#angst scenarios
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hopelessromwriter · 11 months ago
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No matter the cost
Rhysand x daughter!reader
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In the Night Court, where stars painted a tapestry of luminescence above, Rhysand paced within his study, his heart heavy with concern.
His daughter withdrew into the solitude of her room, her distress palpable even from a distance.
A gentle knock broke the silence, and Rhysand entered without waiting for an invitation, finding you perched on the edge of your bed, a veil of melancholy clouding your usually bright eyes.
“(Y/n),” Rhysand called softly, a tender note in his voice. “My dear girl.”
You raised your gaze, the weight of your emotions evident in the lines etched upon your face. You attempted a smile, but it crumbled under your father’s attentive gaze.
Rhysand settled beside you, his heart aching to assuage your pain.
He reached out, fingers hovering hesitantly, yearning to provide solace to his beloved daughter but unsure of how to navigate her shattered emotions.
“You don’t need to speak,” Rhysand murmured, his voice a soothing melody. “I feel your anguish, the turmoil within you. You’re hurting.”
Your composure shattered, tears cascading down your cheeks as the floodgates of your pain opened. “It’s…it’s unbearable, Papa. I never imagined it would hurt this much.”
Rhysand enveloped you in a protective embrace, his heart shattering at the sight of your crumbling. His whispered words carried the weight of a father’s unwavering love and dedication.
“I’d move mountains to spare you this pain,” Rhysand vowed, his voice resonating with a father’s resolute determination. “You’re my everything, my precious one. I’ll shield you from harm, protecting you with all I have.”
You clung to him, seeking refuge in your father’s embrace. His warmth, his unconditional love, provided fleeting relief amidst the tempest raging in your soul.
“I’m here, my dear,” Rhysand whispered, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead. “Together, we’ll weather this storm. I’ll stand by your side.”
“No matter the cost.”
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stubz · 1 year ago
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Angst Scenarios that I love
possessed/mind control character fighting friends and loved ones. Love the angst, conflicted feelings, and the different kinds
Mindless puppet- just a quiet fleshy puppet that obeys every order. Maybe feral
Host puppet- bad guy talks to you through them, taunts you, insults you, etc.
Hypnotized/brainwashed- not the bad guy but them that's hurling insults at you. Attacks you cause they 'hate' you
Aware puppet- they're aware of everything that's happening. They see what's going on, feel it, hear it and can do nothing about it.
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bighitfics · 5 months ago
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jeon jungkook fanfics that deserve to be turned into kdramas and selling books.
(a recommendation you badly need) ⭑.ᐟ
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Sauvage ౨ৎ by @tljunglebook
— grumpy x sunshine, cold and detached jungkook (who turns into a whipped puppy later on) office romance, slow burn.
(starting off strong! this book’s got the most delicious slow burn to ever exist! screaming at how sexy, dirty minded, down bad & protective for oc jungkook’s in this fic ugh the wattpad girlies already know that they’re my adopted parents)
10 Seconds ᥫ᭡ by @deepdarkdelights
— yandere jungkook, abduction, stalking, stockholm syndrome.
(this series is my first love, i would do anything to read this for the first time again!)
Penpal 𓍯𓂃 by @laughing-with-god
— yandere prisoner jungkook, stalking, breaking in.
(gotta contact some directors and producers to turn this into a drama! it would slay so hard with its refreshing plot line! and tbh no words are enough to describe her writing abilities, she’s a pro✨)
Risqué ✧˖° by @mercurygguk
— age gap, forbidden romance, smut, angst.
(the time stamps and drabbles are the essence of this fic, the smut is so well written! ALSO THE SEGSUAL TENSION AND OVERALL YEARNING MA’AM!? can someone already turn this into a mini netflix series please!?)
About Time ִ࣪𖤐 by @yoonia
— time travel au, major angst, second chances, smut, fluff.
(if i had the chance to devour a book, i’d eat this one (obviously) it’s one of the best books of my life, i would die to see a live version of this)
I Want You To Stay ʚɞ ⁺˖ by @ahundredtimesover
— ceo jungkook, strangers to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut.
(no slow burn ever slow burned the way this story slow burned! lemme warn ya’ll this fic will keep getting better as you read it!)
Bride Of Devil ♰ 𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ �� by @jasminefanfics
— dark romance, gangster au, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, age gap, kinda yandere husband jungkook.
(my youtube fanfic girlies assemble! this is the best mafia jungkook fic i can recommend for ya’ll! the bgm is so addictive and perfect)
An Abundance Of Luck And A Sprinkle Of Fate 𐙚 by @borathae
— strangers to lovers, romance, found family, smut, angst, healing.
(I remember being unhealthily obsessed with this lord, aaol!kook & oc will forever be my babies TT this book tugs at your heart in a way that’s inexplainable)
ps — have a good read girlies <3
follow for more.
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nanamiscocksleeve · 3 months ago
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Prescription For Pleasure
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Warnings: MDNI, sex, masturbation, medical masturbation, use of vibrators, clit play, piv sex, use of latex gloves, oral (fem receiving), some praise, kinda slow burn A/n: I am not normal about this man in any way. Not really proofread. Please do not use my banners without permission.
You’re seated in Zayne’s office, trying not to squirm as he sets up your appointment. Although this was now the third time you were seeing him for this regular inspection, it didn’t alleviate your nerves the slightest. Each month, according to the Hunter’s Association regulations, every hunter needed to be seen by their primary care physician for 3 consecutive days for their health.
And although the association deemed it a necessity, it was an embarrassing requirement according to you. The Hunter’s Association had done a survey and discovered that many of their employees suffered from high levels of stress because they were isolated and lacked much-needed human contact. To combat this, they made it mandatory to get physical contact by a medical professional every month.
But when all the fancy jargon was pushed aside, all the hunters called it the same thing - medical masturbation. It had become wildly popular amongst both men and women hunters, eagerly marking the days on their calendar for when they could come in. When you heard about the rule, you wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You had tried talking to Jenna to insist that you were indeed taking care of yourself in that aspect, thanks to your trusted vibrator, but she had shaken her head no. 
“We need documentation. I’m subject to it, and so is everyone else in my order.”  Defeated, you’d walked out of Jenna’s office before remembering another mortifying fact with a jolt. Your primary care physician was Zayne. 
Your childhood friend, your trusted cardiologist, stoic and calm, who remained reserved during your general checkups, was going to be your medical masturbator. You had almost turned yourself into a ball on the floor, tweaked out at the insanity of it all. Although Zayne was your general physician, you had a separate gynecologist, and apart from asking if you’d had your annual PAP smear, Zayne had left that part of your anatomy unquestioned. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him, and sure, if he’d asked you out on a date, you would have been more than happy to let him inspect you all he wanted down there.
But this clinical setting, enforced by your organization was a little too much to bear. Wondering how to tackle this situation, you wander over to Tara who was humming as she made her medical bookings on her phone app. “Isn’t this exciting?” she squeals as she sees you. “God knows the dating pool is thin right now. This is just what I needed!”
Tara’s primary care physician was a woman, and you wondered if that was a pro or a con. On the one hand, dropping your panties for a woman doctor seemed less unnerving than for a man. But if you had a preference for men, would it work against your arousal? You shook your head at your ridiculous musings and focused on talking to Tara. “Are you really that excited about this?”
“You have no idea!” Tara taps her feet as she talks to you. 
“And you’re ok about having a woman stimulate you?” You probe, trying to gauge Tara’s reaction. Tara giggles and lightly pats your shoulder. 
“I don’t know but the idea is kind of hot. I mean, getting it on in a doctor’s office? Besides if I don’t like it, I can change the doctor the next time.”
Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. “You can change your doctor?”
“For this yes, the app gives you an option since it involves showing off a lot of intimate areas. You have to be able to trust your doctor right?”
You logged into the app, finding the little button to request a change in doctors, but for some reason, the page kept refreshing and crashing. With a sigh, you decide to get the worst of it over with and call Zayne, hoping he can make the change for you on his end. His voice is cool and professional when he answers your call.
“Yes?”
“So, you must have heard about…the new regulation?” you had put forth nervously.
“I am aware of it, yes.” 
“Well, for obvious reasons, I would like a different doctor.” 
Zayne smoothly says, “Of course. Patient comfort is always first. Do you have a doctor in mind?”
“Maybe my gynecologist? I tried doing it in the app but it keeps crashing.” There’s a moment of silence and you can hear Zayne’s fingers tapping away at his keyboard before a low hum leaves his end of the line.
“There appears to be a problem.”
“Problem?” you’d parrotted back.
“Yes. Because so many people are booking appointments at the same time, most of the available doctors are already taken. Including your gynecologist.” 
It felt like watching a bird crashing into a window in slow motion, that brief moment of hope that it wouldn’t hit the glass shattering in an instant. “Oh.”
There’s a pause before Zayne delicately says, “I’m sorry but it looks like you will have to make those appointments with me for this month. 3 of them according to the regulation. Hopefully, you can make the change for next month.” His voice sounded slightly apologetic.
“Won’t it be weird given that we know each other personally?” The question had fallen from your lips before you could stop yourself. 
“I promise not to treat you any differently than any of my other patients who are coming in for this inspection. I understand this may be a little unexpected, but I assure you I did a term of gynecology during my internship.”
A tinge of mirth carried over in his voice and you can’t help but make a noise of embarrassment. “Zayne, please!” His laugh was dry but not unkind, and you can’t help but want to hide your face even though he couldn’t see you. 
“Don’t worry too much. But I do advise you to make the appointments soon. My schedule is filling up rapidly.”
With those words, he’d disconnected the call and you were left wondering if an unknown god from another planet had cursed your existence. 
And changing doctors had proven to be more difficult than you’d thought. The entire organization seemed to be having a single thought. They had made appointments in the app almost halfway into the year, essentially blocking you from being able to do anything about your situation. Now on your third month with Zayne, you watch as he checks his notes from your last session, feeling like you want to scamper from the room.
The last two sessions had been incredibly stimulating, your arousal heightened by the fact you were attracted to Zayne. You’d never considered having someone watch as you touched yourself but found that you’d enjoyed it, at least, when it was him. He had remained professional, but you’d avoided him these last two months, save for when you had to get your monthly cardiac profile. He reads his notes from his computer as he prepares for your session. 
“Preferred device for stimulation still a vibrator, with a large, rounded, flexible head?” His eyes remain on his screen and you’re grateful for him giving you this smidgen of privacy. 
“Yes.”
“Preference for the doggystyle position still?” 
Your face burns. “Yes.”
“Still consenting for verbal stimulation?”
You nod your head.
“And still consenting for internal vaginal stimulation?” You make a noise of consent, squeezing your thighs together, your panties uncomfortably chafing against your already swollen pussy. 
“All right, I have everything I need.” He logs off and removes his lab coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his well-corded arms, and your mouth almost waters at the sight of them. Clearing your throat, you shyly reach into your bag and pull out the vibrator in question, which he takes from you and clamps into a stand, adjusting it over the examination table you’d be on. A bottle of lube awaits on the tray next to the table and you swallow as he finishes the setup. 
“Whenever you’re ready,” he says in that deep voice, and feeling like your fingers are wrapped in thick woolen mittens, you reach behind you to untie the hospital gown you’re wearing, and it falls to the floor with a swoosh, your nipples pebbling under the sudden chill. A small set of sensors were taped to your chest and on the sides of your forehead, essential medical devices to ensure your orgasm was satisfactory. Unperturbed, Zayne gestures to the table and you make your way onto it, letting your feet settle in the stirrups as he settles on a stool between your legs, pulling on latex gloves before gently spreading your folds apart. You stare up at the ceiling as he does his initial checkup.
“Labia look healthy, no signs of trauma or abnormal discharge,” he murmurs, then runs a finger down the edge of the fold that separates your inner and outer lips, causing your core to clench involuntarily. You hold still, knowing very well he saw the action, holding your breath, letting out a little sigh as he lets go. 
“Normal reaction to stimuli, already semi-aroused,” he says, trashing the gloves and making another note on his computer. He glances over at you, leaning back uncertainly on the table. “You may begin.”
You swallow, then carefully turn onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the head of the table, grabbing the bottle of lube and squeezing the viscous liquid onto the head of the vibrator, avoiding eye contact as your breasts sway under the motion, nipples painfully hard from anticipation. You could feel Zayne’s gaze but can’t bring yourself to look up. Even though this was the third time, it hadn’t gotten easier, stripping naked and pleasuring yourself in his office. 
Once the rounded head of the vibrator is slick, you turn, the chill of the lube against your heated membranes causing more blood to flow into your already engorged nub, and run your moist slit across the surface to spread the liquid onto your slickened folds. Your hand fumbles for the little remote control and with a buzz, the vibrator turns on at the lowest setting. You click the button a few more times until it gets to the speed you liked, then fail to hold back a moan as the sensations pleasurably begin to take hold in your clit. 
The first time you had done this, nervousness had made you set the vibrator on the highest possible setting hoping to get a quick orgasm and sprint out of the office. Unfortunately, the sensors relayed this information into Zayne’s medical record that your climax had been unsatisfactory, and you had endured being lectured by him with the medical gown loosely draped on your body, your rear open to the cold office air. 
His tone wasn’t unkind but it hadn’t helped you feel better either. “It helps neither of us if you rush this. The whole purpose of this examination is to ensure you’re relaxing. I know it’s embarrassing but if you fail to have a proper orgasm, I’ll have to make you repeat the process until I get data that says otherwise.”
“The sensors are-”
“The only way to measure anything. Without involving another person anyway.”
His words had left you gobsmacked and your retort had died in your mouth. After that incident, you had learned. Even with the chagrin of having him watch you, you had learned to take your time and let the feelings build, leading to incredibly savory climaxes that made your body squirm from the aftershocks. 
Your hips sway, setting up a rhythm to brush your sensitive slit onto the head, letting it vibrate from cunt to clit, the lube aiding the frictionless sliding and making your core drip. Quiet noises of pleasure leave your throat as help yourself, arching your back and changing the curvature of your ass to maximize the sensations, then when the perfect pattern emerges, you let out a keening sigh, and try to remain still, letting the vibrator work its magic. 
Zayne, who has been quietly observing the computer this entire time, observing the spikes relayed from the sensors, asks, “Have you found your optimal pleasure form?”
“Yes,” you gasp, the timbre of his voice sending an arrow of lust into the deepest parts of your clenching core. You knew what was about to come next. The sound of Zayne’s desk chair moving, followed by the snap of latex gloves as he pulled a fresh pair onto those beautiful hands. He approaches the examination table and takes the bottle of lube you had set aside earlier, a wet squelching noise issuing from it as he squeezes it over his gloved hand, gathering the fluid on his index and middle fingers. He leans over to whisper in your ears; the verbal stimulation has begun.
The humiliating reveal that you had a heavy praise kink had come up during your initial session and despite your insistence that it wasn’t necessary, Zayne, the ever-diligent worker, had made a note in your profile, and he’d been fulfilling it each time. A tickle of hot breath near your ear, before he murmurs, “Are you enjoying yourself?”
The hum of the vibrator in the background coupled with his voice makes your breath catch in your throat. You nod, knowing you didn’t have it in you to form coherent words. 
“That’s a good patient. Good patients listen to their doctors you know. And you’re doing a wonderful job.”
Your hips snap back to push your clit against the rubber pad, letting out a whimper of pleasure, the action pushing your ass up higher, revealing your pathetically drooling cunt, fluttering with the dissatisfaction of being unfilled. 
“Are you ready?” He waits for your consent and you manage a husky, ‘mm hm’.
“Good girl. Take a breath.”
You inhale, trying to relax, then let out an uninhibited moan as Dr. Zayne inserts his middle finger into your needy cunt, the ring of muscles offering no resistance to the probing digit. He gently thrusts a few times, before curling the tip of his finger up into the delicate patch of nerves on your upper wall, the smooth come hither motion awakening a new level of pleasure in your body. Your fingers tighten on the edges of the table, sobbing, trying not to scream at the feelings that threatened to explode from you. He keeps up the gentle assault before asking, “Are you ready for another one?”
“Yes…” your voice comes out shakily, knowing you desired more than just his fingers, but that you would never get to experience it. 
“Perfect. So well behaved, taking exactly what I give you.” Zayne’s sensual voice floods your ear before his index pushes into you, the thickness of both his fingers sending you into overdrive. Your walls clench welcomingly around him, inciting an exciting pull of liquid heat in your abdomen, the muscles tensing in anticipation for the exquisite release you knew was about to occur. 
Feeling your inhibitions abandon you as you are stroked closer to orgasm your self-control slips and his name falls from your lips as he pushes over the edge.
“Zayne…” some partially functioning confine in the back of your brain registers what you had just involuntarily purred, but the spasms rocking your core, those gratifying waves of delight flooding your body made it easier to ignore it as your being is reduced to a pliant mess of pleasure. His fingers ease up as the fluttering in your pussy calms down, your clit pulsating weakly as the final vestiges of pleasure are wrung from your body. 
With a wet noise, his fingers leave your moist hole, the glove coated with your juices and the lubricant. Awareness finally comes crashing around you as you realize what you had uttered in the throes of passion. 
“I…I didn’t…I wasn’t in control…” You try to find a way to explain, to let him know you had very little choice in the matter of sobbing his name as you orgasmed, but everything feels flat, almost on the fine line between explaining and insulting. 
“There’s no need.” Almost as if he’s read your mind, Zayne matter-of-factly redirects the conversation. “It’s not uncommon to blurt out things during climax. Some people swear, and others call out names. It was a very normal reaction considering I was the one in the room with you.”
He throws the gloves in the trash and goes to check the computer, to ensure the sensors had given him the information he needed before starting the second round of the appointment.
“Oh.” You say quietly as he sits at his desk, feeling dejected. Although relieved he wasn’t making a big deal out of it, you can’t help but feel disappointed with his reaction. Shouldn’t a man be flattered when a woman cried out his name when she came? Maybe he really was treating you strictly as a patient. And here you were, pussy exposed and spread after being probed by his dextrous fingers, mooning over him like a high school girl. Perhaps the limit of your relationship with him was in fact, doctor and patient, the childhood friends aspect fading. 
So there was no romance here at all. You had a crush on him, and he was doing his job. Reality sucks. You sniff and suddenly feel cheap, and get out of the doggystyle position and try to find the hospital gown to preserve some of your modesty. Zayne glances over at your sudden movements.
“Are you cold? I can get you a blanket.”
“I’m fine.” You try to sound normal. 
“Your records show that you usually rest about 10 minutes before you are ready for the next round. Do you feel like that will be the case this time too?”
You find the gown and drag it up to your chin, covering your body as you lay back on the table. “Yeah. Actually a little sooner today maybe. I have somewhere to be.”
“You can’t rush these things. Your body will cum when it wants to. A forced orgasm doesn’t promote anything beneficial.”
“Well can we find a way for this to happen quickly and in compliance with the sensors?” You’re trying not to let your frustration show, the pleasantness of your orgasm fading. “I don’t think I have the patience to do two more rounds.”
Zayne listens to you impassively, but those amber eyes flecked with green had an underlying intensity you couldn’t place. “You don’t have the patience to do two more rounds?” He gets up and comes over to you. “You want to just leave then?” He approaches the edge of the table and there’s tension in his jaw. Perplexed, you look at him, his reaction unexpected. 
“No, I’m sorry, I know I can’t leave because of compliance and all that.”
“Compliance,” Zayne mutters under his breath before grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him, a gasp leaving your throat. 
“You’re getting frustrated because you have to do this a few times every month while being supervised? Do you have any idea what I have to do before you come in for these sessions?” His voice is a growl and you clam up, shocked by this aggressive display of expression from him.
“Every month I have to remain professional as you come in, pleasure yourself, and then leave. I have to endure seeing your beautiful body bare in front of me and control all my impulses to touch you, to not overstep my limitations as your doctor. I pleasure myself remembering the noises you make and ensure I’m well spent before coming in to do your appointments. You sit there, acting like it’s hard for you, but do you have any idea what you do to me?”
One of his knees is on the table, and he’s looming over you making you feel like a tiny animal caught in his fury. “It’s torture, to watch you. You’re not like the other patients I see. You never have been. Because with you, I always feel like I’m on the verge of losing control. Do you know how difficult it is to not do things to you that aren’t specified on your medical record? To have my fingers so intimately inside you, feel every little drop of pleasure clenching around my fingers, knowing at the end I can’t have you to myself? To hear you call my name and know that you only see me as your doctor?” 
Your face is a bright shade of red but you can’t look away from his face. His teeth are gritted, and when you dare to glance down, you see the noticeable bulge that has formed between his legs. He follows your glance and clicks his tongue, letting go of your chin. 
“I know I crossed a boundary today. It’s all right. You can go. I’ll reschedule you with another doctor. I know you didn’t want me in the first place.”
Your mind is a blur as you quickly reach out to grab his hand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. His admission was like a prayer answered, and you weren’t going to meek about this. His breath hitches as he feels you pulling at his hand and gives you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part but the words you want to say refuse to come out. 
“Damn it,” he whispers ferally before his mouth captures yours in a rough kiss. It was wild and demanding, a contrast to the reserved, patient man he usually was. You’re swept up in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. When you break apart, his hand cups your cheek, his eyes searching your face.
“This isn’t just because of the session right?” He asks keenly and you realize what he’s asking you. He’d been aching for you before this whole stupid policy came into place. The same way you’d been longing for him. 
“No, it’s not. I had a crush on you back when you became my doctor to check on my heart condition.” A sigh of relief leaves him before he tenderly presses his forehead to yours, and you’re caught up in the sweetness of the moment. 
“I just had to be sure.”
Boldly, you raise your head, delighted when he meets you, pulled back into his kiss, your tongues sliding over each other, your fingers tangling into his hair, scratching the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 
You gasp as he breaks the kiss to drag his tongue down the column of your throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the heated flesh, your blood humming in your veins as your eyes flutter closed. He pulls away the gown and pulls your perked nipple into his mouth, and you revel in the jolt of pleasure it brings you, each suckle felt in your clit which had already swollen up again in need. His fingers capture your other nipple, softly tweaking and pulling it and drawing little whines of desire from your throat. 
Your hand finds the junction between his legs and cups the heavy bulge, drawing a groan from him, palming him through his slacks, feeling it grow and tent the fabric under your ministrations. A low guttural sound leaves him and he gets off the table, and you almost protest until you see him dragging the small wheeled stool from earlier towards the table. He settles down on it, looping his arms around the tops of your thighs and pulling you closer to the table's edge until your feet find the stirrups again. 
“Stay open for me darling,” he instructs, his eyes glittering and you shiver as you feel his breath against your swollen folds. You squeak as he pushes your folds apart with his nose, inhaling your scent, his eyes growing dark with lust. “You smell delicious. I always wondered. Had to stop myself from sniffing my gloves after you climaxed. Not professional you know.” 
The musky tang of your pussy fills his senses, and his tongue darts out and dips into your slit, finding the swollen bud and licking it with just the right pressure that makes your toes curl and stars pop into your vision. 
Your hand rests on his head, tugging his beautiful dark locks, his name falling from your lips without barriers. Your hips rock against him, moaning, then let a sob as his lips suction around your clit. His fingers, free from the gloves at last, probe your entrance, scissoring inside to prepare you for what was to come before they curl up into that gummy patch that he knew too well. 
The sensations flood you, and the sheer knowledge of knowing you had Zayne touching you this way, unbound by the usual rules was sending you into a frenzy. Incoherent noises leave your mouth, crying out hotly as he teases the orgasm from you, your body shivering from the intensity. 
He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and takes in your appearance, so soft and satisfied on his table, a dreamy look in your eyes.
“Are you prepared for the after?” he asks, you nod, more than eager to experience him. A sly smile crosses his face before he reaches over into the little chest of drawers by the table and pulls out a condom. 
“Hospitals have free condoms. It would be impractical to not use one when it’s on hand.” He explains seeing your questioning look and stands to undo his pants. You watch curiously as his cock is finally freed, eyes widening as it faces you, so impressive and veiny, standing proudly with a slight curve in its length. His pubes were neatly trimmed at the base, ebony curls visible behind the shaft. As he starts to roll on the condom, you feel your whole body heating up in anticipation. 
He leans down to kiss you before taking your feet and resting them on his shoulders, his cock at the perfect angle to enter you. As he sinks into your welcoming heat, you let out a sigh of longing, feeling the delicious stretch of muscle as he pushes up inside you, gasping as you feel his full length sheathe itself. As he bottoms out, his eyes close in bliss, hardly daring to believe that after all this time, he is finally getting to fulfill this private dream. 
Each stroke has him brushing against your gspot and kissing your cervix as he paces himself, feeling the primal urge to take you roughly and selfishly calling at his self-control. A growl leaves his throat as you whimper, straining towards him as the both of you struggle to keep a grip on reality. He feels the seductive way your walls clench around him, hears the soft noises you make, sees your face contort in pleasure with every roll of his hips. 
“Oh you feel so good,” he pants hotly, glasses askew, almost at the tip of his nose as he thrusts. “Clenching me so needily. Gonna milk me dry.”
Your response is a shuddering whimper, your back arching greedily to feel all of him, creating the perfect curvature to brush your clit against the base of his erection with each push of his hips. He feels the little bud on his heated skin, your combined fluids dripping onto his shaft, slickening the bundle of nerves with each stroke. 
“Be a good girl and cum on my cock the way you do on my fingers.” Zayne’s voice is husky as he tries to hold on, damned if he came before you. “I know you want to. I can feel the way your walls are spasming. They always do this pattern before you orgasm.”
The fact that he had memorized this knowledge of you was too much and you let go, your voice filling the room as you climax. Zayne’s hips stutter as he feels you around his length, pussy fluttering so him. His pace quickens, the sound of slapping skin becoming more and more urgent, his balls hitting your ass each time as he chases his orgasm. 
A shiver passes through his body as it happens and he buries himself in your warmth. You hum in satisfaction as you feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you as he spills his load. He pants, sweat on his forehead as he bends down to kiss you again, carefully lowering your legs which burn from the stretch as they settle on the stirrups. 
Threading your fingers through his hair, you brush your noses together, smiling shyly at him as he smirks, his eyes closing as he catches his breath.
“Can I see you outside of my office sometime?” he asks and you laugh at the invitation. 
“Are you asking me out on a date after having sex just once?” you tease as he grips the base of the condom and slides out, your pussy feeling the loss keenly. 
“I have been wanting to for a while. I was just wondering if I was misreading the signals. But I think I have a solid answer now.” He helps you sit up and cradles your body against his, idly stroking your skin, before gently removing the sensors off your body. 
“Let’s get dressed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead after a moment of cozy silence, and the both of you hunt down your clothes. As he fixes his tie, Zayne passes by his computer and lets out an amused huff. 
“Something funny?” you ask as you button your blouse.
“The sensors definitely gave enough information to make anyone’s head spin.” You walk over and snort as you see the window, full of sharp spikes. 
“Well, at least I am guaranteed you had a good time.” Zayne’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he pulls you in for another kiss. 
“I’m not changing my doctor,” you reassure him as you pull away. There’s amusement in his gaze when he replies. 
“Oh, definitely not. I think if the Hunter’s Association ever sees this record, they’ll heavily advise you to remain with the same healthcare professional.” 
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© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating support banner by @/ cafekitsune @theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @actuallysaiyan
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chuluoyi · 4 months ago
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𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄
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- sylus x reader
more than friends with benefits, definitely lovers. your relationship is one filled with banters, steamy nights, and secret strings attached... but when someone shows an interest in you, sylus won't hesitate to stake his claim for everyone to see
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—jealousy, crack, fluff, smut, a dash of comfort, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc)
note: loosely a sequel to strictly (un)professional. how this snowballed into 3.8k... i don't really know :')
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“Missus, please spare us!”
You shot an unamused look at the twins before you, who clasped their hands together, pleading for you to let them go.
“Why is it so difficult for both of you to say?” you hissed, crossing your arms together. “I’m not asking for much—just a recount of what happened!”
“Boss will have our tongues for this!” Kieran looked up at you, quivering. “No way, I want to live!”
“He’s terrifying…” Luke shuddered in fear, hugging himself. “You don’t know how frightening he is!”
You were holding both Luke and Kieran hostage, the tender preys, all because Sylus refused to reveal what you had been wanting to know these past few weeks.
“So you’re afraid of Sylus…” You fixed them with a steely glare. “But have you ever thought that if you don’t spill it now, I will be the one taking both your tongues?”
“—?! Missus, please!”
“Why are you bullying the twins?” A deep voice cut through the twins’ pitiful laments, and you let out an exasperated huff as your chance slipped away once more.
Speak of the devil, and Sylus shall appear. He looked at the scene before him as if you were all a bunch of kindergarteners.
Luke and Kieran immediately flocked to him. “Boss! Save us! She’s scary!”
And now you were suddenly the scary one. You rolled your eyes. "Your henchmen are useless."
Sylus glanced at you with a half smile, knowing what information you were squeezing the twins for. "Sweetie, just give it up. You'll find peace faster that way."
Was it wrong to be curious about what Sylus had been up to during the three weeks you were unconscious after the attack that literally took your life? Why was he being so secretive about it anyway?
“I know, you were so worried sick you didn’t even eat or sleep,” you taunted your lover with a wicked smile. “That’s why you won’t tell me about it.”
Sylus laughed outright. “Pftt. You’ve got quite the imagination. Good to know.”
Nothing much changed after that night of his confession—if you could call it that—to you. You were indeed no longer strictly his bedwarmer, but your banters stayed the same, if not even more sarcastic now.
“Chop chop, we have an auction to go to, sweetie.” Sylus placed his big hand on your head, amused. “Stop being a hissy kitten towards the poor twins and get ready, hmm?”
“I’ll definitely uncover it,” you shot him a resentful glare. “Just you wait and see.”
Such were your days with your true kindred-spirits lover. He would tease you during the day and turn you into a hot mess at night, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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In tonight's auction, you had one target: the broker for a new rising star firearms dealer. Sylus had been eyeing him, deducing his goods could be a nice addition to his armory.
And so, you went up to him. However...
“...Are you single, miss?”
Here we go again.
You forced a tight smile. “Sir, I’d appreciate it if we can stick to subject at hand.”
The man blinked, then quickly plastered on a wide grin to mask his surprise. “Oh yes! Yes, I-I’m sorry, I got distracted— well, I’d say this is a pretty solid MoU... but I’ll need to contact my boss first.”
This weirdo... you thought with boredom, is so transparent.
This wasn’t the first time you’d dealt with a situation like this. Granted, you were pretty and you knew it, but usually, more distinguished men would be a bit more subtle about it.
“Take all the time you need,” you encouraged smoothly, your eyes crinkling in an attempt to look friendly. “As you can see, Mr. Sylus has proposed the perfect bargain for this kind of dealings.”
“I wouldn’t argue with that. I assure you we’ll certainly try to accommodate his request.” The man nodded and gave you a meaningful look, before coughing awkwardly. “Uh, sorry, what was your name again, miss?”
Your faux smile remained perfectly still as you replied, “Mephisto.”
The man’s eyes roved over you, and he grinned roguishly. “Right. Still, I never expected Mr. Sylus’ secretary to be as beautiful as you, Miss Mephisto...”
This was tedious. Your patience was tested with every leering look he gave you. Sylus must know this already, and he's somewhere laughing at the sight of you dealing with this creep.
“You flatter me too much, I’m average.”
“No, no! I mean it!”
He knows... yet he wouldn't do anything about it. Not that you would expect Sylus to barge in like a man blinded by envy, but still, he was insufferable for not coming to you just like he had for Miss Hunter back then.
The man kept droning on and on about himself and everything else that had nothing to do with the business deal, and you were this close to dropping him and using your Evol to shut him up when—
He then turned to you expectantly. “Oh, there is a dance! Miss, would you mind if I have your first dance?”
“Oh...”
And it occurred to you... why not spice things up a little?
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Sylus’ dark crimson eyes narrowed silently as he watched both of you from the island table while savoring his glass of wine, before he let out a loud snort.
That vermin doesn’t have a clue he is playing with fire.
For most of your interaction, the firearms dealer’s broker kept giving you suggestive looks, and occasionally brushing his hand against yours on purpose. He wasn't even trying to hide it, and it was amusing to see how aggravated you looked the entire time.
Adorable. Sylus found you incredibly endearing these days, from your pouts to your glazed eyes whenever he thrusted into you—
You were oh so delectable… at least until he saw you holding that lesser man's arm, as he led you to the dance floor.
A deep frown immediately formed in his forehead.
“What are you scheming now?” Sylus scowled, half exasperated and half in disbelief. “You naughty cat.”
He was even more irked when he saw how casually you wrapped your arms around that vermin, twirling and pressing yourself against him in a waltz. Seeing him trying to hit on you was one thing, but for you to reciprocate was just plain unacceptable.
—and to his ire, your audacity continued throughout the night.
. . .
“Miss Mephisto, do you play pool?”
“I do.”
“Then, will you play with me?”
Sylus was now burning with tendrils of anger, watching you from a closer corner. He had seen the broker put his hands on you so many times that he had lost count—during the dance, mingling with other guests, and while sharing hearty laughs. All in all, you were acting as if you had forgotten he was even here.
You were threading on a very thin ice and whether you realized it or not... you didn't seem to care.
"Ah, I think your stance is a bit off..." And to make it worse, the broker was definitely seizing every chance he could, as there was nothing wrong with your form—you often accompanied Sylus playing pool, so you were a pro—and yet he still got behind you, trying to drape his arms around your body.
That was the last straw. Enough is enough.
Before Sylus realized what he was doing, he stormed over to where you were, yanked your arm forcefully, and effectively separated you from him. He didn’t give a damn about the horrified shout from the broker or the judging looks from other partygoers as he dragged you by the hand out of the ballroom.
“Sylus!” you nearly shrieked when he kicked open a door to a meeting room and locked it with his black-red mist. He pinned you against the wall, and crashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss.
“Mmph!” You tried pushing him back, but he was stronger and held you in place, his tongue forcing your lips open as he pressed the back of your head toward him. His other hand slipped inside your dress—between your legs— two fingers in—
“—!” you couldn't even squeal as he devoured your mouth and the shock set in, feeling yourself getting aroused by the minute when his fingers did that scissoring thing and edged you further.
After he was done with your mouth, his hot lips trailed down to your neck and shoulder blades, sucking hard on several spots, making you gasp and moan.
"Hah... this... is the price to pay for testing me, sweetie," your lover growled his nickname for you with satisfaction as he noticed you trembling body, nibbling on your shoulder. "You want to get punished so badly, huh?"
"Ahh..." you threw your head back, clinging to him, grinding yourself against his fingers.
"Is it funny to you? Watching me see him touch you?" Sylus' unforgiving ruby eyes stared down at you like a lion eyeing its prey. "What an insolent little kitten you are..."
His fingers kept moving and thrusting inside you in an alarming speed, mercilessly hitting that one spot that could make you cry. He was seriously teaching you a lesson by forcing you to come undone right then and there.
"I-I...!" you tried to refute, but then you felt the knot inside you burst, and in the next second, you could feel yourself coming all over his fingers, shuddering, your breaths coming in pants.
Feeling faint, relief washed you when he pulled out his fingers. You leaned and clung onto him, pulling him closer, and Sylus finally saw what a mess he had turned you into.
Your glassy eyes focused solely on him, seemingly pleading—and those swollen lips, as well as the sizzling heat creeping up your cheeks—
“Ha,” he let out a low chuckle, a wicked grin curling his lips. “If I can still make you look like this, then I suppose I can forgive you.”
“You’re a meanie,” you mumbled breathlessly.
“You’re the mean one,” Sylus tutted with narrowed eyes, starting to pull away from you.
But then you pulled him close again and pressed your lips to his, this time with a gentleness that surprised him.
There was no malice or burning desire in your kiss. Strangely, it felt far more intimate. You pulled away, the heart-stopping swirls of his red eyes captivating you as you pressed your foreheads together.
“Needy, aren’t you, sweetie?” Sylus whispered, holding your gaze, his breath hot against your skin.
But right now, all of a sudden, you looked so vulnerable to him, as if any wrong word from his lips would shatter you. It made him almost feel guilty for manhandling you so roughly.
You didn’t respond, just wanting this closeness with him. Behind your snarky words and little schemes, this was what you wanted more than the release you just got. Sometimes, you still worried—did he want this too?
“What is it?” Sylus asked with a frown, seemingly concerned. “Talk. Tell me.”
“Nothing…” you replied in a small voice.
“Do you feel sick? Want to go back?”
You shook your head.
You weren’t usually this quiet. Sylus couldn’t help being restless at your sudden change. It felt awkward for him to do what he was about to do next, but instinctively, he figured it would comfort you a bit.
You felt a pang in your heart when he pulled away, but in the next instant, a wave of warmth enveloped you as he pressed you to him, burying your head against his sturdy chest.
For someone who deals with blood and gore, your body felt too soft and fragile, yet still fit perfectly in his arms. Though he had held you and made love to you many times before, it was only now that he truly noticed how small you were.
“You’re warm…” you murmured, your voice carrying a hint of a whine.
So needy and pliant… for him.
“My woman is such an enduring mystery.” Sylus mused, sounding almost as if he were lamenting. “Sometimes she’s a brazen kitten without a shred of shame, but then she pulls stunts like this.”
Your heart picked up the pace. You are... his. That was right. You were his woman in every sense of the word now, and he wasn't shying away from it.
But to cover your embarrassment, you could only come up with, “Can you not refer to me as cat...?”
He shot you an irked glance. “No.”
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“He calls me by your bird’s name.”
“...”
“Sylus, you can’t murder him. Your deal will go down the drain.”
“Tch.” Sylus blew out an annoyed sigh, glaring at you. “By the time I get back here, you’re going back with me.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes.”
Honestly you were exhausted, and you wanted to nothing more than a good sleep. But you couldn't just leave the broker without preamble because this deal depended on him, and Sylus too had some loose ends he had to tie before the two of you left.
Strangely, all eyes were on you when you returned to the ballroom. You wondered why as you navigated the crowd until you met the broker you had fooled in so many ways.
“Oh, Miss Mephisto, you’re back!” he was visibly and utterly drunk, and you cringed at the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. But then you noticed his eyes seemed to be fixated on your—
Neck. You realized in horror.
“Oh... hic, t-that... I-I see,” he blabbered, coughing awkwardly as he stared at the marks on your neck. “Miss... so that man is... y-your lover...?”
“Uh...” It was a wonder he didn’t recognize Sylus at first glance. Perhaps it was because he was so infamous, but it astounded you how this person couldn’t even tell that it was him.
"I-I thought... w-we..." he hiccupped again heartbrokenly, before snatching a glass on the table. "Oh, I need more drink!"
You observed him, half cringing. "Sir, I just want to remind you that once the documents are signed—"
"Yeah, yeah! It will be done by the end of the week!" he yelled at you. "Miss, how about you have a drink too!?"
Suddenly, a glass of gin was shoved into your hand, and you let out an irritated sigh. Yeah, he might be right. A glass of alcohol would help you sleep better tonight, you figured, so you chugged it down.
"Huh...?" And it didn’t take you long to realize something was amiss. The dizzying sensation set in far too quickly, you felt so hot, and you had to lean on the table next to you to keep from falling.
“Are you okay...?” a waitress asked you with concern, but the only sound you could hear was your own violent heartbeat. Before you knew it, the glass in your hand slipped from your grasp and crashed into the floor.
"Oh, miss! Are you okay?!" the broker suddenly got a hold over your body. "Oh! It seems you aren't feeling well! Let me escort you to you room!"
Room? You barely discerned what happened when he led you out of the crowd. Your head spun terribly, and then suddenly throbbed, making you clutch it and cry out in pain, "Ah!"
It didn't make sense, no matter how you saw it. You had a pretty good tolerance, so for you to get hungover from a gin was just—
“Oh, does it hurt much?” he suddenly asked in your ear, making you shiver. “Don’t worry... it'll be bearable soon enough... I’ll make sure you will feel good…”
It's him! You realized. He spiked your drink!
His arms were now locking yours, steering you to go into the elevator. You took a deep breath before directing your speech manipulation evol on him— "Let go!"
He was immediately jerked away from you, but as a result, you almost crumpled, your vision swimming and your head pounding intensely. The pain made you feel close to passing out, and yet you managed to trek forward, leaning on the wall for support.
You had to get away from him before he could catch up to you. Panic set in, and when strong arms caught you, you convulsed, thinking he had grabbed you—
“Stop thrashing!”
“S-Sylus...?” You looked up, trying to focus on his face, but everything was so blurry.
“I’m here.” His voice was ragged, and you’d recognize it anywhere. “What happened to you? Are you hurt?”
“M-my head...” Your voice came out as a broken whimper, clutching at your throbbing head. “Hurts...”
You were feverish, trembling against his hold, and you reeked of alcohol. Sylus instantly realized something was seriously wrong and pressed your head into his chest to provide comfort. “Just a little bit longer—” his deep voice carried a subtle hint of alarm as he hoisted you up to his arms. “Hang on, alright?”
But just as he was about to bring you back, he caught the sight of a fleeing silhouette in the corner, and realizing who it was, his right eye blazed, black and red mist swirled in the air and restrained the broker, engulfing his screams.
“S-spare me! P-please!” the man pleaded tearfully, pinned on the ground, and Sylus approached him silently, looking down at him with so much spite in his eyes.
“A roach that doesn’t seem to know his place…” The corners of his lips twisted into a sadistic smile. “Whether you survive or not depends on you. Best hope you’ll last.”
Despite his pleas, he paid it no mind as he walked away with you in his arms.
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When you awakened, your head was no longer pounding.
It took you a moment to realize there was a cool compress on your forehead, you were now in a clean oversized sweater, and someone was holding your hand.
Sylus. You looked up to find him asleep, sitting with his back against the headboard beside you. It was rare to catch him sleeping. In this moment, he looked defenseless, yet a faint frown lingered on his handsome face.
Has he been waiting for you like this, holding your hand all night...?
You tried to get a better look at him, but the rustle seemed to wake him up instead, as his eyes cracked open.
“You awake?” he asked, voice so sultry it woke all your senses up. “I was just shutting my eyes.”
“Aren’t you uncomfortable sleeping like that?” you asked.
Sylus turned toward you, his eyes still hazy from sleep. “What about you? Feeling better?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair gently.
“Really, you...” His stare was so withering it made question marks appear in your head. “I took my eyes off you for one minute, and you ended up with alcohol poisoning?”
“—? I didn’t know! But wait, what happened to that bozo?”
Sylus gave you a deadpan look, and you gasped. “You… didn’t kill him and have his body secretly disposed of, did you?”
“Just who do you think I am?”
“…a kingpin of an illegal syndicate?”
Your lover’s scowl deepened further at your response. “Nah, he got lucky. I only returned him with a broken jaw, broken hips, and two missing teeth.”
“Sylus!”
If he looked sleepy before, now he definitely looked wide awake. Sylus always sleeps at dawn, and you wanted him to rest more than anything, but now you were itching to ask him...
“Say... were you waiting for me while sitting like this too when I wasn’t conscious for three weeks?” You avoided his gaze, the question burning on your lips. Sylus had never given you a straight answer whenever you asked him about this.
This time too, he grumbled, “Why do you keep asking that?”
“Because I can’t ask Luke and Kieran, they look as if you’d set them on fire.”
Sylus went silent, not giving you any affirmation at all, and you huffed and unclasped his hand, pursing your lips together. “I see. You don’t care about me at all. Noted.”
You heard him sigh, before his red eyes squarely landed on you.
“When I was shot, you worried about me even when you know I’m going to be alright,” he suddenly posed the question on you. “Didn’t you?”
You nodded, and he tousled your hair again—the action alone somehow made you feel warm.
“Whatever you felt that day, that’s the same to what I went through during those three weeks. Multiply it by ten.”
“Huh!?” you rose up from the sheets in surprise, facing him.
Sylus then turned away from you, crossing his arms and shutting his eyes. “That’s it, sweetie. I’m going back to sleep now.”
“Wait!”
You scrambled into his lap, clinging to his shoulder. Sylus begrudgingly opened his eyes again, a look of irritation on his face. “What?”
Multiply it by ten…? Heh. At this moment, you felt light and giddy, knowing that the two of you were now true lovers in every way that mattered even when you were faced with his sourness.
“Don't scowl too much!” you giggled merrily. You placed your fingers on the corners of his lips, gently lifting them to force a smile. “Honesty suits you much better, Sylus. It’s recommended.”
This cheeky woman... Sylus never thought the day would come for him to experience these myriad of emotions, much less for them to be incited by you.
He pulled you close, one arm around your hips and the other around the back of your head. Your lips met his in a passionate kiss that left no room for further conversation, only parting when you both needed to catch your breath.
“If you want me to, then don’t make me relive those nights,” he said with a sly smile, his crimson eyes glinting in the light and his voice like silk against your ears. “Can you?”
His tone softened your gaze, a warm sensation spreading through your chest. You responded with a playful snort, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him another peck on the lips.
After your innocent make-out session, you nestled closer to him with a contented sigh, savoring the reassuring warmth of his embrace as you both drifted off again into the morning.
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Epilogue
"Do you hear anything?"
"No, nothing..."
Luke and Kieran whispered amongst themselves as they tried to hear anything of importance beyond Sylus' bedroom. After their boss went back home with you passed out in his arms last night, they had totally expected the worst.
“Seems like she’s alright then…” Kieran concluded, stepping away from the door. “We should just go. If Boss catches us, we’re dead.”
The twins backed away from the door and went back to the living room, sighing in relief.
"But honestly, Boss has changed lately, hasn't he? He looks kinder, somehow."
"Are you sure, Luke? Maybe it's just when he looks at the missus. With us, meh."
“I still get chills thinking about when he destroyed the Protofield to dust after he found her following the explosion,” Luke gazed off in wonder. “It was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, but it was also heartbreaking—especially when he tried to wake her and realized she was beyond help because the steel had pierced her heart…”
Luke and Kieran went quiet at the memory.
“Anyhow!” Kieran suddenly exclaimed. “All’s well that ends well! To be honest, I totally saw it coming that they'd end up together!”
“Ooh, you're right! They did a bad job of hiding it too, no less! I mean, one time, the missus came out of his room while—”
As the twins gossiped about their master and mistress, they were unaware that Mephisto the crow, perched nearby, was dutifully recording their conversation and would report it all to his master later.
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alana-reid-2005 · 4 months ago
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we all joke about and objectify this man, but do we stop to think how sad his story is? he grew up friendless and ruthlessly bullied for being a literal genius. constantly picked on by his coworkers, and he’s never in on the joke. he’s always being laughed at, never laughed with because no one understands his existentialist humor. he never has plans or places to go on the weekend after work. he goes to work then goes to his lonely home with all his books to keep him company. on occasion, he haunts the chess table at the park or meets with an old professor. no one takes the time to appreciate his weird little quirks. no one took the time to ask him if he was okay after the several traumatic incidents he endured. no one takes care of him because everyone’s too busy leaving. he could be a male model, yet he’s never thought of himself as attractive. when he does find love, he’s brutally stripped of it before he can blink. spencer reid, the lonely genius who learned of love too late and loss too soon.
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nanaslutt · 1 month ago
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texting them one final time before you die on a mission
ʚ incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna, higuruma, shiu, ino, shoko, uraume, ijichi
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ʚ cont: pure angst + no comfort
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ ࿔
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unceeled · 2 months ago
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nanami kento never intended for your relationship to be the first page of his newest journal. he didn't even notice when he began documenting it with a black ink pen in a plain leather notebook—writing down the moment you finally agreed to be his, as if you hadn’t been smitten by him from the first time you laid eyes on him.
each passing page became a piece of you. his dilemma on buying you flowers filled the 14th page, and by the 34th, there was a polaroid of you holding your favorite flowers—this time, he knew with confidence. your trips together occupied a few more pages, and even more were dedicated to the places he dreamed of taking you. from losses to love, nanami wrote it all down. it was his best way of keeping you—of keeping what you shared. he wanted your love to remain forever, not only in his heart but also in his hands.
when the wedding bells finally rang and he wore a suit unlike his usual ones, nanami kento stood before you, journal in hand. he read from it, a love documented from the beginning to what felt like the end of the beginning. his vows were written as though he'd known all along that he would marry you. but no, his journal didn’t just record the start of your relationship or the journey leading up to that day.
what nanami kento had not expected was that he would end up documenting your entire story.
as he began the last page with your name, followed by a comma, he wrote down everything he planned for your future together—plans he wanted to set in motion as soon as he returned from his mission. plans he would have given to you immediately after.
"let me take you to malaysia?"
you read over and over again, desperately hoping for more to follow, for another page to turn. but there were no more words. no more pages. and nanami’s voice, his presence, would no longer carry past this page.
yet, it’s hard to be angry with him. because, in the end, nanami was always a gentleman. whether knowingly or not, he left you one final letter—a letter filled with love, just like every page in his journal. because maybe, just maybe, the journal wasn’t for him to keep your love. maybe it was for you to keep his—not only in your heart but in your hands, after all.
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021894s · 2 months ago
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TANGLED DESIRES- p.sh
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PAIRING: enemy!sunghoon x f!reader
SYNOPSIS: At a prestigious private school, you and Park Sunghoon are locked in a constant rivalry. During a party at your friend Karina’s, a heated argument between you two escalates into an unexpected, passionate encounter. The next morning, you wake up in his arms, forcing both of you to confront the new, complicated tension between you. As you navigate the fallout and shifting feelings, you start to question if your biggest enemy might actually be something much more.
GENRE: enemies to lovers, rich kids au
WARNINGS: smut (unprotected sex, oral sex) rivalry, hurt feelings, angst. ALL ARE OF AGE
wc: 15.4k
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You attend the most prestigious school in Korea, where the sky-high tuition fees are only accessible to those born into pure wealth. This elite institution is a playground for the richest families, and your name is synonymous with success. Your family, being the owners of one of Korea’s top corporations, you seem to have everything at your fingertips—a glamorous life of luxury, an enviable social circle, and endless opportunities.
To the outside world, you’re the quintessential rich girl: impeccably stylish, effortlessly popular, and seemingly flawless. Yet beneath this polished veneer lies a different reality. Despite your privileged upbringing, you’re kind-hearted, fiercely intelligent, and deeply dedicated to everything you do. Your friend group, including Jake, Jay, Heeseung, Sunoo, Niki, Jungwon, Yuna, and Karina, forms a close-knit circle that navigates the pressures of their world together.
But there’s always been one glaring exception: Park Sunghoon. The feud between the two of you is infamous, an unspoken tension that pulses beneath the surface of your otherwise harmonious friendships. No one really knows how it started, and no one seems to care enough to unravel it. Instead, everyone just tolerates your constant bickering.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
The lunch table is alive with conversation, the usual chatter amplified by the excitement of the latest gossip. Karina sits comfortably beside Heeseung, leaning into him with an easy confidence that only she can pull off. She’s in the middle of talking about her parents’ latest venture—something about opening another resort somewhere exotic—when she casually drops the bomb.
“So, they’re gone for the whole weekend,” she says, her voice loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. “And you know what that means…”
Jake perks up immediately, his eyes bright. “Party?”
Karina grins. “Obviously. Saturday night, my place. No theme this time, just show up and bring your best energy.”
Yuna claps her hands in excitement. “Finally! It’s been forever since the last one. I was starting to forget what a real party looks like.”
Jay laughs. “As if you’d ever forget. You practically live for these things.”
Yuna sticks her tongue out at him, but her smile doesn’t waver. “Guilty as charged.”
Heeseung wraps an arm around Karina’s shoulders, looking amused. “You’re not worried about your parents finding out?”
She rolls her eyes. “Please, they won’t even notice. And even if they do, what’s the worst that could happen? They’ll just buy me something to make up for being gone.”
“Must be nice,” Niki mutters, leaning back in his chair.
Sunoo nudges him with a grin. “Oh, come on, don’t act like you’re not excited. You were the first one to ask about the music last time.”
Niki shrugs, but he can’t hide his smile. “Yeah, well, only if it’s not Sunghoon’s terrible playlist again.”
You glance across the table, catching Sunghoon’s eye. He’s lounging back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “My playlist was fine, thank you very much,” he retorts. “It’s not my fault you have no taste.”
You snort. “Please, Sunghoon, your taste in music is as bad as your taste in everything else.”
He looks over at you, eyebrow raised. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
You shrug, feigning innocence. “Nothing, just that your definition of ‘good’ is highly questionable.”
He chuckles, the sound low and irritatingly smug. “Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Karina cuts in, sensing the rising tension. “Alright, let’s not turn this into another one of your little spats. Save it for the party, okay?”
Sunghoon smirks, still looking at you. “Looking forward to it already.”
You roll your eyes but can’t resist shooting back, “Don’t get too excited, I might just ignore you all night.”
“Oh, the horror,” he replies, his voice dripping with mock terror. “How will I ever survive?”
Jay laughs, nudging Jake. “You know, one day they might actually get along.”
Jake shakes his head, grinning. “Nah, where’s the fun in that?”
Karina steers the conversation back to the party details, running through a list of essentials while Heeseung nods along, offering suggestions. “Invite whoever you want,” she says, “oh except luci, last time I caught her giving mark head in my parents bedroom, I haven’t been able to go in there since.”
You laugh and nod in agreement, trying not to notice how Sunghoon is still watching you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you wonder what’s going through his head, but then you push the thought away. Whatever it is, it’s probably nothing you need to worry about.
Karina claps her hands, bringing the attention back to her. “So, everyone’s in?”
There’s a chorus of agreement, and the table erupts into a mix of laughter and excited chatter as plans start to form. You glance over at Sunghoon one more time, catching his eye for a brief second before looking away. This party is already shaping up to be interesting… and you have a feeling that’s an understatement.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
The lunch buzz still lingers in your ears as the group makes its way back across the pristine campus grounds. The sunlight reflects off the sleek, modern architecture of the school’s main building, and you can’t help but admire the way everything here seems to sparkle—like even the bricks and mortar are aware of the school's prestige.
You find yourself walking beside Karina, who’s still chatting excitedly about the party, while Heeseung stays close, throwing in a comment or two. Yuna and Sunoo are a few steps ahead, their heads bent together as they giggle over something on Sunoo’s phone. You catch Jake and Jay trailing behind, still debating something about sports cars or the best summer destinations.
Just as you’re about to reach the entrance, you feel a presence beside you. You don’t need to turn your head to know who it is; Sunghoon always manages to sidle up to you when you least expect it.
“What, are you following me now?” you ask, not breaking your stride.
He chuckles. “Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself. It just so happens our lockers are in the same direction.”
“Right,” you drawl, rolling your eyes. “Like you don’t go out of your way to annoy me.”
He glances at you, smirk still firmly in place. “Maybe I just like seeing you get all riled up. It’s entertaining.”
You shoot him a glare, but before you can fire back a retort, the group reaches the main hallway. The chatter from the student body fills the air, a mix of excitement and post-lunch drowsiness. The smell of expensive cologne and designer perfumes lingers in the air, an unmistakable signature of the school’s elite.
Karina stops at her locker, Heeseung leaning against it with a casual arm draped over her shoulder. She turns to you, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “So, you’re coming early on Saturday, right? I need a hand setting things up.”
You nod, grateful for the distraction from Sunghoon. “Of course. I’ll be there.”
“Great!” She beams. “And maybe you can help me make sure everything stays under control. You know how things can get with this crowd.”
Heeseung laughs softly. “Good luck with that. I don’t think anyone’s ever managed to keep Sunoo and Niki under control for more than five minutes.”
As if on cue, Sunoo pops up beside you with a grin. “I heard that, Heeseung! I’m an angel, thank you very much.”
Niki appears at his side, raising an eyebrow. “An angel of chaos, maybe.”
The group laughs, and you feel the tension in your shoulders ease. It’s moments like these that make all the bickering and drama feel worth it.
But then, just as you’re about to make another comment, Sunghoon’s voice cuts through the noise. “So, Y/N,” he says casually, “what are you going to wear to the party? Let me guess… something that screams ‘trying too hard’?”
You whip your head around, narrowing your eyes at him. “And what are you planning on wearing, Sunghoon? Something that screams ‘I own everything but a personality’?”
There’s a collective gasp from your friends, followed by a chorus of laughter. Sunghoon raises his eyebrows, feigning a look of hurt. “Ouch, that one actually stung a little. Didn’t know you had it in you.”
You cross your arms, feeling a triumphant smile tug at your lips. “I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Try me.”
He leans in slightly, lowering his voice just enough that only you can hear. “Maybe I will,” he says, his eyes flicking over you in a way that makes your pulse quicken. “But you’re going to have to do better than that if you want to get under my skin.”
You’re about to retort when a voice interrupts. “Can we get through one day without you two turning everything into a competition?” Jay sighs, looking exasperated. “Seriously, it’s exhausting just watching you.”
Jake nods in agreement, though he’s grinning. “You guys need to find a new hobby. Preferably one that doesn’t involve verbal sparring in the middle of the hallway.”
You shrug, unable to resist the urge to keep poking at Sunghoon. “I’m open to suggestions, but I doubt Sunghoon has any better ideas.”
Sunghoon leans back, crossing his arms with a playful smile. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of ideas. But I think you’d be too scared to try them.”
Before you can respond, the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. Karina groans. “Ugh, saved by the bell. I guess we’ll have to pick this up later.”
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
As everyone starts to disperse to their respective classes, Sunghoon gives you one last look, a challenge in his eyes. “Don’t worry, Y/N,” he says smoothly. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
You roll your eyes, but your heart is beating just a little faster. You can’t help but wonder what exactly he’s planning… and why a part of you is actually looking forward to finding out.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
The day of the party arrives with a crisp, clear sky and a hint of excitement that seems to permeate every corner of the city. You wake up early, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervous energy. Karina had texted you the night before, reminding you to come over in the afternoon to help set up for the party. You agreed eagerly, knowing that any opportunity to help would give you something to focus on and take your mind off the strange tension building between you and Sunghoon.
When you arrive at Karina’s mansion, the house is buzzing with activity. Karina’s housekeeper greets you at the door with a warm smile, directing you to the large, open-plan living area where Karina is already busy coordinating the decorations with a small army of helpers. The space is being transformed into a glamorous party venue with twinkling lights, elegant table settings, and a dance floor that looks like it’s straight out of a high-end club.
Karina spots you as soon as you walk in, her face lighting up with relief and excitement. “Y/N! Perfect timing. I’m so glad you’re here. We could use an extra pair of hands.”
You smile, rolling up your sleeves. “What can I do to help?”
Karina hands you a stack of neatly folded napkins and points towards a table covered with party favors. “Start by setting these up on the tables. I want everything to look perfect tonight.”
You get to work, organizing napkins and arranging snack trays, chatting with Karina about the last-minute details. The hours fly by as you work alongside her, the room gradually coming together into a setting that is unmistakably Karina’s style—classy, sophisticated, and just a bit over the top.
As the afternoon drifts into evening, Karina claps her hands and gathers you for a brief break. “Alright, it’s time for a quick change. You’ve been working so hard, and I want you to look as fabulous as the rest of the evening.”
You raise an eyebrow, half-teasing. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
Karina waves her hand dismissively. “you don’t want me to answer that. cmon you’re hot, why not show off a little?”
Before you can protest, Karina ushers you into her bedroom and pulls out a sleek, little black dress from her closet. The dress is short and simple with a cut that accentuates your figure without being too revealing.
“Put this on,” Karina insists, handing you the dress. “Trust me, you’ll look amazing. And don’t worry about the hair and makeup; I’ve got that covered too.”
You change quickly, admiring the way the dress fits and the way it makes you feel more confident and glamorous. When you step out of the room, Karina is waiting with a professional-looking makeup kit and a few hair tools.
As she works on your hair and makeup, she chatters away, filling the room with her usual upbeat energy. “you look sexy”
You smile at her reflection in the mirror. “Thanks, Karina. You don’t think it’s a bit much? It’s definitely more out there than I usually go for”.
Karina beams, finishing up with a final touch of lipstick. “babe there’s no such thing as too much. And who knows, maybe you’ll catch someone eye tonight,” she tells you with a wink.
With a laugh and a final look at yourself in the mirror, you feel a surge of excitement. The dress feels perfect, and the makeup and hair make you look polished and ready for the night. As you head back downstairs, you catch sight of Karina’s smile of approval, and you can’t help but feel a bit more confident about the evening ahead.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
The music starts pumping through the walls as you and Karina make your way back downstairs. The final touches have been set, and the room looks like a scene straight out of a teen movie: fairy lights strung up in every corner, a couple of disco balls catching the light just right, and a dance floor that practically begs people to let loose. Karina surveys everything with a grin that stretches from ear to ear.
“See?” she says, nudging you with her elbow. “This is why I always go all out.”
You chuckle, glancing around. “Okay, okay, you were right. This does look kind of amazing.”
The doorbell rings, and Karina practically bounces on her toes. “That must be the first guests! Come on, we have to greet everyone in style.”
The two of you rush to the front door, and soon enough, your friends start streaming in. Sunoo is the first to arrive, with Niki and Jungwon right behind him. They all look ready to have the best night ever, and Sunoo immediately zeroes in on you, his eyes going wide.
“Oh. My. God. Y/N!” Sunoo exclaims dramatically, clutching his chest. “Look at you in that little black dress! Who is she?!”
You roll your eyes, fighting back a grin. “Alright, Sunoo, calm down. It’s just a dress.”
“It’s not just a dress,” Niki interjects with a grin. “It’s the dress. Who are you trying to impress tonight?”
Jungwon nudges Niki. “Yeah, spill. Is there someone you’re hoping to catch the eye of?”
You smirk, crossing your arms. “Oh, please, like I’d tell you guys even if there was.”
More of your friends arrive, and soon the room is buzzing with chatter and laughter. Jake and Jay show up not long after, both of them effortlessly cool as always. Jay immediately gets to work DJ-ing from his phone, while Jake heads to the makeshift bar, already concocting a round of mixed drinks.
Then, just as you start to relax, you see him—Park Sunghoon. He steps in, looking annoyingly good in a casual black button-down and jeans. His eyes scan the room until they find you. For a split second, he looks almost surprised, but then his trademark smirk appears.
“Well, well,” Sunghoon says as he strolls over to you, hands casually shoved into his pockets. “Look who decided to play dress-up. You got a hot date tonight or something?”
You scoff, giving him a look. “Oh, please, Sunghoon. Unlike you, I don’t have to try so hard to impress everyone.”
Sunghoon chuckles, leaning in just slightly. “Right. Because you just show up looking like that for fun?”
Before you can shoot back a retort, Karina swoops in, looping her arm through yours. “Hey, Sunghoon, quit being a troll. Y/N looks amazing, and you know it. Now go get a drink and try to be nice for once!”
He holds up his hands, his grin widening. “Alright, alright, I’ll behave... for now.”
You watch as he saunters off to join Jake at the bar, and Karina gives you a knowing look. “Don’t let him get under your skin tonight, okay?”
You nod, trying to brush it off, even though you’re still buzzing from his teasing. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
The party is in full swing now—music thumping, people laughing, and the lights twinkling overhead like stars. You find yourself swept up in the fun, moving from one conversation to the next, the earlier tension with Sunghoon momentarily forgotten. You’re by the snack table, popping a few chips into your mouth when Haechan sidles up next to you with his signature grin.
“Hey, Y/N,” he says smoothly, leaning in a little closer than necessary. “Looking good tonight. That dress is seriously working for you.”
You smile at him, amused by his blatant flirting. “Thanks, Haechan. You’re not looking too bad yourself,” you reply, playing along. He’s always been a harmless flirt, and you don’t mind the attention tonight.
He grins wider, clearly pleased. “I try. But seriously, I can’t believe I’m just now noticing how stunning you are. Were you hiding this whole time or just waiting for the perfect moment to make your grand entrance?”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, you know me. Always dramatic,” you joke, and he chuckles, leaning in a bit more.
“You’re full of surprises, Y/N. Makes me want to know you better,” he says, his voice dropping slightly, and you can’t help but laugh at his over-the-top delivery.
What you don’t notice is that from across the room, Sunghoon has been watching the entire interaction with a growing frown. He’s leaning against a wall, a drink in hand, his eyes narrowing as he watches Haechan lean closer to you, flashing that charming smile. His jaw tightens, and his grip on the cup becomes visibly tighter.
Heeseung, who’s been standing beside him, follows his line of sight and notices the tense look on his friend’s face. A knowing grin spreads across Heeseung’s lips as he leans over to Sunghoon, nudging him with his elbow.
“Someone looks like they’ve got their feathers ruffled,” Heeseung teases, keeping his voice low so only Sunghoon can hear.
Sunghoon scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m fine.”
“Sure,” Heeseung laughs. “That’s why you’ve been glaring at Haechan like you’re ready to knock that grin off his face.”
Sunghoon doesn’t respond right away, but his eyes remain fixed on you and Haechan. Heeseung watches with amusement, clearly enjoying the show.
“Just admit it, man,” Heeseung continues, his tone light. “You’re jealous.”
Sunghoon finally looks away from you, giving Heeseung a dismissive look. “I’m not jealous. I just don’t like seeing him act like a fool.”
Heeseung snorts. “Right. Because you’re so worried about Haechan embarrassing himself.” He claps a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder. “Come on, dude, just go talk to her. Or are you afraid she’ll turn you down?”
Sunghoon shoots him a glare. “Shut up, Heeseung.”
Heeseung just laughs harder, clearly unbothered by Sunghoon’s mood. “Alright, whatever you say. But just so you know, glaring at Haechan isn’t going to do anything except make you look more obvious.”
Sunghoon doesn’t answer, but Heeseung’s words seem to hit a nerve. He turns his attention back to you, his expression unreadable, though there’s still a flicker of something in his eyes—something more than just casual interest.
Meanwhile, you’re still chatting with Haechan, completely unaware of the little drama unfolding across the room. But you can’t shake the feeling that someone’s watching you, and when you finally glance up, your eyes meet Sunghoon’s for just a second. He quickly looks away, and you can’t help but wonder what that was all about.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
The party continues to buzz around you, but after a while, the noise and energy start to feel a bit overwhelming. You decide you need a break, a moment to yourself away from the chaos. Without saying anything, you slip out of the crowded living room and head toward the balcony, where the air is cooler and the music is just a muffled hum in the background.
You push open the glass doors and step outside, letting the crisp night air hit your face. It’s a welcome change from the warmth inside. You lean against the railing, taking a deep breath, trying to clear your mind. The stars are faint above the city lights, and you can hear distant sounds of traffic, a reminder of the world continuing outside this little bubble of a party.
You close your eyes for a moment, just enjoying the quiet. But then, you hear the soft sound of footsteps behind you. You turn, half-expecting to see Karina or maybe Sunoo, but your heart skips a beat when you see Sunghoon stepping out onto the balcony.
“What do you want, Sunghoon?” you sigh, not bothering to hide your annoyance.
“I could ask you the same thing” he replies, his voice closer than you expected. You feel the warmth of his body behind you, jus inches away. “Running away from the party?”
”Hardly.” You glance over your shoulder at him. “Just needed a break from all the fakes and liars inside.”
His lips curl into that familiar, infuriating smirk. “And here I thought you thrived on that type of thing. Who knew Y/N had limits?”
You roll tour eyes, turning back to the view. “Yeah, well, believe it or not I do. But you wouldn’t know anything, would you?”
Sunghoon steps closer, his breath brushing against your ear, sending an unwanted shiver down your spine. You feel a rush of heat flood your cheeks and something else you refuse to acknowledge. “You don’t know anything about me, Sunghoon. And id keep it that way if I were you.”
He laughs, a deep, rich sound that makes your skin prickle. “I think you like it when I get under your skin. Why else do you always react like this?” You scoff, turning to face him, only then realizing how close he actually was. “Maybe i’m just tired of you acting like you’re gods gift to the world. newsflash: you’re not.”
His grin widens, and he takes another step closer, invading you’re space entirely as if he wasn’t already to begin with. “Admit it.” he says, his voice dropping lower. “You like our little games. You like the way I push your buttons.”
Your heart is pounding now, and you hate that he’s right, that there’s something about him that gets to you in a way no one else does.But you refuse to five him the satisfaction of knowing it. “In your dreams,” you snap, though the breathlessness in your voice betrays you.
He reaches out, his fingers brushing your arm, and you feel a jolt of heat at the contact. “Is that so?” he whispers, his lips dangerously close to yours now, his eyes dark with challenge. “Because I think you’re lying. I think you want this as much as I do.”
Your breath hitches, and for a moment, you’re frozen, caught in his gaze. The intensity in his eyes makes your pulse race, a mix of anger and undeniable attraction. He’s so close now that you can feel his breath your lips, and before you can stop yourself, you grab his shirt, pulling him the last few inches towards you.
“Maybe I just want to shut you up,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper. “Then do it,” he taunts, his lips brushing against yours, almost but not quite a kiss. It’s all the encouragement you need. You close the distance, your mouth crashing against his. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, and you press against him, fueled by a mix of anger and desire.
The kiss is intense, a battle of wills as much as it is anything else. His lips are firm, demanding, and you meet him with equal force, neither of you willing to give an inch. Your hands move up to his hair, tugging slightly and he groans against your mouth, deepening the kiss.
You’re lost in it. Lost in him, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. His hands slide up your back, his touch sending sparks through you, and you hate how much you crave it, hate how much you want him despite everything.
You’re breathless when you finally pull back, your heart hammering against your ribs. Sunghoon’s lips are parted, his breaths coming in ragged, and his eyes are dark with something dangerous—something you know you shouldn’t be entertaining.
His hand is still on your waist, his thumb brushing the exposed skin just beneath the hem of your shirt, and you swear every nerve in your body is on fire. He leans in close, his lips grazing your ear, and his voice comes out in a low, almost pleading murmur. “Come back to my place.”
It isn’t a question, but there’s something in his tone that sends a shiver down your spine, a combination of hunger and desperation that mirrors what’s coursing through your veins. For a moment, you’re tempted—so, so tempted to just say yes and give in to whatever this is. But logic fights its way to the surface, and you pull back just enough to meet his gaze.
“Are you serious?” you ask, your voice wavering more than you’d like.
His expression doesn’t falter, his eyes locked onto yours. “Dead serious.” He swallows, his grip on your waist tightening, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “I don’t want this to end here.”
You hesitate, your mind racing. This is Sunghoon—Park Sunghoon—the guy you’ve spent so long arguing with, glaring at across rooms, doing everything in your power to avoid. But there’s something different about the way he’s looking at you now, something raw and real that makes it hard to think clearly.
“I don’t know,” you say, trying to sound firm, though your resolve is crumbling by the second. “I mean… this is crazy.”
“Maybe,” he agrees, his voice still low, still laced with that edge of desperation. “But I think you like crazy.” His lips curl into a half-smile, that familiar cockiness tempered with something else, something softer.
You bite your lip, weighing your options, feeling the tension between you both—hot, magnetic, impossible to ignore. “This is a bad idea,” you whisper, though even you can hear the lack of conviction in your words.
Sunghoon steps closer, closing the distance again, his forehead almost touching yours. “Probably the worst,” he says, his breath hot against your skin. “But if you don’t say yes, I’m going to lose my mind.”
You can feel his heartbeat through his shirt, can feel how fast it’s racing, and you know he means it. Part of you is screaming to walk away, to leave now before you make a mistake, but there’s another part—a louder, more reckless part—that’s screaming for you to stay, to see where this goes.
“Just one night,” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours again, barely a kiss, just enough to make you shiver. “No strings, no expectations. Just… us.”
You close your eyes, fighting against every instinct telling you to run. But when you open them again, his gaze is still locked onto yours, and you can’t deny the heat pooling in your stomach, the way your skin tingles with every touch.
“Fine,” you breathe, barely louder than a whisper. “One night.”
His grin is immediate, but there’s relief in it too, and he closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours again, this time harder, more insistent. “Let’s get out of here,” he says against your mouth, his hand sliding to intertwine with yours, and you know there’s no going back now.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
You manage to sneak past your friends to leave Karina’s mansion, the partygoers and scattered distractions making it all that more simple.
The drive is quiet, both of you caught in your own thoughts. The city passes by in a blur of neon signs and headlights, the streets quieter than they were earlier. You steal a glance at him, watching the way his jaw clenches, the way his fingers tap against the wheel like he’s counting down the seconds.
Sunghoon pulls up to his mansion, its sprawling, modern architecture framed by towering trees and high walls that ensure absolute privacy. The wide driveway curves up to the grand entrance, where soft lights cast a warm glow over the marble steps and tall double doors. You glance around, taking in the sheer size of the place—not because it surprises you, but because you’ve never been here before.
Your own family’s estate is nothing to scoff at, but there’s a distinct style to his home—something sleek and almost understated, despite its size. You tilt your head slightly, noticing the details: the way the garden is meticulously maintained, the sharp lines of the building softened by the greenery that surrounds it. It’s impressive, in a way that’s different from what you’re used to.
He takes your hand to lead you inside, you follow him down the dimly lit corridor, decorated with family pictures and modern art that costs a fortune. He pauses at his bedroom door, his hand still holding yours, and turns to look at you one more time. “Last chance to change your mind,” he murmurs, though his thumb strokes the back of your hand, a comforting gesture.
You take a deep breath, then shake your head. “I’m not changing my mind.”
A small smile tugs at his lips. “Good,” he whispers, unlocking the door and pushing it open.
You step inside, and he follows, closing the door behind you. The space is dimly lit, warm, and there’s an unexpected coziness to it—minimalistic but comfortable. The air feels thick with everything unspoken between you.
Sunghoon turns to you, his gaze intense, and he steps closer, his hand moving up to your face, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he admits quietly, his voice almost a growl.
Your breath catches, and you feel the heat rush to your face. “Then stop talking,” you murmur, your own voice breathless.
His lips are on yours in an instant, capturing your mouth in a kiss that’s all-consuming, filled with all the tension, the want, the frustration that’s been building for so long. You kiss him back just as fiercely, hands sliding up his chest, feeling his heartbeat pounding beneath your palms.
Sunghoon's hands roamed over your body, squeezing your tits. You let out a small involuntary moan, a grunt leaving him immediately after. His lips move down to your next, trailing up and down before reaching that sweet spot right behind your ear.
It all feels to fucking good, your panties sticking to your core. He moves to sit on the edge of his bed, pulling you into his lap before catching your lips once again. His growing hardness is poking at you. “You look so fucking sexy in this little dress,” He tells you in a low tone that makes you clench around nothing, the ache between your legs growing. You start grinding on him, his hands grabbing your ass, encouraging you to keep grinding against his clothed length. “That’s it baby, grind on me, keep rubbing that pretty pussy over my cock.”
Your head is thrown back, lip in between your teeth, his words encouraging your quickening movements. “Need you so bad, Hoon,” you manage to get out.
“Yeah baby? tell me what you need.” He tells you. It’s almost embarrassing how much you wanted him. “Need your cock.” Without another word you feel his hands back on your ass, lifting you up and throwing you down on his bed. He looks up at you with mischievious eyes, hovering over you as his hands roam down the sides of your thighs to them hem of your dress. “Can i take this off?” he asks, caressing the soft, exposed skin there.
Eagerly, you nod quickly, reaching for the hem to help him pull it up and over your head. Luckily you opted for a pair of black lacy panties and opposed to your more comfortable ones. He audibly sighs and your exposed figure, “You’re so beautiful,” He tells you, his fingers working to slide your panties down your legs and tossing them to the side, revealing just how much you wanted him.
“Shit baby you’re so wet.” He leans down, placing soft, wet kisses just below your navel, dangerously close to where you wanted him most. “Hoon please,” you murmur out. He straightens out, unbuckling his belt to pull down his pants and boxers all in one go. While he wasn’t remarkably long, he made up for it in girth. You lick your lips at the sight, anticipation and heat pooling.
He pumps himself a couple times before he’s lining himself up with your entrance. He takes his time, making sure to smear your slick between your clit and his length. You feel his tip parting your folds, your breath hitching in your throat. “You ready?” his eyes meet yours for assurance. No words come out your mouth, all you do is nod.
He enters you carefully, a strong contrast from his words earlier in the night. The last thing he wants is to rush, just because of how unpatient and horny he is. You close your eyes, holding in the gasp that threatens to escape your lips. “Relax baby, I got you.”
“I know,” you breathe out. The sudden stretch has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. The burn quickly turning into a delicious one. “That’s it,” he praises you continuing to slide in until he’s nestled completely between your walls. “You take me so well,” he grunts, his length twitching inside of you.
“Fuck me, Hoon” you murmur, your walls clench around him, throwing his head back at the feeling. Before you know it he’s pulling out of you, only to smack his hips back against yours. It knocks all the oxygen out your lungs, leaving you breathless as he repeats the same action over and over again. “Fuck,” you breathe out, focusing on how good he looks above you.
You’re in a complete feeling of euphoria. Sunghoon’s skills topping those of the few guys you’ve slept with before. In that moment, all the bickering and years of back and forth leave your mind completely. The only thing closing your mind is how good him of all people is making you feel.
“Hoon… faster,” you let out, his hips snapping in a faster pace on command. Your back arches off the bed, hands grasping the sheets in small fists. He notices and reaches for them to thread his fingers through yours, pinning them above your head. “You like that baby? love how good you feel… fuck you’re so tight. Gonna make you cum so hard.”
“I’m so c-close, fuck,” you breathe out. His thrusts become messier and you know he’s close. “Cum on my cock pretty,” he grunts, hands letting go of yours to grip your hips. Clenching around him, it takes a few for pumps before you’re both coming undone. His cock twitching inside you as he fucks his cum into you.
He drops his sweaty forehead against your shoulder, quick, deep breaths meeting your skin and he comes down from his high. It takes you both a while before your breathing steadys. “You good?,” he asks you, settling on the bed beside you. “mhm,” is all you say in response, unsure as to where this leaves your relationship. It all felt to good to ignore. “Are you good?” you ask him after a moment of silence. “Better than I have in a long time.”
You’re not sure when you fall asleep. The exhaustion taking over you all at once.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
The morning light filters softly through the heavy curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. You wake to the sound of birds chirping outside, their songs a peaceful contrast to the intensity of the night before. The bed is warm, and you’re nestled comfortably under the covers, Sunghoon’s arm draped over you.
You shift slightly, the movement causing Sunghoon to stir beside you. He mumbles something incoherent, tightening his hold on you before settling back into a deeper sleep. You take a moment to just lie there, letting yourself absorb the strange, surreal comfort of the situation. There’s an odd serenity in the room, a calm that feels almost unreal given the whirlwind of emotions that led you here.
As you slowly become more aware, you gently untangle yourself from his embrace, careful not to wake him. You sit up and stretch, glancing around at the elegant room that’s now your temporary sanctuary. The soft morning light highlights the sleek lines and modern decor, giving the space an almost ethereal quality.
You slide out of bed and make your way to the bathroom, feeling a little self-conscious but determined to gather yourself. You glance at yourself in the mirror, trying to process the whirlwind of the past night. The evidence of sleep lingers in your eyes, and you smooth your hair, mentally preparing yourself for whatever comes next.
When you return to the bedroom, Sunghoon is still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. You take a moment to just watch him, the vulnerability in his expression softened by sleep. There’s a part of you that feels a pang of something—softness, maybe even affection—though you’re still trying to fully understand what it all means.
Deciding not to linger too long, you quietly gather your things and start to get dressed. You’re pulling on your clothes when you hear a rustling behind you. You turn to find Sunghoon blinking awake, his gaze immediately locking on you with a sleepy, yet intense look.
“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.
You smile softly, trying to keep things light despite the previous night's intensity. “Morning. I didn’t want to wake you.”
He stretches lazily, a smirk forming on his lips. “And here I was thinking you’d sneak out before I even woke up. Not very considerate of you, you know.”
You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I was supposed to tiptoe around your mansion.”
He chuckles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Yeah, well, you should be lucky you’re not being kicked out for your unexpected visit.”
You roll your eyes, pulling on your shirt. “Oh, please. It’s not like I forced my way in. You made it pretty clear you wanted me here.”
His smirk widens. “True. And now I’m faced with the charming aftermath of our little escapade. How do you intend to handle that?”
You shrug, trying to keep your tone casual. “I think we both know this doesn’t exactly change things. We still don’t like each other. This was… a one-off.”
Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “A one-off? That’s what we’re calling it now? What happened to all that intense ‘hate’ from last night?”
You narrow your eyes at him, feeling a bit defensive. “It’s complicated. We both know that. I’m just here to sort myself out.”
He stands up, stretching with a yawn. “Well, I suppose if you’re done with the morning-after drama, I should at least make you breakfast.”
You look at him skeptically. “Breakfast? You’re really pulling out the stops now?”
He gives you a mockingly hurt look. “Don’t sound so surprised. Even enemies deserve to be fed after a night like that.”
You smirk, shaking your head. “Fine. Breakfast it is. But don’t think this means I’m sticking around for a whole lot of chit-chat.”
He grins, clearly pleased with your response. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Just a quick meal and then you can be on your way.”
As he leads you to the kitchen, you both fall into a familiar rhythm, trading barbs and jabs that feel almost comfortable in their own way. The awkwardness of the night before is still there, but it’s tempered by the humor and banter that defines your relationship.
In the kitchen, Sunghoon starts pulling out ingredients, his movements confident and efficient. You watch him, feeling a strange mix of irritation and appreciation. Despite everything, there’s something almost endearing about the way he’s trying to play the gracious host.
“So, what’s the plan after breakfast?” you ask, grabbing a coffee cup and filling it. “Are we going to pretend like nothing happened, or do you have some other grand gesture in mind?”
He looks over at you with a smirk. “Maybe I’ll just enjoy the novelty of seeing you eat my food. Consider it a small victory.”
You roll your eyes, but there’s a genuine smile on your lips. “Enjoy it while it lasts. I’m not here for long.”
He chuckles, placing a plate of food in front of you. “Don’t worry, I won’t be offended if you leave right after. I’m sure we’ll find new ways to annoy each other soon enough.”
You take a bite of the breakfast, shaking your head in mock exasperation. “I’ll hold you to that.”
As you eat, the tension from the night before begins to ease, replaced by the familiar dynamic of your interactions. It’s not exactly comfortable, but it’s familiar—a small reminder that despite everything, some things never really change.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
The bell rings, signaling the end of the period, you gather your things and stand up, eager to leave the classroom and escape the strange tension that’s been hanging between you and Sunghoon all day. You’re heading toward the door when you feel a light tap on your shoulder. You turn around to find Sunghoon standing close, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Can I help you?” you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral.
Sunghoon leans in, his face just inches from yours. His breath is warm against your ear, and you can feel his proximity even though you try to back away slightly. “You look cute today,” he whispers, his voice low and deliberately teasing.
You freeze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat as his words sink in. You’re taken aback by the unexpected comment, feeling a rush of irritation mixed with something you can’t quite define. You quickly compose yourself, narrowing your eyes at him.
“Seriously?” you hiss, trying to keep your voice low so that no one else hears. “Now you’re trying to play nice? How pathetic.”
Sunghoon pulls back slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m just making an observation,” he says innocently, though the amusement in his eyes betrays him.
You roll your eyes, your frustration evident. “Yeah, well, save it for someone who actually cares. I’m not in the mood for your games.”
As you turn and walk toward the door, you hear Sunghoon’s laughter behind you, light and mocking. You try to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks as you make your way out of the classroom, determined not to let him get under your skin. Despite your efforts to stay composed, his words linger in your mind, adding to the awkwardness and confusion of the day.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Lunch at school is a lively affair, with the cafeteria buzzing with the chatter of students and the clatter of trays. You and your friends—Yuna, Karina, and the rest—settle into your usual spot at the table. Sunghoon and his group are seated across from you, and you can feel his gaze lingering on you, even as you try to focus on the conversation with your friends.
Karina is mid-sentence, animatedly discussing the latest school gossip when Sunghoon's voice cuts through. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You can't actually believe that nonsense.”
You glance up, catching Sunghoon’s eyes. He’s smirking, clearly enjoying the opportunity to poke at you. “And what’s so ridiculous about it?” you retort, trying to keep your voice steady despite the irritation brewing inside you.
“Seriously?” Sunghoon’s grin widens. “It’s just a bunch of exaggerated stories. You’ve always had a knack for falling for that kind of thing.”
You roll your eyes, feeling a familiar annoyance bubbling up. “Says the guy who’s always spouting off about how everything’s ‘not worth his time.’”
Sunghoon leans back in his chair, folding his arms. “At least I don’t get caught up in every little bit of drama that comes my way.”
You scoff, crossing your arms. “I’m not the one who spends half his day looking for ways to pick fights. Maybe if you weren’t so obsessed with making everything a competition, you’d see things more clearly.”
Yuna and Karina exchange glances, trying to stifle their laughter as the two of you go back and forth. Karina nudges you playfully. “Looks like you two are back to your old routine.”
You shoot her a sidelong glance, annoyed but unable to hide a small smile. “Oh, you have no idea.”
Meanwhile, Sunghoon’s eyes are fixed on you, his smirk never fading. Every time you catch him looking, you feel a mix of frustration and unease. His gaze is unrelenting, and despite your best efforts to ignore it, you can’t help but feel self-conscious.
“What are you staring at?” you snap, catching him in the act.
Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, his expression innocent. “Just observing. Is that a problem?”
You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms. “Maybe if you had something better to do than harass me, you wouldn’t have to be so nosy.”
He chuckles, leaning forward with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Maybe I just enjoy watching you get all riled up. It’s entertaining.”
You glare at him, feeling your irritation spike. “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly a compliment.”
Sunghoon shrugs, still smirking. “Suit yourself.”
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
After lunch, you head to your next class with a sense of relief, hoping to escape the tension of the cafeteria. As you settle into your seat, the classroom buzzes with the usual pre-class chatter. You glance around, hoping to avoid any more interactions with Sunghoon, but he’s in the same class, sitting a few rows behind you.
The teacher arrives, and the room quiets down as the lesson begins. You try to focus on the lecture, but the lingering effects of the lunchtime bickering keep your thoughts scattered. Every now and then, you can feel Sunghoon’s eyes on you, though you avoid turning around to confirm it.
Halfway through the class, you feel a small piece of paper land softly on your desk. You glance down to find a note with neat handwriting:
*“Can we at least pretend to be civil? I promise I’m not plotting your demise.”*
You roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. You scribble a quick reply:
“Why start now? It’s more fun to keep you on your toes.”
You fold the note and toss it back over your shoulder, hoping it will reach him without drawing too much attention. A few moments later, you see Sunghoon’s hand reach forward to grab it, his expression unreadable.
The rest of the class proceeds in a blur of lectures and notes. The occasional glances you and Sunghoon exchange are filled with unspoken tension, but you both manage to keep your interactions to a minimum.
At the end of your lecture, you pack up your things and make your way out of the classroom. You’re heading down the hall when you hear Sunghoon’s voice behind you.
“Hey, wait up.”
You stop, turning to see him catching up with you. He’s wearing a casual expression, though there’s a hint of seriousness in his eyes.
“Seriously? What now?” you ask, trying to keep your tone even.
Sunghoon’s gaze lingers on you, and he seems to consider his next words carefully. “So, I was thinking… why don’t you come over to my place later?”
You raise an eyebrow, puzzled. “For what? We already had our… whatever that was.”
Sunghoon gives you a knowing look, his smirk widening. “Come on, you know you’re curious. Besides, you know you want me.”
You feel a rush of heat at his words, and you try to maintain your composure. “And what happened to it being a one-night thing? Are you trying to make this a regular thing now?”
Sunghoon’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I just want to spend more time with you. Either way, I think you’re interested.”
You hesitate, feeling the pull of his words. The desire that was ignited the night before is still burning strong, and you find yourself tempted despite your better judgment.
With a sigh, you give in, unable to resist the allure of what he’s offering. “Alright, fine. I’ll come over. But just to see what you have in mind.” Sunghoon’s smile broadens, clearly pleased with your decision. “Great. see you later.”
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Later that night, you stand outside Sunghoon’s, house, or rather mansion. With a deep breath, you ring the doorbelll, and a moment later, Sunghoon opens the door. His eyes rake over you, and there’s that cocky familiar smirk on his face. “Youre here,” he says, stepping aside to let you in. There’s no hint of surprise, just a kind of smug statisfaction, like he knew you’d come.
“Yeah,” you reply, stepping inside “so what’s this all about?” Sunghoon doesn’t answer immediately. He just walks past you, heading into the foyer. You follow, your curiosity piqued, but you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker back to you with that same intent look. He turns around suddenly, before you can even process what’s happening, he’s closing the distance between you, leaning in like he’s about to kiss you.
“Woah wait,” you say quickly, pressing a hand against him firm chest to stop him. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Sunghoon pauses, eyebrows raised, but there’s no real apology in his expression. “What do you think in doing?” he counters, his voice low, almost daring him to challenge you. You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing. “I didn’t come here just to… you know.”
He smirks, leaning in just enough that you feel the warmth of his breath. “Then why did you come here?”
You hesitate, caught between wanting to play it cool and the undeniable pull you feel toward him. “Maybe I was curious.” Sunghoon chuckles, “You’re here because you want this, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his hand grazing your hip lightly, testing your boundaries.
You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure. “You think you know everything, don’t you?”
His smirk widens. “I know enough.” He leans in again, and this time, his lips brush against your neck, a bold move that sends a jolt of heat through you. You bite your lip, figuring the urge to melt into his touch. “I didn’t say you could—“
“Then stop me,” he challenges, his voice a whisper against your skin. Your mind races every logical thought battling against the desire that’s been simmering between you since the other night. You hate how easily he gets under your skin, how is arrogance is both infuriating and strangely alluring. But instead of pushing him away, you find yourself lingering, testing the r limits just like he is.
“You’re infuriating,” you mutter, half annoyed, half breathless. He pulls back just enough to look you in the eye, his expression smug but hungry. “Yet I don’t see you walking away.”
You hate that he’s right. Instead of anything else, you meet his gaze head on, feeling that dangerous spark between you flicker into something more. “Just shut up and kiss me,” you say, finally giving in, if only to wipe that smug look off his face. And he does—without hesitation, with the kind of intensity that makes your head spin. It’s heated, unrestrained, and nothing like you imagined, and yet somehow it’s exactly what you wanted.
With a frustrated sigh, you put a hand on his chest and push him back a step. “Okay, seriously, what is this?” you demand, trying to keep your tone steady. “We can’t just keep… doing this whenever we feel like it. It’s stupid.”
He raises an eyebrow, looking way too amused for your liking. “Why not? You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”
You shoot him a glare. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just… I don’t want this to get messy.”
He smirks, clearly entertained by your struggle. “Messy? You mean you don’t want people to know you like kissing me?”
You scoff, crossing your arms. “I don’t like anything about you, Sunghoon. But if we’re being honest, there’s… something here, and I don’t see it going away anytime soon.”
His grin widens, and you want to slap it right off his face. “So, what? You’re proposing a deal?”
You roll your eyes. “Maybe. Friends with benefits. No strings attached, no drama, no catching feelings.”
Sunghoon chuckles, but there’s an edge to it. “Friends? I don’t think we’re even close to that.”
“Fine,” you snap, annoyed that he’s right. “Enemies with benefits then. Just… an arrangement. To get this out of our systems.”
His gaze darkens, and for a second, you think you see something flicker there, something unreadable. But then he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “And what makes you think I’d agree to that?”
You raise your chin, meeting his challenge head-on. “Because you want this just as much as I do. Maybe more.”
He pauses, his lips curling into a slow, wicked smile. “Okay, I’ll bite,” he says, his voice low. “But here’s the deal: we do this my way. No whining, no complaining, and you definitely don’t get to pretend you don’t want it.”
You scowl, hating how cocky he looks, how certain he is that you’ll cave. “Fine,” you bite back. “But don’t think for a second that this means I like you.”
He laughs, the sound rich and mocking. “Trust me, I’d hate it if you did.”
You feel your blood boil at his arrogance, but there’s a thrill in it too, in the way you both seem to enjoy this game. “Deal,” you snap, holding out your hand.
He takes it, but instead of shaking, he pulls you in closer, his lips just inches from yours. “Just remember,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on yours, “this doesn’t change anything. I still can’t stand you.”
You smirk, matching his intensity. “Right back at you.”
And before you know it, his lips are crashing against yours again, and all that frustration and anger blurs into something reckless and wild. For now, you’ll play his game, but you know this is far from over.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Over the next few weeks, the “arrangement” with Sunghoon becomes a twisted game of secrecy and tension. You find yourself sneaking glances in class, meeting him in darkened hallways between periods, and exchanging heated looks across crowded lunch tables. The two of you are constantly dancing on the edge of discovery, and it’s becoming harder to hide the intensity simmering between you.
It starts small. The accidental brush of fingers when passing by in the hallway, the way his eyes linger a little too long when you’re speaking. But then, it escalates. The stolen moments between classes turn into late-night texts and spontaneous meetings wherever you can find some privacy. Empty classrooms, deserted stairwells, even the back of the library—places where no one would think to find the two of you together. The more time passes, the harder it gets to keep up the charade.
You’re starting to notice the way his friends glance between you two, confused by the sudden silences or the shared looks you forget to hide. Jay catches you one morning when you’re walking out of the library with Sunghoon following a few steps behind, your hair slightly mussed, your lips redder than usual.
“What’s going on there?” he asks, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “You and Sunghoon plotting world domination or something?”
You laugh it off, rolling your eyes. “Please. He’s too much of an idiot for that.”
But Jay looks unconvinced, his gaze flicking back to where Sunghoon is standing, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watching you with a smirk that’s all too knowing. “Sure,” Jay says, dragging out the word like he’s not buying it.
At lunch, it’s even worse. Sunghoon sits across from you, his foot nudging yours under the table. It’s subtle, but it’s enough to send a jolt up your spine. You kick him back, hard, and he just chuckles, leaning back in his chair like he’s thoroughly enjoying the game.
“What are you two whispering about?” Yuna asks, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. You’re both quick to cover it up, but it’s obvious that your friends are starting to catch on.
“Nothing,” Sunghoon says smoothly, his voice annoyingly casual. “Just telling Y/N that she looks like she needs more sleep. Those dark circles are really showing.”
Your jaw clenches, but you force a sweet smile, playing along. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll sleep just fine once I stop seeing your face every day.”
He grins, but there’s a flicker of something more heated in his eyes, something you recognize all too well. “Yeah, right.”
Karina frowns, sensing the tension that seems to hang in the air whenever you two are in the same room. “Seriously, what is up with you guys?” she asks, tilting her head.
You wave it off, laughing a little too loudly. “We’re just being our usual selves. You know how it is—can’t stand each other.”
But your friends are starting to notice the little things. The way Sunghoon’s gaze always seems to drift in your direction, the way you keep sneaking out of group study sessions with flimsy excuses, only to return looking flustered and breathless. Sunoo even catches you and Sunghoon exchanging hushed words in the corner of the hallway, too close for comfort, and he raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin forming on his lips.
“Are you two planning a secret mission, or is there something else we should know?” he asks, his tone playful but probing.
Sunghoon just shrugs, but you can feel his eyes on you, daring you to say something. “No mission,” he replies coolly, “unless it’s trying to survive Y/N’s terrible attitude.”
You force a laugh, but the heat in your cheeks gives you away. “Yeah, well, some of us have better things to do than deal with you, Sunghoon.”
But it’s getting harder to pretend, harder to keep the fire between you from spilling over in front of everyone else. Every time he’s near, it feels like the world narrows down to just the two of you, a constant push and pull that’s impossible to ignore. The stolen kisses, the midnight texts, the moments of heated bickering that seem to blur into something more—it’s becoming too much to hide.
And it’s only a matter of time before someone figures it out.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
You grip the sheets of your bed, lip caught between your teeth as sunghoon is under your duvet, tonguing your wet entrance, heat pooling in your belly, felling the intensity of your orgasm creeping up on you.
It’s all cut short when your door bursts open without warning, and Karina barges in, her voice already raised. “Y/N, I swear I’m going to lose my mind—!”
You freeze, your heart stopping in your chest. “Karina!” you squeak, quickly yanking the sheets up to your chin. “What happened to knocking?”
Karina stops mid-rant, blinking at you. “Oh, come on, like I ever knock?” she scoffs, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Anyway, you will not believe what Heeseung just did—”
She’s moving closer to the bed, and you panic, shifting slightly to keep Sunghoon hidden beneath the covers. You can feel him tense up, and his hand slips to your thigh under the sheets, pinching you playfully. You bite your lip to stifle a gasp, kneeing him as a warning.
Karina continues her rant, oblivious. “I mean, he had the nerve to ditch me for practice again, and I’m just—ugh, I needed to vent to someone who understands!”
Your mind races, desperately trying to keep her attention away from the suspicious lump between your legs. “That sounds… really frustrating,” you say, a bit too brightly. “But maybe just, you know, talk to him?”
Karina flops down on the edge of your bed, dangerously close to Sunghoon’s concealed figure. “Oh, I’ll talk to him, alright. I’m just so sick of his stupid excuses—”
Sunghoon’s fingers press into your clit under the sheets. He’s grinning, enjoying the situation far too much. You jab him again, your heart racing.
Karina glances at you, finally noticing your tense posture. “Are you okay? You’re acting weird,” she says, her brows furrowing.
You force a laugh, your voice too high. “I’m fine! Just… woke up. Didn’t expect you to burst in like that.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Since when do you care if I burst in? And why are you so… red?”
You feel the heat creeping up your neck. “Uh, just… hot in here,” you stammer, shifting to keep Sunghoon completely out of sight.
Karina looks like she’s about to press further, but then she sighs, clearly more focused on her Heeseung drama. “Whatever, I just needed to get that off my chest. He drives me insane!”
You nod quickly. “Yeah, I get it. He’s… Heeseung, you know?” Karina gives you a small smile, her frustration easing. “Thanks for listening. And seriously, you look so weird right now.”
You laugh nervously. “Yeah, just tired.”
Finally, she stands up, heading toward the door. “Alright, I’ll leave you to… whatever you were doing. I’m gonna go call him and give him a piece of my mind.”
You nod eagerly. “Good luck with that!”
As soon as she leaves, you exhale in relief, lifting the cover to eye Sunghoon, who’s still grinning like an idiot. “What?” he whispers, amused.
“What?” you repeat, incredulous. “You almost got us caught, that’s what!”
He chuckles, pulling you back down under the sheets. “Relax. She didn’t notice a thing.”
You roll your eyes, but your heart is still racing from the close call. “You’re lucky,” you mutter.
Sunghoon just leans in closer, his lips brushing your cheek. “You love the thrill,” he murmurs.
And damn it, you hate that he’s right.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
It's late, the night air cool against your skin as you lean against the wall outside the school building, waiting for Sunghoon. You don't even know why you agreed to meet him here. Maybe because he seemed so insistent, or maybe because a part of you wanted to see him, even though you’d never admit it.
He arrives moments later, his footsteps heavy as he approaches. There’s a different energy about him tonight—something serious, something intense. His usual smirk is nowhere to be found, and his hands are shoved deep into his pockets. He stops in front of you, a little too close, and you have to tilt your head up to meet his eyes.
“What’s this about?” you ask, trying to sound casual, though your heart is pounding in your chest.
He doesn’t answer right away, his gaze boring into yours like he’s searching for something, something he can’t quite find. You shift on your feet, uncomfortable under his scrutiny.
“Sunghoon?” you prompt, your voice wavering just slightly.
He finally speaks, his tone lower than usual. “I’ve been thinking… about us,” he says, the words almost hesitant, like he’s testing them out.
You blink, caught off guard. “Us?”
He nods, his expression serious. “Yeah, Y/N, us. You and me… whatever this is.”
You swallow hard, trying to keep your face neutral. “I thought we agreed it’s nothing,” you reply, but your voice comes out softer than you intended.
Sunghoon’s eyes narrow, frustration flashing in his gaze. “Yeah, that’s what we said,” he agrees, “but it doesn’t feel like nothing to me anymore.”
Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. You’ve never seen him like this—so open, so exposed. “Sunghoon, I don’t know what you’re getting at,” you say carefully.
He takes a step closer, his expression more intense. “I’m saying that I’ve caught myself… thinking about you. A lot. When you’re not around, I’m wondering what you’re doing, who you’re with. I hate that it bothers me when I see you talking to other guys, and I can’t stand the idea of you being with anyone else.”
You feel a wave of panic rising in your chest. This is too much, too fast. You press your back harder against the wall as if trying to create more distance between you. “Sunghoon, this was never supposed to be serious,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I know, and I tried to keep it that way. But every time I see you, every time we’re together… I can’t help it. I don’t want to help it.”
You shake your head, refusing to let his words sink in. “You don’t mean that,” you insist, more to yourself than to him. “You’re just saying this because it’s… new or whatever. It’ll pass.”
Sunghoon’s jaw clenches, and he moves even closer, leaving barely any space between you. “No, Y/N, it won’t. I’ve tried to stop feeling this way, but I can’t. And I know you feel something too, even if you won’t admit it.”
Your pulse quickens, and you feel your resolve starting to crumble. “I don’t—” you begin, but he cuts you off.
“Stop lying,” he says firmly, his voice carrying a hint of desperation. “You’re scared, I get it. But don’t pretend like this is all just a game to you.”
You feel a flash of anger, your defenses rising. “What if it is, Sunghoon? What if I don’t want anything more than what we already have?”
His expression falters for a moment, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. “Then I guess I’ve made a mistake,” he murmurs, taking a step back.
You feel a pang in your chest, a sharp, unexpected ache. “Sunghoon…”
He shakes his head, cutting you off. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
For a second, you want to reach out, to say something, anything, to make that look on his face go away. But the fear of letting your guard down, of admitting that he might be right, keeps you silent.
He takes another step back, his expression hardening. “I won’t bother you about it again,” he says, his voice cold. “Let’s just go back to pretending like none of this ever happened.”
You nod, though you feel a tightness in your throat. “Yeah, let’s do that,” you say quietly, even though your chest aches with a feeling you don’t want to name.
Sunghoon turns and walks away, and you’re left standing there, the cool night air biting at your skin. You watch him go, feeling something inside you break just a little, and you wonder if maybe you’ve made a mistake too.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
The next morning at school, everything feels heavier. The halls are crowded, but it’s like there’s a spotlight following you, and you can’t shake the feeling that everyone knows. You make your way to your locker, avoiding eye contact with anyone, especially Sunghoon.
You don’t see him at first, but you feel him—his presence looming in the periphery. It’s like he’s everywhere, watching you, and it makes your skin prickle with nerves. You busy yourself with rearranging your textbooks, trying to calm the storm inside your head.
“Hey, Y/N,” Karina chirps, appearing beside you. Her usual bright smile is there, but her eyes are curious, searching your face. “Are you okay? You seemed a little… off yesterday.”
You force a smile, gripping your locker door tighter than necessary. “Yeah, just tired, I guess.”
She studies you for a second longer, then nods. “Well, you should have come to dinner with us last night. It was a total mess, as always, but fun.”
You nod absently, not really listening. Your eyes flick over Karina’s shoulder and catch Sunghoon’s gaze across the hallway. He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with an unreadable expression.
“Y/N?” Karina prompts, bringing your attention back to her. “You’re zoning out again.”
“Sorry,” you mumble. “Just a lot on my mind.”
Karina glances over her shoulder, following your line of sight. Her brow furrows slightly. “You’ve been weird around Sunghoon lately,” she remarks. “Did something happen?”
Your heart skips a beat, and you quickly shake your head. “No, nothing. Why would you think that?”
She shrugs, unconvinced. “I don’t know… Just a feeling.”
You’re saved from having to respond when the bell rings. You grab your books and make a beeline for your next class, trying to ignore the heat of Sunghoon’s stare burning into your back.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Class drags on painfully. You can’t focus. Your mind is a whirlwind of confusion and annoyance. You thought sneaking around with Sunghoon would be fun, a game—a way to blow off steam. But now it’s getting messy, and you’re starting to feel the consequences.
When the bell finally rings, you bolt out of the classroom, desperate for fresh air. But as soon as you turn the corner, you’re yanked into an empty hallway.
Sunghoon.
His grip on your arm is firm, and his eyes are intense, searching yours. “We need to talk,” he says, his voice low.
You pull your arm free, glaring at him. “What’s there to talk about, Sunghoon? We agreed this was supposed to be casual. No strings, remember?”
He frowns, clearly irritated by your tone. “Yeah, but it doesn’t feel like that anymore, does it?”
You cross your arms over your chest, trying to steady your breathing. “That’s because you’re making it weird. Just… back off a little, okay?”
Sunghoon’s jaw clenches, and he takes a step closer. “Back off? You’re the one acting all paranoid, Y/N.”
“Maybe because you won’t stop staring at me like everyone else can’t see it!” you snap back, your voice rising. “This was supposed to be simple. But you’re turning it into something… complicated.”
He scoffs, a humorless smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe because it is complicated. Or have you not noticed?”
You hate the way your chest tightens at his words, the way his closeness makes your heart race. “Don’t do this, Sunghoon,” you warn, your voice quieter, more vulnerable than you’d like.
He pauses, his gaze softening just for a second. “Do what?”
“Make this more than it is,” you whisper, feeling a knot form in your throat. “Because I can’t… I won’t.”
Sunghoon’s expression hardens again, and he leans back, crossing his arms defensively. “Fine,” he mutters. “If that’s how you want it.”
You swallow, forcing yourself to stay composed. “Yeah. It is.”
He nods curtly, stepping away, his face unreadable. “Good. See you around, then,” he says before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving you standing in the empty hallway with your heart in your throat.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
The next few days are torture. Sunghoon keeps his distance, and you tell yourself it’s for the best. But every time you see him, every time you catch his eyes across the cafeteria or in class, there’s a hollow ache in your chest that you can’t ignore.
Your friends notice the tension. They ask questions, but you shrug it off, pretending everything’s fine. But you can’t stop replaying your last conversation with Sunghoon, the way his face looked when you told him to back off. You hate how much you miss him, even if you’d never admit it to anyone, especially not to him.
One afternoon, as you’re walking to your car after school, you spot him leaning against a tree nearby, talking to some girl you don’t recognize. He’s smiling, that same smile that used to be reserved for your private moments. Something sharp twists in your chest, and you quickly look away, anger flaring up.
He catches your glance and, for a moment, his smile falters. But then he leans in closer to the girl, laughing at something she says, and your stomach churns with a mix of jealousy and frustration.
You grip your bag tighter, feeling a sting behind your eyes. This is exactly why you didn’t want things to get complicated. You turn away, refusing to look back.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Sunghoon avoids you. He’s usually the first one to shoot a teasing remark your way, but he’s silent. The hallways feel strangely empty without his usual jabs, and your friends are starting to notice the shift between you two.
“Are you guys fighting again?” Karina asks, as the two of you walk to lunch. Her tone is half-exasperated, half-amused, but you know she’s genuinely curious. “You and Sunghoon, I mean. There’s definitely more tension than usual.”
You shrug, trying to seem indifferent, but your stomach twists with anxiety. “When aren’t we fighting?” you mutter.
She gives you a knowing look, but thankfully doesn’t push it further. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take without your feelings bubbling over. You’re determined to get through lunch without letting Sunghoon get under your skin, but when you enter the cafeteria, you spot him immediately.
He’s at your usual table, talking to Heeseung, but his gaze is elsewhere. The second you walk in, his eyes find yours, and there’s a fleeting moment of something unreadable in his expression. A flash of frustration? Longing? You can’t be sure.
You take a deep breath and head over, sliding into your usual seat. Karina sits next to you, and for a moment, everything feels normal. But then Sunghoon starts talking.
“So,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes locked on you, “Heeseung, heard you and Karina had another spat. What was it this time? You didn’t say ‘I love you’ enough?”
Heeseung rolls his eyes, but Karina just laughs, lightly smacking Heeseung’s arm. “Don’t listen to him, babe. He’s just deflecting from his own issues,” she teases.
Sunghoon smirks, but there’s no real humor in it. “I don’t have issues, Karina. Just people who like to make things complicated,” he says, glancing at you.
You feel your face heat up, irritation boiling over. “Oh, please,” you snap back. “Like you’re the picture of simplicity.”
He leans back in his chair, his eyes glinting with challenge. “Never said I was. But at least I’m honest about it.”
Your chest tightens. “Honest?” you scoff. “You’ve been playing games from the start, Sunghoon.”
He shrugs, feigning indifference. “Maybe I have. But at least I know what I want.”
His words send a jolt of electricity through you, and you clench your jaw, trying to keep your composure. “And what’s that, exactly?”
He leans forward, his voice dropping low so only you can hear. “You. But you already knew that.”
Your heart skips a beat. For a second, you’re frozen, caught between wanting to slap him and… something else. Something you’re not ready to face.
“You’re such a—” you start, but before you can finish, Sunghoon’s foot nudges yours under the table, and your breath hitches.
You’re hyper-aware of the table between you, the curious glances from your friends, and the heat creeping up your neck. Sunghoon’s gaze is still on you, challenging, waiting for your response.
You can’t help the retort that slips out. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
He shrugs with a small grin. “More than you know.”
Before you can shoot back another insult, heeseung cuts in, oblivious to the tension. “Okay, what is happening between you two? I feel like I missed an entire chapter here.”
Sunghoon doesn’t even glance at Heeseung. “Nothing’s happening. Right, Y/N?”
“Right,” you reply, forcing a smile, but your voice sounds strained, even to your own ears.
Heeseung and Karina exchange a look, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, whatever you say,” Karina murmurs with a smirk. “Just remember, denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.”
Sunghoon’s lips twitch in amusement, and he finally looks away, leaning back in his chair as if nothing happened. But under the table, his foot is still lightly brushing against yours, sending sparks up your leg.
You bite the inside of your cheek, determined not to let him see how much he’s getting to you.
But you can’t help it—the sensation, the frustration, and the undeniable attraction between you are all mixing into one chaotic storm.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and everyone begins to gather their things. You stand, trying to shake off the tension still lingering between you and Sunghoon, but Karina has other ideas.
“Hey, Y/N,” she calls, grabbing your arm just as you’re about to head out. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
You nod, feeling a knot form in your stomach. She leads you to a quieter corner of the hallway, away from the crowd. You can tell by the look on her face that she’s not letting this go.
Karina crosses her arms, tilting her head slightly. “Okay, seriously,” she starts, her voice low but pointed. “What the fuck was that back there?”
You blink, trying to feign ignorance. “What was what?”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me. You and Sunghoon… there was some serious tension at lunch. It was like watching a live soap opera, and I feel like I’ve missed a few episodes.”
You sigh, glancing around to make sure no one is listening in. “It’s nothing, Karina,” you insist, but even to your own ears, it sounds unconvincing.
Karina raises an eyebrow. “Nothing? Really? Because from where I was sitting, it looked like something. A big something.”
You bite your lip, unsure of how much to tell her. “Look, we… we just don’t get along. You know that.”
“Yeah, but this felt different,” she replies, not letting up. “Like, I don’t know, it almost seemed like… there was something more there.”
Her words hit a little too close to home, and you feel your cheeks heat up. “You’re imagining things,” you say quickly, but Karina’s not buying it.
She leans in closer, her expression turning more serious. “Y/N, I’m your best friend. I know when something’s up. And that? That was definitely something.”
You hesitate, torn between the urge to confide in her and the fear of admitting the truth. “It’s complicated,” you finally admit, your voice barely a whisper.
Karina’s eyes widen with intrigue. “Complicated how?”
You swallow hard, looking away. “I don’t even know how to explain it. We’ve just… been hanging out a little more lately. And things got… weird.”
“Weird how?” she presses, clearly not letting this go.
You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “We’ve been… hooking up,” you confess, your voice almost inaudible.
Karina’s mouth falls open in shock. “Wait, what? You and Sunghoon?” She looks like she doesn’t know whether to laugh or gasp. “Since when?”
“A few weeks,” you admit, feeling a strange mix of relief and anxiety now that the secret is out.
Karina blinks, taking a moment to process. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I didn’t think it would last this long,” you say defensively. “I thought it was just going to be a one-time thing, but then… it wasn’t.”
Karina’s expression softens slightly. “And how do you feel about it? About him?”
You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant. “I don’t know. It’s confusing. Half the time, I can’t stand him. The other half… well, you saw how lunch went.”
Karina lets out a small laugh. “Yeah, I did. It’s like you two can’t decide whether you want to kill each other or… not.”
You groan, leaning back against the wall. “That’s exactly how it feels.”
Karina nudges you with her elbow. “Just be careful, okay? Sunghoon’s not exactly known for being straightforward with his feelings.”
You nod, appreciating her concern. “I know. Trust me, I’m not expecting anything… much. It’s just… whatever it is.”
Karina gives you a knowing smile. “Alright, but just remember, I’m here if you need to talk. Or, you know, if you need me to kick his ass.”
You laugh, feeling some of the tension ease. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
As you walk back to class, you feel a little lighter, but also more uncertain than ever. Because now that Karina knows, it feels more real. And that scares you more than you���d like to admit.
You pause for a moment, letting your thoughts catch up to your racing heart. Sunghoon had admitted it first, hadn't he? In his own cryptic way, he’d confessed he wanted more than just the back-and-forth, more than just the thrill of the chase. You remember the way he looked at you that day, his eyes full of frustration and something else — something softer, something you weren’t ready to face.
He’d said he wanted you. He’d practically dared you to deny that you wanted him, too. And ever since, you’ve been trying to convince yourself that it didn't matter — that it was just some passing thing, some fling to fill the boredom. But it wasn't. It never was.
You sigh deeply, leaning back against the wall of the building. The memory of his words still lingers like a brand on your skin: "I want you." It had sounded so simple when he said it, so sure. Like he wasn’t afraid of the mess that came with it.
You’ve been too afraid to admit it to yourself, but now… now it feels like you’ve been fighting a battle that’s already lost.
He confessed his feelings first, but you’ve been holding back, afraid to let yourself feel the same. Afraid of what it might mean, of how it could change things between you. You thought you could control it, could manage the situation and keep your distance, but all you’ve managed to do is dig yourself deeper into this mess.
You’re tired. Tired of fighting your own heart, tired of pretending you’re unaffected. Tired of feeling like you're caught in this tug-of-war between desire and denial.
*He’s already put himself out there,* you remind yourself. *He made the first move.* And that thought alone is enough to push you forward, to make you realize that maybe it’s your turn now. Your turn to decide if you want to keep running or if you’re brave enough to let yourself fall.
Pushing off the wall, you feel a wave of determination settle over you. If you’re going to do this, you need to find him and be honest. Not just with him, but with yourself.
Because you don’t want to keep this back-and-forth going, this constant dance of pushing and pulling. You want to know where you stand — with him, and with whatever this thing between you is becoming.
You take a deep breath and start walking, knowing exactly where to find him. And this time, you’re not going to let him get away without an answer.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
You find Sunghoon by the lockers, leaning against the metal with that typical nonchalant pose he seems to have perfected. His head is tilted down, focused on his phone, but he looks up as you approach, sensing your presence. His eyes flicker with surprise for just a moment before his usual guarded expression returns.
“What do you want?” he asks, his voice laced with that familiar arrogance, but there’s something else there, too—an undercurrent of curiosity, maybe even hope.
You don’t bother with pleasantries. “We need to talk,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You try to sound firm, but even you can hear the slight waver in your voice. Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.
“Oh, so now you want to talk?” he retorts, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “After avoiding me all day?”
You roll your eyes, feeling the tension bubble up again. “I wasn’t avoiding you,” you snap, even though you both know it’s a lie. “I just needed… time to think.”
He straightens up, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Think about what?” he asks, and his tone is a little softer now, less mocking.
You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of your next words pressing down on you. “About this. About us,” you say, your voice steadier now. “I’m tired of all this back and forth, Sunghoon. I’m tired of pretending like there’s nothing between us when we both know there is.”
His eyes search yours, and for a moment, his guard slips. “I told you how I felt,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re the one who kept pretending it was just… nothing.”
You feel a pang of guilt twist in your stomach. “I know,” you admit, meeting his gaze head-on. “And I was wrong. I thought I could just… push it away, ignore it. But I can’t. Not anymore.”
Sunghoon’s expression softens, just a little. “So what are you saying?” he asks, his voice careful, as if he’s trying not to hope too much.
You swallow hard, forcing yourself to stay honest. “I’m saying… I want to figure this out. I want to try… whatever this is between us. But I need you to be real with me, Sunghoon. No more games.”
He takes a step closer, closing the distance between you, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. “I’ve been real,” he says, his voice low and intense. “I’ve been real since that night at Karina’s party, and I’ve been waiting for you to catch up.”
You’re taken aback by the sincerity in his words, by the way his eyes seem to bore into yours like he’s trying to see into your very soul. “I’m here now,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper.
Sunghoon takes another step closer, and now he’s right in front of you, his breath warm on your skin. “So what do you want?” he murmurs, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Do you want me, or are you still trying to convince yourself you don’t?”
Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you’re not sure what to say. But then you realize you’ve known the answer all along. “I want you,” you admit, your voice steady, finally letting the truth slip past your lips. “But I don’t want to keep pretending like it’s nothing. I want to try… something real. But I don’t want it to be this constant push and pull, Sunghoon. I can’t keep doing that.”
Sunghoon’s lips curl into a small, almost relieved smile. “Then let’s stop playing games,” he says softly, leaning in closer. “Let’s see where this goes, no more pretending. Just you and me.”
You feel a strange sense of relief wash over you at his words, a weight lifting from your chest. “Okay,” you whisper, and it feels like the most honest thing you’ve said in a long time.
His smile widens just a fraction, and he closes the final distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a way that feels both familiar and new. It’s not the frantic, heated kisses you’ve shared before—it’s slower, deeper, filled with a promise of something more.
And for the first time, you feel like you’re finally on the same page. Finally moving in the same direction.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Over the next few weeks, things between you and Sunghoon change in ways you never could have anticipated. At first, it’s subtle — small shifts that only the two of you notice. You spend more time together between classes, sitting closer at lunch, and texting late into the night. The playful bickering is still there, but it’s softened somehow, more like an inside joke than a battle.
Your friends don’t notice at first. They’re used to seeing you and Sunghoon together, arguing about this or that, so the extra time you spend with him doesn't raise any immediate red flags. But eventually, the signs become too obvious to ignore.
One day at lunch, you’re sitting next to Sunghoon, your legs brushing under the table. His hand casually rests on the back of your chair, his thumb occasionally grazing your shoulder. Jay, seated across from you, narrows his eyes, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Okay, what’s going on?” he asks, his tone teasing but his eyes curious.
You glance over at Sunghoon, who just smirks. “What do you mean?” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant, but you can feel the flush creeping up your neck.
Jay gestures between the two of you. “This,” he says, waving his hand. “You two. You’re being weird. Weird even for you two.”
Karina, who’s been listening in, gasps. “Oh my god,” she says, her eyes widening with realization. “Are you guys… together?”
The table goes silent for a second, everyone turning to look at you. Sunoo’s eyebrows shoot up, and Jake leans forward, looking like he’s trying to solve a particularly complicated math problem.
Sunghoon leans back, crossing his arms over his chest with a grin. “Depends,” he says casually. “What do you think?”
You elbow him in the side, rolling your eyes at his vague answer. “Yes,” you say, looking at your friends. “We’re… together. Kind of.”
“Kind of?” Sunghoon echoes, feigning offense, and you shoot him a playful glare.
“Yes, kind of!” you insist, turning back to your friends, who are now staring at you like you’ve just revealed you’re secretly an alien. “It’s… new.”
Heeseung chuckles. “I mean, I’m not totally surprised,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “You two have been like a powder keg waiting to explode for years.”
Yuna nods eagerly. “Honestly, it was about time,” she adds, and you can’t help but laugh at her bluntness.
Jungwon, however, looks mildly concerned. “So, you’re serious?” he asks, glancing between you and Sunghoon. “Like, actually serious?”
Sunghoon looks at you, his smile softening just a bit, and he nods. “Yeah,” he says, and there’s a sincerity in his voice that makes your heart skip a beat. “We’re serious.”
Your friends take a moment to process this. Then Jake grins. “Alright,” he says, raising his glass of soda. “To Y/N and Sunghoon. The enemies-to-lovers arc we didn’t know we needed.”
You laugh, and everyone joins in, raising their glasses. It’s strange, in a way, seeing everyone so quickly accept what feels like a massive shift in your life. But it also feels… right.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Over the next few days, things become more obvious. You and Sunghoon are no longer trying to hide. He reaches for your hand in the hallways, and you let him. He kisses you on the cheek in front of the others, and they pretend to gag but smile knowingly when they think you’re not looking.
You catch Karina’s eye one afternoon, and she gives you a grin that’s part smug, part excited. She leans over, whispering, “So… you finally admitted you like him, huh?”
You smile, shrugging a bit. “Guess so,” you say, and she laughs, nudging you with her elbow.
The hardest part, strangely enough, is getting used to the change yourself. It’s still weird to not have to hide how you feel, to be able to smile at Sunghoon without wondering if anyone is watching. But with each passing day, it gets a little easier.
And it’s not like everything is perfect. You and Sunghoon still argue — of course, you do. That’s just how you are. But there’s something different now, something that feels less like anger and more like… passion. Like you’re both on the same side, even when you’re bickering.
There are moments when you catch him looking at you from across the room, a small smile on his lips, and you feel a warmth spread through your chest. And in those moments, you know — this is real. This is right.
Your friends have stopped asking questions. They’ve accepted that this is your new normal, and honestly, so have you. The only thing left to do is see where it takes you.
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4K notes · View notes
hmusunoo · 3 months ago
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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 𝐋.𝐇𝐒
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▏pairings. heeseung x fem!reader
▏desc. baby making with your husband heeseung
▏warnings. SMUT mdni, pure flith, breeding kink, short little drabble
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"Lift your hips baby. Yeah Just like that" Heeseung was towered over you his breath quick and chest heaving as he sat deep inside you. He had you at an angle pillow under your hips to lift you up slightly.
The two of you had seen this as a method to help in getting pregnant. Needless to say Heeseung was more than happy to try it out. Your legs sat on his shoulders his cock reaching unbelievably deep places.
"Fuck" You breathed pushing at his stomach just slightly the pleasure overwhelming your senses. "It's too much" You whined your hips lifting higher arching your back off the pillow as Heeseung started a brutal pace.
"You can take it baby-" Heeseung grunted attaching his hands to your hips to give himself leverage "Take this dick"
Your moans were high pitches as you allowed Heeseung to use your body in every way that he wanted. His pace was brutal but his words became sweet. He whispered in your ear small little "You're doing so good sweetheart" and "I can't wait for you to be swollen with my baby"
What was once a dirty filthy fuck turned into a soft love making, focusing on the task at hand which was to get you pregnant.
Your husband was completely fucked out his expression lewd, eye lids heavy lidden and mouth slightly ajar.
"I'm going to cum sweetheart" Your husband spoke in a rush, his voice raspy the echoes of skin slapping filling the room.
"Yeah?" You slurred wrapping your arms around Heeseung's pulling him impossibly closer to you. "You going to put a baby in me?" Your words were sultry causing Heeseung's hips to stutter against yours.
"F-fuck" He hissed out pace becoming unsteady "Fuck yes I am" He tried his hardest to keep his resolve but you could tell that he was slowly losing himself in the immense pleasure.
"You almost there baby?" He asked you, you nodded bringing you hand down to circle your clit the added stimulation inching you closer and closer to your end.
"Cum with me." He panted "Cum with me baby" He repeated his words a jumbled mess. "Fuck fuck you're going to be so beautiful pregnant baby.. fuck fuck" He was panting stilling his hips against yours roughly as he spilled inside of you.
"You're so deep!" You squeaked arching your back once again as you reached your end just meer seconds after him.
After taking a couple seconds to calm yourselves down Heeseung pulled out from you with a hiss. He sank to his knees in front of you core reaching his fingers to push his spend back into you.
"Have to make sure we don't waste a single drop baby" He said kissing the inside of your thighs before bringing his head back up to yours. He attached your lips to his in a quick kiss, the smile on his face as bright as you'd ever seen it.
"We should go again just to be sure" Heeseung smirked at you. You giggled wrapping your arms around his neck "Just to be sure” You nodded at him.
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caramelkoo · 2 months ago
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behind your touch (18+)
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jungkook x reader
genre : married couple, simp husband!Jungkook
summary : two introverts explore the sexier and much more hotter side of their relationship.
warnings : lots of smut and fluff, dual pov, Jungkook is a wild one and he's also a simp, they're adorable, oc is a tadbit nervous, they're newly married and so in love with eo, breeding kink, unprotected sex (please be safe), Oral (giving and receiving), Jungkook is dominant, hair pulling, spanking, he loves her ass, masturbating together. let me know if i missed something.
a/n : i have no idea which freaky monster was sitting on my shoulders when i wrote this. enjoy and if you're ovulating, goodluck. kisses <33
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
your pov
"One more, honey. Just give me one more"
Your husband's fingers pump into you as you tweak your nipples between your forefinger and thumb. The pleasure is so intense and burning, you almost see stars. Jungkook is on his stomach between your legs wide apart, his left hand is grabbing your left tit while his three fingers thrust into your wet pussy, thumb rubbing your clit. His face is hovering above yours and he nibbles on your ear.
"I- oh my god, Jungkook I can't" you whimper as you try to control your ragged breathing. He has your body totally at his mercy and you know he's not going to stop until he makes you come for the third time. You don't even know how he pulled one out of you the second time.
"I know you can. Let me see that beautiful pussy clench. Just like that."
His finger go even deeper inside you. He twists his forefinger in such a way, you almost scream before slapping your hand over your mouth but Jungkook takes a hold of your hand, removing it from your mouth.
he warns, "Don't you dare muffle your screams or else I'm gonna spank that perfect ass until it's red and hot"
That does it, your hands rapidly grab the taut silk bedsheet, pulling and undoing it as you arch your back. Sweat beads cover your forehead as you let out a scream before coming harder than ever before.
"FUCK" you pant.
Jungkook takes out his fingers before sucking them off. You look at him with lust in your eyes and sigh. When he's done he holds you close to him as you tuck your face into his neck. Patient as you come down, running his hands over your arms, breasts and ass.
"That's my girl, you did so good" he kisses your forehead.
While you feel like you've ran a marathon, his facial expression holds nothing but pride and affection.
"God, I wish you could see yourself from my eyes right now. A fucking sight"
You chuckle, "You're crazy"
Placing a chaste kiss on your cheek he eyes find you again, "How are you feeling, wife?"
Your cheeks instantly turn a deep shade of pink. It's been twenty days since you both have been married, promised to love each other till the day you die. However, you've still not gotten used to him calling you his wife and it appears he loves your flustered face given that he calls you that every chance he gets.
You ignore his snarky chuckle and reply, "Perfect. How are you feeling, husband?
As soon as the words leave your mouth, Jungkook nuzzles his face in your neck and squeals. His golden retriever personality has always been your favorite.
"I love hearing you call me that. Is this how you feel when i call you wife?"
Indeed you do but no way you're gonna tell him that. His ego has gone big enough for the day. You push him down by his shoulders and lower yourself down to his thick length. He's still wearing his black boxers but earlier somewhere in the process he's gotten rid of his shirt.
Grabbing the waistband of his boxers, you push them down and let his thick length spring free. Your mouth immediately waters seeing his tip red and angry, begging for attention. A drop of cum has formed on top of it.
"Honey, you don't have to do this" he assures pushing up from his elbows to look at you.
"I want to" you say taking him in your mouth as his grunt follows after.
"Fuck yeah, just like that. You're so good at this, baby. So so good" his head thumps back on the pillow. His stomach muscles are clenching hard resulting his abs to look more defined. You run your hands over them. His breathing picks up when you take him deeper and when you cup his balls, his hands grab a handful of your brown locks.
"_____, baby I'm not gonna last long if you keep doing that" his hips come up pushing his cock to the back of your throat. He thrusts once, twice, thrice. The room is filled with wet noises and both of your moans. You've never heard of anything more beautiful. You've never seen anyone more beautiful than your husband.
"W-Want me to come in your mouth?" he asks as you nod frantically.
And he does. Another moans slips out of him as he grips your hair a bit tighter while also making sure not to hurt you. Your throat gets filled with his load.
"Swallow it, wife"
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Peace. If someone were to ask how your relationship is with Jungkook, you'd use the word peaceful. Love has all sort of forms and in your life where you are surrounded by so many people who love you, their love however, is slightly different yet equally precious.
For instance, there's passionate love then there's motherly love, bubbly love of a friend and nurturing love of a grandparent. When it comes to your husband, it's peaceful and calm. Your introvert personality had let people in the past assume the worst of you. The enormity of the fact that people think introverts are stand offish or impolite is beyond you.
It wasn't the case with Jungkook, though. Since you're both introverts it's never too quiet or too loud for you. A cup of coffee while you're sitting on his lap watching the sunset, taking a hot bath together where you both are not saying a word and letting silence wash over you, you reading your book while he plays his video game.
These moments might seem boring and mundane to a third party but for both of you, who feel like themselves in silence, they're more than just moments.
But that's not to say that there's no spark. That factor has certainly never been a matter of concern. Just like right now as you check yourself out in the bathroom mirror, your body has never looked this stunning. You're wearing a red lingerie which hugs your pear shaped body like a dream.
However, you can't seem to stop the fleeting feeling of nervousness creeping up in your stomach, twisting it into knots. This is new for you. Even in your past relationships you have never explored this much. It's only Jungkook's ability to make you comfortable in your body that has led you to this point. So, you take a deep breath and call out for him.
"Babe!!!"
"Yeah?" before you left him to execute your sexy little surprise, he was talking to his best friend, Jimin. It appears he's done talking.
Adjusting the bra strap, you yell again, "Can you close your eyes for me, please?"
"Why?" he's got to be kidding.
"JUST DO IT!!"
"Alright, alright woman"
You walk towards the door and twist the knob oh so slowly. You open the door slightly ajar and see him sitting on the corner of the bed and then only you walk out.
Standing four steps before him you speak, "Okay you can open them"
"That's what she said"
You huff out a laugh but quickly recover.
"Jeon Jungkook"
"Shit, you full named me? This must be serio-" his words come to a halt when his gaze falls on you.
A nervous smile breaks out of your full lips as you wait for him to continue. When he doesn't say anything you start to wonder if you overdid it but he doesn't give you much time to think further because the next thing you know is he's pushing you against the bedroom wall, lips colliding with yours.
You moan as your lips move together with him sucking your bottom one between his. It's sloppy, it's filled with saliva but you wouldn't have it any other way. Tonight, you want the sloppy and wet.
His mouth is soft and eager. One thing about kissing Jungkook is that it's never the same. It's different every fucking time and it only gets better. His tongue pushes in between your lips before you part them and allow it to slide against your own.
He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, "Jesus Christ,____. You're trying to kill me, baby"
"Do you like it?" you chuckle.
"Like it? You have no idea how many times I've gotten off to this visual. You look like a fucking goddess and you could ask for anything right now, I'd give it to you"
He shakes his head right to left like he still can't comprehend the sight in front of him. So you decide to help him.
"Fuck me"
"What?"
"I need you to fuck me, Jungkook." you ask him in a stern voice.
From the way he looks at you, it seems like he can't wait another second to get his mouth on you. Taking a step back, he looks at you up and down as if taking his fill. The moment the next words leave his mouth, you shiver.
"Strip"
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Jungkook's pov
"Strip"
The red lingerie pushes his wife's tits up as Jungkook is holds onto this slender thread of restraint, scared that if this gets any hotter, it'll snap. Her skin is so smooth and her lips are swollen from the rather burning kiss they shared earlier. The bulge in his sweatpants must be visible but he's not embarrassed about it.
A man can only handle so much. He looks at ______ with a fire and yearning that runs so deep he feels like it'll consume him whole. He wonders what made tonight worth it? is it the lingerie? is it the fact that they're newly married? is it the honeymoon?
No, It's because of the woman standing before him. It's because of the fact that he is the luckiest man alive on the planet to not only have a woman so sexy as his wife but also someone who is an outstanding daughter, a responsible sister and a human worth living for.
People talk about dying for their loved ones but what about living for them? What about living with them? When he was standing at the alter with ______ standing in front of him just like now he had made a promise to himself that he will live for her everyday. He will make every single day worth it for her so that she will choose him again as her husband in her next life.
The red fabric of cloth falls down with a subtle thump on the ground and his eyes travel all over _____ body. Her slender legs, a dark mole just above her left knee, stretch marks looking like lightening travelling from her navel down to her knees, the curve of her waist he has always loved to hold and kiss, her tits with perky nipples begging for attention and then finally her face.
"Come here and lie down on the bed" she does as he says.
When she gets comfortable enough and looks at him he asks her to spread her legs.
"Show me that pretty pussy, sweetheart" she spreads her legs slowly as if teasing him. He sucks in a deep breath before slipping out of his sweatpants and letting his cock spring free. It slaps against his stomach and he gives it a pump.
"I'm going to fuck you real nice but before that I want to watch. Don't worry though, I'll let you watch too" his voice is as husky as ever.
He walks back to the chair in the corner of the room and sits himself down. His wife looks at him with so much innocence and wonder, for a second he considers changing his mind and snuggle her to sleep but then again, she asked for it so she'll get it.
"Slip one finger inside, baby. Make sure to do it slowly, I want you to feel it well. Soak in the feeling"
"Jungkook, I'm not sure-"
"Hey, I'm right here, my love. I'm in this with you but reconsider it and if you're still not sure, we'll stop" he gently assures her, respecting her boundaries.
______ thinks for a while before taking a deep breath and nodding. Her hand slowly travels down to her stomach and finally to her wet cunt.
"Perfect, now rub your clit slowly and then slide a finger inside" she follows his commands as she lets out a light moan, her head tipping back in pleasure. It's just the beginning.
Jungkook's hands work up and down his length as he seeks his own pleasure but he's not sure how long he can last with the look on his wife's face. It's the perfect mix of pleasure and pain. She's his strength but fuck if she doesn't make him weak in the knees. Both of their moans fill the room with several "fuck" and "oh my god" following right after.
As _____ slides her finger inside and pumps it, he also fastens the pace of his pumping.
"Two more in, baby. Give it everything I know you're close" he manages to speak in a low voice.
"Jungkook, it's too much ahhh" she whines as she arches her back off the bed and he can see her pussy going moist and swollen indicating she's almost there. His hands pump as fast working his veiny cock between his tattooed hands and as soon as his wife lets out another loud moan, his orgasm follows making him throw his head back as he comes down from the high.
When he finally gets a hold of himself, he catches a look at her. She's breathing rapidly and caressing her stomach. Walking up to her he kneels down facing her sex and puts his mouth on it, sucking loudly.
"JUNGKOOK-"
Jungkook's eyes look up to her as he slides his tongue up and then down her pussy cleaning her off as she grabs his hair in response and yanks him up. He obliges and hovers over her before taking the same fingers that were inside her as he pushes them against her lips. She opens those kissable lips and tastes herself.
"Do you understand how divine you taste now?"
_____ hums as her lips release the finger with a loud pop. His eyes trace her face lovingly. _____ has exactly ten moles on her face and his favorite is the one on her upper lip. It's meant to be kissed just like the other ones.
"You're staring"
"I like looking at you. You're the loveliest person ever, do you know that? How did I even get so lucky?"
_____ grins and it's the only thing he ever wants to see on her face.
"Tell me how you want my cock wife and I'll give it to you" His eyes are glue to her face. He could look at her all day and not get bored.
"I- I want it from behind if that's okay" there is a hint of hesitation in her voice and he doesn't like it. But that's okay because he plans on making her as comfortable as possible tonight.
When he turns her on her stomach and guides her ass upwards, her face down on the mattress, she gasps but doesn't object.
"Are you okay with me spanking this ass, honey? Want me to tell you how bad I want you?" she whimpers.
"Yes, please"
"That's a good fucking girl" his doesn't wait a second longer before giving a slap on the globe of her ass, only to slap it once more while also making sure not to hurt her in the process. His palms paint her pale skin.
He works her clit pulling a loud moan out of her. _____ breath is picking up the pace again as sweat beads her back glistening it in the best way possible. He notches the head of his cock at her entrance and pushes inside with a force that takes both of their breaths away.
"Fuck" he cries out and she whines.
He pulls himself outside before thrusting back inside, "Fuck, I love you, _____. You're the best thing that happened to me. Every morning- ugh- every morning I get excited just because of the fact that I get to see this pretty face. You beautiful, strong, gentle of a woman and you're all mine"
His thrusts fasten, he gives three kisses on the dimples of her back as he fucks her from behind just like she asked.
"I love you, baby" he hears her reply back, her voice breathy.
"You like that?"
thrust
"You like how I'm giving it all to you, huh?"
thrust
"You like being at my mercy? Desperate and needy?"
thrust
"Want me to give you a baby,hmm? Make you look all mine?" His final thrust goes even deeper before he turns her on her back. He pulls out and freezes. The woman he's married to is looking like a fucking angel who also has been fucked raw and good. He couldn't be more in love with her.
"Sweetheart, I wanna try something but I need to you to trust me, alright? I'll never hurt you" when he gets a nod from _____ he uses his knees to move up to her until he just above her stomach.
"Push those tits together for me" he commands.
So, she does. ______ doesn't hesitate this time and his chest grows another inch with pride. Her tits squeeze up with the help of her palms and Jungkook carefully slips his cock into the tight channel. Her chest is decorated with the hickeys he's given her this morning.
It takes five thrusts for him to come on her chest. White, hot liquid covers his wife's chest as he quickly pushes himself sideways and lies down beside her with a loud thump.
"Christ, that was so good" he pants.
He takes a moment to catch his breath before running to the bathroom and comes back with a wet towel. He swipes it all over her chest as he cleans her off. She's still looking at him with the same love and passion in her eyes as before. Nothing has changed and nothing will change.
As soon as he's done cleaning up and gets ready to talk his wife's ears off, her soft snores pull at his attention. Giggling to himself as he covers her with the duvet pulling it taut so she can be warm and cozy, he gets comfortable beside her and prepares to go into a deep slumber.
A hand wraps around his stomach making his silly, romantic heart flutter and _____ places her head on his chest.
Placing a chaste kiss on her temple and nose, he whispers into the darkness, "Goodnight, honey. Thank you for being mine"
3K notes · View notes
hopelessromwriter · 2 years ago
Text
A Little Walk
Rhysand x reader
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The Inner Circle of the Night Court was gathered in the living room of their luxurious house, enjoying a rare moment of peace and quiet.
Feyre was curled up on the couch, reading a book, while Rhysand and Cassian were playing a game of cards. Mor was lounging in a nearby armchair, sipping on a glass of wine, and Amren was studying a piece of parchment with a furrowed brow.
But there was one member of their family missing, and it didn't take long for them to realize it. You had been missing from the group for several days, working on a top-secret project for Rhysand. You had hardly slept or eaten, pouring all your energy into the task at hand.
Azriel had noticed your absence and had grown increasingly concerned. He knew how much you cared about your work, but he also knew that you tended to overwork yourself, often to the point of exhaustion. He had tried to talk to you about it, but you always brushed him off, insisting that you could handle it.
But now, as he watched his family enjoying their moment of relaxation, he couldn't help but worry. He knew that you needed to take a break, to rest and recharge, but he wasn't sure how to convince you.
As if sensing his thoughts, Rhysand looked up from his game and caught Azriel's eye. "What's on your mind, brother?" he asked.
Azriel hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I'm worried about (y/n)" he said, his voice quiet. "She's been working non-stop for days, and I don't think she's taking care of herself."
The Inner Circle fell silent, all of them contemplating Azriel's words. They knew how important your work was, but they also knew that your health and well-being were just as crucial.
"We need to talk to her," Feyre said, setting down her book. "Make her see that she needs to take a break."
Rhysand nodded in agreement. "I'll talk to her," he said. "She trusts me, maybe I can convince her to take some time off."
But when Rhysand went to find you, he found you hunched over your desk, poring over a stack of papers. Your hair was disheveled, and there were dark circles under your eyes.
"Hey," Rhysand said, his voice gentle. "How's it going?"
You looked up, your eyes bloodshot and tired. "It's going," you said, forcing a smile. "Just a few more things to finish up."
Rhysand frowned, his concern growing. "Listen, I know how important this is, but you need to take a break. You can't keep pushing yourself like this."
Your smile faltered, and you sighed heavily. "I know," you said, rubbing your tired eyes. "But I have a deadline, and I don't want to let anyone down."
Rhysand took a step closer, his wings wrapping around you protectively. "You won't let anyone down," he said. "But you will let yourself down if you don't take care of yourself. Come on, let's go for a walk."
At first, you hesitated, but Rhysand's gentle insistence finally convinced you. You walked through the gardens of the Night Court, the cool breeze and the soft sounds of nature soothing your frazzled nerves.
You didn't talk about work, or deadlines, or anything remotely related to their responsibilities. You two simply walked, enjoying each other's company in the peaceful surroundings.
And as you both walked, you began to feel something shift inside you.
You felt a weight lifted off your shoulders, knowing that you had people who cared about your well-being. And as you walked beside the High Lord, your heart swelled with gratitude for the Inner Circle, the family you had found in the midst of chaos.
178 notes · View notes
jjk4isen · 3 months ago
Text
ꗃ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃, 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 .
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❝ answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and holding me— was she the one on your mind? ❞
summary: it's hard knowing you aren't really the person in toji's heart but loving him was something you still did regardless. as for toji, he thinks he's ready to give you his all.
desc: 2.8k words, f!reader (referred to as ‘mama’), canon compliant i think, takes place after mamaguro's death and before toji’s, age gap (early 20s reader, early 30s toji), baby gumi ahhhhh, sfw, angst to fluff to angst again lol, intended lowercase, think you're tsumiki’s mom but without tsumiki bc the relations would be too complicated and also the second wife erasure in the canon storyline?? yeah it's reserved specifically for this fic, not proof read i fear but pls read it's really interesting i can swear by it lmaoqhdhns
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dating a widowed man with a son wasn't easy especially when the said man is still in love with his former wife, or rather, his wife who had died.
love is often beautiful but sometimes it's unfair. it can also be cruel. what other reason would make you still stay despite knowing you'll never measure upto the person who had been here before you?
and you've heard stories about her. she was sweet, so beautiful— not just in her appearance but her entire being was beautiful. there always was an ache in your heart upon just the mention of her name.
so how much more would it have ached for toji?
“mama” the spiky haired boy, barely two years old calls you and you realise the silence in the room. “not mama, i’m nana okay?” sick.
nana. not mama but close enough. it doesn't matter anyway, n and m are just letters and next to each other so how much difference would that make? you're the one that's here after all, are you not?
if there's a lump in your throat and your eyes are burning with unshed tears, you force yourself to ignore.
“okay nana” megumi nuzzles his face into your chest, slowly drifting away to sleep. the boy always liked cuddling with you and it melts your heart immensely.
your hands strand through his dark hair. people always said he's the carbon copy of his dad but you'd like to differ. megumi has his mother's eyes and his hair resembled hers more than it did his dad's.
the thought sends another ache in your chest but you push it away– as you always have.
you recall the last time toji had heard megumi call you “mama”. you had never seen toji that livid. he was never a gentle man to begin with but that night, there was nothing else you've been more scared of.
was he like that to his wife? maybe not.
does that matter though? it's not like toji treats you badly. he's decent and loves you an enough amount. you weren't crazy enough to stay when you're not wanted so that must mean you were something to him right?
you also recall the whispers of pity and condemnation thrown at you for just being with toji. him being a brute is one thing but the difference in age is what people seem to have a problem with. you're so much younger than him and have your whole life ahead of you so why are you entrapping yourself this way?
you disagree though. love doesn't know any age and you definitely aren't naive to be head over heels over a guy just because he's relatively older. no, this was real and genuine.
a faint knock disrupts your train of thoughts. “he sleepin’?” toji nods towards the small boy in your arms and you nod back in return.
taking care not to wake the sleeping kid, you slowly pry his hands away from you and pull over a blanket to cover his small body.
when you make your way towards toji, he wastes no time in pulling you closer “missed you” he mumbles, placing a kiss onto your forehead and suddenly all thoughts plaguing your mind disappears. that's all you could ask for, even if it was just for a moment.
“i missed you more” you whisper back, he only huffs out an amused chuckle.
“got bad news though” a frown finds itself on his lips, decorated by a single scar next to it.
“did you lose all your money again?” toji was a gambling addict, another thing you forced yourself to tolerate just for him.
“sorry, doll. thought i’d win this time” he rubs small circles on your back comfortingly and it makes you a bit uneasy to know that he has his way with you so easily.
“it's alright. i’ll just find another part time job”
“so good to me” toji pulls you into his chest and you let out a sigh— of exhaustion? relief? you couldn't really tell but that's not important, toji had you in his arms.
“i’ll try and think of something too. don't worry your pretty little head too much” he lifts you up with ease. while you're in his arms, you feel the safest.
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toji really felt bad this time. he was confident he would win but that stupid horse had to trip and lose its lead, ending up last of all places. he knows luck never favoured him but that's didn't stop him from trying again and again and again.
he also knows how you didn't say anything more than necessary about it but he isn't that much of an idiot either. he sees how your expression falters and your shoulders slump a little more when he comes home with another news of his gambling loss.
this is also why he tries, or rather, tried to quit — one too many times, unbeknownst to you. however, old habits die hard and most of the time (everytime) toji gives into his urge and loses yet again. the cycle keeps happening.
maybe this isn't just about gambling.
with the way you're asleep so soundly next to him after putting his son to sleep and taking care of him too, he is overcomed with yet another feeling to be better for you and megumi alike.
toji isn't a gentle man; everyone knows that, you do too — even more than anybody else but he can't help the familiar pool of warm feelings surging through him the longer he stares at your peaceful state.
he remembers the last time he felt it, with another person. it felt like a lifetime ago.
he also remembers how painful it was when he lost it — the person, the feeling altogether. his hands that were making their way to caress your face stops mid air.
toji knows you deserve so much better. you've been nothing but patient to him, so amazing, so perfect to him. still, he just can't do it yet, just not yet.
he will eventually, he hopes you stay until then.
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toji wakes up to an empty bed and his heart sinks a little but the creases and wrinkles on the sheets serve as a reminder that you were really here.
he makes his way towards the kitchen, only finding megumi sitting on a chair next to the dining table.
“hey kid, where's your mama?”
toji freezes. it came out so naturally he didn't realise he said it himself and almost thinks he didn't but megumi's wide eyes prove that he actually did.
“m…mama?” megumi says hesitantly and toji nods this time. “yes, your mama”.
“potty potty!” megumi points to the bathroom and giggles, toji follows suit. the man crouches to his son's eye level and pats his head.
“you love your mama, kid?” toji sees megumi's eyes sparkle as the boy nods enthusiastically “very very much!!”
“yeah? i love your mama too.”
toji smiles to himself, he can't wait to tell that to you.
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the next time toji got his pay, he finds himself hesitating. instead of heading towards the race tracks, his feet takes him to a jewellery store.
instead of picking out a slot and testing his luck, he picks out a ring. it's not fancy by any means but he thinks it would be the most beautiful band of metal to exist if it slides into your ring finger.
the tiny ring carries all the heavy feelings he has for you.
──
it was one particular evening when you saw an old man lingering by the front gate. its particular because the warm sunset and the soft cool breeze contrasted the ground breaking truth you find out.
“can i help you?” you ask the old man who looks at you up and down, not making an attempt to hide his distaste of your sight.
“is this where toji zenin lives?” he stares down at you with his scrutinising gaze; it makes you feel small.
“zenin?” you ask, confused. is he referring to toji? but his last name is fushiguro is it not?
“yes toji zenin. i heard he has a son as well. you're not the mother are you?”
is it that obvious? you wonder how the old man figured it out. regardless, you're not about to give him his answers so you stood your ground.
“i’m sorry i don't know what you're talking about.” you turn around, about to head inside when his words make you stop short.
“are you fushiguro?”
that's toji’s last name isn't it? not zenin or whatever he called it. so why is he asking you that? is he implying that you're married to toji?
“no. you have the wrong person.”
“why? did he say not to get involved with anyone from his clan?” the old man draws closer, chucking to himself. you're just there unmoving, trying to comprehend the situation and the words coming from his mouth.
“or did he not tell you that either? did he tell you anything at all?” he stands tall in front of you, tearing away bits of yourself with every word he says.
“when he returns, tell him the clan wants to propose him an offer. you can do that much at least won't you?”
and when toji comes home that night with the ring cluched tightly in his fist and inside the pocket of his white pants, the world stills.
he finds you in a state he has never seen you before. you look completely and utterly defeated.
“hey, what's wrong?” his hands come to caress your face so effortlessly, the ring and prior nervousness long forgotten.
“talk to me what's going on?” he looks around and the house seems emptier than usual. your laundry that were usually hanging with his were gone.
your small trinkets you placed around the house to “make it more lively” were nowhere to be found.
and there's a bag in the corner of the room which toji prays and hopes he isn't what he thinks it is.
your hands push away his own that were cupping your face. you're not even looking at him.
“say something damn it!”
you flinch and toji takes a step back. he recalls the last time you trembled in fear — when he got mad megumi called you his mom. he punishes himself for it.
“im sorry. please talk to me.” he isn't touching you now but he wants to. he wants to reach out and pull you close, as he always had done. but now there's an unbearable silence and the small distance between you both felt like lightyears away.
“who's zenin” your voice was meek, barely a whisper but toji's eyes widen. how did you find out about that?
no fuck that, he was supposed to be the one telling you. in his own time.
“i can explain” was all that came out of him. he's nervous, he doesn't know where to start. there's a lot of information to unpack and he's not sure how to do it without hurting you too much.
when he doesn't elaborate, you ask another “who's fushiguro then?” your voice falters a bit and toji curses himself for it.
but he's done running away and keeping things from you. “my… my late wife” he says wryly.
your eyes close and a shaky breath leaves your body, as if he just confirmed your worst suspicions. damn life is so funny isn't it? everything you thought you knew apparently wasn't what it seemed to be after all.
opening them again, your vision blurs and you realise tears were escaping your eyes. fuck you didn't want to cry now of all times but they won't stop.
and the way toji was looking at you, it makes you want to throw up.
“i must've been so stupid to you” you let out a humourless chuckle. “did you pretend im her?”
your gaze was sharp and so were your words. maybe all your bottled up feelings were resurfacing. it doesn't make you feel better about it but that doesn't stop you though.
“answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and when you're holding me, was she the one on your mind??” your voice was loud now. you should be afraid of waking up megumi who you cradled to sleep just a few hours ago but no, your thoughts are too clouded right now.
toji sighs. he has no excuse.
“i used to” he actually looks ashamed as if he wasn't the one who did it purely out of his will.
your scoff makes him wince “but not anymore.”
his words fall on deaf ears “you know… i knew you did. but i stayed regardless because i thought there would be a chance that maybe one day, you could open up your heart to me. im not even asking for all of it, just a little… i thought you'd let me in.”
you're blabbering and honestly, so distraught.
“but not a moment was there when it was me isn't it? it was always her in the first place.”
now toji should have said something, anything but he stays there planted in place. and maybe that was your breaking point.
you turn around, grabbing your bag and brushing past him towards the door. instead of holding onto you and stopping you, toji clutches the small box containing the ring — your ring in his pocket, almost crushing it in the process, as he hears the door slam.
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you think it's funny how toji did not reach out after what happened. it's poetic even. very fitting of him, till the very end, he did not give two shits about you.
so then, why were you back here?
it's been four long years since the trajectory of your life changed. you still don't know if it was for the better or for the worse.
saying it has been hard would be an understatement. it took you a long time just to get back onto your own feet but you did it regardless. however, you left a part of you here long ago and now, you're here to take it back.
that and you missed megumi dearly. perhaps it was an excuse too because you won't deny a part of you still missed toji, despite everything that happened.
standing a few feet away from the place you used to call home, you hesitate.
maybe this was a bad idea. oh this was definitely a bad idea. you'll see them, and then what? what comes after that?
closure? don't make yourself laugh. you’ll just be reminded of how you couldn't be that person for toji— how you'll always come second. and what if they moved?? there's no reason they'd still be here right?
forget this, you don't need to do this. why must you still be the one who put effort? to reach out? four long years passed and still no news means they clearly moved on... right?
you were convinced enough and was about to go back when you saw little megumi carrying a backpack on his back, seemingly coming home from school.
your feet wouldn't move and your eyes wouldn't blink. he grew up so well.
the world pauses as your gaze follows the kid you used to consider your own, now as good as a stranger.
“do you know that kid?” a voice at your back makes you whip your head around. life really is full of surprises and this time, the surprise was in the form of a tall man, no a tall kid with white hair, looking at you curiously through his round tinted glasses.
“... no i don't” well you weren't exactly lying. you don't know the megumi you see now. perhaps if he asked whether you raised him since he was a baby till he was two, then your answer would've been different.
“oh okay” the boy shrugs. “poor guy though”
“why? whats up with him?” you turn to look at megumi again who was minding his business walking home and your heart aches a little.
“I'm here to recruit him. his dad died you see so he's–”
“wait what was that??”
“his dad. he's dead” the amused boy in front of you chuckles and you stare at him, horrified.
“what happened to him?” your voice was shaky and doesn't sound like your own. he leans down to meet your eye level and smirks “why? i thought you don't know that kid. why does that matter to you?”
your stomach churns as you stare at him, not even knowing what to say— the smug expression on his face only widens.
“so you do know him.”
'know' would be a weak word to use when it comes to toji. you knew of his habits, the simple things he does and also of the more complex ones — like the exact place his scar decorated his lips and how it felt to kiss it.
then again, you don't really know anything about him and maybe you never will.
and maybe that's really, the closure you needed.
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celesteleoves · 7 months ago
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hcs of bakugou / todoroki being a hardcore simp for reader maybe?
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“I WANNA BE YOURS.”
KATSUKI BAKUGOU/SHOTO TODOROKI x fem!reader.
summary: what the request said!
warnings: swearing (bakugou…), mentions of todoroki’s childhood (very brief), that’s it i believe!
a/n: i love this request. i hope i wrote this to your liking!
BAKUGOU KATSUKI —
he is a very subtle simp. you probably wouldn’t even think he liked you if you guys weren’t already dating. the way he shows his love for you is… questionable.
he does the simple things like following you around like a lost puppy (even though he swears he does NOT) .
he’ll definitely demand you never leave his side so he can always be there to protect you.
“you’re so weak, you need me to be there to protect you at all times.”
you’ll just nod, enjoying your boyfriends presence. (he’s actually geeking over you aswell and the fact you grace him with your presence).
he takes you everywhere with him and doesn’t care about what anyone says. oh, aizawa paired him up with kirishima? you’re coming with. you can’t stay a second away from him before he’s rushing around like a headless chicken looking for you.
your biggest fan by far, anything you do he’s practically on the floor worshipping you. then the next second he’ll be calling your outfit disgusting in the sweetest way possible.
he’ll also deny the fact he’s a simp for you. one time, kirishima caught the poor boy gazing at you, dare i say LOVINGLY, across the room as you did a mundane task.
kirishima has never grinned wider than he did when he noticed this. your boyfriend noticed the quiet chuckles leaving his friend and turned towards him.
“what the fuck are you laughing at?”
“you stalking y/n!”
“I WAS NOT STARING AT HER.” sure… liar. you literally just outed yourself…
bakugou loved you, even though he shows it in his weird, weird ways.
SHOTO TODOROKI —
the sweetest, sweetest boyfriend ever. literally the ideal boyfriend anyone could have SIMPLY because of how doting he is towards his partner.
he’s absolutely enamoured with you. he isn’t shameful about it either! (referencing one of my other head-canons) .
this boy will downright show his love for you.
we all know shoto has a hard time with social cues, he blames it on his childhood and the lack of social times he had – always being isolated.
that’s also the reason why he doesn’t understand why he can’t stare you down like a hawk and not expect people to be slightly worried… why is he staring at you like he wants to eat you?
cuteness aggression is a thing. you both get it when you’re with each other.
you can’t believe you managed to secure this boy. he never opened up to just anyone, yet for you he made an exception. you flew that all the time.
meanwhile your boyfriend is still in denial you two are dating. every time you bring up your realtionship he’s blushing like a maniac and shying away from you.
your classmates notice the little things. such as you placing your phone face up only for it to be face down a couple seconds later because todoroki fixed it for you knowing you don’t want people staring at every notification on your phone (this is so me guys i’m sorry).
he is very attentive, he’s such a simp. he’ll pick up on the little things. sometimes, you feel like he knows you better than you know yourself.
there was definitely one time you had been making yourself a snack in the kitchen, forgetting to get one of your favourite piece of food for the snack .
once your snack was made, you frowned at the missing piece of your food you wanted.
starting to get upset, you looked around for something to make up for this.
“here.” a soft voice spoke causing you to relax at the sound of todorokis gentle tone.
“i can’t find my-”
“y/n. here.”
you looked at your boyfriends hand, noticing he was holding multiple variations of the missing food item you craved.
your lips trembled at his thoughtfulness and you pulled your boyfriend in for a hug as he returned it with a soft smile on his face.
he’s too sweet for you and such a simp!
a/n: guys, bare with me if there is spelling errors. this was not proof-read! i hope this was good enough, it was kind of short.
SEND REQUESTS! 🤍🤍
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brbgottagetkfc · 3 months ago
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Is it over now....?
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✦ nasty arguments with jjk men that escalates (pt. 1)
✦ tw: manipulation, gaslighting, name-calling, toxicity angst, no happy ending :(
✦ conts. Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru ✦ the aftermath
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4K notes · View notes
chuluoyi · 3 months ago
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𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
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- zayne x reader
he is your husband and you are his wife. but of course you know the bitter truth—you will never be able to replace her.
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—angst, hurt/comfort, unrequited love, drunken sex, mentions of injury, blood, hunter!reader (not l&ds mc -> l&ds mc is zayne's late ex-girlfriend here), spoilers! from zayne’s bond story nostalgic sweetness
note: wc. 8k ! i've been having these bits and pieces scenarios for zayne in mind and then i thought what if i combined it all into one angst joyride? :)) tagging per request: @kissxcore @rjreins @i2s2m @tom-pls-fuck-me @yueyoonie @sanriosatoru
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07.15 p.m
Zayne would be getting off work soon. He had just finished an emergency surgery, and it had been exhausting. Now it was quite late.
“Dr. Zayne! Great job today!” Greyson exclaimed, suddenly strolling into his consultation room with a grin. “Want to grab dinner with us?”
Honestly, he was starving too. “Where?”
“Oh, you know, that new place that just opened nearby! They have the tastiest tiramisu, or so I’ve heard. C’mon, we’re inviting the nurses too!”
He knew he needed to head home soon, but fatigue and hunger blurred his thoughts at the mention of dessert.
“Alright.”
. . .
08.25 p.m
Getting together with the hospital staff was always nice. They were rowdy, but it was definitely a great way to unwind after a hard day.
The tiramisu was as great as Greyson said. Speaking of his assistant, he and Yvonne were having a blast. Other doctors were getting drunk. Zayne could only shake his head, and it suddenly dawned on him that he had been here quite a while.
It was only when he turned on his phone and saw the time that he realized, with sinking heart that—
He was supposed to meet you at six.
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If you were asked how you felt about your life now, you’d be hard-pressed to say you were completely content.
You were a stellar fighter in the Hunter Association, more than content with your job, and you had a good husband. To some, you had what they would call the perfect life.
The wife of the Dr. Zayne. True, it was a flattering title, yet unbeknownst to everyone, also a humbling one.
And the notion struck you once again when your husband of almost two years stood you up on your dinner date without so much as a notice.
“Miss... we’re about to close now...” The waitress approached your table for at least the third time, and you nodded sheepishly, finally finishing your meal.
You paid for it and left the restaurant. The chilly night air hit your skin, giving you goosebumps as you walked home. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Granted, Zayne had a packed schedule, and you figured he might've had an urgent matter to attend to that he forgot to let you know.
Still... it hurts. Knowing you were not a priority in your husband’s eyes wasn’t a fun feeling.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket the moment you arrived at your shared home. Your husband’s name flashed on your screen. The time now was 08.40 p.m.
“Hello, Zayne?”
“Y/N?” Your husband’s voice sounded frantic. “Are you still at the restaurant? I’m going—”
“Ah, no need to. I’m going home.”
“I’ll pick you up then. Stay there—”
“I’ve already arrived.”
An awkward silence settled between you, and you could clearly hear the noise on the other end. Greyson’s laughter was unmistakable.
You forced a laugh, still trying to sound cheerful for him even when realizing that he had completely forgotten about you. “It’s totally fine, Zayne! Are you heading back?”
“Yeah...”
“Take care then. See you at home.”
You ended the call with a sigh, trying to shake off the sting in your heart. As you made your way upstairs to your bedroom, you passed by a large portrait on the wall, and a bittersweet sensation washed over you.
Your wedding photo. Both of you were smiling on what was the most wonderful day of your life. Zayne’s smile was reserved, but yours was radiant.
It is the most wonderful thing that has happened to you... but is it the same for him?
At that time, despite everything, you were convinced a lifetime of happiness awaited you, yet now... it got harder to fool yourself into believing it.
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Your marriage has always been lukewarm.
Zayne wasn’t an overly excited person, and you were his opposite—but try as you might, some things between you just didn’t work out. As a result, both of you tended to keep certain things to yourselves.
Most days, this didn't bother him. He valued his privacy, so the way things were suited him just fine. However, several days later, when Greyson approached him with a worried expression and a news, even Zayne had to draw the line.
“Dr. Zayne? Uh, how do I say this? I think I saw your wife being wheeled in earlier with the injured from the hunt zones raid…”
. . .
“Your husband is a doctor here. Why aren’t you calling him?”
Xavier, your fellow Deepspace Hunter who was partnered with you in this mission, questioned you with a hint of annoyance as he observed your pathetic state on the stretcher and crossed his arms. “Why do you have to bleed out in ER when you can get him?”
You winced, pressing the bloodied cloth against your stinging abdomen as you felt yourself growing faint. “He’s... a surgeon,” you panted. “He’s busy.”
Above all, you didn’t want Zayne to see you like this. You could already imagine his angry face, and that mental image alone made you recoil.
“What sort of husband is busy when his wife is injured?” Xavier raised an eyebrow. “Did you at least notify him?”
You shut your eyes, feeling a migraine coming.
“I will then.”
“No.”
“Y/N, you—”
“Shut up, Xavier—”
The curtain was suddenly pulled back, and you braced yourself for whoever had come to check on you next. To your surprise, the cloth in your hand was snatched away, and you felt your uniform being torn open with urgency.
When you opened your eyes, you barely made out your husband’s figure through your hazy vision. “…Zayne?”
His expression was stern, unforgiving even, as he started to disinfect your wound. Despite the tension, you couldn't deny the relief that washed over you. You knew you were in good hands, even if you had to face his fury later on.
Your consciousness slipped away not long after that.
. . .
The next time you woke up, you found yourself in a private room, with a nagging itch where you had been injured.
You groaned, your limbs stiff and heavy, and the room slowly came into focus—along with your husband's face.
"Zayne?" Your voice came out barely above a whisper. He stood pristine in his white coat and glasses, assessing you with a scrutinizing gaze.
"Your wound is, thankfully, shallow," he said flatly, his tone lacking any real concern. "You'll be discharged tonight. I'll take you home as soon as my shift is over."
"Ah..." You blinked several times to clear your head. "Good then. Sorry for showing up out of nowhere. Xavier and I were on a rescue mission, and I accidentally—"
He walked away before you could finish, the abruptness snapping you fully awake. He was furious, that much was clear.
"Ha ha..." You forced a laugh, fiddling with your fingers, trying to ease the awkward tension between you. "It doesn't hurt much, actually. You're right—I'm fine..."
Zayne shot you a sharp glance. "You passed out due to blood loss."
"This isn't the first time it has happened and nor will it be—"
"And it didn't even occur to you to inform me at all. I found out that my own wife was wounded because Greyson passed by the ER and saw you."
His words left you silent, caught red-handed, but your annoyance was reaching its limit. You had imagined how nice it would be if he panicked about you, showering you with care when he found out. But instead, Zayne chose to rebuke you the moment you woke up.
“I’m not a child,” you reasoned, keeping yourself calm. “I’m a hunter. This is nothing new, and you should understand that.”
“The least you could’ve done is to tell me—“
“Do you know why I didn’t? It’s because I know how you’ll react!”
“—and it would do you better to prioritize your safety and not rush headfirst into danger.”
“Believe me, I do but—!”
Suddenly, Zayne spun around to face you, his eyes blazing with fury as he raised his voice. “I’ve told you so many times already, you have to stay back, or you’ll end up—!”
He stopped abruptly, leaving his sentence hanging in the air, but right at that moment, you knew all too well who he meant, and what the implication was.
His, without a doubt, greatest love. His childhood friend, a hunter like yourself, someone he had vowed to save but succumbed to her illness before he could do so, died on arrival.
The irony was sharp. You had become everything she once was. You knew her well, too. When she passed, the entire Hunter Association mourned her loss. And more than that, on the night she died, you had been with him.
Looking back, you should have seen it coming. Still, it hit you like a splash of cold water. Your husband was still preoccupied with thoughts of his ex-girlfriend, and worse yet, he saw pieces of her in you.
And you suspected he had for a while—perhaps even, from the very beginning.
For a second there, not for the first time, you felt your heart shatter.
“I don’t have Protocore syndrome,” you stated, steeling yourself against the heartbreak. “My heart won't suddenly fail because I get injured. I’m not that weak.”
You turned away as Zayne refused to respond, missing his look of disdain as he stormed out of the room.
That was when your first tear fell.
Right from the start, you knew you had to brace yourself for this. You knew that eventually, this tragedy would overshadow your marriage. Because while Zayne might be your husband by law, deep down, his heart still belonged to someone else.
To her.
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You two are too much alike.
It wasn’t the first time he had noticed it. And it wouldn’t be the last.
On bad mornings, when his eyes were bleary and he hadn't had a good sleep, he would see her instead of you in your shared bed. And with that mistaken sight came a fleeting sense of relief... until his vision cleared and he remembered she was truly gone and it was you.
Zayne knew how wrong this was on so many levels. It was terribly unfair to you.
Still, his concern for you was genuine. Seeing you lying still on the stretcher brought back that very same nightmare, and really, he truly never wanted you to be hurt.
After his outburst and your clipped response, the two of you barely exchanged any words for the rest of the week. To make matters worse, he was sent on a business trip the following week, and all in all, you went two weeks hardly speaking to each other.
And before he knew it, her death anniversary was only a couple of days away.
. . .
"How much is this?"
"Ah, the bow is 50,000 Gold, sir!"
Inside the airport's souvenir shop, Zayne examined the intricate light blue and white bow clip. Made of tweed and adorned with small pearls, it looked nice.
He thought it'd suit you well.
"I'll get this then."
"Right away!"
As the clerk went to wrap the trinket, Zayne reflected on these past two weeks. A nagging feeling twisted in his gut as he thought about how curt he had been with you in text messages and how often you had left him on read.
Husband and wife shouldn't be this way. He wanted the unbearable air between you to end. Determined to resolve things, he planned to talk to you when he returned. He was on his way to the airport taxi when—
"Zayne!" He stopped in his tracks, recognizing the familiar voice, and turned around.
There you were, waiting by his car with a smile.
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It was never in you to stay angry for long. It was a blessing and a curse, really, because while you no longer wished to give your husband silent treatment, a part of you still felt conflicted.
"How was your trip?" you asked as you started the engine, pushing the events of the past two weeks to the back of your mind.
Zayne didn't immediately answer, and you felt his gaze on you as you drove the car. "It was okay."
You hummed in acknowledgement, and he followed up with, "How is your wound? Do you dress it daily?"
"Mm-hm. It's getting better."
"I'll have a look at it later."
"Sure."
Silence. Usually you would ramble to distract him, but now, even you weren’t sure if you should.
Then, he said, "You really didn’t have to pick me up. I could have made my way home on my own."
To that, you pasted on a smile. “You always pick me up whenever I have to go on business trips. It’s only fair I do the same for you, husband.”
Ah. Was it the wrong move? The word had slipped out so easily that you didn’t realize it until after you said it.
But to your surprise, Zayne let out a chuckle and played along. "Well, thank you then, wife. It certainly felt quite off without a certain someone the past week."
So, he actually likes having you around...? The thought made you almost giddy. Despite his usual taciturn and sarcastic demeanor, you knew he was genuine in his own way.
"Bet you missed me," you teased, grinning.
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you sure it's not the other way around?"
"Nope. But I did miss getting new snowmen."
"...why do you like them so much? I've made plenty for you already."
"No particular reason. Snowman just kinda reminds me of you somehow."
The tension between you had melted away, and you felt a sense of relief. Beside you, even Zayne couldn’t hide his smile. For the rest of the drive home, you chatted like you used to.
When you arrived back at your shared home, he suddenly stopped and presented you with a little box. "I got you something."
"Huh?" you paused, bewildered, as he took your hand and placed the box in it.
"Open it."
With curiosity, you lifted the lid, and were surprised at the sight of a pretty bow clip inside. "Whoa, how cute..."
Zayne eyed you expectantly. "Do you like it?"
Your eyes lit up with delight, and a smile spread across your lips.
"Yes!" you beamed at him with zero hesitation, and in that moment, something struck a chord within him. Zayne had always thought you were easy on the eyes—
—but when you smiled like that, you were truly charming.
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"It's healing nicely."
You felt somewhat self-conscious as your husband examined your bare abdomen, where your injury was, as you lied on your bed. His hands, cool and practiced, tenderly removed your stitches.
It wasn't as if Zayne had never touched you. You two had been married for almost two years, and of course you had been intimate several times, but it wasn't as if you were a passionate couple to begin with—so you often found yourself flustered.
"Mm." Despite yourself, you squirmed. Noticing this, he looked up at you, his unfazed eyes meeting yours with a frown.
"Does it still hurt?"
"No, not really... It just feels as if you're tickling me."
He was positively unamused. "I'm not trying to tickle you."
"I know!"
Zayne wrapped your midsection securely with the bandage. When he was done, he let out a sigh and you felt like you had to show him your gratitude somehow.
“Thank you, Zayne…” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. But in the next second, your heart skipped a beat as his hand rested gently on your head.
"You can thank me by being more careful next time." Your husband looked at you with the smallest of smile. "Your safety comes first, always remember that."
Without either of you realizing it, you both had tried to bury that argument from two weeks ago, yet it was still gnawing at you all the same. The thought that he too was bothered with it made you warm.
"Noted," you cheekily grinned. "If I'm not safe and sound, a certain iceman will get angry at me."
Zayne shot you an unimpressed look. “If you come to me injured again, I’ll start charging you fees.”
You let out a dramatic gasp. "How stingy! I'm your wife, not just some stranger!"
"A very uncooperative wife, you are."
You huffed, and he chuckled. You really thought all was well between you two now, until Zayne suddenly stood up and grabbed the car keys. “Well then, rest. I have to go.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to stop by the florist—”
And it hit you. In two days. The day everything ended three years ago.
Zayne seemed to realize it too, but you quickly masked your falling smile with a faux one. "O-oh, right..."
No matter how, it's still going to be an important day to him. You had nothing against it, really. Your husband's late girlfriend had once been your colleague too, and you mourned her just like everyone else did.
Still, even with that understanding, in your heart of hearts, it remains just as bitter.
You didn't want to, but you needed to find closure. You hoped that by doing this, it would finally put an end to all your insecurities.
"Let's go together, Zayne. I want to pay her a visit too."
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Two days later, you and Zayne, a bouquet of flowers in hand, stood before the grave bearing many colorful flowers and postcards.
You supposed you knew already, but seeing it firsthand, you realized just how deeply she was loved still. The outpouring of respect from the Hunter Association was evident in the tribute left behind.
"It's been a while," Zayne, dressed in his most formal black suit, said solemnly, his gaze fixed on the name etched into the pristine stone.
You watched as he knelt to place his flowers and then brought his hands together in prayer. You followed his lead, placing your own bouquet beside his.
What should you even say to her? Your mind raced with countless thoughts, but none felt right to voice before the woman who had so deeply captured your husband's heart.
In the end, when you sensed that Zayne had finished with his prayer, you decided to remain silent and rose with him.
. . .
“Does it get easier?” you asked out of curiosity afterwards. “Three years has passed already.”
Although Zayne wasn’t one for drinking, even the need won today. He didn’t meet your eyes as he sipped his wine, humming thoughtfully. “Somewhat. As they say, time heals.”
You two stopped by a fine restaurant after visiting the grave. The cemetery had been a two-hour drive from Linkon City, and now it was already evening.
“She loved jasmines,” you remarked, recalling the pot of them you once saw on her desk and the flowers overflowing at the grave earlier.
“She did.” The alcohol seemed to loosen his tongue as he continued, “She loved old popsicles and macarons too.”
“And you like them as well.”
“To be honest, I started liking them back when we were kids…” Zayne had this pained, faraway look in his eyes as he had another sip. “She cried over her melted popsicle and it got me to wonder if it was really that tasty...”
The idea that you had to compete with a dead woman for your husband’s affection left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like you had failed thoroughly as a woman.
Despite hating yourself for asking, you needed to know. “Do I help you… in any way at all?”
Zayne was clearly taken aback by the question. His sharp, gray eyes locked onto you, mind whirred as he tried to grasp your meaning.
“Y/N, you...”
It was foolish, you knew. But you waited with bated breath for his response, even when one wrong word could shatter your heart beyond repair. You were ready for any sort of unfavorable answer, but then—
“I... am glad it is you.”
His words made you look up, and you found yourself caught in his gaze. Zayne’s ashen eyes were steady, piercing into you.
“You were there on the hardest days. And ever since, you’ve always stayed by my side.” He held your gaze firmly, voice was thick with emotion you couldn’t quite name. “I’m grateful for that.”
And then, with a sincerity that pierced through every uncertainty, he added, “What I want to say is... I’m glad I married you, Y/N.”
You have loved him for so long. Since the days when you know he isn’t yours to love, until now.
Your heart swelled with so much warmth that tears brimmed in your eyes. His acknowledgment of your presence filled you with a profound sense of belonging you never knew you needed before.
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Was it the alcohol?
You suspected it might be, because in nearly two years of marriage, Zayne had never lost his control like this. As soon as the bedroom door was shut, he pushed you against the wall and devoured your lips hungrily.
“Mmph!” His hands gripped your arms while his lips and tongue pried yours open. The kiss was searing, almost forceful, with the faint bitterness of wine still lingering.
“Zay…ne…” you gasped between his kisses—teary, breathless, your voice trembling.
But your breathy grunts only seemed to spur him on. His dark eyes, clouded with lust, fixed on you as his hands slipped beneath your blouse, deftly unclasping your bra with a flick.
He is hot. Your husband was everything a woman desired in a man. Cool, handsome, blessed with hands that could do wonders—
In no time, he had you naked and wet before him, and with alarming speed, he too discarded his own suit and pants, throwing them away in flurry. And you could hardly believe what you were seeing next.
He spitted on his hand, ran it along his member—stroking himself with a practiced ease, never breaking eye contact with you. The next thing you knew, he yanked you into another burning kiss and made you topple on top of him—
“Ah!” his hands guided your hips with precision, positioning you and entering you. The instant he did, you whimpered at the sudden, sharp sting of pain.
“Does it hurt?” he asked almost in a growl when you clung to his shoulder with uneven breaths.
It was too sudden, and you hoped the discomfort would pass, so you timidly shook your head.
“If you don’t want this, tell me to stop.” Zayne tangled his fingers in your hair, turning your face to his. “Understand?”
There was always a distinct, almost commanding aura about him whenever the two of you were in your marital bed. Perhaps the way his voice sound lower, but it just hit different.
And you are a willing prey... whenever he becomes that beast.
He inched inside you slowly, making you moan with each instance. He was thick, warm, and taking him in was a challenge in itself. And when he finally sheathed himself fully, your nails had made its first scratch on his skin.
You felt full, and the way your womanhood stretched and clenched around him with each breathe you took made you dizzy. Panting, you finally met his gaze. Zayne’s silver eyes were still clouded with desire as he placed his hands firmly on your hips. Unable to resist, you reached out to caress his face.
"Hmm..." he subconsciously leaned into your touch, pressing his eyes shut together. "You smell nice," he huskily muttered.
Right this moment, all negative thoughts eluded you. It felt gratifying that your husband sought your touch like this as you towered over him.
And yet, despite that...
“Do you... finally see me now?” you asked, trailing your other hand down his toned chest and starting to grind against him. Zayne drew in a sharp breath and groaned, his fingers gripping your bum tighter.
Depending on his response, you would either find peace or face another heartbreak. You had placed your happiness on this pedestal more times than you could count, and it was a cross you had to bear.
But you never received your answer.
Your husband merely gazed up at you with a dangerous gleam. And oh, you could've sworn, this sight of Zayne eyeing you as if he were about to ruin you right then and there, would live-free in your mind for many days to come.
He then buried his face in your bosom, sucking on you with such fervor that your hands instinctively reached for his head to massage his scalp. The room was soon filled with your erotic groans and the squelching sounds from where your flesh were joined together— as he thrusted inside you over and over.
Right in this moment, you felt truly desired and wanted.
You are so happy. Incomparably so.
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At the crack of dawn, Zayne woke with a start.
The first thing he noticed was how spent he felt, his limbs stiff and a throbbing headache pulsing at the back of his head.
Then he turned to his side, and the sight that met him twisted his gut in such a way that snapped him fully awake—
You were beside him, barely dressed and still deeply asleep. Your hair was a mess, and love bites were scattered across your skin, some on your chest looking almost like bruises.
It dawned on him that he, too, wasn’t decent. A sudden coldness gripped him, though it wasn’t just the morning air.
Him and you... last night...
Yesterday marked the third year. He meant everything he said to you, but the fact that he did this, with you, on the day of her death...
There was... nothing wrong with what he had done. You were his wife, no one could condone him for what he instigated. Yet, it still made him shiver.
And to make it worse, his thoughts from last night echoed back with vengeance, and—
He suddenly feels so immensely guilty.
. . .
It was the best sleep you’d had all week.
When you woke, sunlight had seeped through the window, and you discovered yourself already in pajamas, tucked snugly under a blanket. Still groggy with a dull ache in your lower belly, you relished the lingering afterglow, sighing in pure contentment, until you noticed Zayne wasn’t beside you.
Where did he go? You wondered amidst your haze. Sluggish, you stumbled out of the bed, flinching when your foot met the cold floor.
You eventually found him downstairs, sipping coffee at the dining table still with messy hair. "Zayne?"
He glanced up at you and nodded. There was something different about him, a subtle shift you couldn’t quite place. As you took a seat across from him, you hesitated, unsure of what to say.
Before you could find the right words though, he spoke first.
"I'm... sorry," he said, his tone laced with regret, causing a sharp pang of unease inside you.
"What?" you stared at him, feeling small and unsettled. "What are you sorry for?" you questioned as you gripped the hem of your shirt.
And then came the killing blow—
"Last night," Zayne muttered, avoiding your gaze. "I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. It was a mistake."
Mistake. The word echoed in your mind, but it was still hard to grasp its full weight.
"How was that—" you faltered, trembling, as the realization hit you like a truck and you gasped in disbelief. "Oh..."
Her. Again, and again, and again! Even when he was married to you, even when you were the one next to him each and everyday— even so!
Your husband considers that a night spent with you—his wife—a mistake!
The last of your patience snapped, as you broke down in sobs before him. "You're the worst!" you screamed at him amidst your mournful tears.
Zayne seemed taken aback at your outburst, his eyes wide. "Y/N, wait, you don't—"
"Screw you!" But you were beyond explanations at this point. You fled back to your bedroom. Zayne followed you suit, but you slammed the door in his face and locked it. As you collapsed onto the floor, the realization hit you with full force.
No matter what you did, you would always come second—or not at all.
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The fracture in your marriage was undeniable.
Things had changed. Your home felt colder, and the tension was so stifling that you sometimes spent the night at the Hunter Association’s dorm just to escape it.
Zayne initially tried to reach out, but you were unwilling to listen, and eventually, he gave up. Before long, nearly a month had passed with this strain in the air.
You threw yourself into more rescue operations, using work as a distraction from the turmoil that lingered in your mind. Despite your best efforts to distract yourself, the unresolved thoughts and feelings clung to you.
"Xavier, am I lacking as a woman?"
Your frequent partner these days cracked open an eye despite his attempt to nap before today’s rescue mission. "What...?"
"No, forget it."
Things couldn't go like this forever. It was obvious by now—as long as he couldn’t let go of his past and you couldn’t accept him as he was, this marriage couldn't be saved.
Just as you headed towards the printer in the room, Xavier responded. "You talk a lot, eat a lot, and always bothering me when I'm about to sleep..."
You shot him an irked glance, disbelief evident on your face. "Hey!"
"But—" his clear voice cut through the air as he turned to you with half-lidded eyes. "You're exceptionally kind. If anyone can't appreciate that, then it's their loss."
At that moment, the ice inside your chest melted. To know that your own co-worker thought that kindly of you gave you a little boost of confidence.
But then Xavier added, "Sometimes you're stupid too. It's funny to watch."
"—?! You're so mean!"
A subtle smile curved on his lips as he turned to his side, ready to resume his nap. "Anyway, what are you printing?"
You feigned a huff as you gathered the papers and brought them to your desk. "Just something I need to submit when necessary."
A part of you wasn’t fully committed to it, of course—it was just that your emotions had no proper outlet even until now. As you pushed the drawer shut, a wave of bitterness washed over you as you reread the title on the blank form:
Petition for Divorce.
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Zayne genuinely wanted to treat you well.
You were a nice girl. Too nice even. From the moment he laid his eyes on you some years ago, as a friend of a friend, he knew you were nothing but kind and cheery.
He still remembered that morning vividly: the hurt on your face, the tears welling up in your eyes, and then you breaking into inconsolable sobs. That sight inflicted something in him—it felt as though his own heart had been split in two.
Believe it or not, he cherished you too.
That night, even though he didn’t show it, he was still mourning her. When alcohol took over his mind and he saw you, you seemed like a perfect escape. He thought that even if he forced himself on you, there would be no consequences.
He hated that he had thought that way. He hated that how, in the end, you had become a means of relief for him.
Now you couldn't even look him in the eye, and Zayne didn't want to risk trying to coax you further. You were angry with him and rightly so, but when you ignored him and went home late more often, he was worried.
It was what drove him to volunteer for the rescue mission. When he saw your name on the hunter list, he felt compelled to make sure you were okay.
. . .
It was strange to see you on duty.
With your hunter uniform and your hair tied up, you were the picture of a very capable hunter. Zayne found himself unexpectedly following your movements as you came and went.
"Dr. Zayne, are you checking your wife out?" the EMT next to him teased with a grin. "Well, when you have a pretty wife such as Y/N, of course..."
He cleared his throat and the EMT giggled as he sauntered away.
So, you were also considered attractive here. Of course you were. Zayne knew it, but he just didn't expect that anyone here would blurt it out so openly.
But that wasn't the most surprising of all—
"Xavier, shush!" you playfully punched the blonde man next to you in the chest, your broad smile lighting up the moment. The two of you whispered closely, and Zayne found himself feeling uncomfortable, like being prickled by several needles.
He has never made you laugh so openly like that. The nagging feeling inside him grew stronger as he watched you—even if it was just in a platonic sense—with another man. It stirred something within him, making him want to pull that blonde aside, give him a word or two, and overthrow him altogether.
Amidst the growing storm inside him, you suddenly turned sideways and caught his eye, and Zayne could've sworn... he felt time stopped at that moment.
It was so candid that it took his breath away. The way your earnest, unclouded eyes met his. How natural you were while loading your gun...
Ah, they were right. His wife was exceptionally pretty.
But before he could fully appreciate it, you broke the eye contact and turned away, pretending as if you hadn’t seen him at all.
Zayne wondered then, why did he feel so hurt all of a sudden?
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Battlefields were always a place of chaos, and Zayne was no stranger to it.
He was on standby at the makeshift hospital as patients surged in, continuously aiding first-aid. Some were hunters on duty, and his heart was in his throat the entire time, anxiously hoping you wouldn’t be among them.
"Doc... it still hurts," a little girl sniffled right after Zayne wrapped her injured arm with the gauze. Despite the anxiety, seeing this tearful girl softened his frown.
"It's just going to take a while, hmm?" he patted the kid in the head. "It's going to be better soon enough."
"My mom is still inside..." she said, her eyes welling up with tears. "Doc, will they get her out?"
Zayne hesitated, his thoughts briefly drifting to you. He managed a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry, they’ll—"
Crash! —all of a sudden, a loud explosion shook the hospital, the sound echoing through the chaos. The little girl clung to his coat in fear.
"Call for retreat!" someone suddenly shouted from outside. "Alert all personnel immediately!"
Retreat. The thought that you might be safe soon brought him a sense of relief. He turned to the girl, trying to keep his composure.
"Look, the hunters are retreating, it means most are already evacuated." Zayne managed a reassuring smile. "Stay here. I'll help you find her later, okay?"
He went to the survivors' camp outside, attending to the wounded and keeping a vigilant eye on each returning hunter. Even until 30 minutes later, he still hadn't seen you. Thinking to contact you, he reached out for his phone.
"Who hasn't gotten out?" Jenna, your team leader, demanded the receiver with a stern voice, standing tall several feet away from the camp, and Zayne overheard the snippets of her conversation.
A frantic voice responded, "Xavier is still inside! Y/N too!"
"Those two! They are always—!"
What?
Zayne almost dropped his phone when he heard your name. Terror gripped him instantly, and then suddenly, again, it was his greatest nightmare realized.
You are still inside. You could be hurt. It was possible you had no means to get out of there.
He didn’t register letting go of his coat or crossing the police line—all that mattered was getting to you. He sprinted away, ignoring the shouts of those trying to stop him.
No. Not again!
Debris flew everywhere, and the roars of Wanderers grew louder as he neared the building wreckage. As a splinter was about to hit him, ice shot through his palms, creating a barrier that shattered it.
"Y/N!" he shouted your name, his voice cracking with panic. "Where are you?!"
All he could think about was the memory of you bleeding out in the ER. Zayne never wanted to see that again. Should anything happen to you now...
He didn't want you to be hurt. He hated seeing you cry. For the past weeks, it had torn him apart to see you so unhappy. He wanted to be the one who made you smile, the one you looked at with love.
The realization washed over him like a tidal wave. Yet it wasn’t an epiphany but a simple truth he had always known but never fully grasped until now.
If he lost you now, it'd destroy him.
He continued screaming your name over and over. And then, after turning several turns, he finally saw you, standing alone in the middle of the wreckage—
You turned to him in surprise when you heard your name in his shout, and were rooted to the spot, in disbelief that your husband was right before you.
Zayne felt a wave of relief wash over him, until a hollow croak from above caught his attention. He squinted—
A glass panel had crumbled and was falling directly towards you.
A sense of dread so great overwhelmed him, a lump formed in his throat, and the smoke made it hard to breathe. He sprinted forward, and with everything he had, he pushed you out the way.
The next thing he knew, everything went pitch black.
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"Zayne? Zayne!"
A memory flashed in his mind's eye. The one memory he wished he didn't have to relive ever again.
Sitting on the deserted hospital bench, his eyes were vacant. Utter hollowness choked him, leaving him motionless. It was over. There was no blood on his hands, yet it felt as if there were.
Your grip on his shoulder was tight, shaking him. "Zayne, snap out of it!" and only then he brought himself to meet your eyes.
"She died." That was the only thing he could mutter, pain woven in each word. "She really died."
Your eyes widened in horror, an inaudible gasp left your lips. "Oh..."
He didn't really know what happened next, but he remembered the warmth from when you pulled him to your arms, when sobs wracked his body as he thought the world was ending.
Since then, you have always been there.
And subconsciously, he may have regarded you as his lifeline.
. . .
Another memory.
"Are you awake...?"
His mind was hazy, but he recognized your voice. He blearily opened his eyes to find you placing a cool compress on his forehead.
"Who would have thought the great Dr. Zayne can get a fever?" you said with a soft laugh, patting his hair. "Don’t worry about me. Go back to sleep."
You came to see him. He remembered telling you not to. But you still did, and the fact thawed the ice in his heart.
Just as you were about to leave, his hand reached out and pulled you closer. "Don’t go."
"Are you trying to make me catch your cold too?" you teased with a soft laugh.
"Hmph. Who told you to come here...?"
"Ah, so you're whiny when you're not feeling well," you observed with a smile. "Okay, I'll stay! But only if you agree to nurse me if I catch your cold!"
You were noisy, but endearingly so.
. . .
"Don't pay her any mind," you fidgeted on your seat, a frown on your face. "My mom always does that."
There was never any talk about the nature your relationship between the two of you, but it was clear to everyone nevertheless. You were always around him, and he seemed to enjoy your company just as much.
And not for the first time, your mother pushed him towards marriage with you.
"People are always getting the wrong idea," you grumbled. "Sorry, Zayne..." you lowered your head, seemingly in regret.
He was puzzled, because to him, it wasn't necessarily false. All things you did together lead to this.
"What if it isn't a wrong idea at all?"
You looked at him with slight surprise. "Huh...?"
Your presence was a gift. That tragedy was devastating, but having you constantly by his side made it bearable. He was fond of you, and the thought that if it's you, then surely...
In this memory, he was more sure than ever. What he said then, it came from the truest place in his heart.
"What if I told you... as of right now, I can't imagine being with anyone but you?"
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The side of his head was throbbing with pain. Everything hurt, the hard asphalt was bruising his face as the headache set in. He could smell the scent of blood and sweat, but more than that—
"Zayne! Ah, hah— Please, please! No!"
Your voice, choked with tears, blared in his ears as you desperately shook him. You sounded so heartbroken, so utterly panicked, and your voice gradually pulled him back to consciousness.
Opening his eyes took tremendous effort. At first, everything was a blur, but then it came into focus—the sight of you disheveled, smeared with soot, with tears streaming down your face. But still you— the woman he had married two years ago.
Yet his heart lurched. You're crying again... why is it that whenever with me, you're always crying?
"Are you... alright?" he rasped, lifting his hand to touch your face.
"Why did you—" You were startled by his question, your gaze fixed on the blood pooling on the side of his face. "Your head is bleeding!"
Ah, so you're fine. The sheer knowledge brought him relief, a faint smile forming at his lips. "I'm glad..."
"I'll help you get back! Hold onto me—" you said after brushing away your tears, lifting him up and draping his arm around your shoulder. "Can you walk?"
"I'm... fine..."
"You're not!" you refuted harshly, voice trembling. "You have to go back!"
You made him lean on you as you made your way back to the makeshift hospital, each step accompanied by your sniffles as you supported his waist.
Zayne glanced at you, feeling a warmth in his chest despite the migraine. "D-Don't cry... I'll be fine."
"You're an idiot!" you choked out, struggling to hold back your tears. "Why did you even come out here?"
"I... have to find you. They said you haven't returned."
"There are still civilians inside! I'll return eventually!"
"I can’t wait for that. I... have to know you're safe."
His response only fueled your frustration. "You don't have to—!"
"You are my wife—" he snapped, turning to you sharply, his eyes flashing with anger. "How can I not worry— for you?"
The forceful tone in his voice went straight to the most tender part of your heart. It really struck you at that moment that he had come out here for you, that his concern for you was that profound.
And that after all these weeks, he still keeps you in his thoughts.
He had pushed you out of the way, even at the cost of himself, barely missing the fallen billboard in that violent crash. If he was in the wrong position, he could've lost his life.
You stared at him, tears glossing your eyes.
"That's enough... Don't cry again." Zayne reached out to wipe your cheeks. His hands, however, were smeared with his own blood, leaving streaks on your face. "Ah... I got blood on you..."
But in that moment, you couldn’t care less. There was this indescribable sting of grief, but also paired with a sense of relief so great in your chest the very second you realize that now, he sees you.
You threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly as you sobbed, calling out to him in broken voice. “Z-Zayne...!”
“Why are you crying again...?” he let out a resigned sigh, but still embraced you regardless. “What a crybaby...”
You buried your face deeper into him, shaking uncontrollably. “You... saved me...” you managed to say amidst torrent of tears. “Y-You... got hurt...”
“I’ll be fine,” he retorted in your ear albeit in a hoarse voice, holding you close, even as blood trickled down the side of his face. “And I’d do it again. I refuse to see you hurt.”
You cried harder, and he pulled you tighter, his chest aching at the sight of you so inconsolable. And in that moment, he made the decision right then and there.
He will protect you so long as time will allow him to.
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It was as if the invisible wall between you had crumbled to dust after that incident. You stayed by Zayne's side night and day, monitoring his condition.
And one night, several days later...
"Here, don't move..."
You carefully dressed the wound on Zayne's temple, sitting close beside him. He quietly observed your worried eyes and trembling fingers without a word.
"You even need stitches..." you lamented, biting your lip as you wrapped the bandage around his head. Tears pricked your eyes, overwhelmed by the concern you were pouring into the task.
"I'm telling you, I'm fine," he gruffly insisted in an attempt to erase the sadness from your face. He felt the delicate, almost hesitant touch of your fingers on his face. "It'll heal with time."
Even as he said that, a part of you was still troubled at the sight of the wound on his head and cheekbone. No matter what he said, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow your fault.
"I'm done. Now go rest," you said softly, your voice tinged with bitterness after tying the gauze. You rose to put the kit away, but even after you finished, Zayne remained upright on the bed, so you leveled a frown at him.
"What, why aren't you— Ah!"
Before you knew it, he pulled you by the arm, and you tumbled into his chest in surprise. "What are you doing?!" you yelled at him, clinging to his shoulder and looking up at him with ire. "You could've hit your head!"
He looked down at you with a flat expression, or is that a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes? “Can't a husband cuddle his wife?”
You blinked dumbly, caught off-guard. “Yes, you can, but...”
His arms then enveloped you, fitting you on his chest and he sighed against your hair. “Then there’s nothing wrong with it. Let’s just stay like this for now.”
And so, that was how he decided to sleep throughout the night—with you on top of him, held close. You felt self-conscious as Zayne had never initiated this closeness with you since that night.
"Are you sure you want to sleep this way?" you wriggled a bit in his grasp.
He draped an arm around your waist, pressing his eyes shut. "Mm-hm."
"You..." A part of you recoiled at the vulnerability but decided to ask anyway. "Won't this be… a mistake...?"
That caught his attention, as Zayne's eyes fluttered open. He looked down at you, who avoided his gaze with a pout and a torn expression, making yourself small in his embrace.
It dawned on him then that this persisting issue in your marriage was thoroughly his fault. His past was something he could never—and would never—trade for anything, but right now, you were that sense of peace that grounded him.
At one point, he has to let it go. These feelings inside him… they drive him to.
He softened, his gaze full of understanding as he gently brushed your hair back. "No," he said quietly, his voice tender. "We’ve come too far for it to be one."
Your clear, innocent eyes reluctantly met his, and at that moment something akin to clarity resonated within him.
He once thought nothing could ever mend the hollowness in his heart. And once, he indeed hoped that being with you would provide some form of relief or replace what he had lost.
But right now, feeling how vulnerable you were in his arms like this, he understood that you were not, and could never be, a replacement for anything else. Even before he realized it himself, what he felt for you was something entirely different— something dear that had grown and evolved into a genuine affection different from what he had felt for anyone else before.
Those times spent with you, wanting to protect you... Now that he reflected on it, it was never about filling a void, after all.
“I... want to treasure you better.”
Oh. Your heart thumped loudly as those words left his lips, warmth spreading through your entire being. Overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice, you clung to his chest, feeling a surge of love and a profound sense of being freed from the chains of insecurity that had taken you hostage all these years.
Most precious. Zayne smiled at you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
“This time for sure... I will.”
And at last... he could say it without any lingering guilt.
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