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lilasamaaa · 6 months ago

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Havana | Charles Leclerc & Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genre | Angst, Hurt, Smut.

Word count | 5.0K

Warnings | Sexual content, alcohol consumption, cheating, some gaslighting, heartbreak!!

Summary | Reader and Charles, who've been dating for a few years, go on a trip to Cuba between two races. A few days before leaving, they learn that Carlos and Rebecca will be staying at the same resort. Good news, right? Well, if you forget Carlos and reader's years-long mutual attraction. Inspired by the « She chose me/Did she? » trend on TikTok… with a twist.

Author's note | Lord... This was so filthy I'm sorry. This piece is the result of this poll! Wrote half of this listening to These Walls by Dua Lipa, the other with Never Be The Same by Camila Cabello. Just so you get the mood. Not proofread, sorry!

She had been waiting for these holidays for months.

Since the beginning of the season, she hadn't been able to travel with Charles to any race, having no available days off. She was jealous of the others wags. The influencers. The ones who could rearrange their schedules in the blink of an eye to follow their boyfriends to the other side of the world without thinking about the consequences. But she'd foolishly chosen to pursue studies, foolishly found a job in marketing, foolishly trapped herself without even realizing it. She loved her job. Or at least, that's what she repeated to herself every morning when her alarm went off at 6 a.m. Sharp.

She had followed the start of the season through her TV and phone, and had savored every brief moment Charles had spent in Monaco (which represented, like... twenty days, tops, since the beginning of March). She knew she couldn't complain. That she didn't have the right to. She'd chosen to share her life with a high-level and high-profile athlete, and this situation couldn't obviously be all positive. She knew that other women would have sold their souls to be in her place. To wake up next to Charles, even just once a month. So, she never complained. She endured.

Charles had returned from China two days earlier, and they were heading to Cuba this afternoon, preparing for ten days of pure bliss. She was euphoric. Delighted not to set her alarm for the next day, delighted not to see her boss and colleagues for ten days, delighted to spend time with Charles. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. Yet... There was something.

Yesterday night, at the restaurant, as they were making the final preparations, Charles' phone had lit up on the table and the driver had grabbed it, staring at the screen for a few seconds before exclaiming, "Non, j'y crois pas!". She had shot him a questioning look, and her boyfriend had chuckled before saying "Carlos just texted me. Him and Rebecca are staying at the same resort as us in Havana. This is gonna be so cool."

Oh.

She hadn't responded, just smiled, and returned her attention to the plate of pasta in front of her. Carlos was... a friend. Well, it was actually hard to define. He was obviously primarily Charles' friend, but they had crossed paths quite regularly in the past few years, and naturally, they had hit it off. There was just one issue. One tiny thing.

The man drove her crazy. It was ridiculous. Almost humiliating. She had been sharing her life with Charles for four years. She was happy. She was in love! But... She couldn't deny that Carlos made her feel things that Charles never had. Just the thought of acknowledging this made her want to throw up.

She had never acted on her impulses. Absolutely never. But... she could have. She had noticed glances.

It had started one evening at the restaurant, in 2021, when the two Ferrari drivers had organized a double date for their partners to meet. She had immediately loved Isa, with whom she had hit it off right away. The dinner had gone admirably well, the food was amazing, the wine delicious. The wine. There had been too much of it. They all probably thought so, seeing the bottles go by, but no one had stopped. No one wanted to be the one to break the great mood of the evening. So, they’d drank. Again and again.

If at the beginning of the meal, Carlos had just been casting curious glances in her direction, the wine had changed that. By the time Charles was explaining to Isa how they had met, the Spaniard was piercing her with his gaze. Equally intoxicated and never one to back down from a challenge, she had not flinched at the driver's boldness, holding his gaze, not even blinking. It had lasted a minute. Maybe two. Or even five, before Charles had asked her the name of the movie they'd seen on their third date, you know, the one with the mansion, and she’d finally tore her gaze away from Carlos.

"I believe that was Knives Out," she'd replied, smiling fondly at her boyfriend.

The conversation had resumed its course, and a few hours later, the two couples had parted ways. Lying in bed, in the middle of the night, she could still feel Carlos' burning gaze on her. That could have been nothing. She could always blame it on the wine. But there'd been more.

One day, Charles had suggested that she came with him to an interview he was going to do with Carlos. "It won't take long," he had said. "And as soon as it's over, we'll go grab a bite at that Mexican restaurant you love". She had agreed. The questions had started simple.

"What would be your perfect day?"

"What's your pre-race tradition?"

"Describe your ideal woman"

Even though she had been browsing her phone for a while, absorbed by the device, this question had made her look up. Locking eyes with Charles, the driver had smiled at her before answering.

"That's rather easy to answer, because I've already found her. My ideal woman is career-oriented. She works hard, doesn't count her hours. She wants to succeed because she deserves it, not because she's dating me. She excels in everything she undertakes. She sets no limits for herself, fears nothing. Tries everything. She can be uncompromising, but she knows how to be gentle and caring. She has weaknesses, but she only shows them to me. I am her refuge, and she is mine."

She had smiled, touched, blowing a kiss to her boyfriend.

"Carlos?" the interviewer had said.

"My ideal woman..." the Spaniard had started, searching for his words. "Actually, I have the same, erm… taste as Charles. But I would add that my ideal woman isn't afraid to make mistakes. She allows herself to make wrong choices, to take the wrong path. It's okay, she will always find her way back," he had added, looking her straight in the eyes. That bastard can't be for real, she'd thought.

The last... "incident" had occurred at the end of last season. It hadn't been easy, but she had managed to get time off, and she had joined Charles in Abu Dhabi for the last race of the season. Her boyfriend had finished fifth in the championship, and everyone : drivers, engineers, girlfriends, had ended up at the club to celebrate Max's victory.

She wasn't a fan of nightclubs. She was very migraine-prone, and the music, combined with the neon lights, didn't do well with her. Feeling the pain starting behind her eyes, she had signaled to Charles that she was going outside, and despite his insistence, she had convinced him to stay inside, wanting him to enjoy the evening. In the dark corridor leading outside, she had closed her eyes for a second. No more. Just to relieve the pain for a moment. And she had bumped into someone, of course.

The someone being Mister Sainz himself. Of course.

"I'm sorry," she'd said, still rubbing her eyes.

"Are you alright?"

"Just a migraine."

"Here," he'd said, leading her outside. "Let's get some calm."

She was surprised to see no one outside. Granted, it was already late, almost 4 a.m., and many people had left the club already. But still, she'd expected to see a few people. Smokers, at least...

"Charles fought well," Carlos had said, leaning against a wall.

"Yeah. He'll be champion one day."

"Of course," the Spaniard had say, grinning. "He'll have the cup." A pause. "And the girl."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she'd replied, pretending not to understand.

"Everything Charles wants, Charles gets."

She wasn't in the mood for this. Not tonight. Even if she found it hard to meet the Spaniard's gaze. Even if feeling his eyes on her made her shiver. Even if she could feel her lower abdomen tighten every time the driver's smooth voice reached her ears.

"Maybe everything Charles has, Charles fought for," she had replied.

"Oh yeah? Is that the secret?" Carlos had asked, coming closer.

"There's no secret."

"Do you want me to fight for you?" he had added, so close that she could feel his breath on her neck.

"You must have misunderstood," she'd said, finally meeting his gaze. "I'm talking about the championship."

Carlos had let out a laugh. An ironic, mocking laugh. Disappointed, almost. A laugh that meant "You and I understood each other perfectly well, but you won't dare go further". And she hadn't dared. Casting one last glance, she had gone back inside, leaving him alone under the stars of Baku.

She hadn't seen him since. Good riddance.

"I still can't believe it," Charles had said, yesterday night, taking a spoonful of his tiramisu. "At least, you won't be alone when I go golfing. I haven't seen much of Rebecca, but she seems very nice. I'm sure you two will get along well."

"So that's it? Our romantic vacation just turned into a friend's getaway?" she'd asked, almost offended.

"No, of course not. I'm sorry, mon coeur. We'll spend as much time together as possible, but... it could be nice to do a thing or two with them, right? I thought you loved Carlos."

The sentence had overwhelmed her with guilt.

"I like Carlos. I loved Isa, though," she'd answered, pouting, while Charles looked at her with soft eyes.

"Yeah, I know. But we have to come to terms with the fact that we won't see Isa again. Or, at least, not with Carlos." the driver had said, rising from his seat. "I'll pay, will you wait for me outside?"

Three days and three flights later, she's sitting at the hotel restaurant table, facing Carlos, wondering what Charles could have possibly misunderstood in her request a few days earlier. We'll spend as much time together as possible, yeah, right, she thinks, clearly annoyed.

"It's a pleasure to officially meet you, Rebecca," Charles says, giving the model a big smile. "Carlos must only have eyes for you, because I hear about you every other day."

She chokes on her drink. The whole table looks at her.

"Sorry," she says. "Ice cubes."

The conversation resumes, Rebecca proving to be very interesting. And apparently very much in love with Carlos, she thinks as she watches the blue-eyed blonde. She doesn't like the pinch she feels in her heart. She doesn't even want to put a name on it. It doesn't matter.

"I'm so happy that you’re here," Rebecca says after a while. "I can't wait to spend more time with you all," she finishes with a big smile.

"Yeah. Can't wait," Carlos says, turning his gaze away from Rebecca's eyes. Finding hers.

The following days pass without incident. Charles divides his day between the hotel pool, the golf course, and their bed, where they make love several times a day. If for some time she had the feeling that they were less close, everything seems forgotten under the Cuban sun.

One day, while she was riding Charles particularly loudly, the driver's hands digging into her hips in a deliciously painful way, someone had knocked on their bedroom door. Surprised, they had stopped suddenly, like teenagers caught red-handed, before Charles had jumped out of bed, grabbing a towel on the go.

"You're not actually going to open the door, are you?" she had asked, hidden under the sheets, with only her head out.

"You never know, what if it's urgent... Like... A fire?" her boyfriend had replied before opening the door.

It very obviously hadn't been urgent, and she had felt like dying of embarrassment when she'd seen Carlos's smug face on the other side of the door. He'd quickly glanced past Charles to look at her. Very obviously naked.

"Sorry to interrupt," he'd said, accent thick, licking his lips. "We had agreed to meet ten minutes ago to go play tennis."

"Did we? Oh my god, I'm sorry," Charles had said, closing the door behind him, running to the bathroom to change. Ten minutes later, both of them had left and she’d found herself alone in the room. Hot and bothered.

In the evening, to make up for leaving her alone all day, a very tanned Charles had invited her to a fancy restaurant in Havana, before taking her dancing. She had loved that night, so close together in the anonymity of the Cuban capital. She would have liked to prolong the festivities, to pick up where they had left off, but as soon as they'd returned to the room, Charles had laid down "for five minutes," and had been snoring ever since.

A faint knock echoes against the door of the room, and she gets up discreetly, careful not to wake Charles.

"You've got to be kidding me..." she starts, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Are you sleeping in front of our door or something?" she spits out, annoyed to find herself facing the Spaniard for the second time today.

"Charles forgot this," he says, handing her a towel. A towel with the hotel logo. What is she supposed to do with that? There are plenty of them in the closets. She stares at him intensely, arching a brow. Making no move to retrieve the towel.

"Can I come in?" he finally asks after a few seconds.

Without a word, she steps aside, revealing the room, and the bed where Charles is still snoring.

"Wow," Carlos says, walking into the room, laughing. "He's fucking knackered. I might have gone a bit hard on him this afternoon."

"What did you do?" she asks, clearly unamused.

"Nothing special. Made him run a bit." he replies, smirking. "I'm so sorry if you'd planned to finish what you'd started earlier," eyes boring into hers.

"You're a little shit," she says, disappearing into the bathroom.

She thought he would take the hint. Understand that his presence was no longer desired. In the bathroom, she takes off her earrings in front of the mirror, the door to the bedroom wide open, when the Spaniard appears behind her.

"Are you happy with him?" he asks, leaning against the door frame.

"What kind of fucked up question is that?" she snaps, turning to face him.

"A simple one," Carlos says, eyeing her intensely.

"What are you even doing here?" she asks, turning once again to grab her hairbrush from the countertop. "Shouldn't you be fucking your girl or something?"

Her hate-filled sentence makes him pause for a moment, seeking her gaze in the mirror. Faced with his silence, she lifts her head, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

"I had other plans," he states.

"Well, go fuck someone else then," she says, vehemently brushing her hair. She doesn't realize what she's said until the driver presses his chest against her back, gently pinning her against the countertop. She lets go of the brush, holding the surface with both hands, trying to regain composure. His mouth slides along her neck, making her whole body shiver. He's still watching her in the mirror as he gently bites her earlobe with his teeth.

"You're the nastiest person I've ever met," she says, letting a moan escape her lips as the driver slides his hands under her top.

"I've been dreaming of this for years," he says, running his fingers up along her stomach. "Morals be damned."

In the mirror, she casts a glance at Charles, still asleep on the bed. She can't do this. She's not like that. She's never cheated on any of her partners, let alone him. He doesn't deserve that, she thinks, closing her eyes as Carlos licks her neck.

"We can't do this to Charles," she says, panting. "To Rebecca."

"Rebecca will be gone by dawn if you ask," Carlos replies, gripping her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"What about him?" she breathes, eyes sliding down his lips. "I can't do it, Carlos. I love him."

"Do you?" he asks, still holding her chin. "Say it one more time, and I swear I won't kiss you. I'll go back to my room and pretend nothing ever happened. We can even share breakfast in the morning, all four of us."

"I..." she stutters, closing her eyes.

"I'm about to do something incredibly reckless. I just need you to tell me if you're okay with it."

She doesn't reply. She just looks into his eyes, and crosses the distance between them. Their mouths collide violently, and both moan in unison, desperately clinging to each other. Her hands get lost in his hair, running along his scalp before pulling at the roots, eliciting a growl from him. He kisses her, biting her lips, encircling her face with his hands. His hands. His hands are everywhere. In her hair, on her back, on her butt. She feels like he's touching her everywhere at once, and his touch... His touch is burning, awakening things she's never felt. With anyone. She feels like molten lava. Like electricity.

He doesn't waste a second. He's too scared she'll snap out of it, change her mind. In one swift motion of the arm, he picks her up, sitting her down on the countertop, spreading her legs with his own body. His lips never leave her : he's exploring her neck, her mouth, her cheeks, her forehead, anything to get a taste of her.

He's afraid that he'll only have her that one time. That he'll have to live forever in the memory of that night. So he memorizes everything. The beauty mark at the corner of her mouth. The one on her neck. The fine white scar above her eyebrow. The tiny wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, the ones she earned through years of hearty laughter. He sniffs her, almost like an animal, absorbing her perfume until his head spins. He's so desperate, so pathetic for her, and he would probably be embarrassed by his own behavior if she weren't doing the same on her side. Her fingers trace every vein in his arms, every muscle in his back. She runs her tongue over his teeth, bites his lips, tugs at his hair as if she wanted to keep a lock of it in a necklace.

So far, they had just been kissing. Something she would have a very hard time justifying to Charles, but which could be ruled as a... distasteful accident. But as Carlos grabs her top, making her raise her arms in the air to take it off, immediately going for her breasts, she knows it's too late. That there will be no turning back. She's panting now, and over the shoulder of the Spaniard, as his mouth finds one of her nipples, she steals a glance at her boyfriend. Sound asleep. Unaware.

Carlos continues his descent, lower and lower, tracing a path with his tongue from her breasts to her belly button and down to her lower abdomen. Urgently, almost savagely, he tears off her floral skirt and her thong with both hands in one harsh movement, throwing them on the floor. He's been so impatient, so hurried all this time that when he finally kneels before her, her entire body tenses, bracing for impact.

But the impact doesn't happen.

Not yet. Carlos softly plants kisses on her pubic mound. On the insides of her thighs. On her knees. Anywhere but where she needs him the most.

"Please," she begs, breathless. "Please don't make me wait."

"I've been waiting for four years," he replies, looking at her through his long lashes, amber eyes diving into hers, "You'll survive a few more seconds."

When his mouth finally meets her core, she tilts her head back, moaning. He's slow. So deliberately slow. For years, she's driven him crazy, obsessing over every thought of hers. His revenge is childish. Immature. He's not proud of it, but he wants to drive her insane. To see her lose her mind because of him, just for once. She's having none of it, bucking her hips until his nose gets lost in her folds and finally, he snaps. Grabbing her by the ass, he brings her impossibly closer, lapping, nibbling, biting, even. Her back is pressed against the mirror, one leg over his shoulder, the other hanging down. She's closing her eyes, covering her mouth. Her moans. Praying that Charles hears nothing. Sees nothing.

With the tips of her toes, she finds his groin. Her touch is so soft. Barely there. His response is immediate, and she feels his growl reverberate through her entire core. Continuing his assault, his fingers join his mouth as he circles her clit before inserting one inside of her. Then two. He's watching her, somehow getting harder every time she moans, every time she tugs at his hair.

"I need you," she says between two breaths. "I don't know how much time we have, and I... I need to feel you inside."

He could have passed out right here, just hearing those words leave her lips. He rises, capturing her lips again, while she takes hold of his t-shirt, stripping it off. And then, they hug. Their skins are burning with desire, but there's nothing sexual here. For a few seconds, they stay like that, absolutely silent. Clinging to each other. The embrace tears them both apart. It's almost violent, suffocating, the way all those what's ifs, we could haves and others if only we'd knowns fill the room in those few seconds. The hug is heavy with things that'll never be. Things that'll never leave this embrace. This room. Feeling something wet reach his shoulder, Carlos pulls back. She's crying.

He seizes her lips again, yet this kiss feels so different from the previous ones. It's no longer a kiss of lust, of desire. It's a farewell kiss. He knows it. She knows it too.

Her hands crawl along his chest until they reach the button of his pants, which she pops open with a flick of expert fingers. He helps her remove the garment, which also falls to the ground, along with all the others. In this room, in this Cuban hotel, they are finally completely naked, pressed against each other. He kisses her again, intoxicated by her, her scent, her taste, while his hand finds his cock, stroking it gently. He's so lost in her, he almost doesn't notice her own hand chasing his, stroking him softly. And then, in a new kiss, he presses against her before entering her.

For a few moments, neither of them moves. He, concentrating like never before to not finish there and now. She, accepting the idea that another man than Charles has taken her, and that nothing will ever be the same again. Charles, she thinks, glancing towards the bedroom where her boyfriend has turned over, still asleep, but facing them. He's so close. So close to opening an eye and seeing his girlfriend and his teammate pressed against each other, forehead to forehead. Skin to skin. She's still looking at Charles when Carlos begins to move inside her, holding her tightly in his arms, pressing their chests together in an incredibly sensual motion.

"Tell me what you like. Tell me anything and I'll do it," he says, thrusting softly into her. "I want you to remember this. To remember me."

"I want you to make love to me as if I were yours."

It stings. It stings so fucking much, because the phrase reminds him that she doesn't belong to him. It stings because she's not entirely Charles' anymore, yet she'll never be entirely his either. From this night on, she'll be condemned to wander between them, to float between their desires, their loves. No matter how tightly he holds onto her, no matter how tight she feels around him, he'll never call her his. He obeys nevertheless, quickening his pace, capturing her lips.

His movements are precise, surgical. He feels her contracting around him, and the sensation drives him wild. Her hands are around his neck, seeking balance, support. His pace intensifies even more when he realizes something.

"Say my name," he asks, panting.

She knows why he asks for it, why he needs to hear it, so she doesn't question him.

"Carlos," she says, kissing him. "You're making me feel so good."

And it's true. In a way, it has nothing to do with his movements, with his skills as a lover. All those that he very surely possesses, but are only secondary tonight. It goes beyond that. It's about their connection. With each thrust, Carlos floods her with love, adoration, longing, with so many sensations that leave her feeling deliciously overwhelmed. He doesn't need to say it. Yet, in one thrust, one harsher than the others, he does.

"I love you", he breathes against her skin.

"I know," she says, holding his jaw with one hand, making him look at her, their lips brushing. "I've loved you all this time," she whispers back.

Her revelation must unlock something within him because suddenly, he lifts her, pressing her against the bathroom wall opposite from the sink, as she lets out a surprised cry, feeling him deeper than before. His thrusts resume, stronger, more aggressive. It's a good thing he's holding her as if his life depended on it, because everything is too much : the sensation of his body against hers, their feelings laid bare, the sounds he makes... Her head suddenly feels light, and she rests it in the crook of his neck as he continues to take her so deliciously.

She comes back to herself when she feels something stir in the pit of her stomach, something that takes her breath away.

"Carlos..." she starts.

"Tell me, baby," he replies, biting her ear. "Tell me everything."

"I'm feeling... I don't know... I'm feeling so, so good" she says, incoherent.

"Are you close?" he asks, still pouding into her.

"I've never felt anything like this," she says, panting. "Anything like you."

Then, everything explodes.

She can't hold back her scream, not caring about anything anymore, not even Charles, a few feet away. She's clinging to her lover, scratching his back. Trying to catch her breath. She clenches around him so tightly that he loses control, spilling into her in three thrusts, grunting.

"Give it to me, Carlos," she says. "I can take it. I can take you."

"Mi amor," he says, out of breath. "You're killing me," he adds, still thrusting into her, shooting some more ropes of cum into her cunt while groaning. "Te amo, te amo, te amo," he says, kissing her face.

The two bodies collapse on the floor, against the wall, nestled together in the intimacy of the small bathroom. She shivers, and he grabs a towel to wrap around her. Neither of them says a word. What is there to say, after all? Here, between these four tiled walls, they've already said everything. Shown everything. They've never been closer to each other. They've never been closer to anyone else. They'll probably never experience something like that ever again.

A few steps away from them, a sound of crumpled bedding alerts both of them.

"Babe?" comes Charles' sleepy voice, as their blood turn cold and she rises up impossibly fast to close the bathroom door, wobbling a bit, legs still weak after her orgasm.

"Go back to sleep, baby", she says loudly. "I'm just taking a shower."

There's no response, so after a few seconds, she opens the door again, seeing that Charles has fallen back asleep. Mouth slightly open.

"You have to go," she states, turning back to face Carlos, still sitting on the floor. Carlos stands up, and both of them dress in a heavy silence before quietly tip-toeing across the room. Once in the empty hallway, she gently closes the door of the room she shares with her boyfriend before letting out a breath. He knows what's coming. Something breaks in his eyes, and she feels her heart shatter.

"I meant everything," she says, head low. "I meant every word, every kiss. I'll forever regret the night we just shared, but not in the way you might think. I will regret for the rest of my life ever experimenting this happiness with you and having to let go of it. I love you, Carlos, like I've never loved anyone. That's why we shouldn't see each other again."

His dark eyes bore into hers, almost threateningly.

"Why?" he asks, raising his voice, and she winces, terrified that, on the other side of the door, Charles might wake up again. "Why stop yourself from being happy? Why give up on me?"

"I found a ring," she confesses, struggling to meet his gaze. "In his suitcase. He's going to propose to me, Carlos."

"If that's what it takes to have you forever, let me do it before him," he says, dropping to one knee as she looks away, tears welling up in her eyes. One more thing he'll have taken from Charles, she thinks. He'll forever be the first man to ever kneel before me. And he'll never even know this.

"Please, get up," she says, her voice trembling with a sob.

He does, and when he looks at her again, his eyes are filled with tears.

"Good night, Carlos," she says, taking a step back, holding the door knob to her room. She's gone in an instant, leaving him alone in the poorly lit hallway at half past three in the morning. Her scent all over his skin, her words all over his mind, her grip all over his heart.

#I'm not okay lol #might fuck around and write a part two with a pregnant reader #f1 #f1 2024 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #formula 1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x you #lilasamaaa #smut

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beillus · 6 months ago

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IT IS DONE!!!

My first comic full comic (that isn't a shit post lol)!! I'm excited! This was initially inspired by "My Oh My by Camila Cabello" and it has spurred an entire modern AU in my mind where Zoro is the last person that Luffy met - "Best For Last"

That was initially going to be a stand-alone comic, but since an entire universe is forming, I have at least five more floating around in my head, also inspired by other songs.

If you would like to help me keep creating full-time, please consider supporting me on Patreon!! Subscribers get rewards (digital downloads, prints, stickers, etc.), early access, NSFW content, and help me decide what to do next!

As a bonus (& b/c I like giving gifts), 1 OOMF gets a free print each month! Follow me on Twitter/X, I'm more active there!

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rrxnjun · 2 years ago

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TAKE THE STAIRS ✲ n. jaemin

pairing. na jaemin x fem! reader starring. na jaemin, ning yizhuo genre. college au, strangers to lovers. fluff, comedy, suggestive. warnings. alcohol consumption, throwing up, swearing word count. 18k (18.666) a/n. thank you all so much for 1k followers! consider this fic a small gift of celebration

playlist. candy - baekhyun ; honey - l'arc en ciel ; take the stairs - coin ; cutie - coin ; rose-colored boy - paramore ; don't go yet - camila cabello ; hot crush lover - blu detiger ; teenage dream - 5sos (cover)

after having an unexpected guest witness the neverending quarrels with your roommate, na jaemin starts to practically live at your place— or— where yizhuo's flegmatic project partner starts to put a suspicious amout of effort into their assignment.

✲ PART 2 OF THE SIMPLIFY ROMANCE SERIES ✲

Hot droplets of water wash over you like raindrops during a heavy storm, the mirror fogging up at the hot temperature you always choose to shower your body in, fingers trailing through your hair making you finally relax after a long day at college. You spent the day presenting your project and having a test from Physics, so you only deserve a good shower. You would even consider taking a bath, but your small apartment doesn’t have a bathroom big enough to contain a bathtub, so a good, scorching hot shower will have to suffice.

Now, you are a hard worker– however, you also like to wait until the last reasonable time to start working on your project. And while you’re best friends with procrastination, stress also decided to visit you for the time being; since, again, there was not much time for you to finish your project, and so in the whole process of working on it and doing extensive research about a topic you weren’t really that interested in in the first place, you forgot to take care of yourself. You wouldn’t even notice at first– not until one day when Yizhuo glared at you with questions in her eyes from the couch, seeing you go to the convenience store at 10pm with your home slippers still on because of your distracted mind– but when you looked at yourself in the mirror after arriving from school today, the image of your sweaty face and hair so oily you could probably fry a schnitzel on the extraction of the liquid from your follicles, you must admit that you’ve been neglecting your appearance for quite some time now, and so a well deserved annual everything-shower is the only thing on your mind right now.

Reaching over to the side of the shower that has various shelves installed, taking your hair conditioner into your palms and opening up the bottle, you get ready for the familiar smell of citrus that always hits your nose and makes you smile in satisfaction; yet, no matter how hard you try, the pleasant scent doesn’t come– and neither does the actual conditioner.

Huffing, even slapping the bottom of the bottle a few times, squeezing the tube as hard as you can�� you tried everything, but to no use. Thinking back to the last few weeks, you try to remember when you bought the conditioner– because you swear it hasn’t been that long. There’s no way you already ran out, you think, as your eyes scan over the various bottles of other products in your shower, opting to use something your roommate has in stash– when you notice that there is no other hair conditioner in the shower, which makes the gears in your brain click in realization.

Sighing, you finish showering as you prepare your mental tangent in your brain. Drying off your body and slipping into your underwear, you put on the largest T-shirt you more often than not sleep in, not even bothering to put your hair up as you roughly scrunch it with your towel to get most of the water out, opting to leave the strands lay on your shoulders instead, in their full wet, naked mole rat glory.

Swinging the door to the bathroom open, you yell out the first sentence that comes to your mind– despite planning your outburst in your head beforehand.

“Ning Yizhuo! You used up all of my fucking hair conditioner again!” you scream into the apartment, knowing damn well that the walls are thin and she can hear you. “You promised you won’t use it after the last time! That shit is fucking expensive, y’know,” you mutter, voice still raised so your roommate can hear you.

“I’ll buy you a new one, chill out,” Yizhuo finally replies, her voice coming out of your living room. Your head snaps that way, feet dangling closer into the doorway.

“Yeah, well, maybe consider buying your own conditioner so you don’t have to replace mine every other week,” you spit, rolling your eyes in annoyance, “or at least buy a new one when it runs out, so I can actually use– oh.”

Stopping mid-sentence, your sudden outburst of anger is cut short as you notice another presence in the living room. There’s a man sitting on your sofa, his head turned towards you, flashing you an amused grin, and when his eyes scan you from head to toe, you’re suddenly painfully aware of your current state– only in your panties, with your hair wet, appearing as a chicken left outside in the rain, the wetness of your locks most likely dampening the thin fabric of your shirt to the point that it’s basically see through, revealing more to the stranger than you’d like. Crossing your arms at your chest, alert, you feel heat rising to your cheeks as your eyes jump from your roommate to the stranger in your living room, textbooks and an opened laptop scattered across the coffee table, making you believe it must be your roommate’s classmate of some sort.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” she sighs and rolls her eyes, looking at you with amusement when she notices your distressed state, “this is Jaemin, by the way. We’re doing a project together.”

Humming, you look at the man again, taking a notice of his casual, yet attractive demeanor. Black bangs falling into his eyes and Adidas joggers hugging his legs, you press your lips into a thin line– somewhat resembling an embarrassed smile, before you slowly walk out of the room for the sake of their privacy and also your dignity. “Nice to meet you,” you mumble on your way out, “I’m Y/N.”

And before you’re out of the door, you turn your head towards your roommate again, biting back an ironic smile. “How nice of you to notify me that we’ll have guests over!”

With that, you’re out.

You guess that embarrassing yourself in front of Na Jaemin is how life is going to go now. Don’t get me wrong– the next time it happened, you were notified of his visit; after screaming at Yizhuo about how she handled it the last time around– and you even put some effort into your appearance, as if to balance the absolute atrocity he had to deal with the first time he laid his eyes on you. Not that you really care about his opinion, or that you want him to think you’re at least a little bit attractive, of course. You’d say this is just the basic human need to look presentable in front of people you don’t even know that well.

While you were notified about the fact that he would come over in the afternoon to work on the project, you still didn’t have it in you to just casually walk over to the living room and hang out with them, though. On top of that, they were doing a project in Neurophysiology together– and no matter how much laughter and noise you heard from the living room, where the two crashed for the time being, you still didn’t think it was okay for you to intrude to say hi to the man, or find enough courage to just hang out in the room with them, enjoying their talks and quarrel. It wasn’t the same as when you were doing a project with Minjeong from your Biology class or when Yizhuo had a few assignments to do with your mutual friend Jimin, the three of you working on your own stuff in your spacious living room, while also talking gossip and laughing about the latest fashion trends on Tiktok together.

But sitting in your room on a Wednesday evening, completely alone; because your roommate was busy working on a project and none of your other friends– not even the online ones– were there to entertain you with their talks, you had nothing to do. The only thing you could come up with while trying to entertain yourself was to watch the latest season of The Great British Bake Off, your legs swiftly moving you towards your table, where your laptop lay untouched, opening it and turning on the show.

Everyone knows that feeling of desiring something they see on the screen of the show they’re currently watching, right? The feeling only intensifies when it comes to food– delicious food, on top of that– and suddenly, you’re no stranger to the cravings in your stomach as you watch the contestants cut slices of cakes and taste the sweet, tasty pastries and doughs. Maybe you could look around your room and find something to eat to satisfy those needs, but something is telling you that the secret stash of M&M’s you had hidden in your room, away from the eyes of Ning Yizhuo– the resident M&M lover– was now long empty, the image of the packaging thrown in the trash can now vivid in your brain.

But the more you keep watching, the more you crave something sweet, and you know that if you don’t stand up from your place at the table and walk over to the snack cupboard in the kitchen, you’ll go insane. And with this knowledge, you take a deep breath in and out, trying to find some courage in you to show your face to your roommate and her new friend; your hand is soon on the door click and you almost watch yourself from the third perspective as your socked feet stumble out of the safety of your own room, bringing you towards the living room where the two of them have been sitting, intending to pass by them and silently take some sweets from the kitchen.

“Hi Y/N!” the man greets you, almost making you jump up and bump into the TV on the right side of the living room. Na Jaemin has a contagious smile on his face, and while you vividly remember greeting him when he arrived, just seconds before closing the door to your room, you still greet him again, trying hard to maintain the same amount of enthusiasm as him.

The conversation doesn’t progress much from that, the two of them too busy reading some article on Yizhuo’s laptop that’s currently sitting on one of each of their thighs, rimmed glasses adoring your roommate’s face, and you allow yourself to complete your mission as you walk over to the kitchen that connects to the room.

Reaching over to the kitchen cabinet that is designated to hold all sorts of various snacks both you and your roommate love to eat and share on movie nights, you search over the stash and try to find something that fits your cravings perfectly. Eyes scanning over Skittles, some chocolate bars and even a bag of chips, you decide to take all of them– because you never know, sometimes you have the strange desire to chase down the sweetness with some salt– and also look over the room for a drink you could take with you, since you’ve gotten a bit thirsty over the course of the last few hours you spent camping in your room.

Holding all of the items in your arms, looking as if you’ve just done a grocery run and forgot to take a bag with you, you almost don’t see the floor below your feet as you walk– no, scratch that– you literally do not see the ground below your feet at all.

We mentioned you embarrassing yourself in front of Na Jaemin again at the very beginning of this scene. You may be wondering where that part comes to play– and let me tell you, the moment is now, and it has correlation with the sheer fact that you can’t see where you’re walking and you’re also rushing to get back to your room quickly, hide yourself away from their eyes and finish the episode of bake-off while munching on the party mix of snacks you’re planning on creating.

In your true fashion, considering all the variables of the situation you found yourself in right now, the ground is suddenly swept from beneath your feet as you trip over the door sill that separates the kitchen from the living room, your body falling to the ground with all the snacks in your hands and the bottle of Diet coke secured under your shoulder.

Desperate to keep the snacks intact, you don’t even drop the bag of chips to the floor before you fall to make some room in your palms to try to soften the fall. No, you fall down like a rag doll, face first to the laminated floor, the sound of your body hitting the ground resonating through both your brain and the whole apartment. A few seconds later, the sound of a bottle rolling across the length of the living room fills your ears and you feel a sharp pain in your side, the humiliation and growing stinginess in your knees fully hitting now, when the shock is gone.

A few seconds pass, with your body lying limp on the ground– not even from the pain, just from the sheer embarrassment of the thought of facing Na Jaemin again after this– and a sound of your roommate trying to bite back her laughter fills your ears when you finally wake up and wiggle a little on the floor, trying to get up. At least the bag of chips stayed intact, you think– all of the effort was worth it in the end… or at least you hope.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” the now familiar voice of Na Jaemin fills your ears, and while he does sound a little concerned, laughter fills his voice when the touch of his hand lands on your elbow, trying to help you stand up from your fatal position.

“I’m perfectly fine, yeah,” you nod as you suppress back a scowl, the amused look that meets your eyes once you turn your head to face your visitor that took it upon himself to help you up making you feel all sorts of emotions– humiliation, however, is winning by a mile.

“Are you hurt?” he giggles out, and the question almost sounds mocking with how his face breaks out into a pained scowl, seemingly trying to hide the clear grin wanting to settle on his handsome face.

“No,” you shake your head vigorously, tears rimming your eyes from the mix of embarrassment and the sharp stinginess in your knees– you’re sure there’s gonna be a big, purple bruise forming on your legs by tomorrow morning. “I’m okay.”

In that very moment, Yizhuo finally breaks out into laughter– as if she was really waiting for you to stand up, in case you fell dead and she would then have to feel guilty for laughing at your falling corpse– and the absurdity of it all makes you join them, the caring man no longer trying to bite back his amusement either as he softly brushes his hand over your arm before he leans down and picks up the bottle of coke that rolled all the way to the corner of the room and the pack of Skittles that managed to fall from your strong grasp.

“Here you go,” he says, shaking his head at you when he sees you still holding the bag of chips to your chest. “Damn, you guarded those chips with your whole life, didn’t you?”

Nodding, you snicker. “I put my whole life on the line for these.”

Accompanied by their amused giggles, alongside with Yizhuo’s pained sigh as she wipes her cheeks from the stray tears you caused with your comedic fall, you take the snacks Jaemin’s offering you, thanking him for the help as you escape the room with a final bow to end your performance.

“I was glad to be your fun little commercial break, but I’ll get going now,” you say, “good luck with the project!”

And with that, you disappear back into your room, setting your mind to never ever show your face in front of Na Jaemin again.

While you thought your resolution of never ever wanting to see Na Jaemin again out of the embarrassment your first and second encounter cost you, it seems to be that it’s easier said than done when you end up in Liu Yangyang’s basement, the whole place smelling of weed and cheap alcohol, standing right opposite of the man that haunts you in your darkest nightmares only a few days after the initial meeting.

There is a reflex in you that makes you want to turn on your heel and hide, maybe even bury yourself alive as you recognise the raven-haired boy, his bright grin making your stomach twist uncontrollably as he comes up to you and Yizhuo, a red single cup in his hand and a leather jacket adorning his shoulders. Something inside of you is telling you to get ready for the worst possible outcome of this situation, and you don’t know why your fight or flight instinct is so alert today, but you presume that Na Jaemin just has that effect on people as your roommate hides behind you and tries to get out of her project partner’s sight.

“Hello, ladies!” the man greets you as soon as he reaches you two– with Yizhuo still tugging herself behind your figure. “Didn’t expect to see you two here!”

Smiling, although a little tight-lipped, you turn around to finally reveal your roommate– the only reason why you’re in this disgustingly-smelling basement in the first place. It’s not like you don’t have friends– you do, it’s just that most of them aren’t actually your friends. They are Yizhuo’s friends, who just happen to be your friends, because your roommate decided that because you two are best friends, she needs to drag you everywhere with her– her love language, it seems– and that’s how you always end up in the same social circles.

Her dragging you around to places also applies to her weird first meetings with guys. And while you agree with the fact that she needs to be careful around new people– men, especially– so she doesn’t get stolen for human trafficking, you’ve been to enough cringey first dates with her to know that you should start saying no to her more often. Maybe tonight was the day you should’ve started, you think– as she asked you if you wanted to go to a party with her, since Jung Sungchan invited her– and while you could argue that a party in Liu Yangyang’s basement isn’t the best place for a first date, or that there’s no use in you being there in the first place, since other people are present, you agreed; because frankly speaking, everything’s better than sitting home alone and watching Netflix. Besides, you promised Yizhuo you wouldn’t watch the new episodes of Blue lock without her, and if you were left unsupervised, you know you’d break that plea– so here you are. Even though at this very moment, you deeply wish you weren’t.

“Yeah, me neither,” you mumble as your roommate, seemingly embarrassed to be caught hanging out with Na Jaemin’s acquaintance, slowly comes up from behind you, scratching the back of her neck in embarrassment. “Yizhuo here has a date with someone, so I was forced to third-wheel,” you muse, earning yourself a slap to your shoulder from the subject of the sentence.

Jaemin’s eyes widen to twice of their original size– a shock very evident in his features– and you wish you didn’t see him so taken aback at the fact that your insanely beautiful roommate was getting invited to dates left and right, because something about it makes your stomach acid boil in a weird way. “A date with who?”

“Whom,” you mumble, nit-picky at the correct grammar.

“Huh?”

“With whom,” you repeat yourself, seeing as Jaemin shakes his head in disbelief and chuckles.

“Okay, literature major,” he rolls his eyes and averts his attention back to your roommate, the comment making you furrow your brows for two things– one, correct grammar has nothing to do with literature and two, how the fuck does he even know your major in the first place, “you have a date with whom? Because I hope it’s not Beomgyu. He lies about his age.”

Hearing a sigh escape your roommate’s lips, you watch the interaction with uttermost interest. “No,” she mumbles, “it’s Sungchan, actually.”

“You’re having a date… at a frat party?”

You chuckle at the comment. At least someone has common sense here.

“Unfortunately, yeah,” Yizhuo notes, seeing as Jaemin empathetically nods at her and smoothes a hand down her back before he nudges her in the direction of the tall boy. Watching her leave, you mentally pray for her to come back and never leave you alone at a party where Na Jaemin is present– because quite frankly, you are very much okay with looking awkward in front of anyone else; be it strangers or the acquaintances slash distant friends you’ve made along the way on these gatherings– but when it’s Na Jaemin, the idea of him seeing you aimlessly walk around and try to invite yourself to conversations with people you distantly know makes you want to crawl out of your own skin and set it on fire.

Sighing purposelessly, looking around to see if you recognise anyone that you could find a safe harbor in at least for a couple of hours before you look for Yizhuo again and drag her home, you notice the boy not leaving your side. Locking your eyes with him, you hear him clear his throat before speaking up again.

“It’s actually so good to see you here, because we were about to play beer pong and you’re just the person I need for my team,” he says, offering you his signature grin.

Finding the last bits of your sanity, you shake your head. “Oh, you don’t want to play beer pong with me.”

“Why?”

“I’m no good,” you admit, scratching the back of your neck, “I’m like, the least athletic person in this room. And I also can’t handle my liquor well.”

Jaemin only rolls his eyes in annoyance at your comments, gently shoving you towards the direction of a large ping-pong table in one of the corners of the spacious basement. The game is already prepared, a pair consisting of a tall, ripped man with an adorable eye-smile and a person that gets introduced to you as his best friend waiting for someone to join them.

“Come on, I bet you can outdrink me,” Jaemin jokes, basically forcing you to the game as he hosts a ping-pong ball into your hold, looking at you with expecting eyes.

This evening is the moment where you learn that Na Jaemin is a man of many talents; the first one you find is his irresistible puppy look that makes you comply with everything he says. You don’t know how people have it in them to say no to him, but when he’s ushering you to take the first shoot towards the cups on the other side of the table, you only nod and sigh in the image of what’s gonna be your hangover in the morning.

Leaning back a little, feeling like a true Lebron James about to take his winning score, you aim for the plastic cups and throw the little white ball into space. You haven’t even taken a drink yet, but the ball goes where it wants and not where you want it to go, the small object hitting the floor instead, making your companion shake his head at you and click his tongue.

“I told you I’m bad,” you defend yourself, throwing your hands into the air in a defensive position.

“All good with me,” Jaemin grins, “I’m like, the least competitive person in this room. So as long as neither of us end up throwing up in Liu Yangyang’s backyard, I’m okay with losing this game.”

Rolling your eyes at his nature, refusing to relax even after his roommate Jeno– the boy on the other side of the table– scores and hits two cups in a row, each one of you drinking one, the bitter taste of beer falling down your throat, you find the second of Na Jaemin’s many talents. It’s playing beer pong– and even though he almost never misses, your opponent’s side is much quicker with their game and you end up drinking most of the cups in an apology for being so shitty at the game.

“Come on! You can do it,” you hear Jaemin cheer for you from beside you, your glossy eyes scanning over his figure. You’ve drunk quite a lot now, your distance-assuming abilities thrown out of the window as you reach back to throw the last shoot, body getting out of balance and threatening to meet the ground in the laws of gravity.

Jaemin’s hands quickly shoot up to steady you, a hesitant hand reaching to your waist as he giggles in your ear, and suddenly, you wonder if it’s been this hot in the room the whole time, when your hand lets go and the ball falls carelessly to the middle of the table.

And when you take at least two shots with Jaemin and his roommate, the game long forgotten as you two lost, you find yourself in Liu Yangyang’s backyard, Na Jaemin’s talent of being an absolute gentleman shining through as he holds your hair back for you when you throw up into the bushes.

“Okay, so… you can’t outdrink me. Noted,” the man hums, a gentle pat to your back sending shivers down your spine.

And with that, you swear you’re never going to show your face in front of Na Jaemin ever again. For the third time, yes.

At least the third time’s the charm…?

The sun greets you in the morning with an aggressive shine to your eyes, reminding you of the actions of yesterday evening slash very late night. There’s only one reason why your blinds aren’t shut in the morning, since you hate waking up to the hot beams of sunlight in your eyes– they always make you sweat and don’t let you continue in your quiet somber– and the reason is that you must’ve been too drunk yesterday to remember to close them.

And sure enough, once you open your eyes with a grunt and tumble in your sheets, the memories of yesterday evening flood into your brain the same way water did to your room when your ex-roommate Yeri forgot to turn off the water in the bathtub in your Freshman year. You decided to not live with the girl since, and you also quite loved the idea of not having a bathtub in your new place with Yizhuo; at least it meant that the chance of your roommate forgetting to turn the faucet off and flooding the apartment was significantly lower– you could say this experience gave you some sort of PTSD.

When the sunlight gets too hot on your back that you can’t handle it anymore, you open the window to let some fresh air in and stumble into the kitchen, ready to drink a glass of water and forget about the last night’s party. You don’t usually drink that much– because god knows you don’t need a lot to get tipsy– but getting caught up in a drinking game was definitely your first, and while you found it quite fun at first, you would’ve never allowed yourself to play if it wasn’t for Na Jaemin, your roommate’s project partner, dragging you into this mess.

At least Yizhuo is a good drinker, for the most part. She gets drunk, but stays responsible. You don’t know how you’d get home safe if it wasn’t for the responsible girl by your side.

The sight that meets your eye in the kitchen is one you would not want to see after a night out. The sink is full of dirty dishes– because your small apartment doesn’t have a dishwasher– and when you open the cupboard for an empty glass to fill with water, you find it empty, all of them used and unwashed in the silver basin.

Heaving out a sigh, you shake your head in disappointment and get mentally prepared to do the dishes. Reminded by the fact that it was you who cooked dinner last night before heading out to the party, it was Yizhuo’s turn to wash up– you two agreed on this arrangement to make sure everyone puts a hand in when it comes to household chores. If one of you is cooking a shared meal, the other one cleans up. It was a good deal, you got used to it fairly quickly, but still, your roommate has her flaws, and sticking to the rules you two made up together is surely one of them.

“Yizhuo! It was your turn to wash the dishes last night!” you yell out, not really caring that she’s most likely still asleep, as you turn on the faucet and get to work. While it was your roommate’s turn to clean up, you’re also not willing to wait for her until she gets up from bed and decides it’s a good time to complete the task, because truth be told, you really need some coffee right now and you only have two mugs in the whole apartment– both of them sitting at the bottom of the sink, dirty with last night’s tea.

“I know we were in a rush to get to the party, but for god’s sake, if you had the audacity to be all up in my ear about how I’m taking too long to get ready, you could’ve used up that time to wash the fucking dishes, man!” you continue your small tangent, your slight anger issues getting the best out of you as you scrub the oily pan. “Now the food’s stuck on the plates and it won’t come off! I’ll quit cooking for you if you don’t clean up, I swear to god!”

Sighing a little, you turn the water on and finally get to washing off the dish soap, shaking your head a little in both disbelief and unpleasant emotions filling your insides. This is not how you imagined your day to go, and soon enough, your stomach is growling with the need of food– you two have slept in until lunchtime– and you still don’t have either the energy to cook something again, or the appliances to do so. Hearing footsteps fill the small room, not bothering to even look at the source of them, you decide to continue your little rant with the premise of your roommate finally listening to it now that she’s present in the room.

“Fancy seeing you here, dear Yizhuo,” you mutter under your nose, irony filling your voice, “good to finally see you in the kitchen, now that I’m done with the dishes,” you grunt, turning the water off and wiping your hands on the kitchen towel that’s been hanging off the counter.

“Man, living with you must really suck, Ning,” you hear a male voice joke, the familiarity of it making you jump in your place as you look at the source of it, a little bit panicked.

His face looks fresh and lively– not a sign of last night’s drinking in his features– and his hands are full with two bags of takeout that he swiftly sits on the table, his figure now awkwardly standing in the corner of the room. Yizhuo is leaning on one of the chairs, eyes a little empty and tired, as if she has just woken up from deep sleep, her hair a mess on the top of her head and her pajamas still on. God knows neither of you look ready for a visitor– a male one, on top of that– and yet, there is still one standing in your kitchen right now, voice sing-songy and body dressed in athleisure, as if he’s just came out of his morning gym session.

Which he probably has. He seems like the type.

“What are you doing here?” Yizhuo beats you to the question, your eyes jumping from her figure to your morning– well, lunch time– visitor.

“What do you mean, what am I doing here? We’re working on our project today, Yizhuo, that’s what I’m doing here,” the man complains with an offended pout, almost a scolding tone to his voice that makes you look at your roommate with shock in her eyes. She knew she’d be hungover today and still chose to work on the project? Is she truly out of her mind?

“I swear we didn’t have it scheduled for today, Jaemin-” she sighs as she straightens her back and looks at the male with irritation and a hint of exhaustion before he jumps in and shakes his head in disapproval.

“We did, I swear to god! You just forgot,” he shakes his head, satisfied when the girl is left speechless in the kitchen, his eyes drifting to you before he smiles and moves closer to the kitchen table, opening up the boxes of takeout and offering you a proud nod. “I knew you two would be tired today, so I brought some chinese with me! We can have lunch and then get right to working!”

The enthusiasm spreading off his features is almost contagious– you swear it would be, if it wasn’t for the fact that your head was severely aching and you still haven't had a single sip of water since you’ve woken up. Jaemin scrambles through your kitchen, totally uninvited, but also unstopped, until he finds some chopsticks and cutlery in one of the drawers and then puts them all in the middle of the dining table, acting as if he was at his own house, and not in a place he’s been to three times, including this one.

“Well? What are you waiting for? It’s gonna get cold,” he chirps as he sits at the table and dives in one of the boxes, humming in satisfaction as the food hits his tongue.

Staring at the male, still not quite believing your eyes, but no longer feeling as humiliated in front of him when you realize that you embarrassing yourself in front of him is your habit by now, you only opt to a sigh as you sit at the table and taste the chinese, the noodles falling down your throat finally providing some comfort to your upset stomach. Jaemin smiles at you– the kind of smile where his eyes crinkle up into small moon crescents– with his full cheeks on display when you meet his eye, seemingly satisfied with his mission.

“Fucking hell,” you hear your roommate mutter as she escapes the room, seemingly to put some more presentable clothes on. Jaemin pays it no attention as he brightens up a little, pointing one of his chopsticks your way after he swallows and speaks up again.

“And hey! Thanks to me, you don’t even have to do the dishes now!” he exclaims, his proud face on full display making you stop in your tracks when you go to tell him that’s not true, since you still have to wash the reusable chopsticks you’re both holding in your hands, afraid of bursting his bubble as you only fakely smile at the male, nodding.

“That’s… great, Jaemin. Really nice.”

Walking across the school building, you find your stomach growling once again, the relief only spreading more on your insides when you realize that the last class of the day just ended and you are headed to the cafeteria to grab some lunch. Noting that it’s Tuesday and your schedules match with your best-friend-and-roommate-in-one’s today, you swiftly walk towards the crowded space and get the lunch with your school ID card, the cafeteria lady looking at you with a wobbly side-smile you only recognise to be her customer service demeanor washing off after the long day. Thanking her and scanning the room with your eyes, you quickly find your roommate waving at you from the corner of the room, calling you over with the motion of her hand. You’re actually excited to see her, until you notice another figure sitting right next to her– the figure being none other than the intruder of your home peace for the last few weeks.

You’re seeing Na Jaemin quite a lot lately, you realize, and it’s not even your project partner to begin with. Not that you mind, of course; he’s a nice guy, a good-looking one as well, to say the least, but there’s just something about his constant close proximity to your roommate that makes your stomach drop whenever you see him in her presence. This feeling has been there for a while now, and if you recognised it in you, you never paid it much attention, but with him sticking to her like glue even outside of the premises of your apartment, it almost makes you turn on your heel and walk out of the cafeteria to eat your lunch alone– daring to even say it’s the better choice, for you think you could throw up any second at the image of their enthusiastic smiles. You can’t really put your finger on the feeling– you’re not really sure how to name it, or what to think of it. You just know that the strange annoyance bubbling inside of you whenever it comes is one of the most frustrating things you’ve ever dealt with your whole, entire life.

But it’s too late to walk out of the cafeteria now, and so you choose to put up a smile and walk over to the two, sitting at the vacant spot opposite of them and get to eating.

“Hello,” Jaemin greets you, voice cheerful– does he ever feel down? –when you sit down with your tray and smile at the two.

“Hi,” you nod, “what’s up?”

“We were just talking about this thing on Friday,” he jumps in, looking at you from above his finished plate, Yizhuo nodding along to his conversation. She keeps chewing on her lunch as the man continues his speech. “My friend Taeyong’s in a band and they have a gig at the Neo bar, you know, the one in the center of the city…”

You find yourself humming in interest, nodding along to the new information. You don’t think you’ve heard about Taeyong or his band before, but you only imagine it could be fun. “Are you going?” you ask, eyes jumping from your roommate to your new acquaintance slash friend, anticipating his response.

“Yeah,” he nods, averting his gaze from you for a moment, looking to his feet for a second as he clears his throat, “you should come too,” he adds when his eyes meet yours again, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Halting a little in your movement, you look at your roommate again. See, Yizhuo is just the perfect girl you’d invite to see your friend’s band. She’s outgoing, loud, the life of the party, and also has an amazing alcohol tolerance– perfect to match the boy in front of you. There’s no reason for Na Jaemin to be inviting you as well, and you presume it’s the way his personality naturally is– considerate and warm– that it doesn’t let him just leave you out of the conversation and let you stay home. He’d probably feel too bad if he didn’t invite you, that’s all.

But the more you stare at the two, noticing the familiar way Jaemin’s body leans into your roommate’s for support, the two of them growing quite close in the process of working on the project– she even trailed into his apartment a few times to work there instead, because you had exams to study for and she wanted to leave the apartment silent for you to focus better– and the more you feel the familiar feeling deep within your chest, bugging you with thoughts resonating through your brain that tell you that you’ll just be a burden if you go and that the two of them will have much more fun together if they’re alone anyways, since Jaemin is clearly interested in your roommate. The voice in your head doesn’t leave, and you get so caught up in listening to it that you zone out, only to be woken up from your state of autopilot with a soft nudge to your shin under the table.

“So? What do you say?” he asks again, raising his eyebrows at you in question, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Oh,” you let out, hesitant as you poke your fork into the slice of meat on your plate, “I’m good, thanks. I wouldn’t wanna… you know… intrude? Or something?” you say, nodding to yourself as you’re afraid to meet his eye, opting to stare into your meal instead.

“What are you talking about? Of course you won’t intrude, I’m the one who invited you,” he mutters under his nose, tone of voice close to a mother’s scolding, insistent on his words. “Come on, it will be fun!”

“Really, I-” you open your mouth to decline again, when the male sulks in his seat and turns to your roommate for help.

“Yizhuo, help me, would you?” he grunts. “Tell your roommate this is the best idea you’ve ever heard, maybe she’ll listen to you, since she clearly doesn’t trust me.”

Snickering at his offended pout, you roll your eyes in mock annoyance when your best friend finally speaks up for the first time since you sat at the table, now finished with her lunch and free to talk to you both. “I think it would be nice, Y/N,” she says casually, nodding, “besides, I bet the band guys will be hot. Maybe Jaem can hook us up with one of them, what do you say?” she says, looking at him with a teasing glint in her eye, dismissed by the male with a scoff and a wave of his hand.

“You wouldn’t want that,” he mumbles, “not saying they’re not hot, but they’re insufferable. And a little bit stupid.”

“You say that about your friends?” you grin, seeing as the male shrugs to himself.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “hanging out with them makes me feel better about myself.”

Giggling at the remark, you finish your food and stare at him with dumbfoundance in your eyes. “You’re unbelievable, Na Jaemin.”

“Mhm, whatever,” he hums, grinning, before he looks at the screen of his phone and his face scrunches up in horror. His figure stands up in hurry, slinging his backpack over his shoulder before he looks at the both of you, eyes drifting from your roommate to you in a sharp 0.2 second interval, pointing a finger at your sitting body. “I take it as I’ll see you there. I have a class in literally 5-” he says as he looks at his phone again, “no, 4 minutes, so I better get going. I’ll text the address to Yizhuo in case you two can’t find it, and don’t even think of not showing up, okay?”

Sighing in fake annoyance, you shake your head in disbelief as the man strides off, black hair flowing in the breeze as his figure jogs out of the crowded cafeteria.

You’re starting to think that Na Jaemin is actually the insufferable one. But as he made it clear that he might get mad at you if you don’t go, even though it might make the annoying voice in your head only scream at you louder if you see him and your roommate sway in the cigarette smoke, dancing together in the local bar, you take a mental note to check your journal and see if you have any plans on Friday, and if you do, to quickly cancel them.

The mental image you had of the concert in your head was mostly right. When you arrive at the local bar at 9 in the evening, the whole place is filled with cigarette smoke and the loud noise of guitars is making your ears ring a little when you try to listen to the lyrics. It’s not really your cup of tea, but the lead singer looks nice– you heard some girls in the front screaming his name; Yuta, if you weren’t wrong– and you find yourself dancing along to the beat of songs you’ve never even heard before.

Everything’s just like you imagined– smiley, flushed faces in the crowd, sweaty bodies pressed against each other in the small space that the bar provides, everything just perfect to scare a person with claustrophobic tendencies. Everything except from the small voice in your head telling you that you’ll be the third wheel tonight was right, and you find yourself thanking whatever inner motives that lead you to agree with Na Jaemin’s invitation, because when the small break the band had ends and you down the beer he bought for you and Yizhuo, the male is, to your surprise, tugging you to the dance floor. This is not really second female lead of you, you think as you sway under the neon lights of the bar; and you can’t say you hate it.

“Please tell your roommate to not get on with the boy she’s currently dancing with when you two get home,” Jaemin mutters into your ear through the music, and suddenly, the illusion’s over. Of course his eyes would be on your breathtaking, wonderful roommate– there was no way you’d have his full attention while he dances with you, no matter how much effort you put into your appearance tonight. You don’t know what it is that makes you finally admit to yourself that you’re endlessly yearning for male attention and validation– especially Na Jaemin’s, the casual heartthrob’s– but you’re willing to say it’s the effect of alcohol as you furrow your brows at him and lean closer to his face to hear him better as you two talk over the loud set.

“Why?”

“He’s insanely stupid,” he says, snickering, “and I also think he’d love to move into your apartment the first chance he gets. I’m pretty sure his roommate kicked him out last month because he wasn’t paying rent.”

“Well, aren’t you at our apartment all the time as well?” you squint at him, seeing as the male rolls his eyes at you in mock annoyance, the teasing getting to him.

“That’s because I have to,” he insists, grinning under the blue light shading his features, the hue making him look like he was cut out of a teenage movie.

Shaking your head in disbelief at the gossip, you find yourself yelling over the music again. “How do you even know all of that?” you ask, desperate to know the source of all information there is about the men on your campus.

“His roommate told me himself,” Jaemin says, “I used to play soccer with him in high school.”

“You have too many contacts,” you mutter, seeing as the male shrugs at you, taking your hand in his as he twirls you in your place, the music blending into a slower rhythm, the melody more solemn and relaxed.

“What can I say,” he grins, “I’m irresistible. Everyone wants to be my friend.”

Not even having a chance to reply a snarky comment back to him, the male suddenly brings you closer to him, taking all air out of your lungs. His strong arms are now pressed around your middle, causing you to almost automatically sneak your arms around his neck– you truly don’t know what brought you to these actions, you think it’s you working on auto-pilot after doing competitive dancing for 5 years when you were little that makes you get into position almost immediately in fear of your instructor screaming at you– and the neon lights now start slowly flashing through various colors, reminding you of disco balls you have at middle school formals. The lead singer sings a romantic song, his raspy, yet unique voice cutting through the speakers right into your poor, fragile heart, and Jaemin steps with you into a loose dance, just two bodies swinging to the music, catching their breath after jumping around to the rhythmic beats for so long.

In a moment full of embarrassing self-indulgence, you look at the boy with long eyelashes staring down at you, and you wonder if he finds joy in your company. He is that type of guy you’d naturally gravitate towards– charming and nonchalant, extremely charismatic– but you, you are the exact opposite of those qualities. Socially awkward and embarrassing with your antics, thinking too much of words to say before you speak to someone, tense shoulders giving you in as you look nervous with every new person you meet. You’re not the type of person Na Jaemin would voluntarily want to hang out with– your roommate is the one he should be dancing with right now, swaying to the slow beat.

And maybe he would be, if that other guy wasn’t faster than him at earning her attention.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks, leaning in closer to your ear, because even though the song is slower, it’s still as loud as the previous ones. Shivers run down your spine when his breath fans your heated skin, and you find yourself nodding in response.

“It’s fun,” you mumble, seeing him grin.

“See? Told you,” he sighs, “and you didn’t want to go!”

“I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, that’s all,” you say, smiling at his warm eyes. The thing about Na Jaemin is that he looks at everyone with eyes reminding you of pools of warm honey– with such a welcoming gaze it makes your knees buckle from the sweetness. He looks at everyone with such care it makes them think they perhaps mean the whole entire world to him, and that’s why you can’t bring yourself to think something more of the situation when his eyes meet yours and your eye contact is a battle of symphony. Because he looks at everyone like that. He looks at Yizhuo like that, that’s for sure.

The man gently leads you into another turn, an amused giggle escaping his lips when you clumsily get back to his arms. You open your mouth to talk back to him, but before you manage to find words worthy of a good jab, the tempo of the song gets faster again and the drums once again ring loudly in your ears, the last tune of the set bringing an enthusiastic, energetic atmosphere into the small bar.

The rest of the evening comes by like a blur– you remember Jaemin ordering you a few more beers and introducing you to the band, the lead singer flashing you a grin you can’t quite decipher in your drunken haze. Your roommate hangs from the shoulder of the man Na Jaemin warned you about, and you find yourself despising the male even though you’ve never spoken to him– something inside of you trusts Jaemin’s judgment of men, it seems (he is one of them, after all. He knows what he’s talking about).

You almost get mad at yourself for letting yourself drink too much again. It’s like once you start, you don’t know when to stop, and after all, who are you to say no when you’re not even the one paying for all the shots of alcohol? That wouldn’t be very smart of you, as a broke college student. You have to take everything that’s free, no matter how harmful to your health it might be.

Well, except from drugs. You wouldn’t take free crack cocaine even if you were offered.

But when you drink, you find Jaemin’s attention more on you– his caring eyes watching your steps when you walk, making sure you don’t trip over your feet and fall. His arms put his jacket around your shoulders when you stand outside of the club with the band, the raven haired lead singer offering you a cigarette your companion denies for you before you even have a chance to open your mouth, and his smiley face beams at you when he holds your face in his palms and asks you if you want to go home. And you can’t lie, you’re enjoying all the attention– even though it might be coming solely from the fact that he has to look after you like you’re a baby, because you pretty much turn into one when you’ve had something to drink, but still, you can’t find it in yourself to compose yourself and tune down the drinks.

You’ll worry about the guilt when you wake up in the morning. Now is not the time.

You nod to his question, though, because you must admit that you’re getting a little sleepy in your night adventures. Following him like a lost puppy, you watch him as he gathers your roommate from the bar, the three of you now walking down the street towards your block, Jaemin taking the side of the sidewalk that’s closer to the road, his careful eyes watching over your every step making you even more surprised by the fact that he doesn’t have an older sister in his family that would shape him into such a gentleman.

“Everyone, did you have fun tonight?” he asks like a kindergarten teacher somewhere towards the end of the seemingly never ending walk home.

“Yes!” you chant along with Yizhuo, giggles erupting along the neighborhood.

“And what did we learn tonight?” he asks again, making your roommate frown at the question.

“That soccer guys suck!”

“That I can’t handle my alcohol!”

You both chime at the same time, making your companion nod, satisfied by both of your answers. Something about his sweet, scolding, yet patient tone makes your cheeks hurt from smiling when you two open up the front door to your apartment, your brain focused on listening to his small pep talk. “I hope you two take this as a learning experience and never make the same mistakes again! Alcohol is bad for your liver and broke soccer guys are bad for your wallet, but don’t you worry, I’m always here to remind you of such things when you forget.”

“Yes, Mr Na– oh no the lift’s broken again!” Yizhuo whines when she walks up to the elevator, scowling at the button that doesn’t light up when she presses it, the platform stuck somewhere between the second and the third floor. Normally, you wouldn’t mind such inconvenience– you don’t go to the gym often and every time you carry your groceries upstairs, you think of it as a little workout, trying to train your brain into thinking how good your ass would look only if you took the stairs every day, but failing as you go for the lift every time it works– but tonight, drunk, dizzy and a little tired, you’re glad you don’t break into loud cries at the newly found information.

“No!” you yell out, almost falling to your knees when your roommate presses a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet– although tipsy, Yizhuo still shows much care about your neighbors, it seems. Crouching in front of the unresponding device, you shake your head in disapproval at the whole situation, suddenly feeling like the whole world is against you just because you’re drunk and have to walk up to the seventh floor.

“Come on, ladies,” Jaemin says, patiently waiting at the first step of many.

“Oh, I’m not going,” you shake your head, a pout sitting on your lips as you rest your head on the wall, “I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“Y/N, stop being ridiculous,” the man sighs, walking closer to you, but seeing as you don’t budge, he only crouches down to your level and pokes your cheek with his pointer finger, seemingly regretting inviting you to the bar tonight, “want to get on my back, then? I’ll carry you upstairs,” he asks, gentle parenting you in the process of getting you home.

And see, if you were sober and completely in tune with your emotions and thought process, you’d say no and just walk up the stairs by yourself. But that’s not your situation right now, when you’re drunk and kind of falling for your roommate’s project partner, and so you only nod at him with bright eyes and securely jump to his back, nuzzling your face into the crook of his shoulder as he walks up the stairs to the sixth floor with both of you, patient with your drunken stubbornness.

“See, girls, sometimes things don’t go as you plan. But in those situations, you have to make a new solution and try to come up with something that is going to work. Life’s a bitch and there will be many things in your way, but you always gotta find a way around your obstacles,” he mumbles somewhere between the third and the fourth floor, “the bus is late? You run to the class. You get a stain on your shirt? You tell everyone it’s supposed to be there and that it’s a fashion statement. Your friend doesn’t wanna go out with you? You bribe her with sexy band guys.”

“And sometimes,” he says again, his tone of voice slowly lulling you to sleep, “the route you have to take might be harder than the one that failed. But that’s okay, because the end goal will be worth the trouble. The lift broke? Take the stairs, because at the end, there is a warm bed waiting for you in your apartment.”

You’re not sure where all of this wisdom is coming from, or how the hell his words are still coherent after so much physical exercise and also the amount of beers he had with his friends at the bar. You’re also not sure why he’s waffling so much– you bet it’s to pass time until he walks up to the seventh floor with your body on his back,

but you bet there’s a life lesson hidden somewhere in there.

The ringing of a doorbell is an unusual sound to your ears. You never have anyone use it, because frankly, you don’t even have that many friends in the first place, and the ones that do exist and come to hang out with you in your apartment always text you that they’re in front of the door instead, like everyone in the 21st century does nowadays. You don’t recognise this as the more practical method, but it’s the one that they all use, so you’ve gotten used to the fact over the time. The only people that use the doorbell are your landlord– because he loves to come check up on your apartment from time to time and then passively aggressively mention how there's a mess in your living room– and then Yizhuo’s friend Mark Lee that she met at the bistro she works at. They started hanging out and he’s the only one that actually picks her up at the door– as opposed to all of her other guy friends and dates that wait for her in the car. You think it’s sweet; the boy always wears a shy blush on his cheeks and nervously scratches his neck when you open the front door instead of your roommate and scream at Yizhuo that her date is here– to which she tells you that they’re not dating every single time, but you actually think you’re rooting for the adorable canadian, because after the men she chose to date before, you think she’s finally getting some sense into her head.

And so when the doorbell rings again, you get mentally prepared for either of those two outcomes. You don’t think it’s gonna be Mark Lee, because he always texts Yizhuo before hanging out with her and your temperamental roommate isn’t home yet– so the only reasonable option is your landlord Jinyoung, which makes shivers run down your spine as you pick up the mess scattered all around the floor in the entry hall and throw the stuff into the big closet at the right side of the wall, making sure it’s out of his sight.

Taking a deep breath in to collect yourself before the terror starts, you open the front door and put on your best fake smile, ready to face the wrinkled face of a middle aged man in a weird tracksuit– but to your surprise, there is one more person that can still use the ringbell on the door, and it’s none other than Na Jaemin.

“Hi!” he smiles, a wide grin sitting at his face. He’s once again in his usual attire that consists of Adidas sweatpants and a mint green hoodie, the clothing acting like his default skin in the game of life, and you can’t help but let out a satisfied sigh at the fact that it’s not your landlord that you have to talk to today; although speaking to Na Jaemin after the last time you met him isn’t much easier than sparking up a conversation about the state of your rented place.

“Hello,” you drag out, humming to yourself as you press your lips into a thin line, “Yizhuo’s not here yet,” you say, trying your hardest to not meet his warm eyes.

“Oh, I know! She texted me she’ll be late, but I was already on my way, so I figured I’ll just wait for her here,” he explains, naturally walking into your apartment as if he owned the place. And you don’t stop him– because frankly enough, you don’t have it in you to do anything else. And what would you even do? Let him stand outside?

And so, even though you weren’t prepared for a visitor today– because Yizhuo still hasn’t learned how to tell you that she’ll have people over– you walk along with him to the living room and see him invite himself to sit on the couch, body sprawled out all across the soft cushions. He seems like he lives here and not you– with how awkwardly you situate yourself on the other side of the sofa (he took your side– the one you picked the first day you moved in. Neither you nor Yizhuo ever sat on the other side ever since, it was an unwritten rule) and watch as he turns on the TV and scrolls through the channels. If this was anyone else, you’d find it inappropriate, rude even, but come on… it’s Na Jaemin we’re talking about. If he walks inside of your apartment and acts like he owns the place, who are you to tell him he doesn’t?

“You must really enjoy working on the project, if you’re around so often,” you mumble out, burdened by the fact that the silence between the two of you is slowly suffocating you out of the awkwardness of it all. One would say you wouldn’t know what awkwardness and shame is after embarrassing yourself in front of the man so much, but it’s quite the opposite, actually– as if the weight of it all was just packing on to each other, creating a big, heavy mess sitting on your shoulders, not letting you breathe.

“Oh, not really,” he says, turning his whole body and attention to you, eyes perking up at the sound of your voice, “I actually find it quite boring, if I’m being honest.”

Humming in response, you suddenly start to find the whole thing a little weird. Because if Jaemin doesn’t enjoy the project– and Yizhuo absolutely despises it too, or at least she told you she did– who in them has that much enthusiasm to meet up after school so often to work on it? If you were in their place, you’d just do it all in the span of a week. Projects you don’t like get lost somewhere in the back of your brain and you only remember them a few days before the due date, quickly scattering something and putting it on paper just so you don’t fail. Jaemin and Yizhuo, however, have worked on the project multiple times a week for the last two months, which is contradicting to the nature of your roommate in particular, because you know just how much she enjoys the art of procrastination as well.

“You must be really responsible, then,” you say, thinking this is the only possible solution– Na Jaemin doesn’t like the project, but he also doesn’t want to get a bad grade in it. That’s why he’s over at your flat multiple times a month, giggling with your roommate in the living room and working on the Neurophysiology essay that requires thorough research. That’s it– it must be.

“Well, I dunno about that,” Jaemin snickers, “this is my second time taking the class, actually. I failed it last year,” he grins, leaving you to stare at him with an opened mouth out of shock, the thoughts in your brain sprinting around like an itch you can’t really get to, making you shake your head in disbelief. This doesn’t sound like the words of someone who strives to get good grades in a subject– because if you had to retake a class, you’d be glad to just pass. Getting a good grade and putting in a lot of effort would be the last of your interests, especially after failing once– you’d have so much resentment for the subject you’d actually do the bare minimum, just to spite no one in particular but yourself.

You hum at that, at a loss for words.

“Do you not like having me around?” Jaemin asks, suddenly, catching you off guard. Looking up at him, sharply turning your head, your wide eyes must have betrayed you, since your companion lets out an amused laugh.

“That’s not it,” you try to save your skin, sighing, “I’m just wondering, that’s all.”

“So you don’t like having me around.”

“That’s not what I said!” you mourn out, suddenly scared of somehow offending the boy sitting in your living room. Being completely alone with him has been an emotional tsunami so far, having you praying and manifesting for your roommate to come back soon so you don’t have to deal with the pressure anymore. One moment, he has you all curious and guessing, the other one, he has you aimlessly trying to maintain an image you already lost the first second he saw you only dressed in a thin shirt with your wet hair staining the fabric, walking out the shower the first day he met you.

“Okay, so you’re saying you do like having me around?” he grins, the teasing glint in his smile driving you crazy, the weird turmoil on your insides almost making you stand up from your place on the sofa and running up against the wall. You bet that would bring you less pain and discomfort than having a conversation with him.

“Na Jaemin, you make me want to kill myself,” you mourn, draging your hands across your face in despair. Who would’ve thought that speaking to him all alone in your apartment could’ve been so much trouble? This is not at all how it went the night of the concert, but you’re willing to say that it was the effect of alcohol that made you get through the night. You can’t drink right now, in broad daylight, though– because that would legally make you an alcoholic.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. I wouldn’t be hanging around at your apartment so much if I didn’t like being around a certain someone that lives here either,” he says, matter-of-factly, as if the information didn’t just take all breath out of your lungs at the suggestion of something you pray your brain isn’t just misinterpreting in this very moment. Opening your mouth and closing it in a second, looking like a fish that’s been thrown out of the ocean and flapping around in the sand, you gape at the boy and furrow your brows, creating an ugly crease on your forehead that Yizhuo screamed at you about (she told you to stop making that face so often, because ‘it’s gonna ruin your skin and you’re gonna look old’. Like you can help it…).

“What do you even mean by tha–” you start, desperate for more explanation, when the door opens with a loud bang and your dear roommate finally marches up to the apartment with bangs sticking to her oily forehead and a frustrated frown on her face– choosing just the right moment to finally arrive, as if you haven’t been praying for this very moment for the last few minutes.

“I’m never going back to that fucking bistro ever again. Can you believe it? Lee Jeno decided to take a day off and tell everyone twenty minutes before the end of my shift, so I had to work for two more hours before somebody could come to cover him. Who even does that? Is everything okay in his brain?” she screams, throwing her bag to the floor as she walks up into the living room, finding you two there. “Why am I even asking? Fuck, of course he’s not mentally okay. And then a rush hour began and I had to serve the rudest customer I’ve ever encountered, and don’t even let me started on that fucking grandpa that complained about the fries being cold when I just got them out of the frier!”

Watching her little tantrum, you can’t help but giggle at your roommate. It’s an usual sight to you ever since she started working at the bistro, but Jaemin seems to be surprised at her temperamental outburst as he laughs at her like a maniac, watching her with mouth wide open and eyes twice their usual size, almost bursting out of their sockets.

“Don’t even try to start something today, Na Jaemin, or I’ll literally take a kitchen knife and slice your throat in half. Let’s get to this shit so I can shower,” Yizhuo says as she falls to the sofa with a loud thud, not even greeting neither of you before she kicks her hoodie off her body with an annoyed squeak.

You take this as your cue to leave– because if there is anyone else in the apartment that could be the person she can take it out on, you’re not willingly going to sit there and take her attention from them, sparing yourself for tonight.

Jaemin’s words resonate in your brain as you stumble into your room. There’s a certain someone he enjoys being around in this apartment, and when you look over your shoulder and see him with Yizhuo’s sweaty hoodie hanging off his head– you don’t dare to ask how it got there or why it was there in the first place, hearing his hearty laugh– you feel a ping close to your heart.

You don’t think you need an answer to the question anymore. How foolish of you to think it could be you.

When you went to college, you didn’t think you’d become the epitome of an average college student you see in movies and read about in Choi Minho fanfiction. Somewhere along the way, while keeping your assignments to the last possible day, living with a roommate that both gets on your nerves and makes you think you wouldn’t be able to survive without her by your side and going to more parties in a single semester than your whole entire life, you find yourself fitting all the criteria as you hang around your bedroom and get ready for what seems to be the biggest party you’ve ever set your foot in.

Your roommate is long gone now, and while you’d be frustrated by the fact that you were supposed to get to the party on your own, you don’t find yourself filled with rage when you remind yourself of the fact that this party is hosted by her cousin, Zhong Chenle, who took it upon himself to host the biggest birthday party of the century for his childhood best friend Park Jisung. Yizhuo was dragged to the big mansion to help with all the preparations, and while you sat around in class the whole morning, she spent the time with spamming you pictures of the place, coming from half-decorated to a fully, over-the-top, red solo cup crammed and loud music bearing building. The party starts at 8 and you’re set to leave in a bit, but there’s one issue that’s keeping you from hopping into the uber you’ve called for yourself– your dear roommate still hasn’t texted you the address, and with how fast the time is going and how she hasn’t replied to any of your messages since 6:25, you don’t think you’re getting a response any time soon.

And speaking honestly, you’ve made a list of rules for yourself. And you also set yourself to making sure you don’t break any of them.

Rule number one was to not get home later than 2 in the morning. Every time you do, you hate yourself for it the next morning. Rule number two closely ties with the first one, stating that you’re not allowed to get hammered. With the amount of partying you’ve been getting yourself into, you think it’s better to save your liver before it’s too late. And rule number three– however embarrassing it must sound– is that you’re not allowed to embarrass yourself in front of Na Jaemin again. Not after he had to see you half naked, collect your broken body from the ground and carry you upstairs on his back.

With how your evening’s going and you’re not not getting replies from the main organizator of the party herself, you don’t think you need the rule list at all, since it seems that you won’t even get to the party itself in the first place.

After many minutes of aimlessly scrolling through social media, dressed in the outfit you picked out yesterday, you are brought out of your dissociative episode with a ring on the doorbell. Cursing under your breath at the unwanted visitor, you open the door without much thought, the adrenaline in your veins caused by the fact that you might miss the party of the century making you not contemplate on the motion too much before you’re standing in front of Na Jaemin, unprepared and shocked to your core.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you ask, the words rolling off your tongue without much thought.

“Good to see you too!” he chants, words dipped in irony, furrowing his brows in confusion before smiling in hesitance. “Yizhuo sent me to get you to the party.”

Blinking at him a few times, the situation downing on you, a shake of your head is performed to clear your mind. “She did what?”

“Yeah, it got a bit hectic over there and she didn’t have time to text you the address, so she told me to just come pick you up. Don’t worry, I haven’t drunk yet,” he says, the explanation making you huff out at the irresponsible nature of your roommate– because truly, how much time can a simple text take– before you put on your shoes and take the bag prepared on the ground close to the door, following the man out of the building and into his car.

Sliding into the silver Toyota Auris, only a few minutes pass before you’re strangled with the reality of being alone with Na Jaemin again, and even though this is not the first time, it still gives you just the slightest kick of adrenaline. Keeping up with conversation is harder for you than you would’ve imagined, and suddenly you’re regretting the fact that you don’t have at least a tiny bit of alcohol in you to kick some courage into your skull, but as the low melody of the radio hits your ears and your driver starts to singing along with the lyrics, using a silly voice that makes you crack up, you realize that maybe, after embarrassing yourself in front of him so much, you don’t even have to feel tense anymore. Because realistically, it can’t get much worse than this.

“You look really nice, by the way,” Jaemin smiles, making your heart run miles around your ribcage. Admittedly, you did spend a few hours picking out the perfect outfit in hopes of being recognized by someone– maybe even Jaemin himself, okay, you’ll admit that as well– but the accomplishment of actually hearing him compliment you still surprises you with great measures.

“Thanks,” you clear your throat, “you- you do too.”

“Oh, thank god,” he mumbles, sighing dramatically, “I actually had to buy some new clothes, because Jeno said I can’t attend this super fancy party in a tracksuit, but you know how it goes, shit’s expensive nowadays, and this was the only thing on sale, so I grabbed it,” he explains, going on a tangent, this mannerism of his making you break into a smile, “and I can’t lie, I think I kinda rock the style and I was hoping for a compliment of two from the ladies tonight, so I’m glad to hear this from yours truly first.”

Chuckling at his rambling, you shake your head in disbelief. “I think you’d look good in anything, Na Jaemin,” you tsk, “you have that kind of face that everyone likes.”

“Oh really?” he asks, the tone of his voice teasing. “So that means you like my face?”

“I’m not everyone, you know,” you bite back despite feeling heat rising to your cheeks, wanting to take back all the words that have come out of your mouth in the span of the last few seconds.

“Now that’s hurting my feelings.”

“You care about my opinion that much?”

“Of course,” he grunts, looking at you for a split second before he parks the car in front of a big house, already popping with people to its seams, loud music overbearing the beat of the music playing in the car. The ride wasn’t even that long– you live 15 minutes away from the wealthy neighborhood, it seems– but it's still good that you got a ride, because you don’t know how long you’re gonna last in those heels you’re wearing. “I can’t trust Yizhuo when it comes to these things. I’m convinced she hates me a little.”

“Why would she hate you?” you ask, amused.

“She always looks annoyed whenever I open my mouth,” he snickers.

“She’s like that with everyone,” you mutter, even though you remember your roommate complaining about the amount of words that Jaemin can spit in a minute just about yesterday, “it’s just her resting bitch face.”

The engine turns off and you turn around in the passenger seat to gather your bag from the back seat, where you carelessly threw it in the rush of getting to the party as soon as possible. Quickly looking through its contains– because your anxiety tells you to, just in case you somehow magically decided to leave your wallet and your keys back home, despite checking and making sure they’re there at least 8 times already– you turn back towards the front, ready to get out of the vehicle when you’re met with the sight of Na Jaemin opening the door for you like a gentleman, waiting for you to walk down the imaginary red carpet, completely ignoring the nature of the party going on just a few meters away from you.

Bashfully escaping his car and thanking him on your way, you watch him lock the car and catch up with you on the sidewalk, leading the both of you to the expensive-looking building.

The song accompanying your arrival is now Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom!! by Vengaboys, and although you can’t deny the lyrics may be a little bit relatable to your current state right now, you can’t say the whole scene doesn’t look like a circus in your eyes. It’s Park Jisung’s birthday party, though, so you can’t say it doesn’t have to be a bit comedic, at least– the boy is quite known around these parts of the town. The whole place is filled with people you hardly know, and with the amount of teenagers and college students roaming around, you’re reminded a little of the fair– the only thing missing is a bouncy castle, in which you could clearly imagine Zhong Chenle with his best friend, hollering like the kids they still are, no matter how hard they’re trying to deny it.

Upon walking through the front door, you are met with the realization that Na Jaemin was abducted by a tall man with a puppy-like smile and another one, a little shorter one with brown, longer hair and a leather jacket adorning his figure. His face is screaming in despair, and although you find the expression funny, you let him be with his roommate and who seems to be his friend (you swear you saw the other guy in Yangyang’s basement, rolling a blunt with the boy somewhere in the middle of the night), deciding on finding your dear roommate so you can scream at her for being so irresponsible with your arrival to the party of the century. It takes you no longer than 15 minutes before you’re met with her strawberry blonde locks tied up in her signature bun, low-waisted jeans and a white crop-top adorning her figure that’s currently turned to you with her back, and before you can stop yourself, you approach her from behind, intending to scare her out of spite and also humor.

Shaking her by her shoulders, the girl turns to you with a sudden yelp before she bursts into laughter at seeing your face. “I thought you were that fucker Johnny! I almost threw this drink into your face, you know?”

“Oh, you’d regret that very soon if you did that,” you threaten, pointing a warning finger towards her face.

“Trust me, I know,” she giggles, shaking her head, “anyways, you got here!”

“Yeah, Jaemin picked me up,” you say, showing her a tight-lipped smile.

“He… he did?” the girl asks, furrowing her eyebrows at you, confusion very clearly written on her face.

“You told him to…?”

“No, I didn’t,” she shakes her head, snickering to herself. “I just told him to text you the address, because I was busy pouring all the drinks in the kitchen and making the speakers in the living room work…” she explains, the more words come out of her mouth, the more she breaks into a sly grin, the expression making you sigh in terror, knowing the amount of teasing that will come next.

“Why are you grinning like that? Stop it.”

“Na Jaemin likes youuuu,” she sing-songs, pointing a finger towards your forehead and digging into your skin with the sharp edge of her stiletto nail. Wincing away from her touch, you shake your head at her with a huff of frustration, wondering if she’s had enough to drink for it to cause all of this.

“He doesn’t, and we both know it.”

“Yeah, that’s why he picked you up,” she nods, before she takes a deep breath in, preparing herself for the long sentence that’s about to come out of her mouth, “and that’s why he insists on hanging out strictly over at our apartment, why he carried you up the stairs on his motherfucking back, why he bribed me just to get you to go to the concert with him, and why he won’t shut up about you literally every second the two of us are alone–”

“You know the same thing could suggest that he likes you?” you huff, roaming your hand through your hair in an attempt to soothe the weird bundle of nerves growing in your stomach. “He hangs out with you all the time, not me, you know…”

“That’s ‘cause you keep hiding in your room like a raccoon, you know.”

“That’s not true at all–”

“Okay, whatever you say. He’s coming towards us right now– so don’t look around or you’ll be too obvious– and I bet 100 pounds that he’s gonna drag you away from me and suggest you two play beer pong again, or whatever.”

“Yizhuo, I need you to shut the fuck–”

But before you’re able to finish your sentence, you feel a hand land on your shoulder, your whole figure spinning towards the source of the contact, finding a grinning Na Jaemin in your rear point of view– how unexpected, really– his body seemingly full of adrenaline as he jumps in his place, looking like a squirrel high on caffeine, his next sentence making your brain short-circuit as you hear Yizhuo snicker in your right ear, a bump on your shoulder and a shove into the male’s figure encouraging you in your movements out the room.

“Normally, I’d drag you to play beer pong with me again, but if I come back to the events that occurred the last time you got drunk, I have a suggestion that’s more considerate to your liver– wanna sing karaoke with me? You’re not allowed to say no, by the way,” and before you’re able to register what’s going on in this very moment, the conversation you two had with Yizhuo keeps repeating over and over in your brain the whole time you’re by Jaemin’s side.

Curse Ning Yizhuo for making you think he could like you at least a little– because even though he sang a corny love song with you at the karaoke machine and introduced you to his friends, along with taking you off your feet in an enthusiastic hug when you two won against his roommate and his best friend at a make-shift karaoke battle (you two got a 98 point score, just saying…), there’s a simple man called insecurity sitting soundly in the corner of your brain not letting you contemplate the fact and take it seriously, no matter how hard you try.

jaem [10:21]: hi how are you feeling!!! jaem [10:21]: was wondering if u wanted to get lunch :p jaem [10:21]:not that im assuming u have a hangover bc u hardly drank yesterday but yknow would be nice idk jaem [10:22]: theres this new pancake place in town :OO

“You don’t look as bad as I expected!” Jaemin greets you as you two walk inside of the new bistro that opened not a long time ago– you only knew about it because Yizhuo hoped and prayed that the fact that there’s a new place in town will mean that less customers were going to show up at the one she’s working at, and you can’t say you don’t hate that logic. After hearing her stories about rude customers, you believe your roommate deserves a break. Working with people is hard– and as she said, you only realize just how stupid some of them can be when you truly start working in customer service.

“Ouch!” you utter out, your ego suddenly falling at the backhanded compliment.

“Not that you look bad, like, ever, I just– you usually look way worse after a party, you know,” he explains while opening the door for you and leading you towards one of the booths, the red sofas making the whole place look like a retro motorest you’d find somewhere on your way through the middle of nowhere. The polka dot walls only beg you to order a milkshake with your pancakes, and you do exactly that, feeling unapologetic in your actions. It’s not your fault– and you guess that you deserve to treat yourself to a nice chocolate swirl once in a while.

“I didn’t drink as much last night, you know,” you snicker, remembering the fact that you actually pretty much managed to stick to your rules the whole time you were enjoying yourself at Park Jisung’s birthday party.

“Should’ve dragged you to one more game of beer pong, then.”

“So you do want me to suffer, huh?” you roll your eyes at him, resting your back at the flashy red booth to get a better look at his shifting expressions.

“It’s fun to see you embarrassed when you recollect your memory, that’s all,” he admits, kicking your leg under the table in a teasing manner.

Snickering at his comment, you hide your face in your hands at the growing embarrassment. Taking a deep breath in to hide your hesitance, you look outside your window for a short moment before you turn back to him, continuing on with the conversation before the moment gets too awkward for you to bear. “Yizhuo’s still asleep, by the way. She drank too much because Chenle got a bet with her and she was sure she could outdrink him and then the Mark guy had to carry her limp body to our house last night,” you explain, “she’s the one with a massive hangover right now, that’s why she’s not joining.”

“I see you two like princess treatment,” Jaemin teases, referring to the time he had to collect you and bring you home on his back, “besides, I invited you, not her. If she was here, she wouldn’t stop complaining about her headache, and I really don’t need that energy in my life right now.”

Laughing, you move your hands away from the table as a server brings you two your plates, filled to the brim with pancakes smothered in syrup and chocolate topping. A shiny cherry is adorning the serving, and you can already feel yourself salivating at the sight, the sweet smell filling your senses as you dig in, feeling hypnotized by the food in front of you. You are a sweets lover, and while you don’t know how Jaemin managed to do that, he hit the right spot with making you join him for a sweet lunch– making you adore the man even more, if that was even possible.

“Does it taste good?” Jaemin asks, watching as you nod to him with your mouth filled– as if the sight wasn’t enough of a confirmation to him– a hum of satisfaction slipping out of your vocal cords.

“It’s so good,” you mumble when you swallow, wiping your mouth with the napkin you found at the corner of the table. “Just what I needed right now.”

Jaemin finally digs into his own plate, a bright smile sitting at his face, and as you eat, you find yourself glancing his way from time to time. After all this time, you’re finally starting to realize just how relaxed you’re truly feeling right in this moment, despite having oily hair that’s tugged out of your way with a headband and only wearing your casual clothes, being too lazy to change your sweatpants for jeans and your hoodie for a fancier top. Jaemin just has something about him that once kept you on your toes, nerves tingling all in your insides, the same thing now making you calm and appreciative of his presence. Who would’ve thought that it would only take you two hanging out together the whole time of Park Jisung’s birthday party to finally feel relaxed and natural around each other?

Watching him as he takes a sip of his milkshake, you get surprised at his disgusted face. “What’s up?”

“I forgot I hate strawberries,” he notes, scratching the back of his neck as he battles the face of discomfort spreading over his features.

“And you ordered a strawberry milkshake… because you hate strawberries?” you snicker, laughing at his face.

“Well, I ordered it for the aesthetic, I suppose, but the fact that it’s actually gonna taste like strawberries kind of… escaped my brain for a sec,” he explains, making you shake your head in disbelief at him, offering the boy your own milkshake that you have yet to take a sip of.

“Want mine? It’s a banana one. I don’t mind strawberries,” you say, smiling at him encouragingly when he hesitantly eyes the tall glass.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” you say, nudging the milkshake towards him, seeing as he exchanges the straws and sets the pink drink in front of you with a grin full of gratitude. The man takes a sip out of your drink, his eyes instantly growing wide at the taste, nodding his head and closing his eyes in pure bliss.

“Now, this is perfect.”

Giggling at his expression, you finish your plate and sit in a comfortable silence as the boy in front of you does the same. Seeing as he’s done with his serving as well, both of your stomachs full of the delicious meal, you watch him as he clears his throat before speaking up again. “So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“You know, the usual,” you shrug, “check up on my roommate to see if she hasn’t died in her sleep, maybe try to wake her up in a way that doesn’t get me killed… Do the chores she was supposed to do because now she won’t stop complaining about her headache, and then watch the Spiderman movies, because I saw Tom Holland on my TikTok for you page the other day and suddenly got obsessed,” you explain, chuckling to yourself.

“No way!”

“What?”

“I wanted to watch those too!” Jaemin exclaims, expression full of surprise and excitement, his face lighting up something inside of you that makes you speak before you even get a chance to contemplate your decision.

“Let’s watch it together, then!”

His face falls into disappointment, pursing his lips as he shakes his head, full of disappointment. “I can’t today, I promised Jeno to drive him to his grandma’s in the afternoon.”

“That’s okay, let’s just watch it some other day. I’ll wait with it for you,” you say, finishing the last of your milkshake, seeing as the boy’s eyes light up at your suggestion.

“But what about your plans?”

“I can watch something else today,” you say, “maybe I’ll watch something with Yizhuo, so she forgets about her grumpy mood, you know.”

And with that, the plans are arranged. It all happens so quickly and spontaneously you can’t even let yourself process your actions, your brain only waking up when Jaemin pays for you at the counter despite your protests, deep voice full of teasing telling you that it’s okay and that it’s for all the snacks he’s eaten and will further eat while he’s over at your place.

“What do you mean it’s not on Netflix?” you hush, scrolling through the app popped up on the TV, clearly not showing any signs of the Spiderman movies. You could’ve sworn you’ve seen the movies on there when you were randomly scrolling through the service one day, not really interested in seeing them, but when it’s the time for you to actually watch the series, it’s nowhere to be seen, vanished from the face of the earth. It happens quite a lot with Netflix, actually– and while google may say the movie is available, when you open up the app yourself, it’s like you’re banned from seeing everything that’s there for the rest of the world to see.

“Well, we can just watch something else, then–”

“I am not watching anything else, Jaemin, we came here to watch Spiderman, so that’s what we’re doing,” you announce, rolling your eyes in annoyance. It’s not his fault– of course it isn’t– but the way he’s willing to give up on the movie so easily is making your blood boil. You’re no quitter when it comes to movies– either you get it on Netflix, or you do some digging (doesn’t matter if it takes you more time than the actual running time of the movie itself) and pirate it online. A few ads about hot singles in your area could never stop you when you’re about to watch something your soul has been searching for the last few weeks.

“We don’t have Disney plus, though,” the man squints, seemingly at the end with his solutions.

“We don’t need those paid streaming services,” you roll your eyes, shutting the TV off and getting your laptop from the bottom shelf of your coffee table, “let’s just find it online.”

Typing in your password and opening up the browser, a few searches of Spiderman online for free later, you’re able to find at least five sites with your desired movie in it. The only thing left for you to do is to check if it has subtitles– because when you watch a movie, all your listening comprehension abilities fly out of the window, no matter how fluent in the language you are– and see which one has the best quality. Settling on an ugly looking site with three ads covering the video window and another five around the corners, you smile to yourself, noticing as your companion only stares at you in awe. The look makes you feel like you just hacked the FBI site, and judging from his eyes, he’s admiring you as if you really did just show him the doings of Anonymous, but you only roll your eyes at him and snicker as you point towards your screen.

“Now we just click through 25 ads and pop-up windows and we’re there,” you nod, motioning towards the laptop, before a sound of the front door opening makes you jump up in surprise and halt in your movements.

Seeing as your roommate gets into the hall, seemingly out of breath and red in her face, carrying her tote bag scrunched up in the palm of her hand like a sack full of dog shit instead of the fashion statement it is, Yizhuo looks at you with furrowed eyebrows and a lost look on her face. “What’s Jaemin doing here?”

The boy next to you huffs in offense, opening his mouth and chiming in his defense. “And what are you doing here? Did the three meters from the elevator to the front door tire you this much?”

“I live here!” she exclaims, throwing her arms up in the air. “And the lift is broken again, so I had to take the stairs. I don’t think we had a hangout scheduled today?” she asks, pointing towards her project partner with a lost look, seemingly annoyed at herself just in case she forgot about the study session and made other plans instead.

“No,” Jaemin gets out, shaking his head, “we didn’t.”

“Oh,” Yizhuo says, eyes drifting from him back to you and then from you back to him, before realization settles onto her face as she nods. “Oh,” she repeats, more exaggerated now, “I see how it is. Inviting Na Jaemin over when I’m not around…”

Heat rising to your cheeks, you speak up for the first time, completely ready to shield yourself from her slandering words. “Yeah, speaking of that, weren’t you supposed to be on your date with Mark?”

The girl smiles at you in irony, noting the choice of words, before she runs into her room and comes out with a purse instead, dropping her things into the new bag. Before she’s out of the flat again, she pops a head back into the living room, waving at you with one last goodbye. “I just had to take a different bag, since this kept falling off my shoulder. I’ll see you guys in the evening, and please, out of all places, don’t shag at the kitchen counter, at least–”

“Your date is waiting.”

“At least I admit that it’s a date, sweetie, so in your place, I’d shut my mouth,” she recites, tone laced with bitterness, “okay, bye, kiss kiss!” she says before the sound of the door loudly shutting pierces through your ears, leaving the two of you in complete silence.

Clearing your throat, deciding to not go back to the things that have come out of your roommate's mouth, you shift your focus back onto the laptop, awkwardly scratching your neck before speaking up. “Now that’s out of the way…” you mumble, “can you please try to get the movie playing? There will be about 75 ads popping up, you just need to patiently close each and every one of them and not play the porn games, okay?”

“Why would I–”

“I’m gonna make some popcorn in the meantime, since I imagine it’s gonna take a while. Oh and also, you can’t pause the movie, because that makes the whole process repeat and we’ll have to close all of the ads again, so when it’s done, just call me and I’ll be quick,” you finish explaining before disappearing into the kitchen area.

Rummaging through the cupboards, you finally acquire the popcorn you’ve been searching for. Plopping it into the microwave and setting the timer to approximately 3 minutes, you go on a search for more snacks– sweet ones this time, since chasing down the saltiness with a chocolate bar is your favorite activity to do after eating popcorn– and getting out some bowls to put everything into, preparing the things onto the kitchen counter.

Too absorbed in the noise of the corn popping in the microwave, you don’t notice footsteps approaching you in the small room, the voice of Na Jaemin scaring you to death.

“I love these!” he exclaims, motioning to the M&M’s you just opened and poured into a bowl. His voice makes you turn back to him in surprise, adrenaline in your veins only heightening when your face almost meets his chest, his body so close to your figure you can almost feel the heat radiating off his figure. Gasping at the close proximity, you react automatically and try to take a step back from him, but your back only meets the counter that somehow does nothing to support your frame as you back up to it, making you lose your balance and almost crash into the hard surface.

Jaemin’s arms shoot up quickly to steady you, one hand landing on your hip and another one gently catching the back of your head into his palm so you don’t meet with the upper drawers of the kitchen counter in a painful thud, the soft gesture making pools of honey gather in your stomach at the action. “Careful,” he snickers at your taken-aback posture, your hands aimlessly clutching the edge of the countertop.

“Well, maybe if you didn’t appear out of nowhere, I wouldn’t almost smash my head open out of surprise,” you mumble, eyes shifting from his face towards his chest instead, the so well-known feeling of curiosity and nerves you thought was long gone whenever you are around Jaemin approaching you again in great measures, keeping you up on your toes.

He only shrugs at your expression, not really offering you any more words, a chuckle escaping past his lips almost driving you to insanity.

One of his arms– the one cradling the crown of your head– comes down around you and reaches into the sweets bowl, taking a few into his hold and dropping them onto his tongue. Chewing, with an overly-exaggerated hum of satisfaction, the man offers you the sweets and feeds you off his palm, the sugar melting on your tongue somehow reminding you of the man standing in front of you, the tension growing big in your stomach.

“You’re standing very close,” you mutter under your nose when you notice his and your thighs touching, hearing as he hums at your remark.

“Do you not like it?”

“I–” you stutter, cheeks only further heatening at the question, “that’s not what I said.”

“See,” he snickers, “I’m standing in perfect proximity, then.”

Eyes hesitantly jumping to his face, seeing him looking down at you with warm eyes and a teasing glint in his smile, your heartbeat quickens even more, slowly starting to match the rhythm of the corn popping in the microwave. His hand still on your hip, the contact of it with your clothed skin burning, you’re suddenly finding it really hard to keep your nerves down, swallowing harshly before you open your mouth to speak up or else you’re going to go crazy.

“Jaemin–”

“Can you admit that to yourself?” he cuts you off, suddenly, face curious and a little more hesitant than before. Looking at him with confusion in your eyes, he repeats the question. “That this is a date. Can you… can you admit that to yourself, Y/N?”

Blinking a few times at the strange inquiry, you stutter again, your thoughts running back and forth in your brain too fastly for you to catch up with them. “I– well, I–”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Jaemin snickers again. “I was told that you’re a bit oblivious, and that I should probably be more direct with my actions, because of… obvious reasons…” he chuckles, “so if you needed confirmation, I’d think of this as a date. And the lunch we had together before as well, if that wasn’t clear enough… I originally wanted to play it more subtly, but I realized that I should maybe change my ways for you to get me, so… if you don’t want this to be a date, just tell me. I just thought I should tell you.”

Gasping at his words, you shake your head in clear disapproval, suddenly too worried about him getting the wrong message. “It’s– I was hoping… this was a date? I– I mean–”

The man in front of you visibly relaxes, giggling at your reaction. His heartfelt laughter makes the mood lighter again– the knot in your stomach loosening a little only for a bit, before the man catches you off guard with another question, his face inching dangerously close to you.

“Do you do kisses on first dates, then?”

Breath shaking, eyes shifting from his deep eyes to the plush skin of his lips, you mumble out a reply. “I mean… by what you just said, this is not really a first date, so…”

“Does that mean I can kiss you?”

Gaping into his face, you nod– barely visible, but it’s there and it’s enough of a confirmation– before your eyes are shut in expectation and his soft lips land on yours, the sweetness of candy mixing in with the saccharine nature of his personality, gentle presses to your parted mouth making your knees week with bliss. Your hands hesitantly find their place on his neck, bringing him closer when he tries to pull away, earning yourself a smile from the male that you can feel in the kiss, the knot in your stomach fully disappearing and morphing into lightness and gentle fluttering.

Feeling the man sucking on your bottom lip and gently pinching the skin of your hip that he’s still kneading in between his fingers, you squeal into the contact as he gently hosts you up onto the kitchen counter, lips attacking yours only breaking apart when the microwave goes off and you try to catch your breath in between hungry kisses.

“Jaemin–”

“Hm?” he hums as his lips occupy themselves with your jaw instead, seeing as you’re meaning to talk right now and he’s a gentleman– he doesn’t want to break your words.

“The popcorn’s done,” you sigh, his lips only reaching further down your neck, not really paying attention to anything you’re saying, only responding with a content hum of acknowledgment. Seeing as he doesn’t really care– and neither do you, honestly, with his lips so magically attached to your skin– you let yourself indulge in the action again, tugging him back towards your face by his chin and connecting your lips once again, firm kisses exchanged between the two of you as his hands stay secure on the curve of your hips.

Fingers threading into the hair on his nape, you chuckle into the kiss when he talks in between, annoying you and amusing you at the same time– since you can’t get enough of his mouth, but still find his words kind of funny. “Oh look, it only took this long for you to realize I have a crush on you…”

Tired of his teasing, you shake your head in disbelief as you decide to move your lips away from his mouth, but rather pressing them along his jaw, just the way he did only a few seconds ago, shyly, yet determinately attaching yourself to his neck, pressing soft kisses steadily in between more hungrier ones, admiring the redness of his skin when you part away from him and see the wet spots you just attacked. “Can’t say it wasn’t worth it, though,” he hums as you seemingly find his soft spot, his whole body reacting as he squirms under you and moves you so you’re back against his lips, the contact more heated and rushed.

His hand slowly teases the edge of your shirt, cold fingertips drumming across your belly, and the further up he moves, the more goosebumps appear all over your back, pressing yourself closer to him on the uncomfortable kitchen counter.

“I know Yizhuo said no shagging on the kitchen counter, but I mean…” he hums as his hand reaches the hem of your bra, “what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, am I right?”

Giggling at his comment, you momentarily contemplate to giving in to the temptation, but a loud noise coming from the living room is enough to wake you up back to your senses, the sound of the movie acting as a wake up call, causing your whole body to jump and shrug Jaemin’s hands off you; his swollen lips and flushed cheeks on your full display when you gape at him.

“The movie’s playing?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he nods, “forgot to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me! I explained that you can’t pause it, now we have to load it again because rewinding it does the same,” you mourn, pushing him a little further away from you so you can jump off the counter and chime into the living room, his footsteps following you.

“I mean, I thought this was much more entertaining than the movie, but okay,” he says, causing you to playfully swat him on the shoulder before you close the tab and reopen it again, shoving him towards the kitchen instead.

“Go and get the popcorn out. I’ll load it back up, since you’re totally useless at the art of pirating,” you chime, rolling his eyes at him, battling back the grin that’s threatening to settle onto your features all while you’re trying to calm down the erratic beating of your heart.

And when the movie finally plays and you let yourself settle against Jaemin’s figure on the sofa, content with his arms around your middle and the occasional comments he lets out at the scenes rolling on the screen, you find yourself wondering how after all of this, this is the way you end up with him– spontaneously and totally unprepared.

A scene of Peter Parker appears on your laptop, the man in the red spider suit shooting webs to the top of the building to get MJ into safety, making a bubbly laugh heave out of Jaemin’s throat. “I wish I had those when I had to carry you drunk to the top floor,” he teases.

“Oh shut up, you did that to yourself,” you roll your eyes, reminding yourself of the day with much despair in your memory.

“And what was I supposed to do, leave you there?” he chuckles. “Besides, I quite liked the journey. Didn’t even mind that it took so long… it made the top floor feel like a big reward, you know,” he says, and when he looks at you from the corner of his eye, his orbs warming up like hot chocolate,

you swear there’s a metaphor– hell, a life lesson– somewhere in there.

#nct #nct dream #na jaemin #jaemin #nct x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream x reader #jaemin fluff #jaemin fic #jaemin fanfic #jaemin drabble #jaemin imagine #nct dream fluff #nct dream scenario #nct dream fic

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shopaholixs · 2 months ago

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Camila Cabello wearing mock-crocs by Vivienne Westwood.

Nylon France September 2024

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stellayuta · 5 months ago

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Love on The Grid - Formula 1 AU! Yuta Okkotsu - Pt 2.

Your likes, comments and reblogs really encourage me to write more! So do interact with this post and let me know your thoughts 🧡

PART 1

synopsis: One-night stands were nothing but a necessary painkiller for your inability to cross paths with true love. Your most recent find at a Vegas Club was no different. He was boring, obedient, SLOW! You leave him high and hanging hoping you'd never see him again until you find yourself gawking at a supersized billboard of him on a Vegas highway with the title 'LEGEND RETURNS TO VEGAS'.

genre: some s*xual tension, a lot of fluff, thrill and angst

content: 18+ only. Formula one driver! Yuta x f! reader, use of alcohol, swearing, mentions of sex

word count: 5k

a/n: part 2 came soon because i'm so pumped lolol. Note, In this story, Megumi and Toji aren't related.

WARNING: always use protection!

You sat in your hot, plastic seat with bated breath, like a thousand others, keeping your eyes trained on the asphalt of the track.

Even though it was November, temperatures in Vegas were no good - either that, or the revelation that your hookup from last night is a world-renowned athlete is making you nauseous.

You were in the most uncomfortable position in the entire stands combined, smack in the middle of a fired up Noritoshi and a spiteful Kokichi, who were planning on probably shouting at the top of their lungs for their favorite driver on the grid.

"When's this starting?" You turn to Miwa, a bit nervous.are You nervous to see that man, Yuta, in the middle of his job? What if he doesn't perform well - that would be embarrassing. Oh well, no one here knows about us anyway so it's fine. Except for his number one fan Noritoshi maybe.

"Well, they're almost done with the formation lap, so they should line up at the start line soon. Red Bull's Geto has the pole with a surprise front line seat for Ferrari's Gojo. King Okkotsu is sitting third with Ferrari's second, Itadori Yuji. Then it's Red Bull's Mahito followed by Merc's Toge and - " he goes on and on, speaking jargon and names You don't understand.

"Noritoshi." You stop him in the middle of his enthusiastic speech. "You understand that none of what you said passed through my brain right?"

"Ah well, none of it matters!" He cackles. "When the race begins - you will know who you'll cheer for and who will have you at the edge of your seat. Who gets your heart pumping." He says, fisting his chest. The last bit seemed a bit unintentionally personal but you roll your eyes at him anyway.

The drivers are soon done with their 'formation lap' which Kokichi is nice enough to enlighten you - is a circle they do around the track to prep their tyres for the race and check the tracks and engines. You also see now that Pole is the car sitting first in the starting lineup, as you narrow your eyes at dark, red and blue car zooming its way to ease into the frontmost bracket. That must be the bane of Noritoshi's existence and the Object of Kokichi's desire - Geto Suguru.

Behind him is a flashy red car that earns a deafening roar of cheer as he comes into position. That must Gojo Satoru.

Music Recommendation:

Behind him, and you find yourself looking really keenly. You spot the teal and midnight black hues of a fiery car, followed by another deafening roar and a partial standing ovation. So that's him. 'Mr. Cute Dick, I don't drink, I am not a virgin'. You smirk at thought of such a wallflower being at the center of one of the hottest sports in the world, in a championship with the highest stakes.

"Looks like Y/N is an Okkotsu fan." Noritoshi claims, grinning sarcastically at Kokichi who replies with a grimace. "No, I clearly saw her looking keenly at Geto."

"Ah, shut up the two of you." You snap. "Let me watch!"

The both of them exchange glances at your sudden interest but humor you as the crowd waits with a chilling silence. The five red lights light up, sounding a beep and you can hear your heartbeat in that moment as they turn green without warning and the race is on!

The set of 20 cars pick up speed at a maddening rate and are soon accelerating through the curves and straights of the track, tailing one another. The commentator is particularly zealous, and you find yourself listening to him with a lot of attention. Your eyes never leave the Teal and Dark vehicle with his tiny head popping out the cockpit, protected by his shiny, silver helmet.

For around 30 laps or so, nothing changes, and the people have started chatting amongst themselves. You slump back down into your seat.

There is some action going on at the back of the line-up with a few of the cars overtaking and re-overtaking one another.

"Well, this is boring…" You admit.

"It has its moments." Noritoshi states. "Oh wait, what's that-"

You turn to the track so fast, your vision goes blurry, and You nearly miss the spectacle.

The second red is quickly closing in on Yuta's Teal but Yuta swivels out of the way just in time, apparently surprising his tail-end as the driver, Itadori, loses control and touches the back of the first red car, Gojo's. Both of them start spinning dramatically and are vaulted out of the race at one of the turns.

"Collision! In the Top Five! Both Ferraris are out!" The commentator is roaring out now, with several people standing to get a better view.

You yourself are concerned for the Ferraris that seemed to have lost some parts of the car, leaving behind a trail of debris. But soon enough, both drivers emerge from their respective cars, with the taller one giving the crowd a thumbs up. He removes his helmet and a layer of clothing to reveal striking snow-white hair and dazzling smile. This sport is too fucking dangerous.

"The collision will be under investigation for sure to see if Ferrari's Number 3, Itadori is at fault! For now, the safety car is out."

You train your gaze on Yuta again. He seems to have taken a different route from the track now, heading towards a group of people, clad in suits and uniforms similar to the colors of his car.

"Hey, what's he doing?" You ask Noritoshi. You almost hear Kokichi mumbling "Oh shit." under his breath.

"That's a pit stop. Change of Tyres. Now is a brilliant time for this." Noritoshi says, his lips quivering. Is he really that excited for Yuta.

"The Safety Car has been taken off and with Mercedes' Number 7 quick thinking, Okkotsu takes the lead of the race!" The commentator announces earning a barrage of cheer from the crowd and a giant sigh from Kokichi.

"But not far behind him is Red Bull's Number 4, Geto, fastest car of the crop, who is looking to overtake… He has the DRS on and, and…." You don't need to listen to the commentator anymore because You see it happening and You almost let out some weird feral choke as Yuta barely, barely manages to keep his lead and the vicious, red and blue car accepts defeat, staying behind. You finally breathe out when You see Yuta gaining some speed and maintaining a good distance between him and Geto.

Kokichi pokes your shoulder and gives you a look of immense worry when You realize You are literally gripping your hair at the roots with both hands.

"ah, hah!" You laugh nervously, letting go off your now scrunched up hair. You lean back again as they announce the final lap and with no difficulty, as the checkered flag is waved, Yuta's Mercedes finishes first, with Geto behind him, followed by the other red bull, Mahito.

All of us rise to give the winners a standing ovation as confetti is blasted into the air and fireworks decorate the already shimmering Vegas skyline. You watch in wonder at the colors in the sky as Yuta pumps his fists up, getting out of his car and running over to his team.

"Good win, bro." Kokichi smiles at Noritoshi, who You now notice is on the verge of tears.

You see Yuta remove his helmet, but You can only make out his dark hair from this distance. You don't stop yourself from pouting at the disappointment. Why do You feel like You deserve being close to him right now. Maybe your good-luck suck off today guaranteed his win.

You see him disappear into the pavilion and ask Noritoshi if we can take a closer look at them.

"Close is not close enough to get their autographs but I can get you close enough to see their faces." Noritoshi claims and You give him a smile of gratitude.

"Geez Y/N. Did I really convert you in one race? Can't say if I'm prouder of you or myself." He jokes.

We stand for the Japanese national anthem as we cheer for the winning drivers receiving their trophies and drowning each other in champagne. Geto Suguru doesn't seem to be too keen to join into the racket, but Mahito wants to push the whole bottle down Yuta's throat. You smirk at the view. No teetotalling today?

As the crowd disperses out of the stands, we make our way through as well. You are tightly holding on to one of Miwa's and Momo's hands, each.

Noritoshi guides us through a few sections of the crowd and through a few random nooks and alleys of the arena until we reach what seems like a back gate. You see that a sizable yet dealable crowd is already standing there with Cameras and posters and shirts in hand.

"Well, this is a guarded secret, so not many know." Noritoshi winks at us. Today You are glad You became friends with his girlfriend, Momo.

We join the rows of people, but you fight your way to at least the second from start row, earning a lot of swears and some chick even trying to pull your hair.

You gaze at the gate with hope. One last look. Just to curb your excitement. It's just excitement nothing else. I'll be done after this. I'll go back to your city and drown yourself in work. None of this ever happened…. but why do You feel oddly bitter.

Is it because You realized Yuta and You are worlds apart? You are just an ordinary, honest worker - a commonality. Whereas he a star athlete, loved by the masses and with access to as many options as he wants. But what You have learnt from your past is, people can be as special or common as they want - a person who wants to find options, will always go out in search of options.

And as if to prove your point, You feel an ominous buzz in your hands right as You hear the doors open. You check your phone to see the screen flashing "Megumi Baby." right onto your face. You don't react or move; You simply glare at the screen. You are unable to breath as memories come flooding in.

Promises, nectar-soaked words, caressing your face with the deepest look of love. His bare back shining with sweat as he pounded into a girl from your workplace that YOU had introduced to him as your coworker. Him turning around, expressionless, leaving without giving you an explanation. Him telling you that you were expecting too much of him and You should have never assumed we were a thing since he was just trying new things in life.

All of it comes back to me, not particularly with ease. It washes over you like a tsunami. Completely drowns me. It's not until the incessant shouting of the crowd brings you to your senses that You snap out of your trance.

"Yuta! Yuta!" the people cheer. "Look here, please, just once. Yuta!"

You stare in horror as You spot Yuta's back getting into his matte black car. You are only able to see a small fraction of the back of his head and his white shirt.

You missed your chance.

You look back at the still ringing phone and want to smash it to bits. Fuck you, Megumi. Fuck you.

The first thing You do is cut the call and block his vile number. Then You try to scream out Yuta's name too in a futile attempt to get his attention, but You are not loud enough.

Amazing.

You start laughing to yourself now.

What was the point of this?

You recall yourself looking in the mirror at your apartment, coaching yourself to make this a pleasure trip. You would hookup with the best guy You could find, forget Megumi for good and move on with your life. So, whatare You doing now?

That guy Yuta would probably head to some lavish after party now and have a string of the prettiest girls in the world willing to suck him off. What use is it down?

The realization nearly brings you to tears. You should have never tried. You slowly retract your raised hands and sink back into the crowd, letting them continue their cheers. You turn back and slowly make your way out of the crowd and towards your friends.

"Wow, Y/N. Even Noritoshi and I didn't go that far in. You good?" Kokichi asks.

"Y/N, sweetie, you look like you're about to throw up what's wrong?" Momo asks me, cupping your face while Miwa rubs your arm.

"Megumi called…" You admit and all of them show a violent shift in expression.

"You haven't blocked that asshole yet?" Miwa asks, furious. You shake your head. "I just did."

"Y/N. You better not maintain any contact with him. He's the absolute scum of-"

"Hey, hey there miss." Suddenly our discussion is interrupted by a polite voice. We all turn around to see two men in suits and glasses standing tall and strong, waiting behind us. They look oddly familiar somehow with the waxed-up hair and somber faces. One of them has a scar near his lips and the other has his hair in a messy bun.

"Miss, are you the one who took Mr. Okkotsu out of the Four Seasons Club last night?" One of them, the bun guy, asks in a business-like fashion, pointing at me. Ah, now You remember them. The two lookers from the club last night, hiding Mr. wallflower behind their broad backs.

Scarface gets a call before You could reply though.

"Yes, Mr. Okkotsu. We're on our way. Well, we have a surprise for you." he tells Mr. Okkotsu mischievously. You narrow your eyes at the word "Surprise."

Scarface exchanges a knowing look with Bunhair and both of them cage you in.

"Would you like to see Mr. Okkotsu, again? It's not like we can force you, but he gave us specific instructions to find you and let him know."

"I didn't make him out to be a stalker you know." You say sarcastically, pondering if You should accept their offer. your friends do give you a strange look and You almost want to tell at least Noritoshi what's going on. But before You can take a call, You get a beep from your phone. This time it's a fucking EMAIL from Megumi.

Jesus, this man.

"I'm coming." You say abruptly. "I'll meet up with you guys later." You tell your friends as they give you looks of utter confusion.

"And burn this shitty device please." you say, tossing your phone towards Kokichi. "At least until I get some sort of restraining order against Megumi."

You exchange a look with Noritoshi and he knows in his heart that You will certainly get an autograph for him.

The two men take surround you as they guide you towards the waiting car. A matte black Lambo. They make sure to hide you from prying eyes, which isn't too hard with their gigantic muscular bodies.

You take a deep breath before You open the door and slide in.

Yuta and you share a good 10 seconds of absolute silence. Honestly, he looks like he's about to fracture his jaw from how wide his gaping mouth is getting. The two men climb into the front and openly laugh at his expression.

"Really, Okkotsu?" they say in unison.

"Wh-wh-wha-" He stutters.

"If you're that offended to see me, I can get out." You tease him, knowing he's going to grab your arm and make you stay. That's exactly what he does.

"Sorry, I was just surprised." He regains his composure. "Well, it's good to see you again, after last time…"

Uff, he shouldn't remind you because you wouldn't be able to control your cheeks getting flushed. There is another round of awkward silence before he decides to continue.

"Ah, right. You left your undergarments in the room last night, I thought you'd want them back so I-" before he can say anything else you slap your palm onto his lips, turning an embarrassing shade of tomato red.

"Not here, not right now!" You whisper-yell at him but his bodyguards/managers/goons/whatevers are quick to catch onto the conversation. Scarface who's driving the car gives you a perverted whistle without turning back and Bun-guy merely hums to himself, pretending to not have heard anything.

"T-Toji, that's impolite!" Yuta shouts at the scarface driver, turning red himself.

"It's not an uncommon thing with you. Aren't you creating quite a collection anyway?" The bun-guy butts in, leaving Yuta defenseless.

"Todo!" he yells at him too and slumps back into his seat, hiding his face. You study him. This was the champion race car driver an hour ago - and now he's a blushy, awkward, highly embarassing puddle.

"Collection, so you do this a lot huh?" You poke him.

"Absolutely not!" He sits up again. "Last night, I just…"

Now you're interested. Sounds like he broke a rule for you.

"Last night what?"

"Well, I just-"

"Oh my god, speak up, Okkotsu!" Toji screams from the wheel.

"Nevermind!" Yuta retorts and grabs your hands. "Are you coming to the after-party or not?"

"Well, I don't have a gown or anything…" You reply, looking down at your very non-party like clothing - a pin strip pant suit.

"Honestly…" He looks you dead in the eye. "You look so gorgeous, I don't want others to stare too much but if you want a dress, we can make a stop. I'll cover it, don't worry." He assures me, feeling a bit less awkward now.

For that compliment, he deserves to see a pretty dress on you and probably a flick to the forehead for making your heart race.

Todo seems to have a good eye for stores because the boutique he takes us to has a brilliant selection of clothes from classy to elegant to teasingly hot and even a corner for some sexy stuff.

You take some time to think and pick out a silvery satin cowl neck dress that compliments your cleavage and stops just a few inches shy of your womanhood. You also pair it will sparkly, strappy heels. You'll just have to make sure to walk properly to not expose anything… unless. When you walk out of the fitting room, you find Yuta waiting beside the billing counter, on his phone, matching your colors, in a light grey tux and black shirt-trouser set. He has combed his hair in a side part, looking rather sharp and you can smell his fresh cologne from a distance. He hears the clacking of your heels and looks up, his lips parting slightly at the sight.

For a moment when your eyes meet, everything stills, like the two of you are the only people in this room. The magnetic pull is something you have never experienced before, not even with Megumi, who you once thought was the love of your life. You walk over to him quickly, tucking your hair behind your ear and give him a twirl. "What do you think?"

"Might have to punch anyone who looks at you wrong tonight." He admits, sheepishly.

"W-What?" You mumble, looking away. Megumi could never. All he told you was to dress modestly so the men won't look. Never did he say he'd protect you. Maybe he never had the balls or talent to.

"Okay, you two get back in the car." Toji yawns at us, getting impatient or perhaps slightly weirded out by the clear tension between us.

The drive to one of Las Vegas' most affluent casino clubs was short and silent. You weren't really mentally prepared to see celebrities and big shots, partying away.

"This will be the best night of your life, I promise." Yuta assures you, intertwining his fingers with yours. You let him only because it calms your nerves. There are a few questions you need answers to though.

"Why are you doing this?" You ask and see Yuta's brow furrow.

"Are you uncomfortable or anything? You can't tell me-"

"It's not that... it's just..." you start. "It really doesn't make sense."

"I am not the most spectacular lay in the world." you admit. "I'm sure you have the world's most exquisite looking women dying to get time with you. I just don't see how being with me can benefit you."

You notice yourself putting yourself down and try to stop but your self-esteem is at an all-time low. That was one of the prime reasons you didn't want to meet up again with anyone you hooked up with during this trip. You wanted to leave feeling all parties involved had the best time of their lives and had no complaints.

Maybe lust got the better of Yuta and he'd come to his senses any minute.

"I think I liked the fact that you had no idea who I was..." He says and you raise your brows.

"I'm sorry I was unaware-"

"Nope, it's a good thing... I felt like I could just be the party loser, Yuta, for once... not a papped, scrutinized driver, Yuta. It felt oddly liberating." He admits.

"Plus, I-" He starts but swallows his words. "Do you remember what we talked about on the way to the hotel?"

You were not paying too much attention back then, being bowled over by the need to fuck someone, but... what did you say?

"Kids, we're here. Catch up later." Todo lets you two know, looking back. Before you could get off though, Yuta leans over.

"Are you going to tell me your name now or not?" He says. The shadows must be playing tricks on your eyes because in the dark, illuminated by paparazzi flashes you find your heart drumming inside your chest, unable to break eye contact.

"Y-Y/N. My name's Y/N." You say finally.

Yuta smiles wide at this and grabs one of your hands, opening the door to his flashy car and the light, noise and cheers hit you all at once.

He helps you get out suddenly, facing a sea of stunned yet curious people, you find yourself wanting to cry from embarrassment.

Oh no. no no no no no! What were they going to print about you now? What will you tell the managing director at your company about this PR scandal?

"Relax." Yuta holds your hand firmly. "I'll make sure only the news you want gets out." He reassures you, find your fingers again, locking them into his and you feel slightly better as you guys make our way to the inside, walking the red carpet.

The casino obviously is so maximalist, it hurts your eyes to say the least. There are people dressed in grandeur lining up at food tables, cigar tables and alcohol tables. There are some playing a few rounds of poker or gambling away at the machines. You are unable to focus on any one spot because all of it is so grandiose, you can't help but gawk at everything!

When people spot the two of you though, they quickly make their way over. Yuta is today's champion after all - this party is for him. They have a lot of good things to say to him - words of admiration, congratulations, words of passive aggressive envy but what all of them have in common is the looks of confusion or judgement they throw at you. One side-eye with a raised brow and they excuse themselves. Sure, no sparkly dress can make you look like one of them, but you had no idea 'big'-shots had the smallest sense of morals and social etiquette. Yuta introduces you as a 'good friend' to them and although it stings at first, this is a necessary step. It's what you would want and would cause the least amount of headache for the both of you. You aren't really friends or aren't really dating after all.

'One time Hookup-ers' isn't exactly a PR friendly term.

"Sorry about them. Most of them lack manners." Yuta says nervously but you reassure him that nothing they say can dent your self-image.

"No amount of looks they give me can change the fact that I'm not drowning in daddy's money, but my own." You smirk at him, leaving him impressed.

The two of you go through a few more people until you finally get to retire to a corner table of the giant ball room.

"How do you do this?" you ask, staring up at the magnificent chandelier crowning the hall.

"Well the boys never stay back for these kinds of things, we run off to different parts of the city to get wasted." He replies. "Just not before race night." You look at him with some mischief tingling behind your smile. He takes this chance to lean in closer and bump noses with you.

"And you thought I was inexperienced, didn't you?"

"So that's how you aren't a virgin...hmm, adventurous."

But Yuta shakes his head. "I've dated before. We ended things and I'm just beginning to explore my options now..."

"You must be spoilt for choice." You try to boost his ego, smiling wider as you feel his breath fan your face. Oh, how you could use a kiss right now. A kiss with everyone watching.

"I'm not spoilt for good choices." He says. "Having a choice doesn't always mean they're the best option for you." Damn, that's harsh. You cup his cheek in your hand and gaze into his dark blue eyes.

"And yet you gave me a chance-"

Before you can finish though, you hear a pair of boots slapping the ground while running in your direction.

"Okkotsu Yuta, you were supposed to give me the post-race comments. The media is waiting!" You hear a woman yell out as she approaches the two of you. She is dressed in a simple yet elegant navy-blue ensemble. Her eyes look disappointed, but her beautiful face, with its under-lip mole, maintains its poise. Yuta greets her with a sigh.

"I will, I will." He tells her. "Rika, let me off for today at least."

"No can do, Yuta." she shakes her head, getting her phone out.

"You can give me a few phrases and I'll piece together something coherent." she offers but Yuta doesn't want to hear it.

"Um, kind of in the middle of something?" He reminds her, circling his arm around your back.

The woman, Rika, gives you a pointed look. "You get one of those every other week. This is important business Yuta."

What does she mean those? You slightly free yourself from Yuta's embrace and look at him, confused. He looks as unaware as you are.

"Rika, you-"

"Yuta, you should stop toying with chicks. New one every few days. And when they want to get serious with you, I have to deal with all those calls and messages." Rika rants on and Yuta's eyes are getting wider by the minute.

For a second, you feel an empty pit in your stomach but before it can show on your face, you stand up.

"So that's how it is, huh?" you corner Yuta who looks aghast.

"Why am I even surprised?" you mutter, walking away from them. You remember Megumi's deadpan face as he walked out after you caught him and his mistress together. Yuta will be the same.

You reach for the balcony door to get some fresh air, but you feel your elbow being grabbed. It's Yuta. Huffing and very worried.

"W-wait, Y/N." He pleads.

You choose to keep your face neutral.

"It's fine. it's not like we were dating. Maybe, tell that woman to be mindful about her language though because the next time she addresses me as if I'm some object, I'll punch her." That threat, You are very serious about. This was a bad idea after all. You don't belong in the world of racecars, and parties and high-profile vips. You are happy with your computer and 3 cups of americanos, building prolific, useful software, from your cramped up office.

"Listen, Y/N... She was lying!" He tries to reason, and you take a look at him. You mentally give him thirty seconds to explain himself. He takes the cue and wastes no time.

"She's the one I dated. She has been my manager for a long time, and it has been some time since we split. I thought she had moved on since I saw her with another driver a while back but looks like she's still bitter." He explains frantically. But who he has dated isn't even your concern.

"I don't want to deal with fragments of your past, especially ex-flames, Yuta." you say bluntly. "I'm sorry, I have to leave now. Goodbye. Thanks for the evening."

You free yourself from Yuta's clutches, stifling a sob and heading towards the exit. You may have been seeing things, but you see a fluff of white follow you out from the corner of your eyes. It wasn't Yuta though.

Why did you care? It shouldn't matter.

No amount of love could bring people a universe apart, after all.

To be continued....READ PART 3 HERE!!

a/n: Okay there is practically no smut here but the plot needs some build up. Part 3 gonna be out soon and it's going to have a lot of smut, stay tuned guys!

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glimmerlofsea · 6 months ago

Note

Hey it's me again. I was wondering if you could do a billy hargrove imagin. The reader and Billy "hate" each other and end up having to share a bed. The rest is up to you.

Thank youuuu 🖤

HIII!!! your request is very interesting!! And I will put the song 'Shameless' as the vibe of this fanfic, thank you for requesting it and I hope this meets your expectations and you like it! And I apologize for the delay. 💚😕

Billy Hargrove x Reader

MASTERLIST

SPARK OF HATE

Warning : Just a few harsh words maybe? fluffy, and there's some making out session... BUT NOT TOOO MUCH ;D

WC; 3,4k

#TALKISSA; As in the request above! :d and relatedly, since I'm a perfectionist and detailed writer (which kinda sad) so the story is too long, sorry if it's boring :(, I really hope it's not. Thank you for requesting!

Such a relationship is very complicated to explain. He hates you, you hate him more. Well, he hates you for no apparent reason, but the reason you hate him? Just look at that sly, arrogant, disgusting smile every day in the school hallway, it makes you want to vomit every time.

Jessica, your friend always assures you that the spark of hatred is just wishful thinking to hide your feelings of mutual liking. You couldn't hold back your laughter when you heard that, you, like Billy? Pft, you'd rather die.

"Oh, come on, Y/N! You think we didn't see the tension that was there when you look at each other?" Jess complained while you were putting your textbook into your bag.

You ignored her, "Someone should give him some advice."

Jess chuckled, "You think he'll care about that little advice of yours?"

You slammed your locker, and turned your position 90 degrees towards Jess, "Are you on his side or me?"

Jess groaned, "God, not this again. Every time I hear this it's like choosing a side in war you know?"

You grinned and brought your face closer to Jess', "This is war, Jess. Get used to it."

"You're just annoyed because he took your Physics Queen's throne, right?"

You started walking down the hall followed by Jess, "That's the most important thing. He can't just come in and take my throne!"

"Oh, please, you're not the only one who is good at Physics." Jess' cigar, you look at her, she immediately closes her mouth tightly, afraid you will scold her, but no, you nod in agreement.

"Yeah. You're right, but that doesn't mean I can let a Billy fucking Hargrove take my title!" You whined as you tied your hair in a ponytail.

"I heard you mentioning my name, Princess."

You groaned, knowing who the voice was, when you wanted to turn around you felt your scrunchie slipping from your hair, making your hair flow freely and fly in the wind. Billy Hargrove took it,

"Give it back." You warn.

"Or what?" He replied with a grin.

Oh, this is what was meant when Jess said there was 'tension' between you two.

You still stared at him intently, he chuckled, "God, just admit you're attracted to me, Y/L/N, there's nothing to be ashamed about."

You took your scrunchie and started to put your hair back in a ponytail, “Go back to sleep and you'll see it happen, Hargrove.”

When you turned around, Jess was gone, sneaky girl, she left you because you saw her following Trevor, her crush from middle school. You laugh in disbelief,

"That girl," you whispered, annoyed.

For the past few days, your car has been confiscated by your parents. You caused trouble in Hawkins by accidentally crashing your car into one of the trees that was being felled. It costs a lot of money and you are not left to drive.

"Lost your ride?" Teasing Billy from behind,

You gave him your middle finger without looking at him and walked away. Today you had to walk a few more deserted blocks because you lost your ride.

It was sad how your relationship with Billy ended like that, because you had to see him every week because Max—his little sister hired you as her Physics tutor. It makes you happy to be able to show off your abilities in that subject when teaching Max at her house, which means Billy can clearly see this, even though he himself is very good at Physics, but Max doesn't believe him? What else could upset him?

The day you are going to tutor Max arrives, you immediately leave, 'walking' to get to her house, you knock on the door, expecting Max to immediately open the door but she doesn't. That's her shitty brother.

He flashed his usual grin, making you wrinkle your nose and groan, "Max's here?"

"Why are you looking after her anyway?"

"I'm her tutor, remember?" You flip your hair, "Since I'm the smartest in Physics. She trusts me enough for that."

Sometimes Billy feels that Max only hired you as her fake tutor to make him feel useless as a brother, but he doesn't care, she's quite a bother for Billy, and he's a little grateful that Max hired you as her tutor, apart from being able to see you often but Billy calmed down because that little piece of shit wouldn't bother him.

Billy chuckled at your words, he turned his head back a little but still locked his gaze on you, looking at you from top to bottom who was wearing a small skirt that reached your thighs and the rest was covered by knee length socks.

"Max, your little friend is here!" he shouted.

Hearing no answer made Billy look back completely, annoyed that he had to take his eyes off you, he left you to check on Max.

Soon after that the door opened completely, "Max isn't here." He said, he sounded panicked but tried not to show it to you.

You frowned, "What?" Max never goes to the Arcade without taking you, she usually takes you if she wanted you to show her around Hawkins, but not this time.

"You can go." Billy said as if he was being pushed by something.

You sighed, you knew Max wasn't your little sister and just your friend, but at least you showed concern, right? Nah, you are really worried. In addition, Billy's expression was frowning all the way down, unlike usual when he showed all his firm facial muscles.

"Do you want me... To, um— To help you look after her?" Your words are stuttering.

"That little shit is probably in the Arcade, I don't care."

Billy was about to close the door but you held him back and shook your head, “she's not, you know that, Billy. Don't hide your fears, I insist, I know where we'll go to find her.”

Billy had time to think about it.

You raised your eyebrows to reassure him, he rolled his eyes and opened the door wide, "Okay."

You guys use his blue Camaro car, you roll into the Arcade first, then drive to Lucas' house, one of the kids Max's age who has been friends with her recently, Max talks about him a lot, so you think maybe she's at Sinclair's house. But the results were nil.

The longer you look, the air gets colder in Hawkins. Billy gives you his jacket, even though you were already wearing a furry sweater with colorful patterns, but he still forces you to wear his jacket, you don't have a problem with that. It's just... Why suddenly?

"Fuck that bitch, I have a date, dammit." Billy said cursing Max but in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

Date? For some reason your ears heat up and your whole face heats up.

You cleared your throat and adjusted your sitting position to be comfortable, "Date?" You asked in a small voice.

"Yeah, with Penny, that girl has a nice ass. I could take her virginity right now if I didn't have to look for that load." Billy explain in the midst of his laughter.

You looked up at him and wrinkled your nose in an ugly way, “Gross, Hargrove.”

Billy chuckled and glanced at you briefly, "What? Wish that was you?"

You looked at him, your mouth wanted to say yes, yes to asking you out, but if you say that, you would be a cheap girl like the girl Billy had slept with several times in Hawkins. You don't want to be one of them.

"I'd rather eat Mrs. Hills' dessert." You said which made Billy chuckle, "That's the worst."

You smiled, "I know right? Jess once told me, she accidentally filled Mrs. Hills' dessert, she almost threw it up right then and there if Mrs. Hills didn't look at her. AH! And have you ever seen Mr. Pill who wears pants incorrectly? His panties keep showing when he walks down the hall!"

Girl, you talk a lot.

"And are you—"

Then you realize you are like a talking machine that can never stop talking. What's more, you talk a lot in front of people you should ignore because they are your enemies.

"-Sorry." You said looking back towards the street,

Billy smiled, you could even feel it without looking at him, there was no answer from him but you felt a hand land on your thigh, giving you goosebumps all over your body, he stroked it slowly,

"It's okay, go on. I love hearing your voice, Princess." His words made you look at him again, he locked them, looking alternately at you and the road, "If I'm being honest, it calmed me, even if it was a little loud to the ears."

You chuckled, “Now, keep your eyes on the road.”

"Yes ma'am."

Long story short, you go to the Wheeler house, Billy uses his charm to seduce the housewife, and he doesn't let you get out of the car to see the action. It irritates you, he thinks you're jealous, but you try to argued it, and it only ends up being him who keeps teasing you, making you just stay silent on the way to the Byers house. He continues to stroke your thigh, if your voice makes him calm, then his caressing your thigh makes you calm.

Oh, what is this? What is this feeling? You will continue to avoid it even though your heart cannot lie. Jess seemed right, the feeling was starting to rise in you. But it's just nonsense if it's only felt by you.

As soon as you arrived at the Byers house you watched a small fight between Steve Harrington and Billy, in between their fight you noticed Max peeking out of the window, she gave a signal for you to close your mouth. But it was too late, you already saw Steve lying there on the ground, and Billy have gone to the front door, you help Steve to stand up,

"You're Y/N, right? Why are you with that jerk?" Steve asked as he stood up, helped by you.

You shrugged your shoulders, "I don't know."

You heard a loud stomping from inside, making you run to the source of the sound leaving Steve there, you heard lots of screams from the kids there, including Max.

You walked over to Max, "Are you okay?"

Max nodded quickly, "Lucas, Y/N!"

You saw Billy grabbing Lucas roughly by the collar and cornering him into the kitchen cupboard, Steve was about to step forward but you held him back, "No harm."

Steve chuckled, "Yeah, but did you see he hurt the kid?"

Steve was about to pick up his pace again but you got ahead of him, grabbing Billy's shoulder, "Max's here, let's go."

"Let him go." You said, moving forward to stand next to Lucas,

Billy glanced at you briefly before looking at Lucas again, "This is the last time I see you with her, Sinclair."

Billy let go of Lucas roughly, you made sure Lucas was okay, "Are you okay?"

Lucas nodded.

You thought it was over, no more violence, but it wasn't, it was over quickly, Billy beating Steve mercilessly, Max screaming his name over and over, as did you too, "Hargrove!"

He didn't stop hitting Steve, making the jolt of his hand push you back and make your forehead scrape against the edge of the cupboard.

Max tackled his brother and inserted a syringe which made Billy fall on the floor.

You held your forehead and groaned, then saw Billy who didn't have enough strength or energy to stand up.

Max walked over to you, "I can't explain in more detail, but I have to go with them. In Billy's car. Mind if you look after him, Y/N?"

You looked at Billy then looked at Max again, you shook your head, "Not at all."

"Thank you."

With that, Max and his friends went to who knows where they were going, you helped them carry the battered Steve to the car, you felt guilty for the guy.

You went back inside and brought Billy's heavy body to rest on the edge of the couch, you used Byers' house phone to call Jess. Tell her to pick you up at the Byers residence.

You landed yourself next to Billy, saw that his head was still swinging, you saw that his shirt was still half-buttoned, you decided to button the shirt all the way, and put his jacket back on him. You took a clean towel from the one you took to clean the blood from his nose.

You felt a hand holding your hand, making you stop what you were doing before, with dim eyes, Billy opened his eyes.

Feeling the awkwardness of the eye contact you smiled slightly, "Um, hi?"

You didn't imagine his next move would be him leaning forward to kiss you, right on the lips. Oh, how you hated him, you should have pushed him away and slapped him for harassing you, but no, you kissed him back.

'The Kiss' started to heat up when Billy started to pull you to sit on his lap, but you didn't want this, you didn't want to. You just... Don't want to. You pulled back your face, while he seemed to feel unsatisfied,

"What—"

Billy stopped you by moving to your jawline, tracing it, “Don't talk. Hell, don't even try.”

He started tracing your neck, oh, this time your whole body was really hot, "It's been a secret for a long time that I really want you."

"Need you more than I want to." It's almost like a whisper in your ear.

The door opened with a bang, making you change your position to sit back on the floor, Billy chuckled,

“Shut up,” you told him.

Jess stood silently in front of the door, you really hoped she didn't see it.

"Hi." You said.

Jess immediately rushed over to you, "What the hell?! I thought you were in danger!" Seeing her reaction it seemed like you were quick enough to get away from Billy's lap.

You smiled and stood up, "Who said that? I told you I just needed to be picked up, and thank you for coming. I love you."

Jess rolled her eyes and looked down, seeing Billy who was still half conscious, "and what did you do with him?"

You widened your eyes, "It's a long story. Just take us back, please?"

Jess looked at you again, repeating it not at your face but your forehead, she grabbed your wound making you groan, "Did you do this, asshole?!" Jess asked Billy.

Billy blurted out, "Huh?"

You put a hand on Jess's shoulder, "No, I'm fine, just a little scratched."

You showed your sparkling sparkling eyes, "Can we just go?"

Jess narrowed her eyes, "Yeah, yeah, but Trevor is in the car, problem with that?"

"No! Absolutely not."

You grabbed Billy's hand to put around your neck, he was so heavy you couldn't lie, making Jess stand beside him to help you support him.

"I love it, like a double date, right?" Billy asked you, still rambling.

"Shut up."

"What did he say?" Jess asked, you kept your head steady, "Nothing! You heard wrong, Jess."

Jess kept looking at you, suspicious of you, but she felt like you would never be able to hide anything from her, so she looked away again.

Trevor and Jess were in the front seat, you felt bad for ruining their date, meanwhile Billy continued to cling onto you, not wanting to pull his head from your shoulder.

"I don't want to go home." He whispered which only you could hear since the music was playing in Jess's car.

"I'll be completely beaten by him if I come home without Maxine."

You know this. Max once told you that her stepfather was abusive to Billy, and Billy took it out on Max when he was in a bad mood, either scolding her loudly, or holding her hand tightly.

"We can sleep over at Jess' house if you want." You said.

Billy started to pull his head from your shoulder and looked at you, “Can we?”

You grinned, "Jess, can we stay at your house?"

Jess looked at you, "What is this? An impromptu sleepover?" Jess smiled, "YES, yes. You up, Hargrove?"

Billy just smiled fakely at Jess, Jess chuckled, "I told you there was some tension between—"

You glared at Jess, “Zip it.”

Not long after that, when you arrived at Jess' house, she and Trevor went on their next dating session. What kind of 'sleepover' would it be if she just left you like that?

You were wearing Jess' pajamas, looking at Billy who was asleep on Mr. Dunphy a.k.a Jess' beloved father, you decided to sleep in your best friend's room. That's a shame, because you'd love to talk about something unexpected at the Byers house.

If he could tell the truth, it was the most restful sleep Billy had ever experienced without the sound of his father cursing, without the repeated incidents of his father beating him, just the peace he had been longing for. But it didn't last long when he heard a loud bang on the wall from the direction of the room.

He woke up and groaned, took the golf club that was at the end of the wall in Jess' house and walked towards the room that had the source of the sound, not an animal, not the wind, and of surely not a ghost, but you.

You continued to bang your head gently against the wall, trying to walk, while rambling, "...I told you, there's no tension or whatever you said."

It looks like you are trying to talk to someone through your unconscious.

Billy put his golf club down and blocked the contact of your forehead with the wall, “You okay?” he asked. But he noticed your eyes were closed tightly, he had heard of this, sleepwalking or whatever the term was.

"Let's get you back to sleep, yeah?" Billy said then grabbed your hand to lead you back to the bed.

You were still rambling, "...I don't like him! What?" You whined, making Billy really confused, was this normal?

"I like him... A little. I hate to admit it."

Your words began to attract his attention, he landed you very carefully on the mattress and the blanket you used before to lock you inside again,

When Billy wanted to leave you, you woke up and pulled his hand so he fell beside you, you comforted your position on his chest, "I can't sleep without you,"

Billy didn't say anything, or precisely can't say anything.

"Jess." You continued, Billy thought you must still be half conscious because you thought he was your best friend.

It wasn't the way Billy expected to share a bed with you, but when you started wrapping your arms around his body he felt a feeling he had never felt. Comfort, and someone to say that everything will be okay. His mother had done that, but her words did not reflect what she did to Billy because she left him and did not try to take him back from his psychopath father. And in your arms? Different.

Billy was lost in his thoughts for a moment, but he started to close his eyes again and again and went back to sleep with you, holding you in his arms so that you also felt safe and definitely not sleepwalking again so as not to hurt yourself. He noticed the small wound on your forehead due to his carelessness, and he would make sure his emotions wouldn't hurt you again.

"I'll get my title back from him." You rambled again, Billy, who hadn't completely closed his eyes, just chuckled, knowing that you were talking about him.

Jess and Trevor have just returned from their long 'trip' which apparently took the whole day, Jess comes back and called your name, but there is no answer, making her walk towards your room and get—

"WHAT THE FUCK!" She shouted hysterically, Trevor, who heard his new girlfriend's screams, immediately ran into the room, "What's wrong?!"

It turns out that what Jess saw was you sleeping comfy in the crook of Billy's neck and Billy pressing his chin into your hair.

Billy groaned at Jess' loud scream, but you didn't move an inch, still lost in your beautiful dream. Billy noticed Jess and Trevor were both slamming their jaw together, he squeaked, "We didn't do anything, now shut it, she's still asleep."

Jess leaned closer to the bed, "Why not?! I noticed something sparking between you and definitely more than 'hating' each other." Jess shouted but in a whisper.

You snored, making Jess hide under the bed and pulling Trevor to hide with her, but you didn't wake up, just adjusted your position so you were comfortable.

Billy tap down on the side of the bed and slowly signaled to Jess and Trevor that it was safe, Jess and Trevor started to come back out and stand up as before.

"What did you mean by what you said earlier?" Billy asked Jess.

"Ask her out, dumbass. Don't argue, you like her, she likes you. Now go on a date so we can actually double-date." Jess said.

Trevor tossed the blanket that hiding Billy and yourself inside, “Good luck, man.”

As soon as Jess and Trevor were out, Billy smiled to himself like an idiot, you like him? Something he really couldn't have expected.

Not to mention that you are still clinging to him and don't want to let him go in your sleep, making him feel like he is your safest place, and he will continue to make sure that you are safe in his watch. Mark my words, he will definitely take you on a date. But what will your reaction be when you find out that you cling into him all the time? And share a bed with him? He couldn't wait to see and witness it.

Author Note : I'm sorry if there are some typos because I didn't have time to check it a few times since I was already feeling bad about being behind on this story for a week. I'm sorry, hope you like it! @patrickbatemanswife1987 (´✪ω✪`)♡

#spotify #fanfic #fanfiction #dacre montgomery #fluff #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #billy x reader #x reader #dacre montgomery x yn #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x reader #billy x you #billy hargrove x you #stranger things #max mayfield #steve harrington #lucas sinclair

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pubbamoon · 6 days ago

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02. BHARANI NAKSHATRA (13°20' ARIES - 26°40' ARIES)

Bharani nakshatra is the second nakshatra in Vedic astrology. It is completely located in the sign of Aries, representing creation and beginnings. Bharani nakshatra is being ruled by the planet Venus, which represents fertility, creativity and giving birth to new idea. The combination of Venus and Mars here makes this nakshatra about letting go of the past and starting something new. If you have Sun, Moon, Ascendant, chart ruler or Atmakaraka in this nakshatra, then we can say you have prominent Bharani nakshatra in your chart.

Bharani means She who bears and the main symbol of this nakshatra is a female organ vulva, representing pains, menstruation, giving the childbirth etc. This nakshatra relates to suffering, depression and struggling. Giving birth to new ideas is associated with Bharani nakshatra because giving the childbirth involves a lot of pain. There is also a sense of creativity and sexual energy here. This nakshatra is the Star of Restraint and the restraint is basically the synonym of limitations, control, moderation, formality etc. People with prominent Bharani nakshatra in their natal chart usually struggle in life, work very hard and they don't do any short cuts. Otherwise, they'll be punished. And here we are at the point of punishment!

The deity of Bharani nakshatra is Yama, the Hindu god of death, punishment and law. He values justice and social morality, judges the departed people/souls and takes them into the underworld. The another symbol of this nakshatra is a boat, representing the transition or transportation between life and death or even between past and future. Bharani nakshatra is related to endings, letting go of something it doesn't serve us anymore and moving into calmer waters, easier life. At the 20° of Aries in this nakshatra, there's a debilitation point of Saturn. Bharani nakshatra is about death, endings, but also about starting a new life, while Saturn relates only to death, darkness and endings. People who have prominent Bharani nakshatra work successfully as psychologists, doctors and lawyers since Yama, the deity of this nakshatra, is a god of law.

The yoni/animal of Bharani nakshatra is a male elephant, representing sexual energy, longevity and ancestral memory. Bharani nakshatra is about the ancestors too. The planet Sun is exalted in Aries and the Sun represents lineage. A lot of kids with this nakshatra in their chart usually follow the steps of their own ancestors, especially of their own father's steps. For example, you have the Sun in Bharani nakshatra, your father is a soccer player and you also become the soccer player in near future. The power of this nakshatra is the Power to renew, associating with starting over a new life.

Padas of Bharani nakshatra:

Pada 1 (13°20' - 16°40' Aries) - Leo

Pada 2 (16°40' - 20°00' Aries) - Virgo

Pada 3 (20°00' - 23°20' Aries) - Libra

Pada 4 (23°20' - 26°40' Aries) - Scorpio

For example, if you have the Moon in the 2nd pada of Bharani nakshatra in your birth chart (D1), you have the Moon in Virgo in your Navamsa (D9) chart. If you have Mars in the 3rd pada of Bharani nakshatra in your birth chart (D1), you have Mars in Libra in your Navamsa (D9) chart etc.

Celebrities with a prominent Bharani nakshatra in their chart:

Carl Jung - Bharani Moon

Cate Blanchett - Bharani Moon

Julia Fox - Bharani Moon

Lana Del Rey - Bharani chart ruler

Martin Luther King Jr. - Bharani Ascendant

Robert Pattinson - Bharani Ascendant

Mariah Carey - Bharani Ascendant

Katherine Hepburn - Bharani Sun

Megan Thee Stallion - Bharani Ascendant

Camila Cabello - Bharani Ascendant

George Clooney - Bharani Sun

David Beckham - Bharani Sun

Adele - Bharani Sun

Christina Aguilera - Bharani Moon

Jim Morrison - Bharani Moon

Best regards, Paky McGee

#astro community #astroblr #astrology tumblr #astrology #astro observations #astrology community #astro notes #vedic astrology #sidereal astrology #bharani

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updownlately · 1 year ago

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it’s gonna take me a minute (but i could get used to this)

| alessia russo x reader | fluff (fluffity fluff fluff) | 2.8k | inspo: used to this by camila cabello | a/n: first req! lets gooo! s/o to @awfcolivia for this one! this was really fun to write and i hope i did it justice! couldn't decide between fluff or fluff overdose so i just went with the latter :)

~~~

You weren’t a morning person. You really weren’t.

The idea of waking up early, to be cold, to be miserable, was frighteningly unappealing to you. Plus, the mere thought of having a to-do list pester you mentally before the rest of the world was awake was downright abusive in your opinion.

It’s why you had been a late riser all your life, why you had dreaded high school and why your one and only year at university solely consisted of afternoon and evening classes.

All in all, you really didn’t enjoy early mornings. Not until now at least.

Now? Now, you chose to wake up early, albeit more by force than by choice.

These days, your mornings dutifully started at 7am, an outrageous time protested not only by the old you, but your official cuddle buddy as well, yet it was something you chose to stick to.

Surprisingly, ever since you had signed your first pro contract in the NWSL, you had taken the initiative to take soccer even more seriously, if that was even possible. Altering your whole daily routine, diet, and especially sleep schedule, you had strived from your first official practice to be a better you, a better player.

Your transformation had been difficult for you, taking months to perfect and leaving a hole in your wallet from when you paid your teammates to help keep you in check, but it had been well worth it. The eventual betterment of yourself had not only helped you improve on the pitch, but it had led you to a starting spot in a top WSL team across the pond, playing high class football. An even better result of your efforts though, you thought, was the bed you got to share on the nightly with your own human teddy bear.

Said human teddy bear who was still tangled in the sheets beside you, sleep shirt half ridden up, face scrunched up adorably.

As you slowly gained consciousness, the cold waking you, you let your eyes wander over to your lover. The taller girl was sleeping soundly next to you, her golden locks disheveled, lower back on display as she faced away from you.

Your eyes traced the curves of her barely visible visage, following the slope of her jawline, appreciative of how it met so perfectly with the slope of her nape. You took note of how the crook of her neck looked so inviting, the one spot you knew drove her crazy tempting you, nearly begging to be kissed.

However, your admiration was soon cruelly interrupted, a gust of a chilly English breeze that you still hadn’t grown accustomed to making you shiver and hug the comforter a tad bit tighter whilst a few profanities silently slipped past your lips.

Accompanied by a grimace, you mentally cursed the weather, then yourself for not closing the window properly the night before as another blast of ice cold air came in, resulting in you further snuggling under the covers in search of warmth.

Taking a few measured deep breaths in, you reached for your phone, willing yourself to check the time. You knew for a fact your alarm for six forty-five hadn’t gone off, yet you prayed that maybe, just maybe, you had magically missed it, and it was in fact later in the morning.

Unfortunately, or fortunately for you, your memory served you correctly, the bright digits on your screen read a mere quarter past six, much earlier than you needed to be up.

Quietly groaning, you gently slammed your phone on the nightstand and contemplated between sleeping for the last whatever minutes you had left or getting your day started. In the end though, neither option won, your attention quickly getting stolen by the striker beside you who had just sleepily shuffled over onto her right side, inching closer to you and extending an arm out in search of your body, almost as if she could sense your displeasure.

You shook your head in amusement, your mood indubitably improving, leaving you smiling softly to yourself at the limb that was mindlessly shot out in your direction.

Reaching out, you intertwined your hand with your girlfriend’s, fingers caressing the ridges between her knuckles. Craning your neck down, you placed a gentle kiss on each of the joints convincing yourself that maybe this early morning wouldn’t be so bad after all if it got you your fill of your Lessi cuddles.

Making your decision then and there, you dropped your interlaced hands down to your chest once more before delicately tugging Alessia’s arm in a wordless invite, knowing she was just barely awake enough to understand.

Shifting your body in order to comfortably catch the oncoming ‘Lessi-bear flop’ as you infamously called it, you screwed one eye shut, anticipating the force that you knew was undisputedly headed your way.

Within seconds of you opening your arms to the slightly conscious striker you could feel the whole mattress shift as a tired Alessia comprehended your tug and body movement, putting two and two together to comply with your silent request, much to her enjoyment.

Even in her fatigue, she managed to lazily pick up her body, balancing in almost a plank position for a split second before pushing off her hands and pivoting at her knees, letting herself fall onto you with a loud thump.

And even though you had braced yourself for the impact, it still managed to knock the wind out of you, leaving you slightly wheezing, adjusting to the weight of the 5’9” striker now near-completely resting on your body.

“Good morning to you too love,” you chuckled softly, your breath evening out slowly.

In lieu of her raspy morning voice however, you instead were met with a gentle grunt, the blonde clearly not awake enough to be holding conversation, not that she wanted to be.

In fact, if Alessia had it her way, you both would be staying in bed till at least nine, if not ten, especially on days like this where you had no training or events to get to. She knew that you weren’t a late riser anymore and she wouldn’t tell you this, but if she had it her way, if she could, she’d hold you hostage each morning, wrapping you in her arms, forcing you to stay if it meant she’d get to spend a little more time with you.

It was the way you’d softly wake her up on the rare mornings where hers and your alarm would align, tiresome trainings causing you to skip the early morning run. The tender kisses you’d press to her face, quiet cuddles being shared, seeking out warmth before the coolness around you would cause shivers down both your spines. The way you’d whisper her name, calling out to wake her up. How her name never sounded sweeter than when you’d say it after you’d kiss her a final time, a promise of more unsaid but communicated thoroughly as you’d pull her out of the shared bed, leading her to the bathroom.

Regardless of how much she yearned for those calm mornings on the daily, she let you be, for your sake if anything.

She knew that your career was important to you, as much, if not more than hers was to her, so she understood. Thus, each morning that you opted rather to go on a run and leave her alone, cold, with nobody to cuddle with, something she would tease you about whenever given the opportunity, she never minded. She would be more than happy to let you spend the next few years waking early so that the pair of you could spend the rest of your lives waking up late, a promise of forever in each morning that she woke up to an empty bed.

It’s why when you let Alessia cuddle you as she was now, her whole body on top of your smaller frame, her head tucked in the crook of your neck, legs intertwined, an arm wrapped around your midriff, she drowsily basked in the moment, knowing it was few and far between.

“Sleep. Stay…sleep,” she mumbled, tightening her hold on you, slowly succumbing to the sleep that plagued her, hoping she could enjoy this moment for as long as possible.

You hummed in response, choosing not to outwardly say anything, running your finger over her tattoo, aware that you’d have to leave your koala of a girlfriend in a little bit to go start your day.

Deciding to indulge for a short while however, you chose to instead stop your mindless tracing and reach your hands up, one coming to graze the blonde’s back, the other running through her messy locks, gently working their way through the tangles and scratching her scalp, a tried and true method you know would calm your girl.

Faithful to the past, you could hear the blonde sigh at your ministrations, sinking imperceptibly further into your hold, her grip just slightly loosening up as sleep overtook her once again.

You didn’t doubt that when it came time for you to get up that it would be a battle, if not war, especially now that the forward had you in her favourite cuddling position. And you weren’t wrong.

As the clock struck closer to seven, you mentally prepared yourself to extract yourself from the endearing girl wrapped in your arms.

Taking one look down at where she lay, not having moved an inch from where she fell asleep a short while ago, you couldn’t help but place a gentle kiss on the top of her head, letting your lips linger, not wanting the serene moment to end even though it had to.

However, when you shifted slightly while trying to angle your torso in order to somewhat slide the Englishwoman off of you, you realised your misjudgement. You should’ve known better. It wasn’t going to be that easy. Not with the stubborn blonde that you called yours.

“No…stay,” a whine rumbling against your neck, the arm holding your waist quickly tightening.

“Less, my angel, I need to get up,” you whispered, heart melting at her display of adorableness.

“No you don’t. It's a day off. Day offs are for rest.”

“Lessi, baby I-“

“No. Stay. Please.”

You willed yourself to not look down at Alessia's pleading, already feeling a pout on her lips from where she was nestled against you.

Eyes cast upward, the ceiling currently your best friend, you tried to reason again.

“My beautiful snuggle monster. Less, my love, my angel, the love of my life, my pretty girl, I need to go on my run. Please let me go? I promise I'll make it up to you later.”

You knew that if you stayed in bed any minute longer, you wouldn’t be making it out until much much later, something, it appeared, that your girlfriend was also aware of.

“Five more minutes…”

“Love, we both know it’s not going to be just five…”

“Then stay. One day of rest won’t kill you…” This time, Alessia lifted her head from where it was resting, calloused fingers lovingly grasping your cheek, pulling your gaze down, drawing your attention to her. Letting her aquamarine eyes meet yours, she tried one more time.

“Please? I want you here. I want you to stay,” The whisper of words, accompanied by the return of her pout, this time in full force, to her sleep-dazed face hit you hard. The Englishwoman looked absolutely precious if you had to say yourself, truly testing your willpower, and you knew for a fact that it would be something that she'd win against.

“You’re a bad influence aren’t you Ms. Russo,” you sighed, a smile fighting its way onto your face as you give up, knowing you weren’t going to emerge victorious from this one, especially not when you couldn’t even move. Alessia had held you captive in more ways than one, unaware of the grasp that she had on your heart.

Doing a little shimmy to celebrate her success, something that resembled more of a struggling worm due to her laying down on top of you, the blue-eyed girl let a drowsy smile appear on her face at your statement, paving the way for you to mirror her with a matching grin adorning your own.

“Y’know you’re lucky you’re so cute? Can’t do anything when I got you in my arms I swear,” you jest, faux exasperation lining your tone.

Lowering herself once more, Alessia positioned herself on top of you, settling into the space between your legs, her torso completely engulfing yours, blonde head comfortably tucked under your neck.

As you let your arms circle her waist, wrapping around her once more, pulling her impossibly closer to you, Alessia continued to smile in triumph.

“They say bad girls are attractive don’t they?”

You let out a quiet chuckle, shaking your head fondly. “Well you have the attractive part down already, I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” you tease, cheeks beginning to hurt from how much you were smiling.

“Alright flirt…calm down now,” the words being accompanied by a gentle smack to your bicep, followed by a yawn. Dear god the duality of this woman was going to kill you.

“Hey...you started it. Anyways, I think you at least owe me a kiss now,” it was your turn to pout, the ghost of a smirk playing on your lips. “If I kiss you, you have to stay in bed till I'm ready to get up.”

“That's quite an offer. let me think about this…” you smiled, the both of you aware you were just messing with her.

The striker moved onto her arms, trapping you between the mattress and herself, lips inches apart from yours, her forelimbs acting as a cage. Leaning in, you could feel her breath fan across your lips. “How about a few kisses?”

“Hmm. I don't know…”

“Baby…” She dragged out the word, causing you to nearly break your facade.

“You drive a hard bargain but you got yourself a deal pretty girl.”

This time when Alessia pressed close, you gladly accepted her warmth, reaching up and pulling her in to yourself, soft kisses being traded between the pair of you. You let the faint scent of her perfume envelop you in a tender bubble, her body providing you comfort, the familiar arms and lips nudging you to rest, to relax.

When Alessia eventually gingerly pulled away, air becoming a necessity, you made sure to take a note of her eyes, the calming orbs laced adorably with sheer drowsiness.

Wanting to make sure that regardless of your early morning shenanigans, that your love still got her rest, you quickly laid a loving kiss to her forehead and ushered the forward to get comfortable once again, your hands working to cover your entangled limbs with the comforter once more.

You began to run your fingers through her hair once again, the other hand finding purchase splayed across her back, faintly rubbing the expanse of skin underneath her sleep shirt.

Feeling her heartbeat slowly even out, you whispered out a quick admission of your love, hoping that even in her drowsy state she would be able to feel the never-ending love you held for her.

“I love you so so so much Less. Don't you ever forget it."

The way Alessia hugged your t-shirt just a little tighter, hands coming to fist the sides, pulling you closer, you knew she understood.

And when you’d wake up again a few hours later, inevitably before Alessia, you’d let yourself smile, amazed at how what once was you fighting demons to wake yourself up early turned into you begging the universe to dedicate you a few more hours of morning light, a few more hours of soft times, of murmured confessions of love and sweet kisses with the indisputable love of your life.

Finally allowing yourself to relax for the time being however, you loosened your muscles and let your thoughts run free, mind imagining the future of your dreams with the angel in your arms.

You could vividly picture a series of perfect mornings, a handful of years down the line where the pair of you would stay wrapped up in each other’s arms, in each other’s love long after the sun has risen. Gentle mornings where cuddles would be a must, after which the pair of you would start your days slowly, never too far apart, never too rushed, nowhere to be but bathing in the glowing warmth of your love.

You knew it would happen all in due time. You knew that it was your stubbornness of the sport that withheld those flawless mornings from you. But you also knew that it would be worth it in the end. That those perfect mornings would eventually come, that the love between you two would extend far beyond your love for football ever would.

One day at a time, a couple hundred more mornings to go, then your love would be all yours, and you hers. You’d just have to patiently wait to achieve it.

It would take you a minute but you’d eventually get used to it.

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #fluff #x reader #reader insert #my writing #fic #igtmam #fic req

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ray-ray-writings · 5 months ago

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My Cinderella AU with Schlatt

Welp... Who would have thought that Schlatt would be the one out of all of the MCYTs to NOT be outed as an abuser....

Anywho, I watched the Cinderella movie with Camila Cabello and instantly wanted to write an AU of my own of Cinderella but I didn't want to put in the work to create my own new characters and establish them and all of that fun stuff. So I did what I do best, toss already established characters into a storyline. What a weird piece of work to post on my blog after several years...

But here you go, 16.3k words of a Cinderella AU with reader as Cinderella and Schlatt as Prince Charming. If you read, I appreciate you. Consider leaving a like, comment, and/or reblog and tell me whatcha liked about it. No pressure tho <3.

Summary: A Cinderella AU in which reader is a baker and Schlatt is a Prince. the two meet in a market square where the reader in turns insults Schlatt to his face without realizing who they're talking to and the story of the relationship that then ensues.

Pairing: JSchlatt x Gender Neutral!Reader (I tried to keep in gender neutral but I may have slipped here and there, if you notice any parts that happens let me know and I'll fix it!

Mostly fluff with a touch of angst

Content Warnings: all warnings that typically come with cinderella: ie dead parents, shitty step family, reader being told she doesn't deserve good things, the word papi... like twice... you'll see. The use of "Jonathon" being Schlatt's "real" first name, Swearing, second person POV, when the text is in italics it's as if it's following Schlatt in third POV, i hope that makes sense, shitty writing at the end because I still haven't figured out how to end stories uwu.

Please let me know if I missed anything.

Once Upon a Time,

You lived with your stepmother and two stepsisters. Your mother died when you were young. She died after being thrown from a horse, hitting her head off the ground, and never waking up.

Your father had remarried within a year, but had swore to never love again. He married simply because he knew he was sick and didn’t want to die and leave you alone if he were to die when you were a minor. Sure enough, he passed when you were 15.

One thing your parents had gifted you before their passing is your love for baking. You could bake like nobody’s business. You had tried to get a job at the bakery when you had come of age but the baker didn’t appreciate your helpful tips on what to improve on and what would make his baked goods taste better. So you just bake and hang out in the square, selling to those that know you and know of your business.

You did your best to spend most of your time out of your home as your stepfamily was not kind to you. They teased and taunted you and made your life hell. You would have left the moment you were of age, but you had nowhere else to go. This was your family’s home, you didn’t make enough money baking on the side to justify moving out. So you were just waiting to meet someone who would sweep you off your feet and carry you away from here.

It’s not ideal, but that is the way that life is.

Across the land, Prince Schlatt was born and raised in the castle. He was waited on hand foot, life served to him on a silver platter. But the boy grew to a man with a kind heart, even if it tended to hide behind sarcasm and taunts. His father, King Philza, had done his best to teach Schlatt how to be a great ruler while his mother, Queen Kristen, had done her best to teach him how to be a loving man.

Schlatt loves his parents, but sometimes wanted to be his own man without his parent’s hovering over his shoulder telling him who to be. To be who he wanted to be, without the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders.

King Philza has been harping on him for rejecting so many marriage proposals, lecturing him on how important it was for him to find a suitable match before his coronation so that everything was in order before it was time for him to take over the throne.

Schlatt has always given the same response, “I don’t to marry just anyone. I want to marry for love, father, just like you.”

Philza would roll his eyes but say nothing more on the subject until the next day. Kristen was always proud of the way her son would respond, but never interrupted the two. The supportive smile she always sent Schlatt as he left was incredibly telling though.

One of the only good things about your stepfamily was that they stayed out of the kitchen. Your stepmother learned quickly about how well you could cook and bake from how you always made meals for your father that she never felt the need to cook herself. Instead, she found it easier to boss you around and force you to cook for her and her daughters.

You found you didn’t mind it though, the kitchen was your happy place. It was one of the only spaces where you knew that you wouldn’t be bothered, that for a moment while you rolled out dough or poured some batter you could pretend like everything in your life was perfect.

You needed more ingredients. For baking and for dinners. You had left the house with the small amount of money that your stepmother had given you and made your way to the market square. In your basket, a number of sweet treats to sell for your pocket cash to your normal customers after you run your errands.

The sun feels nice on your face. You’re used to heat pressing into the as you stand over a hot stove or an open oven, so the sunlight shining on you makes you feel slightly at home. Comfortable even. Maybe a bit too comfortable and unaware of your surroundings because it’s not too long while you’re lost in thought before you slam into someone. The basket flies out of your hand and tumbles to the ground, several of the treats falling to the ground.

You let out a gasp as you fall onto your butt on the ground. The man you have bumped into lets out a quiet “oh shit,” before reaching down and picking up some of the treats that have fallen out.

“Sorry about that,” he murmurs, reaching out a hand for you to take. You carefully take his hand, allowing your eyes to scan the stranger. The first thing that you notice is his eyes. They’re fucking beautiful. The pools of dark chestnut brown bore into yours so deeply it momentarily takes your breath away. You’re able to see the way they fill with concern all the while they flick down and examine you, if you were of more a mind, you would blush.

The next thing you notice is the mask that covers the lower half of his face. You stop your brows from furrowing at the sight. You continue to observe him. You note the way that his brown hair is pulled back, which is what allowed you to see his eyes so strikingly before. His clothes are a bit on the fancier side of those that come to the market. He’s strong too, you can tell by the way he pulls you up from the ground with no real effort exerted. His hands are on the softer side. He feels familiar but you can’t place where you know him.

Oh fuck. You’re the prettiest person Schaltt has ever seen. He’s been introduced to countless nobles, never ending royalty, long lines of commoners, but none of them could compare to how absolutely stunning you look right now. And he’s just made a huge ass full of himself by running into you and sending some of your baked goods AND you flying to the ground. At least he was smart enough to wear a mask to hide his face and therefore his identity. He knows his facial hair is incredibly recognizable. Even if he wasn’t presenting as the crowned prince, he better make this right.

“It’s alright,” you respond once you’ve shaken yourself out of your stupor, reaching for your basket. He quickly hands it back to you. You do a quick inventory and note that about a third of your stock had fallen to the ground. “Great, just great,” you murmur quietly to yourself.

“Again, I’m so sorry about that… let me replace what you’ve lost. Allow me to walk you to the bakery so you can buy more.” The stranger says, motioning toward the bakery, his eyes never leaving yours.

The laugh you let out causes the man’s shoulders to deflate, causing you to clear your throat and instantly start explaining. “No, no, sorry. I’m not laughing at you. Rather laughing at the thought of me buying anything from that fucking guy.”

His brows furrow as he looks at the pastries. “You didn’t get them from the baker? Where did you get them from then?”

“I made them myself.” You answer simply, giving a small shrug. “The baker didn’t want to hire me and so I bake them at my house and sell them on the square to a few people.”

His brows hit the top of his forehead. “Oh shit, really? I guess I just made you lose income then, huh? Let me pay for them then.”

“Oh, no really it’s okay. It was an accident. Don’t worry about it.”

“No really. I insist. Please. It’s the least I can do.” He states before digging into his pockets and pulling out 5 gold pieces and pressing them into your hand.

You stare at the gold in shock. “Sir, I can’t accept this. I only charge 2 copper for one cookie. This is far too much, please take it back.”

Schaltt panics. It’s been forever since he’s had an economics class and he isn’t sure how much money is a lot of money to common folk. He realizes 5 gold is probably a bit too much, especially after you tell him of what you usually charge. It’s too late to back out now.

“Nah,” he answers. “I guess it just means you have to give me the rest that’s in the basket.”

Without hesitation, you hold the basket out for him to take. He’s surprised by your quick movement but carefully takes the basket from your hands. He grabs the cloth that covers the basket gently and carefully pulls it back, revealing a plethora of baked goods, the sight makes his mouth water. “Woah, these look professionally made.”

You let out a huff and puff out your chest a bit more. “Well I am a professional. And they would look better, but someone caused the basket to hit the ground.”

His laugh may be the most beautiful thing you have ever heard. It makes your heart flutter and you have to will the heat to not flood your cheeks. “I apologized for that already,” He teases.

“Yeah well, it still happened didn’t it,” you shoot back.

He laughs again, which surprises you. Most people would have called you rude by now and left you to stand here alone. But not this strange stranger. You don’t mind his presence though. “You’re funny…” He trails off

You realize he’s waiting for your name and you supply it to him. He echos it back, stating it slowly as if to savor every syllable, to test how it feels on his tongue and his teeth before he hums. “I’m charmed to meet your acquaintance,” He states, reaching out grabbing your hand, bending at the waist, and pressing the back of your hand to his masked lips. It takes everything in you to will the blood to NOT rush to your cheeks.

He drops your hand before straightening up. “Now if you don’t mind, I will be trying one of these delectable looking desserts.”

He reaches into the basket and pulls out a chocolate chocolate-chip cookie. “Oh fuck yes. These are my fucking favorite.”

You can’t stop the grin and giggle that escapes you.

The stranger turns from you and for a moment your heart falls and your stomach turns as you think that he’s walking away from you. But you’re able to see his hand move up to the lower half of his face and you realize he’s pulling his mask down in order to eat. You quickly look away to give the man his privacy. You may be curious as to what he looks like, but you value respecting his choices above all else.

Holy fuck it’s one of the tastiest things he’s ever eaten. His eyes close as he groans at the taste that fills his mouth. He’s glad he had the sense to turn around and his face and expression from you. He couldn’t imagine how embarrassing he looks right now.

You hear him let out a groan of approval and you can only assume that something has hit his tongue. “This is delicious.” Your assumptions are confirmed as his voice comes out muffled from the food in his mouth.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” you chide, looking at the bustling people of the market stalls.

Schlatt chuckles, pulling the mask back up and turning back to face you. He’s stunned for a moment to not meet your eyes. Realizing why you’re angled and looking the way that you are. His own heart skips a beat before he clears his throat. He takes a moment to chew and swallow before softly letting you know you’re good to look.

You’re slightly disappointed to find the mask still in its place but you understand the want for privacy perhaps more than most. “So it was good then?” You ask.

He nods enthusiastically. “It was fucking amazing. I can’t wait to get back to the castle and try the rest of them.” He says, realizing a moment too late his slip.

Your brows hit the top of your forehead, “The castle? Do you live in the castle?” You can’t stop the question that falls from your lips.

“Yeah, I’m a guard. I live in the castle, and I’m a guard. Today’s my day off.” He explains. His words are rushed, but who are you to question a man you just met.

You give a couple nods, “I see,” you state simply, “That makes sense.”

Internally Schlatt lets out a loud breath of relief that you bought the lie. The castle has been his home his entire life and he wasn’t thinking when he spoke so he’s glad you easily bought his excuse of being a guard.

“It makes sense considering you just handed me 5 gold like it’s not more than I will make in two months and King Philza makes sure that the guards get paid an excellent salary… not that he makes sure the rest of the citizens get paid the same. But that’s neither here nor there.” You huff.

The stranger’s brows lift. “What do you mean by that?”

Your face burns as you catch what you just admitted. “Oh nothing.” You rush. “Sorry you probably are more than happy with the decisions the king makes. Not to imply anything. Sorry.”

“No, no it’s alright. I want to hear it.”

And want to hear it, he does. No one has the guts to speak so plainly to him when they’re around him. So he wants to hear it. The good, the bad and the ugly.

You clear your throat and square your shoulders. “Well if you insist. Often it feels like the king, the whole royal family really, doesn’t care about those that do not live in the castle. I can’t get a job because no one can afford to hire anyone because everyone is just barely scraping by. It’s like he can’t see past his own front lawn. Which sucks because everyone talks about what a great guy he is, but sometimes I don’t think he’s a very good king.”

Schlatt hums in acknowledgement. You bring up some really good points. He also sometimes feels like his father forgets he’s supposed to be ruling for the people and isn’t supposed to be ruling his son’s life… speaking of. “Well I’m sure you can’t wait for his son to take over the throne then? Schlatt?” He is instantly startled by the loud laughter that bubbles from your throat.

“Schlatt? That big, petty, man-baby? Yeah. Sure. I’m excited to see how that big man-baby decides to rule the kingdom. You know, I heard that he grew those mutton chops to make himself more unattractive to potential suitors. I think he didn’t realize how fucking good he looks with them. At least from what I’ve seen from a distance. I think he makes them work, and I’m definitely not the only one in the kingdom that agrees. I think he just needs to bite the bullet and just… I don’t know. Do it.”

Schlatt once again thanks his past self profusely for the idea of wearing a mask to hide his face because he can feel the way his cheeks heat up to what he is sure is a bright red. You’re not particularly wrong. That was the original thought. To make himself look unkempt and not put together in an attempt to drive away potential suitors but he grew to like how they looked and grew fond of the hair.

“I don’t think he should just bite the bullet and marry the first person that asks for his hand” he defends, “I think he wants to marry for love. Not for some political alliance. I think that’s admirable.”

“Oh I agree. My apologies. That’s not what I meant. I meant he needs to bite the bullet and be fucking honest with the kingdom. The news that we get from the castle is that he’s the one that’s been rejected. That he wants to find the perfect alliance. That he wants what’s best for the kingdom. And while I agree that maybe he does, he needs to be fucking honest with us and tell us the truth. That he’s looking for love. Not what would ‘be best for the kingdom.’ We don’t mind that’s what’s happening, it’s the fact we’re being lied to, ya know?”

“Huh, so that’s the news that is coming out of the castle… I’ll have to talk to someone about that.”

Your breath catches slightly. “Shit. Sorry. I don’t want to get either of us in trouble. Forget me and my words. I know not of what I speak.”

“No, sweets. You have valid points. They deserve to be heard. I won’t mention your name if you wish. But I will make them hear me. I’m actually rather close with the prince.” He can’t help but internally snicker to himself. Closer than you know.

The blood drains from your face. “Of course you are. Of course I complain about the prince to someone that has direct connection with him… fuck. Okay. Cool. Good to know. Well… I have to go. I have to get my ingredients still and I must be home before stepmother gets there. It was a pleasure meeting you.” You state quickly before attempting to rush past him.

You're stopped by his hand grasping your shoulder gently, causing you to turn around to face him. “Will I ever see you again?”

The way he asks is so soft and gentle. It causes your heart to pound loudly and the breath to pause in your throat. “Maybe,” you breathe out.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment more before it hits you. “I have a carrier pigeon. I’ll send it with a letter to the castle and we can talk like that. Maybe sometime we can meet again. Maybe on one of your days off.”

The man’s beautiful brown eyes light up with delight. “That would be amazing. I look forward to hearing from you.” He allows his hand to trail from your shoulder, down your arm, to your hand, and he lifts the hand to his lips before placing a kiss to it. He gives you a soft wink as he drops your hand. You turn away as you blush, willing yourself to calm down.

“Oh!” You startle, “I forgot to ask your name-“ the words die on your lips to find the spot next to you vacated with the tall stranger nowhere in sight. “Great. Just great… well. I better get going. Those cookies won’t bake themselves.”

Schlatt has never felt so giddy. He can’t wait to hear from you. He also realizes he never gave you a name, he’ll just have to keep his eye out for a new and unfamiliar carrier pigeon.

You debate with yourself when you get home what the proper waiting time is for sending a stranger a letter with the pigeon. Because you wrote one as soon as you got home and it was ready to send within two hours of meeting him. Sending one that quickly may spook him. It could cause him to think you’re weird.

You decide you’ll wait a couple hours, bake cookies and make dinner and then when your stepmother allows you to retire to your room, that is when you’ll send it. And so that is what you do. You check over the letter a thousand times before you tuck it into the envelope and hand it to your carrier pigeon. “To the castle pigeon, look for a man with brown hair and brown eyes… well that’s specific huh?... I really should have gotten his name. Okay… well… I guess we will half to wing it.” You scribble down something on the envelope and hand it to the pigeon who takes it with its foot and flies off to the castle.

Schlatt is taking a stroll in the gardens, kicking himself for not asking for a better way to contact you. He hadn’t heard anything from you and at this point he’s worrying he never will. He’s spent most of his time analyzing the conversation over and over again in his head and realized that he probably came off too strong and too weird and he will be lucky to ever see you again.

He jumps as a pigeon lands on his shoulder,to his head snapping to the side to meet the wide, vacant eye of the bird. It gives a soft coo before shaking and moving its foot, drawing attention to the letter in its grasp. His heart leaps to his throat in hope before he swallows and carefully takes it.

He grins at the writing on the front of the envelope. “Sir Charmed, lover of chocolate chip cookies.” Instantly all his worries melt away as he plucks the letter from its hiding and he reads the words. Once. Twice. A Hundred times. Schlatt rushes inside to carefully compose his response.

You don’t go a day without hearing from each other for the next couple of weeks. You exchange letters. You tell him about your life and how you got your love of baking, and your want of leaving the house. He tells you the pressures of his job and how sometimes he just wants to run away from it all and explore the world. You make him promise that if he does, he’ll take you with him. He promises.

You forget to get his name and at this point you’re too embarrassed to ask him for it, instead electing to call him a bunch of nicknames, mainly being Sir Charming, hoping he never catches on. He never seems to.

The two of you agree to meet up once more, somewhere a little more quiet than the market square, but still public (because you have to be proper.) You’re sure to wear the cutest outfit you can manage to put together and bake the best batches of cookies you’ve ever baked.

“Where are you going?” Ted asks with his brow raised, watching Schlatt with his arms crossed as Schlatt sneaks through the castle halls.

Schlatt freezes and slowly turns. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sureeeee,” Ted draws, not convinced at all. “You’re just creeping through the halls in one of your best outfits going… nowhere.”

Schlatt sighs, not being able to hide from his best friend. “I’m going to meet them.”

Ted raises an eyebrow. “Them? The one you’ve been writing all those letters to? Are you sure that’s a good idea”

“I know that it is. Please. Cover for me?”

Ted sighs but can’t deny Schlatt has been happier in the past couple weeks than he has been for the past couple months. “Okay fine. But you’d better bring me back one of those sugar cookies.”

Schlatt gives Ted a toothy grin. “We’ll see.”

You give him a shy smile as he appears. “Hey, you,” you greet standing, wiping your hands on your pants.

“Hey sweets,” he greets back, his voice muffled through the mask still adorned on his face. You didn’t mind too much. He explained that it made him more comfortable, especially because in his work he has to wear something to cover his face under the helmet, it’s just easier for him to wear it. As much as you want to see his entire face, you were willing to respect his choices.

“How are you?”

“Can’t complain, especially now that I get to see your beauty standing before me.”

You can’t stop the blush that floods your cheeks. “Oh hush. Here. I’ve made you something special.” You tell him, turning and grabbing the special baked good that you made him. “It’s a chocolate chocolate-chip brookie. Or a double chocolate chip cookie baked inside a brownie. I remember you said that you loved brownies and cookies and sometimes can’t choose which to have so I made you both… well two in one.”

You raise your hand with one of the treats toward him, facing the basket still, still trying to will down the blush on your cheeks.

“Well, don’t mind if I do,” you have to hold in the jump as you feel his soft breath against your hand. You will yourself to stay in place as his lips brush against your outstretched fingers as he gently takes a bite out of the treat in your hand. A loud groan escapes him, similar to the one you heard the day the two of you met. “Okay, I take back everything I’ve said… This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

All of your hard work is ruined as the blood rushes back to your cheeks into a blush. “What have I told you about talking with your mouth full?” You deflect

The treat is removed from your hand, his fingers brushing against your palm. “My apologies, your highness.” His words are even more mumbled, telling you he shoved the brookie all the way into his mouth.

You scoff. “Careful now, you’ll get me hung for treason with that nickname.”

His laugh garbled out around the baked good. “Surely the king isn’t that cruel.” His hand rests on your shoulder and turns you to face him, the mask sitting on his face once again.

You laugh back and shrug, “I don’t know. I’ve never met the man.”

“Well I have. So I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

“Is that so?... I guess I’ll just have to trust you then.”

You stare into his brilliant and beautiful eyes for a while longer before he moves, clearing his throat and gesturing forward, “Shall we then?”

“I am getting sick of these games you’re playing, Jonathan.” King Philza booms loudly.

Schlatt rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I’m not playing games with you father, I’ve told you. I want to marry for-”

“For love. I understand. But how can you marry for love when you push away every single option I give you. You haven’t given yourself a chance to fall in love with anyone I have brought before you and I am growing tired of it. If you do not pick someone within the next month, I will be choosing someone for you. End of story. Am I understood?”

Schlatt internally panics. He knew this day was coming. He knew he was pushing his father too far. He had held out for too long. His stomach drops… There’s only one person he could see himself marrying at this point…

Assuming he had been understood, Philza turns to walk out the door. “Let’s throw a ball,” the words tumble from Schlatt’s lips.

Phil turns back around with an eyebrow raised. “A ball?”

“You want me to marry quickly. I want to marry for love. So what better way than to throw a ball, invite everyone in the kingdom, emphasizing the invitations for single people, and then I’ll be able to talk and dance with people all night. And I swear to you, if we throw this ball I will find a betrothed by the end of the month.”

Phil is silent for a while. Tossing the words over in his head for a moment before giving a single nod. “So be it.” He then turns and exits the room.

Schlatt lets out a harsh breath. Well that was easier than expected. Now to convince you to come to a ball.

It takes less convincing than one might think.

You get a letter from your Sir Charming, who tells you there will be a ball and that he wants you to come as his guest. He tells you that you’d be able to bring some of your baked goods to give out to nobles to promote your baking, plus you’d be able to see him. You hate to admit how much the latter of the two sold you on the idea. You sent back your acceptance of the invitation.

The money you’ve gotten from selling your baked goods is supposed to go to a moving out fund, but you can’t help but take out a couple of the gold pieces that he gave you in the first meeting, finding it only fitting that his money buys your outfit for the ball

It’s a really pretty outfit, it fits you well enough, you had to buy it a size larger because they didn’t have your size and you didn’t have enough money to get it tailored. But it didn’t matter that much to you. Your mystery man had seen you in grubbier garment, anything would be a step up from what you met him in.

The news of the ball gets announced to the entire kingdom, and your stepmother is perhaps more excited than you are. She thinks at least one of her daughters will win the heart of the prince. When you voice your want to go, she forbids you. You tell her that you don’t even want to be in the presence of the prince, you just want to see the snack table, she sneers at you but says nothing further, making you believe that perhaps she will allow you to go.

You find yourself in your kitchen, finishing up some of the baked goods you were to take to the ball tonight. The loud clacking of your stepmother’s heels echo on the tile, the door swings open, your stepmother enters in a rage. Your heart stops as you look up from your desserts and see your outfit clutched in her hands.

“What is this?” She hisses, waving the fabric at you as she gets closer.

“My outfit for the ball,” you answer as calmly as you can, speaking around the lump in your throat.

“Oh!” She lets out in mock surprise, “Is it now? I thought you said you were not going to be trying to win the attention of the prince.”

You furrow your brow and remain standing straight with your shoulders squared back, “I am not. I have no intention of wooing the prince, stepmother.”

“Then why have you chosen to wear such an attention seeking outfit? Surely you were planning on going behind my and my daughter’s back. I should have known you were going to do something like this.”

“Please, stepmother. You must believe me. I have no--”

“I do not believe you, you little wench. You’ve always have looked for ways out of this house, to one up me and my daughters. I will stand for this no more.”

You want so badly to lash out, to rip the outfit from her hands, go running from the room, and get dressed. But you can’t move. You can barely breathe. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your stomach turning, and your body locking up. You can only watch as your stepmother glides over to the stove. Her eyes glide over the stove top before smirking. She dunks the outfit into the melted chocolate you were going to use to cover some of the treats.

To make matters worse, part of the cloth flops over the edge of the pan and lands directly on the open flame that was on to melt the chocolate. Your stepmother lets out a triumphant laugh as the outfit catches fire, turning around and leaving the kitchen.

The sound of the door closing behind her causes you to leap into action finally. You rip the outfit out of the pot and toss it in the sink, dousing it with water, extinguishing the flame. The chocolate clings to the fabric, refusing to let go easily as you put your entire being into scrubbing the outfit.

Sobs begin falling from your lips as you realize, even if you get all of the chocolate out of this outfit, it will never dry in time for the ball. Plus. you don’t have fabric to sew up the part where the flame ate part of it. Your outfit is ruined. Your plans are ruined. The night is ruined.

You barely register your stepmother calling for your stepsisters, telling them it was time to go, and the door opening and closing behind them. The world seems to spin around you, sinking you to your knees as you sob loudly, clutching the soaking web fabric to your chest.

The cool tile welcomes you, the warmth of the oven soothes you, and the wetness of the outfit grounds you. The sobs turn into soft hiccups then to silent sniffles as you stare in front of you. Mentally you begin to write your apology letter to Sir Charming about your abscess from the ball. How you were going to go, you really were, you just didn’t have anything suitable to wear.

He’ll probably ask you why you didn’t plan better. He’ll probably be angry. He may not want to speak to you again. You’ll just have to deal with it and beg for forgiveness. And if he decides not to forgive you…. You’ll just have to live with it.

A soft knock echoes from the front door. You’re so in your own head, you’re not sure it’s a real sound, but then it comes again, a little louder this time. You muse it may be one of your steps who forgot something and didn’t think to bring a key.

In a zombie-like fashion, you let the fabric drop from your hands before standing up slowly. It almost feels as if you’re floating as you move to the front door. Your hand somehow finds the doorknob, unlocking it, before turning it and opening it up.

You startle slightly at the sight in front of you. A frail looking older man stands before you. He has grey hair, a hunchback, and a shawl that comes up and covers the top of his head and shoulders. “Oh… hello. Can I help you?” You ask softly, looking out past him wondering where he came from. Your house wasn’t necessarily in the middle of nowhere, but you definitely had your privacy from neighbors. You lived on the edge of the kingdom, no one ever really comes out here.

“Hello there, deary.” His voice is kind and his lips turn upwards slightly. “I am sorry to bother you at this time of night, but I was just on my way home and my stomach let out an awful grumble and I was just wondering if you could spare a bite to eat? I won’t take much, I promise, just something to get me home.”

You don’t know what made you trust this stranger, maybe it was just your deep need to help those around you, maybe you were still in shock from what your stepmother had done minutes… an hour? You’re not sure. But you give him a smile. “Oh yes, of course. Please come in sir. Lucky for you, I was just making something sweet. So you can snack on that while I make you dinner.”

You move out of the way and let the man enter your house.

“Oh, please deary, no need to make me a whole meal.”

“Nonsense,” you answer, guiding him into the kitchen, “I want to make sure you’re well fed for your journey home.” You hand him some of the cookies from the counter. “Here, make yourself at home.”

The man takes the cookie from your hands gently before sitting himself down at the counter. “You are far too kind… I wasn’t even sure anyone would be home. I heard the royal family is throwing a ball, and everyone is invited.”

You can’t help the laugh that falls from your lips as you begin making dinner for this kind man. “Yes, well, my stepmother believed me unworthy to attend… went as far as to destroy my outfit…” you take a moment to look down at the outfit, still soaking at your feet. You snap yourself out of the stupor, “Sorry. Not to dump.”

The man hums as he takes a bite of the cookie. “I see…. Oh this is delicious. You should run a bakery.” He exclaims.

A shy smile plays on your lips as you plate his food. “That’s the goal…One day. Thank you… Anyway, dinner is served!” You place the plate in front of him, your smile growing.

The man instantly digs in and hums in delight at the taste. The two of you converse as he eats, he talks about his life and you give him more insight into yours. Telling him of how you got your love of baking and your hopes of owning a bakery, but not working for the baker in the village.

Soon, he’s down to his last bite of dinner. He pops it in his mouth before leaning back into his chair. “Wow, that hit the spot. Thank you again deary, for dinner and the delightful conversation…”

You give him a smile, “Of course, it’s my pleasure… I just realized I never got your name.”

“You can call me Quackity…AKA”

Suddenly golden light surrounds the man in front of you, forcing a gasp out of your lips. “What’s going on?” You exclaim as the light draws closer to the man, glowing brighter.

Through squinted eyes, you watch the wrinkles fall from the man’s face. It’s as if an ink pot spills from the shawl the rests on his head, his hair turning black. The fabric morphs into a dark grey beanie that remains covering the top part of his hair. His spine straightens, his outfit morphing into a sharp tuxedo with golden wings protruding from his back. His piercing eyes, suddenly getting covered by black sunglasses.

The golden motes of light fade from existence, the old man no longer in front of you, a young man now sitting before you.

“Your fairy godmother…father…papi? Ah who knows.”

You stare wide-eyed, mouth agape at the man that now sits in front of you. “What the fuck?” You whisper. “Who are you?”

The young man tilts his head and gives a playful grin. “I just told you, silly. I’m your fairy god-Papi. You can also call me Quackity. But I’ve watched over you, and I had to make sure you were still a good person. We don’t have time for the full backstory, we have a ball to get you too, dulces.”

You stare at him, your mouth moving like a fish out of water. “What are you talking about? I can’t go to the ball, my outfit is ruined, I don’t have a way to get there. I can’t… Don’t you have to get home?”

Quackity laughs causing you to pout to play on your lips. Quackity notices, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh, you’re just too sweet. I know you think we just met, but you have to trust me. You’ve already let me in your home, you may as well trust me to do this as well.”

You puff up your cheeks with air as you toss your thoughts back and forth, debating his words. Maybe you’re asleep. Maybe you crashed and fell asleep on the kitchen floor and this is all just a dream. At this point, that would make the most sense. You pinch the skin on your thigh, flinching but looking around. When nothing around you changes, you’re forced to take this situation as reality. Incredibly weird, fucked up reality.

You meet Quackity’s bright eyes again, his kind smile never fading. “Okay.” You speak softly, letting your shoulders relax. “I trust you.”

His grin grows bigger and he claps his hands once in delight, holding them in front of his chest for a brief moment, looking you over excitedly. “I knew I chose you for a reason. Let’s get this done then, shall we?”

Quackity claps twice and the golden light fills your vision again, this time though, they’re surrounding you. Your clothes shift and change, the fabric changes and gets tighter to your body. Your hair moves around on its own, which feels weird at first, but then you realize that it feels like someone is doing your hair and you think back to your mother and father doing your hair when you were little. You feel the flour and the sugar fall from your face and your fingertips as the light cleans you up.

Your gaze moves down to your feet and your breath catches at the shoes you now adorn. They’re breathtaking, literally apparently. They’re made of glass, the majority of the shoe being see through, but a gorgeous pattern of color, as if spun sugar swirled throughout. They’re insanely comfortable too. You’d think that shoes made of glass would be uncomfortable, but they’re not. They’re perhaps the most comfortable shoes you’ve ever worn.

Soon, the light fades and you turn to find Quackity holding a mirror. The outfit is beautiful and truly made for a ball. It’s actually your size and fits you well in all of the right places. Your hair is beautiful as well, pulled back to show your face, but is done up in an intricate way. Your face, as you felt, is clear of the evidence of your baking.

“I look good,” you whisper, turning slightly, examining yourself from different angles.

“I know, I did well, didn’t I?” Quackity boasts, the feathers of his wings ruffling at the slight praise.

You look from the mirror to catch his gaze. “You did. But I still don’t have a way there, I don’t want to walk.”

Quackity shakes their head. “Oh yee of little faith. Grab those boxes of treats and follow me.”

You whip around and find all of the baked goods you were working on packed neatly in your boxes. The magic must have moved them while you were getting dolled up. You blinked away the happy tears and scooped up the boxes and scurried out the door after Quackity.

You stand back and watch as Quackity waves his hands around, the golden magic illuminating the dark night. It swirls around a pumpkin in your garden you were planning on using for a pie when it got ripe, making it grow larger and larger, changing from a thick orange pumpkin skin to a brilliant white carriage with golden details.

The sheep that wanders your small farm gets surrounded by the light and is transformed into a beautiful woman who bends at the waist in front of you. “My lady,” she speaks. You curtsy back at her, giggling. You can’t believe this is real.

Two field mice get transformed into a carriage driver and their assistant. Your carrier pigeon you’ve been using gets enlarged into a giant pigeon which the driver and assistant immediately move to get the pigeon hooked up to the carriage. Quackity moves over to stand by you, grinning as the golden light fades away as everything comes to order. “Ta da!” He says, holding his hands out and wiggling his fingers towards to new carriage and humans there to take you to the ball.

You can’t stop yourself from turning to him and throwing your arms around him, pulling him closely to you. He lets out a soft “oof” but wraps his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. “Thank you so much… fairy god….papi.”

Quackity barks out a laugh but squeezes you tighter. “Of course, dulces. Now, this magic doesn’t come without a downside.” He says, pulling away and looking you in the eye. “Nothing too bad, but the magic will fade at midnight. The carriage will go back to a pumpkin, the footman back to mice and your sheep lady to a sheep. Your outfit will fade. It will all end at midnight. So, go, have fun at the ball, eat, drink, make friends, do it all. But when that clock strikes midnight, run like hell little lady.”

You give him a short nod. “I understand… thank you. Will I ever see you again?”

Quackity smiles softly, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “I’ll never be far away from you, dulces.”

You know that means probably not, buy you decide to ignore it as you give him another hug.

He hugs you back before pulling away again. “Enough sap, you have a ball to go to. Go on! Get!” He pushes you toward the open door of the carriage. You giggle, gather the boxes of baked goods you had set down, and move to the carriage.

Puffy, the lady in waiting, climbs in the carriage after you, closing the door behind her, before hitting the top of the carriage, causing the driver to give a shout and the carriage rocks forward.

You glance out the window toward the house and find Quackity watching the carriage leave, his hands pressed to his chest. You bring your hand up and give a small wave. Quackity raises his hand and waves after you, until you cannot see him any longer.

Schlatt was going a little crazy. It was as if the entire kingdom had shown up. Everyone was here. Everyone but you. You had promised that you would come in the letter that you sent a week ago, but maybe you had changed your mind. He hopes you hadn’t though. Afterall, he swore to his father he would be betrothed by the end of this night.

He had met countless single village people, all trying to bat their eyes hard enough to make him take a second glance, but none of them were you. He found himself slumping down in his throne, brushing off the glare his father threw over his shoulder. Pretending not to hear the, “This is what you wanted. At least act like you want to be here.” He hissed over. Schlatt just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

It becomes apparent he has met everyone here tonight and still no sign of you. Until there’s a large commotion by the snack table. His gaze shoots over and his heart picks up at the sight. It’s you. You look so different from the other times he’s seen you, but it is you. He’s on his feet in an instant and rushing over.

You arrive later than everyone else at the ball, but honestly you’re totally okay with that. Less attention to yourself. You give a small bow to your servants for the evening, giving your carrier pigeon a few scritches before ducking into the castle. You hope you’ll be able to find your Sir Charming quickly so you can stick to him for the entire night. You decide you’ll first hit up the snack table to set up your baked goods and sign for the other nobles to taste just like Sir Charming said to do.

You find the table is already packed with baked goods from the bakery. You take it upon yourself to begin moving some of the treats over to make room for your treats.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A familiar voice booms from behind you.

You roll your eyes at the voice but turn around and face the baker, Mr. Lou Hamani. “I was invited to display my baked goods at this ball. So I’m simply making room.” You answer before turning back around and putting more desserts out.

Lou moves to stand beside you at the table and begins to grab at your treats. “I think not you disrespectful child. I am being paid by the king’s advisor himself for these desserts. I will not have you screwing over my chance to impress the nobles that are here today at this ball. You will pack up and leave at once.”

“I will do no such thing, I was invited to set up shop here by a castle staff member and I intend to do so.” You huff. Lou pays your words no mind and continues to gather up the things you’ve baked in his arms. “Hey, put those down. Give those back.” If he hears you he pretends like he doesn’t and cotiunes what he’s doing. It’s then you begin to try and grab your treats out of his hands.

The baker snaps at you, “get your hands off of me.”

“Give me my things back!”

You’re so invested in what is going on in front of you that you don’t realize that the entire ballroom’s eyes are on you.

In the middle of your squabble, someone loudly clears their throat. You then realize you’re in public and everyone can see you. You decide to still not care and face it with confidence. The baker looks over his shoulder and seems to pale at the sight. Your brow slightly furrows and you turn around.

Deep pools of chestnut brown lock with yours and they’re just as fucking beautiful as the day you first met them. They fill you with a sense of calm, but at the same time nerves as butterflies fill your stomach. You think you will never tire of looking him in the eyes.

You find your eyes drifting down and you feel your stomach lurch and your heart stop. You’re seeing his face uncovered for the first time. He’s so fucking handsome…

So fucking handsome with those god fucking damn mutton chops.

“Your highness,” you hear the baker greet shakily from behind you.

Your thoughts are confirmed. The man you met that day in the market, the one you’ve been sending letters to, the one you met once more, the one you’ve been slowly developing feelings for. Is Prince fucking Schlatt himself. Of fucking course he never told you his name. Of fucking course he never showed his face. It’s been him this whole time.

Oh fuck.

You’ve shit talked about him to his fucking face.

You’re fucked.

Gods. You look beautiful. He didn’t know anyone could ever look this good. He’s so fucking happy you came.

His eyes meet yours and he can tell you’re in shock. He was a bit surprised you figured it out, that your Sir Charming was actually the prince. The other part of him feels fuzzy that you can recognize him just from his eyes. He can only hope that you forgive him for lying to you.

“Mr. Hamani,” He greets easily, his eyes not leaving yours. He’s trying to decipher what it is you’re thinking, but your shocked expression masks any else you may be thinking. “Would you kindly unhand my favorite baked goods from my favorite baker? You’ll have to forgive me sir, while I find your treats delicious, I find theirs simply irresistible. I invited them and told them to set up shop here. I apologize that no one informed you in advance.”

The baker stutters but gives a quick bow. “Of course, your highness. No need to apologize to me. I was simply surprised at their appearance is all. They have always been rather disruptive and I wanted to ensure it wasn’t something of that sort happening again… I apologize, your highness.”

Schlatt gives a simple wave of his hand. “Forgiven.” He speaks.

The baker dumps the treats from his hands back on \to the table and scurries away. Schlatt strides over and snatches up a double chocolate chip cookie and takes a bite, moaning at the taste, before turning to face you. He gives a shy smile.

“Hello.”

“Hello,” he states softly as if nerves have invaded his entire stomach. As if he has a right to be nervous after the shit he let you get away with.

“Hello,” You answer tensely.

The two of you stand there, staring at each other for a moment. You haven’t even noticed that the entire ballroom is still at a standstill, staring.

You’re the first to move. You charge forward at him, your finger rising in the air, pointing directly at him. “You. I can’t believe that you-”

Prince Schlatt grabs your hand out of the air, bows, and brings the back of your hand up to his lips. The feeling of his soft lips on your hand sets the flesh there ablaze. You feel your face flush with searing heat along with the heat that floods your entire body. He mutters your name softly, lips still pressed to your hand, sending butterflies soaring in your stomach.

“Prince Schlatt.” You utter, curtsying slightly.

He stands back up to his full height and gives you a soft, lopsided grin. “May I have this dance?”

All of the heated words you wanted to sling his way die on your tongue. You can’t help but wonder if this is all a prank. Like if you accept, he is going to laugh in your face and you’re going to be tossed in the dungeon.

But then you meet his eyes.

Those damn fucking eyes.

They tell you so much, you’re surprised they didn’t tell you who you had been speaking to this entire time.

They tell you to trust him. That he truly means what he is saying. That he wants nothing more than for you to say yes, because he wants to dance with you. Truly, deeply, wants to dance with you.

Hope.

His eyes fill with hope.

And how can you say no to hope.

“You may.”

Schlatt is probably the happiest he’s ever been when you accept his offer to dance. His grin widens significantly before he leads you to the middle of the ballroom. He bows to you and you curtsy. The band strikes up a beautiful waltz song and the two of you begin to dance.

He notices that you’re working hard to follow his moves. It dawns on him that you are indeed a commoner and so you don’t have the dance training drilled into you as he has. He slows his pace down and smiles brightly as your shoulders sag in relief as you catch up with him.

“Sorry,” you mumble for a third time as you step on his toes once more.

“Please stop apologizing. I do not mind. Truly…”

He stares at you beaming, trying to make you see the truth. You seem to only slightly believe him. He clears his throat and pauses for a moment. “Here, step on my feet. I’ll move us around the ballroom.”

He smiles through you raising your eyebrows as if to ask if he was serious. He nods encouragingly.

You realize that he’s not going to move again until you comply. So you do. You carefully step both of your feet onto his, praying the glass shoes are as comfortable on top of his feet as they are on yours. If they’re not, he makes no show of it. His smirk grows impossibly wide and begins to move around once more.

The rest of the room fades away. He can see no others in the ballroom. His gaze is focused on you and you alone. He whispers jokes to you and feels his heart warm when you toss your head back in laughter.

With you, he’s not the prince.

He’s just Schlatt.

He couldn’t be more thankful for you.

You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed as Prince Schlatt dances you across the room. Your father always told you not paying attention to your mother’s dance lessons would come back to bite you. You never thought you’d see the day that would come to fruition.

But he moved you around with such ease that it made you feel as if you were floating. It didn’t matter you didn’t know how to dance, he was there. He was helping you through. He was there for you.

Your mind takes that thought and runs with it.

You think back to you waiting everyday eagerly for his letters to arrive. The way you blossomed under his praise, both of you and your baking. Ever since the moment you met him, he always was there to catch you. You can’t think of a single moment in the past couple months where your mind wasn’t filled with the thoughts of him.

He has always been there.

The music ends and the two of you bow to each other. A round of applause startles the two of you out of your bubble. You look around and find several other couples had joined you on the dance floor, but most people had stayed pressed on the sidelines, watching the dances. Those are the ones that were now applauding. Your face flushes once more and you duck your head down as you step off of Prince Schaltt’s feet and away from him.

If the prince notices you trying to put distance between the two of you, he doesn’t make it known. He instead grabs your hand once more, pressing another kiss to the back of your hand.

“Come on, I must introduce you.” He states simply before moving towards the front of the room where his family sat.

Your heart leaps to your throat, eyes widening as the royal family draws nearer and nearer. Somewhere in your brain had registered that if your Sir Charming was the Prince Schlatt, then his father would then be King Philza. But that didn’t actually click until now.

Until the King, Queen, and other Prince were rising to meet you.

“Father, Mother… brother,” Schlatt greets with a wide smile giving them a bow. “It is my honor to introduce you to my guest of honor for the evening.” You can barely believe it’s your name that then falls from his lips.

Through the fog in your head, you thank yourself for remembering to give a deep bow to the royal family of the land. “Your majesties. Thank you for allowing me… everyone into your home. Everything about this ball is beautiful and perfect.” You give yourself a pat on the back for sliding in that compliment.

“Everything except the pastries from the local baker it seems.” King Philza’s tone is so deep and regal it’s incredibly hard to register the joking tone.

You swallow hard. “Forgive me, your highness. Mr. Hamani and I have never gotten along. I should not have brought our feud inside your home.”

King Philza gives a dismissive wave.

“It’s quite alright, dear.” Queen Kristen speaks up, her tone soft and gentle. “Sometimes men allow their egos to get in the way.”

You can’t help but giggle along with her and nod along.

“Dear!” King Philza lets out in a slight aghast tone.

“Oh do not tell me I am wrong, my love. You should know this better than anyone.”

The King does not have a response back for that. He instead turns back around and catches your eye. His gaze is so piercing you cannot help but look down at your feet. “We will not keep you any longer. Please, enjoy the ball.”

“But I haven’t had a chance to talk with them yet!” Prince Tommy whines, stepping forward to stand with his father.

The King rests a hand on his back and opens his mouth to speak but Prince Schaltt cuts him off. “Nor will you ever. We are off to enjoy the ball now. Farewell.”

Before anyone in his family can get a word in, Prince Schlatt pulls you away. He beelines to the snack table, the people around it parting to allow him access to the table. Almost all of your baked goods are gone, stuffed in the hands of the attendees, all wanting to see just what made Prince Schlatt deny the local baker.

Schlatt snaggs two of the double chocolate chip cookies and one of the brookies from the table and continues on his way, still pulling you away. Instead of stopping somewhere in the grand ballroom, he pulls you completely out of the castle and into the royal gardens.

He stops in front of a bench in front of a fountain. He takes a seat and pats the bench next to him, silently inviting you to sit down.

You do not sit down.

Instead, you take a couple paces back and forth in front of him, before you turn on your heel to face him. “I cannot fucking believe you!” You finally let out all of your nerves and frustrations into the sentence.

Prince Schlatt startles slightly, coughing as a crumb of his cookies go down the wrong pipe. He clears his throat and goes to speak up but you don’t give him the chance.

“You fucking asshole. You let me talk shit about your father… about you to your face the first time we met. Let me talk about your mutton chops. Never stopping to correct me or let me know who you were. You let me call you Sir Charming, never once stopping to tell me your name. How did I let this go this far? You let me write you letters everyday and you wrote me back! You told me so much about you and your life, but didn’t tell me this? This seems pretty fucking big, your highness. Oh my fucking gods. Oh my gods. I can’t fucking believe you. Holy fucking shit. You’re such a fucking asshole.”

You can’t stop your hand from coming up and slapping his shoulder, pushing him back, not hard enough to push him off but hard enough to prove a point.

He says nothing for a few moments, letting you breathe through it and calm down, before a grin splits his face. “Yeah. But it was hot. I liked being put in my place during our first meeting. It was interesting to hear your perspective. Someone talking to a complete stranger, not trying to kiss my ass and make me feel good about myself… though with the way you were talking about my chops, maybe you did just a bit of the latter anyway.”

You let out a frustrated groan as the heat floods your cheeks. “Fuck you.”

He reaches out and cups your cheek, bringing you down a bit to press a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, yeah.”

You take a few more deep breaths before allowing yourself to plop down beside him. You rest your head against his shoulder, forgetting your properness for a moment, taking another deep breath. “I can’t fucking believe you.” You mutter one final time.

Schlatt turns and presses a kid to the top of your head before resting his head on the top of your head. He lets the silence sit for a while before he clears his throat and speaks again. “I am sorry, by the way.”

You don’t speak, which he’s partially grateful for, it allows him to process his thoughts further. But on the other hand, he can’t see your face so he can’t tell if the silence is back.

“I am sorry for not telling you. For lying about who I am… I… You didn’t know me and yet I wanted to know you…but I knew I wouldn’t get that chance if I was honest about who I was. You had a preconceived notion about who I am and I wanted a chance to show you that’s not all of who I am… I didn’t mean for the lie to go on this long. And I do feel back for lying. And I really am sorry.”

Your silence kills him. His heart hammers in his chest. But then he feels you turn and nervously press a quick kiss to his cheek. “I forgive you.” The three words are the sweetest he’s ever fall from the lips of another. “I get it. I appreciate your apology and I forgive you, Prince Schlatt.”

“Jonathon.”

The name escapes his lips before he can stop it.

“Hmm?” You hum, pull your head from his shoulder to look him in the eye, your brows furrowed.

His eyes meet your and his heart pounds quickly in his chest. His stomach turning over and over again, churning with nerves. “Jonathon. My name is Jonathon. Call me Jonathon.”

“Jonathon.” You echo.

Schlatt takes back his previous thoughts. Several people have called him his given name before. But this? Now? When it falls from your lips? It is certainly the sweetest it has ever sounded.

He gives a small nod with a shy smile.

“I forgive you, Jonathon.”

He could pass away right then and there.

“I’m sorry I had to step on your feet so you could dance me around the ballroom.”

“I forgive you… would you like me to teach you how to dance?”

“Would you?”

“I would. I wouldn’t offer if I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t want to dance in front of everyone.”

“Who said anything about going back to the ballroom. We can dance right here.”

Schlatt leads you through several steps very slowly, picking up the pace only after he was sure you were comfortable with the steps.

Soon enough you were dancing like a pro. So much so that you could focus on the conversation between the two of you rather than the steps you were taking.

The two of you talked and danced privately in the gardens all night. You offered several times to go back to the ballroom, the man throwing the ball should at least be in there for longer than a couple moments. He ignored that and said he would rather spend time with the one he threw it for. You can’t help but blush at that.

You’re having such a fun time that you almost forget about the magic’s stipulation. Almost.

Jonathon spins you around once more, and pulls you in close to his chest. When you look up at him, you see he’s suddenly a lot closer than you realized. “Oh!” you let out softly. “Sorry,” you apologize, going to move away.

Jonathon’s hold on you tightens, keeping you in place. “No need to be sorry… I like having you close,” he whispers. Your eyes stray down to his lips as he speaks. They look so soft… so plush… so kissable.

“I like being close to you,” the confession uttered before you can stop it.

The corners of his lips up turn in a small smile. The two of you stand there, frozen in time for a moment before he begins to lean in. You move to meet him. Your lips are about to meet when the grandfather clock that sits across the garden echoes out a loud chime.

It causes you to jump and turn to look at it.

It’s midnight.

“Oh fuck.” You let out. “Is that clock accurate?” You ask, pulling yourself from Jonathan’s arms.

He frowns, brows furrowing slightly, following your gaze. “Oh that old thing? Uhhh, just about. It’s 15 minutes fast. Why?”

You ignore his question and begin to move back toward the inside of the castle. “Fuck. I have to go. I’m sorry. I’ll see you later. I have to go.”

“Wait,” He calls after you, calling your name. “Slow down. Come back. Please. You don’t have to leave.”

“You don’t understand,” You call back, picking up your pace. “I do.”

Without paying attention, you burst back into the ballroom. Several eyes falling on you, eyebrows raised. You pay no mind still and run, trying to push your way past everyone in the room, but people keep coming up to you to talk to you.

A hand on your wrist spins you around and you lock eyes with those beautiful chestnuts you’ve grown so fond of. His eyes scream worry and panic, silently begging you to stop running.

You yourself must look panicked and frantic in a different way. Like a wild animal that has been caged and is about to start lashing out.

“Please.” You whisper. “Help me.”

The grip on your wrist loosens. Schlatt may not understand, but he will always do everything he can in order to be the person you need at any given moment.

“Everyone!” He calls out loudly, moving towards the refreshment table. “Please come over here and join me in a toast to celebrate this evening.”

The crowd instantly leaves you, allowing you a path to exit the room and then the castle. You’ve never been happier to see the grass as you are now.

“Stop! Wait! Halt in the name of the Prince!” You turn slightly and look over your shoulder and find a knight with fluffy brown hair and square glasses chasing after you. In the moment, you recognize him as Charlie, one of Schlatt’s best friends/knights.

“Oh fuck!” You shout. The magic was starting to fade already, you can tell, because all of the sudden it was hard to run in your glass shoes. You bend down and kick them both into your awaiting hands. You turn for a sharp moment, throwing one of your shoes at the knight. He lets out a loud startled scream, stopping for just long enough for you to run to your carriage.

“Go! Go! Go!” You shout at your footmen and lady. They waste no time before kicking up and bolting out and away from the palace. You look out the window and find Charlie has stopped chasing you, one hand on his hip, the other holding your glass shoe up to the light in an inspection.

You slump back in your seat, letting out a deep sigh.

“That was way too close.”

After getting all of his guests to make a toast, Schlatt books it out of the ballroom. He races to the front lawn. His head whips back and forth, peering down the road to try and see any sign of a moving carriage.

Footsteps sound from either side of him. His head turns and he meets the eyes of Ted who gives a pitying look and a shake of his head. Schlatt looks to the other side and meets Charlie’s eyes who also shakes his head. His eyes drift down to Charlie’s hands, and there was the shoe. Your beautiful glass shoe.

Schlatt slowly reaches out and carefully takes the shoe from his friend’s grasp and clutches it to his chest. He turns his eyes back down the main road, staring off letting out a soft sigh. Hands clasp on both of his shoulders in a silent comfort.

The magic faded when you were nearly home. You had to herd a sheep, two mice, and your carrier pigeon back home all while carrying your big ass pumpkin in slightly damp clothes barefoot as you had thrown your one shoe and taken off the other. Your shoe though did not fade with the magic, you weren’t sure if that made you happy or sad. By the time you made it back, you were exhausted. You quickly put everything back where it was supposed to go, taking a quick shower, tucking the shoe under your bed, and collapsing in your room.

You’re not sure how long you were asleep for before the door to your room slammed open. It startles you awake from your deep sleep. You look up and in a silhouette from the hallway light, is your stepmother. Your heart leaps to your throat, trying to take deep breaths in through your nose trying to calm down.

“Stepmother,” you greet groggily. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You insolent child.” She hisses. “I thought I made myself very clear. You were not to go to the ball. And what do you do, but steal the prince away for the whole evening?”

“I do not know what you’re speaking about, stepmother.”

She shoots a sharp glare at you. “You know exactly what I speak of… No matter. With the way you went running from the ball I’m sure the prince realized his mistake. Choosing you to dance and spend time with. With the way he let you go, I’m sure it’s that he realized you are not and will never be good enough for him. You? A low life orphan baker? Royalty? Never.”

Her words sting like the venom they are. But you can’t help but realize she’s right. No matter what you do, you’ll always be an orphan that so happens to be good at baking. You would be an awful royal.

Maybe that’s why he chose to help you escape rather than continue to chase after you.

Maybe he realized it too.

You will the tears to not fall as you stick your chin out a little further. “I do not know what you’re speaking about, stepmother. Now if you don’t mind I’d like to get some more sleep.”

She is a touch surprised at your instance, certain that her words would break you. She gives you another glare, but grabs the doorknob and slams the door to your bedroom.

You flop back on your bed and stare up at the ceiling for a long moment. You don’t realize you’re crying until the tears pool in your ear canal. You bring your hands up and wipe them away, rolling onto your side and clutching at one of your pillows.

You had to end it… whatever it was.

The clock on his wall warns him it’s 3 am, but Schlatt ignores it in favor of pacing back and forth in front of a table where the shoe was perched. Every so often he paused to look over the shoe before pacing again.

“Why did you run?” He asks the shoe, staring at it as if it will give a response. “Where did you go… why did you throw this shoe at Charlie’s head?” A small smile breaks on his face as he pictures the scene Charlie described to him three hours ago. “I would have given anything to see it… to be there myself… to stop you myself.”

He stands still for a moment longer before pacing again.

“Maybe… maybe you found it all to be too much…” He speaks, slowing down his steps. “It all caught up to you… didn’t it. It all sank in. You realized truly who I was and you had to get out… You… you don’t want me.”

He stops again, plopping down on the edge of his bed. “I suppose I can’t fault you… But I deeply wish you hadn’t run.” He flops backwards and stares up at the ceiling.

It was going to end… whatever it was.

Schlatt didn’t realize that he had fallen asleep until he wakes up. He spends a good amount of time staring up at the ceiling. Every knock on the door gets a “go away” as he lays in bed wallowing in his own self pity. The knocks stop for a couple hours. But then they’re back again.

Schlatt startles out of his thought spiral and this knock on the door, this one louder than all the others. He groans at the sound, rolling over on his side and tugging a pillow over his head, blocking out most of the noise. “Go away,” He calls out, tucking himself into his bed further.

The silence makes him believe whoever was outside listened to him. That is until the door opens and shuts behind him. He groans from the back of his throat, rolling himself over and sitting up. “I said, go away-- father-” He interrupts himself as his eyes meet his father’s green ones.

Philza raises an eyebrow and the corners of his lips turn up slightly at his son’s behavior. “Good day to you too, Jonathan.”

“Good day, dad.” Schlatt mumbles, sitting himself up properly. Schlatt moves his feet up slightly to make room for Philza as he moves and sits down on the end of Schlatt’s bed.

Philza’s hand smooths over the blankets as he gives a glance around the room. His eyes catch on the shoe, still propped up on the table. “They gave you their shoe?” He asks, amusement lacing his tone.

Schlatt huffs a laugh. “More like, threw it at Charlie’s head.”

Philza doesn’t hold back and lets the laugh escape his lips. “Oh I knew I liked them. You picked well son. An excellent love match.”

Schlatt sighs and turns to lay on his side, back facing his dad. “Apparently not. She ran away. I assume because she couldn’t handle me… who I really am. I don’t blame her after all the time I spent lying to her.”

Phil furrows his brow and questions what Schlatt means by that. With nothing left to hide, Schlatt divulges the entire relationship. How they met and met again (which Phil was not happy about but decided now was not the time to bring it up) and how they sent letters to each other nearly everyday and how he knew they didn’t know his name but never told them his name or who he really is. How he had thrown the ball hoping they’d come and they did and how it has all been for them but it’s all been for nother.

Phil nods along, listening carefully. He lets Schlatt take deep breaths after his rant. “I knew something was up.” Schlatt meets his eyes, curious but does not speak. “You’ve been so much happier in these past few weeks than I can remember… And you were so insistent on a love match. Deep down I knew… So my only question is why the hell are you moping around this room when you should be out there looking for them?”

“Didn’t you hear me, dad? They don’t want me. They ran away.”

“Did they tell you they didn’t want you? Look you in the eyes and say ‘Prince Schlatt I do not want you?’”

“No but--”

“No buts, son. I haven’t seen you this happy in years. I know that you’re in love with them, whether you realize it or not. I know because you look at them the same way I look at your mother. And they wouldn’t have spent the whole night with you if they didn’t love you too. They wouldn’t have given you a clue telling you to come get them if they didn’t.” Philza motions to the shoe. “So again, I ask you. Why the hell are you moping around this room when you should be out there looking for them?”

The words resonate with Schlatt, filling him with hope, that maybe, just maybe you love him like he loves you… damn. Yeah. He loves you.

“You’re right… I have to go dad, I have to…” Schlatt shoots up out of bed and digs through his closet and throws on a random outfit. “I have to get Ted and Charlie and a whole group and we have to go looking. Door to door. I have to find them. I am going to find them.” He runs a hand through his hair before whipping around to face his father with a grin. He rushes forward and presses a kiss on his father’s cheek. “Thanks, dad.”

You sat staring at the blank piece of paper in front of you. What to say to the man that makes you feel everything. You twirl your pen in between your fingers a couple times. Letting out a sigh, you lean back for a moment, looking out the window. Your attention gets caught by the pigeon beside you who lets out a coo. You sigh again, reaching out and giving the bird scritches. “Hey there,” you murmur. The bird leans into your fingers, rubbing against you more. “Yeah… I know this letter won’t write itself.” The bird cocks its head and coos. “Yeah, just one more letter… a goodbye. I know you must be excited, you won’t have to carry my messages anymore.” Another coo. “Well, of course I’ll let you fly around outside. I’m not a monster.” It blinks at you. “Well I have to tell him something! I can’t just stop speaking to him. I need him to know… It’s quite literally not him. It’s me. I’ll never deserve him… no matter how much I care… for him.” The bird lets out a sharp and short coo. “Fucking hell. You’re right. I love him. Gods damn it I love him so much. Oh this is going to be a nightmare.”

Schlatt sighs in frustration as he and his knights trudge to the castle. They’ve knocked on every single door in the kingdom and not a single one did you stand behind it. The sun was setting the knights stomachs were grumbling so Schlatt decided to call it a day and head back to the castle, determined to start again tomorrow.

He picks at his dinner, tossing and turning it over with his fork, giving half hearted replies to questions that he’s really not paying attention to. He can’t help but replay every interaction he’s had with you over again, followed closely by several notable interactions he had throughout the day. One where the woman had caked her face in flour hoping to prove herself to be the baker. Another that when she answered the door said “I am not interested!” with a smug smile, as if she really did something, and then slammed the door in his face. As if he would be interested in her? He very clearly was looking for someone.

His head is heavy with everyone he’s seen and spoken to today, he’s just ready to turn in for the night.

And then he hears it.

That beautiful coo he’s grown accustomed to listening for every day. The tell tale sign that you have sent him a letter. It’s Bob. Your carrier pigeon.

And he has a letter attached to his leg.

Schlatts posture instantly straightens and he holds out his finger, letting out a soft coo of his own. Everyone turned in confusion and watched Schlatt. Ted was about to speak before Bob landed on his fingers and stuck out his leg. Schlatt carefully took the rolled paper and fed the pigeon a couple nuts

Schlatt carefully unrolled the letter and began to read.

My dearest, Prince Charming,

I guess now that I know who you truly are it is only correct that I change the sir in your title to Prince. My prince… I had the most magical time last evening with you. Dancing around in your private garden is certainly something I will never forget and will always be grateful for. It was so incredibly sweet of you to give me your undivided attention.

It unfortunately has come to my own attention that I am not good for you. I do not deserve you my sweet prince. I could never be someone that you deserve. I am a simple orphan that happens to be good at baking. No matter how hard I would try, you would always be way out of my league.

I hope you find the love match that you seek. I hope you find someone good and kind, with a loving heart that will deserve you and be someone worthy of your love and care. Someone worthy of you throwing an entire ball for them. I don’t know how I ever thought I could be that person. I am so sorry…

I love you, Jonathon.

But you deserve so much more than me.

Yours,

Your name is signed at the bottom of the letter as it always is. He reads the second to last line, once, twice, a thousand times, until he’s convinced himself that it’s real. That you really wrote that you love him. He didn’t care about the other stuff that you wrote. Well he kind of did. But he knew it was bullshit. If anything it’s him who doesn’t deserve you.

If only he could find you to tell you this….

And then it hits him.

He springs up from the table and rushes out, startling everyone in the dining room with him. The pigeon flaps its wings and lands on his shoulder, used to being carted around. Schlatt runs to his room where he grabs a pen and paper of his own. He scribbles “I love you,” before snatching the shoe off the table and rushing outside. Ted and Charlie rush out behind him, confused at the rush.

“Schlatt, what are we doing?” They ask.

Schlatt elects to ignore them as he hands Bob the messily rolled piece of paper. “Here, Bob. Show me the way to them.” Bob takes the paper, coos softly, and takes off.

Schlatt instantly begins to race after the bird, Ted and Charlie following close behind. How relieved he was to finally find a way to find you. Bob would certainly lead him to you. He could only hope he could keep up with the bird.

Schlatt was feeling winded by the time he reached the small house on the edge that borders the kingdom and the forest. He hadn’t thought to make his way all the way out here, thinking you lived closer to the village with the way you walked to the market. Obviously he had been wrong.

Either way, he could only pray that Bob had led him to the right place.

He couldn’t tell if the tightness in his chest and the shortness of breath was just from him running all this way or if it was his nerves. He decided to call it ‘a bit of column a and a little of column b’ and call it a night.

The three approached the door, each taking deep breaths calming themselves from the journey taken to get here. Schlatt looks over his shoulder apprehensively at Ted and Charlie. He had knocked on over a hundred doors today, it didn’t make sense that this was the one he got nervous on.

His best friends each gave him an easy smile and a kind and encouraging nod, eager for the prince to knock. Schlatt turned back to the door, letting out a breath, shaking his arms out, before reaching up and giving a sturdy knock.

It’s silent on the other side of the door for a long moment. Schlatt’s heart pounds so hard in his chest he has to swallow hard to get it back down to his chest. The door know turns quickly and the door is pulled open and an older woman stands before him. He tries to not let his disappointment show, especially as surprise and utter delight paints her face.

The woman drops to a quick curtsy. “Your highness,” she greets. Her voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard and it takes everything Schlatt has to not visibly recoil. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

A small bout of hope flutters down his spine causing Schlatt to stand straighter at the word “we.” “I am not sure if you have heard, but have been searching the entire kingdom for the one I danced with last night. Do you have any children, my lady?”

The woman brightens up even more and squares her shoulders back. “As a matter of fact I do. I have two.” The woman turns and cups her mouth. “GIRLS,” She hollers, causing the boys to shutter at the loud call.

Footsteps race across the wooden floor and two younger women appear. Schlatt feels a huge wave of disappointment was over his being as he looks at their faces and realizes they’re not you. He doesn’t hide his distaste as the girls push each other, trying to stand straighter and puff out their chest larger than the other.

“Neither of these young women are who I am looking forward… Does anyone else live here? A servant or a stable hand? Perhaps a cook?” Schlatt asks, taking a single step forward, looking around the room hoping for some kind of sign of you.

The woman’s face sours at the question before her mask gets put back in it’s place. “No one else, your highness. Although I can assure you, my daughters are perfectly suitable--”

“What’s that?” Schlatt interrupts as a noise sounds from one of the adjacent rooms. It sounded like metal being set down on a counter. “I thought you said no one else lived here.”

The woman swallows harshly and moves to stand in front of the door. “That… that is just the cook your highness, they do not live here… or at least soon will not,” she mutters the latter part with venom before turning back to Schlatt, a perfect smile posing on her lips. “No one to concern yourself with, truly.”

Any sense of trust for the woman is washed away when the scent hits his nose. He would be able to pick that scent out of a million different ones. It’s one of the best things he’s ever smelled.

He would be able to recognize the scent of your double chocolate chip cookies.

And he knows you’re in there.

“By order of the king, I demand you step aside.” He barely recognizes his voice as it escapes his lips. It’s deep and authoritative… damn as each day passes he sounds more and more like his father… he’ll have to correct that.

The woman opens his lips to protest.

Deciding he wants to hear no more of his voice, he gently pushes the woman’s shoulder out of the way. His hand finds the door knob and he throws open the door without care. He breath is ripped from his lungs as he sees the person who stands in the kitchen… in front of those unmistakable chocolate chocolate chip cookies.

“It’s you.”

The door slamming open scares the shit out of you.

The entire day you had been lost in your own head. You finished the letter and gave it to your pigeon to take to Schlatt. As soon as it had left your sight, you made your way to the kitchen in a daze where you let yourself begin baking whatever your heart was feeling in the moment.

It was only when you were beginning to clean up the batter dishes did you realize what you had made… and who you had made it for. You let yourself drift back into your head as you watched the cookies bake through the oven window. You knew you would probably never see him again. Especially not after this letter.

You took them out of the oven and let the pan clatter to the counter without much of a care. The soft cooing of your pigeon drew your attention away. You turned to greet it when you caught sight of the paper on it’s leg. Confusion fills you as you carefully take the paper.

I love you.

It can’t be.

The door bursts open, causing you to jump and whip around. Those damn fucking beautiful eyes. They always seem to follow you. To haunt you. Especially in your own house, those fucking chesnut brown eyes that say everything that you want to hear all without saying a word.

“It’s you.”

Oh fuck he’s actually here.

What the fuck?

What is he doing here???

“What are you doing here?”

His eyes don’t leave yours as he surges forward. One of his arms wraps around your waist, the other moving behind your neck, hand moving up to cradle the back of your head. “What are you doing here? Why did you run away?”

You stare at him in disbelief, mouth opening and closing a few times. “Did you not get my letter? I’m no good for you, Jon--Prince Schlatt, I do not deserve you, your highness. You deserve someone much better than me. Surely you--”

“Don’t you understand,” he whispers, cutting you off. “There is no one better.”

“But your highness--”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What?”

“You know what. Don’t call me that. That’s not my name. Not to you.”

You let out a sigh and rub your flour coated hands on your apron. “Jonathon.”

The smile that spreads across his face nearly makes you melt into a puddle. “There it is.” He murmurs, drawing his face closer to yours. “That’s my name.”

“Jonathon,” You repeat, trying to pull your blushing face away from his to no avail. You clear your throat and continue. “As per my letter, you deserve so much better than me. I am sure you can find someone-”

“Did you mean it?”

You look at him partly confused, partly annoyed at him continuing to interrupt you. “Mean what?”

“Did you mean it when you signed that you love me?”

Your heart stops in your chest. You forgot you said that part. You don’t think you would have said it had you known it would have caused him to come bursting into your kitchen. You look at him in disbelief, is he not hearing your words? He surely read the letter. Why is he being so insistent on this?

You could never lie to him though.

You clear your throat and move your shoulders back. You meet his eyes head on. “Yes. I did. But-”

“I love you too.”

The world stops again. “What?”

“As per my letter,” he says, a shit eating grin playing on his lips. The shock flowing through your body stops you from rolling your eyes. “I love you.”

You remember the small piece of paper that was surely on the floor now that you took from the pigeon just moments ago. Obviously that’s who the paper was from. You swallow hard. “Sure you can’t-”

“But surely I can. I think I’ve been in love with you ever since you called me a big petty man-baby who looked hotter now than I did before.”

“I… I…’”

“I love you,” He utters, moving impossibly closer to your face. “I always have. You are all I want. You deserve so much better than me… But I’m hoping you’ll lower your standards and settle for me anyway.”

His eyes shine so brightly. Those damn, fucking, beautiful eyes. They stare at you, hopeful, waiting with bated breath for your answer. They stare so intensely at you… You never want them to look away.

It’s you that closes the distance and presses your lips to his. He instantly responds, tugging you closer to his chest and kissing you back. The kiss makes your body sing in delight. The spark starts at the base of your spine where his hand connects to your body and shoots out, encasing you completely. From the tippity top of your head to the bippity bottom of your toes.

He consumes you. Completely. Totally. Entirely.

You pull away breathless from the kiss, meeting his eyes. “I love you, Jonathon. I want to be yours. Please. I want to be yours, if you’ll have me?”

Jonathon lets out a breathless laugh and shakes his head once. “Oh sweets, you’ve always been mine. I’ve always been yours. From the moment I met you. I’ve been hooked, sweets. You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.”

He leans forward again and presses his lips to yours. You eagerly respond, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

After you break apart again, Schlatt tells you to pack your things. You don’t have much here anyway so it doesn’t take you long. Your step family could only watch with crossed arms as you moved about, taking your things. You would miss the house you grew up in, but you were more than excited to begin your new journey.

Schlatt made Ted and Charlie help carry your things. Ted cursed at Schlatt for not thinking to grab a carriage or at least a horse in the pursuit of you. That spun a whole argument between the two, leaving you to converse with Charlie.

You gave the man a shy smile. “Sorry for throwing my shoe at you… I panicked about someone following me.

Charlie gives a chuckle and a smile. “It’s no worries. I’m just glad you made it home safely.”

“Yeah me too! The magic gave out and I was left carrying a huge ass pumpkin home… My back hurt like hell this morning.”

Charlie tilts his head and gives you a curious look. “Not what I meant… but I do want to hear more about this magic.”

“What did you mean then?”

Charlie doesn’t answer, his head simply moves to where Schlatt and Ted were now in a physical altercation, Schlatt attempting to put Ted in a chokehold.

A fuzzy feeling floods your chest.

He is your home… isn’t he?

Small Epilogue

The two of you marry quickly. The royal family welcome you with open arms. They help teach you the ways of the royals but never make you feel less than for being a commoner before the marriage. You never stop baking, you think Schlatt would throw a huge fit if you ever did. He constantly blamed you for his “twink death.” And although you’re not entire sure what that means, you’re sure that happened way before he met you.

You two love each other openly and loudly. It brings smiles to everyone’s faces to see the prince this lovey dovey with someone. There will always be those that disapprove, but Schlatt is there to hold your hand and tell them to fuck off.

He reminds you he loves you every single minute of every single day… you think maybe he lays it on a little thick in particular when he wants you to bake something in particular. You never mind though. It’s your baked goods that brought you together in the first place.

Who are you to deny your love the thing that the two of you bonded over first?

Especially when he loves you with every fiber of his being…

…and maybe even more so when you make him chocolate chocolate chip cookies…

And they lived happily ever after. The End

As per usual, I am shit at writing endings. Thank you for reading my 16.3k word self indulgent fic <3

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okay byeeeeeeee back to my several year hiatusssss

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heecyon · 2 years ago

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑; 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 —volume one

pairing: ceo!park jongseong x brother's best friend!fem!reader

genre: arranged/forced marriage, accidental pregnancy, brother's best friend, slight age gap (reader's 22 and jay's 24), angst, fluff and second chance love.

warning(s): grammar mistakes, curse words, nicknames, arranged marriage, suggestive scenes, mentions/allusions to sex, toxic/abusive mother, verbal abuse, vomiting, mentions of food, accidental pregnancy, sort of toxic relationship between jay and reader.

word count: 14.0k words

summary: Just a year ago, you were forced to marry Park Jongseong, CEO of the Southern Branch, part of the vary famous Park Enterprises. It was all for the sake of your family, a marriage for the benefit of gaining more traction as a company. Jongseong was attentive, caring, sometimes even sweet, but your relationship was more about sex than it was about the marriage itself. At some point, everything got bad, and it was just mere sexual intimacy that anything else, and just when you were close to ending things...you found out you were pregnant.

playlist • backburner by niki • common by zayn • dos mil 16 by bad bunny • used to this by camila cabello • astronomy by conan gray • lovers by anna of the north • lover of mine by 5sos • this love by taylor swift • julia by lauv •

volume two

CEOs & ARRANGEMENTS MASTERLIST

taglist (open): @iloveoceaneyesss @abdiitcryy @chimajeyn @sjakewrld @loves0ft @duolingofanaccount @ufoundme @sunghoons-mole @tobiosbbyghorl @dasa3040 @monkeybabyzz @snowysung @wonyofanclub @prdxinvade @dearhee @zhrtics @woinswoo @rerequire @in2jhae @darkreymbow @ahnneyong @uuwonniee @hueningluvbotsworld @iwuvjay @zen003xx @pshchives

author's note: So sorry for the delay, I'm still not done with volume two, and I wanted to have ready before publishing volume one, but I'm very impatient. The story is so long (it's 39k long at this point) that I had to divide it in two parts. I'm really anxious, because I don't know if this is good... but here you go. Also, the story is narrated mostly on the MCs views, not in first person, but mostly in the ambience that she is around.

PROLOGUE; And for once, I don't care about what you want. As long as we keep talking

It wasn't that the hospital bed was uncomfortable. It's the ambience, the situation that you just got into that made you uncomfortable.

Jongseong wasn't showing any type of expression, he was just standing, staring at the floor, maybe at his feet. You swore that his soul was wandering somewhere around the room.

You should've ended things sooner.

Maybe it was your fault, somehow.

ACT ONE; I can't lie, it feels nice that you're calling. You sound sad and alone, and you're stalling

Ever since you had memory, Sunghoon has been your best friend. You were both polar opposites, but somehow you still got along perfectly. While Sunghoon was way more reserved, introverted and shy, you were outgoing, talkative and extroverted. Wherever Hoon went, you would follow him as well, as a baby chick following her mother.

And of course you weren't a stranger to Sunghoon's family. The Parks were very well-known around the continent, but it wasn't because of that. Your parents knew very well the five-membered family. As well, you were born in an old money family, from a very old business in the country. They had a very good friendship with The Parks, and that's how you met Sunghoon.

You would always visit the mansion with a huge smile on your face.

"Do you want more donuts, Bellie?" Hoonie asked, his cutesy twelve-year old face, stuffed with the strawberry jam-filled dessert. You held back a giggle, trying hard not to laugh. "Yes, obviously." Soon, you grabbed a donut from the counter. It had a delicious vanilla frosting, but on the inside it contained a nutella filling.

Bellie, Belle.

Those were the nicknames that the family gave you, well… Jay gave you that nickname. It started when you started dressing up as Belle from 'The Beauty and The Beast' every single halloween. Jay kept the name to joke around with you, but it soon became a way that they called you to express how dearly they loved you.

When you played around with dolls, it was a completely different story. With your friends, you used to play with baby dolls, pretending to be mother's taking care of their children.

But some of them didn't truly believe the name that you gave to your "baby".

"What's her name again?" The four year old in front of you asked. She didn't understand what you were saying.

While your friends gave their "babies" names like: Areum, Young-sun, and Lily. You, on the other hand, gave your "child" the following name…

"Noa, her name is Noa."

The kids looked at you weirdly, it wasn't a name that you usually heard, but you had always liked it.

Your parents had taken you on a business trip to Japan, alongside your older sister. They took you both to their offices in the country, where other kids would wait for their parents.

You were left alone, your sister leaving you behind to play with other children. You tried to play around with other kids, but they seemed to ignore, find you annoying, even, because of your chatty attitude.

The only kid who did not ignore you was a girl two years older than you, she was obviously smaller, but she was educated and sweet, and with the knowledge that she had, she held your hand taking you somewhere else to play.

"Play hide and seek?" Those were her first words towards you. "Of course!"

You were only happy that you got to play with somebody, that somebody was not ignoring. You just played around with her, both of your tiny legs looking for places to hide around the building.

And when the end of the day came, and you were being scolded by your mother to hurry up, you finally asked her:

"What's your name?" You said grabbing your glitter backpack.

"My name… is Noa."

The name sounded beautiful to you, something that you'd never heard before. And you remembered her, because she was the only kid who did not blatantly ignore you.

"Daddy, what does Noa mean?"

Your father had complete knowledge of that foreign language, within seconds he had answered your questions.

"It's a really nice name, it means 'from love' in japanese. Why do you ask?"

"I met a girl today, she was named that way, and I thought that the name was pretty."

That was the origin of that name that caused your friends to turn their heads, with time they got used to it, but they always found it curious.

As you were both enjoying your dessert, a presence came into the room. "I thought I told you to leave me one of those." You both turned around to see his older brother.

You were four years old when you first met Jay. Sunghoon had become your play partner and the rest of the kids were on a trip to the United States.

They had finally come back home and at first you weren't that interested, but when you first saw Jay coming through the entrance door, your heart gained experience for what a palpitation was, at least that's what your younger self thinks. For you, he was the most handsome boy you had ever seen, that childhood love that every girl would like to have for themselves.

"Sorry, they were way too delicious, they might have gone to waste." You said with a smirk on your lips. Nearly shoving the donut to his face.

Jay rolled his eyes, a small laugh coming out of his mouth.

"You are something else, if you continue like this you might as well just corrupt my brother with your silly personality."

"I'm sorry, but my personality is not silly." You got up from the seat, standing up in front of him.

For him, you could be a beautiful ray of sunshine one day, and the other you could be a huge gremlin, there was no in between.

"Sometimes it can be… you don't need to get so mad just because somebody finds you cute most of the time." "But I thought-"

He said lowering down his eyebrow, his hands laying on top of your shoulders. Jay sometimes made you feel things that you simply couldn't explain. You weren't in love with him, you just found him very attractive, and handsome…If someone would've told you would be feeling this way towards a boy, you were pretty sure that you wouldn't be friends with Sunghoon if it was because of that.

"When I say silly…I mean cute. Don't really want another cute person close to me, except you."

A sudden flush took over your cheeks, and till this day you are way too sure that something inside of him lighted up, right inside his soul.

But that wasn't the first close encounter you had with Jay.

Sometimes, things got way too intimate.

People knew you in high school as the witty, and silly girl, a ray of sunshine that illuminated the beautiful light blue sky. You made friends very easily, and were actually a good student.

You still hung out with Sunghoon during the school breaks, but because you were in different classes, you didn't see each other as much at school…but you did at home.

Still, the both of you tried your best to see each other at school.

It was one of those days where you waited for Sunghoon at lunch hour, the rest of the Parks were in the same class as Hoon. So, it wasn't a surprise for them that you were waiting for their youngest brother.

Even though you felt fazed at the moment, going back to what happened that morning. You had a small problem with one of your classes, chemistry to be exact.

It wasn't your forte, but you always gave your all, even though sometimes you felt a little bit lazy.

When your mother received your report card, a few days ago, she just focused on the B- that you had gotten in that class.

Among the various 'As' that you'd gotten, she only focused on that class. She scolded you, not only that… She yelled at you.

"Such a disappointment! How are you going to take care of a business with these horrible grades?!" She pressed her hand on your arm, as you looked at your sister, she gave you back a look of pity.

"Eunji, you don't have to be that way, it's just a grade, she does great in every single other class." "If you keep justifying her, she'll stay behind her sister and will continue to be a failure."

It wasn't like you weren't used to being called that way, it didn't bother you anymore, other than that it just made you realize that you would prove your mother wrong no matter what, you would be nothing like her.

"Hey, Sunghoon isn't done yet. You'll have to wait for a little while." Jay said getting close to you at the doorway

You still didn't understand why he never wore his uniform correctly. His school jacket was on, with the unbuttoned school shirt underneath.

And for some reason, he always wore a rock band t-shirt underneath his outfit.

By that time, Jay's hair was cut short. Bangs hanging on his forehead. Which was a problem, because for you… He looked hot. Jay was a good student, but with his image it didn't seem like it.

Girls were always trying to get his attention, as well as his brothers'. It was reasonable, they were incredibly handsome, but for you, Jay was something else.

"Yeah, I don't really mind." You responded, shrugging your shoulders

Jay examined you from head to toe. The way you looked down at your feet, the way your dark bangs covered your face, the way your skin glistened close to the sun and how your pink tinted lips would perfectly fit on his.

He also noticed your scent, a scent of cinnamon and vanilla glaze. It just made him more attracted to you.

Jongseong let a finger get close to your face, he then used three of his digits to move a piece of hair from your face placing it behind your ear. It felt like a light brush against your skin.

"You had a hair sticking out." The boy said with confidence. Your scent makes its way into his nostrils, as if you were tempting him into kissing you. He wondered what your lips tasted like? Did they taste exactly how you smelled like? Sweet and yummy?

On the other hand, your heart was beating irrationally, and soon you felt like your stomach was pressing against your ribs. Why was Jay making you feel such things?

"I can take you somewhere else, that way you won't miss your lunch." Jongseong's voice took you out of your trance in a complete surprise.

"And where would you take me?" You asked suddenly, gaining confidence.

"I know a place." He said getting closer to your body. You felt yourself heat up on the inside. "What about Sunghoon?" You came up with an excuse.

Jay looked back into the classroom. A focused Sunghoon getting in his view, still invested in his notebook.

"He won't mind." The boy said looking back at you, a smirk adorning his lips. "But-"

"Trust me, Y/N. Let's go." He held a grip on your arm, carefully guiding you to wherever he was taking you.

He somehow managed to take you to a place outside of the school territory. It was a burger place, decorated with hanging plants, cacti on the floor and white long couches that sat around the restaurant.

Jay guided you towards one of the couches, a table in front of you.

You both proceeded to order from the menu. Shy to order anything without having your wallet in hand, just having a few dollars in your pockets, Jay said the following. "Don't worry, order anything you want. Lunch is on me."

You nervously shook your head. "No, no. I'll pay for my own food." "It's alright, I'll pay for you. I don't mind." He smiled.

In the end, both of you ordered what caught your interest from the menu. And when it arrived, you were ready to devour. You know those delicious hamburgers with a juicy patty and that magnificent melted cheese? Well, that's what you were devouring, including those delicious cheese balls that you always liked.

"Can I have some?" Jay asked, pointing at the basket full of the delightful appetizers.

"Well… Let me think about it." You said while grabbing a cheese ball. A hum escaped your lips as you pretended to think about giving him the snack. "Ok, you can have it."

Jay happily grabbed the cheese ball from your hand, and just as he cheerily ate the snack you giggled underneath your breath. For you, he looked cute. And you continue to enjoy your lunch together, sometimes the silence that you would be in after a conversation, would be comfortable and warming.

Sometimes you didn't notice how he would stare at you in awe, as if he was seeing a hidden wonder from the world.

And then you asked him something, "Have you thought about what your grandfather told Sunghoon?" The inquiry you made had caused Jay to get out of his trance. He looked at you with strange eyes, as if he was thinking about what he wanted to answer.

His grandfather had always been skeptical, also a little bit stressful. When the boys were just little kids, he kept talking about how they had to continue the family business. They were just five at the moment, and they didn't understand what he meant. But as they grew older they soon got a hold of the situation.

'Park Enterprises' has been a family business since 1962, exactly founded by Mr. Park, it started as a small office, a business to start technological advancements. Soon, the company grew to be huge, having three different branches in South Korea.

SPE, or The Southern Branch, is the one in charge of the Nanotechnological Advancements. NPE, also called The Northern Branch, is the one who takes care of the Communicative Technological Advancements. Meanwhile WPE, or The Western Branch, is the one in charge of Healthcare Technological Advancements.

The enterprise had become an empire that had spread around the world. With different sucursals in Italy, U.S, even some countries of Latin America. It was clear that it was a very successful business, a well known name that was stuck to the public's mouth.

No matter what happened, the brothers saw this business as their future responsibility. They wanted to make their family proud, and they were ready for whatever they had to do for the family business, even if it was not what they wanted.

"If my family thinks that it's for the best, then I'll do whatever they want me to do." You looked at him, raising your eyebrows with curiosity and surprise. You always say Jay as a man that was stubborn and obstinate, if he didn't like something he would say it, and he wasn't someone to give in easily.

So, you scoffed. "That sounds so weird coming from you." He raised his head looking at you. Jay knew that somehow you were right. He didn't want to be brainwashed by his family, but that business was his family's pride and joy. He wasn't ready to let them down.

"What do you mean?" Jongseong pretended to be clueless. A sigh escaped your lips.

"Jay, you can't have kids when you are just 17." You stated calmly. "You also can't get married at your age, you are too young."

It wasn't that you were saying it just because of Jay. You were saying that to yourself too. The reason why you had met 'The Park Family' in the first place was because you came from an old money family.

Your family owned a business, 'Baezen Corp'. An investment company that has been led by your family from various decades and generations. Your older sister was the first in line to take charge of the president position in the company, meanwhile your family still analyzed what position you would have under the business (if that's what you wanted), as you were still young and they still wanted to check if you were perfect for the family business… and with the way that your mother saw you, you found it a little far away.

"They didn't say when they plan to engage me with someone." He muttered under his breath.

You slightly shook your head in disappointment, trying your best to alleviate the bad energy that you had just provoked.

"Also, do you even have an idea of who you want to marry? What exactly do you look for in a girl?"

Jay, then raised his head to look at you. He parted his lips getting ready to start talking, as if he already planned what to say even before you asked the question.

"I'm looking for a girl that is sweet, a girl that looks like an exact representation of the moon, but that her personality is just like the very rays of the sun falling into the ocean waves." He proceeded to stare at you, looking deeply into your eyes, as if he could read your soul. Jay's cat eyes shone from enchantment, anticipation, almost as if he was under a spell.

A spell that you might have put on him, his gaze was enough to make your heart race, and to make your fingers tingle from excitement.

"I want a girl who is intelligent and has a passion for learning. A girl that smells like cinnamon spice and vanilla. I'm looking for a girl whose lips will taste just like an exquisite dessert. And lastly, her eyes have to shine like the moon reflects itself on the water when she looks at what she loves and desires… Just like you, right now."

His last words made you blink in shock, you hadn't noticed how hard you were staring at him. But it seemed that at some point you might have been under the spell that he had been just a few seconds before.

"Sorry, it's just that your description sounded so poetic, I didn't know you could be so romantic." "There are some things that you don't know about me." He smiled.

You cleared your throat before proceeding. "Where have you seen a girl like that, anyway?"

You saw the boy get closer to you, moving his seat right beside you. Then, he moved his hand close to your locks, moving them away from your face.

"It might surprise you, but I'm staring at her right now."

That was the moment that your breath got stuck somewhere around your respiratory system. As if you had forgotten all of a sudden how to breathe.

You had expected Jay to tell you all those things. Yes, he was a tease sometimes, but never intimate with his words.

"Jay."

For a second your lips parted, and you felt that you were getting closer to each other, as if your lips were to touch at any time. The boy creeped a hand down to your neck, causing small tickles on your skin. His eyes were now dazed, left with nothing but a small glimmer.

And then the phone rang, Jay's phone to be exact.

You both backed away quickly, and you nervously passed your hands on your skirt, as if you were trying to keep it clean.

"I-It's Sunghoon, we better hurry. Class is about to start." This time he didn't look at you. It was like he was ashamed or was simply just shying away from you.

"Yeah, you are right."

It wasn't a few hours later, when you were at their house that things got intense. You had asked Hoon to help you with some homework, but he told you something that you weren't expecting.

"I don't really remember any of this, but you can ask Jay for some help."

And that's how you ended up at their study room, with Jay right beside you, giving a quick eye to your chemistry book, before turning to the next page.

How was it that he smelled so good? Just like amber and citrus, a small touch of wood but also warm.

How was it that he caused you to want to crawl out of your skin? The fact that he wasn't bothered to help even though he had better things to do, was causing a small race in your heart.

"It isn't that hard, it's actually quite easy. You just have to identify the components and use the formula. The formula is not that hard either- Bae, are you listening?" He waved his hand in front of you, causing you to wake up from your trance.

"I thought I lost you there." You looked directly at his lips, the mark at the middle of the skin calling your attention. It was as if they were calling you, calling your lips. You wanted to kiss him.

You inhaled deeply, getting ready for what you were going to say.

"Can you finish what you started?" Jay looked at you confused. "What do you mean?"

It was now you, who got close to him. Your hand making itself comfortable at his cheeks, the naughty of your thumb rubbing the end of his sharp jaw.

"Can you finish what you started? Please." You said with a little plea in your voice, like your body was desperate for his lips.

Jay looked hesitant, but he didn't waste a second to pull the same move that he did at the restaurant. His fingers guiding themselves to your hair, and softly caressing it in a comforting way.

"If we kiss then, I don't think I will be able to stop." "Then don't, just stop until you've finished what you provoked in me."

And that's when it happened, when the soft flesh touched yours, how you felt them pressing against your upper lip. He then moved them trying to start a monotonous movement. You felt his hands then at the bottom of your hips, your skirt being the only thing that stopped them from touching your skin.

You both felt as if you were running out of air, so you slowly disconnected your lips from the other.

Your hand was still stuck to his jaw, and you stayed like that until you came out from your dazy phase.

"I-I have to go back home." You stood up from the sofa, grabbing your stuff and letting your feet lead you to the door.

A while after that, both you and Jay pretended that nothing ever happened, and getting close to each other caused certain things on your skin, you were way too nervous to be around each other.

The Park Brothers graduated high school and that just meant that they were a step closer to getting what their family wanted.

You followed their steps two years later, and even though they were occupied with college, they still had some time to enjoy with you. It wasn't the same as it was before, but it was still fun and joyful.

But, it wasn't until you were twenty-one that something happened. It wasn't disheartening, it was just weird and obviously unexpected. You knew that you had feelings for Jay, you couldn't deny it. It was the butterflies and pixie dust that you felt every time you were with him.

"Unnie? Is something going on?" You asked as you walked into the backyard. Your parents were sitting across the huge table that decorated the garden. Your sister, Juni stayed at a distance, like she was trying to keep the situation from getting more awkward. She wanted to be there, but not didn't really want to invade your space.

"Mom and Dad have something to tell you. We thought that it would be better if we stayed here so you could take fresh air." Juni softly grabbed your arm guiding you towards a chair that was just in front of your parents seat.

You adjusted the skirt of your dress, and then noticed the serious expression on their faces. Mr. Bae and Mrs. Gwan, two successful business leaders that were well respected by the public. These were their faces when they had a critical meeting, when they needed to be direct and strict towards some clients.

"Is something wrong?"

And that was the same expression that they taught you just by doing it themselves. Something that no client wanted to see, neither any single worker and worse, their own daughters.

"Dear, you know how important Baezen Corp is to us. It's been an essential part of our family for a long time, and the thing is that joining our hands with other companies wouldn't be a bad idea, especially if it means for the future of the business."

You frowned at your father's words. Not because you found it weird, but because you already knew all those things.

"I know, father. You've been telling me that ever since I have memory, but it terrifies me what you want to tell me."

Your parents glanced at each other. Getting ready to tell you the news.

"Darling, your sister is soon becoming the president of Baezen Corp. and that means that she is going to need a vice-president by her side to help her manage the company. And you've proven to us that you deserve that spot." Your jaw fell in surprise, you never thought that you would be vice-president for Baezen Corp. You thought that you weren't good enough, but your parents have now proved you wrong.

"Is it really? I can't believe this. Thank you so much, I promise that I won't fail you." You stood up from happiness, but your sister put her hands on your shoulders for you to sit back down.

"That's not all we have to say, dear. There's more to communicate, and we don't know how you'll react." The smile from your face fell.

"How I'll react? How I'll react to what?"

Juni gave them a short glance before they continued speaking.

Your mother cleared her throat. "Y/N, we've been talking a lot with The Park Family, about how we want our business to grow and how we want it to last for many years."

"And we thought that it would be better if we join our businesses to make a new branch, where the next generation of our family will be in charge. So, not only are our companies joining together, but also our families."

This was the moment where you knew what they were talking about, this wasn't about you taking the position of Baezen's future vice-president. This was about your family making sure that you kept on for various generations. That was when your father spoke up again.

"Dear, you are getting married to Park Jongseong."

There was a huge fog that fulfilled your mind, and it felt like the world was moving all of the sudden. You weren't ready to get married, and it wasn't because of Jay, it was just that you wanted to get married in your own will, with somebody you loved and that loved you back.

Your body went numb and you felt your legs shutting their nerves down, as if you had gone paralyzed by the shock.

"Y/N, you got to understand that it's all for a major good." The voice of your mother sounded so distant and incoherent, as if you were underneath the water. You could feel your sister's hand across your shoulders, soothing you into a state that was supposed to be calm, but instead you just felt confused and lost.

You didn't want to get married.

You could not get married.

Because…

Jay didn't love you.

At least, that's what you feared...

ACT TWO; And whether we're free-willed or predestined, clearly I've not learned my lesson, even now. Hope he doesn't strike me down.

For the following week, you were dazed, nervous and stressed. Your special task was to maintain a peace of mind that you simply didn't have at that moment.

It was as if your brain was on fire, you were full of a million questions that weren't being answered for you.

Did Jay know any of this?

Was he in the same state as you were?

Did he approve any of it?

Did he hate you?

The less that you wanted was Jay to hate you, you wanted the exact opposite. But you didn't want to force him to love you.

At the moment, you were at one of the tables from a luxurious hotel. It was a company party… Park Enterprises' party, to be exact.

You felt embarrassed to be there, but your mom's tightening grip kept you in that place, her fingers hurting the delicate skin of your arm.

How red would it be after that…

Your entire family was there, not only because they were friends, but because your engagement had a lot to do with it.

Hands went to a glass of wine that had been given to you by one of the waiters, you drank a few sips, enjoying the taste of grapefruit and kiwi that the alcoholic drink contained.

The clinking of a spoon against a wine glass was heard across the room. The Parks had rented the whole building just for this event, and even though it didn't seem pleasing for the management, it was beneficial for the hotel owners.

"Dear guests, I hope you are having a pleasing evening. Thanks for coming to the celebration of Park Enterprises' 60th anniversary." Mrs. Park wore a long black dress, it had small pieces of diamonds decorating the torso of the clothing, she wore long sleeves and her jet black hair was down.

She looked so young and happy, like she had just found a lucky charm for a special collection. She looked… Proud.

"But, we are not only here for that. We are here also, to celebrate something really important."

"Soon next year, our son, Park Jongseong will become the chief executive officer of Park Enterprises' Southern Branch." Those sudden words made your heart leap up to your throat. Jay was finally taking his family's footsteps and for some reason that got you scared. That could mean that you both wouldn't spend as much time together as a couple. You would be vice-president of Baezen Corp. and Jay would lead the Southern Branch as its CEO.

People clapped from joy, or maybe compromise, you could care less, but being at the party just made you wish for some fresh air.

Maybe it was because you couldn't keep your eyes away from Jay, he looked so elegant with his tux, not only that, but he also looked hot.

You walked away from the room, going towards the pool area, the water being an artificial blue, looking just like a blue flame. The area was big and nice, with a clear view towards the city lights of Seoul and its buildings. There were various pool beds, big and round with white sheets, but gray borders. You sat on one of them, right below a louvered roof that was connected to a wall.

The thought of Jay being your soon-to-be- husband was terrifying, not because you were marrying him, but because the thought of him hating you because of it was eating you alive.

But there was another thought on your mind. Your first kiss. It was with Jay, he was your first kiss, and for you, the fire that was coming up inside your body that day was coming back the moment you saw him with that tux, he looked so professional and mysterious, as if his aura was different.

Jay had always been confident, but this time it was different, he looked… powerful. Ready for everything and anything.

You caressed your exposed leg, eyeing the soft fabric of your white, short dress. You kicked off your heels, feeling them press against your ankle.

The water from the pool was moving, but in a calm way, you tried concentrating on it, trying to forget about everything that was going on. For one night you just wanted to relax and forget.

A shriek escaped your lips when you felt contact within your skin. It was a hand, and when you turned around, you fell deeply into that familiar and deep gaze.

"Why aren't you at the party?" You brushed Jay's hand off from your shoulder. "I needed some fresh air, it was a little bit suffocating in there."

Jongseong passed a hand through his hair, keeping it away from his face. "Are you okay? Be honest with me, Y/N."

No, you weren't okay, there was something strange building up inside you, the fingerprints of your hands wanted to touch him so bad, it was a necessity at that point.

"I'm okay, it's just… you know, things have been weird recently and it can be kinda overwhelming."

Jay knew that there was something that you weren't telling him, you were hiding something, and deep inside him, he wanted to uncover it and at the same time he wanted to kiss you so profoundly that you would both forget your names.

"You are lying, baby." He grabbed your chin, making you look at him. Jay needed you so bad, he was done hard for you, head over heels.

You inhaled before answering again. "I don't want to be your wife if you don't love me."

"This isn't about love, Y/N. This is about our families… but that doesn't mean that I don't feel something for you right now." Jay looked at your lips, they were glossy and red.

Beautiful, he thought.

"Do you love me, Ms. Bae?" You feared what would happen if you answered that question truthfully, and Jay did too.

"I don't, Mr. Park." You lied with an awkward smirk, you shamelessly lied, and somewhere inside him, Jay knew that you were lying.

And Jay swore that his heart shattered when he heard those words come out of your mouth. So, he came up with the next question.

"Do you lust for me, Ms. Bae?" His eyes turned dark with curiosity.

"I do, Mr. Park." You whispered underneath your breath. Your face being inches from touching. "Do you lust for me, Mr. Park?" You said feeling his lips almost brush yours.

"You already know the answer to that." And with that, he kissed you. And he did roughly, it was so rough that you grabbed his hair as your lips crashed against each other.

His hands moved towards your hips as they did the first time. He didn't want to ruin this, you didn't want to ruin this.

You loved each other and you knew it, but your biggest fear, for the both of you, was that your arranged marriage would kill off that passionate love that you felt ever since you were teens.

You both knew you lied, but it was better to know that lie than knowing the truth and then it being shattered.

And when he laid you on that bed, you both knew that this was the start of something new.

A beautiful and lustful lie.

ACT THREE; After everything you put me through, I somehow still believe in you.

Your heart was about to break through your chest, all because what was happening at the moment was completely unbelievable. When you were little, you always had this fantasy that you would get married to Jay, your parents always said it as a joke and to play around with you, but you never thought that it would actually become a real thing.

Because right now, you had Jay dressed up as a groom in front of you, his hair back, only a few strands in front of his face.

The way his warm hands held your cold ones, and the way you felt your heart fluttering because he was right there, in just a few minutes Jay was going to be all yours, your husband.

It was just the way that you felt your feet go numb by knowing that he was about to say his vows to you.

He looked so unreal and so elegant, but if you could be inside his mind in that instant you would've been overwhelmed by how overestimated Jay's brain was at the moment.

Jongseong thought you looked so beautiful, and the way you pressed your lips in nervousness was heartwarming. He knew that at heart he wanted to be with you, so bad. He'd never had such strong feelings for anyone before, in his entire life.

Seeing you right now, Jay realized how bad he wanted things to work out, how bad he wanted you to be his wife. But he was afraid, he was afraid to grow attached to you, because he was afraid that after this you would both end up heartbroken.

"I, Jay, take you, Y/N, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. I will love and honor you all the days of my life." He meant that last part, with his whole heart he meant it, how could he not love you.

But how can you love someone and also be afraid of loving them?

"I, Y/N, take you, Jay, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. I will love and honor you all the days of my life."

Your parents were watching, both of your families were watching how their kids were fearful to love somebody with such passion. How could you be able to survive something like this? Pretend you both didn't love each other just for the mere fact of fear.

The ring exchange was just around the corner and everything just felt more surreal, as if you were stuck in a dream, a dream that was magical, but also painful.

The rings were presented to you, Jay grabbing yours, a beautiful ring with a shining heart-shaped diamond on its center.

You swore you saw his hand change, but he was shaking in anticipation, in amusement. Jay held back a chuckle, trying to keep it cool, but he gave a quick glance to you with a nervous smile, lips sealed together.

"With this ring I, Jay, take you, Y/N, to be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know, I will respect your integrity and have faith in your abiding love for me, through all our years, and in all that life may bring us." Jongseong slides the ring on your finger, feeling the cold sensation of the sacred ring in your digit.

You gave him a warm smile, a smile that he dearly loved ever since he was a kid.

"With this ring I, Y/N, take you, Jay, to be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know, I will respect your integrity and have faith in your abiding love for me, through all our years, and in all that life may bring us." Now the both of you had a ring in your fingers that joined you together, you were now one and only one.

You could daydream a life with Jay, but you couldn't envision it in your day to day life. Not because you didn't desire it, because it all felt so unreal.

You were now getting married to somebody whom you were afraid to admit that you loved. And he was feeling exactly the same.

The both gave each other a glance, your eyes connected, not being able to pull them apart from the other.

"By the power vested in me by the state, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now seal your union and the promises you've made to each other this day with a kiss."

You looked at each other for a moment, this was it, you were now sealed by sacred union.

"May I?" Jay whispered.

You nodded your head with a shy smile on your lips. "You may"

The feeling of Jay's soft lips on top of yours was warm, candid, and sweet. Cheers from people could be heard from behind you…

From now on, you were husband and wife.

"This place is really nice, it's really pretty."

You had arrived at a hotel in Bali, something that your parents had planned, which was not a surprise. The flight was quiet and peaceful, Jay fell asleep on your shoulder, which caused your stomach to do weird tricks in you, you were more than nervous.

"I want to get to the pool first." Jay said placing your bags at a corner of a room. You felt his presence coming closer to you, his warmth betrayed him completely.

"So, can I call you Mrs. Park now? It has a nice ring to it." He placed his head near the crook of your neck, causing your skin to go ticklish that it made you shrugged. "Somebody's sensitive." Jay got away from your neck, but before getting away could do that, he placed a quick peck on your skin, which caused your cheeks to redden.

"And also shy."

He propped himself on the bed, his back resting against the bed frame. Jay took off his black leather jacket, letting it fall beside him.

You walked up to him, setting yourself on the large queen bed, sitting right beside him. "Can't believe I'm married to you." Jay murmured.

"Is that supposed to be a good thing or a bad thing?" You asked him with curiosity, he could feel your gaze on him. "I don't know, you'll have to figure it out." He turned his to the side to look at you, raised eyebrows, cocky expression. "You are such a tease." You whispered.

Something overpowered you, as you let your legs guide you to where your soul wanted to go. You found yourself resting on top of Jay, on his lap, your eyes looking at his lips and then looking at his sharp cat eyes.

You felt his hands naughtly making themselves comfortable on your hips, the right one rubbing your lower back, he roughly pulled you closer to him and you grabbed his shoulders adjusting your body to his figure.

"I want you to kiss me right now." His smirk was such a provocative point and the way he missed the taste of your lips made him want you closer to him. "I was already thinking about that."

He pulled you closer to him, your lips sealed against the other as he tasted your lips and the vanilla flavor they had. He continued to caress your hips in a caring manner and you finished the night with the both of you feeling the warmth of each other's skin as you hugged the other.

The sun fell through the window as you blinked trying to keep the sleep away, you got up to the bathroom just to wash your face and do your skin care before finally washing your teeth.

You heard the water running and knew that Jay was getting ready for work.

"Good morning!" You said with your mouth full of toothpaste foam. "Good Morning!" Jay responded as he washed away his soap.

You continued with your routine as the morning went on, you cooked breakfast and prepared Jay's lunch bag.

"Belle I'm leaving!" You heard his voice soon, noticing that he was already by the exit. "Wait, your lunch bag." You sprinted towards him.

"Thanks." You saw his sweet smile, being completely grateful for your efforts and your food.

He loved when you did that, when you cooked for him, but he preferred when he cooked for you, he loved doing things for you and it was slowly becoming a habit of his.

"See you at night." Jay pulled you closer to give you a quick peck in your lips, before caressing your cheek.

You saw him go away and you stayed at the frame of the door as you heard the engine go off and him driving away.

With that, you got ready yourself and packed your stuff to get ready to work. That was the way that you started your day ever since you got married, and you definitely liked it.

"Thanks as always, Heeseung."

You had gotten off from your car, whose driver was your secretary, Heeseung. He was new to the business, but he was organized and really respectful. He parked your car at the covered parking lot of the company.

The small sound of your sneakers pierced through the walls of the underground lot. You had Heeseung behind you, who wore a dark suit with a blue-patterned tie.

You walked right through the glass double doors that guided to the building offices, you checked yourself through the glass, making sure that your outfit was well arranged.

A satin primrose dress was adjusted to your body, but it kept itself away from your shoulders, a similar colored belt defined your waist, a pair of beige shorts hugged your thighs and a pair of platform sneakers covered your feet.

"Heeseung, please contact President Bae. We have a meeting with the council, do you think you can remind her of it?" The young man agreed, quickly taking out his phone to contact your sister.

"Good Morning, Mrs. Bae!"

"Good morning, Mrs." A pair of coworkers greeted you after they heard you walk through the doors.

You greeted back with a warm smile as you led yourself to your office. Heeseung opened the other set of glass doors for you, and then you left your bag on the desk to sit on the soft white leather chair.

It annoyed you that your mother had called just to tell you that she thought that your work could be better, that she was disappointed with your levels of work. Even though you slept late most of the time to make up for what your sister missed, and taking care of the arrivals of new clients.

Throughout the rest of your day, you checked the work of the staff and completed the work that your sister couldn't do at the time, you scheduled some meetings and at some point of the day you received a visit from a dear friend of yours.

"How's my Bellie doing?" Hoon was always occupied, ever since he took charge of The Northern Branch he was always taking care of something in the company building, not only that but, also overseas, it was like he lived farther away than before. He was always somewhere far, like the U.S, Europe, even other countries of Asia.

"Sunghoon, it's good to see you." You got up from your desk to hug him. He'd recently been in Los Angeles, to make a deal with a communication company for a further partnership. "I was just walking around the area, decided to pay you a visit." He ruffled your hair making it a small mess

You both sat down at one of the tables in your office, you offered an ice coffee with a dessert.

"I thought you would have a girlfriend already, you know, have settled down." "You know that I don't really want a relationship right now." Sunghoon had always been like that, he had always thought that he needed some time for himself before getting into a relationship. He felt bad for rejecting various girls, he wasn't capable of breaking their heart, but he wasn't gonna force himself into a partnership either.

"How's married life going?"

He bit down the glazed donut with strawberry jam filling, it reminded him of his childhood years and how much fun he had during those.

"Everything is going great, though I believe that we can improve some things."

You remembered how things were a few months ago, and how you had been feeling since.

The fact that your parents planned a honeymoon after your wedding was just perfect for you.

Jay was excited that day and you were more than him. After all, you were finally married, which sounded so weird to say out loud.

You spent a lot of time together, but back at home it wasn't any different. You stuck to each other for everything. If Jay was cooking, you were there, if you were working at the home office, he was there.

And the intimacy… was the way to compensate for the words that you feared to say.

But, you sometimes doubted if what you felt was lust, or if it was love. You knew there was love, but there was always some fear to express it. And that wasn't really healthy.

You thought that if you just kept it there, you would both be perfect as it was. You didn't want to ruin anything, because then…there was no turning back, there was no fixing anything.

And you didn't want to lose Jay, and he didn't want to lose you.

So, if that meant being inside each other's backburner, then you would do anything to keep him.

Sometimes it was sad, you wanted to hear Jay saying "I love you." You wanted to scream those words out loud.

A time later after having a conversation with Sunghoon, he left.

You got out of work, bring various documents with you. Waving goodbye to your co-workers, you got your phone out to contact Heeseung.

Your white nails clicked against the back of your cellphone. The fake gems in your fingernails shined because of the sun reflecting on them.

The phone rang a few times, but then it sent you to voicemail. You rang it a few more times, waiting for Heeseung to pick up, but he never did. So you called Haewon instead.

"Hey, Haewonie! Have you seen Heeseung? He isn't picking up my calls."

"Sorry dear, I haven't. He went out in a hurry a few hours ago, so I haven't seen him since." You then thanked her and hung up quickly.

A thought came into your mind.

Jay has picked you up before, but you didn't wanna bother him. It was wednesday, so I went out of work early that day.

You gave it a second thought before finally calling him.

You waited a few rings, before you finally heard his voice. "Hello?"

A sigh from relief came out of your throat. "Hey! How's everything going?" You asked, trying to be polite.

"I'm good, a little bit tired, but I'm heading back home. Are you there already?" A finger unconsciously rolled one of your locks, you continued playing with your hair as you enjoyed the sound of your husband's voice.

"About that… You think you can pick me up from the office? I don't know where Heeseung is, so I was wondering if-"

"I'll be there in a minute."

He interrupted you all of the sudden, making you smile warmly.

You waited a few minutes outside of the building, before seeing the characteristic car that was always parked in your house's driveway.

The windows lowered down, showing a Jay that was adjusting his blazer, unbuttoning his piece of clothing revealing his white shirt.

In your eyes, he looked handsome, like always, and you kept on wondering, how was it that you got married to such an attractive man. You forced yourself to get out of your mind maze, and then let your feet guide you to the car, straight up opening the door.

"Thanks for picking me up. Don't know what happened to Heeseung, he was supposed to be here." You murmured looking at your phone. "You don't need to thank me, I'm your husband after all, I'm supposed to take care of you." You shook your head in negation.

"You can't be taking care of me all the time. I can take care of myself." Jay squeezed your thigh and then proceeded to rub his hand against it, but you put your small hand on top of his and he took it as an opportunity to grab it and rub his thumb on the skin.

"I ordered some burgers, they come with cheeseballs if you were going to ask." He looks at you for a quick second before turning back to the street.

When you reached home, you got some comfy clothing and quickly sprinted into the kitchen to hunt down your food.

It wasn't surprising that Jay was there, he was taking out the plates from the pantry and he placed them on the aisle of the kitchen. You then sat on top of it, which was a common occurrence.

Jay turned back to the aisle to see you sitting on it. He liked the view, you were wearing his oversized t-shirt with a pair of shorts, it made you look cute, but he always thought you looked cute, he always thought you were beautiful.

"Alright, there's your food, young lady." He pointed at the plate. "Cheeseburger with extra cheese, french fries and with your favorite, cheeseballs."

"Thank you, young man." You bowed how you could with your position, but you then grabbed his hands and put them around your waist. "I should give you a kiss to repay you." You softly place your lips below his, all with the usual sweetness that you carried around with you.

"You should be careful, miss, or I will die from how cute you are." You felt your heart beat stronger than before, leaving a little blush in your cheeks. You turned away trying not to get disheartened.

Don't get too attached!

And when you and Jay acted as a couple, sometimes you wished that was your normal.

With that, the weeks passed and even though it seemed like you were newlywed, you soon turned one year of marriage, and obviously, Jay's family was already asking for a grandchild, his grandfather to be exact.

You visit often, with Jay or without him. You saw him as your own grandfather, he could be grumpy sometimes, but you quickly got why Jay was so sweet and caring towards you.

His grandfather was exactly the same.

You knew where he got it from.

"Shouldn't you be resting, papa?" You played your hands on his shoulders. "I have way too much energy to be in bed, darling."

"Shouldn't your husband be here with you, instead of you being here following me around." Jay chuckled, coming right to your side. "It's just that Y/N sneaks away from me, it doesn't mean that I don't want to be with her." Jay's fingers softly traced your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

"She's so sneaky that she's cute at this point." You could feel his breath right at your neck, tingles spreading through your body. "So cute that you seem heavenly to me." A blush went across your cheeks and your ears. You looked at him right in the eyes, his gaze was penetrative but it shone when he saw you, like little sparkles that flew around his orbs.

"When are you two planning on giving me a grandchild?"

You felt a shock of electricity attack your heart, it hit so hard that it made your heart beat like crazy, and for Jay it wasn't any different.

"We are still not thinking about that, we are trying to enjoy what we have right now."

"Then enjoy it quickly, I'm pretty sure that you two will have a little one running around our family house in no time."

And with that, things became a little bit uncomfortable on the way back home, you both stayed quiet for a while.

That was until…

"Do you wish to have children, Belle?" The question took you out of your thoughts, but it didn't surprise you after what had happened but at the family house.

"I-I mean, if you don't want to have children it's fine, I'll be fine with whatever you want."

His words stroke your heart, he wasn't forcing you to have kids just for his family's sake. He was dealing to go with whatever you wanted to go with.

And that's what moved your heart.

"Jay… I do want children, it's just- we just got married, we just turned a year and maybe we just need more time just for us."

Jongseong nodded at your words, and his hand stroked your naked thigh, sometimes reaching the fabric of your dress, but with your finger you tickled his knuckles causing him to chuckle.

He pulled the car towards the sideway, the tigles that he provoked on your thighs were starting to go through your body, his hands moved from your thigh to the flesh of your neck, he softly shifted you towards him, being careful with your spine.

Jay's breath could be felt on top of your lips, he leaned closer finally closing the space between you, he moved his lips with a soft pace, until you fought with his to make the movement rougher and passionate. The butterflies that were accumulating inside your stomach were too much to bear, so parted your lips from his, just to move your legs in a way that you would be on top of him, both legs on his side.

After that, you kissed him again, your tasty lips being his temptation and his sweet dream. Jay's hand caressed your waist, making you fully sit down on top of him.

And with that you both started that night with a passionate fire.

Maybe something within you made things uncomfortable between the two of you, because after that, Jay started to realize that maybe you would never have a normal marriage, you both knew about it, but throughout this time, he just became more subconscious about the topic.

Your footsteps could be heard from downstairs, even though you were barefooted. A black blazer staring at you from the living room, resting at the sofa… Beside it were a few oversized sweatshirts that you wore all the time.

The smell of sweet honey and orange juice could be smelled around the house. Jay likes that smell, it was his second favorite, right after your scent and the taste of your lips, that cinnamon scent.

Even though he could feel the smell of his breakfast go through his nostrils, he was actually in a hurry, he'd actually been in a hurry since a month ago. You hadn't had the time to speak to him a lot like before and that saddened you, really deeply.

You heard the sound of his shoes through the stairs as you packed his lunch bag. It contained pancakes covered in honey and caramel, and his lunch, which was pasta salad.

Jay was already near the exit, with his bag already packed, so you sprinted with his lunch bag in your hands.

"Jay, here's your food." You said with a smile, but his face didn't express the same, it was as if he was bored, mad to say the least.

"Yeah, thanks." He grabbed the bag and opened the door in a hurry. "I'll see you at night." And with that, he left. You heard the sound of the car engine turning on, and then it drove through the streets.

"See you at night."

You whisper sounds depressive, it even caused you to feel dizzy.

He didn't even say goodbye, he didn't kiss your cheek as he always did… That's how it had been a few weeks ago.

And you wondered why you expected it to be different. You thought about that moment in the morning the whole day, even in the office, you couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Has Jay not answered your calls?" Your friend, Haewon was right behind you as you dialed your husband's number for the fourth time.

"No, he's being really busy these days." You rubbed your forehead in a little bit of stress. Recently, you felt really tired, dizzy, nauseous even. You knew that an upcoming deal with a foreign company was coming up, and you were stressed out, so that could be provoking your symptoms. "You've been busy and you still bother to call, you should talk to him. Didn't you say that he was really distant recently."

Actually, you were both distant, work had a lot to do, but also the fact that you couldn't take it anymore. Even when you acted like a couple, not being able to express the love you had for each other was a real deal breaker.

The days that you felt like telling him how much you missed him, you stayed away. The days he felt like telling you how beautiful you were, he looked away. The days where you felt like finally telling each other how much you loved the other, you both parted away.

You weren't ready to be fond of him, yet. Even though you already had strong feelings for him. What if something happened and you ended up heartbroken? You weren't a conventional couple, you were arranged married, and your fears were so big that you were incapable of getting too comfortable with him.

The sound of the telephone hanging was just the thing you needed. The way your mom called once again was not a surprise to you, but it was still tiring.

"How can you be so incompetent, so stupid?!"

"You are such a failure, I don't know how you still work here?"

"Such a high position in the company and you're still a fucking idiot!"

"You look really pale, Y/N. Do you need me to bring you something to eat, drink?" "Do you think you can bring me a peppermint lemonade, Haewonie?" She nodded as you muttered a 'thank you'.

The sound of your fingers touching the keyboard was enough to cause you a big headache. You knew you could continue at home, but things were too tense there for you to peacefully work at any space of the house.

"Here's your lemonade." "Thanks, Haewon." Your hand grabbed the lemonade, taking a quick sip, enjoying the flavor of sweet peppermint, but sour lemons.

"With Hanni and Isa we are going to a brand new restaurant that they opened last week. We heard that they have great caviar and side dishes. You should come with us, have a girl's night, get your mind free from work and from everything going on at home."

You thought about it, and it sounded really fun, but the least that you wanted was to go out and then remember that you had a lot of work to do.

"I would love to, but I have a lot of papers to check on, and I need to get everything ready for the next meeting. You know that I would go if I could." "Yeah, don't worry about it. I'll make sure that next time you are completely free so we can all be together."

You nodded, thanking her for being understanding.

By the end of the day, you drove your car towards your home, with eyes heavy and a tremendous nausea that was also brought to you with dizziness.

You pulled the car away from the road as you felt a curious vile rise up your throat wanting to escape your mouth.

The car door was flung open with desperation, your feet touched the grass as you felt the vile free itself out of your mouth and go straight into the natural floor.

You gagged as you felt how the remains of your food choked you. You felt as if the air was being cut out for you and that you would stop breathing at any moment.

As you finished, you let out a sharp breath and wiped your mouth with the end of your sleeve.

A few tears fell down your cheeks and blurred your view. The thought of sitting right beside your car became true, you let your legs rest on the ground and the back of your head felt the cold material of the vehicle.

It was such a weird feeling, you'd never thrown up before ever since you were eight years old. You started to analyze how your health had deteriorated a few weeks ago, you thought it was just a bug, or maybe it was just the huge amount of work that was causing problems on your body.

You kept on saying that you needed to rest and that you would do it, but that never happened and you always postponed it.

With the little strength that you had, you managed to get to your car and let your head fall against the driver seat. You felt a little bit relieved as you felt the nausea wave get out of your body.

It took you about fifteen minutes to take a turn back home. You drove back slowly, trying your best to prevent your stomach from getting upset.

When you reached home, you noticed that Jay's car wasn't there yet, which meant that he wasn't back home.

You felt your muscles relaxed as you felt the water coming from the shower fall into your shoulders. You got into a comfy pink sweater and a pair of shorts that made your skin fuzzy. And you combed your wet hair feeling a sudden pressure at the side of your head.

The fingertips of your hands applied some weight into your head trying to stop the possible migraine that was bothering your tired body.

You went through the night trying to distract yourself from the discomfort that you felt the whole day. Even let your phone ring a few times trying to call Jay, but he never actually answered.

You didn't feel that much appetite, so you avoided making dinner for yourself and just focused on your husband's.

But you waited for him to get home, and even though the time passed he still wasn't there with you. And that was maddening, because the only thing that you wanted was him to be there.

The clock was pointing at 11:46, and just by then Jongseong was arriving. The sound of the door closing woke you up, you had fallen asleep on the couch.

At least my headache's gone.

Jay noticed that the lights were on, he knew that you were waiting for him. He didn't want you to do that, you had enough at work and you needed to rest. At least, one of you had to be well-rested.

You rubbed your eyes in an attempt to draw the sleepiness away from your body. The numb feeling, soon running away from your limbs.

He reached the living room, the first thing he saw was your exhausted figure. Jay wondered why you were still awake… Did you wait for him?

"Hey, why are you still up?" Jay put his bag down beside one of the sofas.

Even the question was maddening. He was back at home so late and you waited for him even though you had been so distant.

"I was waiting for you to arrive."

Jay sighed with disappointment. "You shouldn't be waiting for me." He blurted out, which kind of confused you. "Why?"

He smirked in annoyance, he wasn't annoyed at you, or maybe he was.

Jay wanted you to admit that you loved him, just as much as you wanted him to do the same for you. He wanted to break the cycle of lies, he wanted to stop pretending that he didn't love you. Why did you both have to lie to each other?

Because it was so obvious that you couldn't tolerate it anymore.

"Y/N, why are you acting like you actually care about me?"

You furrowed your brows in confusion, also in annoyance… How could he say that? And why would he believe that?

Hadn't you shown how much you cared for him?! Wasn't all you had done for him enough?

You couldn't believe what he was saying.

"What are you saying? Have I actually not shown how much I care about you?!" You kept your voice at a normal level, you tried not to raise your voice, you tried your best to take the situation away from the worst. "Stop lying, Belle! We know that we are both liars in this situation!"

"And that's what maddens me, because we fake every single thing as if our marriage came out of a normal situation."

Your breath shrieked in despair, as your heart continued to crumble as if it was a piece of paper that you could ruin. Why are you doing this to me? That was the only thought that could go through your mind.

Tears threatened to escape your eyes, you looked to the side trying to prevent them from going any further.

Jay just stepped up closer to you, his own heart breaking as well, just as it was beating against his chest.

He was nervous...

He was scared.

All because he felt that things were falling apart.

"You said that you didn't want to get married to me if I didn't love you… But you are still here."

Jay's hand was placed on your chin, his whispers were enough to break you, to tear you apart in a million pieces.

"I asked you if you loved me… you said no, but you never asked if I loved you." You tried to hold in your sobs, but your shaky breaths betrayed you.

Something inside you was falling apart in rage. Where was all of this coming from?

Why was he telling you all of this? Why now?

"You've already proven me why I shouldn't have asked…" You spat your words in fury. "You are asking me if I actually care about you, but…"

"Have you ever actually cared about me?"

You grabbed his hand and slowly got it away from your chin. If you ever feared about being heartbroken, now you are more afraid about what would happen next instead of what would happen in the moment.

"Y/N." Just hearing your name slip out of his tongue shattered your heart into pieces. He was heartbroken as well, he was hurt and he was more than afraid, he was terrified.

He was disappointed with himself.

"Get your shit together, Jay."

The remainder of the night was tense, it was quiet and a little bit disturbing. Jay couldn't sleep, he knew that he'd messed up and he fully understood why you were mad at the moment.

He completely let himself go because of the hardship that he was feeling. Jay hated it, he despised that he knew that you loved him, but you wouldn't say, and he also despised the fact that he knew how much he loved you but he wouldn't say anything.

Was this how it was going to be forever?

Pretending that you didn't have feelings for the other just because you didn't want to get hurt. For some reason, that decision was the best that you could ever take, at least that's what you both thought.

Nobody will get hurt if something happens.

That's just bullshit!

As he wrecked his head with thoughts, you laid on the sofa, with a navy blue blanket covering your body. The least that you wanted was to sleep in the same bed as Jay, you didn't need that at the moment.

Throughout the night, you thought about your relationship with Jay. You've known each other ever since you were kids, and you love him with your whole heart, he made you feel things that you never thought that you could feel, the thought of marrying him was far from your mind, but when your families engaged you, something inside of you thought that you could make things work, you wanted a future with him, but at the same time you feared that loving him would break you at some point, all because it wasn't at your own will and it wasn't that you married at each other because of love.

The problem was, that if you kept up pretending you didn't love him, you would just hurt each other, and it was already happening.

You didn't notice at what time the morning came, your body shut down the moment that those thoughts hit your head. The sound of the air conditioner going off got to your senses, you pulled the blanket off your body, and your neck was stiffened from the uncomfortable position that you slept on.

The cold floor sent shivers down your spine as your feet made contact with the tiles, you got up, walking immediately towards the bathroom near the living room. You walked quickly trying your best to avoid Jay, but also trying your best to keep the vile that was rising up your throat.

You reached the bathroom, hitting your knees with the cold tiles as you threw up inside the bowl, something that you found impossible because your stomach was empty.

A huff escaped your mouth, you cleaned your lips with the back of your forearm, getting up with weak legs to walk towards the sink. A sudden but quick ring consumed your ears, and it left as fast as it came, your senses were altered, almost distressed.

You didn't understand a single thing of what was happening with your body, but your mind always came up with the same answer.

It's just stress, you thought, you brushed your teeth. Your limbs were wobbly, almost numb… But you still made your way to the kitchen after you finished washing your mouth.

The feeling that somebody was close to you, came in. Your heart leaped when you saw Jay in the kitchen, his almost tan skin came across your mind, he always had that scent every time he was close.

He always smelled elegant, luxurious, even mysterious sometimes.

It felt like a temptation being so close to him. And the way you sat on the counter chair was not helping, you bounced your barefoot leg as you looked at the material of the kitchen aisle, not wanting to look at him.

But still, you could feel the heat of his skin near you.

"Drink some water, you need to stay hydrated if you are losing fluids." He left a glass of water beside your arm, on the counter. You didn't even dare to look at him, but by the sound of the furniture moving, you could see what he was going to do. "Do you have a stomach bug or something? Have you gotten that chec-"

"I don't know why you're asking me this? I thought you didn't care." You raised your head to look at him, his sharp eyes looking into yours, making you want to look away.

"Y/N, I didn't mean to make you feel that way. You know that I do care about you." He said trying to get a hold of your arm, but you pulled away from him.

Deep down you knew that he did, he cared and he cared more than what he showed you, but you couldn't be like this anymore, continuing a lie that would only hurt the both of you.

"Something inside of me tells me that you do. But you are so distant, and we keep on lying to each other as if that is going to solve anything, and we both know that isn't doing anything anymore." Jay sat straight after hearing your words.

"Jay… I, Why do I keep feeling like this isn't working out?." Jay stood up from his seat, he was impressed with your words, words that he didn't want to hear. "W-What do you mean?"

"We are hurting each other and that's the least that I want, and I know you feel the same… But we are so blinded by each others' company that we haven't noticed that we truly aren't doing anything for our relationship, and that says a lot." "I thought that maybe we could make it work, but I feel like I'm in the wrong, here."

Were you saying that you wanted to be away from him? Was he truly hurting you that bad?

Jay's mind was completely wrecked, he clenched his jaw trying to keep away his tears, just as you… he wanted to make things work, because he truly did see a future by your side.

You were all he wanted.

He was all you wanted.

But if that was what you wished, then he wasn't going to say otherwise, because that's how much he loved you.

"Maybe you are right, maybe this isn't working out, because I really don't wanna hurt you and I know that you don't want to hurt me."

Your heart broke, because you truly weren't expecting him to agree with you, you wanted him to fight for you and finally tell you how much he loved you, but your mind knew that he was going to agree with you.

"Being together just feels wrong at this point."

"But what if we make it work out." He said hopeful. "I don't know, Jay."

Your heart hit your chest with intensity, you were still hoping that things would get better, but at that point it just felt something completely impossible.

To be clear, you had to continue with your day as if nothing happened, pretending that your relationship wasn't crumbling down and your heart wasn't shattered into a million pieces.

Heeseung kept looking at your saddened expression, knowing that you were down, and he kept an eye on you throughout the ride to the office.

He asked a few times if you were okay, but you always responded with a smile, repeating that you were fine.

Even Juni noticed your state, you felt numb and confused, if you truly loved someone how could you suggest such thing. Maybe it was because you simply couldn't tolerate the fact that you were being lied to.

In comparison to you, Jay was stressed. He didn't want things to go this way, you were everything that he dreamed of, and ever since he was a kid, he imagined a future with you. Yes, he was in a relationship with you, but it wasn't what he had always wished for.

He wanted to be one of the reasons you smiled, not one of the reasons why you hurt. Jay couldn't concentrate on his work, and he couldn't stop thinking about how hungry he was. Shit, he truly did miss your cooking!

You placed a foot on your doorstep and you felt the need to throw up, it was becoming a normal occurrence, it had happened twice at work, and that was the second time you did it at home ever since the morning.

The sink water was heavy for your stomach, but really cool and nice for your face, you washed it a few times, before finally heading out of the bathroom and getting into some comfier clothes.

It felt so nice when you got off your pleaded skirt and your white shirt, your tennis shoes were also a little bit tight, but you didn't pay that much attention to it.

Just when you were rising up your shorts, the bedroom door opened, revealing a tired Jay, trying to take off his tie. He turned his head to the right out of impression, feeling a little bit nervous .

Embarrassed, you quickly pulled your shorts up, lowering your head in a timid manner, before heading towards the door. "Sorry, I shouldn't even be ashamed, but this is very uncomfortable."

"Don't be sorry, I should've knocked." You brushed his fingers in reassurance. "None of us should be sorry, we've seen each other naked, anyways." You mentioned the last thing, in an attempt to make things better.

Jay looked in your way, just as you started to let go of your shyness. You noticed how his tie was hanging lower, and some of the buttons of his shirt were open, showing a little bit of his chest and the marks of his clavicles. He saw your black hair covering some parts of your arms, tank top that showed a slight part of your abdomen, and the cotton gray shorts that covered your thighs.

His skin looked beautiful with the dim warm light of your bedroom, and his fingers slightly brushed with your skin. You didn't notice that you were so close to him, how his gaze softened when he looked into your eyes and you noticed the little line at the middle of his lower lip, you always liked it, he had it since he was in high school.

Jay felt the blood rushed through his veins as he felt you closer to him. You could only think that if those were going to be the last days that you spent together as a "normal" couple, you should at least be able to feel his skin a few more times.

"Why do I keep feeling that this is wrong?" He murmured, as you got so close that you could feel his warmth breath. "At least, if I'm going to hurt while we are together, I wanna do it right." You whispered in his ear, looking at him once again. "I don't want you to hurt, Belle." His hand caressed your cheek, pretty fingers lingering on your skin. "But I want you to love my body, as if you just hurt me."

There had always been a difference between lust and love, even though you both didn't express the love for the other, you always felt a feeling of lust towards him, just like he did for you.

Maybe your relationship wasn't working out, but you felt a magnetic reaction towards him, something that made you look his way even if things were going wrong.

That was the lustful feeling that consumed your body.

"...At least just tonight, Jay." You whispered, knowing deep down that if you had sex with him that night, it would become a cycle until you finally came to a conclusion of what you wanted to do with your relationship. Your breath was hitched, as the air going through your lungs was heavy and slow. "You sure that's what you want?"

You felt his lips brush against your forehead, his palm making contact with your wrist.

"Yes."

His lips kissed your forehead, just for him to go down and focus on your neck, he gave tender kisses on that area of your skin, sometimes he sucked the points that he knew were sensitive.

You could only grab the ends of his hair as you felt those nice sensations, and how some of your senses started to blur a little.

Sometimes, your tummy felt butterflies flying around as he kept a hand on your neck, now paying full attention to the soft flesh of your lips, kissing them hard, leaving them red and kinda swollen.

You leaned on a wall, letting all of the feelings come to you, his kisses, how his hand was grabbing your neck, while the other kept itself on your waist.

Your tricky hands grabbed his tie, looking into his eyes knowing very well that his heart had just skipped a beat just like yours already did. You somehow undid his tie, throwing it to the side, and then proceeded to unbutton the rest of his shirt, leaving the top of his chest uncovered, his pretty skin glowing because of the beads of sweat.

"You are going to be the end of me, Belle." Jay whispered, kissing you once again, keeping his hand in your neck, as you placed yours on his shoulders, slowly taking his blazer off, letting it fall on the floor.

That night, you knew that this was going to be a common occurrence until one of you had to break off the relationship.

Because the morning after that, Jay offered to take you to your office, just for you to hook up in the car before he finally drove you off to your workplace.

When you arrived back home, you would both make out as if it was the last time that you would see the other.

You hurt most of the time, feeling that this was the most that you could have with, sexual intimacy just to compensate for the hurt that you felt, and the sadness that would consume you.

For the next few weeks, this was your new normal, you would both have a few words before you finally had intimacy. And clearly, to be honest, Jay's heart ached with sorrow, but also passion.

How was it that you could make your intimacy work, but not your relationship?

That's what he always wondered for the past few weeks.

A few days before your family reunion, you arrived home late, and you noticed that Jay was there already, his car parked on the sideway.

When you entered the house, you took off your shoes at the entrance. You brushed your hands with your skirt, because of how could it was outside, you threw up on your way back to your house, so the air had definitely affected a little bit of your body

Then, you heard it.

"I really don't want to get a divorce, but I feel like this isn't working out."

Jay wanted to say how much it hurt him that he could feel your body with every single touch, but not your heart.

"Y/N said she knew things weren't working out, and I know she's hurting because of me, and that's the opposite that I want for her."

"I want her to be happy and to not stick to a relationship that will only burn us down."

You didn't know what was worse, the fact that your relationship was now based on just sex, because you wanted a part of him to be with you, or was it the fact that Jay wanted you away from his life completely.

What hurt more was the fact that he mostly was doing it because of you, and you weren't going to beg for him to stay, because you knew that you needed to be apart.

"You want a divorce?"

Jay heard your fragile voice coming from the living room, he knew there was no turning back now.

He hung up the phone, surprised by you and your sorrowful expression.

"Y/N…"

"You don't have to say anything, I understand." You would be lying if you said that your heart wasn't shattered, and that there weren't tears slipping down your cheeks.

Until then, you would love your bodies, as if you had just hurt the other.

That's what you thought it would be.

Because you both just did.

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