you’ve had so many different theories over the years. the only hint the mystery person gave you was a ‘from: WW’ on the front, in english.

you listened to it and just like you assumed, it had the songs you have linked to your spotify playlist as favorites. it was a sweet gesture but also very annoying because who could it be? your mom? a friend? a stalker? secret admirer?

the mixtape was on its last song when your mother comes in, handing you a plate of snacks, “the farm hands are going out for a drink with your brother, do you want to go?” she asks and you shrug, “it’s been a long day.” you mumble but she does her famous ‘tsk’. “its your birthday and even though you don’t like celebrating, you should at least have some kind of fun. the only people going who knows about it, is your brother, uncle, and wonwoo.”

you think for a short period of time and then nod, “alright, i’ll go.”

after getting dressed quickly you kiss both of your parents on the cheek, as does mingyu, and he drives the both of you to the local bar. “hell yeah, i thought you were going to take me somewhere boring.” you cheer and a cheeky smile plastered over mingyu’s face. “you haven’t been inside yet, they just have good food.” he chuckles and you groan.

it definitely wasn’t like a seoul club, instead of A list actors’ eyes on you, it was old local farm workers.

your body got physical chills when one of the men whistled at you, and making you incredibly uncomfortable. “[Y/N], ignore him, he does that to any woman that walks inside.” you hear the same deep voice from earlier, behind you, and leads you to a booth.

“hi wonwoo,” now you were the one who was shy when you remember him chopping wood. “what will you have? it’s on me.” he asks with his typical tiny smile that you always found so innocent.

“apple martini please, extra vodka.” you answer and he nods, going to the bartender to order but was embarrassed to say it out loud with everyone else drinking straight soju.

he brings all the drinks back and you instantly down the martini in one gulp, everyone at the table looking at you with wide eyes. “we didn’t even get to cheers.” mingyu groans out and you let out a giggle, “my bad, i needed it.”

after 3 more, you started feeling the alcohol, along with everyone else at the table, “i’m going to go on stage tonight.” wonwoo announces, lifting up his bottle of soju so everyone could cheers him.

this side to him was unfamiliar but you liked it, he was much more himself when he’s laughing with his friends.

“what song will you be playing?” you ask and he shakes his head, “it’s going to be a surprise.” he answered, taking another shot. “come to the dance floor, i want you guys to make it seem like i have a crowd.” wonwoo chuckles, his lips wider than you’ve ever seen.

you stand up along with the other men, walking to the dance floor as wonwoo steps on stage, and grabbing the guitar.

he played so well, you were just staring into his eyes, soon not listening to the song he sang, and just being drifted away in the music.

your ears perk up a bit when you listened to the lyrics he sang and they started sounding familiar, it was a song on the mixtape.

‘the top song on my playlist… WW…wonwoo…?’ you tell your inner monologue, and everything started coming together. wonwoo was your secret admirer?

the room started to spin then, before you knew it, your body turned around and without meaning to, your legs began to run.

you didn’t know how you were going to get home drunk, but you continued to run down the dirt rural road.

“[Y/N]! [Y/N]!” you hear someone yell behind you and finally the voice got closer. wonwoo caught up with you, grabbing your wrist and twisting you around to face him. “why did you run out like that?” he asks, both of you out of breath.

“you’re WW, the one who has sent me mixtapes every year on my birthday since i was 10.” you cry out and he lets your wrist go. “are you mad?”

you chuckle and look up at the sky, immediately feeling sober. “mad?” you ask back, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, slamming your lips on his. “it’s the sweetest thing i’ve ever experienced.” you whisper against his lips and can feel him smiling as he kisses back.

“come on, let me take you back home, its late.” wonwoo pulls away slowly, taking your hand. “i’m not tired,” you whisper lowly, feeling embarrassed about the situation.

the mystery was finally solved after all these years.

“let’s go somewhere and talk then.” wonwoo suggests, walking the both of you back to your farm. “there’s a storage shed where i go to get away for a bit.” he grasps your hand tighter and climbs up a ladder to the top window of the shed, over looking the land.

“this is beautiful at night.” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder. “i can’t believe it’s you, i’m shocked.” wonwoo hums at your words, leaning his head down so he’s looking at you in the eyes. “really? i thought i was being obvious.” he jokes and you giggle, giving him another kiss. “well, now i know why you’re always shy around me but out going with everyone else.”

“yeah, you make me nervous.” he whispers, swallowing hard after the kiss. you see his adams apple go up and down when he swallows, tracing it with your finger slowly. “pretty.” you mumble, then reach up to kiss it.

wonwoo leans his head back slowly and feels each kiss on his neck, making him swallow harder. your lips turn into a smirk and swing a leg around his waist so you were now sat in his lap, continuing to kiss.

“[Y/N…]” he groans soft, beginning to become firm underneath you. “it’s okay wonwoo, i want to.” you whisper in his ear, grinding down slow on his lap.

“will you remember it tomorrow?” he pulls away, looking into your eyes. you nod, giving him another kiss, but more passionate this time.

wonwoo wraps his arms around your waist, then starts leading your hips into a dry hump. you could tell he liked it slow and passionate instead of hard.

his kiss made your heart flutter, and the feeling of his fingertips on your arms so he could take your dress off made you wet as hell. “you’re the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen in my life.” he mumbles against your lips, unhooking your bra once the dress was off.

“you got ripped as hell since i left.” you giggle, pulling away from the kiss so you could see his chest again. you pull his tight shirt off, and move your hands around his bare chest, drooling at the sight. “damn.” you whisper, moving your hips at a steady pace, moaning gently.

hearing the low groans he made at the grinds made you even wetter and you crawl off his lap slow.

he just watched, and letting you do whatever you want, which you love, you like being in the lead when it comes to sex.

you slide down his pants and lean down, kissing his fully erect dick through his underwear, wonwoo unintentionally bucking his hips up.

you smirk, taking this chance to take his boxers off and back up a little bit at the sight of his dick size. he gives you an uncertain look when he sees you pull away and you giggle at his cute face. “you’re huge wonwoo, what the hell.” you continue to laugh and he looks away while blushing.

you continue with his huge cock, and gripped it at the base. “can i suck on it?” you ask, already knowing the answer but you want to hear him say it out loud.

while you stroke him in your hand he groans, nodding fast. “please, please suck on it.” you smile bright and lean down, wrapping your lips around his tip.

wonwoo let out a cry of pleasure once you start bobbing your head and he grabs your hair in his hand. “that feels amazing,” he moans, throwing his head back.

you blush at his confirmation, gliding your tongue along the side of his dick, making his hips buck again. “[Y/N], that feels so good but i’m going to cum soon if you don’t stop.” wonwoo whimpers, pulling on your hair slightly.

you pull away slowly and lick his tip, tasting his precum before pulling off your underwear quickly, and sitting back on his lap.

the feeling of his cock stretching you out hurt at first but soon began to feel euphoric as you start bouncing on it. “oh fuck.” wonwoo whispers out, kissing on your neck so he didn’t moan too loud.

his moans made you tighten around him with every bounce and he grabs your ass cheeks, slamming up in you.

you put one of his hands around your mouth so you didn’t yell and bounce faster, gripping both of your boobs in your hands. “im about to cum [Y/N]” he moans out, slamming into you once again.

“me too, you can cum in me,” you mumble against his hand, biting on it from pleasure before feeling your release come in seconds.

wonwoo grunts from the biting and his orgasm, shooting a load of cum inside of your pussy. “fuuuuck.” he drags out, still thrusting inside you until the sensitivity made him stop. you get off his lap and kiss his lips softly, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

he lays the both of you down so you were cuddling, giving each other kisses here and there, laying in silence. “i’m glad it was you.” you whisper, feeling his head look down at you.

“i’m glad you figured it out, happy birthday [Y/N].”

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meazalykov · 2 months ago

Text

a day in my life

sydney lohmann x contentcreatorwife!reader (requested)

summary: you're a content creator who shares her life with her millions of followers

you open your tiktok app, the bright and colorful icon glowing on your phone screen, you yawn as you spend hours editing– or should you say preparing to share another piece of your life with your vast audience of 3 million followers.

scrolling through your feed, you can't help but feel the warmth of your community surrounding you. every comment under your videos makes you smile, each one a reminder of the positive space you've created.

viewers quickly praise how pretty and gorgeous you look while also expressing their admiration for the delicious meals you whip up, your hygiene hauls, your skincare and haircare tutorials, grocery shopping vlogs, and more.

the positivity is intoxicating, and you thank them for contributing such joyful energy to your day.

the sun filters softly through your kitchen window, casting a golden hue over the space. it feels like the perfect day to create something cozy and comforting—a hearty soup, perhaps, or a flavorful stir-fry, something you know your followers will appreciate and be excited to try.

you set your phone on the countertop, adjusting the camera and tripod until it captures just the right angle of your kitchen and you busy at work. the space is organized yet warm, with hanging herbs in the background, jars of spices lining the shelves, and an array of fresh vegetables waiting for your expert touch.

as you gather your ingredients, you glance over at your pets lounging nearby in the spacious living room.

your three cats, each with their unique personalities, are nestled in their favorite spots—your tabby is laying on the windowsill soaking up the sunlight, your calico sprawled lazily on the kitchen rug closest to you, and the void kitty perched atop a wooden stool, watching you intently.

your dog, an affectionate golden retriever, lays by your feet, occasionally looking up at you with big, adoring eyes as if to say, “what’s for dinner, can you drop something please?”

these little moments bring you joy. you adore taking care of them, and they, in turn, seem to love being a part of your daily influencer journey, often making cameo appearances in your videos.

you begin chopping vegetables as you talk to the camera, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board a comforting backdrop to your thoughts.

“what’s your secret to looking so beautiful while cooking?” one comment might ask, while another expresses their desire to make cooking look as fun as you do.

you know that sharing your passion for cooking, hygiene tips, and pet care not only showcases your lifestyle but also encourages your followers to embrace their own routines with confidence.

between chopping, you take a moment to wash your hands, the cool water refreshing against your skin. you make a point to highlight hygiene in your videos, explaining the importance of cleanliness in every kitchen as you scrub away.

“keeping things clean not only makes your food better but also should give you peace of mind,” you say, glancing up at the camera with a playful smile and eyebrow wiggle.

that’s what this is about for you—creating an environment that feels secure and inviting, one that resonates with others who might feel the same way.

as you move on to your next ingredient in the video—a bright red bell pepper—you read the comments on your videos. you feel a rush of excitement. you know your followers are eager to engage.

“what’s your go-to meal for busy weekdays?” someone comments.

you pause, contemplating.

“anything that has rice, vegetables, and some kind of protein!” you replied to the comment, explaining one of your favorite dishes.

the chopping and mixing continue in the video,giving some kind of asmr affect while you talked from the voiceover. each time you look at the comments, you see familiar usernames offering support, commenting on something silly that might’ve happened in your video (one of your cats knocking over the flour), and how gorgeous your meals look.

it’s heartwarming to see names familiar to you—followers who have always been there, cheering you on. they ask questions about your daily routines with the pets, wanting to know how you manage your time, how you balance it all while fulfilling the role of a traditional wife.

you realize your life might not resonate with many— but they still see themselves in your routines.

“this is my favorite part,” you say in the video with a smile as you hear the timer go off for the food you put in the oven, giving a little twirl in front of the camera. the laughter that fills your kitchen feels contagious as you channel your enthusiasm into the moment.

every so often, you peek at your pets, which you do in the video. you held up your calico cat, who meows at the camera before you give her a light kiss on the head. you put her down and the clip cuts to you taking the food off of the stove and out of the oven.

with your pets, you can’t help but share snippets of your pet care routine as well, talking about their feeding times, grooming, and little quirks that make them uniquely lovable. your content is filled with different stuff, which is how you attracted many people to your content.

“my cats love to get into everything,” you chuckle, and you can see your viewers relating to those everyday struggles that come with pet families.

“off topic to the video but do you have any favorite fragrance scents?” you read one comment.

you nodded knowingly before typing to reply to that comment.

“i have a video posted about that coming soon :)”

you happily respond to some comments, knowing it would be unrealistic to reply to all of the comments you get from thousands of users. you genuinely enjoy helping others and answering their questions—whether it’s about your favorite recipes, store vlogs, or trad wife jokes.

as you dive deeper into the comments on your latest tiktok video, you notice a recurring theme: questions about your “husband.”

at first, you chuckle to yourself. you can see why people might think that; after all, the shimmering ring on your finger is hard to miss. it’s a beautiful reminder of your commitment—a symbol of love and partnership.

as you scroll, a sense of mild frustration settles in. many viewers comment on why you never showcase your husband in your videos or joke about him going “off-camera.”

living in munich and posting in perfect english can sometimes create misinterpretations. your followers likely pictured a traditional marriage between a man and a woman, and while a part of you understands the confusion, it feels strange to think that they have constructed an image of your life that doesn’t quite align with reality.

your heart swells with pride knowing you're part of a loving partnership, but there’s a longing to set the record straight. you’re not married to a husband; you’re married to your beautiful wife, sydney.

sydney, a football player for bayern munich, doesn’t post much about her personal life on social media, opting instead to keep her professional and personal worlds somewhat separate. this could explain why your followers often don’t make the connection between the two of you; to most, she’s just an athlete in the spotlight who just cares about her club and her national team.

she works hard, dedicating herself to her sport, and while she’s known widely for her skills on the field, she doesn’t share the same kind of social media presence as you do. it was always you who took the lead in posting, sharing your daily life and exploring the joys of cooking, cleaning, and caring for each other.

as you set the camera up for another video, the ring glimmering on your finger catches your eye once more. you reflect on the day you exchanged vows with sydney three years ago, a small celebration filled with laughter and love among close friends and family.

it was perfect in its simplicity—just two women, madly in love, promising to navigate life together. while you take care of the cooking and household duties, sydney has her own passion and career, bringing balance to your lives.

the dynamic you’ve built over the years is one that thrives on mutual support and respect.

picturing sydney’s infectious smile, you can’t help but feel a pang of longing for her to be part of your videos, sharing moments together with your viewers. however, you know she’s more private, focusing on her career and you privately with her friends and acquaintances.

perhaps it’s time to find a way to bring her into your vibrant world online, to showcase your life together and dispel the assumptions that others have made.

waking up in the morning, the dog was snuggled beside sydney as your calico cat was laying on top of your left leg. the both of you still groggy and half-sleepy. however, sydney didn’t have anything football related so you decided to stay in bed for the bit longer before waking her up.

later, after making breakfast and filming the sizzling sounds of bacon cooking alongside fluffy scrambled eggs, you brewed a steaming pot of coffee. the warm aroma filled the air as you took a moment to scroll on your latest post’s comments.

you posted the video the night before and decided to not check the comments until the following morning.

the reasoning why? you posted your wife for the first time on your page, blowing up the assumptions about you having a, “husband.”

in the video, your “spend the day with me” vlog, you began to prepare lunch by chopping some bell peppers as sydney’s arms wrap around you from behind. relaxed in that clip of the video, you turned your head to see sydney, her playful grin lighting up your heart.

“don’t cut yourself!” she teased, but the video couldn’t hear it since you were doing a voiceover.

syd started planting kisses along your neck, moving from your temple down to your shoulders. it was a spontaneous moment, and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter, knife in hand, with the clip showing the love that was filled in your eyes.

the unsuspecting viewers were treated to an endearing glimpse into your marriage, the warmth and tenderness so apparent even through the screen.

the comments exploded after you posted the video hours before:

“is that a woman you were cuddling with?”

“WOAHHH Y/N IS GAY TOO???”

while many found joy in your representation, others were filled with disbelief. you could feel the surge of both surprise and excitement—when love is real, it knows no bounds. some expressed their admiration, saying “i love that you’re a lesbian trad wife!”

the curiosity didn’t stop there. as the day unfolded, you posted another cute video of sydney playing with your golden retriever in the backyard.

the sun reflected off her hair, illuminating her playful smile as she dribbles a ball with her foot for the eagerly bouncing dog. the clip was heartwarming, showcasing the simple joy the three of you shared—a family moment that anyone could relate to.

however, it was this clip that sent the comments section into a complete frenzy:

“IS THAT SYDNEY LOHMANN?”

“I KNOW I'VE SEEN YOUR WIFE BEFORE WHY DOES SHE LOOK FAMILIAR?”

“that's me in the background drowning in the pool (i’m jealous).”

while a faction of your followers were well-versed in european football, many, especially those from the united states, didn’t immediately identify the familiar figure.

soon, the chatter erupted:

“wait, is she a bayern munich player? i swear ive seen her before?”

“OMG, I love her!”

people started connecting the dots, and as they did, a wave of excitement washed over you. sydney was known in germany for her skills on the field, but now more than ever, they’d see her as a loving partner.

while your heart swelled with happiness at the support spiraling around you, you felt a familiar itch to address all the questions and assumptions.

some of your followers were new, and you wanted to ensure they understood the depth of your relationship with sydney. so you made a decision; it was time to sit down for a more heartfelt conversation about your coming out story and the experiences you both shared navigating your lives together.

the following night, after a long tiring day filled with engagement and a repeat of that joyous exchange of laughter, you set up your camera for a “get unready with me for bed” video.

the lights were dimmed, and the ambiance in your bathroom felt cozy—slippers on your feet, hair pinned back by your pink headband, and your skincare products lined up on the counter cast in soft shadows.

it was an intimate setting, one where you could be vulnerable and share your truth.

as you began applying your cleansing balm, you took a deep breath.

“hey everyone, it’s Y/N. I thought it would be a great time to address everything that’s been going on. I want to share a little bit about my coming out story and what it means to be married to the incredible woman that is my wife, sydney,” you began, feeling the familiarity of camera anxiety dissipating as you focused on the sincerity of your message.

you continued as you moved through your skincare routine, gently massaging the balm into your skin.

“you know, coming out isn’t a one-time event. for me, it first began in high school. there were hints that i was gay around the age of 14 but i didn’t accept that until i was 16.. keep in mind, i was terrified, just like many others who start to accept that they’re gay. my school experience was not easy, and I had moments—cruel whispers, bullying, rejection. thankfully, my parents were accepting when i came out and i was able to lean on them for support along with my friends. i also found solace in art and creativity.”

pausing for a moment, you looked down at your skincare products, lost in thought.

“but then came moving to munich. it felt like a fresh start. that’s when I met sydney through my mutual friend, klara, who also plays with sydney and oh my goodness, she was captivating! so full of passion and life. she pulled me in with her laughter, and not to be corny or anything– but it felt like the universe conspired for us to find each other. loving her was just so easy; it felt effortless. her loving me felt so easy and loving her felt the same.”

as your vulnerability unfolded, the likes and comments increased.

using a luxurious night cream, you gently applied it to your face while you spoke candidly, reflecting on your marriage.

“syd and i have been married for three years now. we got eloped before having a ceremony a year later.. i’m not even kidding when i say that every day is filled with joy, support, and a deep respect for one another. it makes me so grateful because i thought my life was over when i first started to suspect that i was gay and catching feelings for women. with my wife, sydney inspires me with her dedication. she is so passionate when she is playing football on her club and national team– the way she pours herself into everything she does.”

then came the part that had been weighing on your mind. looking directly into the camera, you took another deep breath.

“I know there are some comments out there that reflect hate, misunderstanding, and a refusal to accept love in its many forms. to those hateful people, I say: disrespectfully, go fuck yourselves.” a smirk graced your lips before you laughed. you are never known for swearing in your videos, usually only swearing with your close peers while in casual conversation.

“love is love, and if you can’t accept that, you have no place to be following me, a gay woman.”

the enthusiasm of your voice resonated with your audience, and you felt the weight lift. you began to share advice for those struggling with their identities.

“if you’re in a situation where you feel alone or scared, know that you’re not. find your community, speak your truth, and hold on to the love you deserve. don’t let anyone dim your light. being true to yourself is beautiful, and no one can take that from you.”

as you finished your skincare routine, the sincerity poured through your last words.

“thank you all for being part of our journey; your support means everything. please continue to uplift love wherever it takes shape, and remember that we are all worthy of love, no matter what form it comes in.” you concluded with a genuine smile, and the warmth you felt radiated through the screen.

the video ended after that and a rush of fulfillment washed over you watching the video—a feeling of peace knowing that you had shared your story authentically and embraced the support from your community.

the comments section overflowed with love, connections ignited among those who shared similar experiences, and others who were just here to celebrate who you and sydney were.

in the days that followed, your bond with your followers deepened. newfound friendships blossomed, and more importantly, the vocal support poured in from every corner of your online community.

the journey continued to blossom as you shared snippets of your life with sydney, including her playful moments with your pets, cooking meals together, or even just sharing lazy afternoons on the couch. you came to look forward to posting every video, each one serving as a vibrant reminder of the love you both cherished, and nothing could ever take away that feeling.

masterlist

#sydney lohmann #sydney lohmann x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #gerwnt #bayern frauen

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mistermistyyy · 2 months ago

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oooooofk ok I watched fan letter and I got so many thoughts rn.

I love how you can just tell that this was directed and written by people who grew up loving one piece. I love that the main character was a girl who idolized nami. I dunno it just feels so much more personal than if it was a boy who looked up to luffy (or god forbid a guy who was horny for nami like in the novel this short loosely adapted). Just looking up to this person not for their strength but for what they represent, for how much their accomplishment inpires you. Especially when it's in an environment filled with men. I know I'm not a woman so I can't speak for anyone but I definitely can tell this was relatable to a lot of women who grew up watching one piece and looked up to nami

And oh my god the Marine who was indirectly saved by luffy. This shit made the summit war look terrifying my god. Just seeing all the normal people who get crushed by every attack. It really does feel kind of crazy to think that luffy had such a profound influence on this man's life when he just so happened to be on the same island as him on one specific day. Or how nami simply existing serves as a daily inspiration for the girl. It's such a moving message, how your accomplishments can change and shape the lives of people you won't even know existed. Even if nami will never get the girls letter, she managed changed her life for the better whether she knows it or not

And also it's just really funny. I love the guys in the bar just dunking on zoro and sanji lmao. Or the marine who is just so in love with chopper (same, dude). And all the little cameos oughh. Thank you usopp for helping that girl for no reason. That's why you're the goat. Ouurggh and perona oh my gahhh. Dude and the animation my lord man. Absolutely wonderful short. Seriously, quit stretching the contents of the manga out for the anime, just gimme more filler if it's on the quality of this episode holy

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mistymisfit · 5 months ago

Note

first off, I absolutely adore your writing!! It’s got me kicking my feet and giggling.

Can I please request a domestic Dick x reader where they’re having an at home date night (like watching a movie, doing face masks, cooking together - any of those kinda things) and it keeps getting interrupted by Dicks siblings?

thank youuuuu <3 and sorry this took too long (and if the ending feels rushed), hope you like it

warnings: no plot just fluff and batfamily cameos, established relationship, a few dirty jokes, suggestive content, Tim getting traumatized.

wc: 2,2k

You smile to yourself, finally you get to have a normal night with you boyfriend. He's staying at home, having a date night at home, ah the wonders of a dislocated shoulder. His injury would only put him out of action for a couple of weeks since it wasn't that bad, but you would still try to enjoy the time you get with him--even if hes puffing and huffing in annoyance. He's been a vigilante since he was 12 and he doesn't know anything else, so he's especially reluctant to accept the time off. Lucky for him, he's quickly convinced when you tell him how much he deserves a break and that you'll take care of him until he feels better.

"Here, just make sure it doesn't burn" You signal, putting the spoon on his good hand and letting him take care of the sauce.

"Sure" His eyes follow you as you move around his --not so big-- apartment kitchen. You wore one of his t-shirts, why he owned merch of himself was beside you but you couldn't ignore the smile that appeared on his face every time you wore it."So what are the plans for tonight?"

"We're having dinner, then we'll do some face masks," you list off "we could bake brownies if you're up for dessert, and there's this new movie I want to watch"

"Of course I'm up for dessert" He jokes, catching your arm when you step closer to him.

He has a devilish grin when he kisses you, forgetting he was supposed to be cooking dinner with you. You let him distract you, but not before your hand quietly lowers the stove to minimum heat behind him. The spoon falls, left behind as he walks you until you're trapped between the kitchen counter and him. The hand that's not caught in the arm sling cups your face, getting more demanding with the kiss. You sit on the kitchen counter before he asks and he nods, grateful. You're not sure he could lift you up with one arm, even if he's proven the past few days he didn't need both of them to manhandle you as he usually does. The perks of training your entire life.

There's a noise outside the window right when you wrap your legs around him. At first, you both ignore it, but as it repeats again and again, you realize it was not a random noise but someone knocking. There's not that many people who would be able to knock on an eighth story window.

"I'll go," He sighs, reluctantly letting go of you.

You nod, picking up the spoon and washing it on the sink as you try to listen to the hushed conversation. You can tell it was one of his siblings, even if you could only hear half of what they say. So when you finally take a look, hiding behind a wall, you are not surprised to see Damian in his Robin suit in the living room.

"Hi Damian, isn't it a bit too early to be Robin?" You wave

"Richard, you did not tell me that your beloved was here" He recriminates; you think it's adorable to see such a cute thing talking like an old man. He greets you, calling you by your last name as he usually does. Then his nose scrunches up,as if sniffing the air like a cat "are you making...?"

His question is not even finished as he walks past his older brother, who rolls his eyes saying"Yes, it's their gnocchi recipe, yes, you may stay for dinner"

You pout, silently telling him he's cute so he should be more forgiving towards his younger brother. He loves that you like his sibling, the one he raised for a while, but he also hates that all the little demon has to do is make a puppy face and you'd agree to anything.

Later in the evening, you found yourselves hyper focused on a backgammon game. You were both sitting on carpet in the living room, the game set on the coffee table. It was a hilarious sight for you, him competitive as always with his hair pushed back by one of your headbands and brows so furrowed you could see them under his blue face mask. Which he only agreed to do once you sat on his lap and offered to put it on for him; suddenly, all his complaints about "I'll break out" or "I don't like the way it feels on me" silenced. You know he secretly loves doing skincare with you, he just likes what you do to convince him more.

"Stop staring, you're trying to distract me"

"Am not!" You gently shoved his healthy arm, pretending to be offended at the accusation.

"Yes, you are" He childishly sticks his tongue out before moving his piece. You huff, taking the dice and rolling them in your hand but not letting go of them yet.

He moves closer to you, his breath fanning over your neck before you ask; "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you don't cheat"

"And how would I do that?" You turn your head lightly to look at him.

"That's why I'm looking at you" He shrugs

"Sure," You smile, amused,"and you're not projecting onto me, Richard"

He puts his hand over his chest, as if holding his heart, and pretends to be deeply disturbed by your words. Even going as far as falling on the carpet behind you. Done with his distracting antics, you finally roll the dice. Your lips tug in a big smile when you see the numbers.

"I got two sixes," you announce, and he quickly gets up.

"No way,"

"Yes way" This was your turn of sticking your tongue out to him.

He can't believe how much you're kicking his ass when he was the one who taught you how to play. He wants so badly to kiss that smug grin off your face, and he is about to turn your focus from moving the pieces when someone else surprises you both.

"How old are you two?" Steph jokes, closing the window she came in through

"Hi Steph," you smile "I'm winning"

She steps closer to high-five you as he shakes his head no, disapproving your celebration before adding; "Only 'cause you're cheating" as he gets up.

"Can I have your files on the Riddler, pretty please?" Steph asks, getting to the point of her visit.

He warns you not to touch anything before he gets up to find his secured laptop on his safe. He's going to be out of action for a while, so it's not like he could after him, might as well give them to someone else. When he returns a few minutes later with a flash drive full of the information she needs, he finds you both gossiping on his couch way too comfortably. You gasp as she tells you something, Steph clearly agreeing with your reaction. He waits, he doesn't want to interrupt just yet. His heart feels so full when he sees you get along so well with his family that he wants to save the moment for a little more.

"You got those files?" She asks when she finally notices him standing on the doorway outside the bedroom.

"Yeah," He throws the flash drive and she catches with impeccable reflexes"you're welcome"

"Thanks," She smiles before heading back out the window and telling you;"Kick his ass in that game"

You smile and promise you will, and he looks down to realize just how really over it was for him. So when you're distracted waving at Steph, he kicks the table to move the set. You turn back to see him, and before you can even get mad, he tells you he wants to cuddle up and watch a movie.

You let his little plan work, but not without calling him a sore loser. He pats the space next to him on the couch with a proud grin as he turns the TV on. You roll your eyes, settling down next to his good side so he can wrap an arm around you the way he likes. He may be a sore loser, but you're the one letting him get away with it. Halfway through the movie, you pause to take off the face-masks and catch him staring a little too much in the mirror.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," You raise an eyebrow, not believing in his reply"I don't have eye bags and I'm not used to it"

"Duh, you've been sleeping at night like a normal person recently"

"I'll give you a reason to stay up all night" He bites back, his hand skillfully landing on your hips to make sure you stay in place as he takes a step to stand behind you.

"Come on, I wanna see how it ends" You're fast to move out of his hold, God knows how easily you fall for his charm every time.

You cuddle back on the couch hitting play on the horror movie you watched again, the lights were off to help the mood. He liked when you flinched as held him tighter even if the movie was scaring him more than you. You relax with your head on his shoulder, both arms wrapped around his as his sat on your thigh.

"See? Your skin is so soft" You smile, a hand reaching to caress his cheek.

"You're the one who wanted to watch the movie," He puffs "now I wanna know if they exorcise the demon"

You roll your eyes, shifting back your attention to the screen. The movie was building up to a jump scare, the tense music and ambient, something scary was bound to pop up in seconds. What neither of you expected was that the scare was going to come from outside the movie. Cass stepped in front of the TV to get your attention, and you both screamed. Dick could swear the stitches in her mask moved up in a smile as you both held tightly into each other.

"Steph came by and left like an hour ago," He says, once he regains his composure. He's aware now of how down his guard was, it was not normal for him to be startled this easily.

She hums and nods, leaving as fast as she appeared. Giving you both a wave before jumping off your window. Now you're too freaked to go back to the movie. Suddenly, watching horror movies in the dark didn't seem like a good idea anymore, especially when he had a plethora of younger siblings willing to break in at any given moment. His hand rubs your back gently, and you giggle once the adrenaline worn down over how silly it was. He laughs with you, telling you that he's never going to live it down and how they're going to make fun as soon as he sees them again. You smile before pressing a kiss to his lips, he looked too handsome when he laughed.

"I don't want to watch the movie anymore"

"Okay, I can lock the window," he offers, grinning when you nod.

Some time later, you were still on the couch, though now your clothes were scattered around the living room. A sitcom plays instead as you rest on top of him with your head on his chest, the blanket covering until your waist while he has his arms on top of you, his hand tracing circles on your bare back. He was still all smiles and loopy from you riding him, maybe being injured had a good side. Maybe Gotham could afford not having Nightwing every once in a while.

"What are you thinking about?"

"You,"He replies, flustering you and making you hide your face in his chest. "maybe I could stay in with you"

You lift your head to look at him, eyes shining with joy before he says; "Once a month" You pout in response, even if it's better than nothing.

"Maybe I convince you to once a week" You flirt, your lips finding the spot in his neck he likes having kissed way too much.

"Once every two weeks," He smirks, his hand going from your back to your hips again.

"Dick!" A younger voice yells from a different room in the apartment, "Why did you give Steph your files?! I called dibs on them when you got inj-"

He's quick to react, pulling the blanket higher to cover you. He is almost as fast to scold his younger brother; asking how did he come in as the other profusely apologizes, covering his eyes and turning his back. Your face heats up, you have never been more embarrassed in your entire life. you hide under the blanket as he reaches for his underwear, which luckily was close enough that he didn't have to get up to get it. If any humor was left in you, you'd laugh at him showing Tim the way out as he teaches him a lesson on basic boundaries and the consequences of breaking into someone's place. You would've laughed at Tim's comment of needing therapy to delete the image from his head if it happened to anyone else.

"I'm never showing my face to your family again" You say once he comes back and he laughs, clearly taking this way better than you.

#w: dick #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x reader fluff #nightwing x reader

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melancholy-of-nadia · 4 months ago

Text

la la lost you (m) | cyj

title: la la lost you pairing: yeonjun x f. reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; fluff, smut ; rivals to lovers au; fake relationship au summary: choi yeonjun was simply just your academic rival, competing for honors at graduation during your senior year. however, when one of your (distant) friends’ brothers is getting married, your 3 guy best friends all have dates to the event except you. in order not to feel like a loser, you decide to call up the only other tolerable male you know: Yeonjun, to be your fake date. what will happen when a childish fake date scheme actually ends up turning into your first real relationship lasting an entire summer. it may ultimately.. not end well. warnings: fluff, smut, language, underage drinking, summer fling, riding, fake relationship, oral s*x, car s*x, multiple dates, overprotective yoonminjoon, cameos of other idols, cumming, kisses, partying, angst, eventual break up note: this is a prequel one shot to the 'love u lately' series. however you don't need to read that series to understand this one shot. honestly might be better if you haven’t read it! it will heavily focus on the mentioned previous relationship reader had with yeonjun before starting college (which explains certain events and character thoughts in the series) and well as the perspectives of yoonminjoon and their attitudes towards it as they were still struggling with how they feel towards reader, which is explored in 'love u lately' I hope my btxt lovers can enjoy this fic! (please note that this is about 15% unedited, so apologies for any grammatical errors in advances) total word count: 21.5k drop date: September 13th, 2023 12:30PM PST ao3 link | fic is named after NIKI's song La La Lost You (2019)

–

Daniel Yeonjun Choi.

You encountered him in your Honors English class during freshman year, and somehow, he's always been in the same AP or Honors classes as you.

On the contrary, Jimin’s only been in five classes with you throughout high school. So this opened up and lot of time for you to get to know Yeonjun. He has been a constant presence after all, vying with you for the highest grades in your shared classes. He’s also very blunt and teased you a lot, just out of pure enjoyment to see your reaction. If he couldn’t beat you in academics, he found other ways to torture you.

"Wait you didn't go to prom?" Yeonjun's voice cut through the classroom, drawing the attention of your AP Government class.

You let out a sigh, trying to deflect the conversation. "Can we drop that? We have a project to work on," you said, gesturing towards the thick stack of papers detailing famous court cases.

Yeonjun persisted, his curiosity apparent. "But why didn't you go?" His tone bordered on obnoxious, earning a laugh from Mark, who sat nearby. Mark knew he was enabling his behavior, but didn’t care.

From what you recall, Jimin went to prom with some girl you don’t know. You didn’t have a date, nor close female friends without dates to spend the night at the Grand Strawberry Hill Golf Course. Tickets were $50. You would rather spend the night bussing down tables at the cafe you work out and use that money on something else. The list goes on.

"I just didn't feel like it, okay? Plus, I had work," you replied, hoping to end the discussion.

Yeonjun's response was simple but cutting. "Lame."

You rolled your eyes at Yeonjun's comment, feeling the urge to defend yourself against their teasing.

Mark chimed in, a mischievous grin on his face. "Come on, Y/N, you missed out on the highlight of senior year!"

"Yeah, Y/N, how could you skip out on the chance to dance the night away with the love of your life?" Yeonjun added, his tone teasing but playful.

You sighed, feeling slightly exasperated. "It's not that big of a deal. Just an expensive dance. Plus I don’t have a ‘love of my life’ anyway."

You don’t. You’ve crushed on a guy here or there, but no one to actually feel compelled to be with. Wonwoo was cute though, but he transferred schools not long after you two fucked due to the Virginity Race. And no, there’s no correlation between what happened and him transferring.

Sensing that his comment had struck a chord within you, he stopped pressing on.

“Anyway, so about the case study, should we do the supreme court case where…” Yeonjun sighed loudly, changing the topic to the assignment you had been so keen to work on.

He enjoyed seeing you get flustered, but not upset or sad. It was never his intention. That was because, maybe, somewhere in his little evil Virgo heart, he kind of liked you.

You don’t know when that seed of thought was planted in his mind. Maybe when you two had to do a Romeo and Juliet film project for Honors English class during your freshmen year? Or was it when you two were on the student council during junior year? He was just a side character in your life that would make big appearances here and there, but one thing you know for sure is that him becoming the main character in your life was due to one event. The event that truly kickstarted everything happened a week after this interaction.

The wedding invite.

“You’re inviting me to your brother’s wedding?” You say, dumbfounded.

“Yeah! You’re my friend after all!”

“Seokjin, I am the one who barely knows you out of the 4 of us.” You exclaim, making the other guys laugh.

The sun beats down mercilessly as you all sit outside In-N-Out, trying to seek refuge from the sweltering May heat. Namjoon, Yoongi, and Seokjin are enjoying a brief break from university life, having returned home for the weekend. They wanted to meet up with you and Jimin, who were already drinking milkshakes and scarfing down some animal fries before they arrived and joined you two.

Seokjin's mom had asked for Jin’s help in hand-delivering invitations for his brother's upcoming wedding. The ceremony is slated for the weekend before your and Jimin's high school graduation. She wants it to be huge, so she tells Jin to invite everyone and anyone he knows.

To be completely honest, you don’t know Jin that well. He didn’t even go to the same high school as you. It’s because your best friends’ parents go to the same church, Our Lady of Peace, as his parents. That’s how they all met. And eventually how you ended up meeting him/ There are these other guys in your extended friend group too, but you can’t remember their names right now.

As the conversation veers towards the wedding's details, you lean in with interest. "Where’s it happening at?" you ask, genuinely intrigued.

"Oak Creek Golf Club,"

"There? Wow, I heard that place is fancy!" you remark, a flicker of excitement igniting within you. "Wait, do we have to bring… a plus one to this?" The words stumble out awkwardly, earning you a questionable look from Jimin.

Jin's response is quick and jovial. "A plus one? You mean a date?" he clarifies, amusement coloring his tone.

You nod slowly.

"Yeah, you can bring a date if you want. My mom said the more the merrier! I know Namjoon is bringing Hyungseo—" Jin's words are cut off by Namjoon's interjection, his discomfort evident.

Hyungseo? Oh, must be another one of Joon’s flings, you think.

“Jin…” He warns the older man.

"It's not a secret, plus I'm sure they're bringing dates too, right?" Jin redirects the conversation smoothly, addressing you, Jimin and Yoongi.

Jimin jumps in with a sassy affirmation. "Yeah, of course we are!" he declares, nodding emphatically.

Yoongi's eyes dart to you, gauging your reaction subtly, causing a flutter of nerves in your stomach. With a nod, you confirm your attendance, feeling a surge of relief at joining in the banter.

"Yeah! And I already have someone too!" you announce, met with a chorus of surprised responses from the three men.

“You do?” The three men question in unison.

You don’t.

You don’t even want to bring a date.

But if they’re bringing dates, then you must bring one or else you’re going to be the biggest loser there!

Plus, you already said you would bring one and if you don’t, you’ll be framed as a liar.

One major thing about this is that: You don’t want to get bombarded by random Korean aunties asking if you have a boyfriend or offering you their son who is in medical or law school to be your husband. You don’t want to get asked why you don’t have one either.

You just don’t. You never had time for it.

Your parents drilled this into you since day 1 of preschool: Study hard. No boyfriend until college, and well, you followed through with that. Yup. We’re not going to talk about the “Amazing Virginity Race” you took part in last year with your three crazy best friends. You lost your virginity, but still, no boyfriend, right?

All you wanted was to be at the top of your class, and you are on track to be salutatorian right now. Jimin has had the valedictorian spot guaranteed since the first day he started high school, taking high-level classes meant for juniors.

However, there was one man who poses a threat to your second spot among the top 10 honor students.

Daniel Yeonjun Choi.

Yet again another mention of this guy!

Despite your rivalry, you've formed an unexpected friendship with him, working successfully together on various school projects. There were a few times you would hang out after school with each other.. Well with some other mutual friends too.

Which is why… he is the best… and technically the only option you have.

To bring as a date.

“Daniel!” You call out to him as he walks out of the last period class you had together. He doesn’t turn around, distracted as he converses with Soobin and Mark, his close friends. But you know for a fact this boy can hear you.

You call out to him repeatedly, but no reaction. You’re annoyed.

So what do you do? Keep following behind him waiting for a perfect moment to snatch his attention fully. You probably look like a creep, but that’s fine.

You see him bid farewell to his two friends as he heads to his locker to put some books away. Now is your chance,

“Yeonjun!” And finally, he turns around, his eyes widen when you use his Korean name.

“Holy fuck, you caught me off guard with that L/N.” He scolds.

“And you didn’t hear me when I called out to you a thousand times before that?”

“No.” He smiles, which irks you, but you can’t let it be known. He finds this attractive, but you don’t know that yet. “What did you want?”

“You remember that one time I helped you out by telling you the answer to the Calculus pop quiz and that you said you’d owe me a favor.” You pout your lips out, hoping he takes pity on you and hears you out.

“...Ugh. Can we save that for another day? I got dance practice.”

No, you cannot! Time is ticking. You’re going to have to be blunt.

"No! Look, Choi, I need you to-"

The pleading in the moment sounds very desperate and exasperated which you hope doesn’t–

"Need me? Sounds kinda erotic." The taller boy chuckles, and your face scowls, turning a heavy shade of red.

Dammit, that’s exactly what I didn’t want it to sound like!

"Huh? That’s not…You're gross! As if I would EVER do anything trashy with you!" You cross your arms, feeling impatient. You look away from him, seeing some of the passing students. Jimin’s supposed to meet you near this building and should be here any minute from his last class across campus so you can both go home together. You don’t want to get caught doing this.

This isn't gonna work at this rate, and you don't have any more time for this.

"You know what, never mind. I don't even know why I bothered to think of asking you. I should've asked Mark instead." You turn around, deciding to walk away from the situation. Maybe you'll take the L! You'll go to Seokjin's dumb brother's wedding by yourself like the loser you are while everyone else has dates.

"Hey, wait!" Yeonjun pulls your arm toward him, making you turn back around. You are now face to face with each other, which makes you suddenly feel nervous. "Alright. Fine, Princess, I'm listening. What is it?" He looks at you, finally with sincerity in his eyes.

God, I guess if he actually wants to listen now, then you'll say it. What could go wrong?

You tiptoe and lean in close to his ear, catching Yeonjun slightly off guard. "Okay. so I need you to be my fake date to my friend's brother's wedding."

Yeonjun blinks repeated, processing the request. After realizing he was frozen, he immediately goes back to his usual expression and smirks. "Well, well, well. Looks like someone couldn't resist the charm of Choi Yeonjun after all."

You roll your eyes, "Hell no. Please, you can be there looking all pretty, but I'd rather dance with a cactus."

He raises an eyebrow, "You sure about that? Cacti can be quite prickly, you know."

You huff, "Just shut up and play along. I need you to act like a decent human being for one evening. You owe me anyways, remember?"

Yeonjun smirks again, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Decent human being? That's a stretch," he grins, clearly enjoying this. "But sure, why not? It's not every day someone gets to be in the presence of greatness."

You scoff, shaking your head, "Greatness? Please. Just don't embarrass me, okay?"

Yeonjun's grin widens, "No promises, sweetheart. But I'll do my best. After all, I owe you."

"Yeah, yeah. Just be ready to suffer through a night of pretending to like me," you retort with a wry smile.

"Oh, the sacrifices I make for you," he replies, sarcasm dripping from every word.

As you walk away, hoping to meet Jimin halfway you can't help but mutter under your breath, "This is gonna be a disaster."

Yeonjun's laughter follows you from a very short distance after overhearing you, "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea."

After Yeonjun agreed, you begin meeting with him regularly over the next two weeks leading up to the wedding. Your primary objective is to shop for outfits suitable for the event and to conduct some "etiquette" training. By "etiquette," you mean coaching him on how to handle questions from the guys or any of Seokjin's family members in a certain manner.

So this gives you guys a lot of time to get to know each other.

You learn that he prefers to be called Yeonjun, as Daniel just feels like a persona he puts up in school. You learn that he lives with his aunt, uncle, and younger cousin at the Woodbridge Apartment complex. His parents wanted him to grow up in the US, so they left him here in their care and just told him to get through school and come back to Korea when he graduates college. He says that’s one of the main factors that has kept him motivated to keep working hard and getting into a good college.

He gets to know you too. You tell him you live close to school, with your parents and younger sister for the majority of your life. You tell him about the business program you got into at a college where two of your best friends go. You tell him all your pet peeves, your likes and dislikes.

And he listens.

“Bought these on my way here.” Yeonjun handed you a white bag, a small smile playing on his lips as he stepped into your house . You accepted it with a curious glance and opened it up, revealing an array of pastries nestled inside.

"Bread?" you asked, slightly surprised.

"Yeah," Yeonjun replied. "I remember you mentioning that you were craving Tour Les Jours the other day. So, I got you a custard bun, a blueberry cream cheese bun—"

You interrupted him, incredulous. "Wait, you remembered that? I just blurted it out randomly in the middle of AP Lit a few days ago because I was hungry at the time. You really didn't have to get me anything."

"Nah, it was nothing," Yeonjun said casually, settling down comfortably on your living room couch. "I had gone to drop off Soobin at his house, so it was just a quick stop."

"Well, then, we can snack on it later," you replied with a smile, feeling touched by his thoughtful gesture. “So about the Seokjin’s brother…”

Things like that made your heart become a bit softer for him after all thus time.

During this time, Jimin was too busy with the girl he is seeing (a dancer, actually) or with dance practice sessions after school. So he didn’t know you were hanging out with Yeonjun instead.

But there were still days throughout the week that you would hang out.

You’re best friends after all.

The scent of freshly baked pastries envelops you as you sit across from Jimin amidst the cozy ambiance of his dad's bakery cafe. Textbooks and notes are spread out between you, but your mind is elsewhere, preoccupied with thoughts of the impending conversation.

Jimin glances up from his notes, furrowing his brows as he studies your slightly giddy expression. "Hey, Y/N," he begins tentatively, "Is everything okay? You've been acting kinda weird since that hangout at In-N-Out."

Despite him not knowing what you were doing, he could still feel tha something was different about you.

You feign innocence, offering a casual shrug. "Weird? I don't know what you're talking about, Jimin. I've just been busy with stuff."

But Jimin isn't convinced, his gaze probing as he leans in slightly. "Come on, Darling, I know when something's up. You can tell me."

You maintain your facade of nonchalance, avoiding his penetrating stare. "Honestly, Jimin, there's nothing to tell. Just stressed about exams, that's all!"

"Fine, okay, be that way. But don't think I'll stop trying to figure it out." He sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

You offer him a small smile, hoping to diffuse the tension. "I know you won't."

After a moment of silence, Jimin's curiosity continues. "So, about that wedding... Do you really have a date lined up?"

You pause momentarily from writing your final notes on a cheat sheet. "Yeah, I do," you reply casually. "You'll meet him soon."

Jimin's eyes widen with interest, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Oh, really? The Y/N who’s never had a boyfriend before got the courage to ask someone as their wedding date."

You offer him a playful shove, laughing softly. "Maybe the virginity competition last year changed me, but don't get too excited, Jimin. He's just a…friend."

In the back of your mind, you start to wonder otherwise.

Standing outside in your brown UO Samara Mesh Strapless Midi Dress, you nervously glance around, hoping to avoid any unwanted attention. Namjoon's absence offers you some temporary relief from your anxiety about being seen with Yeonjun. He stayed the night at Jin’s, so you’ll see him at the venue.

Suddenly, the sound of an engine draws your attention, and you turn to see Yeonjun's 1998 Red Subaru Impreza pulling up to the curb. It's not the first time you've laid eyes on his car, having been in it several times before when he’d give you a ride to your house or take you to his. But you can't help but admire the vintage charm it exudes every time you see it. It’s just so, Yeonjun.

As Yeonjun's gaze meets yours, he's momentarily struck silent, his eyes roaming over your dress. "Uh, ready for the show...sweetheart?" he finally manages to say.

A giggle escapes your lips as you saunter over to the car. "Oh, you know I was born ready." you tease, flashing him a playful grin as you slide into the passenger seat.

Feeling a rush of excitement and nerves, you hurry to find seats in the pews set up at the outdoor ceremonial venue at the country club, your fingers instinctively reaching out to grasp Yeonjun's wrists for support. As you settle into your chosen spot, you cast a quick glance around and realize that the place is packed to the brim with guests, the air humming with anticipation and excitement.

Your heart skips a beat slightly as you lock eyes with Namjoon across the crowded area. There's a flicker of recognition in his gaze, followed by a swift glance toward the person seated next to you—Yeonjun. His expression remains inscrutable as he studies the two of you, leaving you to wonder what thoughts are running through his mind.

A wave of uncertainty washes over you as Namjoon offers a hesitant wave in your direction. Beside him, Yoongi and Jimin turn to look at you and share a similar surprised, yet confused expression, their eyes briefly meeting yours before Jimin leans in to say something to Yoongi. You strain to catch a glimpse of their conversation, but the distance and the din of the crowd make it impossible to decipher.

A sense of unease settles in the pit of your stomach as you contemplate their reactions, a myriad of questions swirling in your mind. But with the ceremony about to begin, you push aside your apprehensions, focusing instead on Seokjin’s brother at the front with the priest, and his sister-in-law preparing to walk the aisle as the ceremony begins.

As you step into the wedding reception venue at Oak Creek Golf Club, you take a deep breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable introductions.

“You good, Princess?” Yeonjun says gently, reassuring you from your nerves. You look at him, your eyes softening, “Yeah, just a bit of nerves, but I’m ready to get this over with.”

With Yeonjun by your side, you navigate through the crowd until you join your group of friends sitting at a large round table.

After greeting, you clear your throat nervously and gesture towards Yeonjun. "This is my date," you announce, hoping to break the ice.

Yeonjun stands beside you, momentarily speechless as he takes in the sight of your guy best friends and the other males at the table. Sensing his hesitation, you shoot him a subtle elbow, prompting him to snap out of his daze.

"Ow," he mutters, before regaining his composure and extending a hand towards the others. "Uh, hi, I'm Daniel Choi, but you can call me Yeonjun. Nice to meet you guys," he manages, his tone a blend of nervousness and politeness.

As the guys' inquisitive gazes shift between you and Yeonjun, they waste no time in launching into their interrogation.

Jimin leans in, his eyes narrowed with curiosity. "Y/N, what's going on? How did you end up bringing Yeonjun as your date?" He’s not shying away from the elephant in the room.

Jimin has been familiar with Yeonjun for a long time. They both are dancers, though Jimin does it competitively at school (and won competitions), while Yeonjun is a well-known dancer at your hometown’s community dance studio. Makes sense they would have crossed paths because of dance mutuals after all. Jimin has also he heard you complain about him and his teasing the last couple of years. He never paid him too much attention, until now.

You offer a practiced smile, reciting the rehearsed response you've prepared. "Oh, well, Yeonjun and I have been friends for a while, and when I needed a date for the wedding, he kindly offered to accompany me."

Jimin is immediately smelling that something is fishy. In his mind, he knows that you hate Yeonjun. Well, hate seems to be a strong word. More like, you have differences with one another.

Namjoon furrows his brow, his expression skeptical. "Friends, huh? I’ve never heard you mention him being your friend before. Weren’t you guys rivals?"

Shit. You know Namjoon knew him from being in the student leadership with him during his junior year of high school. He also heard Yeonjun ranting about you getting higher grades than you.

You shrug casually, masking your unease. "Well, you know how it is. Sometimes friendships develop unexpectedly."

Yoongi leans back in his chair, eyeing Yeonjun with a hint of suspicion. "Okay, so Yeonjun, how did you and Y/N become friends so suddenly?"

Yeonjun clears his throat nervously, his eyes darting between the three men and the others at the table overhearing their conversation. "Uh, well, you probably heard we had classes together over the years. And mutual friends," he begins, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "And, uh, we just hit it off, I guess."

Jimin raises an eyebrow, his gaze probing. "That’s funny because last time I recall, we were the only ones who were Y/N’s friends.”

He is right, you’re not really close to anyone else.

But Yeonjun does not know how to respond to that. Though he’s close to saying something sassy right back. But he knows it would be disrespectful, and he doesn’t want to cause any drama. You wouldn’t want him to start something with your best friends either.

There’s a brief pause as the guys absorb the answers Yeonjun spouts out during this interrogative ordeal, exchanging glances with each other. Sensing the tension, you interject quickly. "Okay! Enough with that. So, how about we grab some drinks. It's a celebration, after all!"

With a subtle shift in focus, the conversation veers away from the interrogation, allowing you and Yeonjun a momentary reprieve from their scrutiny.

You link arms with Yeonjun, guiding him towards the bar where champagne floats are being served, eager for a temporary escape from the intense interrogation. You sneakily grab two, worried that someone will say something about two underage teens drinking, but no one notices. You think no one cares. You hand one to Yeonjun, who only takes a sip of it but puts it aside as he remembers he’s driving you home tonight.

As you sip on your drink, you can't help but shake your head in disbelief. "I didn't think they would go off like that... I've never seen them do that," you remark, baffled by their sudden intensity.

Yeonjun glances at you and your drink and chuckles softly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, looks like your friends are more protective than I thought. Guess I'll have to watch my back around them," he replies with a sassy smirk, his tone teasing yet lighthearted.

You can't help but laugh at his response, grateful for his ability to add some humor into the tense situation. If you were in his shoes, you would’ve left the moment they started questioning you. It’s not worth the hassle to make up a favor.

As you and Yeonjun return to the table, you finally notice Namjoon and Jimin's dates seated nearby and decide to seize the opportunity to meet them. With a friendly smile, you turn to Namjoon and Jimin, gesturing towards their dates. "Hey, mind introducing me to your lovely companions?" you inquire politely.

Namjoon and Jimin exchange knowing glances before obliging. "Uh yeah of course, Y/N," Namjoon replies, gesturing towards his date, wearing a long beige spaghetti-strapped dress. "This is Hyungseo."

"And this is Shuhua," Jimin adds, indicating his own companion wearing a navy blue satin mini dress.

You offer warm greetings to both Hyungseo and Shuhua, engaging them in conversation as you exchange pleasantries. Though, they both seem to be reluctant to talk to you and ignore your efforts. It leaves you feeling offended. You just met them and they’re being rude already. The guys take note of their behavior, but don’t say anything.

They’re lost causes, you think.

Turning to the rest of the group to continue your socializing, you notice Hoseok, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jin accompanied by their respective dates. Their dates are fortunately, kinder than the other girls. You make your rounds, introducing yourself to each of them and exchanging friendly banter.

However, you can't help but notice that Yoongi is sitting alone, without a date by his side. Sensing his discomfort, you offer him a smile, silently acknowledging his solitude.

"Hey, Yoongi, couldn't find a date to save your life, huh?" Hoseok teases with a playful grin.

Taehyung chimes in, nudging Yoongi gently. "Come on, man, what happened? Couldn't charm anyone into accompanying you tonight?"

Jungkook adds with a smirk, "Looks like it's just you and the dance floor tonight, hyung."

Even Jin comments on it as he returns to the table after having to go help his mom with something. "Well, well, well, looks like the most eligible bachelor at the table is flying solo tonight."

Despite the teasing, Yoongi takes it all in stride, offering a nonchalant shrug and a smirk of his own. "Hey, I don't need a date to have a good time. Besides, who needs the drama, right?"

Maybe he’s right. Did you really need to be doing all of this just to prove some point?

You continue your time, eating and conversing with your friends around you. The afternoon sunset changes to a night sky. Despite everyone having fun, drinking and celebrating, a part of you feels guilty for bringing Yeonjun as your “fake date”. You should’ve come by yourself or as Yoongi’s buddy. But you always feel the need to prove something, and feel dumb by the end of it.

The mood in your mind sombers, and you turn to Yeonjun and whisper in his ear.

"I'm going to step out for a bit. You can stay here."

Yeonjun's concerned gaze meets yours, his brows furrowing in worry. "Hey, hey, something wrong?" he asks softly.

"Just feeling overwhelmed with the partying environment," you reply, attempting to brush off your unease. "Don't worry about—"

But before you can finish, Yeonjun cuts in determinedly. "I'll go with you."

You offer him a grateful smile, touched by his unwavering support, as you both make your way towards the entrance of the outdoor reception area. Finding solace in the quietude outside, you settle onto a bench next to a tree adorned with twinkling lights, the gentle rustle of leaves providing a comforting backdrop to your thoughts.

As you sit together on the bench, the soft glow of the lights casting a serene ambiance around you, you can't shake the feeling of guilt that weighs heavily on your chest. With a sigh, you turn to Yeonjun, your voice tinged with regret.

"Yeonjun, I’m gonna be honest with you. I've been feeling terrible about dragging you into this whole charade as my date," you begin, your words hesitant yet sincere.

Yeonjun's gaze softens, his expression filled with understanding. "It's okay. You don't need to apologize," he reassures you gently.

But you shake your head, a pang of guilt twisting in your stomach. "No, you don't understand. I feel like I've wasted your time, made you endure all of this just to satisfy some silly notion of mine," you confess, your voice laced with self-reproach.

Yeonjun reaches out, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, listen to me. You didn't waste my time. I chose to be here and all those hang out sessions because I wanted to help you. I wanted to be by your side," he says earnestly.

You meet his gaze, feeling a surge of gratitude and warmth wash over you at his words. "But you shouldn't have had to endure all of this just for my sake," you protest softly.

Yeonjun smiles softly, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding. "Sometimes, we do things for the people we care about, even if it means stepping out of our comfort zone. And honestly, being here with you, even in this weird setup, has been worth it," he says, his voice filled with sincerity.

Touched by his unwavering support and understanding, you feel a lump form in your throat. "Thank you, Yeonjun. I really appreciate everything you've done for me," you say, your voice choked with emotion.

Yeonjun gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, his gaze filled with warmth and affection. "Anytime, Y/N. Remember, I'm here for you, no matter what," he says softly.

In the serene ambiance of the evening, with the soft glow of lights casting a mesmerizing spell, Yeonjun shifts nervously beside you, a playful glint dancing in his eyes as he finally gathers the courage to speak up.

"You know Y/N, there's something I've been thinking about lately," he begins, his voice laced with a hint of shyness yet buoyed by his characteristic sassiness. "We’ve been hanging out a lot lately, and I honestly feel like it’s changed a lot about how we behave around each other.”

Your curiosity piqued, you turn to him, prompting him to continue.

"What do you mean?" you inquire, your voice filled with genuine interest.

Yeonjun hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering with uncertainty before he continues, his words tinged with a vulnerability that catches you off guard.

"I know I did this as a favor, but I liked hanging out with you a lot," he confesses, his tone sincere. "Getting to know you. Seeing you more often."

A warmth spreads through your chest at his admission, and you find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his.

"Well I... I feel the same way," you admit softly, your heart racing with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. "Spending time with you has been... different. In a good way."

For a moment, silence envelops you both, the tranquility of the night amplifying your heart beating fast. You find yourself lost in thought. What would happen if you started to like Yeonjun? Would it even be possible to be together? You feel crazy for thinking this. Your freshmen year self would kill you for having this thought.

Maybe this is all just in your head. It’s too late to start something just as you’re about to graduate high school and go your separate ways.

But before you can gather your thoughts, Yeonjun's voice breaks the silence, his tone laced with a vulnerability that tugs at your heartstrings.

"I don't want this to end, Y/N," he confesses, his words tinged with sincerity. "I don't want to go back to how things were before. I actually think I’ve fallen in love with you."

What?

He also had similar thoughts as you?

You can't believe this. This is insane. I mean, you knew you were getting closer, but you never thought... you never thought he'd feel the same way.

This is like something straight out of a movie. A rivals to lovers fic from Wattpad. Your mind is going a million miles an hour right now. What do you do now? It's like the whole world just shifted beneath your feet.

But when you look into Yeonjun's eyes, you can see the sincerity there. It's kind of overwhelming. This was definitely not part of the plan when you set out to do this. I mean, how do you even deal with something like this? You’ve never dated anyone. But at the same time, there's a part of you that's curious, that's intrigued by the possibility of trying it. You’re 18 now, you studied hard and deserve to be in love.

This could change things for you.

But it’s not something you ever expected to happen in your life. Especially with Yeonjun.

As you grapple with the emotions swirling within you, you find yourself hesitantly voicing your doubts to Yeonjun.

"Yeonjun…I feel the same way but it just feels like... like it's too late." you murmur, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "If this happened way before graduation, things would’ve easier, but we’re just about to start college–"

But before you can continue, Yeonjun reaches out, gently taking your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring.

"It's okay, Y/N," he says softly, his eyes meeting yours with a steadfast determination. "I understand that things are different now, but I'm willing to try. I still have the rest of summer with you, and our colleges are somewhat close to each other. We can make it work."

His words wash over you like a soothing balm, calming the storm of uncertainty raging within your mind. Despite your fears and reservations, there's a part of you that's drawn to the possibility of exploring this newfound thing with Yeonjun, and stepping into something completely new in your life. A relationship.

As you gaze into his eyes, you realize that perhaps, just perhaps, this unexpected turn of events could be the beginning of something beautiful. Before you can dwell further on this realization, Yeonjun leans in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. At first, it's gentle, tentative, as if both of you are testing the waters. But soon, the kiss deepens, passion igniting between you as you lose yourselves in the moment.

Time seems to stand still as you both surrender to the intoxicating sensation of each other's touch. But eventually, you both mutually let go, the need for air becoming too urgent to ignore. With a shared understanding, Yeonjun suggests getting out of there, and you readily agree.

Taking control, Yeonjun grasps your hand firmly in his, leading the way as you rush away to his parked car. As you hurry along, you can't help but glance back at the entrance. You didn’t get to say bye to the guys and the bride and groom. But when you catch a glimpse of Namjoon and Yoongi witnessing your hasty departure with Yeonjun, your heart drops.

Oh shit.

Despite your immediate worries of your two best friends seeing all of that, you push it away once you arrive to Yeonjun’s apartment.

The darkness envelops you as you step inside, the silence punctuated only by the sound of your breathing. Yeonjun explains that his cousin, aunt, and uncle are out of town for the weekend, leaving the apartment empty for the first time ever.

You can't help but tease him, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "Did you plan this, Yeonjun?" you quip, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Yeonjun responds with a smirk of his own, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Well, Y/N, I’m not supposed to kiss and tell," he retorts in a sassy tone, his playful banter sending a shiver down your spine.

With a coy smile, he takes your hand and leads you to his room, the tension between you palpable. He takes off his tuxedo jacket, placing it on his chair. As he pushes you gently onto the bed and gets on top of you, the rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, mingling with the electrifying sensation of his touch.

In that moment, as you lie together in the dimly lit room, the world fades away, leaving only the two of you lost in the intoxicating embrace of the night. You realize that perhaps, just perhaps, this is where you were meant to be all along.

“Are you sure about this though?” he asks you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips which are soon moving down to your jaw and neck. “If you don’t feel the same, we can end this. I’ll take you home sweetheart.” He leans into your ear.

You can’t hold back the whimper from the sensation his whispers give you. His hands pushes your dress out of the way, bunching around your waist and his long fingers dig into the skin of your ass.

“I think I made it clear I want this just as much as you,” you whisper back, pushing your hands under his collared shirt. You can’t help but marvel at the abs he has hidden under, muscles flexing beneath your palms. Yeonjun takes this time to undo his tie and unbutton his shirt, fully revealing his torso to you.

Fuck, you’ve only seen this in his swim meet photos from last year, but never in person, and especially not like this.

“I want to see you naked too,” He grins pulling his hands away from your ass for a minute, pulling the zipper of the dress down and carefully sliding the strapless garment off you. You can’t suppress the shiver as the cooling air hits your heated skin, you feel like you’re blushing all over knowing he’s looking at you again.

“No bra? Fuck, you’re crazy,” Yeonjun groans dropping his face to your heaving chest, dragging his teeth and tongue over the swell of your breasts.

You grip the back of his head, fingers digging into his black hair as your other hand pushes between the two of you slightly awkwardly, popping the button of his slacks and tugging down his zipper. Pulling your hands away gently, Yeonjun moves down your body.

“What’re you doing?” you ask breathlessly, trying to pull him back up but he shakes his head, a beautiful but dangerous smirk tugging at his lips.

Hooking his fingers in the sides of your black lace thong, he tugs them down your legs and removes them. You watch with wide eyes as he tucks them in his back pocket.

“Uh?! Y-Yeonjun?”

“Call it a thank you for tonight. I survived your friends sending me daggers through the whole day, after all.” He winks up at you as he starts kissing and nipping his way up your inner thighs.

“H-Hey they so didn’t do that! G-Give them back to me or–” Your threat dies in your throat as Yeonjun pulls your leg over one of his shoulders. You can’t take your eyes off of him, his darkened eyes look up at you. It’s a lie if you say you never once thought about this sight. It was a nightmare for you at some point, but now, it’s reality. A good reality.

Yeonjun groans into you as his thick tongue drags through your wet folds, moving from your entrance to your throbbing clit and back again. Your body squirms as you grab his hair, feeling yourself sinking further and further into his bed as you roll your hips down into his face. Yeonjun growls as he sucks your clit between his plump lips. With one arm across your waist holding you still, the other moves between your leg. His two long fingers pushes into you, causing your back to arch, in an attempt to get closer to him.

In this moonlight shining through his room, his arms looked bigger than you remembered. Despite his tall and lanky-looking body, he’s definitely stronger than you previously thought.

“F-Fuck Junnie!” you cry out, saying a new nickname for him in the process. The feeling is so intense as he starts thrusting his fingers into you, switching between scissoring and curling them against that sweet spot inside making your thighs shake.

Yeonjun groans once again as he feels your pussy starting to tighten around his fingers. He continues with faster movements, his tongue starting to flick back and forth over your sensitive bundle of nerves still trapped between his pouty lips.

Pulling away briefly, his tongue runs around his fingers pumping in and out of you. Your mind is beginning to get hazy. You’re so close, that you can feel the edge approaching.

“Tastes better than honey,” he groans low in his chest before sealing his lips back around your clit with renewed vigor, his tongue moving in time with his fingers.

“H-How the fuck are you so g-good at this?” You whimper as his fingers start digging into your hip, “So close, gonna c-come…. f-fuck!” You cry out as you feel the band holding your sanity together inside you snap, your pussy spasming around Yeonjun’s fingers as he works you through your orgasm. He moans around your clit, pushing vibrations through your body as you cling to his hair for dear life.

When you finally feel your body calm down, Yeonjun gently removes his fingers. He looks up at you with a smug look on his face. He’s teasing you. God, you can’t believe he just pulled an orgasm out of you. What the fuck.

Also, why does he know how to do this so well? How many girls has he been with?

“I can’t believe you’re teasing me because you made me cum,” You roll your eyes at him.

He climbs up your body once again and pulls you into a rough, but chaste kiss. It feels gross at first, but somehow intoxicating. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue, yet it turns you on more than you thought it would.

“You ain’t seen anything yet, Princess,”

“Oh is that right? Show me what you’ve got then,” you smirk as your hand trails down his body, meeting his eyes when your hand pushes into his boxers. Yeonjun softly groans when your small hand wraps around his thick aching cock, tugging down his slacks and boxers until they’re around his knees. You start to pump his cock in your hand, loving the way his breathing picks up as his hands hold onto your hips. You feel so much power from doing this.

He leans over quickly to grab a condom from his bedside table and starts sliding it on until it fully encapsulates his dick.

“Are you ready?” Yeonjun asks through a moan as you pull him closer, hooking your leg over his hip. His thick cock brushes through your slick pussy, and with every roll of his hips, the tip of his cock nudges your clit.

“Yes please just do it already,” You say urgently, which makes him chuckle. His hand wraps around his cock as he eases inside of you very slowly. His other hands roughly grabs your ass as you cry out against his lips.

“Holy shit, Yeonjun…Fuck”

“God, you’re tight, can’t wait to fuckin’ ruin you,” He groans when your pussy clenches around him. He can’t take it anymore, you practically scream his name as he snaps his hips forward, neighbors be damned. Both of you cling to each other as he waits for you to adjust to his size. His lips press to your ear, his breathing ragged as he speaks.

“You’re only gonna want me now, sweetheart and I’ll make sure of it.”

Your nails drag down his back creating angry red lines against his soft skin. You nod your head slightly foggy, filled with just Yeonjun.

“Do it! Please, move. I’m yours,” you breathe against his lips, your sweaty forehead up against his.

“Love the sound of you being so eager, ” Yeonjun grunts as he thrusts his hips up roughly, causing you to cry out into his open mouth. His hands feel like they’re everywhere as his hips start thrusting up into you wildly, the snap of his hips slapping loudly against your skin. You can feel every inch of his cock, as his lips tongue and teeth explore your neck, sucking dark purple marks into your skin. Cupping your breasts roughly, his plump lips seal around a hardened nipple. His warm mouth feels so amazing against you while you feel your pussy clamping down around his cock for the first time.

You haven’t had sex since you lost your virginity to Wonwoo, and this being your second time feels so amazing.

“Hold it,” Yeonjun grunts pulling you back from the brink of cumming. You stare at him with your lustful bedroom eyes and mouth dropping open as he fucks into you harder than before.

“I-I can’t!”

“Yes, you can. I’m gonna pull out in a minute and I wanna see you bounce on my cock.” The way he growls those words against your neck makes you whine, desperate for release you know you’re not allowed. Fuck, the horny and desperate hormones are taking over the both of you.

Yeonjun pulls out after another hard thrust that makes your legs weak, stumbling away from you. He grins like a cheshire cat when you glare at him. Laying down awkwardly next to you, he starts pumping his cock in his hand as he watches you crawl towards him. Your back aches and stings, much like the rest of your body in the best way, but all you can focus on is Yeonjun.

To his surprise you turn your back to him, getting to your knees and straddle his hips and thighs. With your hands resting on his thick thighs, you lean your ass back, moaning as he teases the tip of his cock against your entrance. It slips inside you with not much difficulty and you can’t help but push back into him. You slowly lower yourself, letting your tight wet heat envelope him, until your ass is pressed against his groin and lower stomach.

“D-Didn’t know you have a thing for my ass,” You tease.

Yeonjun growls low in his throat, squeezing your ass roughly as you lift almost off his cock before dropping back down.

“Not such a good girl after all are you?” He questions roughly as you start a steady rhythm of rising and falling on his cock, nails digging into his thighs.

You pause to roll your hips over him, loving the way your clit rubs against him.

“N-No, it was a persona for me too,” you cry out as he slaps your ass hard, quickly followed by another harsh slap to your other cheek.

“Y/N, you’re so hot,” Yeonjun groans as you start bouncing again. He feels your pussy beginning to clench again as your slick leaks down his shaft and balls. You hold on when you start to feel him bucking his hips up into you. “Don’t stop, let go Princess,” Yeonjun says roughly catching his bottom lip between his teeth.

Pushing a hand between your legs, you rub harsh circles into your clit. Your throat is hoarse from shouting out his name. Your eyes squeeze tightly shut as Yeonjun thrusts up hard, and you cry out as you come, clinging to him wherever you can.

You’ve barely come down from your euphoric high when Yeonjun eases you up, a rough bruising grip on your hips. He takes control guiding you up and down his length until he finally comes with a moaning whimper of your name falling from his lips.

You're panting hard when Yeonjun finally pulls out slowly, helping you lay down next to him gently.

“Fuck, I love you” Yeonjun whispers aggressively as he goes in to kiss you, his arms wrapping around you. It takes a while for those words to sink in because you’re still in disbelief. When he pulls away he’s surprised to find you frowning.

“You okay?” he asks worriedly, his fingers brushing over the slowly forming bruises on your body. “Was I too rough,” he swallows hard, meeting your eyes. You shake your head.

“You mean you love me as a friend right?” you question nervously, just wanting to confirm that he actually isn’t playing with your heart.

You heard rumors that he kinda does this thing with a select few girls for fun. So you want to make sure if he is actually on the same wavelength as you.

“That’s what’s wrong?” He asks with a smile shaking his head and kissing you again. He grabs a blanket to cover your body with for warmth.

You nod looking down at your fingers which are now linked with his.

“If it bothers you, Y/N, then yeah I can pretend I meant as friends but no. I meant it when I said I fell in love with you. I wish we could’ve done this sooner, but at least I didn’t wait any longer,” he chuckles, the blush on his cheeks brightening the more he speaks. “But it’s totally fine if you wanna chalk this up to–” You cover his mouth with your hand shaking your head.

You pull his lips to yours with tears in your eyes, feeling him smile into the kiss as a sigh of relief leaves his chest. “I’ve start to fall in love with you too, if it wasn’t obvious the last couple of weeks we started talking more. I was so used to you being a flirty nerd, but this was very unexpected. I’m still speechless,” you giggle watching the smirk slip onto his plump lips.

“Funny how you said you’re never do anything trashy with me and look at us now,” he promises you as he gets up to discard the used up condom in the trash bin next to his bed.

You roll your eyes at him, “Shut up! Things change!”

They really do.

The next morning, Yeonjun drops you off at your home. Well, he drops you off at the street corner so you wouldn’t appear too suspicious.

“I know you gotta study for finals this week before graduation on Saturday, so I won’t bother you. But text me if you need me.”

You nod, a warm smile tugging at your lips as you look at Yeonjun. "Thanks, Yeonjun. I appreciate it," you say softly, your heart feeling lighter knowing he's there for you now as someone more than a rival, more than a friend.

Yeonjun returns your smile, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. "Anytime, Y/N. I'll be waiting for your call," he replies, his voice tinged with sincerity.

As you step out of the car and onto the sidewalk, you turn back to wave at Yeonjun, watching as he drives away.

When enter your house, your very nosey mother folding laundry in the living room asks you about the wedding and where you stayed the night, you tell her you stayed with Kyeongmin, Namjoon’s younger sister. Before she can ask you anything else, you tell her you’re going to rest up and study for your finals in your room.

Once safely in your room, you let out a sigh of relief, grateful to have dodged your mother's interrogation. But as you glance at your phone, you see messages from Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin, all undoubtedly asking about last night's events.

Shit. It seems like you have some explaining to do.

You open Namjoon's message, feeling a pang of guilt as you read his words.

Namjoonie [Saturday 12:01AM]: Hey, tiny! Sorry about making you uncomfortable by interrogating you and Yeonjun. Are you really dating him?

You take a deep breath before composing your response.

You [Sunday 8:11AM]: “Hey, Joon! Yeah… I'm with Yeonjun…

You [Sunday 8:12AM]: It’s a long story. Let’s talk more after finals and grad are done? You’re going on Saturday, right?

You weren’t expecting him to be up at this hour, but when he responds not long after you send your text out, you wonder what happened after he left.

Namjoon [Sunday 8:12AM]: Wouldn’t miss it for the world :)

Namjoon has always been overprotective over you, but surprisingly, he’s being patient right now. Maybe the year in college has changed him. A part of you kinda hoped he’d react differently.

You responded to the rest of the guys similarly, and also receive responses that oddly disappoint you a bit.

June 3rd, 20XX [Saturday]

Finals week goes by in a flash. You pass all your finals with flying colors, and before you know it, it's Saturday morning. The graduation ceremony is at 4PM, but you're at the school gym at the crack ass of dawn to practice sitting in assigned seats and walking for the ceremony at the football field later. With your status as Salutatorian, you end up getting placed in the very front, along with Jimin who is the Valedictorian and Yeonjun who sits in the 3rd spot. The rest of the spots are filled by Daisy, Mark, Soobin, Denise, Stephan, Felix, and Kevin.

"It's really happening," you say out loud to no one in particular, but Jimin and Yeonjun look at you.

Jimin offers you a reassuring smile. "Yeah, it is. Can you believe it?"

Yeonjun chimes in, his usual playful smirk adorning his lips. "Well, I mean, look at us, top of the class and all."

Jimin eyes him suspiciously. It’s unlike Yeonjun to just butt into a conversation with you and Jimin like that. You’re afraid Jimin’s going to pounce on him, especially after likely hearing about what you two did at the wedding from your other best friends.

You chuckle nervously, attempting to redirect Jimin’s focus from him. "Well I barely secured this spot. Thank God you got an A- in AP Calculus,"

Jimin laughs a little too hard at your comment, and Yeonjun rolls his eyes playfully. "Hey, we’re all going to college and that’s what matters," he says, flashing a grin.

You nod, feeling a sense of camaraderie with your friends. "Yeah, we are."

As the morning progresses, you go through the motions of the graduation rehearsal, listening to the instructions from the faculty and practicing your entrance and exit. After an hour and thirty minutes of practicing, you’re all free to head home and get ready.

"I'll give you a ride," Yeonjun suggests to you casually, however Jimin suddenly grabs your wrist.

"Nope, I'm taking her!" Jimin chimes in. "See ya!"

"H-Hey! Wait!" You protest, but Jimin drags you away to his used black porsche parked in the student parking lot.

You stumble slightly as Jimin pulls you along, caught off guard by his sudden decision. "Jimin, what's going on?" you ask, trying to keep up with his brisk pace.

"Nothing.” He groans, “Just want to take you to my place to get ready with me for graduation. We'll drop by your house to get your stuff."

You're taken aback by Jimin's sudden assertiveness but decide to go along with it, intrigued by what he has planned. "Uhh right! Sounds good?" you reply, trying to keep up with his energetic pace.

Jimin unlocks his car, and you slide into the passenger seat beside him. The engine roars to life, and you two exit campus, leaving Yeonjun there as he left with a puzzled expression. What Jimin did would be considered war against Yeonjun. But yet again, you didn’t realize this at the time.

The sun beats down on the football field, casting a warm glow over the sea of graduates seated in neat rows. As you sit among your classmates, adorned in your purple cap and gown, you can't help but feel a surge of nerves coursing through you. The anticipation builds as you anxiously await your turn to present your short speech as the Salutatorian of your class.

The field is alive with the buzz of excitement and anticipation, friends and family members filling the stands to witness this momentous occasion. The scent of freshly cut grass mingles with the faint aroma of flowers carried on the breeze, creating an atmosphere of celebration and achievement.

Your eyes scan the crowd, searching for familiar faces among the sea of spectators. You catch sight of your parents and sister sitting in the middle row, and then see Yoongi, Namjoon, Jin, Hoseok, Jungkook and Taehyung sitting right in front of them, holding flowers and balloons. Their proud smiles warming your heart and easing some of your nerves.

Suddenly, your attention is drawn to the stage where Jimin stands, delivering his graduation speech with eloquence and passion. His words resonate with the audience, his voice carrying across the field as he imparts words of wisdom and reflection on the journey ahead.

As Jimin concludes his speech to thunderous applause, you feel a mixture of pride and apprehension. It's your turn now, and you rise to your feet, your heart pounding in your chest as you make your way to the podium.

Taking a deep breath, you begin to speak, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. You don’t remember what you said, but you did deliver your speech with poise and confidence, sharing words of gratitude and inspiration with your fellow graduates. And it was well received, so that’s all that matters.

As the ceremony draws to a close and the last diploma is handed out, the graduates are instructed to move their tassels from the right side of their caps to the left—a symbolic gesture marking their transition from students to graduates.

With a collective movement, the sea of caps is adorned with a new arrangement of tassels, signifying the culmination of years of hard work and dedication. The air is filled with the sound of cheers and applause from family and friends, along with the joyful noise of celebratory horns and whistles.

As your eyes scan the crowd, you spot your guy best friends rushing to the field to meet you and Jimin. With wide grins plastered across their faces, they weave through the throngs of people, their excitement palpable in the air.

Yoongi is the first to reach you in a rush, his trademark smirk firmly in place. "Well, well, look who's finally a high school graduate," he teases, clapping a hand on your shoulder.

Namjoon follows closely behind, his eyes sparkling with pride. "Congrats you two! You actually made it!" he exclaims, enveloping you and Jimin in a tight hug.

“With honors, too. You two are insane. Congrats you nerds!” Jin teased. “It’s called being competitive! And of course we were gonna graduate. We may have been gaming at times, but we still did our shit.” Jimin exclaimed, rolling his eyes.

Hoseok jumps in with his signature peppiness, practically bouncing on his toes. "Hey, I believed y’all could do it! Now, let's party!" he cheers, his enthusiasm infectious.

Taehyung joins the group with a mischievous grin, already planning the festivities. "Hey, hey, Jungkook and I’s high school graduation isn’t until 7 PM. We can't party yet," he interjects, his eyes still twinkling with anticipation despite the delay.

You smile at Taehyung's words, nodding in agreement. "Don’t worry. Jimin and I will definitely swing by your graduation and then we’ll party," you assure him, feeling the excitement building up again. The group chuckles, the prospect of double celebrations lifting their spirits even more.

As you bask in the joyous atmosphere, a pang of sadness washes over you as you remember Yeonjun. You quickly turn around to scan the crowd for him, but he's nowhere to be seen. Before you can dwell on it further, you're called out by your parents and surrounded by friends and teachers eager to congratulate you and bid you farewell. The momentary worry about Yeonjun is pushed aside as you immerse yourself in the festivities.

June 4th, 20XX [Sunday]

Despite the fact that you couldn't see him after the ceremony, Yeonjun shows up at your house the next morning.

Your mom and sister are heavily caught off guard when they open the door because they've never seen him in their lives. Your sister rushes up stairs to wakes you from your slumber.

“Y/N! You need to go downstairs because there’s a pretty boy outside waiting for you with flowers!” She yells at you while removing your blankets.

You groggily rub your eyes as your sister's words register in your mind. "A pretty boy with flowers?" you mumble, still half asleep. For some reason, the thought of it being Yeonjun doesn’t click in your head. The first guy that comes to mind is Namjoon, but that wouldn’t make sense.

"Yeah, I've never seen him before," your sister replies with a curious expression. "He's, like, really handsome."

The fact that she’s never seen him before tells you otherwise.

Curiosity piqued, you quickly throw on a hoodie over your pajamas and rush downstairs to see who could possibly be waiting for you at your doorstep. As you descend the stairs, you hear the muffled voices of your mom and sister conversing with someone.

When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you freeze in surprise at the sight of Yeonjun standing in your foyer, holding a bouquet of flowers. Your mom and sister look equally bewildered by his presence.

"Yeonjun?" you exclaim, blinking in disbelief.

"Hey," Yeonjun greets you with a sheepish smile, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. "I, uh, hope it's okay that I came over. I wanted to see you."

Your mom and sister exchange incredulous glances before your sister nudges you playfully. "Go on, Y/N, talk to your mysterious visitor," she whispers with a mischievous grin.

You shoot her a grateful, yet awkward smile before turning back to Yeonjun. "Yeah, of course it's okay. I'm just... surprised to see you here."

Yeonjun scratches the back of his neck nervously, his expression sheepish. "Yeah, uh, I wanted to apologize for disappearing after graduation. I got caught up with my friends and family… and I felt bad for not seeing you, so I wanted to make it up to you by taking you out for breakfast."

You raise an eyebrow, slightly surprised by his sudden appearance but also relieved. "Really? Well, I could definitely go for some breakfast right now," you say with a smile, feeling the tension ease between you.

"Get changed and we'll grab pancakes from Stacks. My treat," Yeonjun suggests with a grin.

Your eyes light up with excitement. "Bet! Just give me a sec to get ready," you reply, dashing upstairs to freshen up and swap your pajamas for a band t-shirt tucked into your med-wash jeans before heading out for breakfast.

You spent the morning talking with Yeonjun and eating breakfast before he took you back home. You talked to him about things you want to do over the summer with you and things of that sort. It felt so weird to finally be in a relationship. You didn’t think it would happen, let alone with someone you used to call your rival. He wanted to spend more time with you, but you told him you had to meet with Jimin to help Yoongi and Namjoon pack up and move out for the summer.

You also told him that you were going to let them know about your relationship with him, which he was fine with.

Jimin came to pick you up not long after and he drove to their college, which would soon become the same place you’ll be going to 2.5 months from now.

“Congrats on whatever you and Yeonjun have.” Jimin said once you got in the car.

“Did Namjoon and Yoongi tell you?”

“Briefly, but there’s a few little birds in the dance community saying that Yeonjun was talking about you. Obviously don’t know all the details so you better tell me.” He eyes you for a second before looking back on the road.

“Obviously, you’re my best friend after all.” You say, and then proceed to tell him how this all started, where you are now, your fears, your excitement.

Jimin only nodded in response and smiled at your enthusiasm. But his smile hid a bit of sadness behind it. Though yet again, you didn’t realize the full extent about that at this time.

When you both arrived at the campus, You noticed Namjoon and Yoongi were already waiting for you outside of the dorm building with a good chunk of their stuff, cardboard boxes piled up as tall as them. Though, you think that there’s still more of it inside their dorm. Jimin parked the car in the dorm parking lot and got out to start loading the boxes in his car.

“Seokjin’s going to use his dad’s truck to help us pack some of the stuff that won’t fit in Jimin’s car. We’re waiting for him too.” Namjoon commented as he walked toward your window and leaned against it.

“Good to know! I was telling him earlier that most of this shit won’t fit in his small ass sports car.” You joked, which made Namjoon chuckle at your jab towards Jimin.

There was a pregnant pause after when you realized you hadn’t really talked this casually with Namjoon since the wedding. From the look in his eyes you realize that he also immediately had this thought as well.

You had talked to him last night at your graduation, but it was mainly celebratory exchanges and nothing directly related to your personal circumstances outside of that. He remained mostly around Hoseok’s side last night at the group grad party as he taught Namjoon about djaying.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” You begin as you break the silence, opening the car door to get out and shake your legs from the discomfort of sitting down for an hour. “Things happened pretty suddenly and quickly. There wasn’t really much time to bring it up—”

“It’s okay, Tiny.” Namjoon cut you off, knowing you were about to go on an apology tangent. He knows you do that whenever you feel really bad about something. “We’re all grown up. We’re bound to get into relationships. So don’t worry about it,” Namjoon smiled, however, his seemed more genuine than Jimins’. You’re not sure what this means… You expected more push and pull from him, but he’s being more understanding than you anticipated.

Yoongi tells the both of you to come inside the building so you can help him bring the last of the boxes out of their dorm. When you get to their room, Namjoon continues his thoughts.

“As long as Yeonjun doesn’t break your heart. I’m cool with him, I guess.” He carefully words out, seemingly trying to convince himself about that last sentence.

Yoongi catches chase of what Namjoon is talking about and nods, “I agree with that. If you’re happy, then we’re happy. It’s important to support each other. We’re best friends after all.”

“Right, but you better not leave us behind or start ignoring us for your boyfriend, alright?” Namjoon boops your nose with his index finger before hoisting up 3 big boxes in his arm, making you flustered. Looking at his arm strength has made you question if he’s gotten more buff recently.

“Obviously. You’re my best friends! No matter what, I’d never be an ass to you guys just because I have a boyfriend.” you spoke so matter-of-factly to them, like even the thought of you betraying them was pure blasphemy. You wouldn’t do that to them. You’ve known them for years, and have shed blood, sweat, and tears together. “You’re always one of my top priorities.”

There was a glow on their faces from simply hearing those words from you. You didn’t know the implications of that change of complexion. You were just being honest.

But you didn’t have any idea how much these words would haunt you later on.

The first month or so of dating Yeonjun has felt like a dream.

A long awaited dream that you’ve had for so long. After graduating, you didn’t have much to do for the next three months you’re still in town. During the summer, you’d usually work a seasonal shift at a cafe near your local community college, but they were cutting costs and hiring less staff than usual. Jimin’s dad offered you a job at his bakery instead, which you decided to take, much to Jimin’s dismay. You assumed it’s because he didn’t want his dad to work you to the bone, which you didn’t mind. You wanted to have some extra cash to pay for college, as well as your outings with Yeonjun.

Yeonjun didn’t seem opposed to it either. Well, that’s what you thought at the time. Right before your shifts ended, Yeonjun would come by, get an injeolmi toast or an Iced Americano and then pick you up from work when your shift ended. It was a little embarrassing that Mr. Park would see him come by often. He’d even start to question you about the boy. At some point, he began conversations with him, asking him if he’s Korean, what school does he go to, what his parents do, etc. Jimin’s dad found him interesting, and would tease Jimin to “be more like Yeonjun”.

“Be more like Yeonjun?” Jimin scoffed, but didn’t continue his thought after looking at you and then looking away to continue with his task.

After he’d pick you up, you’d go on dates. Sometimes, you’d have a picnic at the lake or walk around the mall and talk about work, your parents, and your best friends with him. Other times, you’d come over to his apartment and help his aunt and cousin make mandu. When you were lucky, the apartment would be empty and you’d take the time to have sex with Yeonjun in his room.

Once, you tried to do the same thing and invite him to your place for sex. Your parents and sister had gone 2 cities over to shop at a bigger mall, so you didn’t miss the chance to text Yeonjun to come over. You were nervous the whole time, fearing that your parents could come home sooner than expected or sometimes even worse, Namjoon or his family would notice that Yeonjun came over. But your horny self pushed those thoughts away and let it happen.

Losing your sanity slowly for this man. But other thoughts remained on the back of your mind.

July 4th, 20XX [Tuesday]

The afternoon sun was already high, casting a warm glow over the town as you called up Yeonjun to see if he wanted to join you at Hoseok's barbecue pool party. He had invited you and your best friends a last week, but you wanted your boyfriend to come along as well. It would help him get more familiar with your friend group and maybe your friends.

Yeonjun said he’s be down and confirmed that he would drive. Namjoon and Yoongi texted you not long after your call ended asking if they could get a ride from you since they were planning to drink at the party. Out of habit, you agreed, but then realized you fucked up.

When Yeonjun’s car pulled up to your front curb, there was a brief moment of reluctance as he saw Namjoon and Yoongi waiting with you. "Hey…didn't know we'd have a full car," Yeonjun said, trying to keep his tone light.

"I’m so sorry about that," you replied, sensing a bit of tension. "But they need a ride! And we’re going to the same place so it'll be fun!"

Namjoon and Yoongi exchanged glances, also hesitant but willing to go along. "As long as we get there," Yoongi muttered, sliding into the back seat, followed by a silent Namjoon.

You climbed into the passenger seat, buckling in while feeling the weight of the unspoken tension in the car. Yeonjun's usual playful demeanor was slightly subdued as he started driving, and the ride to Hoseok's house was filled with polite conversation and forced laughter, rather than the easy banter you were used to. You wore a black bikini, but covered it up with an orange Hawaiian shirt and short shorts. Despite the cover-up, your cleavage was noticeable, and you couldn't help but feel the eyes of Yeonjun, Namjoon, and Yoongi lingering on you throughout the ride when you’d turn to talk to them.

Upon arriving, Hoseok's backyard was already buzzing with commotion. The smell of grilled meats and the sound of upbeat music filled the air. Hoseok, busy DJ-ing, was nodding to the beat of the music ashis hands deftly adjusted the controls. His parents and sister were in Korea for the month, so he had the house to himself, which meant the party was full of his college friends and alcohol, adding to the lively atmosphere.

Jungkook was the first to greet you, his smile wide and welcoming. "Hey! You’re here!" he exclaimed, pulling you into a quick hug.

“Of course! Would never miss Hoseok’s party!” you replied, feeling the party’s energy start to lift your spirits.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jin soon followed, each offering their own warm greetings. “Looking good,” Taehyung said, eyeing your outfit with a grin.

"You’re playing with fire Tae, but thanks," you replied, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks as you noticed him and the others sneaking glances at your attire.

Jimin laughed, clapping Yeonjun on the back. "Nice of you to bring our girl here safely."

"Our–?” Yeonjun said out loud without realizing, before he corrected himself. “Uh well, yeah, anything for her," Yeonjun said, his tone sounded off, but you didn’t try to think much of it.

The backyard was a lively scene, reminiscent of a typical college Fourth of July party. Brightly colored pool floats bobbed on the surface of the pool, people splashing and playing in the water. Tables were laden with a variety of foods: burgers, hot dogs, assorted fruits, and bowls of chips. Red, white, and blue decorations were everywhere, from streamers hanging from the porch to patriotic-themed tablecloths. Jungkook said he and Taehyung did most of the decor work.

People milled about, chatting, laughing, and dancing to the music Hoseok was mixing. Solo cups filled with various drinks were scattered around, and a beer pong table was set up near the garage, already attracting a competitive crowd.

"Grab a plate, y’all!" Taehyung called, waving you over to the food table.

As you approached, you noticed Yoongi and Namjoon heading straight for the grill, where Jin had gone back to. They started joking around with Jin, who was manning the grill, and soon the three of them were engaged in a playful banter about how Jin is so dad-like at times. Jin offered them some cold beers and they cracked them open.

Meanwhile, you filled your plate with a burger and some snacks and found a spot under a large umbrella with Yeonjun. He sat close enough that your knees touched under the table, and you could feel his gaze linger on you from time to time, sending shivers down your spine despite the warm summer air.

Sometimes, you wondered how Yeonjun felt being brought into this whole new world of yours. You were used to him hanging out with Soobin and Mark, and some of his other boys you realize you hadn’t met. And girls too. People from his dance community. You would like him to become friends with your friends, but does he feel uncomfortable here? You honestly don’t know deeply of his dating history to gauge how things must’ve been in the past for him. You turned to look at him, typing away on his phone.

“How are you liking the party?” You ask him, words leaving your mouth slowly. “It’s great.” He says simply, which makes you internally sigh in relief. “You truly have an interesting friend group, Princess.” He chuckles as he observes your friends playing an intense game of ninja across you two.

“I’m honestly not sure how I got stuck with these eggheads, but at least it’s been getting me out of the house and doing something for the last couple of years.” You respond, looking at the guys back.

The party continued to ramp up, with more people showing up, some familiar faces, as the day went on. Music filled the air, laughter was everywhere, and the smell of delicious food wafted through the yard. Hoseok, in his element, kept the energy high with his DJ skills, creating a festive atmosphere. You sit poolside, feet dipped in the water while watching your boyfriend and friends in the pool. Jungkook had convince Yeonjun to join them, which made him open up a bit than earlier,

"You’re not coming in the pool, Tiny?" Namjoon asked, nudging you slightly.

"Mmm," you replied with a coy smile. "Depends if I get a good enough reason to. Otherwise, I’ll chill here." "Oh? We'll give you plenty of reasons."

Just then, Jimin swam over with a mischievous grin. "You know, it's not a real pool party unless everyone's in the pool," he said.

Before you could react, Namjoon and Jimin each grabbed one of your arms. "Hey! Wait!" you squealed, but it was too late. They pulled you into the pool with a big splash.

You resurfaced, pushing your wet hair out of your face. The guys laughed, making you huff. "You guys are the worst!" you said, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.

Yeonjun was about to swim over towards you, until Yoongi beat him to it, “Are you good, Y/N?”

You turned to see Yoongi offering you a hand. "Yeah, I'm okay!" you replied, reaching out to take his hand. With his help, you pulled yourself up to the edge of the pool, sitting there once again with your feet in the water.

"Thanks, Yoongs," you said, giving Yoongi a grateful smile. He nodded, his expression softening as he looked at you.

"No problem," he replied, his tone gentle. "Just making sure you're okay."

As you chatted with Yoongi, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was bothering Yeonjun as he stood in the pool with the others. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of uncertainty that you couldn't quite place.

You caught his gaze for a moment, and you could sense a fear lingering in the pit of his stomach, something he couldn't find the courage to voice. It made you wonder what was going through his mind, what thoughts were swirling beneath that calm exterior he often wore.

Despite your curiosity, you didn't push him to share. Instead, you offered him a reassuring smile, hoping to convey that you were there for him if he ever needed to talk.

As the night wore on and darkness settled over the neighborhood, the sky erupted in bursts of color and light as fireworks filled the air. You and the guys gathered in the driveway, lighting sparklers and watching in awe as the vibrant displays lit up the night.

Yeonjun draped his arm around you, pulling you close as you both gazed up at the dazzling spectacle above. The warmth of his touch and the closeness between you brought a sense of comfort, momentarily easing the worries that had been nagging at you earlier.

As you and Yeonjun watched the fireworks together, he leaned in close, his voice low and smug over the noise of the festivities.

"These fireworks are pretty impressive," he remarked, his eyes flickering with amusement as he looked up at the sky. “Illegal though, but beautiful.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his teasing tone. "Ha, well I think they’re okay, I guess," you replied, feigning nonchalance.

Yeonjun chuckled, his arm sliding casually around your waist. "Just okay? Come on, Y/N. They’re just as pretty as you."

You couldn't help but laugh at his flirty comment, feeling a warm flush spread across your cheeks. "You’re such a smooth talker, aren't you?" you teased, nudging him playfully with your shoulder.

He flashed you a cocky grin, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of mischief. "Hey, when you've got it, flaunt it," he quipped, his confidence shining through. Without a word, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft, sweet kiss. It was quick but electrifying, sending a rush of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. When you pulled away, both of you were left grinning like fools, unable to contain your laughter.

But amidst your shared moment of joy, you couldn't help but notice Yoongi's subtle glance from the side, his expression unreadable in the dim light. A fleeting observation, without time to question it more before Jin called out to you to join them in a sparkler fest.

August 18, 20XX [Friday]

More time spent together with Yeonjun continues to keep you busy throughout the summer, and progressively, you start seeing less and less of specific people. You don’t know if it’s intentional on either end, but that’s just how things have been going.

“I’m taking you to Knott’s Berry Farm.” Yeonjun says, driving and continuing to look at the road ahead of him.

The slow spiraling of thoughts scatter for a moment as your heart skips a beat at Yeonjun's announcement. Knott's Berry Farm? You hadn't been to an amusement park since the eighth-grade end-of-year trip. The memories flood back, and you can't help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with a hint of nostalgia.

"Seriously?" you ask, unable to contain the grin spreading across your face.

Yeonjun nods, glancing at you with a playful smile. "Yep, seriously. Thought it'd be a fun way to spend the day with you. I love this place too."

You can hardly believe your luck. Knott's Berry Farm is no doubt the most fun place to be at, and with its thrilling rides, delicious food, and vibrant atmosphere, you knew it would be such a cute date to have.

As you continue down the road, you can't help but chatter excitedly about all the rides you want to go on and the treats you can't wait to try. Yeonjun listens with a smile, occasionally interjecting with his own thoughts and memories of the park from when he was in middle school as well.

You and Yeonjun wander through the park, you come across a charming merry-go-round tucked away in a corner. Yeonjun's eyes light up with excitement, and he suggests taking a ride together. You agree, feeling a flutter of anticipation as you approach the carousel.

Once seated on the colorful wooden horses, you exchange smiles and playful glances with Yeonjun as the merry-go-round begins to spin. The cheerful music fills the air, and you can't help but giggle as you rise and fall with the gentle motion of the ride.

"You’re such a kid!" Yeonjun teases, his laughter mixing with yours.

"Well, what can I say? I just want to be young forever," you reply, feeling carefree in this moment with him. You wave your arm out, feeling so free and liberated.

Is this the korean drama relationship you’ve always dreamed up. After all this time, it feels like you’ve finally achieved it. All these cute dates. A loving boyfriend who was once your academic rival. A summer romance.

Though, when you remember that it’s not just you and Yeonjun in this little world you’ve crafted together, reality hits and you recall the words that your best friends once said: “Right, but you better not leave us behind or start ignoring us for your boyfriend, alright?”

And then enters a sense of guilt and doubt you’ve felt earlier.

As the ride slows to a stop, you catch sight of Namjoon, who coincidentally is staring right at you off the ride. He’s with a group of people, you can’t tell at the moment. Your heart skips a beat, and a sudden wave of anxiety washes over you. You're not sure why you feel this way, especially around your best friends, but the thought of them seeing you with Yeonjun has progressively made you feel self-conscious. Why is this happening?

"Hey, isn't that Namjoon and the others?" Yeonjun asks, noticing your reaction.

"Yeah," you reply softly, unable to shake off the nerves.

Yeonjun looks at you with concern, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze yours. "Y/N, Are you okay?"

You nod, offering him a reassuring smile. "Oh, yeah. Just felt a little nauseous for a sec. Let's go say hi."

Together, you approach Namjoon who turns out to be hanging out with familiar faces like Jungkook and Jin. The other people in their party are unfamiliar to you, but you do see Namjoon’s fling and Jungkook’s fling behind him.

Unease grows, but you try to push it aside. As you greet them with a smile and introduce yourself to the unknown faces, you can't help but wonder why being with Yeonjun in front of your friends feels so daunting.

You notice Namjoon's being a bit quiet, letting Jin and Jungkook excitedly converse with Yeonjun. You feel a pang of disappointment at the lack of words from him, but you try to brush it off, not wanting to make a scene.

“Jin hyung mentioned he wanted to come to an amusement park so he dragged us–” Jungkook is smacked on the back by the older man.

“You guys wanted to come with me voluntarily! So we brought some buddies. Yoongi and the rest of the guys hate theme parks.” Jin argued back, making you giggle slightly.

Namjoon offers a half-hearted nod while Jungkook and Jin give you bright smiles. Yeonjun stands beside you, his expression unreadable as he observes the interaction.

"Do you want to join us for some rides?" Jin suggests, breaking the awkward silence. "The lines don't look too bad today. The more the merrier right?" The other guys and girls happily agree.

"Yeah! Let’s do it Y/N!" Jungkook agrees, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

You glance at Yeonjun, silently asking for his opinion. He nods in agreement, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Sure, that sounds fun.”

"Great! Which ride should we go on first?" you ask, trying to steer the conversation away from the tension that still lingers between Namjoon and Yeonjun.

As you wait in line for the Ghostrider rollercoaster, you can't shake the feeling of tension between Namjoon and Yeonjun. Namjoon stands a little too close to you, pointedly ignoring Yeonjun's attempts at conversation and even the fling he’s here with. You exchange a concerned glance with Yeonjun, but he offers you a reassuring smile, trying to brush off the awkwardness.

You enjoy the thrill of five rides together, getting to talk to some of the college friends Jin and Namjoon brought along, as well as being silly with Jungkook. He reminds you a lot of Jimin at times, and it makes you miss him. You hadn’t seen him for sometime.

Something else you’ve noticed during this little adventure is that Hyungseo has been trying to cling to Namjoon, however, he keeps kindly rejecting her advances. After some time, she sticks to a few of the other girls in the group, who she seems to gossip about you to. Jungkook’s fling (who you find out is named Tzuyu) is really kind, and probably the only girl to want to genuinely talk to you seeing how comfortable you are around Jungkook. And not in an overly-touchy way,

After all the rides, the churning sensation in your stomach becomes too much to ignore. "I'm going to grab a water," you announce to the group, nodding towards the nearby concession stand. Yeonjun, Jungkook, and Jin nod in understanding, eager to continue their adventure.

“I can come with you,” Yeonjun suggests, but you shake your head slightly.

“It’s okay, Jjunie. Go join everyone else for another ride! I want you to have fun,” you assure him with a warm smile.

“Yes, dear friend! Come join us on this quest!” Jin comments, pointing to the next ride, which looks like an insane rollercoaster.

Though he hesitates to leave you behind, he eventually nods and heads over to join Jin and the others.

As you wait in line to buy a bottle of water, Namjoon joins you, his expression unreadable. You sense his tension and decide to break the ice. "You didn’t go on the ride?” You ask.

“Nah, I’ve been feeling parched, so I wanted to grab something to drink,” he responds, his lips forming a straight line. Something is definitely amiss.

“Okay…” You reply before addressing the elephant in the room. "Hey Joonie, is everything okay?" you ask, trying to sound casual.

Namjoon hesitates for a moment before replying, "Yeah, why?" His tone is curt, and you can't help but feel a pang of annoyance.

"Namjoon, you've been acting weird towards Yeonjun all day… Plus, you aren’t hanging out with Hyungseo?" you finally confront him, unable to ignore the tension any longer. "What's going on?"

"Surprised you even remembered her name.” He chuckles “We’re just friends, nothing serious. I don’t need to be glued to her all the time.”

That sounds like a slight jab to you hanging around Yeonjun, but you’re not gonna say that.

“Ignoring my main question, I see.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Hey, I’m not being weird. I just… don't like Yeonjun, isn’t that fair to feel? I don’t trust him either."

You furrow your brows in confusion. "What do you mean? Yeonjun is my boyfriend, and he's been nothing but kind to me."

Namjoon shakes his head, his expression firm. "I know, but I’ve heard from Jimin and the shit his dance friends said. I have a bad feeling about him. I don't want to see you get hurt."

It’s actually interesting that he brings this up right now, because you realized, that despite you hanging out with Yeonjun often, you haven’t met those dance friends. You’ve talked about wanting to dance, but he says he’ll bring you there eventually.

You feel a surge of frustration at Namjoon's stubbornness. “Namjoon, I appreciate your concern, but I'm capable of making my own decisions. Yeonjun cares about me, and I trust him.” You take the time to sigh now, “Plus, How do we know that whatever rumors they say are true. Maybe it could be some jealous ex?’

Namjoon opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off, not wanting to hear any more of his unfounded suspicions. "Fine, let's just enjoy the rest of the day, okay? We can talk about this later."

“No… I want to talk about this right now. I know you, Yoongi, and Jimin might be worried that Yeonjun could be using me or even seeing someone else, but everything is going amazing right now. He’s been the sweetest boyfriend.” You sigh, feeling tears welling up in your eyes, “I just want my best friends to get along with my boyfriend. Please.”

Feeling the depth of your emotions, Namjoon's expression softens, his concern evident in his eyes. "I understand, Tiny. I'm sorry if I've made things uncomfortable," he says, his tone gentler now.

There. He says it again like he did back in June. It feels like walking on eggshells.

You nod, appreciating his willingness to listen. "It's okay, Joonie. I know you're just looking out for me," you reply, feeling some of the tension ease between you.

Namjoon lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I just want what's best for you, you know? And if Yeonjun truly cares about you, then I'll do my best to support you both," he admits, his voice tinged with sincerity, but also a hint of frustration. You don’t want to comment on that. You wonder if you were in his position, would you do the same thing? Maybe.

Nonetheless, a sense of relief washes over you, grateful for Namjoon's willingness to put aside his reservations for your sake. "Thank you, Joonie. That means a lot to me," you say, offering him a small smile.

As the day comes to a close, you bid farewell to the guys, exchanging hugs and promises to hang out again soon. With Yeonjun by your side, you exit the park, the vibrant lights of the attractions fading into the distance as you make your way to his car.

The silence hangs between you for a moment, the only sound the soft hum of the engine as Yeonjun starts the car. Then, breaking the quietude, Yeonjun speaks up, his voice laced with uncertainty, "Namjoon doesn't like me much, does he?"

You turn to look at him, noting the furrow in his brow and the tension in his shoulders. Sighing softly, you reach out to place a comforting hand on his arm. "No! It's not that he doesn't like you, Jjunie," you assure him, using the affectionate nickname you've grown fond of. "He's just protective of me, that's all."

Which you initially thought wasn’t the case, but with time, you’re starting to see it come out.

Yeonjun nods, though his expression remains troubled. "I get that," he replies, his gaze fixed on the road ahead and recounting the many stories of your past with Namjoon that you’ve told him. "But I want him to know that I care about you too, and that I'll do everything I can to make you happy."

You offer him a reassuring smile, feeling a surge of warmth at his words. "I know you will, Jjunie," you say, squeezing his arm gently. "And I appreciate that more than you know." Yeonjun stops at an empty parking lot by the lake park by his place just to prove this simple fact to you. You're not sure when you ended up in his lap but you can't complain as you run your fingers through the waves of his hair. Pressed up against him in such a tight space. The flurry of emotions has goosebumps raising on your skin and he pulls away, panting harshly. Your foreheads are touching as you gaze at each other.

"I still can't believe you want me," he almost laughs in disbelief. "Is this real or am I dreaming?"

"Of course, you're not dreaming. I do want you. Always have. None of your other crushes ever want you?" You roll your hips as a test and Yeonjun’s low moan of your name only amplifies your confidence. "How could they when they weren't me?"

He slides his seat back, the sudden motion causing you to slam a hand against the window to try to steady yourself and avoid throwing your weight against him. But that's exactly what he wants. Using the momentum to cup the round cheeks of your ass under your skirt, he positions you right where the tip of his hard cock pokes against his jeans. You can feel him through the thin piece of fabric that is your already ruined panties.

"You're so wet, baby," he murmurs against your lips. "All for me, yeah? No one else, no other guy could soak your pussy like me, right?"

Even if it was a lie (which it wasn't), you can only agree because Yeonjun doesn't move an inch until a resounding yes leaves your lips. It's another scrambled blur as you fight to undo his belt and pull his jeans in the small space you have.

Just like your love for him.

You let out a relieved sigh when his cock is in your hand and Yeonjun moans, throwing his head back. You'd moved down a bit so you could jerk him off easier, giggling at how he twitches when he feels the heat of your pulsating cunt leaking all over his thigh.

Then, once prepped, Yeonjun slides your panties to the side and prepares to roll a condom down on his length. He lets his head fall forehead and softly bumps your forehead with his as you attempt to sink down on his dick. He keeps his fingers splayed across both of your hips, bunching up the fabric of your short skirt so he can watch the way your puffy pussy lips part and wrap around the tip of his thick, hard cock.

And then eventually, after a series of thrusts, rolls, and moans of “jjunie” and “princess”, you both reach orgasm.

Yes, this is the world you want to stay in. You don’t want this to end.

August 21st, 20XX [Monday]

The faint sounds of a video game’s battle music filled Yoongi’s living room, but none of the guys were paying attention. The controllers lay discarded on the couch, forgotten as they discussed a far more pressing issue.

"I feel like I'm gonna lose my mind," Namjoon groaned, throwing an arm over his face as he leaned back on the couch, staring blankly up at the ceiling. His frustration hanged in the air.

“Well, what can you do? She loves the guy and he seems to love her. We just gotta let them be.” Yoongi muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.

“Yeah, and I found out that guy is really just a total dick! Are you really just going to ‘let them be’ while knowing that?” Jimin snapped from the other side of the room, his voice sharp with disbelief.

Taehyung, perched on the edge of the couch, chimed in, his tone more neutral. "Come on, he can't be that bad." He glanced at Hoseok, who nodded thoughtfully in agreement. Jimin, however, was having none of it. "Oh, he's that bad," he insisted, leaning forward with an intensity that had everyone’s attention. "Some of my dancer mutuals told me Yeonjun was completely head over heels for Y/N, but suddenly he's been cozying up to some of the college freshmen girls who just moved into the city for university. They go to the same dance center he trains at. If that doesn’t say something about him and a change in behavior, I don’t know what will."

"Maybe he's just being friendly?" Taehyung suggested, elbowing Jimin playfully. "Isn't he like that? Aren't you like that?"

Jimin shot him a glare, clearly annoyed. "You see, compared to me, I don’t act all friendly and even touchy with other people, especially girls, while I’m dating someone. That’s making it seem like I’m not interested in my partner, which is what Yeonjun’s showing.” “I thought you guys collectively agreed you wouldn't care about who she was seeing and wouldn't let it get in the way of your lives,” Hoseok pointed out, his voice calm but firm.

The pact. Jimin, Yoongi and Namjoon made that to not let their feelings get in the way of your friendship with them, but they would also try to continue to support you in dating another man, even if it wasn’t them.

Emphasis on “try”, it wasn’t working. Hoseok had heard about this pact, but the other guys don’t know the details or extent of everything.

"I mean, we tried," Namjoon admitted with a heavy sigh, dragging his hand down his face. "But how can we just sit back and let this happen when we know he's... he's not good for her? She deserves better."

Yoongi's fingers drummed absentmindedly on his knee, his usually calm demeanor cracking ever so slightly. "Hoseok's right, though. We said we wouldn’t let this ruin things. But watching her with him? It’s harder than I thought. We don’t even talk to her as much as we used to. Even college had me feeling distanced."

Jimin threw his phone at the floor in frustration, stuttering. "B-But If Yeonjun’s messing around behind her back, we can’t just sit here and do nothing!"

The room fell into a heavy silence. Even the game’s background music seemed to fade into the distance. It was clear that the pact, once meant to protect their friendship and their feelings for you, was now a source of inner conflict when you’re with someone else.

Hoseok, who hadn’t been as deeply involved in the situation, finally spoke up. "So, what are you guys gonna do? Intervene and risk her getting mad at you all, or let it play out and see if she figures it out on her own?"

Yoongi’s eyes flickered with an emotion none of them could name. Deep down, he knew the answer to that question. And it wasn’t going to be easy.

Namjoon, staring at the ceiling again, said quietly, “Maybe Hoseok’s right. We’re the ones who need to figure out what we’re doing—before we lose her entirely. Let’s just let her be.” Yoongi and Jimin exchanged pained glances, both struggling to accept the decision they knew they had to make. Despite the knot tightening in their chests, it was clear that the only path left was to respect your choices. You seem to trust Yeonjun and Yeonjun seems to do that too, however with time, people’s true colors start to bleed through like the pages written in Sharpie ink.

It’s only a matter of time before you’d see it too. That despite getting closer to Yeonjun, his spark would eventually flicker and dim.

And that’s what happened.

September 10, 20XX [Sunday]

Yeonjun drove you to campus for move-in day, his car filled to the brim with boxes filled with your things to move into college. Despite the conversations and silly banter you had with him throughout the two hour car ride to campus, something felt off about him. You couldn’t pin point it. Maybe he’s sad that you’re going to be apart for sometime? But his school is still relatively close enough for you to hang out on weekends. He’s being allowed to take his car to campus, so lucky of him.

For the stuff that didn’t fit in his car, you kindly begged Yoongi to add to his car filled with Jimin’s stuff. And he kindly allowed it. A win for you!

You think back to when Yoongi arrived at your house to pick up your stuff, it had been the first time you saw him in over a month. He had cut his hair, styled it differently from the usually bowl cut style he’d sport. He looked… good.

Jimin had the longer bowl cut look, which he sat in the box trying to not get crushed by boxes. Namjoon stepped into the passenger seat, his hair short as well. It felt relieving to see them alive and well after some time. You hadn’t seen Namjoon since the amusement park date.

You’d thought you’d get to see them more often, but good thing is that you’ll be at the same school again.

“Thank you guys for helping Jimin and me move into our dorm,” you chirped, flashing a grin as you gave Namjoon and Yoongi a playful pat on the back. You walked beside them, rolling up a cart piled high with a ridiculous amount of boxes.

“Anytime, just for you,” Yoongi sang in his usual deadpan way, though the small smile tugging at his lips gave him away.

Namjoon chuckled, glancing over at the mountain of stuff. “You sure this is everything? Feels like you packed your whole life.”

You shrugged, grinning. "Gotta be prepared for anything."

Yoongi nods, smirking as he adds, “Yeah, just don’t forget who helped when it’s time to hang stuff up.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Don’t worry, I’ll keep that in mind. Decorating party at my place later, right?"

The campus had mostly quieted down by the afternoon, some students already attending some of the orientation/back to school festivities. Most of the freshmen had already moved in that morning, leaving the dorm halls a lot less chaotic. Jimin, who had been assigned to the same building as you but lived four doors down the hall, had already unpacked most of his things earlier. Yoongi and Namjoon, being sophomores, had moved into their dorm across the quad the day before, making them more than willing to lend a hand.

As you all approach the open door to your dorm, you see Yeonjun inside, standing in front of your roommate’s side of the room, helping unpack some things. His face brightens when he spots you. “Hey, Princess,” he greeted with a charming smile, lifting a small stack of books. “Where do you want these?”

You paused for a second, feeling your heart skip a beat at the sight of him in your space. "Oh, just put them on the desk for now," you said, trying to sound nonchalant as you wheeled the cart in.

Yoongi, walking in behind you, exchanged a glance with Namjoon. They didn’t say anything, but the tension was palpable. You could feel it hanging in the air between them and Yeonjun, though neither had the courage—or the willingness—to voice whatever was on their minds.

Jimin entered your room after finishing unpacking the major things he had boxed up in his dorm room, "Still can't believe we're neighbors now. You'll be crashing at my place in no time."

You laugh softly and punch his arm lightly. "We’ll see about that."

Namjoon, with his typical smirk, adds, "Don't let her get too comfortable, Jimin. She might just never leave."

“Haha, as if. I’ll be fine in the comfort of my own hut here, once I get everything set up, that is.”

As everyone helped unpack, the awkwardness lingered, though Yoongi and Namjoon seemed to make an effort to push through it. You couldn't help but notice their eyes occasionally flitting toward Yeonjun, especially when he got too close to you. And while Yeonjun remained his usual confident self, you couldn’t shake the feeling that even he sensed the underlying tension.

After a while, Yoongi cleared his throat. “Alright, I think we’ve done our part. Plus, I’m hungry. You guys want anything for a late lunch? I’ll go with Namjoon and bring it over to eat here.”

“Are you getting it from the dining hall or off campus?”

Namjoon chuckled. “We’ve got a Pizza My Heart right across the street at the university town center. I don’t think we should subject you to dining hall hell yet.”

You laughed. “Fair! Just get me whatever looks good, as long as it doesn’t have olives.”

“Okay, princess,” Yoongi teased sarcastically, earning a laugh from everyone—well, except Yeonjun, whose expression was unreadable.

“We’ll be back soon,” Yoongi added as he stood up, nudging Namjoon to follow.

Jimin stood up as well, stretching his arms. “I’m gonna be back. I need to grab my MacBook charger from Jungkook. He’s on the first floor.”

You nodded, “Alright, see you soon.”

As the others left, you were left alone with Yeonjun, and suddenly the room felt a bit quieter. You could sense the shift in the air, but decided not to address it yet. Instead, you turned to him and smiled. “Thanks again for all the help today.”

He smiled back, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course, anything for you."

After setting up the bedding, you sat on your bed, cross-legged, while Yeonjun at on the floor, scrolling through his phone before going back to taking things out of your boxes. The energy in the room was quieter, almost unsettling, and even though nothing had really happened, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something felt… off. Maybe it was how distant Yeonjun had been, or how little he’d said since Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jimin left.

“So, are you going to rush for a frat?” you asked, trying to cut through the awkwardness in the air. He’d mentioned it before as a joke, but now that school was starting, you wonder if he was seriously considering it.

Yeonjun shrugged. “Yeah, I think so. I mean, some of the guys I know are rushing, so it wouldn’t hurt to check it out.”

You smiled, though it felt forced. “That's cool. I guess it’s like… a built-in social life, huh?”

“Yeah, and the connections, I heard, could be good for internships or something. I don’t know much yet, but I’ll figure it out,” he replied, his voice sounding unusually flat.

You shifted, adjusting the pillow behind your back. “I was looking into joining some clubs too. There's the Korean Student Association and Intramural Volleyball club that sound fun, and there’s also this creative collective for business students interested in marketing and branding. I think it could be a great way to meet people and maybe do something more hands-on.”

Yeonjun nodded, but you noticed his attention was drifting, like he wasn’t really invested in the conversation. That was when you felt the first pang of unease. You tried to brush it off, telling yourself it was just nerves from the whole “new chapter” thing.

“So, what do you think? Should I go for all? I know it’s a lot, but I kind of want to try everything.”

Yeonjun glanced up at you, meeting your eyes for a split second before looking away again. His jaw tightened a little, and there was this flicker of something in his expression—something you couldn’t quite read. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he said, his voice strained, like he was forcing himself to sound supportive. “It’s… it’s really great that you’re finding your path.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly, sensing the shift. He wasn’t being weird, not exactly, but something in his tone wasn’t right. It was like he was holding back. You weren’t sure whether to push him or let it go, but the knot in your stomach only grew tighter.

“Yeonjun, is everything good? You seem a little... off.” You laughed lightly, hoping to ease whatever tension was in the air.

He let out a slow breath and rubbed the back of his neck. "I’ve just been thinking about some stuff.”

Oh.

“Oh? Like what?”

“Like…” His voice trailed off, the words hanging in the air between you. The pause felt longer than it should have, and your pulse quickened.

He stood up from where he’d been sitting on the floor, crossing his arms as he looked at you—really looked at you—like he was trying to brace himself for whatever he was about to say.

You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, and the dread that had been quietly bubbling up inside you suddenly spiked.

“Y/N…" His voice was serious, and when his eyes met yours, they didn’t hold the warmth you were used to. Instead, they were cold, distant, like he was already somewhere else. “Let’s break up.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, trying to process the words that had come out of his mouth. Did he really just say what you thought he said? “…What?”

“I think we should break up,” he repeated, this time with more conviction, like he’d already made the decision long before this moment. His tone was so matter-of-fact, so detached, it almost didn’t feel real.

You blinked, frozen in place. Your brain was scrambling to catch up to the situation, but all you could do was stare at him, disbelief washing over you. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, not like this. You had just been talking about school, about clubs, about the future—things that felt exciting. You’ve been dating all summer, and you were about to start a new chapter together after years of being rivals. And now, just like that, he was ending it?

“Yeonjun…” you finally managed to say, your voice quiet and shaky. “Where is this coming from? We were just—everything was fine…”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Y/N. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, I just didn’t know how to bring it up. We’re going to college, we’re going to meet new people… things are gonna change.”

His words hit you like a punch in the gut. “So… that’s it? You’ve been thinking about it for a while, and now you just… drop this on me? In the middle of you helping me move in to my dorm? Right before I start my first day of college tomorrow”

Yeonjun didn’t look at you, his jaw tightening as he stood there, silent. It was clear he had made up his mind, but that didn’t stop the confusion and hurt from flooding you.

Yeonjun looked down, avoiding your gaze. "I’m sorry, Y/N," he finally muttered, his voice soft but resolute.

You watched as he turned toward the door, his hands slipping into his pockets as if he’d already checked out of this moment. He was leaving. He was actually walking away.

You got off your bed, wanting to chase after him, hoping to somehow find out the real reason why. What he said can’t be the answer!

However, because you were sitting cross-legged, your legs had fallen asleep, causing you to stumble and fall to the carpeted floor. You groan from the sudden contact, fists balling up.

“...After everything, you’re just gonna walk away, Yeonjun?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, a mix of anger and heartbreak clawing at your chest.

Yeonjun paused for a moment at the door but didn’t turn around. The silence felt crushing, like the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving only the hollow space between you. He didn’t say anything, just opened the door and stepped out, leaving you sitting there in a daze.

Namjoon and Yoongi walked back into your dorm building after someone from inside buzzed them in. Each of them held a pizza box from Pizza My Heart, the one right across the street, with paper plates tucked under one arm and little packets of crushed red pepper and parmesan balanced on top. They were deep in conversation about Yoongi's music, as usual.

"I’m kinda jealous," Namjoon admitted, balancing the pizzas as they headed up the stairs. "You get to fully dive into that and make it your thing. Already producing amazing music at your age too. I don’t even know what my thing is yet."

Yoongi had been producing tracks for people on a freelance basis, just because he fell in love with it. Thanks to you encouraging him in the past. Namjoon had wanted to do a similar thing, however, he doesn’t think he could be as great at Yoongi. Plus there were other things he wanted to do on his mind.

Yoongi shrugged, his casual confidence showing through. "You’ll figure it out, man. You’ve got time. It’s not like everything’s set in stone."

Namjoon let out a soft chuckle, but it was tinged with uncertainty. "I’m leaning toward doing work in writing or art conservation… I just love how it connects culture and history, you know? But I’m majoring in polisci like my mom wanted. It feels more... secure, I guess. Something to lean on if I don’t find my footing elsewhere."

Yoongi nodded, understanding but focused. "That makes sense. You're always reading up on political theory in your free time, so it’s not like it’s a waste either."

As they climbed the stairs, they reached the hallway leading to your dorm when Namjoon noticed Yeonjun walking in the opposite direction, clearly in a hurry. Something about his rushed pace felt… wrong. Instinctively, Namjoon called out, "Yo, Yeonjun!"

But Yeonjun kept moving, not even glancing in their direction. He usually wasn’t the most chatty guy around Namjoon, but he always acknowledged him. This time? Nothing.

"That’s weird," Namjoon muttered, looking over at Yoongi, who was already watching him with raised eyebrows. Yoongi sensed it too—something was off.

They quickened their pace toward your dorm room. As they approached, they saw that the door was slightly ajar. Namjoon’s heart skipped a beat, his fingers tightening on the pizza boxes. Why was the door open?

Pushing the door open, they stepped inside and immediately froze.

You were sitting on the floor, devastation clear in your eyes. Tears streamed down your cheeks, but you didn’t make a sound. Your arms were limp, hands resting on your lap, and your eyes stared blankly ahead, as if everything around you had collapsed in that moment.

Namjoon’s heart sank to the floor, the pizza boxes feeling like dead weight in his hands. He didn’t need an explanation to understand what had just happened, but Yoongi was the one to break the heavy silence. “What… happened?” Yoongi’s voice was low and careful, as if even asking might shatter the fragile state you were in.

You didn’t look up, but your voice came out, flat and hollow. "He broke up with me."

Namjoon’s breath hitched. That was all you needed to say. He immediately set the pizza boxes down, shoving them into Yoongi’s arms without a word and rushed out of the room, determination in his steps.

What the hell, Yeonjun? Namjoon thought as he bolted down the hall. His mind raced, a mixture of anger and disbelief bubbling up inside him. How could you just do that? Out of nowhere?

Namjoon reached the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time as his thoughts continued to swirl. He barely registered his surroundings as he burst through the door and out into the parking lot, scanning the area for any sign of Yeonjun.

But he was already gone.

Namjoon stood there, breathing hard, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His mind replayed the sight of you on the floor, shattered, and the empty hallway where Yeonjun had disappeared. He cursed under his breath, staring out into the empty parking lot, feeling utterly helpless.

Upon returning to your dorm, Namjoon stepped inside to find you crumpled against Yoongi’s shoulder, your sobs tearing through the quiet room. Yoongi sat there, his arm around you, giving gentle, soothing pats on your back. His expression was calm, but his eyes were clouded with concern

Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung had shown up, standing a few feet away, clearly unsure of how to approach the situation. They exchanged worried glances, but didn’t dare say anything, afraid to make things worse.

Namjoon stood there for a moment, running a hand through his hair in frustration before speaking. “He’s gone,” he said flatly, his voice carrying the weight of disappointment and anger.

You didn’t even look up. Your voice, fragile and broken, managed to slip through the tears. “It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine. Namjoon could hear it in the way your voice cracked, in the way your body trembled against Yoongi. The room was silent, save for your quiet sobs, and the tension hung heavily between all of you.

Jimin stepped forward, kneeling down next to you. "Hey," he said softly, his tone as gentle as he could muster. "We’re here. You don’t have to go through this alone, alright?"

Taehyung, standing behind Jimin, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve got us now too.” He referred to him, Jungkook, Hoseok and Seokjin. “Whatever you need, just say the word.”

"Should we go hunt Yeonjun down and beat the shit out of him?" Jungkook chimes in, his tone was both serious and protective. “Namjoon hyung and I will take care of it!”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, momentarily startled by the boldness, but the hint of anger in his eyes showed he wasn’t entirely against the idea. “It wouldn’t be that hard to find him, right?” he added, cracking his knuckles.

A part of you almost wanted to say yes, let them go after him. Let someone else feel this rage, this betrayal, the way you were feeling it now. But would it fix anything? The thought of them confronting Yeonjun, of this turning into something more, twisted in your stomach. You didn’t want that kind of drama. You didn’t want to give Yeonjun the satisfaction of knowing he’d affected you this deeply.

“As satisfying as that might sound, we probably shouldn’t resort to violence.” Jimin glanced at you, his soft gaze almost apologetic, as if he knew this was far from enough to make up for what just happened.

A small, dry laugh escaped your lips, surprising even yourself. “I don’t think beating him up will change anything. But… I appreciate the thought.”

You were trying to keep it together, but every breath felt heavier than the last. There was a numbness creeping into your limbs, a strange feeling of disassociation. Like you were watching everything from the outside, seeing your friends rally around you, but not fully present in your own skin. How did it get to this point? Just hours ago, everything seemed okay. You'd laughed with Yeonjun, talked about plans with your best friends, even looked forward to your classes... and then, out of nowhere, he tore everything apart.

Jungkook still looked like he was ready to throw down. “It’s not fair that he just walks away like that! You deserve better!”

Better. You nodded slowly, the reality of the situation starting to sink in. You did deserve better, didn’t you? But for some reason, it felt like you couldn’t quite believe it. Like a part of you was still stuck on the idea that maybe you’d done something wrong, that you weren’t enough. You shook off the thought before it could take root. “I know. It just… hurts.”

It really does.

Yoongi’s hand stayed firm on your shoulder, grounding you. “You’ve got us. That’s what matters right now.”

Namjoon sighed, letting go of some of the anger building up inside him. “We’ll handle Yeonjun another way if we need to,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “But for now, let’s focus on getting you through this.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. They were trying so hard to help you, to lift you up, and you appreciated it more than you could ever say. But even with their support, there was an ache inside you that you couldn’t shake. A part of you felt so small, so foolish, for letting Yeonjun in just for him to leave like this.

Jimin and Taehyung, sensing the heavy atmosphere, suggested playing games or heading over to Hoseok and Seokjin’s off-campus rental to distract you. They were trying to lift the mood, and though you appreciated their efforts, you weren’t quite up for it. You mustered a small smile, grateful for how much they cared, but the weight of your heartbreak still anchored you. The thought of how lucky you were to have them by your side helped, but it didn’t ease the pain completely.

As the afternoon slowly bled into the evening, you left the dorm with your friends to explore the campus before classes began the next day. You did your best to seem like you were okay, like crying it out and eating pizza had made you feel better. But even though you laughed at their jokes and joined in the conversation, you couldn’t fool them. They knew you were struggling beneath the surface.

In the days that followed, despite the distraction of your new routine, the heartache lingered like a dull ache. You kept busy, throwing yourself into unpacking, attending orientation events, and exploring the campus with your friends. But no matter how much you tried to move on, Yeonjun's sudden departure haunted you, lingering in your thoughts when you least expected it. Even surrounded by friends and laughter, there was always a hollow space where he used to be.

You tried to shake it off, but the sadness crept in, even more as classes started and the reality of college life sank in. You knew it would take time, but for now, pretending to be fine was the best you could do.

Your first year of college was supposed to be exciting, but much of it blurred together, like walking through a fog. The daily routines, classes, and dorm life all seemed to meld into one long stretch of time, where the only thing that truly stood out were small, vivid memories—those moments where everything suddenly felt in color. One of those was the day you met Ahn Hyejin, known around campus as Hwasa. It was a week into the semester when you finally worked up the courage to go to the Fall Club Fair and join a club. The guys wanted you to go check it out, hoping this would get you out of your daze. And it kinda did help.

You’ve never had a female close friend before. Usually girls would steer clear of you out of jealousy for being friends with Namjoon, Yoongi and Jimin.

However, Hwasa was different. Hwasa was bold, unafraid to speak her mind, and had a way of making you feel like you were exactly where you needed to be. She didn’t care about the other guys, as she also had close guy friends too. She quickly became the friend you didn’t realize you needed. With her, you started feeling more like yourself again. Together, you explored the campus, hit up the best food spots, and even talked about bigger things, like what you wanted from life and what it meant to start fresh. Each step forward was a tiny rebellion against the lingering thoughts of Yeonjun.

Bit by bit, you immersed yourself in college life, finding comfort in new experiences, distractions, and laughter. Parties. Maybe a little bit of underage drinking in moderation, of course. Slowly, the weight of that breakup lifted, and you began to focus on your future, your passions, and the friends who were always there for you. In time, Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung, and the rest of the group became even more important to you. Their support, the inside jokes, and all the moments shared together filled the spaces that had once been occupied by the pain of Yeonjun leaving.

One afternoon in late spring, you found yourself sitting on the campus lawn with Yoongi, watching one of Yoongi’s band friends perform at the Spring Fling. Students sit around you two, while a gentle breeze swept through the budding trees. He was fixing the strings on his guitar, which he recently started to learn to play. He was lost in thought as usual, while you sat beside him, enjoying music and the warmth of the sun on your skin.

“You’ve changed,” he said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

You turned to look at him, a bit surprised by the observation. “In what way?”

He glanced up from his guitar, his eyes soft but serious. “I don’t know... you just seem lighter. More like yourself again.”

You smiled, feeling the weight of his words. “Is that so? I think I’m finally starting to let that thing go.”

Yoongi nodded, strumming another chord. “It’s good to see. We were all worried for a while... after Yeonjun.”

At the mention of his name, you expected to feel that familiar sting, the one that usually sat in your chest whenever you thought about him. But this time, it wasn’t as sharp. “Yeah,” you murmured, looking down at your hands, “I was a mess for a while, but that’s life. I thought the relationship meant something bigger, but ”

“You weren’t a mess,” Yoongi corrected, his voice calm and measured, “you were healing.”

You took a deep breath, letting his words sink in. Healing. That’s exactly what it was. Slowly but surely, piece by piece, you were putting yourself back together. And in that moment, sitting beside Yoongi on the grass, watching the band play, you realized just how far you’d come. The fog had started to lift.

Spring had a way of bringing new beginnings, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were ready for yours.

But that was just the beginning of another story—the one you wouldn’t fully understand until much later.

–

A/N: thank you for reading! if you're be interested, please check out my 'love u lately' series focused on Yoongi x Namjoon x Jimin x Reader. happy yeonjun day!

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ love u lately series masterlist

#yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x y/n #txt x reader #txt imagines #bts fic #bts #txt smut #txt scenarios #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #jimin x reader #love u lately #love u lately masterlist #lul #yoonminjoon #tomorrow x together #smut #la la lost you

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