#excuse me are those arms even real

[meisphuong]

These (old and unreleased) photos just shared by some Liberal MPs on Twitter are...🥵

We are not ready for Justin in his private citizen era 🙂‍↔️🥵

[waywardsalt]

bc its been bouncing around in my head i think another little tiny grievance i had with totk is that i got to the end and just felt a sense of ‘well what the hell was that all for then’

[d3stinyist1red]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀɪᴛʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

yan celebrity who everyone likes and adores

yan celebrity who you texted for no reason at all, it wasnt even that bad it was just

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Y/nis_daddysigma

wsg lil bro

nice clothes 🙏

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yan celebrity who decided to check his insta messages that day, scrolling through the thousands of messages his fans sent him until he randomly picked one

yan celebrity who decided to respond to you

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Theyluvme

thanksss :3

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yan celebrity who immediately begins texting back and forth with you, you were SHOCKED ASF bc why is this random millionaire tryna keep convo with you..

yan celebrity who you managed to captivate within a small moment of time, immediately trying to text you every second of his day, kicking his feet back and forth when he texts you

yan celebrity who is hooked, waiting for your messages back, feeling so good when he hears that familiar buzz from his phone signalling that his wifey texted him

yan celebrity who thinks about you 24/7 now, thinking about who you were with, if they were a bad influence, if he should install more cameras in your house,

yan celebrity who literally fantasizes about your guys future, he decided that he WAS gonna carry your baby he does NOT care

Yan celebrity who can't handle it anymore, needing to be near you in real life, and not just him stalking you

yan celebrity who meets you the first time in real life after all those face time calls and texts messages, literally clinging onto you a koala, LITERALLY HIS BODYGAURD HAD TO PULL HIM OFF YOU😭😭

yan celebrity who gives you VIP tickets every time he has a concert, literally rambling about you to his bodyguard who wants to go home ( BODYGAURD does NOT get paid 😭🙏🙏)

yan celebrity who instantly notices you in the crowd, waving at you, heart pounding against his chest and performing his best at the concert to impress you

yan celebrity who escorts you backstage, and hovers WAYY too close to you, trying to find any and every excuse to touch you (he smacked your ass and told you that he saw a fly on it and he wanted to kill it, there was no fly 💀)

yan celebrity who anytime you try to put some distance between you both, pulls you even closer, giving you more attention, more of him

yan celebrity who literally cries when you finally decided to jerk him off, watching TikTok on your phone as he crumbles into a whimpering mess, arching his back and everything in front of you

Yan celebrity who buys you anything and everything you want, taking you to many country's every week saying that 'Dont worry about it, baby! I just feel like I should do this for my wifey!' (he thinks you guys were married as soon as you jerked him off, you've literally told him you only helped his problem bc he was about to perform and he wasn't gonna be able to perform with his full potential if he was 🧱)

Yan celebrity whose hands always lingers on your arms, loving to squeeze and hold them as a way to show his love and clingyness for you

Yan celebrity who texts you corny shit

--------------------------

Theyluvme

bae this is ur sign to breed me

Y/n_daddysigma

get the fuck out my dms bro

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I_luvy/n_pls_eatmeout_n/n

Y/nis_daddysigma

bro just put the ketchup packets in the bag bruh

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I_luvy/n_pls_eatmeout_n/n

pls eat me out

pls edge me

pls

pretty pls

im going to touch you so good tonight

Y/nis_daddysigma

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GUYS I GOT LAZY ASF LMAOOO

[retrosabers]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐌𝐄’𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌.

logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: the scent of you is driving logan crazy.

contains: mild 18+ content. MINORS DNI. mentions of masturbation (m&f), a steamy little make out, and implications of future smut

word count: 1.8k

a/n: not me trying to capitalize off the hugh jackman renaissance and revive my dead blog…anyways, this is my first time writing for logan! hope you all enjoy <3

i feel like we don’t talk enough about logan’s enhanced sense of smell.

the man can catch a whiff of someone the second they walk into the room, even the building sometimes if their scent is strong enough. it’s especially heightened when he realizes he’s attracted to you. at first he thought maybe it was because you were always wearing perfume, the aroma lingering around the mansion wherever you traveled. but then it became such an intense, all encompassing sensation that he knew it was something deeper.

his suspicions are confirmed one night as he walks past your room. if the faint whimpers he heard weren't enough confirmation of your activities, then the scent that fills his nostrils seals the deal.

you’re touching yourself. and he can smell your arousal.

it makes something stir in his stomach. the animal-like urges he always tries so hard to keep at bay threaten to make their way to the surface the longer he stands frozen in the hallway. logan attempts to shake the heat that spreads across his skin as he makes his way back to his own room, but it only ends with him cumming hard into his hand an hour later.

the next day, when he catches you on your way out of charles’ office, you offer him the same kind, beaming smile you always did. then that damned smell fills his nostrils again and his fists curl at his sides once you’re out of eyesight.

there’s only one explanation for it.

you’re ovulating.

which means there’s no escaping his desires unless you stay out of reach.

so for his sake and yours, he decides to just avoid you completely until the week is over. he can’t risk caving to those urges and doing something stupid and irrational.

of course you’re completely oblivious to it. you think that he’s just being weird, going through another rut of being a standoffish loner like he was when he first arrived at the mansion. because after about a week, he’s back to being a bit friendlier, to being the logan you had grown to call a close friend.

then the cycle seems to repeat itself and you notice it’s just you he’s avoiding.

you try and wrack your brain to think of anything you could’ve done to warrant this kind of isolation. you hoped if something upset logan he would just talk to you about it instead of playing this childish game of hot and cold.

after a couple months, you decide you’ve had enough.

cornering him was a difficult task. but you were observant enough to know certain parts of his routine, including exactly when he would be lingering in the common areas after all the kids had gone to sleep. after two failed attempts of trying to catch him in the kitchen, you finally managed to find him alone and unsuspecting.

“why have you been avoiding me?” you blurt, wanting to cut right to the chase. you’re expecting him to flinch a little bit, perhaps even be stunned.

but he knew you were coming. logan knew it was only a matter of time before you noticed his schtick.

still, he decides to look for an excuse, any excuse, to cover up the real reason.

“m’not avoiding you” he grumbles halfheartedly around the rim of a beer bottle. taking an extra long swig, he finally turns to look at you; leaning against the doorway with your arms folded and a look akin to annoyance plastered across your pretty face.

you cock your head to the side, clearly unimpressed with his answer.

“a few days ago, i watched you back out of a room the minute you realized i was in it,” you start to list off, counting with your fingers. “last month you avoided the wing where the gym was altogether while i was going through a new training regimen.”

logan winces at the memory. the scent of your pheromones was intoxicating. so much so that he couldn’t step foot anywhere near the gym without feeling like he needed to rub one out.

“and the month before that,” you huff out a sad laugh, voice suddenly soft and quiet. “you didn’t even say goodbye before you went off on that mission with scott and jean.”

guilt overtakes him quickly at the pain in your tone.

you’ve never looked smaller as you pick at a loose thread on your sweatpants. “did i do something wrong?”

“no,” logan reassures, jumping out of his seat at record speed, though still trying to maintain some distance. “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“then what is it? you sigh exasperatedly, desperate to put an end to this nagging feeling that’s been eating away at you. “logan, you know if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.”

and he wants to. he so badly wants to, maybe even see if you’ll offer to help him out. but you’re you. the sweetest, kindest thing he’s ever known and he’ll be damned if he lets his curse of a mutation ruin whatever relationship the two of you have.

but then you’re inching closer and his skin starts buzzing again. his senses are consumed by you. by the way you look up at him with big, wide eyes, the softness of your skin as you reach to place a comforting hand on his forearm. it's all too much, and he finds himself pulling away from you with a grunt.

it hurts to see him retreat from you so aggressively. his jaw is clenched tight, his fists at his sides even tighter as the veins in his arms bulge bigger than you’ve ever seen before. he looks pained. like he’s fighting something internally.

“logan,” you approach him cautiously, unsure of what exactly to do. “what’s going on?”

his eyes squeeze shut at the sound of your voice. “just, please go back to your room.”

“i’m not leaving you like this.”

“m’not asking you,” he grits out, almost like a growl. “i’m telling you. go back to your room.”

now he was starting to piss you off. you narrow your eyes, leaning your hip against the counter.

“or what?”

suddenly he’s crowding your space, chest heaving up and down as he stares at you with pupils so wide his eyes are nearly black. logan’s voice is scarily level when he utters his final warning.

“or i’m gonna do something i regret.”

when you shift closer to him, his nose twitches with a sniff. the raise of your brow doesn’t go unnoticed, and he knows that you’re not leaving this room until you get to the bottom of what he’s been hiding.

that’s when something inside logan decides to throw caution to the wind, just for a minute.

“i can smell you.”

curiosity morphs into confusion at his admission. you shake your head.

“i don’t understand.”

then, the man’s gaze travels to the waistband of your pajama pants, the tension in his jaw growing more taught by the second. his hands flex at his sides, trying to keep him grounded and calm as he finally admits what’s been driving him mad.

“i can smell you.”

the emphasis on the last word takes a minute to register. logan watches as the gears turn behind your eyes, catches the exact moment of realization as your gaze softens and your lips part.

oh.

oh.

slowly things start to piece together. how logan’s behavior seemed to fall around the same time these past couple months. a few weeks before your cycle.

he wasn’t avoiding you because he was angry, or upset. he was avoiding you because you were fucking ovulating.

logan expects you to flee, to be completely weirded out and steer clear of him for the foreseeable future. what he’s not expecting, is the words that come out of your mouth.

“i can help you with that if you want.”

you say it with such nonchalance, such casualness that he wonders if you’re even really grasping what you’ve said.

the wolverine shakes his head. “trust me, you don’t want this.”

he doesn’t quite believe his own words as he watches you close the distance between your bodies. something you’ve been desperate to do for as long as you can remember.

the thin fabric of his tank top and the soft cotton of your t-shirt is the only thing standing between you both. your chests are mere centimeters from touching and logan can feel the heat radiating from your bodies as his confession hangs heavy in the air. then that fucking smell comes back tenfold and he groans.

“you don’t get to make that choice for me,” your voice is sickly sweet, dripping with desire as your fingers ghost over the waistband of his jeans. he feels like a horny teenager as he preens at the barely there contact.

logan breathes your name, a last stitch effort to get you to run, though he knows it’s futile. if there’s one thing he knows about you, it’s that you're stubborn. unmoving in your ways.

and that when you want something, you don’t stop until you get it.

your hand comes up to cradle the side of his face, a rather gentle touch he wasn’t anticipating. his eyes flutter shut as you swipe your thumb over the expanse of his cheekbone.

your words are barely above a whisper. “i trust you, logan. completely.”

that’s all he needs to hear before he throws any sense of self control out the window.

he surges forward and captures your lips in what is possibly the most heated kiss you’ve ever experienced. you nearly stumble over at the sheer force of it. logan’s large hands fly to your waist, yours to the back of his neck as his tongue prods for entrance into your mouth. it’s messy, almost primal as you let him ravish you like he’s been thinking about for weeks.

you moan and he swallows the sound greedily, desperate to hear it again, and again, and again. when his lips move to press against the column of your throat, you know this is going to escalate into exactly what you hoped it would.

“logan,” you breathe out as he focuses on your pulse point, his hands wandering further south to knead at the globes of your ass. “not here.”

“why not?” he mutters, all smirky and smug as he continues to press wet hot kisses against your neck.

“because i would prefer if you didn’t fuck me where our friends eat.”

he laughs, a deep vibration felt against your chest as you absentmindedly grind your core against his. it makes him bring his mouth back up to yours, stealing one final kiss before he pulls away.

looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. and by god you might just let him.

pressing a playful smack against your backside, he gently nudges you in the direction of the corridor.

“lead the way sugar.”

thanks for reading! <3

[yougavememyopia]

Continuation of this. A bit suggestive at the end.

Loser yandere was on his knees, begging for forgiveness. He got ahead of himself. Sucking your fingers like a perverted freak. He looked up at you with glassy eyes, pouting just slightly. He didn't mind your pity. In fact, he wanted it. The worst he made himself look, the more you let things pass.

You sighed, ultimately having no choice but to forgive him. He looked so sad, so lonely. Like a stray puppy begging for attention. Why wouldn't you spare his feelings? He had no real friends. It made sense that he didn't know how to act properly.

Except he did. He was just manipulating you, saying the right things to make you cave and hang out with him. He would speak with a certain depressed tone that would melt your heart, and when you agreed, he would become extremely happy. Cheering and overreacting. A great excuse to excitedly hug you. Throw his arms around your shoulders and get lost in your scent.

He was strangely smart. Using both negative and positive reinforcement. Getting you to say yes to avoid making him sad, and making you feel content by his contagious smile. All part of his plan that'll eventually end with you two happily engaged.

Even if that strategy didn't work, he'd just whine and beg. He knew you couldn't take it. You would glare at him, and he'd feel a strange sensation through his body. Sometimes, he wondered how being hit by you would feel like. Or maybe with your hand wrapped around his throat.

Given how much he bothered you, it was a miracle you were still friends with him. It wasn't all that bad. You somehow had fun hanging around with him, laughing at his silly jokes. He'd take you to so many places. Always making sure you were enjoying your time so you'd come back for more!

When you weren't in public, he'd get clingy. It was obvious he was touch-starved and a big attention seeker. He wanted to have you touch him, get close to him, and pay attention to him. Only him.

"I can't get this stupid button undone... Can you help me take this shirt off? Come onnn, it's way too hot in this room..."

"Look how good I smell. Come on, sniff my neck. It's a new thing I bought. It smells like your favorite!"

"I'm so hungry, and my hands are all tired. Ughh.. Can you feed me a snack? I'll open my mouth wide for you. Aaah~"

He'd still bug you about the kiss. Not ever talking about the incident afterwards. Those few months of reinforcement should've made you softer to him. He should've been able to get you to agree. But you stayed determined to deny him.

"I want a kiss already... Why can't you, my bestest friend, show me how it feels~? All of these movies have one. I'm being reminded of how much of a loser I am every single day." He grumpily said to himself as you both watched a weird horror movie. The scared couple on the screen made out to relieve their stress... or something. It was a strange movie he (purposely) picked.

"Can't you fucking understand?! It'll change this whole relationship. I told you that a million times." You crossed your arms, darting your gaze from the movie to him.

He sighed. You sighed. Then you exchanged a look. "Alright. Fine. You're not gonna stop asking, are you? Just promise me you won't act all awkward after it."

He lit up, nodding eagerly. "Really?! Oh, wow! Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou! You're the best! Seriously. A life saver~"

"Shut it." You groaned, watching the last bits of the movie with the characters escaping.

"Yes, ma'am. You got it." He climbed on your lap. That made you stiff a bit, looking at him with a confused look. He set his legs on your sides, his arms wrapping around your neck. "How is this gonna work? Can you please do it very slowly?"

"Eh...? Okay. Whenever you're ready." You wrapped your arm around his waist, not knowing what else to do with them. He hummed happily. His face came closer to you, and somehow, you felt nervous. You shrugged it off, letting him kiss you at his own pace.

"Here I go..." he whispered, his nose rubbing against yours.

He pressed a small peck on your lips as if to test out how it feels. Before you could correct him, he kissed you again. This time longer and harder. You squeaked at the suddenness, forced to lean back against the couch as he began to lick your lips, asking for entry.

You reluctantly opened your mouth, and he wasted no time. Pushing his tongue inside your mouth. Lapping at anything he could find. Your tongue brushed against each other, eliciting a moan from him. His hand held the back of your head to keep you from pulling away. Shifting a bit on your lap, whimpering against your lips.

He kept licking your tongue, sucking on it. He moaned again when you finally returned the kiss. His movements were clumsy, making it easier for you to take control. After a minute, he pulled away, panting as he buried his face into your neck. He seemed embarrassed, and so you hugged his waist tighter.

He moaned against your neck. "Ah.. that felt so nice. Mmh, shit..."

"Yeah... you got a little ahead of yourself, y'know. It was supposed to be a simple kiss. I never said tongue was allowed." You pointed out. Rolling your eyes, because you knew he didn't care.

"You never said it wasn't." He sat up to look you, tilting his head innocently. "I would've listened to you if you said it."

"No, you wouldn't have." You mumbled.

"You also didn't say I can't go for another one~!" He leaned in again and captured your lips in another kiss. You protested, hands gripping his shoulders now to push him away. He whined, sucking your lips as if that would change your mind. "But, please, just one more. I still haven't learned the proper technique yet."

You were beginning to understand that he had a different reason for overstepping boundaries. The way he kissed you, the way he tried to savor your taste, the way his pressed his body against yourself. It was like he was trying to devour you. Trying to be one with you.

He moaned loudly when he pulled away. His body was shaking a bit, his eyes dilating. Something pressed against your stomach. You didn't need to look down to see what it was. "Um... Oops?"

[delphi-shield]

— 「 FLASH FIRE 」

lighter lorenz x reader — 2.8k — mdni summary: it’s reciprocal - lighter helps out with your car, you fuck him in the back seat. everybody wins. content: unprotected sex, forgetting to pull out, creampie, titsucking, hair pulling, brief mention of fisting.

You're running out of excuses.

You had traded favors and supplies for car maintenance for months now. Strictly business, at first, but the aimless teasing had quickly evolved into flirting, and the flirting had rapidly shifted to something more physical. Soon, your car became plagued with all kinds of problems, both real and imagined. Lighter had even let you get away with asking him to change your tail light. He didn’t even seem to realize what you were up to - not at first, anyway.

In reality, Lighter's had you figured out ever since you called him to check your tire pressure. You don't really need his help for most of this stuff, but he puts on a good show when he spreads his tools out in your garage. Your eyes always drift to his biceps when he hefts up the hood of your car. He braces a hand against the side, leans his weight into it, and you're torn between gawking at the way he peers down at the guts of your car, appraising, or the way his ass is squeezed into those jeans, hips cocked, heavy boots tapping against the garage floor.

It usually ended up in the backseat of your car -- or on the hood, or pressed up against the side. You had started stashing condoms in the center console.

“Need me to change your oil?" He offers one day, cutting off the way you're grasping at straws, floundering to keep him on the line. "It's about time."

Was it? You didn't know. You assumed he didn't either, figured he'd show up, check the mileage, and shake his head. Not quite time yet - but that's all right. He already came over, so he can find something else to work on.

But when he rolls up to your place he's got oil and a catch pan in hand. His jacket is discarded on the back of his bike, leaving him squeezed into a white tank top. He pats your arm as he walks by, eyes gleaming behind his sunglasses. Your surprise clearly delights him.

You plop into the back seat while he works, peppering him with offers for his service. Faint guilt swirls in your gut. You hadn't expected him to actually work on your car today. You could pick up his groceries when you ran into town, or help the Sons out with planning for Settlement Days. Each offer was barely considered, dismissed by a muffled ‘nah’.

It turns out the benefits of hooking up with Lighter include free car maintenance.

“You're all set,” Lighter says, slapping his hands against his thighs as he stands. He rounds your car to tower over you where you sit. Your legs swing, hanging off the edge, scuffing against the floor.

You spread your legs for him to step between — force of habit. Can't help but spread ‘em when Lighter steps up like that, when his hands brace against the top of your car and he sways down. He steps between your legs, nudging your knees wider with a powerful thigh.

“How am I going to pay you back?” You sigh dramatically, stifling a giggle. Lighter pretends to think for all of three seconds.

“A kiss?”

“That's all?”

“You're right. Two kisses.”

You grin. You can do better than that. You grab the front of his shirt and tug him down. He ducks past the door, laying you back against the seat. His kiss is languid, smiling against your lips as you laugh. You pull back to take his sunglasses off, noses bumping. You fold them closed and set them in the front seat, half-sitting up to reach.

Lighter takes advantage of the way you stretch, the column of your throat bared to him, ripe for his kisses to darken you skin. He sucks a mark beneath your jaw as you lay back into the seat. His hand slip up your shirt, palms lighting a warm path against your skin.

You roll up off of the seat, tits pressing into his chest. Lighter rolls your shirt up, separating from your neck briefly to fling your shirt outside of the car. His body covers your again, pressing you back to the seat. His scent, earthy and mouthwatering, infused with a tinge of oil and sweat, blankets you as he noses against the hollow of your throat.

You flip open the center console, searching sightlessly for a condom. Lighter works your bra off to paw at your tits, taking a moment to appreciate the weight in his palm before he latches on and sucks. His teeth scrape against your hardened nipple and you keen, back arching, pressing his face deeper into your breasts.

"Fuck - relax. Milk's not gonna come out," you grumble, free hand fisting tightly in his hair.

Lighter moans. He pops off one tit, dropping a sloppy kiss to the valley between your breasts. His knee slides up firmly against your pussy, grinding against you until you catch onto his rhythm and do it yourself. He's got that smug look on his face when he licks up your other, neglected breast, tongue lapping at your skin but lips never sealing around you.

You tug at his hair. Another moan, louder, more whiny. Your clit pulses against the seam of your jeans, and he finally commits to sucking your tits again.

Christ, you've got to find that fucking condom.

You sift through old receipts and miscellaneous bits and bobs blindly, struggling to find that elusive, crinkly little square. Lighter's hands slide down your sides, squeezing the dough of your hips tightly. He flicks the button of your jeans open, drawing his leg back to wiggle your pants halfway down your thighs. He palms your cunt through your panties and whines again, tremulous and pitiful.

"I'm so damn hard," Lighter groans. He drops his forehead against your collar bone, warm breath puffing against your skin. A searing heat blooms in your belly.

“Do you have a condom?” You blurt out. You can’t keep fumbling around like this - you need him now.

Lighter’s hand squeezes you, middle finger trailing against your clothed slit. He keeps one hand stroking your pussy while the other reaches behind him, patting the pockets of his jeans. He swears under his breath. His finger taps just over your clit - using your pussy like a damn fidget.

“I’ll pull out.” That’s his genius solution.

You should say no. You should offer to blow him, or let him fuck your tits, or anything other than the tried and true pull out method, but Lighter dips his fingers beneath your panties, presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and rolls. Sparks ignite in your veins. His finger teases your entrance. He only has to press gently into your before your greedy cunt tries to pull him deeper.

You grit your teeth. The promise of more makes you whine. Fingers won’t be enough. He could take his time finger fucking you open until he could fist you and it still wouldn’t be enough. You need his cock and you need it now.

“Okay,” you breathe out, face warming. You shouldn’t be agreeing to this. Even Lighter seems surprised. He picks his head up from your chest to meet your eyes, brows arched. You melt under his watch, body puddling against the seat. You roll your hips. His thumb stays steady against your clit, lets you roll yourself against his hand.

If he wants to ask if you’re sure, he loses the will when you squeeze around his finger.

He’s got more patience than you. Lighter presses kisses along your jaw, murmuring “okay,” as he slips down your body. He nips at your neck while his finger strokes through your soaked cunt. You try to spread you legs wider, to accommodate the fit of his hips, but your knees are trapped by your jeans, still hanging on for dear life.

You kick your foot and whine, your pants flapping comically. Lighter laughs. He struggles to pull them down further with just one hand.

“Hold still,” he murmurs, shifting awkwardly in the cramped back seat. His chest presses against yours, pinning you down with his weight. In the tight space, it’s impossible to escape his scent, his warmth, the hand toying with your pussy instead of shucking your pants off, winding you up.

You squirm beneath him, barely able to move. His laugh pools from his chest and into your.

“So fun to play with.” His voice is a rumble next to your ear. Your body tenses, skin feeling tight, flushed, stretched thin in anticipation.

“Hurry up,” you whine, jolting your hips up against his. He sucks a breath through his teeth.

It’s a heated blur. His hand withdraws from your pussy. He struggles with his belt long enough for you to wedge a hand between your bodies and try to help. It's finally open, his zipper barely down before you're shoving your hand into his pants to palm him.

He pushes your wrist away gently to pull himself free. The thought of taking him into your mouth makes drool pool in your mouth. You swallows thickly, swollen lips pouting. Eyes on the prize.

“Whatcha want?” Lighter leans back, his back hunched awkwardly in the small space of the back seat. He strokes himself slowly, his eyes fixed on your cunt.

“I want you shut the fuck up and fuck me.”

He taps the head of his dick against your clit, eyes lingering on the way he bounces it off your body, the way your thighs tense. Your struggle to stay still is plain as day in close quarters. Lighter grips the base of his thick cock. He slides himself through your folds, glistening tip nudging against your clit, each pass making you clench around nothing.

“Please,” you whine, smacking your head back against the seat. Your hands grip his biceps, nails biting into his skin.

He doesn't give you a chance to beg again. The fat head of his cock glides snugly into your pussy, the first inch frictionless and squelching. His fat cock catches, the stretch enough to make your breath sutter. Lighter plants a hand by your head, fingers dimpling the cushion. He pulls out, fucking himself deeper.

His forehead drops against your breast, chest near heaving. Lighter's hips stutter - barely restraining the desire to pound you into the carseat.

“You feel so fucking good,” he moans. He grinds into you, thick cock dragging against your walls, each roll of his hips sucking him in deeper and deeper until you can feel him in your stomach.

Your voice is caught in your throat, toes curling, knees pressing in, pussy trying to lock him in. You squeeze around him again and again, pulsing. Lighter bottoms out with one last, powerful roll of his hips, his restraint slipping, shuffling you up against the seats. Your cry out, pushing him back only to tug him closer, his face suffocated in your tits.

His hand slips down your spine, finding the small of your back. He angles your hips up, cock battering perfectly against a spot that has you crying out at each thrust, nails streaking red line against his biceps.

"Shit— shit," he pants, face buried into the junction of your neck, hips pinning you to the seat.

Lighter’s hips rabbit into you, fucking you hard and quick, lost in the feel of your gummy walls.

“Never going back to fucking condoms,” Lighter puffs out. Every thrust presses him against your clit. Tears prick at your eyes. Your mind blanks. You babble something incoherent in response. Your hand wedges between your body, rubbing frantically against your clit. “Feels so good. Not gonna last– fuck!”

Your dripping pussy has him in a vice grip, spasming as his hips drive into you again, again, again. Stars explode behind your eyes, fingertips clenching, chest too tight. His hips pin your hand against your clit. He doesn't draw back fully again, drags his fat cock hard and languid against the same spot over and over until all that tension unspools and the warmth spills over into your veins, onto his cock, coating your seats.

Lighter fucks you through it, voice pitching higher as his thrusts get sloppier, more desperate. He grumbles promises into your skin – gonna buy your birth control, baby, don't make me squeeze into a condom again, you feel too fucking good, holy shit, fuck, cumming—

You're already half-way to bonelessness, riding out the current of pleasure churns in you, when he floods your pussy with his cum. Spurt after spurt of his thick seed splatters against your walls. Your stomach flutters, eyes glazed.

Lighter's hips pump and sputter, staggered and stuttering, fucking his cum deeper into you. He leans his weight against you fully, muscled body pressing the breath from you. You don't know how you could be closer than this but you crave it, crave him, need more, need this to be unending.

Gradually, his hips slow. He comes down from his high, the whine in his voice pitching back to gravel. His cheek rests against your shoulder, hands flexing against your skin. You pet his hair idly, eyes shut, soaking in the bliss and the closeness.

His cock softens in your puffy walls, but his muscles tense with a sudden realization.

“Shit– I'm sorry,” he says in a rush, picking his head up to look at you. You only hum, confused, barely cracking an eye open. “I– inside. I didn't mean to–”

Oh. Ohh, fuck.

You swear quietly beneath your breath. Your teeth catch your lip, worrying it for a moment – but as fucked out as you are, brain still melted, it's difficult to muster panic.

You stroke his hair firmer, trying to urge him to lay back against you. His strength is evident in that moment when he resists your pull. The restraint in his touch is clear - and the threat of his strength has your aching clit twinging painfully. You were going to have to unpack that later.

“Lighter - it's fine,” you say. “I'll go to town later.”

“I'll drive you.” His tone brooks no argument. He pulls himself away from you, and the cold prickles against your flushed skin. You can't help but feel lost when he pulls himself out of you, pussy throbbing for the stretch of his cock - missing him already.

He tucks himself into his pants again, not bothering to zip back up. He bends, the curve of his tight ass on display. You sigh dreamily - nearly forget to react when he tosses you your discarded shirt back.

Lighter holds up a finger, chest still heaving and flushed, fluffy hair matted to his forehead with swear. He disappears from view, rattling around in your garage out of sight, before he comes back with a rag in hand.

"We should do this in a bed," you say, accepting the rag Lighter passes you. You inspect it carefully. No oil, no dirt - good enough for you.

"I think I can get a truck for an evening."

"What? No," You laugh. "Like a bed bed. With pillows, and blankets."

Lighter keeps his back turned to you, arms pausing mid-stretch. He rolls his shoulder, fluffs his hair - takes his sweet time turning back to face you.

Your stomach churns. Fuck. That was too much too quick. Sure, he just came inside you, but you were going to scare him off like this. He wasn't going to help you air up your tires ever again, much less fuck you–

"I can put pillows and blankets in a truck bed," he points out.

You huff a laugh, shaking your head. “I guess that's better than nothing.”

Lighter's lips quirk into a smile. He ducks back into the car, tapping your hip. You scoot back to make room for him. He lifts his arm, expecting you to curl up against his side.

“I'll drive you out for the sunset.”

“The sunset?” You repeat skeptically. You hadn't expected something so… sweet.

Lighter shrugs you closer. He tugs at a lock of your hair, teasing.

“Or for stargazing,” he counters, a hint of desperation sneaking in, cracking past his suave performance. “Whichever.”

You study him for a moment. He feels so unguarded in this moment, without the vestiges of the champion. He's just Lighter in this moment - just the man who fucked your brains out in the back of your car, who was at your beck and call for every stupid excuse you could conjure up just to see him.

“Both,” you decide. You nestle your cheek against his shoulder, eyes slipping shut. “If we stay long enough, we can do both.”

A guaranteed, precious few hours with him all to yourself. Your stomach squirms. You blame it on the feeling of his cum slipping out of you, pretend that your affection isn't burning you up from the inside.

Lighter shifts to kiss he crown of your head. His hand trails a lazy path against your arm, fingers warm, comfortable against your skin, his touch so different from the way he had pressed against you moments before.

One of these days you were going to get this man into a proper goddamn bed, but you'd settle for malapropisms until the time came.

[comically-callous]

Can I request headcanons for Kurt, Remy, Logan, and Wade reacting to his gender neutral crush kissing him because they're so in love with him before apologising when they realised what they just did please?

Ofc!!

X-Men with a gn!crush!Reader who suddenly kisses them 🤯🤯🤯

Includes: Remy LeBeau, Wade Wilson, Logan Howlett, and Kurt Wagner

A/n: I love them a normal amount. This took me a long time to write because tumblr kept deleting all of my work 😋😋😋 But, it’s here now. Hope you freaks annoy it. Requests are OPEN 💜

Remy:

It happens one day when you guys are in the kitchen cooking together

Remy (ever the opportunist) is helping you out by occasionally guiding your hands or gently grabbing your waist/hips whenever he moves past you. And you're definitely not complaining

Overall, the vibes are very flirtatious and cutesy, and you sort of get caught up in it.

After the food is in the oven and Remy is washing dishes, you walk over and kiss him.

Remy damn near drops the bowl he was rinsing, but he manages to keep his cool and almost immediately starts kissing you back

You're the first to pull away because it suddenly clicks for you that you're kissing your friend, so you break the kiss to start apologizing

"What you apologizing for, mon Ami?"

"I kissed you."

"And? I certainly didn't mind."

Remy has liked you for a while. That was pretty obvious to everyone. Everyone except you, since you thought he was just being flirty with you like he was with nearly everyone.

But, that's obviously not the case. He makes sure to make that very clear.

Once all of your feelings are cleared up, Remy pulls you closer to him by your hips and smirks softly. "You wanna try and kiss me again? For real this time?"

His ass did NOT finish those dishes 💀

Logan:

He comes back from a long mission, exhausted and not really in the mood for dealing with anyone

Well, that is until he sees you walking down the hallway. Then he decides he can maybe deal with one more person.

You're happy to see him back, wrapping your arms around him in a warm embrace that he didn't know he needed

"Ugh, I missed you!"

“You say that every time I come back from a mission."

"Yeah, because it's true."

He missed you too, but you don't need to know that.

You pull back from him just to lean in and kiss him.

That's probably the last thing he expected you to do. I mean, yeah he really like you, but he'd always been certain that you'd never want a guy like him.

After a moment of shock, he starts kissing you back, arms tightening around you

You pull away to ask "is this okay?" And he doesn’t even let you finish, just pulls you in for another kiss.

Sorry. He’s just wanted this for such a long time.

Wade:

He's liked you for a pretty long time. But, he knows you probably won’t like him back with how he looks. And he tells himself he’s fine with that.

But, since you two have been friends for a while, you get curious. So, you ask if you can see his face.

He agrees eventually and pulls his mask off to show you.

Normally he doesn't get so nervous to show people his real face. But, it's different with you. He doesn't think he can just laugh off your disgust.

When he pulls his mask off and your eyes widen, he immediately assumes the worst

"Yeah. Hideous, I know. Not the chiseled supermodel that I sound like under the-"

"Wade, you're like, hot."

"Excuse me?"

He can't believe it. Actually, he doesn't believe it. After you repeat yourself, he starts telling you that he doesn't need you to lie to him and that's when you cut him off with a kiss.

He pulls away immediately just because of utter shock "Woah! Cool down, hot stuff. What are you doing?"

You tell him you've always liked him, and that you still like him (maybe even like him more) now that he's shown you his face.

He's over the moon.

"Well, why didn't you tell me sooner? We could've been doing this all along!"

"Doing what?"

And then he kisses you again. Heheheheehehehe 👅👅👅

Kurt:

Kurt loves helping you with anything and everything whenever he can. It’s one of the ways he shows his appreciation for you.

So, when you receive a (very minor) injury during training, he’s at your side almost immediately

He drags you away and makes you sit down, treating your small cut as if it were a leg that had fallen off

“Don’t move, Schatz. I will be back with a first aid kit.”

“Kurt, you don’t need to-“

“Stay, please.”

So, you let him patch you up, and he does far too much for a wound that you could probably just slap a bandaid over

But, you don’t mind. You admire him as he’s crouched down to the floor, delicately treating the small cut on your knee

And then he looks up at you with those bright, yellow eyes and he smiles. And you can’t help yourself. You lean down to him and kiss him.

This poor boy is so surprised he can’t do anything. He just freezes up. So, you assume you’ve done something wrong and you pull away.

“I’m so sorry. I thought- I was just-“

“Please do that again.”

“What?”

“Please.”

And you do 🧚‍♀️

[heegyukeluv]

a hundred sunsets (sjy)

pairing: jake x afab!reader

synopsis: Using a dating app in order to find a lover rarely worked properly to you, which was the reason you never planned to do so. But bumping into someone so charming as you texted your possible future love interest wasn’t on your plans either. 

my's note: hello!!! it's not only my first time writing in english but also my first time using tumblr to post a story  i’m honestly kinda nervoussjdjdjs. a few things I want to say before anything: those are fictional characters, also i know almost nothing when it comes to other country’s educational systems sooo i’m sorry if something is off, and mostly important: enjoy!!! 

i wasn't planning to write this much but i think i got a little carried away lol

warnings: quick mention of alcohol (all characters are of age!), slow burn kinda?, at least one ‘kms’ joke srry, strangers to friends to lovers, pet names (sweetheart, pretty, sugar, etc..), lot of language, jake is downnn baddd, there’s a slightly jay x y/n moment (they go on a date lol) but not too much dw!!!, reader blushing/turning red! eventual smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) - jake is kinda a sub, oral sex (both), unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), j. cums inside (consensual), overstimulation (m), slight dacryphilia. enha’s jay, sunghoon and heeseung + lesserafim’s yunjin and chaewon as side characters. LMK IF I FORGOT SOMETHING.

wc: 22k

NOT PROOFREAD.

EXTRA (epilogue kinda?)

As comfortable as your couch was and even though you very much loved watching “Pitch Perfect”, that wasn't the fun weekend you had planned, actually you didn't plan anything at all. But there you were, licking your fingertips in order to clean up the salt flakes of the chips you devoured during the last minutes.

It wasn't like you really cared about what your lifestyle was turning into during the few months that passed by, opting to stay at home doing your little things here and there, taking a fair break from the crazy parties at suspicious places alongside a lame try to hang out with very random people... 

The initial excuse of "I'll focus more on my studies" was holding a bit, however you couldn't help but feel bored at your choices at this point. 

You sighed, opening the message app on your phone and re-reading the last texts you received in your friend group.

Jinnie 💘: my sweet little y/n i’ve been here watching you ROT down in your apartment and i’m tired!!! sure you don’t wanna party anymore or wtv BUT FOR GOD’S SAKE i love you but truth be said YOU NEED TO GET LAID!!!! download the app pleeeeasseeee it’s not like you’re gonna match with a weirdo (i guess Chaebae 💖: Worst case scenario you just call me and I go to rescue you with my very muscly arms Best case scenario you win a good fuck !

You laughed again at the texts, picturing Chaewon with her baby face and a very packed body. Would she be able to really punch someone on the face in order to protect you? For sure she would. And she didn't even need muscly arms or whatever. 

Being friends for God knows how long you thought about trusting them. They wouldn’t try to mislead you, right? 

You always had little to no interest in dating apps. The few times you tried you constantly felt like you were practically selling yourself as some product with specific traits, where the buyer doesn't have enough chance to get to know more parts of you before anything, chasing for the next step so eagerly.

Although your heart beats fast for people you just met seemingly outwardly interesting, the real feeling of wanting to be with them, to go out on dates, to trust enough to let parts of yourself to be shown comfortably needs time and usually grows slowly.

You never really dated anyone in order to fulfill momentary desires, your own body wouldn't let it happen as you lose interest as soon as you feel too pressured by the other part or when the connection wasn’t clicking right.

Chaewon and Yunjin were different though. They had the free spirit to just hit that one night stand and be happy about it. You were happy about it, loving to listen to their crazy dates and nights out, sharing the most terrific stories about it while drinking some wine on your balcony.

Nevertheless, you were kinda desperate. Your last relationship ended one year ago, the one you rooted for a very long time – two years and five months, to be exact, until one day you caught him cheating on you with one of his "best friends that you don’t have to worry, baby". Very much cliché but also a big trauma in your life, leading you to this very moment of neediness but not enough courage to trust someone again.

Since then you have been hooking up once and a while with random people you met at parties, but never felt right or enough especially because you tried so hard to either not get attached – and with that lose the brief sexual interest – or on the very other side of the hand, to build up some kind of relationship.

Every single one turning into a big failure. 

Sighing again, your fingers typed on the screen keyboard.

You: Can you send me the name again?  Chaebae 💖: OH??? YUNJIN Jinnie 💘: I KNOW [LFS] hope you enjoy!! hihi You: What's with the acronym lol Chaebae 💖: "Love at First Sight"  You: Oh god And you rly think it’s a good idea? Chaebae 💖: ..yeah? Jinnie 💘: a great idea actually! You chuckled. What could go wrong?

Everything went wrong.

Not every single thing, but a bunch for sure. 

You didn’t know if your taste was too specific or if overall men were just that boring. You had good features, your pics weren’t that bad either and your personality… Liking video games, some astronomical stuff, movies and dogs couldn’t be a big red flag, right? 

But every match got you thinking “what happened to the old ‘hi, how are you?’”. Maybe because of those exact traits you put on display made the weird nerds attracted to you as a potential match, thinking their fantasies would be fulfilled by you. 

Of course you understand people on those kinds of apps sometimes have very clear goals setted, but how frustrating is it to try to have a good conversation and the least creepy answer be “is it weird that i want you sucking me while i play league of legends? lmao”?

No matter how defeated you were feeling you weren’t one to give up. And that leads to this very moment as you type fast on your phone with your current attempt. 

Park Jongseong, or just Jay, was hot. Like, very hot. And his talking wasn’t going to weird places so far, which at this point was a big win. He was funny and somewhat endearing, sharing avidaly about his travels and his music interests with so much passion that you started to rethink your own life choices thus far – was the ongoing college degree a good choice? Should you give up everything and start to live as an artist? 

Lost in your train of thoughts about maybe having found somebody worthy of your time as you walked down the hallway heading to your next lecture of the day, you didn’t expect to hit your face straight into someone’s chest. A very strong and hard chest by the way, you thought briefly, scented with some woody essence that got straight into your senses. The sweet voice of the owner wasn’t expected either.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!”, the boy uttered with a worried tone looking down at you trying to see if he had hurt you in some way. You almost didn’t catch his thick accent. “Are you okay?” he questioned softly, still concerned. You blinked a few times before coming back to reality, looking up confused at his face and answering hurriedly with slightly widened eyes.

“I’m the one who should be sorry! God, I’m so stupid, I should be more careful,” you started to blather as you lost yourself in that pretty face you just hit into. The whole combo was breathtaking. Plump glossy red lips and puppy eyes full of worry; the silky brown hair was just as normal as any other brown hair but what the fuck was that face? “I was looking down at my phone and I didn’t see y–”, you were interrupted by the honeyed voice again “I mean, I was also using my phone and didn’t see you either,” he chuckled. “You’re fine, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened even more at the same time as a smirk decorated his beautiful lips. You don’t know what got you more flustered, the pet name or the double meaning of that simple phrase. You could feel your cheeks burning hard and your first instinct was to look down to the floor and wonder if hiding yourself beneath the tile was a good option.

“Well, sorry again,” he said and you forced yourself to swallow down the saliva that got stuck on your throat and to look up again, facing now a cute small and shy smile that made your heart beat fast. Too fast. “See ya!” and just like that he went his own way, not even waiting for your response.

You were sure someone had glued the sole of your shoes on the ground while you two had that small and awkward talk, because there’s no way your legs stopped working properly just because of him.

You looked over your shoulder in order to see his back going away but it was already too late, since he wasn’t around anymore. You thought to yourself he was certainly a new student, because you would have noticed him sooner. How could you not?

His chocolate eyes and sweet voice were the only things on your mind as you picked up your phone to text back Jay, trembling a bit from the encounter still.

You: of course we can see each other this friday!! :) 

You tried your best to fully focus on your upcoming assignments, but your library time has reduced quite a bit and even in your house your attention was wandering constantly. For the last three days you walked around your whole campus trying so hard to bump into that good-looking visage one more time, going back and forth that hallway hoping to see that guy.

Describing his appearance to Chaewon and Yunjin didn’t help a bit, especially because everything you could remember was his sweet voice, his silky brown hair and his very beautiful smile. Just like any other guy. 

But he wasn’t. 

He looked smooth, confident and whatever other compliment you could build to him – like, you never really met him to know more than just the appearance, and his looks exuded that so you just guessed. The fucking “sweetheart” coming from his mouth sounded too good for your own heart. And that was everything you got from him. Not even a glimpse of something else like what classes he got or anything like that.

“I don’t know, I’m starting to worry you are seeing ghosts or making people up, girl”, Yunjin said as her hands unwrapped her sandwich right before she took a big bite.

“I’m not!” you whined with a pout. “I swear to god he exists. I need him to exist. He’s too fine,” you whispered the last part, even though they both heard you.

“This is definitely something someone who is starting to see things would say, y’know that, right?” Chaewon said with a laugh, making you chuckle a bit because, well, it’s true. How does one prove a person exists given that no one but you saw him?

The campus was big enough for you not to see him ever again, however after the quick encounter you noticed he walked towards the end of the hallway, to classes that only someone with an area of study similar to yours would go to.

“This is frustrating,” you stated, looking at the people wandering around still hoping to see him. Your lunch already forgotten in front of you.

“Don’t you have a date in like a few hours?” Chaewon questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Shouldn’t we be worrying about you and that hot Jay guy instead of you and the we-don’t-even-know-if-he-exists guy?”

“She’s right, baby,” Yunjin added. “Jay looks adorable. You should focus on him.”

You nodded defeated, sighing and forcing yourself to re-read your texts with the said guy. “You’re right”, you smiled a bit.

Jay: Looking forward to our date tonight! <3

You: yeah, me too :) 

And just like that the afternoon has arrived and you got yourself in a dilemma of clothing and accessories and shoes and makeup and even between your perfumes! Everything seemed terrible together, nothing was right, no cloth piece looked good enough to match Jay’s insane visuals and taste in style. Through his photos you noticed the way he fashioned himself, wearing fancy brands with a generous constancy, looking too good for yourself.

You were on the verge of crying when Yunjin called you, as if she felt in her guts you needed her.

“Hey,” you answered the call, quickly accepting the change to a video call and propping your phone on your desk. “How we doin’, baby?” She asked curiously with a big excited smile. “Why aren’t you ready yet?” You noticed she had makeup on and was doing her hair while talking to you.

“Not doing well, Jinnie…” you pouted, looking at the mess around you. You were dealing with a lot of emotions at the same time and felt so lost. “I don’t know what to wear,” you said sincerely. “I feel like nothing I have here is enough to match Jay’s.”

In your defense, it’s been a long time since you ever went on a date, especially a dinner date and with someone so elegant like Jay.

You weren’t expecting Yunjin almost screaming at you. “Don’t you dare to say anything like that ever again!” You startled. “Y/N, you will look good in any clothing you decide to wear, because you are hot. Not your clothes or accessories or anything. They just complement your own beauty!”

While Chaewon normally was the one who would speak up for the whole group in terms of defending her girls, Yunjin worked on the other part of bringing the mood and the self esteem up. And both of them always did a great job.

“You are so fucking right, Yunjin,” she smiled proudly after you spoke, continuing her job on doing her hair.

You looked around one more time, getting out of the frame just to change yourself in a simple black dress long enough to cover half of your tights and the exact amount of tightness that hugged your curves with close perfection. “Thoughts?” You appeared again in front of the camera after a few minutes of trying some accessories.

“Sexy. And pretty. You are so getting laid tonight!” You chuckled. “I think I’m not the only one, though?” You wiggled your eyebrows playfully and she just giggled, before saying a quick goodbye and ending the call.

Just like you, she had things to get done. 

Putting on some lip gloss as a final touch, you were ready. And just in time as you felt your phone vibrating inside your purse with Jay's text.

Jay: I’m here :) You: Coming!

The big car greeting the door of your building was expected at some point, nonetheless your shocking expression was hardly disguised with a nervous smile. As Jay stepped out of his car, you quickly analyzed his outfit and had to take a breath because his white button up shirt with the sophisticated black trousers was getting yourself out of orbit. You felt a little dizzy when his hand positioned on your waist as he leaned to greet you with a little kiss on the cheek and a pretty smile.

He opened the door for you and when you both had settled down on the car seat, he said “You look great, Y/N”. With his help, you put on the seatbelt and thanked with a kind smile. "You look good yourself too, Jay."

The drive to the restaurant was quite normal, a few words being exchanged here and there, the conversation was pretty ordinary. You were a pile of nerves and you had to almost physically stop yourself from moving your legs up and down due to the feeling of anxiety. It’s not like Jay was making you uncomfortable, but you didn’t felt too comfortable either. The whole fancy type of thing was getting you too hesitant for a first date. You were more like a cafe date girly, stargazing at some open air park or maybe a picnic. Now you were blaming yourself for not letting that out beforehand.

Jay parked the car at the parking lot. “We’re here”, his voice broke you out of your mind and when you glanced up at the restaurant you felt like dying inside.

Too fancy.

“It’s… amazing,” was everything that slipped out your mouth as you got out of the car with Jay’s help. “I’m glad you liked it, princess.”

The pet name didn’t get you the much you hoped it would, actually it made you think about the fucking hallway guy and his smooth “sweetheart” saying, sending shivers down your spine.

When both of you reached the table reserved under the name Park Jongseong and you looked through the menu, you knew you were fucked up. With no shame, though, you asked “Could you order for me? I know little to no ingredients on this paper.”

Jay let a small breathy laugh and nodded ordering for both of you. He picked a wine impressively saying the name and the year and whatever other things wines have in its description trying to impress you. However, your focus was on the view that you finally noticed on your right side that faced a big window. The night sky was impressive and the moon was shining prettily. 

“Enjoying the view?” he asked after sipping a bit of his wine. “Yeah, it’s incredible. I love the moon, actually I–” you didn’t had the chance to even start on your probably long talk about how much interested you are in the moon, being cutted of by Jay.

“Did you know that once I almost had the chance to go to the moon?” Your head snapped so fast towards his direction that you thought you would break your neck. “What?” The discredited and doubtful expression adorning your face was so clear still you were not afraid of showing it off.

With that, you discovered a not so good part of Jay: his somewhat annoying and exaggerated personality of trying to impress you with exorbitant things, too different from the texts you guys had exchanged. You had no interest knowing that his first birthday present was diamonds or that his dad bought him a car even before he turned eighteen. Let alone that he traveled to every single place you said during the conversation.

The way he would blurt out interrupting you in order to say "It's so amazing there! You would love the beaches and the museums, and the..." so it goes, every single time was really angering you.

Feeling left out in a duo talk was a new experience to you. How could someone be so full of himself and act like his life is the only one that matters? His gentlemanly aura was falling down very fast.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying our date,” he pointed with elegance when you went full quiet, looking directly at you. You sipped a bit of the wine that actually tasted too bad for your palate, noticing how half of your food was left out on your plate. You forced yourself to eat as much as you could handle, but the aftertaste of that food was worse than the taste itself. 

“Oh, now you noticed me,” you artificially smiled.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, a bit offended. You got nervous, but didn’t let that get on you. “I mean that for the past two hours all you talk about is yourself. At first I was like ‘okay, this is how we know each other!’, but since then I haven’t had the chance to talk about anything related to myself, like my likings or whatever,” you vented, having to take a deep breath and drink some more wine afterwards. 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t get it,” Jay seemed honestly confused.

“Are you stupid?” the question slipped your tongue a bit too fast for your own thinking. You widened your eyes and covered your mouth with your hand. “I’m sorry I–” 

“I don’t think I’m stupid, but I really don’t get it. It’s my first date in a while and I don’t really remember having to listen to the girls at all…”

Squinting, you questioned genuinely, “What do you mean? Like, the girls you took out on dates just… listened to you bragging about diamonds and travels?” He kinda mimicked your expression and replied as if it was obvious “...Yeah…” 

After you blinked a few times you recomposed yourself and drank the whole wine on your glass at one go wishing you could just get drunk enough to forget that night. Jay watched you with a fazed expression as you got up from your chair. “I’m sure you’ll find someone that likes you the way you are. But with all due respect, to me, you kinda… Y’know. So I’m leaving.” You pointed with your thumb to your back, not even knowing if the exit was that way. “It was… an experience, I think.” You forced a smile. “Do I have to pay for something?” 

“No, don’t worry about that,” he was quick in his response, feeling a bit ashamed and soon adding “But I can get you home, you just have to wait for me to p–”

“Nah, I’m fine. I’ll call a cab or whatever,” you interrupted him as soon as you could, not wanting to spend any more second with him. Being in a closed space with him for more than a few seconds would be too embarrassing. 

“Y/N, come on. It’s the least I can do for you. You don’t have to walk alone at night, it can be dangerous.” You sighed, tapping his shoulder softly when you got closer to him. “Jay, it’s fine. It was not meant to be,” you tried to sound certain but what left your mouth was a mix of sneering with a doubtful tone. When he said nothing more, you left.

You were free. And also hungry. And a bit tipsy.

Maybe it was not the best idea to walk alone at that time of the night, but somehow you managed to feel better outside than with Jay. He was great, but definitely not for you.

You questioned yourself if calling Yunjin or Chaewon or maybe both could be a good idea, but knowing them they would show up in no time and try to beat the crap out of Jay and you weren’t in the mood to witness a murder. Actually all you needed was food. And maybe a cozy place. Nevertheless you typed on your phone just to update your girls.

You: Date went down the hole Guy’s kinda suck ngl Chaebae 💖: WDYM ARE YOU OKAY  DO YOU NEED ME TO GET THAT BASTARD OR WHAT WHAT DID HE DO WHERE ARE YOU Jinnie 💘: i’m very much drunk rn but tell me his address and i'll kick his ass and get you home or are you home already?

You laughed at the quick replies you received and typed some reassurance to them while continuing your walking process. Your goal at that point was to find a convenience store where you could get some lamen and perhaps a soda.

While you wrote down your last message walking slowly not to trip, you bumped into someone, face straight to their chest.

Firm and cunning hands held you by the waist since you lost balance because of your heels, preventing you from falling. Before you could even say anything, that fucking woody essence went directly through your senses and it was as if history was reescribing itself, like a gift from fate. This time, you were fully in his arms.

You looked up. “I’m so– Oh, you again?” He showed his charming smile. Because of the proximity you noticed how the corner of his lips were a bit curvy. So attractive and for what? 

Just like the last time, you blinked twice before realizing what really was happening, feet fixed on the ground. “I’m starting to consider that you like bumping into my chest, sweetheart,” he said with a grin, his mentoled breath hitting straight on your face.

Thank god his hands still held your waist, otherwise you would definitely fall. Your baffled expression had him chuckling a bit. “Did I hurt you?” he asked with care, looking directly at your eyes. His pretty chocolate eyes were hidden behind black specs this time.

You kept gazing stupidly at him like he was a distinct specie, an alien or something, not being able to say a word. Your throat was dry, you were sure you had lost the ability of talking. “Have you forgotten how to talk, pretty one?” He sniggered and bold but gently placed a strand of your hair behind your ear with his free hand. You shivered and almost leaned into the touch. “I remember you having such an endearing voice,” and just like that you finally let your body respond and blushed, taking a deep breath while starting to move away from him “I’m sorry, I didn’t see yo–”

“Cut that off, sweetheart," he let you go, making sure you were stable on your feet. You missed the warmth of his body on yours right away. Also you took your time to appreciate his clothing. The deep red shirt with white stripes covered with a black jacket looked too good on him. "I’m worried our encounters will keep happening like this. You might end up getting hurt for real,” the concerned tone did not go unnoticed, even mixed with the teasing-flirtatious one.

Your eyes wandered his face quickly before you let out a chuckle and diverted your attention away. You decided to ignore the buzzing sound of your phone as you put it inside your purse. “That wouldn’t be fun, would it?”, you said.

“Definitely not,” you looked back at him, caughting the shining eyes staring at you already like all he had down his sight was you. “A beautiful face like yours cannot be hurt, am I right?” And again there was that too attractive sly smile adorning his lips. You decided to smile back but shyly yet unable to hold the visual contact for more than a few seconds, cheeks still reddened. 

“I don’t know you enough to say that but you seem a bit… off”, he was now looking at you with his gleaming puppy eyes, head slightly tilted to the side. “Yeah, I might be a little bit tipsy.”

Normally you would be mad at the fact the small amount of wine was hitting that hard, blaming your weakness towards alcohol for making you feel kinda dizzy and too bold for your own good – you internally debated if that dizzines came from the alcohol or from other sources, like the very good looking man standing in front of you.

Still you thanked the fearless feeling running through your veins at that very moment, otherwise where would you find enough courage to say what you said next?

“Are you down to get some lamen at some random convenience store with me?”, you had no idea what your words could mean to him and honestly weren’t expecting much, but as soon as his face lit up like you told him he won a good amount of money, you felt victorious. “Is this your way of flirting? Because if it is, it’s working on me.” 

“That’s good to know, nameless boy”, you scoffed with a seductively undertone, the little smirk on your lips and your now boldness to maintain eye contact making him laugh as a failed attempt to hide his flustered self. The next moment you both were greeting each other with a quick handshake after he offered his hand to you. “I’m Jake”.

The hallway boy finally got a name, and not only that, you were now sure of his existence.

Sitting on a bench at the little shop you managed to find, the angry owner’s expression facing you two was as clear as crystal water and got you thinking if you were being too loud. Without caring much you just let it be, since being with Jake apparently meant you will be noisy eventually. It was not necessarily his fault, the both of you just shared too many common interests that made it difficult not to get overly excited during the conversation. 

It all began with just a normal “no way you like this flavor!” – with a very strong Australian accent from his side – and since then the flow went smoothly. His company had been greatly enjoyable so far and you let yourself be more and more comfortable about sharing some self information.

For example at some point you discovered he was a physics student, and with that you instantly shared about your love for the moon – also the lack of acknowledgement about it. You explained that you were affectionate to the moon because of its beauty, shining brightly in the sky even when behind heavy clouds. Looking at it always made you feel somehow free, especially when some breeze hits your body simultaneously. 

Jake carefully listened to you with fond eyes and after you finished, he started to explain a bit of theory to you, sounding too smart. He looked very attractive saying words you didn’t even know the meaning behind and you noticed you were paying way too much attention to the way his charming lips were moving as he did so. 

And just like that you traveled around many subjects. You being more emotional and Jake more rational, respectfully giving each other the chance to speak, constantly but easily finding ways to match one’s energy. You finally felt heard that night. And one of the topics being, of course, the whole date situation.

“Ok, so what you’re telling me is that this Jay guy told you about his whole financial status, which I admit makes me kinda envious, and you still managed to end up here with me at some very random convenience store eating cheap lamen?”, he shook off the empty package of said lamen, staring at you with an amusement look.

“Yep,” you nodded, slurping the last bite of your food. “And also I called him stupid.” 

“At his face,” he completed the very important piece of information, finishing his food as well. Jake licking his lips to clean it up didn’t go unnoticed by you. “I swear if I was Jay I would be crying right now,” he stated as a fact and you groaned.

“Don’t make me feel bad for him, please,” you uttered with a whine and he laughed at you, his eyes turning into little crescents as he did so. “I swear he was nice and prolly had good intentions, but y’know…” you left unfinished, but Jake concluded for you. “He bragged about diamonds hoping you would fall for him or something.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head before drinking the last sip of your soda, “yeah, definitely not my type.”

Jake decided to restrain the urge of asking what your type would be, a little afraid he was off league. “Well, at least you got on a date with me,” he sneered. You chuckled. 

“I knew I would hit my pretty face directly on your so toned chest when I walked out that date,” you said sarcastically and then added “that’s why I decided to go in the first place.”

You were feeling way better now, belly full of good food that really pleased your taste buds and not drunk anymore, although you still let the boldness command your words through the talking once and while. You found out that behind Jake’s flirtatious and teasing way of speaking to you, there was also a very sheepish boy that would get flustered from time to time, like right now. He laughed off and drank the rest of his soda in order to run away from your very sharp but playful eyes.

Jake was so entertained by you. The way you expressed yourself so cheerfully and vibrantly. Whenever some topic of your liking was on the track your eyes would instantly get an almost childish sparkle as your hands motioned in a very exciting way and your detailed explanations would be voiced out.

Also he discovered you were a lot more confident than he thought you could be. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t liking this side of yours, audaciously flirting with him whenever you got the chance to do so, without holding back your bold responses. The feeling of the top of his ears burning knowing they were very much red was starting to become common for him. He did not had to know that you not only noticed his reactions, but was loving every minute.

Despite that, he tried to keep his cool.

“What are you up to after here, sugar?”, Jake asked forcing a nonchalantly tone while playing with the rings adorning his fingers, and yet again you were forced to remember the fucking cute pet names that got you flushed everytime he dared to say them. You looked away for a bit before answering.

“I don’t know, maybe go home… Watch some videos until I fall asleep”, you shrugged. Early on that day you weren’t expecting to find yourself in a situation like that, actually the whole program was to get “dicked down” – as Chaewon worded. However, you weren't disappointed either with how the evening turned out to be.

“Come on, Y/N,” your name went out too smoothly on Jake’s plumpy lips, his honeyed voice never failing to make you flutter slightly. Still you tried to keep your composure. “It’s friday and you’re wearing such a beautiful dress to what? To go home, watch videos and sleep?” He mocked the last part and you chuckled before lazily smiling in his direction, fully facing him. You recognized the tiredness starting to consume your body slowly which did not go unnoticed by Jake. Your tinted cheeks from the compliment also did not go unnoticed by him.

“And what would you recommend me to do, Jakey?”

“Jakey?” He raised an eyebrow, liking the way you pronounced the nickname a bit too much, thinking it was definitely something he could grow used to.

You just kept smiling, looking up at him through your eyelashes. You perceived how close on the seat you both were as if a magnet pulled you two together through that night, your bare shoulder slightly brushing against his clothed one from time to time.

“To be honest I just wanted an excuse to point out how gorgeous you are in this dress,” he licked his bottom lip as a habit while you didn’t even have the chance to properly receive the compliment, Jake being too smooth with it. “I don’t have any good recommendations, but if you’re down we c–”

The sound of your phone ringing interrupted Jake’s possible plans, making both of you startle. You saw Yunjin’s name on the screen and wondered whether to answer or not.

“Aren’t you gonna pick up?” Jake asked with curiosity. 

“Actually, yes I will,” you remembered you left your friends hanging on your texts and have been unintentionally ignoring them, so it was only fair to give a quick update just to make them sure you are still alive. 

“Hi baby”, you picked up the call with a smile, hearing a very drunk Yunjin on the other side. “No, I’m not home yet”, Jake watched as you talked on your phone with a neutral expression. He himself feeling a bit worried with the usage of nicknames and with your cute tone towards the person.

He knew you just went out on a date, assuming that you were at least looking to have some fun, however that fact should not be enough to stop you from being unavailable. Jake thought that a pretty girl like you probably already had a love interest in line.

“Don’t worry, Jinnie. You don’t have to come pick me up”, you glanced over at Jake who was now paying too much attention to the table in front of him, lost in his own mind and also trying to give you some privacy. You grinned, “I’m not alone.” Jake accidentally heard a very loud “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE NOT ALONE?” through your phone and had to hold back a laugh. “I’m with… Someone,” you kept your eyes on him as you spoke to Yunjin, grabbing his attention when you indirectly mentioned his presence. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” and then you ended the call with a “Love you, bye.”

“I didn’t mean to hear it, but I’m intrigued…” you knew where Jake was going with that, so you just kept your smile. “‘Someone’, huh?” He said with a smirk, clearly messing with you. 

You turned your head to someplace else because no matter how bold you can be sometimes, the following line that you let out made you hesitate a bit beforehand.

“Well, in my defense I don’t plan to introduce you to my friends through my phone, let alone as a mere guy I just met,” although you tried to keep your cheekily tone, it was obvious how shy you were feeling, gazing briefly at Jake’s direction as you said.

Jake hadn’t noticed until now that he was holding his breath a little, relievedly letting it out as he watched your pretty face and expressions. Regardless, the whole phrase made his head spin, replacing previous thoughts with new, more intense ones, all at once. What do you mean by that?

“Then how are you planning to introduce me?” he boldly questioned leaning towards you a little in order to find a way to look you in the eye again, finding adorable your demeanor right now breaking every little eye contact way too quickly. 

You giggled.

Jake thought he had just found his favorite sound in the world.

“We’ll see, Jakey.” 

Jake rode you home.

He noticed how lazy your hooded eyes started to look and decided to end the “date” instead of taking you to somewhere else, which you particularly found endearing. The bar was low, you admitted to yourself, but a cute guy being considerate for your entertainment other than just leading you anywhere else for his own amusement made your heart flutter. 

However, the moment he offered to take you home you immediately refused, emphasizing that he didn't need to worry and that you would not let him waste gas for nothing. The reply he gave was a not so subtle “I don’t care”, alongside with “I’ll not let you freeze outside waiting for a cab and I don’t trust you enough to let you borrow my jacket for tonight,” making you laugh at his little mischievous tone, especially because as soon as you both were in his car he put his black jacket on your shoulders.

“I thought you don’t trust me enough to have it?” You referred to the jacket, feeling too inebriated by its smell. 

“There's a big difference between leaving it to you alone without knowing if you'll ever hand me back and letting you have it under my watch, sweetheart.” His smug face looked too charming as he spoke and the damn sweetheart again got to you with ease. You chuckled while watching the street lights passing by. 

The ride was calmer than you expected. The radio played on some random station working as a beautiful background to the soft words exchanged between you two. You noticed Jake’s attractive side profile as he focused on the road rambling some physics thing in a very excited way. Your body felt too tired to keep any thoughts on track, leading you to just listen to his sweet voice embracing you mildly until you both arrived in front of your apartment building.

Of course he didn’t let you open the door and also helped you to get out. The touch of his warm hand under yours sended a shiver down your spine. 

“Thank you for the ride, Jake,” you said with a gentle smile.

“My pleasure, sugar,” your cheeks reddened hard as you started to take off his jacket. “You don’t have to,” he shook his hand in front of him, refusing to get the clothing piece back. You looked at him with a stunned-confused expression, lips parted a bit. Before you could even protest he interrupted you. “I need an excuse to see you again, right?” And send you a wink.

As if he said just a normal thing, he confidently got back to his car, letting behind a very flustered you. 

Little did you know how shaky his hands rested on the wheel as he drove off, looking forward to meeting you again.

Of course you had to spend your whole weekend waiting for Monday to come – a peculiar behavior you admitted to yourself. But neither you nor Jake got each other's phone number so all you could do was to wait and hope for the best. You didn’t even know if you would meet him again at the campus because you searched for him nonstop the last few days and never got the chance to do so, making you regret even more about not getting any information about where to find him.

His jacket rested on your desk chair as you deeply stared at the little stars adorning your bedroom ceiling. Stars that remembered how shiny Jake’s eyes looked when he started to talk about Theory of relativity or anything like that. You also remember paying just enough attention to understand and to keep the talking flow, focusing more on the way his lips moved as doing so.

You groaned, rolling on your bed sheets. How long a weekend can be? You were acting like a teenager for having a crush on a stranger! You knew little to no things about Jake. You knew his age – one year older than you, you knew his majoring and you also found out the reason behind him being at your campus block – he had to deliver some paperwork to a friend of his. But other than some common interests and his music taste, that was it. 

Was him a good person? He showed you a good personality for sure, to the point your heart sank with the idea of losing all that excitement to see him again just because he’s good looking and has a great talk. Still you kept questioning yourself. What if he was the player type? Just hitting for one night stand and that’s it?

Monday morning arrived but you did not had enough time to develop any more thoughts when you got to the university. As soon as you reached it, Chaewon and Yunjin flooded you with a very long investigation about what the hell happened that friday.

Talking in person was always an option for the three of you, the feeling of looking eye to eye and reading each other's expressions was more interesting than having to guess it over a phone or video call. Normally you three would pick a place to go and have a little "friends date" and talk about the stuff that happened for hours. However this time you choose to use the excuse you were busy studying, having too many assignments left behind which neither of them bought it from you.

“So Jay sucks?” Chaewon asked. “I don’t like putting it like that,” you murmured. “But yeah, we just didn’t hit it off, y’know?” You just shrugged.

You three were walking towards the class you shared that morning, not caring much about being a little late. 

“Baby, you’re too nice,” Yunjin hugged you sideways and smiled at you. “You can say a man is stupid.”

“Actually I did,” you smiled mischievously and they both looked at you with shocked expressions. “Not my proudest moment, but I said it to his face. Unintentionally, I swear!”  

Chaewon and Yunjin broke down the shocked expressions to laugh out loud with the idea of you calling your failed date a stupid right to his face.

 “And what’s with the jacket?” Yunjin questioned when you stopped to grab your things from your locker.

She knew every clothing piece you had as if it was hers because of your constant need for help in terms of putting together what you like, and even though the jacket looked good on you, definitely wasn't part of your wardrobe. 

“It’s Jake’s, I’m planning to send it back to him today.” 

They already knew about Jake, but not too much. You shared a little through texts not wanting to fill too much of their expectations. Knowing your two best friends, they would go crazy if you detailed your night out.

They both exchanged glances before Chaewon spoke “If he really exists.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, picking up all you needed from your locker before answering. “He does. And he’s… pretty nice.” You tried your best not to sound too whipped at that time, especially because you were still worrying if he would be loyal to his words or if the whole talk about meeting you again was just a big bluff. 

But apparently one thing about Jake it’s that he can counter you with ease. As if you summoned his presence, the honeyed voice that you didn’t realize until now you missed hearing, said from behind you. 

“Hey, pretty one.” your head snapped to the direction faster than you would like to admit, meeting the beautiful plump lips turned into a little smile. He looked you up and down, checking on you. “I don’t think I’ll need the jacket back. You look better on it anyway.” His eyes were locked at you, and only you. You had to remind yourself to breathe, because, God Jake was so hot. 

That day he opted to wear just a normal white shirt with dark jeans and black shoes. At first he thought about really getting his jacket back, because you didn’t know that but that jacket was his favorite. But as soon as he put his eyes on you and noticed how cute you looked with his clothing piece seeming too big like an oversized one, he gave up.

“H-hi,” you damned yourself for stuttering, being fully aware that your friends looked as astonished as you at that moment, but for different reasons. You started to get the jacket off your body by saying “Of course I have to give it bac–”, he shushed you with his index finger before you could finish and your eyes widened, making you stop all your movements.

“Don’t worry, I meant it when I say you look good on it,” you gulped as you nodded speechless. “Here,” he handed you a little paper and your shaky hands took it, you saw numbers written. “It’s my number, you can text me whenever, yeah?” He licked his lips suddenly feeling nervous.

Apparently being around you was an easy break of his flirtatious self. However, he forced himself on this one and said “I gotta go now, I’m kinda late,” he ruffled your hair gently before leaning close to whispering on your left ear, lips lightly touching your skin “See you around, sugar.”

You immediately choked on your own saliva, your cheeks burning like hell, fully unable to say a word. “And bye to you both as well!” Jake referred to the girls as he started to run down the corridor to his own campus building. 

“Bye!” both Yunjin and Chaewon said in unison. You had to blink twice before realizing what just happened. “Girl!!!” Yunjin screamed and you noticed Chaewon covering her mouth as well. “What the fuck?!?!” 

“I–” you tried saying anything but you couldn’t, not only because of your own brain turning into mush, but because your friends were way too hyped and interrupted you. 

“The way he looked at you?”

“THE PET NAMES!!!”

“‘Pretty one’!? He so down bad, what the actual fuck?”

“And he’s cute as hell!!!”

You were overwhelmed with all of that, walking just because the two girls were forcing you to move forward while keeping squealing about Jake's actions. 

“I know that nose can do wonders,” Yunjin said cheekily as soon as you sat in your class seats and you immediately turned to look at her with a terrified expression.

“Huh Yunjin!!!”, you smacked her shoulder with wide eyes and she just laughed together with Chaewon. 

As your ordinary Monday normally would go, you were now sitting under a tree reading the latest book your teacher assigned for an assignment. You always loved to take a break from the library and to literally touch some grass, using your free time to catch up with all the paperwork you needed.

A shadow approached you, blocking the sunlight and catching your attention. You didn’t expect to see Jake hovering over you. With a raised eyebrow, you asked. “Are you following me?”

“No, I just missed you.” He ironized, taking a seat near you and looking at your book. “You’re such a nerd,” he mimicked your position, so his head was also resting on the tree behind you two but he was facing you. Too close. 

You nervously gulped before saying, “Yeah, cuz I’m the one who likes to show myself off to a girl talking about Theory of relativity and other physical terms”, you sounded too sarcastic and instantly felt bad. “I’m not complaining, by the way,” you whispered looking away, part of you hoping for him not to hear but due to the proximity he obviously heard. And smiled.

Jake was afraid you could hear his heartbeats at that moment. Your side profile enchanted him in ways he could not describe. Your shy little smile got him thinking if it would be too weird to take a picture to have it with him forever.

He looked away, enjoying the silence.

“It’s very calm over here,” he said in a deep low voice, resting his chin on his knee. You took advantage of him not facing you anymore and watched him as he watched other people wander around, almost forgetting to say something back.

“Yeah, I like it here because it’s always calm like this,” he looked back at you when you talked. You forced yourself to keep eye contact for as long as you could, trying your best to ignore your burning cheeks. 

Jake looked away. You noticed he was flustered too. 

“And what about you, Jakey?” The little nickname spilling out your mouth like sugar, he almost melted. “Isn’t your campus like a few blocks from here?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, but I’ve got like an hour to spare before my next class.” You hummed. “So I decided to come over and thought I could maybe bump into you again,” he slyly smiled at you. You laughed at the term he used. 

“But I can go away if you want me to, sweetheart.”

You instantly shook off your head and almost grabbed his arm as if trying to stop him from getting up. “You can stay.”

“Okay.”

And he did. 

There was a brief silence moment before you plucked up the courage to ask. “What’s with the pet names?”

“You don’t like them?”

The worried puppy eyes he gave you almost broke your heart. “It’s not that… It’s just, y'know…”, you shrugged, trying to find the right way to put it. “Do you use them with everyone?”

You needed to know. You noticed Jake shuffling on his seat a bit, as if he was uncomfortable. And well, he wasn't fully comfortable either. There was no good explanation to why he called you all of that, and no, he didn’t use pet names with no other people but you. He dated two other girls before and of course called them cute pet names while being with them, but now you were the only one on his mind since the first encounter and he could not help it.

Jake was a believer of “love at first sight”, however he understood the necessity of getting to know the other person if he wanted to build something with them and never really got carried away with the primary delusional feeling.

With you he was kinda different. He let his flirtatious side shine way more easily than he would normally do. When he noticed how cute the girl who bumped on his chest that day was, he just let it all out. Little did you know that his first instinct of flirting with you was due to his nervousness. 

Now he would be down to a one night stand type of thing if you wanted to, but didn’t sound right to do so. You looked too precious to him. He wanted to be close to you and get to know every single piece of you before anything. He wanted to know your likings, interests and overall personality.

He could let himself fall in love with you.

Immersed in his own thoughts, he didn’t even realize he had become quiet and left you hanging kinda in a compromised position.

“You know what? Forget it,” you shook it off, feeling embarrassed. It wasn't like he owes you any explanation about his life or what he does with it. If he decided to play with your feelings, then you should know your position of not falling for it. “Tell me something very nerdy about your area,” you asked brightly. “I’ve got a few minutes still.”

You noticed how bold you became around Jake. Apparently that's how it worked between you two. 

He would be the one starting the whole thing, making you get too flustered for your own good with the cute names and shameless flirting, until he breaks out the character for a few seconds, enough for you to be the audacious one and make him blush.

At some point you started to get used to Jake’s presence in your everyday life. Both of you would constantly reach for the other during free time just to hang out, and sometimes to grab some food together. Yet you never let him get too close, fearing that you would let yourself get too attached to the feeling. You made it a rule not to fall for him and you’ve been holding on so far, even with Jake making it way too difficult. 

Jake was sweet, caring and not afraid to express his feelings when he needed to. Not only that but he also would remember little details about you, like your favorite coffee order or the fact that you can only listen to the first half of a song because you think the rest sucks – Jake always skips it when playing on his car radio. 

He got along with your friends easily as he’s a well spoken person as well, and even introduced you to his own friends. You met Heeseung and Sunghoon, the last one being a classmate of Jake while Heeseung studied music, both older than you. You found out that Heeseung was the said friend who made Jake wander around your campus causing the whole bumping-into-each-other situation and it became an inside joke among all of you.

Jake made it normal to ask you out from time to time within the excuse that both of you were overwhelmed with the university duties and deserved to see the outside world.

So after today’s classes you walked down the parking lot after receiving a text from him saying he would take you to a place – he refused to tell you where you were going. 

He was already waiting for you, being too attractive as he leaned against his car while looking at something on his phone. Your heart started to pump fast in your chest, making you take a few deep breaths beforehand. 

“Hey,” you greeted when you got closer and he glanced over at you, immediately opening a big smile and embracing you in a hug.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you took your sweet time to feel the warmth of his body and perfume. “Ready to go?” 

You moved back from the hug and watched as he opened the door car for you.

“Mhm, but you got me extra curious, so I’m having high expectations,” you tried to exaggerate in your words in order to get a little hint, but of course Jake was already getting immune to your tricks at this point so he just laughed.

“I’m sure you’ll like it, sweetheart.”

You settled yourself in his car, feeling way too comfortable with the amount of time you already spended there with him as you threw your bag on the backseats and chose the song for the trip. 

Jake dared you to show him your favorite songs every time you two drove together, but you wanted to get to know his music taste as well so you two decided to alternate who chose the songs for that day. And it was your turn.

“Paramore for today, huh?” He pointed out with a small smile.

“Yeah, you don’t like it?” 

“I love it.”

One of the reasons your heart beat fast when around Jake was the freedom to be yourself and just do whatever you wanted to do, without even noticing you caused the same to him with your charming behavior. Every time he stopped at a red light he would look at you bobbing your head and lip syncing to the lyrics excitedly while doing a little dance. 

He tried his best to not show how dearing he was looking at you, but you caught the cute brown eyes facing your side from time to time and the only reaction from both of you was to look away and blush. 

As the conversation flowed, he shared a bit of his day to you, telling about how stressed he has been because of his study partner being a pain in his ass, and the only hint of where you were going he let out was “And because of that, I need to de-stress and that’s why we goin’ where we goin’”. 

You pouted and forced the best puppy eye you could while looking at his direction. He almost broke out. “You’re mean. You don’t make a girl curious like that.”

“Don’t worry, we are almost there.”

You gave up trying to figure out where you were going and hoped for the best. You knew that with Jake nothing could be bad, because his presence alone was enough. 

Jake felt similar to you, not admitting out loud that just the fact that you were with him already reduced a lot of his stress. You may not know that but everyday he was eagerly waiting for the moment you both would meet during the day, and when you couldn't find time to do so, he was thrilled to receive a simple text from you.

Your presence was enough to make him happy.

It didn't take longer than a few songs for you to arrive at the place you instantly recognized as a beach.

“A beach?” You sounded excited, but also a bit confused. You don’t think you have clothes to enter the water and the sun was already starting to set, so you didn’t get much of his idea at first.

Jake parked the car and as usual, he opened the door for you. “Yep. I know it’s kinda late for a swim or anything like that, but it wasn’t planning to do anyways,” he helped you to get out.

Normally he would let your hand go as soon as you felt stable on your feet after leaving the car, but that day he decided to hold your hand as he gently pulled you in the direction he wanted to take you.

You said nothing. How could you? The slender fingers holding yours had broken you down. The air felt thick in your airways as you walked alongside him, heart beating louder and louder while you watched the beautiful view of the sun finding its way down the horizon. The cold breeze hit your face and brought so much peace to your inner self. You could live forever like that.

Jake suddenly stopped walking and since you were a bit behind him, you bumped slightly at his back, hands still together. You looked over his shoulder and gasped. The place you two were now had a better view of the sunsetting and the waves calmly hitting the rocks sounded way too heavenly.

You blinked slowly, reluctantly letting Jake hand go as you walked a bit forward. Behind you, he watched as your hair flew due the breeze.

"It's so pretty..." you uttered under your breath, mesmerized by the look of the orange and pinkish colored sky. You felt like crying. 

He took a few steps and glanced at your serene expression. 

While you enjoyed the view, Jake enjoyed you.

"Yeah, very pretty."

You had no clue of how fast Jake’s heart was beating right now. He was hypnotized by you, a sudden urge to kiss you building up his mind right away. 

“I now understand why you come here to de-stress”, you said after a while, the sound of your sweet voice bringing him back to reality. He had literally lost himself on you at that very moment. 

You lazily smiled, feeling extra calm and glanced at Jake, who was already looking at you with soft eyes.

“Thank you, Jakey,” you hugged him sincerely. “For bringing me here and for being here with me. I needed that.”

Jake sighed, hugging you tightly. At this point there was no way he could hide the thump-thump in his chest, and honestly? He stopped caring if you noticed or not. 

He stopped caring if you noticed he was – not so slowly – falling for you. 

It was a stressful week for you, not only were you on your period but also dealing with a bunch of deadlines. You considered throwing yourself in front of a bus when you realized how left behind you were in your assignments. Your finals getting closer and closer didn’t help either.

For good and long days you almost locked yourself at the library in order to catch up with everything, because even with the help of some friends that shared the classes with you you were barely holding on.

Jake would appear out of nowhere and give you a cup of warm coffee, some muffins and a little kiss on your forehead before heading out and letting you do your thing.

“I just wanna make sure you’re eating well, princess,” he would say every time. And no matter how lovingly his actions would be, you couldn't allow yourself to feel them because of your anxiety of failure.

And yes, ever since you asked about the nicknames and stuff he started to use them more often than your heart could handle, especially after he discovered that you liked them, even if you didn't admit it out loud.

Friday arrived. You wished you could get excited about going out to the little party Jake said Heeseung would be throwing that evening, but you needed a good night of sleep and your whole body was aching due to your period. You just wanted to sink on your bed sheets after taking a hot shower.

One thing that became normal in your life was getting a ride with Jake some days of the week, unfortunately he didn’t have any classes on fridays so you just had to walk your way home. You took your sweet time to feel the cold autumn breeze hit you on the face hoping it would take away all your stress. The buzzling sound of your phone caught your attention as you saw Jake’s text on its display.

Jakey 🐶:  Hey there princess It’s been three days since I last saw you and I’m ngl, I kinda miss your pretty face lol I hope you’re doing well I left you a little smth at your apartment.  At the door, ofc Don’t freak out, I didn’t stole your keys or broke into your house or smth Please, don’t stress yourself too much <3 And dw, I’m not mad you’re not going to the party Have a good rest, pretty girl. AND PLEASE don’t forget to eat!!!!

You almost cried reading all of that and blamed your hormones for being a mess of feelings. 

You: Hi Jakey!!  Kinda miss you too you left something to me? i’m kinda scared I’m dealing with cramps rn so I’m not so fine, but I’ll eventually, dw! And yeah, I’ll make sure to eat and rest well enjoy your night, pretty boy <3

You noticed you felt much braver through texts than in person, but this was the first time you were the one using a nickname so you were shaking a bit.

Jakey 🐶: AJDKSSJDJS SORRy I Yeah, uhm No need to be scared, princess, I’m sure you’ll like it  Cramps? Take on some medicine, please!! Do u want me to come over? Are u home yet?

He sounded so desperate and nervous that genuinely made you laugh out loud. But with a simple text back saying “no, you go enjoy your night out and I’ll enjoy my bed” you finished the conversation as you finally arrived home. 

Near your apartment’s doormat, there was a pretty bouquet of daisies alongside a little box of chocolates. You noticed a little hand note inside the bouquet. 

“I remember you saying you like these flowers and everyday I pass by a flower shop and always think about buying it for you, so today I finally did. There’s chocolate too. Hope you like it.

Have a good rest, princess.

Jake”

You took a deep breath in order to hold back the tears trying to escape. Not falling for Jake was a difficult rule to follow, and you didn’t know if you wanted to keep doing it anymore.

“So what you're telling me is that Jake left his house on a fucking Sunday morning and brought you ice cream because you... were feeling too lazy to go buy it yourself?”

“When you put it like that…” 

Chaewon, Yunjin and you were sitting at one of the furthest tables in the cafeteria that you usually went to when the three of you wanted to gossip or just meet to catch things up. It was a late afternoon on a Tuesday and you barely had time to see them in the last few days, mainly because you had missed a few classes to finish reading other teachers' required books.

“The real question is: why aren’t both of you dating already?” 

Yunjin was flabbergasted by what you were describing about Jake. There’s no way that guy wasn’t in love with you at this point. She didn't understand what was taking you so long to ask him out already, especially because she noticed that Jake was kinda holding himself back.

“Yeah! He follows you like a little puppy and looks at you like you are a goddess or something!” Chaewon added. “I mean, you are a goddess, but to get someone to look at you like that?!”

“Girl, you gotta bag him ASAP!” Yunjin playfully pushed your shoulder, but you weren't feeling that happy about all of it.

You sighed. “But what if I’m just a fun little game to him?”

“What?!” It was funny the way both of them said in unison, but instead of laughing you just continued with a sad voice tone.

“Y’know, he’s been flirting with me since the very beginning. I don’t know. Part of me believes his words and actions, they seem genuine. But the other part is way too afraid of trusting too much,” a single tear ran down your cheek as you frowned. “I don’t want to be hurt again.” You whispered as you looked down. 

“Baby,” Yunjin, who was sitting next to you, hugged you sideways and planted a sweet little kiss on top of your head. “We know you’ve been through a lot of shit because of your stupid ex, but I don’t think Jake’s like that.”

Chaewon, who was in front of you, took your hand in hers as she spoke. “Yeah, and you know, If he tries something or if he dares to break your heart, you’ll always have me to make his life a living hell.”

You smiled through the tears running down all over your face. With a reassuring look, Yunjin asked. 

“Give it a try, yeah?”

Jake knew what he was getting himself into. He would be fine if you put him in the friendship side, but the thought of having you to himself pleased him way too much. The idea of other guys touching you the ways he wanted to, knowing that none of them would treat you right, consumed his mind as much as the vision of your pretty smile. 

The urge of getting physically closer to you was itching him incessantly. 

Ever since he discovered that he was in fact falling in love with you, he became unable to get you out of his head. It was like a kind of mantra that chanted your name every time he saw something that reminded him of you, and almost everything reminded him of you.

He didn't had the courage to ask you out on a proper date so far, because even though the both of you had developed an incredibly nice friendship, he was too afraid that he was seeing beyond reality because of his delusional self, and more than that he was scared as hell of losing you. 

You probably only thought of him as a friend who you could playfully flirt with, he would say to himself. At the same time, the way he sometimes caught you looking at him seemed much more loving than it should.

There seemed to be more love than friendship in that relationship of yours. 

He was also having to deal with the hard job of avoiding kissing you. Recently he found himself getting lost on your lips too often. A dangerous play. Still he kept you as close as he could, hugging you or having at least one of his arms around your shoulder or waist in order to fulfill a bit of his neediness. 

Thinking about you and only you, he sighed, finishing his business at his locker, finally reaching the book he was looking for and placing it in his backpack. 

"Ok, quick question", Jake almost screamed at your sudden appearance when he closed the metal door, widening his eyes and dramatically putting a hand on his chest. You laughed. 

"Firstly, what are you doing here?” He said after catching his breath. “Secondly, why do you like to scare me so much?", he kinda whined and you laughed.

"I just wanted to know if your name is really Jake or if it's a nickname", you smiled innocently. Jake on the other side of the hand didn't buy your "pure" expression, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Why would you run all the way through here just to ask about my full name, which I’m pretty sure you already know?" He wasn't buying any of that.

"Because I wanna manifest you in my life," you answered like it was obvious and you both began to walk side by side. You were going to be very late to your class but your professor has to understand that sometimes you have more important things to do other than attend classes.

"I thought I was already in your life...?" Jake was trully confused.

"Yeah, but I kinda wanna you in my life more than just what you are right now.”

"What are you talking about, Y/N?" Saying your name was an indicator that either he was serious or very confused, either way you didn't care much so you just carried on with your talking. 

“Go on a date with me.” He stopped walking and so did you. Jake looked at you, blinking without saying a word. "On a date, you know,” you motioned with your hands, losing a bit of the courage you had to build up to do all of that. “We go to someplace, grab some food, wait for the night to fall down and boom, stargazing while we talk about our amazing theories of life or whatever.”

Jake gulped, scratching the back of his neck nervously. Normally he would be the one programming the whole thing and just saying you are both heading to somewhere, but to have you asking like that… If he understood it right, you were asking him to go on a real date.

"Sounds like something we already do." He let out a breathy and nervous laugh, still trying to thoroughly understand what you were saying, looking if there was some kind of joke hidden behind your eyes. 

You looked extra attractive today, as if you dressed yourself up just for this moment. Just for him. He noticed you were wearing his jacket as well.

"It pretty much is, but at the end of this one I want to be able to kiss you,” you said in one go. “On the lips, if it's not clear."

Jake now was more speechless and completely baffled than ever. He was sure he was dreaming. It became normal routine for him to dream of you lately so of course this was all a trick of his own mind trying to compensate for his neediness of you. 

He was so fucking dreaming.

With the lack of response, you thought you fucked up. 

“I-I’m sorry, I–”, you started as you felt your confidence running away from you immediately. “Just forget about what I just said, I should not have said anything to begin with. I’m so sorry, ok?” You noticed your hands trembling. Due to your nervousness, everything you had on the back of your mind just went out. “I don't know what I was thinking when I decided to come here and try to take our relationship to a next level or something. But it's been so hard to be around you without wanting you even closer,” you whined. “And I finally got the courage to ask you out on a proper date, but you clearly don't see us like that so forget about it. I’m sor–”

No one. Not a single soul could prepare you to be silenced by Jake’s lips on yours. His hand automatically grabbed your waist as yours went to rest on his chest.

Kissing in the middle of the university hallway wasn’t the ideal way of tasting each other's for the first time so Jake decided to not take too long on holding the contact, breaking it to say “I’m sorry, I needed you to shut up.” His lips brushed on yours as he spoke. You blinked twice and breathed heavily, feeling the touch of his warm hand on your skin as he cupped one of your cheeks. You looked for his brown honeyed orbs, catching them exchanging glances between your lips and your eyes. 

 “We can go out on a date,” he brushed his thumb softly on your bottom lip. “The one where we go to some place, grab some food, do whatever you want and I can properly kiss you.”

Jake was fighting demons not to kiss you again. He was absolutely certain he would go crazy, just a little taste of you and he already felt like he was starving, his body totally dependent and reactive because of you. 

“Okay,” your voice was barely a whisper and you had to use all your strength to stop yourself from leaning in to feel his touch again. Instead, you reluctantly pulled away, immediately missing all of his touches; you felt your skin tingle in every place he had touched you. Still his hand rested on your waist, unable to let you go. “I gotta go,” you noticed how his eyes wandered all over your face, like he was taking a picture with it in order to save it from the rest of the day.

You smiled, hesitantly sliding your hands away from his chest. 

“Alright, sweetheart,” before you could let him go, he grabbed one of your hands and planted a gentle kiss at the back of it. “I’ll text you later then?”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

You had to hold a scream when you heard your doorbell ringing. Chaewon and Yunjin who were in a shared video call squealed for you.

They looked more excited than yourself and you really appreciated the effort they took to help you out even with their busy schedule for the day, deciding to call you not only because they knew you would be nervous as fuck but also because Yunjin was willing to help you with your outfit choice.

You ended up wearing something cute, but cozy and warm: a matching pair of a top and long loose skirt, patterned with a black background and some stars and moons, a black boot and as a final touch: Jake’s big jacket. You also did a little hairstyle with two small braids at the front and the rest of your hair loose. 

Yunjin noticed how confident you were in choosing the clothing and even doing your hair, showing that you didn’t need much of her help – which normally she would dramatically react to, but today she just felt proud and happy for you.

Jake made you comfortable enough to be yourself whenever you were with him.

And you were going on a date with him.

A fucking proper date.

You said a quick ‘goodbye’ to your girls who replied with a very high pitched ‘good luck!’ and then hung up, walking towards the door and needing to take a few deep breaths before opening it.

As you did, you greeted a very smiley – and hot – Jake.

He was glowing. 

Not only was his face glowing but he seemed overall confident. He was wearing a reddish flannel jacket that covered an oversized black shirt together with his everyday silver necklace, jeans and black boots. A perfect combo, especially to you who loved to see a man in red – you once told him about this preference of yours and was questioning if he did it on purpose.

The silky brown strands fell perfectly in place again when Jake ran his hand through it and licked his lips after shamelessly checking you out.

“Hi b– Oh my god, you look stunning.”

Early the day through your texts you decided to go simple but special on the planning due lack of time. The whole idea was kinda in a hurry, but after getting to taste a little of how it is to kiss Jake, you needed the action of kissing him to become an everyday routine as soon as possible, so the initial plan – the date will be happening on a chill day for both of you, mostly likely Friday – was replaced by a very eagerly “Ok, I’m taking you to a place” said by you.

“And you look hot,” the wording flew out your mouth faster than you expected and instantly your eyes went wide.

Jake smirked as he leaned into the door frame. “Appreciate it, baby.”

Baby.

You were so fucked up. There’s no way your heart could handle this the whole night. 

Jake noticed the way you just blinked at him without saying a word and he just knew you were absorbing the whole situation before becoming confident over him. It was the way you worked and he loved that. 

So he decided to take his sweet time and take a bit of advantage over your flustered self as he walked closer to you. “I brought what you asked,” he sounded a bit too sexy saying such simple words and little did you know that he deepened his voice a bit just for fun.

Due to the closeness, Jake scented your perfume and swore he was getting drunk, too intoxicated by your sweet smell.

You looked at the bag he lifted and nodded, fully in a trance. You forced yourself to snap out of it as you reminded yourself you have a fucking date and finally spoke “Oh, right. I’ll go pick up what I’ve prepared for us!” You walked towards the kitchen. “Do you want anything? Water maybe?”

“Just you.”

You choked on your own saliva as your cheeks started to burn. You foolishly thought that at least Jake wasn’t aware of your reaction, but as soon as you got back from the kitchen after picking up the picnic basket with the sandwiches you made, you realized he was very much aware and messing with you with the flirting as usual. You could see in his eyes a strange mix of false innocence and mischievousness. And of course, in that little game of yours you would always win.

“Well, you already have me,” you winked at him as you pulled yourself together and now was time for Jake to lose his composure, blushing. “Let's go?”

“Y-yeah.”

You gave him an address and he drove you both to the place, fully trusting you. You wanted to surprise Jake since he was usually the one who surprised you, but you hadn't gotten your driver's license yet so you needed him to do the driving in order to achieve your goal. That's why you decided to give him an address a little further away from your final destination, so both of you could walk there without him suspecting anything.

Jake was feeling like a happy puppy, very excited about what was going to happen tonight.

He was curious about your plans, especially after you asked for a picnic blanket and some beverages – “a night picnic?” he asked as you two texted. He remembers you just replying with “lol don’t fool yourself”.

He didn’t know what to expect about the place really, and not only that, he couldn’t stand the urge to kiss you properly. God, he was so in need of you it hurted. Having you next to him, your scent all over him, your sweet and lively presence, and not being able to touch you was driving him insane.

“I don’t wanna you to get high on expectations, Jakey,” you said softly after a while with a concerned voice. Jake had stopped at a red light and the silence wasn’t awkward, but it was undeniable that you were worried about the outcome of that night. 

What if Jake doesn’t like what you’ve prepared? What if he thinks you’re too dumb and leaves you? What if he doesn’t really wanna be with you? 

“I’ll like whatever you’ve planned, sweetheart,” just like Jake was reading how anxious was your mind, he uttered. “You are my company for tonight. That’s all I need,” he reassured you, holding your hand and resting it on your thigh. 

You glanced over at him to see his lips turned into such a gorgeous smile you almost cried. Jake was perfect.

“Okay,” you brought his hand to your lips and planted a small kiss. You tried to let it go after, but he refused.

Jake drove the rest of the way holding you, only letting it go when needed, but catching it again as soon as he could.

The warmth and softness of his touch took all the worry out of your head in a minute, and just like you arrived. Jake parked where you told him to do so and opened the car door and helped you to get out as usual. This time though he intertwined your fingers as he let you guide him through the way. 

“Don’t we need to bring the things?” 

“Nah, we have something to do before,” you tried to sound enigmatic, forcing an expression which made Jake laugh, totally endeared by you.

“Ooh, so mysterious.”

You both walked for a bit rambling about the surroundings. It was kinda in the middle of nowhere, with nothing much around and plenty of open space. Jake noticed there was a big building and before he could say a thing, you began to explain.

“So I know we both like astronomical stuff, right?” He nodded, looking at you. So pretty. “May I say you especially in a very nerdy way,” you softly pushed his shoulder with yours and he playfully rolled his shining eyes while failing to hold back a smile, full of adoration for you. “I thought about this when I realized I wanted to be more than just friends with you,” you stopped walking to completely face him, holding both of his hands. “Behind you at this exact moment there’s a stellar observatory,” you stopped him from turning around wanting to finish your speech first. “Apparently fate had worked through this, since today they don’t normally open to everyone. Only for reservations or something like that.”

You finally let Jake turn around and take a proper look at the place. You watched as his eyes began to shine even brighter, it looked like he was about to cry. You also noticed how his hand tightened around yours, as if he was nonverbally thanking you.

Jake was genuinely flabbergasted. How the fuck did he managed to find someone that amazing? 

“I’m not gonna ask how you managed to get a reservation here,” he joked.

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?” He just laughed it off. “Well, I kinda didn’t,” you suddenly felt small, even tried to restrain your hand from his but he refused to let you go.

You ran away from his intense gazing, not wanting to see the disappointment on it as you kept talking “We’re not going into the observatory. We’re gonna use the telescopes they have open for use down here,” you explained. “Since today it’s a reservation only or whatever day, we get to use it freely. It’s definitely not the same thing, but I’m sure it can be cool.” you forced a smile still afraid to look at Jake’s direction. “I tried to book it for us I swear I did, but it was too expensive,” you uttered apologetically and again you were rambling due to your nervousness.

Jake not saying a thing helped nothing either. Little did you know he was as speechless as amazed with your witty self for figuring out a way of making that night special in such a short amount of time. He knew how hard it is to come up with ideas like that and to make it work. And you did it. Flawlessly. 

He was so falling in love with you.

“...I’m so sorry if I raised your expectations too high. I wanted to do something nice since you’re always doing nice things to me, you deserve bett–” 

Jake once more interrupted your nonsense speech by pressing his lips on yours and you instantly melted in his arms, your hands moving up to find comfort on his shoulders as his own went down your back until they rested on your waist, squeezing lightly. 

You moved your head to the side wishing to deepen the kiss, the whole fantasy of waiting for the special moment to finally kiss him was already blown apart as both of your bodies searched for the other’s. 

Your heart was beating fast and all your senses were heightened and sensitive, as if Jake had awakened a new sensation in you. A genuine sense of desperation for closeness. You needed more. Like reading your mind, Jake’s tongue touched your bottom lip at the same time your fingers scratched the back of his head, getting lost through his soft strands as you pulled him closer.

Jake touched you with care, he was kissing you so tenderly yet you could still feel his hunger for you. You weren’t different either. One of his hands came up to hold your face to help with the movement of your heads. You quickly found a pace, like two puzzle pieces being a perfect fit.

Neither of you wanted to part away, feeling too addicted to the contact. So whenever one broke down to breathe the other would reach over and start again, until your lips were a little bit sore. You pulled away unwilling, leaving little pecks on his plump lips as he did the same on yours.

Jake was unable to hold back his smile and didn’t even tried to, too happy about finally kissing you. “We have a little problem, baby,” he whispered as his dazzling eyes wandered all over your features. You looked even more stunning under the moonlight. “What?” You quietly asked back. “I don’t think I can or want to stop kissing you.”

You giggled, feeling shy under his intense but gentle gaze. He was adoring you and you could feel every piece of it.

“You don’t have to stop.”

And just like that you kissed again. And again. And again. 

You felt like a drug to Jake, so addictive, so intense, so you. He had the impression that all his problems would be solved instantly if you just kissed him. He decided that from now on at the end of a stressful day, he would search for your touch and your touch only.

“But I kinda want you to stop for a bit, so we can go see the stars,” Jake chuckled when you broke the kiss to say. 

“You love stars, don’t you, pretty girl?” He gave you a final cute little smooch while hugging you tightly. 

“Yeah.”

And even though you had observed dozens of stars that night, none of them shone brighter than your eyes together. 

You were dating. 

Actually there was no big difference from what you and Jake acted before, other than the fact that everyday that he went to pick you up to the university, you got to kiss him, which made you two develop the routine of waking a bit early just to get enough moments together. 

Also you started to feel comfortable to call him cute names, your favorite being pretty boy, very effectively when you wanted to fluster Jake and see him giggling.

The dynamic was similar, but way better.

When you told your friends about the night, they literally screamed. Of course you kept as a secret how romantic it was to lay down under the moon and starlight with Jake as you cuddled and shared kisses. But everything about Jake sounded dreamy. 

He was so cute and you were not so slowly falling in love. He would leave you at your classes everyday and kiss you good luck. Due to his recent research project his time was getting tighter, nevertheless he would squeeze his whole schedule just to see you for a minute or two. And of course, to steal a kiss from you. 

Most of your lunch time was with him, either when you had time to grab some food and eat in peace or when some of you two were in a hurry. On days like that, you normally would find him in the library, leaving him some snacks, water and a sweet kiss. He would do something similar to you. 

Gradually your relationship was growing stronger, however you still hadn’t done anything on the bed yet other than kiss and sleep together. You weren’t complaining! You loved to kiss Jake and to feel his warm body embracing yours.

He was very respectful towards you and you really appreciated that. He would initiate the kisses sessions most of the time, but rarely deepen it waiting for you to do it. His hands would never go further down your hips, even when you tried to force him to do it by putting it on your ass he relocated them back up.

But you were a woman after all. A woman with desires and needs. Strong desires and needs.

Even though you had a long-term relationship, it was only after the breakup that you discovered that your ex didn't give you any pleasure – or gave you anything at all. Your previous relationship was a mess, to be honest. Talking to people and listening to their experiences made you realize how shitty you were being treated back then – in every aspect!

You knew how to please yourself and most of the time was enough. However, it’s been a while since you last had sex and you could live without it normally, but there was Jake, all over you.

His smell, his pretty face, his touches, his lips, his fucking nose and his slender fingers… The way his veiny hands would hold the steering wheel drove you insane. You needed him.

It was a cold Saturday and you were watching him play your video game. Yeah, apparently Jake liked your video game more than you – this was you being dramatic every single time he stopped to pay all of his attention to you and decided to play something, but as soon as he starts to celebrate for defeating a boss, you just smile and forget about the drama.

Today was a bit different though. Normally you would pay attention to either the screen or to his pretty face and reactions, loving how expressive he was, always thinking Jake was a sculpture or something. But on this very specific day you paid more attention to his hand movements. 

The way his grip was strong on the controller and how his fingers moved on it was making you mad. He was biting his lip more than usual as well in order to concentrate and, God, you could feel your panties get wet just by watching him like that. 

Part of you felt like a perverted. 

At some point he groaned. Apparently something bad happened to him on the game, but you didn’t gave a fuck. The sound he left woken a strong feeling inside you.

“Why is this so difficult?” Jake asked frustrated, throwing the controller away on the couch in defeat and looking at you.

He wasn't expecting to meet your intense gaze on him, eyes darkened as your tongue traveled through your lips to wet it. 

His confused puppy eyes and parted lips were your last straw. 

You straddled over his lap, hungrily kissing him. You almost instantly sucked his bottom lip, looking for a more intense contact. You could feel he was a bit confused, hesitantly resting his big hands on your hips, not knowing what to do.

When you bite his lip you heard a whimper and that alone made you grunt against Jake’s mouth in response, pulling him even closer. You pulled a few strands of his hair and again he let out a sound for you, feeling him getting hard beneath your body.

Before you could continue doing your job, he said in an urge, his breath heavy. “I gotta go.”

You shook off your head whispering “No,” and pulled him again to keep making out with him, lewd kissing sounds filling the room, a total mess happening in your living room.

The feeling of his hardened bulge hitting directly on your covered wet cunt was making you rub yourself against it, hoping to get more friction. At this exact moment Jake forced you to move away from him, gripping your hips to stop your movements. 

“I really gotta go, I have some uni stuff to do,” he was breathless. You noticed how his eyes were different from ever, face red and skin hot. You blinked a few times as you just watched him put you back on the couch and stand up, trying to cover his obvious boner with his oversized jacket. He gave you a little kiss on the cheek and said goodbye to you before rushing out of your apartment. 

You had to satisfy yourself alone that night. And after that, you cried.

You started to question yourself. 

Yeah, Jake looked at you like you were the only one in his life. But was it enough? Does he find you attractive? Or better: does he find you desirable? Sexy? Hot? Sensual?

Since that day Jake started to run away from your more passionate touches like he was running from death. 

At first you thought he could be a virgin, and no problem with that. You would let him feel comfortable enough with you to try to do something more, however you knew he had other relationships and weren’t inexperienced either. 

Actually you even went to Sunghoon and Heeseung to ask them about it, to which they answered that Jake may be “boyfriend material” and only have intimate moments with people he somehow trusts, but he definitely wasn't inexperienced in that field.

So doubting yourself was your only option. You could also ask directly why he never did more than just kisses with you, but that option needed more courage from you than you had. 

“What’s with the frown, baby?” Yunjin asked you one day as you both decided to lunch together. You were giving excuses to Jake during the whole day in order not to talk to him, saying you were too busy and that maybe today you wouldn’t be able to meet him.

You sighed, playing with the food on your plate. “I don’t think Jake likes me.”

“What? There’s no way. He almost licks the floor you walk on. What did he do?” She was ready to throw hands.

“The real problem it’s the opposite. He don’t do it.”

“Do what, baby?”

“We’ve been dating for weeks and we haven't had sex yet. I’m almost crawling on my bedroom walls.”

“Wow,” Yunjin was shocked, eyes widened. For the way you two acted together, she thought that every single room of your house was blessed already. “Well, have you asked him why? Because that’s pretty much a ‘he’ problem as it seems.”

“I’m afraid,” you stated sincerely. 

“Of what, baby?”

“Of him saying something I don’t wanna hear. I don’t wanna lose him, Jinnie,” you uttered with sorrow. 

“Y/N, my pretty baby, remember we are talking about Jake. The man who woke up in the middle of the night and went to your house to kill a cockroach because you called him. The man who has a photo of you in his wallet. The man who had literally skipped classes just to spend some time with you because apparently he can’t live without you,” you started sobbing. “He likes you very much, Y/N. And he has shown to be someone who listens to you with adoration. Anything you say or ask him he would do his best to listen and talk about it, you yourself said that to me once when we were ranking green flags, remember?” You nodded. 

It was the truth. He was Jake. The man who demonstrates so much affection in every action. 

“I’ll talk to him. Thank you, Jinnie.”

“You don’t need to thank me, sweetie.” She kissed the top of your head. “You know I’m always here for you and just want you to be happy. You deserve it.”

You decided to talk to Jake on the next day. You weren't planning to “arrange a sex meeting with him” or anything similar, but to talk about it. So you invited him over that day, knowing he would be completely free because it was a Friday. You did a test early that day and were free as well.

Since he was going to your apartment quite often you gave him a key to make things easier for both of you, so when you heard the front door opening as you drank some water your heart started to beat fast in advance.

His scent followed all the way through your house directly to you. You felt his arms hugging you from behind and for a few seconds you let yourself get lost in his warmth. “Hey, gorgeous. How are you?” He whispered close to your ear, kissing your neck. You turned around to face him. “You look sad. What happened? Are you ok?” He flooded you with questions as his eyes worriedly wandered over your face. You just pecked him quickly before taking his hand on yours and leading him to the couch. 

Jake felt his heart sinking.

He maybe was going crazy, but he felt that you had purposely ignored him the day before, constantly finding a rather lame excuse for every solution he gave. He preferred to believe that you were not having a good day and respected your decision. But when you invited him over, it became undeniable how anxious he was feeling.

And the way you welcomed him at that moment made him even more worried, especially when you said the cursed phrase.

“I wanna talk to you about something.”

He swallowed, trying to keep it cool by saying gently “What is it, sugar?” as he reached for your hands to mildly squeeze it in reassurance. 

Even though Jake was quite tense, he would always prioritize you and the fact that you had some difficulty verbalizing what normally was bothering you, so he knew it was consuming you just as much.

“I– Actually I don’t even know how to say it,” you started shyly with a low voice, avoiding Jake’s gaze. “But I’m…”

“Y’know you can say anything to me, right?” Jake tried to encourage you as he gently pulled you closer and just like that you moved to sit on his lap, each of your knees on either side of his legs as you trapped him underneath you.

Without saying a thing, you hugged him to hide your face on his neck. Jake wasn’t fully aware of what was happening, but he wanted to give you some comfort so his hands caressed your back slowly.

After a while you muffled his skin with your breath while asking “Do you think I’m unattractive?”

Oh?

Jake had a delayed reaction to your question. “Baby, what?”

You drew apart from him enough to see his confused expression before looking away. “I don’t know if you aren’t sexually attracted to me or what, but you can always tell me y’know. I’m sure we can figure something out,” your voice was almost a whisper due your worried self about confrontations. 

“Baby, I’m so confused right now. What are you talking about?”

“I– I’d prefer you saying to my face you don’t wanna have sex with me instead of pulling me away from you every time we go further with our kisses,” as you finished saying, you felt your cheeks burning. 

Jake frowned, completely baffled.

Little did you know that Jake lost track of how many times he woke up with a painful boner after dreaming of you. Or how fast he would run away from you after a makeout session with you because of his body response to it.

He would first try to cool down with a shower, but everytime he ended up jerking himself off to get some relief, you being the only one in his mind, always moaning your name when cumming.

But, God, every single time he felt nasty, disgusted with himself. You deserved better. You're like a divinity to him, a beautiful and sweet woman, you needed to be handled with care and love and he was so afraid of hurting you.

The day you told him about your ex and how badly he treated you, especially in the sexual field  by not caring about anything but his own pleasure, Jake got mad. Really mad. 

How could one in their right mind leave you hanging, when your expressions of pleasure alone were enough to drive any man crazy? He could treat you way better. 

Sometimes Jake would get carried away while kissing you, going down to your neck to trail his lips over there biting and sucking slightly. And when he backed a bit to look at your face, he always met you with closed eyes nibbling your bottom lip, a ridiculously lustful view. 

Too hard to handle.

He had to almost physically hold himself back every time. He was afraid of scaring you with how much he needed you, with how much he wanted to get lost between your legs, making you scream nothing but his name, with how much he was willing to make you feel good.

And now he got to know that his actions were the ones making you doubt yourself, making you doubt his feelings and needs for you… He was feeling so dumb.

“I– I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

You froze. No nicknames, just your regular name.

“I never wanted to make you feel like this. I’m really sorry.”

You gulped the guilty feeling down your throat. “It’s okay, Jakey, I get it,” you smiled awkwardly, not knowing what to do next. That meant that Jake didn't want you in that way, right?

You were about to start rambling as usual and before you did so, Jake shut you up with his mouth on yours. You startled before reacting, moving your tongue with his and dipping your fingers into his silky strands, both of your bodies starting to get hotter.

Jake squeezed your ass while pulling you closer. “I want you, Y/N,” he was serious when you drew apart to catch your breath. “I want you so bad, my darling,” he was so desperate, your panties dampening just by how his voice sounded.

“Yeah?” You smirked, breathing heavy. “How bad, Jakey?” You noticed his eyes darkening. “Show me.” 

Getting back to work with his mouth in yours, kissing you very messily, Jake impulsed to stand up with you in his arms. You surrounded your legs around him to keep yourself steady as he stumbled a little on the way to your room. You giggled against his lips when he dropped you softly on the mattress and hovered over you, not breaking the kiss for a second.

Jake’s mouth tasted so sweet and hot on yours, you couldn't help but scratch his back and neck with your fingernails thinking how good he would be doing all that job down your cunt. His dick was getting harder and you could feel it, your mouth watering at the thought of sucking him off. You wanted so bad.

He parted away from your lips just to trail his own plump ones to your neck and collarbone, kissing, sucking and nibbling all the area before finally whispering against your skin, sending chills throughout your body.

“I really wanna eat you out,” Jake sounded determined. “I wanna taste you before anything, sweetheart,” your only reaction was a sigh mixed with a “please” that you were unsure if he heard.

But Jake was catching all of your sounds, from the quietest little whimpers to the slightly more intense ones, like the one you released when he removed your shirt and bra to work on your tits, his mouth sucking your left one while his hand cupped the other before he switched to do the opposite.

Before he continued to get down on you, you quietly asked him to remove his shirt and as he did, he revealed to you part of his perfect body. By the superficial touches over his clothes and of course the preview bumps, you knew he had a toned chest, but to see it all on display to you… You literally moaned at the view.

You promised yourself that later on you would give every bit of that skin the attention it deserved.

You watched him smile shyly before kissing your inner thigh, without breaking eye contact. Jake was absolutely certain he would cum in his pants at any given moment. The mix of your little sounds with the way you were looking at him like you were about to eat him alive triggered a strangely pleasant feeling. 

“Can I remove these?” He asked between kisses on your skin, pointing to your shorts. You nodded. “And these?” He pointed now to your panties and you nodded again, head resting on your pillow. “Yes, please. I want you.”

Jake noticed how wet you were through your last clothing piece and he literally had to hold himself back to not just dive right into you. He was getting dizzy by your smell, eyes hooded as he removed the only thing that stopped him from touching you like you deserved.

Jake salivated admiring your pussy, breathing heavily as he swallowed nothing.

At this point you were on the verge of crying due to your desperation and his unnecessary slowness, so you spread your legs even more and pleaded. “Please Jakey, I really want you,” you whined, grabbing his hair with your hand and forcing it down your cunt. “I don’t want you to hold yourself on me, pretty boy.”

And as if you casted a spell, Jake looked at you one more time before burying his face in you.

You gasped. 

He felt you dripping on his mouth and grunted, collecting some arousal with his tongue to spread all over your area before flicking it on your clit, sometimes sucking just the right amount and sometimes doing big licks. His tongue worked so damn well, you just rolled your hips in order to get more. You were so sensitive and so needy. His grip on each side of your body got stronger as he pulled you closer.

You moaned Jake’s name when he decided to use one of his fingers together with his mouth, pressing it on your entrance with care, just to familiarize you with the sensation before adding one more. After all, he just wanted you to feel good and not to be hurt. 

You kept rubbing yourself on his face and now grinding on the two fingers inside you. Jake was doing such an amazing job on you, curling his fingers the moment he needed to like he knew you from inside out, using the tip of his nose to rub your clit as his tongue and mouth worked in the rest.

“You’re doing such a good job, pretty boy,” you praised between moans and heard Jake groaning between your legs and intensifying his movements, eating you out as his life depended on it. 

“I wanna you to cum all over my face, princess,” he said, muffled. His skilful fingers moved at a steady pace. “I need that, give it to me, babe, please.”

Your orgasm was already building up inside your core. You felt the familiar sensation growing bigger and bigger until you let it out the loudest moan of the night as your back arched. Jake’s words and all the combo of his warm mouth and fingers inside you were enough to make you achieve your climax, trembling beneath his touches, grabbing his hair tightly.

Jake drank you like it was his favorite drink, licking every single drop of you with pleasure, his dick now painfully compressed in his boxers. He could get himself off just by eating you out.

He drove you through your high, movements slowing as he felt your grasp on his hair softening and your body less shaky. He kissed your pussy a few times and then crawled over you to kiss you on the lips. You watched your juices decorating his chin, nose and a bit on his cheeks before you felt your own taste in your mouth. 

Jake's hard, covered bulge rubbed against your bare cunt and you whined, breaking the kiss to down your hands all the way to his cock and to utter “Babe, you’re so hard.” Jake whimpered against your mouth and you flipped over to be on top of him. “Let me help you with that.”

And as you promised yourself, you trailed kisses all the way down his chest, putting your mouth and tongue to work through his soft skin, making him squirm a bit underneath you. 

You stopped once you got to the waistband of his pants, taking it off with Jake’s help and removing his boxers as well. You sighed, mouth salivating at the view of his veiny dick right in front of you.

However, you needed to feel him inside you, so you let your other desires for later, starting to move in a way you could sit on him.

“I wanna ride you,” you announced as if it was your only goal in life. “Like, really bad.” 

“Fuck, babe,” Jake groaned, watching you positioned yourself comfortably on top of him, quickly moving his hands to hold your hips. “Go on. Use me,” he threw his head back to just enjoy the sensation of finally feeling your walls around him, before realizing something was off. “But wait– Sugar,” he said with widened eyes, sitting up to hold you before you did anything. “You’re going in raw?” Jake questioned in disbelief. 

You blinked at him, confused. “You’re clean, right?”

“Yeah, but–”

“So am I. And on birth control, don’t worry.” 

Since you were still wet due your orgasm and because Jake’s little sounds aroused you enough, you pushed him back to bed, giving him a little peck before holding his dick and placing it on your sensitive area.

Jake knew he wasn't getting out of there alive. There was no way. How would he survive you? God, you were insane. And the way you slowly slid down on his length, using its precum to lubricate, sent him out of orbit in an instant.

He did nothing but open his mouth and moan, eyes rolling back to his head with the amazing feeling of your pussy coating him so tight and warm. He could feel you everywhere. He almost cummed just because of that alone, having to close his eyes tightly in order to concentrate enough to not let it happen.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake bit his bottom lip the moment you moved a bit, adjusting yourself. “You feel so fucking good already, fuck.”

You watched every reaction of his, enjoying it as a show. The frowned face in pure pleasure, the red wet lips, face all flustered and glowing, not to mention the dim light of your room working to make the view even more gorgeous and pleasant. 

Jake felt you staring and how you stayed still for a while, finding support on his chest with your hands. He opened his eyes to glance at you. You gave him a little smile and he reciprocated, caressing the skin of your body under his touch as he waited for you to feel comfortable enough to move by yourself. Jake watched as you started to move back and forth slowly on his cock, your eyes closing with how good he was filling you up. 

Although Jake's hands rested on your hips, he didn't force a single movement, letting you find your pace. He admired you for a moment, “you look so, so pretty right now, baby,” he praised sincerely, watching the way your expressions changed to pure pleasure as you moved faster.

You leaned forward to find his mouth with yours, kissing him, missing those pretty lips of his on yours. Your moans got lost between your mouths as you continued to move faster until you found the pace of your liking, Jake now helping you to keep it going. 

Lewd sounds of your bodies shocking against each other filled the room, mixed with whimpers as well as the wet kissing sounds.

Jake reached down with one of his hands to rub your clit, and by the way his cock twitched inside of you, you deduced that he was close to cum and didn't want to do it alone.

You drew apart from the kiss to rest your head on the curve of his neck, sucking the skin as well as whimpering against it. The position leaded Jake to have his mouth directly on your ear, and with all the stimulus happening at the same time, his dick hitting your g-spot, his finger rubbing your sensitive nerve and his voice moaning your name in your ear, you started to clench furiously on Jake’s length.

“Wait–”, you barely heard him saying, too lost in your pleasure already. “Where do I c–”

“Inside,” you answered quickly before he tried to pull off.

“Fuck.” Jake’s head was spinning, he was seeing stars. “Be my girlfriend,” he let it out in one breath.

“What?” You asked back under your breath, questioning if you were hearing things due pleasure.

“Let me be your boyfriend,” he said panting. “Officially. Be my girl, please. Be mine,” he begged with a groan, cumming inside of you. 

You openly moaned his name, rolling your eyes back as your orgasm also hit you. You thought that alone could answer his question, keeping on the movement to ride you two through your highs, his strong hands gripping you tightly and your whole body shaking.

You stood over Jake's body for a while after you stopped your movements, catching your breath and feeling his liquid leaking from inside of you. 

He helped you to lay back on the bed, both still panting, both so happy about what just happened. You forced yourself to stand up just enough to kiss him before you said, looking deep into his eyes. 

“I’m already yours, pretty boy.”

That weekend was intense. Still, you just couldn't get enough of Jake. And he wasn't too different. 

Now your routine had changed a little more. He was still the sweet and kind Jake, worrying about you, asking about your day, listening to you rambling about random things, and always bringing you food on your busiest days. But it seemed like you had awakened a monster inside him.

Of course you didn't complain, especially because the one who was getting the benefits was you, who wasn't that different either, never getting enough of him.

Whenever Jake was stressed, he would usually take you somewhere to watch the sunset or to stargazing while talking about life and theories and obviously, kissing you.

Now he started eating you out. Almost every time. And sometimes he would mix these two, taking you somewhere beautiful and eating you out inside his car.

Jake had eaten you out in every room of your apartment, saying that him eating you out got him off more anything else, and you actually witnessed him cum untouched a few times, looking so fucking hot while doing it.

Nevertheless you still couldn't had the chance to give him a proper head. Jake would be saying you didn't have to do it, like you felt obligated. Little did he know that you wanted to feel his dick filling up your mouth and his cum going directly down your throat. Oh, you wanted so badly.

At this exact moment, you were sitting on your kitchen counter with your legs spreaded being supported on Jake’s shoulders as was getting lost between them, diving in your juices, making you cum with his tongue deep inside you. You reached for his hair with your hands, grabbing to bring him up and kiss him fervorous. 

“Take me to the bedroom,” you demanded with an urge. 

And how would Jake deny such a sweet request?

The moment you got into your bedroom, you tossed him on the bed. You were hungry for him, and him only. 

You saw his already hardened cock marking his sweatpants and without giving Jake time to complain, you removed all his clothing pieces – he was already shirtless – and had him naked underneath you. 

As usual, he thought you would ride him. Out of all the positions you’ve tried so far, this was a favorite of his – to look at you while you use him for your own pleasure felt too insanely good, so he got excited in advance. But you decided to surprise him this time, contradicting his expectations as you bend over to be at the same height of his pulsing cock, head pretty close to it.

He panicked.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” He asked and tried to sit, but as soon as he did you pushed him back to the bed. 

“Imma suck you off,” you said like it was obvious. You wrapped your hand around his length and started to pump it.

“Y–you don’t have to, princess,” he stuttered, feeling hot under your soft touches. “Let me fuck you, mhm? You deserve to feel good.” He tried to sit again and you pushed him back one more time.

“Sucking you off will make me feel good too, Jakey,” you blew a bit of air on his shaft, he shivered. “Don’t you get that?” Your hands worked slowly on his dick, moving up and down, smearing the precum out of his slit with your thumb. He bit his lip to hold back a whimper. “Or do you think you're the only one who gets horny by giving pleasure to others?”

You ran your tongue all over his shaft, closing your eyes as you felt the salty precum taste spreading through your mouth, playing a bit with his tip.

Jake kept hiding his sounds from you.

His hands were squeezing the duvet under his body to the point his knuckles started to get white when you gave a little more attention to his head, realizing that this was his sensitive area. You took advantage of that.

Without a warning, you put his whole cock in your mouth in one go, feeling it hitting on your throat.

“Mhm,” he tried to contain his grunt, hips thrusting forward slightly and his left hand smacking the bed one time before grabbing the sheets again.

You held your position for a few seconds, making sure to breathe through your nose, before moving back and forth twice. Jake squirmed under you, still quiet.

“Why are you hiding from me, pretty boy?” You asked with a low voice when you backed off to breathe, hands replacing your mouth as you did so. Jake finally let it out a little whimper and you smiled. “I wanna hear you, baby.”

“I’m sorry,” he said apologetically, once more biting his lip in order to contain himself. 

The reason behind his choice of behavior under your touches was literally due his fear of scaring you off. He would be a total mess if he let it all go as he really felt. Your hot mouth around his dick sent him to hell and heaven all at once, you didn’t had to do much for him to start seeing foggy and being a whimper mess.

Jake felt your lips coating him again and groaned, back slightly arching.

“So gorgeous, Jakey,” you backed off only to encourage with a smile, jerking him off before going back to suck him. He couldn’t hold back his loud moan, eyes rolling when you sucked his sensitive tip. You quivered. You wanted more of him. “Keep on making these pretty noises for me, yeah?”

Although he was afraid of scaring you off, one thing he loved to do was to obey you, to fulfill all of your requests. Whatever you told him to do, he would do it. So when you told him to be vocal, he started to be vocal. 

Your mouth swallowed all his throbbing cock, his tip going deep in your throat, precum going down on it. Jake threw his head back, open mouthed, spilling all the little noises you loved. “Fuck, mhm, that’s it, babe,” he breathed out between groans and put one of his hands on your head without forcing you down or anything, just resting there.

The way your throat was pressing his sensitive tip as you swallowed around it, God, he was getting stupidly close. Jake dared to look down at you, meeting your strong gaze as you devoured him like a last piece of meal. “Fuck, you’re doing so good,” he gasped, rolling his eyes. Jake felt a familiar burning wave all the way through his body. “Fuck, I’mgonnacum”. 

You kept your movements steady, lightly scratching his thighs before you felt Jake’s body start to shake, his moans intensify and his cum hitting down your throat. You swallowed every drop of it before letting his dick with a pop and using your thumb to clean up the corners of your lips as you crawled back to kiss him passionately. 

At this point you were already horny again, so as you kissed him, feeling his shaky hands all over your body, you pressed your bare cunt on his softened shaft and moved a bit. He parted the kiss, trying to push you away.

“I– I don’t think–”, he tried saying. “I’m sensitive, baby– Ahh...”

“Yeah?” You rubbed your bare cunt on his dick with a sly smile. “So you don’t want me to ride you, Jakey?” You kept waving your body on him, forcing a disappointed face with a fake pout.

Jake trembled, feeling his eyes water in a painful pleasure. “Of c–course I– I do, fuck.”, his voice cracked, eyelids closing. He was fully unable to stop you at this point, and he didn’t wanted to anyway, so he just started to sob as you kept sliding on him, back and forth, slowly, painfully slowly.

You were sending him into overstimulation, loving his reactions, loving how desperate he looked. Legs squirming beneath you, eyes tearing up, hands messily trying to figure out what to do, facial expression switching in a mix of pain and delight.

“Please…” He begged. He didn’t even knew for what. Neither did you, so you asked. “Please what, Jakey?” You stopped moving. “You want me to stop?” 

He hurried to answer “No! Please, don’t– Don’t stop.” Definitely his begging wasn't about stopping. His breath was short as you started to move again, still slow. Too slow.  “Go faster, please darling.”

And how could you deny such a sweet request?

The wet sound of your pussy rubbing against his cock was too lewd. You leaned to kiss Jake, who wasn’t able to kiss you back properly due his undergoing situation. His was dick hardening again against your folds and that was your last straw.

Yeah, he was desperate because of overstimulation, but you were desperate to feel him inside you. So you repositioned yourself to slide him deep on you in one go, making both of you scream.

You threw your head back and instantly started to grind on him, making circle movements, sending both of you to cloud nine. 

“Babe I– I’ll not last long– damn.” Jake said breathlessly, hands helping your hips to move.

“Make me cum with you, please,” you begged and of course he would never leave you hanging, so he did his work, rubbing your clit at the same pace as you bounced on him.

You felt your climax building up rapidly, breath getting heavier and heavier, body shaking as you heard Jake saying under breath "I'm cumming", while throwing his head back and filling you up with his warm liquid. You shivered, moaning louder and achieving your peak right after.

Your body fell over Jake’s, who immediately hugged you, panting, all sweaty. “This was…” He started to say after a while, still inside you. 

“Good?” He analyzed your expectant eyes when you got up to look at him and chuckled at the difference of the demon eyes you were giving him earlier.  “Incredible,” he kissed your forehead. “You are always incredible, my love.”

It was a weirdly sunny day when Jake seated you on his car hood, fitting himself between your legs while his hands rested on your hips, drawing little circles there. 

You both decided to go out that day to celebrate your new job. But instead of going for a fancy dinner or anything similar, you decided to follow the roots of your relationship and asked Jake to take you to see the sunset. 

And he would never deny anything to you. So here you were, looking at the pretty sky behind Jake’s back when he himself was sunk on your neck. 

"Why does the sky turn orange during sunsets?" You asked nonchalantly, feeling Jake's kisses on your skin. He was inebriated by your scent and acting as if he was getting drunk on you. 

He loved that. 

He loved you.

"It has something to do with the light traveling through the atmosphere. Don't make me do my homework right now, baby," he said muffled, unable to leave your warm embrace. You chuckled.

You loved that. 

You loved him.

"Sorry," your fingers slid through his hair, scratching slightly. He hummed in response. 

It’s been two weeks since you started to call him your boyfriend and he started to call you girlfriend, the honeyed voice always making you melt. 

Nevertheless none of you said I love you yet. Not that you two needed to. You felt Jake’s love on every action of his. The way he would look at you so dreamily at any point of the day, how he would embrace you so tightly at the end of a stressful one. Or how he would always clean you up after the sex, even when he was tired as hell. He treated you like a goddess. You felt it. 

It was as clear as crystal water that you loved him too, at least you thought. 

You would purposely ask questions about astronomy just to have him speaking animatedly in technical terms that you often didn't understand very well, but loved to see him sparkle in joy. Or when you cooked his favorite meal just to see his puppy eyes widening in surprise and thank you with a sweet kiss. Or even when you watched him play video games for hours without complaining, actually enjoying and hyping him up, sometimes playing together when he asked you to. 

Jake, actually, noticed every bit of it. 

He himself making sure to love you every moment of his day, making sure you were safe, fed, warm, and most important: happy.

Jake loved your smile. He loved to see you ramble about your favorite songs and flowers and chocolates and movies and everything. 

He loved everything about you.

You exhaled. The feeling was consuming you, you had to let it out. The ache of holding it to only your actions wasn't enough. You needed to say it.

And you did. In one go.

“I love you.”

Jake lifted his face off your neck to look you in the eyes, kind of shocked by your sudden statement. “I don’t care if you don’t love me back, but I love you. More than stargazing, more than feeling a cold breeze under the moonlight, more than listening to my favorite artist. None of those feelings overcomes the feeling of having you around,” you caressed his cheek. Jake listened to you with attention. 

“You color my world by just being around. Every part I go I look out for you,” you could see Jake’s eyes watering. “And I do find you in everything, because, Jake, you became my everything. It’s scary how much I need you. It's scary how much I can love you,” you rested your forehead on his, closing your eyes. “So yeah, I love you,” you whispered at the end.

Jake's breath got heavy as he assimilated all your words.

God, he loved you as much as you did. Lately he had to deal with the urge of telling you the three words, afraid of scaring you off as always. But now he knows you are as much in love with him as he is with you, and he felt so damn lucky.

"You wanna know something that has nothing to do with physics?" Jake spoke softly after a while in silence trying to find the right words. You weren't expecting that question after your confession. "What?" you asked in a whisper.

He looked so gorgeous under the golden light. 

"I can watch a hundred sunsets with you," he said softly, loving eyes at you. He gently put a strand of hair behind your ear, as usual, and continued, "And you’d still be the prettiest view."

Jake didn’t had to verbalize “I love you” after that, but he did. 

He did it continuously. He did it before you went to sleep and when you woke up. He did it before leaving you at your classes and as soon as he picked you up. He did it out of the blue, while you were vacuuming your apartment and he was dusting the furniture. Because no matter how much he said, it didn't seem enough.

It was love at first sight, blessed by the moonlight keeping their love secrets and under the sunset light, keeping their sweet passion burning.

[dindjarindiaries]

Right Where You Left Me

summary: Din reunites with you many years after your whirlwind romance for a mission you begrudgingly accept to help him with.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x reader

tags: angst, injuries & blood, hurt/comfort

rating: T

word count: 15.387k

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

As soon as you saw the flash of silver at the open doorway, you froze. Your grip on the rag pulsated, your stare assessing the silhouette that was too achingly familiar.

And immediately, you wanted it gone. Him gone.

“Get the hell out of my bar, Mando!” Your voice was a bark, as piercing as your threatening gaze. You tossed the rag over your shoulder and crossed your arms, defiant. Though you knew his real name, had even exclaimed it in private before, you still refused to out him by using it now in front of others—despite the hurt he had caused you.

Din’s amused huff wasn’t lost on you as he ignored your directive and strided into your establishment. “Nice to see you, too.”

It was only inevitable that he would show up one day, but to do so like this was simply insulting. The Din you knew was far from an asshole, but this version of him was already threatening to challenge that notion. 

“Is that beskar on your head keeping you from hearing me?” You took up the rag again and snapped it towards the doorway. Din froze and raised his gloved hands in surrender. “Get. Out.”

“I won’t stay long.” Din nodded his helmet. “Promise.” You rolled your eyes and didn’t bother hiding it from him. This was the honorable Din Djarin that you had known, and while it used to be endearing to you, it was nothing but annoying now.

“You won’t stay at all.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I mean it.”

Din shifted his weight between his feet. You hated how it made your chest ache for him. The years hadn’t erased that tell of his. “I only need a few minutes.” His modulated voice was getting desperate. “Please.”

Of course it was working on you, but you couldn’t let it. You had spent all this time building your resolve to prepare yourself for this day, so that you could confidently turn your back on him without remorse—just like he had done to you. “You should’ve thought of that before you left.” You threw the rag at him, and he caught it without so much as flinching. “Mind wiping those tables on your way out?”

Then you did it. You turned your back on him, intent on hiding in the back room for the next standard hour or so with a glass of the galaxy’s strongest whiskey.

But the strong grasp on your wrist kept you from getting anywhere.

You spun around, your gaze a raging fire as it met Din’s cold visor. He still had the rag clutched in his free hand, and you watched his hold on it tighten in your periphery. As much as you didn’t want to admit it to yourself, the feeling of his touch still sent as many shockwaves through you now as it did years ago.

Din’s low, modulated voice broke the tense silence between you. “Please.”

Your jaw ticked as you gave him a thoughtful once-over. It was only just now that you were realizing he had an entirely new suit of armor, having exchanged the ragtag tan flight suit and mismatched red armor for brown and pure silver. Something had changed, and it was no doubt that something that had his voice so strained and desperate.

Still, you tugged your arm out of his grasp and scowled. “I never took you for the type to put your hands on someone like me without permission.”

Din’s armored shoulders deflated. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

You waited for his excuse, but he didn’t give one. You raised your brow. “But?”

Din lifted the rag without looking away from you, his helmet tilting as he fumbled with the cloth between both his hands. “But what?”

You scoffed and shook your head, your gaze falling to the small amount of distance that was still between the two of you. “Fine. I’ll ask.”

Whether he was playing your own curiosity against you intentionally or not, it was a genius strategy. You couldn’t help yourself. You reached out for the rag and snatched it back from him, throwing it over your shoulder again and setting your weight on one hip.

“What brought you here?”

Din let out a soft sigh. His visor gave the room a careful stare before he leaned in closer. You nearly did the same out of habit. “I need your help with something.”

You crossed your arms and gestured with your chin to the doorway. “I’m retired. Can’t you tell?” You let out a terse laugh. “But of course the only reason why you’d show up here all these years later is for help.”

Din stiffened. The amount of pity you wanted to give him was exhausting. Old habits die hard. “I… didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

You lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Well, thank you for making the decision for me.” You turned and started to walk back behind the counter. “You’ve lost my interest. Your few minutes are up.”

Din’s gloved hands all but slammed against the countertop. You jumped and looked at him with wide eyes. “Your research.” His voice was even lower, even more secretive, than before—but it had only grown even more desperate.

You blinked a few times, fighting against your shock. Your tone matched his when you finally found words to say. “What about it?”

Din relaxed once you spoke to him. “Do you still have the list?”

Your brow furrowed. “The list of what?”

“M-count targets.”

You stepped up to face him across the counter so fast that the end of it jutted into your stomach, but you didn’t care. Your face was only inches from his helmet when you spoke through gritted teeth. “You should know better than to say that out here in the open.”

Din was unfazed. “Do you still have it?”

You searched the horizontal section of his visor before letting out a heavy breath. Your gaze fell to your hands, which were splayed on the countertop right next to his. “Even if I did, I haven’t updated it in years. I have no idea if any of the targets are still active.”

Din took a steady breath, his visor looking to the side as he processed your words. Meanwhile, you were doing the same with this entire situation. His sudden interest in this was baffling, and there was only one conclusion you could think of for someone like him. It made you grimace even more harshly than you had before.

“You want exclusive access to track them down, don’t you?”

Din’s visor snapped back to your gaze. “No.” His tone got sharper, finally matching your own. “You really think so little of me?”

“Seeing as you left me for this line of work without hesitation or care, yeah, I guess I would consider it to be a pretty strong possibility.”

Din looked down at his hands. His armored body rose and fell with another deep breath before he changed the subject. “I had an M-count target.”

You scoffed. He was proving your words right, and you hated how devastating that really was for you.

“I didn’t realize it when I got assigned to the job. I was told the target was fifty years old. But…” Din paused, and when he went on, there was a new emotional strain to his words, “it was a child.”

Your brow jutted up at that. A fifty-year-old child was certainly new, but in this galaxy, it was definitely possible, especially if they were non-human.

“I saved him, took him on the run, and returned him to his own kind.” Din’s voice nearly broke on his last few words. You tried to picture it; Din Djarin, running around the galaxy in that old-ass Razor Crest, all while taking care of a child. It was a hilarious yet heartfelt image, because it was something only he would do, especially after what he went through as a child.

You hated that you knew that about him.

You pushed these thoughts aside and prioritized one of the many questions that lingered. “His own kind?”

Din’s helmet tilted at you, as if the answer should have been obvious. “The Jedi.”

You were the one to grab his wrist this time, tugging him along the edge of the countertop until he was next to you again. Then, you pushed open the swinging door to the back room, waiting until it closed to question him. “You were really running around the galaxy with a Jedi youngling?”

Din nodded. Your eyes doubled in size as you balled up your fists at your sides, now coming upon a new, frightening conclusion.

“Din, not every child with an M-count is a Jedi, especially not on that list!”

Din didn’t say anything, not for a long time. Your brow began to furrow in confusion more than anger until he gave his helmet a quick shake. “Sorry.” He shifted his weight.

You narrowed your eyes. “What was that?”

Din hesitated before he went on. “You said my name.”

You rolled your eyes and let out a curt laugh. “Get a grip.” You set your hands on your hips. “Did you even hear the rest of what I said?”

“Yes. I can multitask. You know that.” The urge to roll your eyes at him again was too strong, especially once your ears started to burn. “Don’t worry. I spoke directly with another Jedi, and she said that he was raised at ‘the Temple.’” He shrugged. “Whatever that means.”

You ran your hand over your face in disbelief. “You just casually ran into a Jedi? In this day and age, when the Jedi Order is all but nonexistent?”

“Actually, I’ve met two.”

You scoffed and closed your eyes, exhaling an annoyed breath before smiling sweetly at him. “Congratulations.” You grew more serious as you hardened your expression. “But my point still stands. If your plan is to get this list and try to return all these kids to their ‘own kind,’ then it won’t work. Most of these children were never Jedi.”

Din held his hands on his hips, just above his belt. “That’s not my plan.” Worry strained his voice as he went on. “I just want to make sure they’re all safe.”

You blinked at him. “That’s it?” Din nodded. “What about hunting? Don’t you need to work?”

Din tapped a pouch on his belt. “I’ve got enough credits to last me a while.”

You gave him a cautious once-over. “How?”

Din huffed. “That’s a long story, and I promised I wouldn’t take up too much of your time.” He nodded towards your desk in the corner of the room, where your datapad was sitting. “All I need is the list.”

You bit the inside of your check as you took a deep breath. The nobility and meaning of what he was doing meant too much for you to just hand him a list that hadn’t been checked in years. It could send him chasing inactive targets, wasting precious time that could be used to save children in need.

“You need more than that.” Your tone was decisive as you spoke, leaving no room for argument—though you were sure Din would try.

And try he did. “Is that so?”

“It is.” Your gaze flickered over to your datapad. “I told you before, I haven’t updated the list in years. If you’re really gonna be tracking down these targets, then it needs to be checked.”

Din nodded. “Okay. How long will that take you?”

You shook your head. “Time isn’t a factor. Distance is.” You walked off towards your desk and explained before Din could ask. “I have to cross-check the names at an Imperial terminal.”

Din’s voice was behind you, getting closer to where you now stood with your focus on your datapad. “Do you know where to find one?”

You threw him a look over your shoulder. “How else would I have made this list in the first place?” Din tilted his helmet, and you tried hard to fight your amused smile as you turned back to the datapad. “I’ve found a few, but I usually go to Ptelan.”

Din was right behind you, now. “Where’s that?”

“The whole other side of the Outer Rim.” You held back your sigh as you turned around to face Din, pasting on that sarcastically sweet smile again. “If your old-ass ship can actually make it that far.”

Din stiffened. Your mischievous grin started to fade even before he said the words in a low voice. “I… don’t have the Crest anymore.”

You attempted to keep the mood light as you opted for the likeliest explanation. “Did she finally die on you?”

Din sighed, but it was sadder than usual. “I guess you can say that.”

Your lips tightened at the thought of whatever you weren’t being told. You spoke as you opened your datapad to make sure you still had the list. “Let me just add that story to your ever-growing list.” Din chuckled, and you fought a relieved smile at the sound of it. “So, tell me about your new ride.” 

“I don’t have one.”

You paused, your gaze slowly peeling from the datapad’s vidscreen to Din’s visor. The implications of his words hit you all at once. “You took public transport to get here?”

Din set his hands on his belt. “That’s what I’ve been doing, and it’s what I’m gonna keep doing until my contact finds me another Razor Crest.”

You blew air sharply out of your nose. His stubbornness certainly hadn’t faded over the years. “So, let me get this straight.” You lowered the datapad and took a step closer to him. “You expect to show up here, years later, unannounced, have me hand over my most precious research, and then borrow my ship?”

Din’s helmet tilted. He was amused. “I never said anything about a ship.”

You laughed. “Well, you sure as hell aren’t getting to that Imperial base on Ptelan with public transport.” You waved the datapad in your hand. “And you don’t even know how to cross-check this with the terminal, anyway. This plan of yours is starting to look real lousy.”

“To be fair, I didn’t realize I was gonna need more than the list.”

You stared at him for a few solid seconds before you closed your eyes and lowered your head in defeat. Your grip on the datapad tightened as you came to terms with what you were about to say—and, more importantly, do. This is what you got for running as far away from your research as possible: a multi-day trip with your ex. 

Cursing under your breath, you circled your jaw and lifted your head back up to look at him. “The list is the least of our problems. I need to get the ship fueled up for us to go.”

Din’s gloved hands fell back to his sides. “Us?”

“I’ve seen your piloting.” You pulled the corners of your lips up in a smirk. “I’m not letting your recklessness destroy my ship.”

Din sounded concerned as he looked over his shoulder. “What about your bar?”

You shrugged. “I have plenty of managers who can step in while I’m gone. We shouldn’t be away for more than a few days, anyway.”

Din’s visor gave you a quick once-over before he nodded. “Okay.” He straightened his shoulders and tilted his helmet towards you in a way that, aggravatingly, made your knees weak. His voice was strained with meaning when he spoke. “Thank you.”

You avoided his visor as you returned his nod. “Let’s just make it quick.” You turned to your desk and picked up a datarod. “Take this and head to the hangar. My ship’s in bay three.”

You extended the datarod to him, and Din was gentle in reaching for it. His gloved fingers brushed yours as you made the exchange. You silently cursed yourself when the sensation sent a pleasant chill down your spine. Remember what he did to you, and don’t forget it.

You spun away from him again. “Get the ship fueled up while I pack my things. I won’t be far behind you.”

Din nodded, dutiful as ever. He set the datarod on his belt before he turned and strided out of the back room. As soon as the door swung closed, you braced your hands on your desk and closed your eyes to focus on your breathing.

All these years, you had planned on turning your back on him the moment you saw him. Now, you had just signed up for a multi-day mission with him. That meant seeing him constantly. Sharing an enclosed space with him. Reminding yourself of what you once had, both the good and the bad.

But what he wanted was too noble for you to ignore. You were willing to sacrifice your own heart for the safety of these children.

You pulled yourself together and packed your necessities. You triple-checked that you had the datapad in your satchel before you pushed your way out of the back room and tracked down today’s manager. The Twi’lek woman gave you a concerned look as you approached her.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Her green eyes gestured to the cantina’s entryway. “What was up with that Mandalorian?”

You sighed and wished that you knew as little about Din as she did. “Everything’s fine. Listen, I’m going on a quick trip. I’ll be back in a few days.” You nodded at her. “I need you and the others to keep this place running until then.” You tapped the comm on your belt. “You know how to reach me if you need me.”

The Twi’lek nodded, but her brow was still furrowed. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

You pasted on a reassuring smile and set your hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure.” You squeezed and lowered your hand back to your satchel. “I’ll see you all in a few days.”

You didn’t give yourself time to dwell on her worried expression. If you did, there was a good chance you would come to your senses and realize how bad of an idea this all was. Instead, you strided over to the entryway and walked through the door that had slid open for you.

The hangar was only a block away, and bay three was one of the first in the hangar’s circular structure. You walked in to see your faithful vessel sitting there, with Din easily maneuvering the fueling source away from the hull. Your mind was suddenly flooded with the many memories of this very same sight, but with him fueling up the Crest after yet another risky mission.

No. You didn’t want the warm, familiar fondness that was flooding through your chest. You swallowed hard and pushed it away, continuing your stride as you spoke to Din without looking at him. “Ready to go?”

Din huffed in amusement. “That was fast.” When you didn’t respond, he grew more serious. “Yeah, it’s all ready.”

“Good.” Your lips pulled tight as you dropped your satchel off in the hold. Your ship was only half the size of the Crest, considering the fact it was a singular deck as compared to two, but you still had plenty of room to work with. There was a closed refresher and more than one bunk, thank the stars, as well as a booth and a small table. This was all connected to the cockpit, which was conveniently fitted with two chairs.

As if he was always meant to be here.

You scoffed and all but threw yourself into your chair. It groaned with both familiarity and age when you turned and toggled around the controls, preparing for takeoff. Din’s bootsteps soon made their way onto the ship, and the sound was just as familiar as your chair had been. Like no time had passed at all.

Stop. You gave your head a small shake to snap yourself out of it. It’s been years, and he left you. Don’t get used to this again.

You tightened your hands around the joysticks and jerked the ship up. It was hard to fight the cruel yet amused smile tugging at your lips when you heard Din stumble somewhere behind you. He cursed before speaking up over the ship’s rumbling engines. “And you said I was a reckless pilot.”

You couldn’t hold back your curt chuckle, though you wanted to. Din took his place in the chair beside yours, but you kept your focus on the clouds you were currently soaring through. You still remembered the coordinates to Ptelan as you punched them in, even if it had been years since you last traveled there. It wasn’t long before the blue light of hyperspace was swirling all around you. It would continue to do so for nearly an entire day.

Suddenly, this ship was beginning to feel a lot smaller.

With the ship in autopilot, you rose from your chair and headed to your belongings in the hold. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted two sparkling items leaning against the wall of the interior hull, a jetpack and a long, pointed spear. The former was something Din had been wanting for a long time.

So many stories left to tell, so much time spent apart, and yet so much distance now between you. It was hard to come to terms with that after you had once known him so well, and had him so close.

“I’m gonna freshen up,” you announced, rustling through your bag and the other compartments on the ship for your necessities. “We’ve got a while to go until we get there, so I recommend resting. I’ll make something to eat when I’m done.”

You turned to head to the refresher, but Din unknowingly stood in your way. His visor was trained on your gaze as he nodded. “Can I help with anything?”

You swallowed hard and shook your head. “No.” You brushed past him, your shoulder knocking against his arm as you did so. “I’ll take care of it when I’m done.”

You’ve done enough is what you wanted to say, but that wasn’t a conversation you really wanted to have in such an enclosed space—especially with such a long trip ahead of you. Instead, you focused on washing up, hoping you could wash your thoughts of him away with the water. The refresher, unfortunately, was even more enclosed than the rest of the ship, which was only making it harder to breathe with the knowledge of who was outside it.

It would all happen again. As soon as Din had what he wanted, he would leave. Only this time, you wouldn’t give yourself the chance to be attached, and you sure as hell wouldn’t let yourself miss him. Not anymore.

Not that you had ever healed from the first time.

It was only when you finished washing up and drying yourself off that you realized the grave mistake you had made. Thanks to how Din’s mere presence had flustered you, you had completely forgotten to bring your change of clothes in with you. And there was simply no way you were going out there in nothing but a towel.

You leaned close to the door of the refresher, your eyes closing as you thunked your forehead against the cool metal. The embarrassment was already warming the tips of your ears as you raised your voice enough to be heard. “Din?”

There was a pause before you heard footsteps shuffling by the door. “Yeah?”

The gentleness in his modulated voice threatened to ruin you. With a heavy sigh, you went on. “Turns out I do need your help.” Your voice was a sardonic laugh. “Can you grab the pile of clothes by my satchel?”

“Sure.” Din’s response was immediate. You could still hear his footsteps as they made their way across the hold and then back to the door. “There. I set them on the floor.” There was an awkward pause, accompanied by a shifting of weight. “I’m… not looking.”

You let out a more genuine laugh that time and spoke before you could stop yourself. “Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve seen me like this.”

Yeah, that was definitely the wrong thing to say. It stunned both of you into silence, but maybe that was a good thing. The towel was wrapped tightly around you as you opened the door and reached down to grab the clothes, shutting the door again just as quickly. For a moment, you leaned your back against the cool metal and let the material raise the hair on your skin. It was the cold reality you needed to ground yourself again.

You made quick work of dressing to save yourself from at least part of the embarrassment. Once you were decent, you stepped out into the hold, where you saw Din swinging his spear around. He turned to face you right away, setting the blunt end of the spear against the ground. It made a faint clanging sound, reminiscent of Din’s armor.

“That’s quite a weapon you’ve got there.” You spoke to him even while you stepped forward and focused on putting your belongings away. “Did you trade that for your rifle?”

Din didn’t answer right away. You stole a look at him over your shoulder in curiosity. His gloved hand was holding the spear even tighter, and his visor had fallen to focus on his boots. “Not intentionally.”

The pain in his voice struck you hard. You were caught between wanting and not wanting to know what happened. Curiosity and genuine concern for him were fighting a courageous battle, but your resolve to keep him at an arm’s length was even stronger—at least, for now.

You found something else to say into the strained silence. “Well, at least this one fits in with your armor a lot better.”

Din chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so.”

You listened to him shuffling around behind you as you started to prepare the broth and bread. The clink of metal told you he had set the spear against the hull again, and the shifting of weight that followed said even more. With a fond smile you couldn’t shake, you spoke to him again.

“If you really want to help…” you pushed two bowls and small plates out to the side, “you can set the table by the booth.”

Din was at your side in seconds to grab them. “Thank you.”

You huffed as he walked over to the booth. “You’re thanking me for letting you help?”

“I am. It’s rare that you ever ask for help.”

You gave the broth a harsher stir than necessary. “I didn’t ask. I offered.”

Din’s amused chuckle warmed your cold heart. “Right.”

It wasn’t long before the broth was steaming at just the right temperature. You brought it over to the table, and Din made room for you to distribute the broth equally between the two bowls. After setting a small loaf of bread on each plate, you sat down, wordlessly encouraging Din to do the same.

You were prepared to watch him eat the way he always used to around you. He would lift his helmet just enough to sip the broth and tear off chunks of the bread. That was all you ever got to glimpse of his face. His untrimmed jaw, the tip of his hooked nose, his warm lips that felt like home…

Used to feel like home.

But before you could even raise the first broth-soaked chunk of bread to your lips, you saw Din lift both hands to his helmet, preparing to slide it off completely.

Out of instinct, your free hand snapped around his wrist. Din froze, his visor finding your piercing stare. “What the hell are you doing?”

Din’s tense form relaxed, a soft laugh crackling through his modulator before the hand you weren’t restricting covered yours. “Relax, sweetheart.” The familiar nickname made your heart turn over in your chest. “This isn’t the first time I’ve done this.”

His words hit you with a dizzying amount of thoughts and emotions, but the most prominent of all was hurt. He had removed his helmet for someone else, that much was clear. Had you not been worthy enough to be the first?

You didn’t say anything in response, and you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You let go of his wrist and let him follow through on the action.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, as much as you wanted to. Dark hair accompanied the dark stubble you had once felt against your own skin, falling in soft waves over his head and coating his upper law and jaw with sweet familiarity. The rest of the hook of his nose was long and gentle, leading up to a furrowed brow. You followed those lines to meet his eyes.

Time stalled, and your breath caught. His brown eyes had already met your stare, golden flecks glinting in the flashing blue light of hyperspace that illuminated the ship’s interior. Your gaze flickered between them, imagining all the different ways these same eyes might have looked upon you all those years ago.

You wondered if they had looked at you then the way they were looking at you now.

Din’s stare fell to the helmet he had set on the booth before focusing on the steaming broth and bread in front of him. You, however, continued to look at him, to study him. It was all you had ever wanted when he was yours, even if you had refused to confess that to him.

You were startled when Din’s natural voice broke the silence. “Your broth’s gonna get cold.” His amused tone was familiar, but seeing that same emotion in his eyes made your chest unravel with sweet warmth.

Then his words sank in, and you blinked a few times before looking down at your meal. Your ears burned both in embarrassment and from the tangible feeling of his eyes on you. “Sorry for staring. It’s just…” you stopped with your bowl near your lips to let out a soft chuckle, “I never really thought I’d ever get to see your face.”

Din offered the hint of a smile. “I understand.” He took a sip from his own bowl before raising his brow. “What do you think?” When you gave him a quizzical look, he clarified. “About what you’ve seen.”

You huffed and smirked at him. “Never took you for the type to fish for compliments, Djarin.”

Din’s face started to flush, though he tried to shrug it off. “It’s just unnerving to have eyes on me after so many years of not being seen. But I’m trying to get used to it.”

You finished chewing a piece of bread before freeing the simple question from your tongue. “Why?”

Din exhaled, his lips pressing into a firm line before he chuckled. “Add that to your growing list of stories that I owe you.”

You laughed and nodded. His response filled you with an odd sort of relief. He was promising an answer, and that meant it wasn’t something he wanted to keep from you.

The rest of your meal was eaten in silence, with you stealing looks at Din whenever you thought you could afford them. He was the first to finish, clearly hungrier than he would have ever let on about. You tried to suppress the natural worry that festered in your chest for him as you watched him stand from the booth.

“I’m gonna wash up, if that’s okay.” Din gestured with his head to the refresher.

You nodded. “Of course. I left my stuff in there, so feel free to use it. I’ll just be resting if you need something.”

Din bowed his head in gratitude. He took his dishes and rinsed them out first before disappearing inside the refresher. You closed your eyes and steadied yourself with a breath, but the backs of your traitorous eyelids continued to show you the image of Din’s face anyway.

If that was all you could see whenever you closed your eyes, then you didn’t have a single chance of earning rest on this trip.

You focused on your mundane tasks and lost yourself in the routine. After washing out your own dishes, you set up the bunks, hoping to at least get some sleep during the course of this lengthy journey. A few minutes spent in your bunk, however, proved that rest would be impossible right now.

You took to pacing and flipping your blade in the air, warming yourself up for any potential fight that would come should things go south on Ptelan. They hadn’t before, but there was certainly a first time for everything. There was too much on your mind that threatened to drown you, and focusing on the shifting of your blade offered an escape.

Until the refresher door opened at the same time you paced forward, and you ran straight into Din’s firm form.

Even worse, as you clutched your blade and took a step back, you realized that he was more vulnerable to you now than before. His soft waves were wet enough to leave droplets streaming onto his forehead and face, and you followed one that fell down his jaw and over his completely exposed chest. Tanned, scarred skin was shining from the refresher’s humidity, ending only where Din had the towel he was borrowing around his waist.

And you were breathless. If you couldn’t stop staring before, you sure as hell couldn’t stop now.

“I’m sorry.” Din stammered. His face was even redder than it had been before, his gaze wandering. “I was… I needed to grab my blade so I could shave, and I thought you would be asleep.”

You managed to let out a curt chuckle. “Well, I’m awake.” It was then that his words hit you. “Wait, your vibroblade? For shaving?”

Din just shrugged.

“Absolutely not.” You spun around and headed towards one of your miscellaneous cargo crates. “I think I have one somewhere around here.”

“Have what?”

You scoffed. “A blade meant for shaving.” You found what you were looking for and checked it over to make sure it was clean. Din’s brow was furrowed now as you walked over to hand it to him. “You can keep it.”

Din looked between you and the blade. “You just happened to have one of these on hand?”

You shrugged and crossed your arms. “Someone must have left it here.”

Din didn’t respond right away. You watched as his brown gaze darkened, a change barely visible in the blue light illuminating the hold. “Who?”

“Don’t know.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Why does it matter?”

Din’s stare cut away from you, and it was the tick in his jaw that made the realization fall upon you.

You let out a scornful laugh and shook your head. “No, you do not get to be jealous.” Din’s gaze snapped back to you. You pointed an accusatory finger towards him. “May I remind you that it was you who left me, not the other way around?”

Din’s jaw circled as he kept focusing on something behind you. “You don’t have to remind me about the worst mistake I ever made.” His brown eyes found you again, both his words and his stare knocking the breath from your lungs. “I already think about it all the time.”

Your lips stretched in a heartless smile. “And yet it still took all these years for you to show up, Djarin. You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

Din stiffened, an action that was even more visible with the muscles rippling under his skin. You swallowed hard and forced yourself to change the topic, your focus going back to the blade in his hand.

“Do you know how to use one of those?”

Din’s own stare lowered to the blade in his hand as he shrugged. “I’ll figure it out.”

You snickered. “Yeah. I guess if you could use a vibroblade to shave, you can use anything.” Din let out his own huff of amusement as you studied the small scars on his face. You kept your tone amused as you gestured to what you were seeing. “I’m willing to bet half of those are from shaving.”

Din actually laughed at that, a sound that ignited a pleasant shockwave along your spine. “Surprisingly, no, I’ve never managed to nick myself badly enough to leave a scar.”

You furrowed your brow. “So, these are all from what? Taking hits to your helmet?” It was hard to understand how something as impenetrable as beskar could still leave his face vulnerable to scarring.

Din nodded. “Only in serious cases.” His gaze had fallen to the blade in his grasp again, as if he was growing shy under your observant eye.

But you couldn’t keep it from wandering. Your stare found a long scar across the bridge of his nose, one you certainly hadn’t seen before in those rare times when he would accidentally slip his helmet up a little too far. “How did you get this one?” You couldn’t keep yourself from reaching out to brush your fingertips along it.

Din drew in a quiet breath, and out of your periphery, you could see his chest stall for a moment. His brown eyes found you again, the warm depths of his gaze pooling into yours as he responded in a soft voice. “I got caught up in an explosion on Nevarro.” Your eyes widened. “I almost didn’t make it out, but…” he chuckled, “ironically, it was a droid who saved me.”

Your hand was still raised, fingers trailing over the smooth skin along his cheekbone as you grimaced. The worried question fell from your lips before you could stop it. “You almost died?”

Din’s gaze softened at the breathlessness of your words. You hated it, this constant worry and concern for one another, but you couldn’t stop it. As much as you had tried to bring yourself to despise him over the years, it had never worked, and knowing he had almost died in your absence was frighteningly unnerving.

Din tried to lighten the mood with a small smile stretched across his lips. “It’s not like I haven’t almost died before.”

You gave your head a small shake and let yourself get lost in the movement of your hand, which was now settling more firmly upon his cheek. “But I wasn’t there this time.”

Din’s hand wrapped gently around your wrist. His words were firm yet so achingly soft and genuine. “That’s my fault, darling.” He began to run his hand down your arm, his rough fingertips skimming the exposed skin that led up to the short sleeve of your casual tunic. “Not yours.”

And there it was, your ultimate undoing, the thing that had always made Din so different from anyone else. He owned up to every mistake he ever made. Usually, he would do whatever it took to make it right, which is why it stung even more that he had never bothered to come back for you over the course of all these years.

But that harsh reminder wasn’t on your mind right now. All you could think about was the electricity crackling between the two of you, the touch of your hands igniting sparks that drew you closer to one another. He was becoming dangerously irresistible, especially with the weight of such sweet familiarity sitting between the two of you.

It was worse now that you could actually see him. The longing in his eyes, the way they darkened as he mused upon whatever desires he had for you and flickered between your own eyes and lips…

Just like that, you were running back to him, back to the familiar and the home you had once made in him. He did the same and met you in the middle, his parted lips meeting yours and sealing the gap between you.

Unfortunately, it was the most complete you had felt ever since he had left you.

Your hand slid from his cheek to the damp, brown waves that fell over his ear, and the other ran over his scarred chest towards the back of his neck. You wanted him impossibly close, as if having him there would erase the years you had to spend without him. Din reciprocated the feeling with his own gestures, one of his hands also wrapped around your neck as the other held the rib cage that protected your wildly racing heart.

Before you could stop yourself, you pulled him backwards, and he followed. Two long strides with Din’s arms supporting your weight was all it took to set your back against the cold, metal hull. Your toes had been dragging against the floor with the ease of his grasp, but he helped you steady yourself on your feet without once having to separate his lips from yours.

But that stability was lost just as quickly the moment his tongue pushed through your parted lips. He could still devour you like no one else, doing so with a reverence that purified you. All the consequences of these actions were forgotten as your hand in his hair pulled him even closer, and he relented, his hips marrying yours.

It was that, and the hand that was now lowering from your neck along the curve of your spine, that forced you to break away from him with a breathless gasp of your only conceivable thought. “Din…”

Din. The man who was making you feel a way you only had years ago. The same man who had left you alone in your bed the morning he left and never came back.

What the hell am I doing?

The thought was enough to break you out of your lustful haze. Your eyes doubled in size as you lowered both hands to Din’s bare chest and pushed him back. He stumbled but easily got his footing, his own eyes widened as he held his hands up in surrender. The two of you were heaving from both the heat of the moment and your sudden outburst.

You wanted to speak, but you were thrumming with so many emotions that it was hard to choose just one. Din blinked a few times, one hand running through his damp hair as he also tried to find his voice. “I’m… I’m sorry.” He exhaled a breath and closed his eyes, leaving his hand in his hair. “I don’t know what came over me.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, that was pretty fucking bold.” The ferocity of your words made Din’s eyes fly back open as his surprised stare met yours. “In fact, all of this is.” You waved a hand to the rest of the open hold. “This stunt of yours. Convincing me to come along with you somehow.”

Din shook his head. “That’s not—.”

“No.” You held up your hand to stop him. “It’s my turn to have the final word, since you so kindly didn’t give me a chance to the day you left.”

Din deflated at the truth of your words, but his sense of honor wouldn’t win you over this time.

“If you think that you can make things right by just showing up after all this time and apologizing, you’re wrong.” You hardened your expression. “If it’s my forgiveness you’re looking for, you’re never gonna find it.” You lowered your voice as it trembled in pure rage and true hurt. “Not even after slipping off that helmet for me.”

Din flinched, but there was no anger to be found in his expression. He simply nodded, bowing his head and drawing the blade you had given him from where he had slipped it between his body and the towel that still covered him. “Thank you for this.” Din gave the blade a small wave.

You gave him no response, instead crossing your arms as your gaze avoided him.

Din turned back towards the refresher, but he stopped himself before he walked through the door. “All I want is that list. As soon as you get it, I’ll leave, and I’ll make sure you won’t ever have to see me again if that’s what you want.” His voice wasn’t full of any bitterness. Instead, it was strained by his genuine desire to fulfill your wishes.

Din waited for your answer, but you didn’t have one to offer him. What you wanted was becoming more and more difficult to decipher, and this kiss had only made things even more complex. Din took your silence as your response and stepped inside the refresher, closing you off from him.

You lifted a hand to your face and closed your eyes, exhaling and wishing all your tumultuous thoughts and emotions would go with your breath. You were consumed with waves of anger and guilt for the things you had said and done. It was easy to hate Din at a distance, but having him back reminded you of exactly how much you had lost the first time he left.

Maybe it was really just the why you had been looking for all this time.

You numbly drifted back to your bunk, laying yourself upon it even though sleep was the last thing you were capable of doing. It was easier to hide from Din that way, to avoid the devastation he had hidden within the brown depths of his eyes that you had only just seen for the first time today. You had waited all these years to hurt him the same way he had hurt you, but now that you had taken the opportunity to do so, it didn’t feel nearly as fulfilling as you had hoped.

You were on your side facing the interior hull when you heard the refresher door open again. Din wandered to somewhere in the hold before he made his way to the bunk you had made up for him. It was built into the hull just beside yours, leaving one metal barrier between you. That wasn’t nearly enough to ease the tension that suffocated the air of your already modestly-sized ship.

You closed your eyes and flopped onto your back, letting out a sigh before you spoke loud enough for him to hear. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

Din’s response was immediate. “Don’t be. You were right, and I deserved that.”

You pressed your lips into a firm line and stared too closely at the top of your bunk. There were a dozen questions floating through your mind, but only one managed to free itself onto your tongue. “Can I just know why?”

You heard a shifting in Din’s bunk before he spoke. “What do you mean?”

You closed your eyes in a vain attempt to ward off your sudden embarrassment. “Why did you leave?”

Din was silent for a long moment. After a steady exhale, he finally said the words that your every breath hung from. “I shouldn’t have.”

You huffed. “That wasn’t the question.”

Din hummed, as if he was considering chuckling and thought better of it. “Right.” He took another brief pause. “I… was scared.” Your brow jutted up at that. Those were three words you had never heard your Mandalorian utter before. “I thought that pursuing the line of work I had been training all my life for would put you at risk. So, I did what I thought was best for you.”

“And left me without even trying to talk about it.” Your words weren’t as sharp this time, but they were still truthful. “You took my agency from me with that decision, Din.”

“I know.” Din’s voice was pained. “I’ve done more cruel things in my life than I’d like to admit, but… that was my cruelest.” He took another breath. “And I’ve regretted it every day since.”

You sighed, and oddly, the ever-present knot within your chest loosened. His words brought you a clarity and closure you hadn’t realized you needed. It wasn’t anything you had done that made him leave.

You blinked a few times and found your voice. “Thank you for telling me that.” You imagined Din nodding in response, whether he actually did or not. You took his silence as an invitation to change the topic. “Now, I believe you still owe me a few more stories.”

Din chuckled. The lighthearted nature of it filled you with relief. “Which one first?”

“Let’s go in order.” You thought back to the first mystery he had mentioned. “Tell me about your M-count target.”

It took a while for Din to say something. When he did, his voice was even lower than before. “Grogu.”

You furrowed your brow. “What?”

“That’s his name. Grogu.” You smiled at the sudden fondness in his voice. “He’s tiny, and green, and he’s got these petal-shaped ears. Really big eyes, too.”

“What species is he?”

“Don’t know. Pretty damn cute, though.”

You laughed at that.

“The first Jedi I talked to said that he was raised at ‘the Temple’ and somehow escaped after the Clone Wars ended. It was about a standard year ago that I found him on Arvala-7. He was being hunted by the Empire for his blood, just like you had talked about with your research.”

You began to put the pieces together. “So, that’s why you’re doing this.”

“I don’t want any more kids to go through what he went through.”

You beamed, rolling onto your side so that you were facing the hold. “You really care about him.”

You noticed Din shift his legs to kick them out over the edge of the bunk, putting just a small sliver of his profile into view as he looked down at his hands in his lap and nodded. “I do.” He lifted his hand to run the back of his thumb over his forehead. “It wasn’t easy giving him over to the Jedi. I… still miss him.”

The corners of your mouth turned up in a soft, sad smile as you sat up on your own bunk. You mirrored his position, glancing over at him and hoping he could sense your comforting stare. He did, and this time, you were more content to let yourself drown in the warmth of his brown gaze. “I’m sure he misses you, too.” You looked down at your hands in sudden shyness. “I know the feeling.”

Silence blanketed the hold as the two of you processed your heavy words. You cleared your throat when it became too much.

“Okay, now that that’s covered… what about all those pretty little credits in your pocket?”

Din laughed. “I don’t know if you’ll believe me when I tell you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that a challenge, Djarin?”

Din gave his head a fond shake. “No. It’s just…” he exhaled and nodded once down at his lap, “I turned Moff Gideon over to the New Republic.”

You racked your brain for a memory to match the name to. “Gideon? Isn’t he…” you trailed off, still searching.

“The Imperial who led the Purge on Mandalore.”

You looked over a Din with disbelieving eyes. “How the hell did you manage that?”

Din’s jaw tightened. “He was the same one who was after Grogu, and he had taken the kid from me. I found a way to his light cruiser and detained him.”

Your brow shot up. “By yourself?”

“Well, I had some help.”

You splayed your palms out on the bunk behind you and leaned your weight upon them. “Sounds like another story we have to add to the list.” You both chuckled, despite the small ache in your chest. Gideon had taken so much from Din and his people, and you suddenly began to wish you were there for Din when he had to face him. “What about the Crest?”

Din inhaled air through his teeth. “Yeah, that one connects to the pulse rifle story, actually.”

“Ooo, a crossover event.”

Din chuckled, but the sound wasn’t as amused as you had hoped it would be. “It was destroyed by the Empire.”

Your eyes widened at him as your heart plunged into your stomach. “Destroyed?” It was hard to imagine the home Din had made on the Razor Crest being gone, especially with such a violent fate. “How?”

“Gideon’s cruiser made a single shot. That was all it took, really. I lost everything except that spear.” Din pointed at the spear that still rested against the hull before he drew something from a pocket on his belt. “And this.”

You narrowed your eyes as you studied the spherical object in his fingers. “What is it?”

Din steadied himself before he squeezed the metal in his palm. “The shifter knob. The kid loved playing with this thing.”

You softened, smiling as you scooted yourself just a bit closer to his bunk. “I’m glad it survived, then.” You glanced down at your feet, watching as they kicked in the open air. “I’m sorry to hear about the Crest, though. I know how much that ship meant to you.”

Din shrugged. “At least no one was hurt.”

No one but you. It wasn’t hard to imagine how Din had reacted to what happened. On the outside, he put his head down and kept going, but on the inside… it was like losing another home all over again. Like Aq Vetina, the childhood that was torn away from him.

And you hadn’t been there for him.

But that had been his choice, and he had acknowledged that. He chose on your behalf, and he would have to live with that burden, not you. It still didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

Forcing all these complicated thoughts away, you focused on the story you desperately needed to hear, your gaze studying the sharp and gentle curves of his face as you prepared to say it out loud. “What about your helmet?” Your follow-up question came out quieter than you wanted it to. “Who was it for?”

Din’s stare caught yours, and the comfort you found there washed over you in a soothing wave of relief. “It was for Grogu.”

You exhaled a light, silent breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You may have chastised Din earlier for being jealous, but the truth was you were harboring that very same feeling at the thought of another lover seeing his face before you.

“It was the only way I could find Gideon after he took the kid.” Din’s focus fell to his hands, which were fumbling together on his lap. “I needed to get the coordinates from an Imperial terminal, probably like the one you use on Ptelan, and it required a facial scan.”

“Yeah.” Your voice was a mere breath. “That’s pretty standard protocol for those things.”

“I was hoping to get it done quickly enough to not be noticed, but… an Imperial commanding officer saw me. A drink and some blaster fire later, only one other person who had seen me kept breathing.”

You lifted an eyebrow. “One of the aforementioned allies?”

The corner of Din’s mouth raised slightly as he shrugged. “I guess you could call him that.” He grew more serious as he went on. “Then, when I was saying goodbye to the kid, he wanted to see my face.” Din nodded to himself. “So, I showed him. Grogu and the Jedi both saw my face, and a few others were in the room, too.”

You waited to see if he was done, and when he didn’t continue, you blew out a heavy breath. There was only one word you could come up with. “Wow.”

Din huffed. “Yeah, the feeling’s mutual.”

You gave him a once-over. “So, what’s up with the Creed now? Can you just start showing your face more regularly?”

Din shook his head. His brown eyes were lost, missing that golden sparkle you had already come to adore, as much as you tried not to. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to find my covert, or at least what’s left of it, but—.”

“What’s left of it?” Your eyes widened in shock.

Din looked up at you with a wrinkled brow. There was an invisible burden weighing his shoulders down even further, and a remnant of grief in his gaze that struck you like a blow to your gut.

You softened. “I’m assuming that’s another story?”

Din forced out a chuckle. “A quick one.” He closed his eyes and let his head fall again, his chin tucked towards his chest. “Most of the covert was wiped out after they revealed themselves to help me get away from Nevarro with the kid.”

Your chest caved in with the heavy weight of sorrow. The urge to reach out and touch him had never been so strong. “Din… I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “It was their choice. They knew the risk, and I hadn’t even asked them for help. But…”

You know me. Those were the unspoken words that floated in the tense air between the two of you, now composed of something more familiar and wholesome than the anger that had transpired before. And it was true, you did know him, which is how you recognized the guilt that was painted all over his expression even if you had never seen it on his face before.

Din was clearly ready to move past the topic. “Anyway, it’s…  yeah. It’s complicated. All this shit with the Creed.” He snorted. “Never thought I’d be in this position.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “It has its advantages.”

Din gave you a hopeful glance. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You leaned close enough to playfully rap your fingers against his arm. “As pissed as I still am about it, that was a hell of a kiss, Djarin.”

Din’s face began to flush even as he gave you a once-over. “I had a lot of years I was trying to make up for.”

You twisted your lips at that. Ignoring the small spark of hope that burned inside your belly, you prepared to snuff out his own hopeful flame. “Din…”

“I know.” He sighed. “I’m a few years too late. I made that choice for both of us when I closed the door on what we had.”

You studied him for a long moment, your eyes still addicted to the sight of his face. Learning the tells in his expression was both easy and enjoyable, from the small tugs he gave the corners of his mouth to the furrow in his brow that had become almost permanently etched there. It was then that you thought back to the moment when you first saw him earlier, remembering how he had responded to your initial observation of him.

“I like it, by the way.”

Din’s brow knit together. You chuckled and set aside your pride as you continued.

“What I’m seeing.” You waved a hand over your own face for reference. Din began to flush even more as he smiled shyly down at his hands in his lap. “A lot, actually.”

Din beamed. “That means a lot coming from you, sweetheart.”

You tried, and failed, to ignore the burn that crept up your neck towards your ears. Your smile was impossible to repress as his words filled you with an intoxicating feeling that made you remember why it was so damn hard to cope with him leaving all those years ago. He was the heartbreak you could never quite get over, because he made you feel like you were his whole galaxy.

But one creeping thought broke you out of this trance and stole the smile from your lips. You watched your hands run over your thighs before you got the words out. “You had to go through all of this alone.”

Din tensed, a movement you saw in your periphery that broke your heart all over again. He steadied himself with a breath before responding. “I chose to be alone.” His tone told you everything his words hadn’t: I wish I chose differently.

You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the tragedy of it all. “I would have stayed, you know. I would have been there with you through all of it if you let me.”

“I know.” The strain of Din’s voice drew your stare back over to him. The way his handsome features were pulled taut in guilt and regret shattered you. “But that’s my burden to bear, not yours.”

You frowned, your sympathy for him being washed away by a new, smaller wave of frustration and anger. “That’s not true, Din.” Your use of his name earned you his gaze again. “You’re not the only one who had to live with the consequences of your choice. What you’ve gone through is way more tragic, but I still had to live on my own, too.” You shook your head at him. “And I didn’t even get a say in it.”

Din blinked a few times at you before he clenched his jaw and looked away. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes as his shoulders shook with a trembling breath. “I know you don’t want to hear this, and you don’t have to accept it, but I’m gonna say it anyway.”

Din lowered his hands and folded them together, keeping his elbows against his knees as he spoke to the open air of the hold.

“I’m sorry.” His devastated yet sincere brown gaze looked in your direction, but it couldn’t quite meet yours. “I thought I was making a selfless choice, but it was actually a selfish choice. I gave in to my own fear instead of letting you help me through it. I made a decision that we should’ve made together, and what I chose ended up hurting you worse than the alternative would’ve.” He let out a self-deprecating chuckle and ran the back of his thumb over his forehead. “And I’m so fucking sorry for that.”

You had always imagined how good it would feel to hear him try to apologize for what he did without giving him the relief of forgiving him, but as it turned out, you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did. These words were nothing but sincere, and the true remorse within his gaze was impossible to ignore. Din had been mulling over what he did the same way you had ever since he left.

It wouldn’t solve every problem, and it certainly wouldn’t erase all the pain of the last few years, but you were willing to at least absolve some of the suffering he had been subjecting himself to ever since.

You maneuvered yourself close enough to him and his bunk to set a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Din’s brown eyes finally found your gaze with a look that left you breathless for a moment. Once you had gotten your words back onto your tongue, you spoke in a soft voice. “I forgive you.”

Din’s stare flickered between your eyes, his shoulders and his brow lifting as the spark of hope returned. You pressed your lips in to a firm line to stave it off.

“I can’t do more than that, but… I hope that’s at least enough for you to start forgiving yourself, too.”

Din nodded earnestly. “It is.” He lifted a hand to cover yours on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

You returned his nod. It was hard to peel your gaze away from his, but you forced yourself to do it, just as you forced yourself to pull your hand away from him. “You should get some sleep. I can imagine you’ve been losing a lot of that lately.”

Din huffed. “Yeah, that’s an understatement.” He gave you a concerned once-over. “You’ll sleep, too. Right?”

This was another promise you weren’t going to make him, but he didn’t have to know that. He didn’t have to know how hard it was to sleep alone after getting to sleep right by his side for so long. “Right.”

Din nodded once more, clearly satisfied enough with your answer to push himself back into his bunk. The movement concealed him from your view once again. You did the same, letting out a soft breath as you laid your head against the pillow and stared at the shining metal above you again. Each revelation Din had shared swirled around in your mind like a frightful, galactic storm.

There was so much you had missed, so many new wounds and scars across Din’s skin and soul that you hadn’t been there to heal. It made you frustrated, but it also made you ache. Above all, it made you want to be there with him the next time something like that happened to him, to shield him from the galaxy itself.

You just weren’t sure if your heart could take it.

You closed your eyes and willed sleep to come. With the knowledge that Din was so close by, it did, and—of course—it was the best sleep you had gotten in a long time.

You woke to the sound of light clanging in the hold. Sitting up fast enough to nearly whack your head against the top of the bunk, you spotted Din with some of your cooking supplies and relaxed. He glanced at you with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Sorry.” Din chuckled as he lifted what he was holding to show you. “I was hoping you would wake up to the smell of breakfast, not the sound of it.”

You let out a curt laugh and gave your head a fond shake. “It’s okay.” You rubbed your eyes and stepped out of the bunk. “I’m gonna freshen up and see how much time we have left.”

Din nodded as you stepped away to the refresher. It didn’t take long to reset yourself, and you were surprised to see that you only had another hour left of the trip. Thankfully, there wouldn’t be much to brief when it came to the actual mission. You would go in while Din guarded the ship, and after a few minutes, you would come back. Simple as that.

Stars willing.

You went back to the hold, where Din was just finishing with whatever he had fixed up for breakfast. “Thanks so much for doing this, Din.”

Din spared you a smile as he finished plating the meal. “It’s the least I could do to repay you for this.” When he spotted your furrowed brow, he waved a hand to the rest of the ship. “Coming all the way out here with me to get this list.”

You chuckled as you nodded to yourself. “Right.” You kept your tone playful as you accepted the dish he passed you. “It was for the kids, Djarin, not you.”

But Din just kept smiling, his admiration of you so obvious that it made your ears burn. “I know.”

You looked down, bashful, and started to eat your meal. Din did the same, and the two of you ate in peaceful, comfortable silence. It was so nice to have the tension between the two of you resolved, as if the weight of your past had finally been lifted and set you both free. You weren’t sure yet what the future would look like, especially with this mission on the forefront of your mind, but that didn’t matter. Sharing the same space with him was enough for now.

Once you had both finished, you got down to business. “We’re just under an hour away, now.”

Din’s brow shot up. “Wow.” He gestured towards the cockpit. “She’s a hell of a lot faster than the Crest ever was.”

You laughed. “Well, that’s because she’s not an ancient gunship that has to tow massive amounts of cargo and weaponry around.”

Din chuckled and raised his hand. “You got me there.”

You smiled and shook your head, forcing yourself to focus again. “It should be a quick and easy retrieval. You’ll stay on the ship and I’ll head inside to the terminal. I’ll only need a few minutes to cross-check the list.”

Din’s brow wrinkled in concern. “Are you sure you want to go alone?”

“I have to. It’s what I used to do before.” You shrugged. “Haven’t run into any problems doing this yet.”

Din released a steady breath, leaning closer to you without invading your space. “That wasn’t the question.”

You blinked at him, musing upon the same words you had thrown at him last night. You had been avoiding the truth without even realizing it. It had been years since you retired from missions like these, and that made the likelihood of something going wrong much greater. The quiet, creeping chill of fear and dread began to snake up your spine.

Din read your hesitance just as well as he read the rest of you. His hand found your shoulder just as yours had found his last night. “I’ve gone in disguise as an Imperial before, remember? When I first took off my helmet.” He nodded at you. “I’ll do it again if you want me too.”

You wanted to melt at his selflessness and the comfort his gaze was offering you, but instead, you held onto your resolve and shook your head. “I only have one Imperial uniform.” You set a hand over his. “I’ll be fine. I’m just second guessing myself.”

Din held your gaze so intensely that you couldn’t look anywhere but at him. “If anyone can pick up exactly where they left off like this, it’s you.” He offered another reassuring nod. “And I’ll be right here, ready to provide backup if I have to.”

You smiled, gently easing his hand off of you as his words sank in. “Thank you, Din.” You let out a sigh and willed your complicated emotions to go with it. “Let’s look at the schematics.”

Din accepted your topic change with grace, and he followed you up and over to the cockpit. You were able to pull up the schematics of Ptelan’s tiny, Imperial base in blue holographic light, both the hangar and the terminal marked by red dots. You talked him through the entire process, from your disembarkation to the data retrieval and exit. So long as nothing had changed too drastically over the years, it would only take a few minutes.

“I’m gonna get changed.” You gestured with your head to the refresher.

Din nodded. “I’ll clean up and help get things ready.” His gaze cut towards the dishes that still sat out in the hold.

You offered him a smile of gratitude before standing and digging through the cargo crate that contained the dusty Imperial uniform. Brushing it off and double-checking that you had all the pieces, you stepped into the refresher and exchanged your clothes for the stiff uniform. You smoothed out all the wrinkles and straightened your posture, recalling all the things that used to be like second nature to you.

A new wave of dread overwhelmed you enough to force your eyes shut. You steadied yourself with a deep breath. Think of the kids. They need you.

Then it was Din’s words that ran through your mind next. I’ll be right here.

You relaxed. You weren’t alone anymore—at least, not right now. It was more comforting than you cared to admit.

You gained enough faith to finally reemerge from the refresher. Din had already cleaned everything up and was running more drills with his spear when he caught sight of you. He stopped, his stare leaving a warm trail over your body that you tried, and failed, to ignore. You wondered if he understood the power of his gaze without a helmet to hide it.

“What do you think?” The question slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You acted casual as you put your normal clothes away and slipped your weapons into their proper places.

“Honestly?” You glanced at him over your shoulder and nodded. “I think you make everything look good.” You beamed at that. “But seeing you in one of their uniforms is… unnerving.”

You huffed. “Yeah, you and I are in agreement on that.”

The last thing you checked for were your code cylinders, which were thankfully all aligned inside your pocket. You grabbed your datapad and headed towards the cockpit, with Din following close behind.

“We’re almost there.” You sat down and fixed your attention to the comlink on your belt, removing their earpiece and fixing it into its proper place. “Let’s get you set up on the proper comm frequency, then we’ll be ready to land.”

Din nodded, obediently following all your instructions before he slipped his helmet back on and did a test run of the comms. He kept it on as the ship dropped out of hyperspace and headed towards the rainy world of Ptelan.

You had refreshed yourself on all your codes and protocols before, but they still came easy when you were prompted by their comms tower. It was too easy getting assigned to a bay inside the hangar and landing. The hardest part was taking a deep breath and preparing to disembark.

Din stood at the same time you did, his gloved hand finding your shoulder again as he gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be ready.” He nodded to affirm his words. “But you’ll be fine.”

You nodded. There had always been something about him that made you want to embrace your vulnerability, to confess every uncertain thought you had to him and let him fix it. This, however, wasn’t the time. You were more than capable of doing this before, and you would do it again.

“I’ll let you know if I need you.” You tapped your ear as you said the words. Din nodded once more, and as you stepped away to lower the hatch and set off on your small mission, you felt the warmth of his brown gaze behind his visor following you the entire way.

You didn’t want to stop feeling, not now, not ever, and certainly not after this little trip of yours was over. But there wasn’t enough time to dwell on that right now.

Your face went stone cold as you descended the ramp. The usual small group of Imperials came to greet you, a lower-ranking officer flanked by two stormtroopers. You nodded at them and stopped when they stood in your path.

“Welcome to Ptelan,” the officer greeted you. “What’s the reason for your visit?”

“A layover.” You gestured back to your ship. “I’ve spent a fortnight dealing out undercover inspections on various worlds, and Ptelan was the closest outpost for me to rest for a time.”

The officer nodded. “Understood. I don’t envy your position.”

You huffed, the dignified version of a laugh. “Nor do I yours. This planet is quite dreary.”

The officer snickered. “That’s an understatement.”

He stepped aside, letting you through. You steadied yourself with a breath as you walked forward, charting out the path a million times inside your mind. The mess hall wasn’t too far from the hangar, and given how unpopulated this particular outpost was, it was unlikely the terminal you needed was being used. Only a few minutes stood between you and the trip back home.

The trip when you would have to come to terms with Din leaving you again. 

You gave your head a small shake and willed your thoughts to dispel from your clouded mind. It would take all your focus to cross-check this list as quickly as possible, and you weren’t intent on spending an extra second you didn’t have to inside that Imperial base.

The mess hall was quiet, aside from the sounds of the few dispersed Imperial officers and stormtroopers eating their mediocre meals. You headed straight for the terminal, never once breaking your stride as you withdrew the datarod from your pocket. Each breath you took was magnified inside your own ears, the air rushing through your lungs in thunderous waves.

The work was instinctual, mechanical. Your face was scanned, and you tapped through the information to find what you were looking for. A few sly codes later, the updated list of names was running over the vidscreen, and you synced it with your datapad to correct the information you already had.

Just like always, you were done in a few minutes. You exhaled a light sigh of relief as you withdrew your datarod and stuck it back in your pocket. It would be your backup of the data in the event something happened to your datapad, which meant that you were keeping it just as safe as the device tucked in your arm as you turned around to leave.

Before you could slip out, an officer twice your size stepped in, trailed by two stormtroopers as he smirked at you. You stopped just a few feet short of running straight into him, straightening your posture even more and forcing yourself to make direct eye contact.

“Lieutenant.” The man’s voice was arrogant and low as he gestured with his gaze to the squares on your left chest. “You look to be in a hurry.”

You bowed your head for a moment. “Just eager to get some rest, sir.”

“What brings you to Ptelan?”

You repeated what you had told the first officer before. “A layover.”

The officer tilted his head. “From where?”

You told him the first planet name that came to mind. It was near the system, but lacked a strong Imperial presence from what you knew. You held your datapad closer to keep your hands from trembling.

“Ah.” The officer took a step closer to you, and you fought the urge to take a step back. “What did you need the terminal for?”

You lifted your chin higher. “I’m afraid that’s only for my commanding officer to know, Captain.” You narrowed your eyes just enough to look arrogant rather than aggressive. “Our work is delicate.”

“Do you see my rank, Lieutenant?” The captain’s lip snarled. “I am your commanding officer.”

Your jaw tightened. “If you must know, Captain, I was merely confirming the coordinates of my next few inspections.”

The captain reached out a hand to tap your datapad. “Show me.”

You swallowed hard and assessed the room all in a quick moment. He didn’t have much backup, and the few Imperials who had been in the mess hall when you entered were gone. There were only one or two more lingering, their attention drawn to the scene the captain was creating. It would be easy to take all these men down, and as long as you could still run as fast as you used to be able to, you would get to the ship no problem.

It was a split-second decision you had to make, and you did so without hesitation.

You drew your blaster and shot at the captain’s chest, needing him to be fully out of commission due to the size advantage he had on you. The two stormtroopers lunged towards you, but you ducked and turned just in time to shoot one of them down. The other began firing shots that you had to focus on dodging before you could take cover behind a nearby bench and take him down with another shot.

Only the two others in the room were left. You drew a blade from your boot and threw it at one of them, sinking it into the center of their chest as the other received a clean blaster bolt to theirs.

You only spared enough time for a few quick breaths before rising to your feet and running towards the exit. Din had been right; you weren’t so rusty after all.

The thought of him led you to lift your hand to your ear and speak. “Din, get the ship ready for takeoff. I’m—.”

You were forced to cut yourself off and come skidding to a stop when an entire team of stormtroopers stepped out in front of you. Backtracking towards the mess hall, you barely managed to escape their rain of blasterfire, the shots echoing down the corridor. You picked up one of the fallen stormtrooper’s rifles inside the mess hall and jammed the blunt end of it into the panel, sealing the door shut for now—and trapping yourself inside.

With the imminent threat taken care of, you were able to focus on Din’s panicked voice inside your ear. “What is it? Are you okay? I’m hearing a lot of commotion.”

You sighed and closed your eyes. The longer you and Din both stayed here, the more time they would have to get backup, and the harder it would be to get out. He might have been ready to come to your rescue, but you weren’t willing to take that chance.

The children whose names were written inside your datapad and datarod had to come first.

“I’ve been compromised.” You said the words calmly as you strided back over to the terminal. “I’ve locked myself inside the mess hall.”

Din’s response was immediate. “I’m on my way.”

“No.” You practically bit the word out as you activated the terminal once again and began feverishly tapping around its controls. “I’m transmitting the list to the ship’s databank right now. Once it’s done uploading, you need to get out of here.”

Even the crackling of the comm channel failed to hide Din’s disbelieving tone. “What? Why the hell would I do that?”

“We don’t have time for this, Din. If you stay and help me fight, they’ll have enough time to get backup, and who knows if we’ll ever make it out of here after that. You have the chance to go now, and I’m giving it to you.” You huffed to yourself at the cruel irony of it all. “You need to leave me here.”

“That’s not an option.”

Your head snapped over your shoulder when you heard a slicing at the door. The Imperials were beginning to carve a way inside. You tightened your jaw and worked even faster, your desperation mounting. “Those kids need you!”

“And I need you.”

His words gave you pause, as if he had the ability to make the entire galaxy freeze. You blinked at the vidscreen, your brain mulling over his words endlessly. The rawness of them, the vulnerability, struck you all at once.

“I’m not making the same mistake twice. I’m not leaving you again.” Before you could even think of an argument, Din repeated his words from before. “I’m on my way.”

You closed your eyes in selfish relief. He was finally choosing you. Above all else, for better or for worse, he wanted you, even at the risk of his own safety.

It healed the last broken fracture of your heart.

But the pressing matter at hand was quick in disrupting your emotional moment. The Imperials were almost done slicing their way through, and you were standing completely vulnerable to their next attack. You dove towards the nearest table and kicked it over, drawing your blaster and leaning your back against it for cover. After a few breaths, you rose enough to prop your blaster on top of the table, aiming it for whatever poor soul walked in first.

As soon as you saw the first flash of white, you pulled the trigger. The stormtrooper fell, but right behind him was a second one, a trooper who had uncharacteristically decent aim.

You ducked just in time to avoid most of the blow, but part of their blaster bolt still caught your arm. You gasped and clutched the wound with your gloved hand, baring your teeth as you glanced over at it. It had been enough to tear through your uniform and singe your skin, with a small circle of it hit bad enough to bleed.

Okay, so you were still a little rusty. But now you were also pissed off.

You set both hands on your blaster and rose again, firing in precise shots to take down two more troopers. They were the only two advancing on you, with the others distracted by something else—someone else, when you remembered you weren’t here alone.

Sure enough, there were sounds of panicked shouts and gargled last breaths, all without blaster fire. You stood and rushed out with your blaster raised to get a closer look, just in time to see Din run his spear through the last stormtrooper standing there. His visor snapped up at you before the trooper’s body even hit the floor.

“Are you okay?” Din’s modulated voice was a mere breath as he hurried over to you.

You didn’t address his question. “Let’s get out of here.”

Din’s visor found the wound on your arm in record time. “You’re hurt.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at him. “Barely. Come on, Mando.” You took his gloved hand and began to lead the way back to the ship. “You might love a good fight, but I’m retired.”

Din huffed at that. “I don’t love it when you’re hurt.”

You scoffed at him. “Barely!”

You tugged him along the corner hard to keep him from arguing with you further. Another team waited for the two of you there, but between you and Din, you were able to make quick work of them. You focused on aiming your blaster as Din went back in with his spear, slicing through his share until the entire team had been taken care of. With a nod, the two of you pressed on.

It was a rhythm you had been missing for a long, long time.

You turned the last corner into the hangar bay, and as it turned out, Din had already taken care of the greeting party on his way to come and assist you. You both had boarded the ship before the next wave of stormtroopers even entered the hangar, leaving their useless shots to clip the exterior hull as you pulled up on the controls and piloted the ship far away from their attack.

Inputting the coordinates back to your current homeworld, you waited to relax until the blue lights of hyperspace were flickering around you again. It was only then that you released the heavy breath you’d been holding, the adrenaline pumping through you and elevating your heartbeat inside your eardrums.

You chuckled and looked over at Din, who had assumed the same leaned-back posture as yourself. “Turns out I underestimated our abilities.” Your tone was nothing but amused as you spoke. “We didn’t have a problem getting out of there before backup arrived.”

Din snorted at that. “It’s always hard to judge how skilled these remnants will be.” He removed his helmet and set it in his lap, allowing you to openly admire his face that glowed in the aftermath of the fight. “Thankfully, Ptelan is in the middle of nowhere, and they probably didn’t want to waste resources on it.”

You hummed at that. Your order for him to leave you was starting to feel embarrassing, but everything had been charged by the past that his mere presence had dug up. The panic of something actually going wrong when it never had before only added to that.

You were about to acknowledge all this when Din spoke up first. “I’m sorry.”

You shot him a confused look. His brow was furrowed, and his gaze was downcast at his helmet. “For what?” You racked your mind for even a mere idea of what he could possibly be apologizing for. “You saved my ass back there.”

Din’s gaze found yours, and the longing there was so strong that it knocked the breath from your lungs. “I went against your wishes by not leaving.” He held a cautious breath. “I just… I couldn’t bear doing exactly what I had done all those years ago, especially after spending so much time regretting it.”

You let out a soft sigh and studied him. Din’s expression was written in guilt and remorse, both of which were so genuine that you could feel those very same emotions yourself by just looking at him. He had just proven to you that he wasn’t the same man he was when he left you, that he had learned from his mistakes and changed.

That was all you had ever wanted, and you had certainly spent enough time dwelling on the what-ifs. You wanted to know what a life with him would be like, a life where you both had made a different choice the day he left.

You stood from your chair, earning Din’s rapt attention as you peeled the helmet from his hands. Half-setting and half-tossing it onto the empty chair behind you, you took its previous place, tearing off your gloves and holding his face to bring it to yours.

There wasn’t a single ounce of regret or uncertainty in this kiss. Instead, it was a shared feeling of relief, a gesture of understanding and desperation that only brought you closer together. Using the hand that had woven into his brown waves, you tilted his head back further, deepening the kiss to prove the sentiment behind your actions.

The way Din pulled your chest against his showed his own understanding.

Still, you spelled out the words on your tongue for him to feel rather than hear, your other hand running along his jaw and gently tightening along the back of his neck. Din hummed into your mouth, the tension having melted from him completely as he melted underneath your touch.

You only pulled away when you had lost your breath, but you stayed close enough for your forehead to lean against Din’s. You opened your eyes, letting your gaze meet his up close like this for the very first time. It sent a jolt of the sweetest electricity throughout your body, proving that you were making the right choice.

“Stay.” You lifted your hand back up to his jaw and ran your thumb over his lips. “If you’re waiting for me to make the choice this time, then that’s what it is.” Your nose brushed his. “I want you to stay.”

Din closed his eyes and exhaled a breath that helped every single feature of his face relax. The small smile that began to tug at the corners of his mouth was breathtaking. “I will.” His eyes reopened to depict his severity as he nodded, minding your head against his. “And I won’t ever leave you like I did before. I promise. I swear.”

“I know.” You ran a hand over Din’s head, brushing his hair back and smiling when his eyelids fluttered in content. “You've just proven that to me.”

Din returned your smile before he kissed you again, but he kept this one brief, his sparkling gaze finding yours again. “I meant what I said the night I left.” His voice was barely a whisper, though every word he said carried its own heavy weight. “And I still do.” Your eyes were beginning to get misty from pure relief as he cradled your face. “I never stopped loving you.”

You beamed at him and whispered your own words upon his lips, the truth of them shocking you. “Neither did I.”

Even amidst all your anger towards him over the years, that love still remained, the same love that seeped into this kiss that could finally take its time. He had carved a part of himself into your heart, and that’s what had made it so difficult to watch him leave. But you knew he wouldn’t do it again. You knew he would stay by your side at all costs this time.

But above all, you knew that he would protect you from the galaxy, and he would no longer doubt his own ability to do so—just like you would protect him, too. Whatever happened next, you were doing it together.

Thank the stars you hadn’t turned your back on that opportunity.

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

din djarin tag list: @yorksgirl @zenrobbins0021 @cyaredindjarin @cw80831 @maddiedrmr @pigeonmama @violetlilly2020

[jupiterpilgrim]

Damage Control

Hyeju x Male Reader

word count: 12.8K

It's a very important day for her, and you couldn't care less.

The gallery is a monument to pretension. Pristine white walls, the kind that seem to say: if you don’t get it, that’s on you, with polished concrete floors, where every heel echoes like a hammer of self-doubt. The lights dangle from the ceiling at precise angles, spotlighting the photos with calculated exactness, but also highlighting the insecurities of the photographers pacing back and forth, trying to look more confident than they actually feel.

Hyeju, for example, is dressed in something that is clearly not part of her natural wardrobe. Normally, she’d be seen in practical clothes, loose coats, comfortable pants—something she could lose herself in while exploring the world through her camera. But tonight, oh, tonight she’s a woman wrestling with a dress that’s undeniably expensive and likely borrowed from a friend too rich to care. The dress is black, too tight in the wrong places, and shiny enough to make her feel like a piece of art—not the interesting kind. The heels are high, torturous, and with each step, Hyeju wonders if it wouldn’t be easier to take the photos lying on the floor, where, at least, she wouldn’t have to balance like a drunken acrobat.

Her hair, normally loose and wild, has been tamed into an elegant updo, something that seems more like a modern art attempt than a style choice. She feels as if she’s disguised as someone who knows what they’re doing, an impostor among the real artists—or at least those confident enough to pretend.

And yet, as she catches her reflection in the gallery’s display cases, she tries to convince herself she’s worthy. After all, her series is hanging on the walls, among the others, and maybe, just maybe, that means she belongs here, dress or no dress.

But deep down, all Hyeju can think is: this is too much champagne and too many heels for someone who just wants to be a photographer.

—

She’s standing in the corner, beside her exhibit, her fourth glass of champagne disappearing in nervous sips. She watches the movement around her, but her mind is too occupied to register any useful details. The selection hasn’t started yet, and the photographer, the main critic of the night, is running late. Of course he is.

Important people always are.

Hyeju aspires to be among the top five winners of the contest. The prize? Well, merely having her work published in one of the world's most renowned photography magazines, plus a special tour with her essay showcased in various galleries worldwide; the doors this contest could open for her are endless. And what makes things even more thrilling is that she genuinely believes she has a chance this time. Five people out of twenty will be chosen. She'll be one of them.

But...

Before basking in the glamour, however, she must face evaluation by a judge with an unknown temperament. Still, she's confident that anyone with an ounce of sense will recognize the exceptional quality of her work, transcending subjective interpretations.

She turns to her photos on the wall. The series, the work that might define her career, is there, fixed and unchanging, awaiting the unforgiving judgment of a room full of pretentious people. The black-and-white images of dockworkers—strong arms, faces weathered by salt and years of invisible labor, staring down containers that don’t ask questions. The world’s transience captured there, with cranes bearing the weight of global needs as if countries exchanged desires with the clasp of metallic hands. Each container holds a secret, a demand from the other side of the ocean, and the workers, small figures in the photos, turn the wheels of the world unnoticed.

Hyeju tries to find flaws. Maybe the lighting in this shot is too strong, or perhaps the framing is slightly off. Or maybe...

No, maybe it’s just the champagne.

“Excuse me,” a female voice interrupts, pulling her out of her self-deprecating thoughts. It’s a young woman, likely an assistant, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, with the programmed friendliness of someone who’s delivered the same news dozens of times today: “The selection is about to begin.”

Hyeju mutters something that could be a “thank you” and tries to steady her breathing, handing her champagne glass to a passing waiter with such force she nearly topples the tray. Each contestant will get their five minutes of attention. She surveys the other exhibits—some incredibly well-composed, others almost amateurish. She might have a chance, maybe, if the stars align and the critic isn’t a complete jerk—or worse, utterly pretentious.

Time passes.

Then, suddenly, the group appears. Journalists and other professionals in similar fields, all carrying that aura of critical wisdom. The same assistant from before is in front, efficiently guiding the flock. Hyeju sees them approaching her wall, and her mouth instantly goes dry. The assistant begins explaining the series’ theme. “The port as a hand reaching across the ocean…”

Hyeju smiles at everyone, trying to appear friendly, interesting, accessible. She barely hears the words, lost in growing nerves. But then… she sees him. The last person in the group, hanging slightly behind the others. An unreadable expression, with a gaze that seems to measure the worth of everything in the room—including her.

It’s you.

She trembles slightly as she shakes your hand, and the moment your fingers touch: Hyeju knows. It’s you the critic.

Great. Of course, it’s you.

But would you… nah, impossible. Completely impossible.

It was years ago.

Hyeju wasn’t anyone in the photography world then.

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” you say, in a gentle yet distant tone, almost too professional.

“Nice to meet you too, I am Hyeju,” she replies, trying to sound steady, but her voice falters slightly at the end.

"Yeah, I know."

You’re there, standing before Hyeju’s photos, pacing like an inspector evaluating construction work—only here, what’s being judged isn’t a building but someone’s soul. Each photo on the wall seems to scream in silence, as if trying to convince you of its importance, of its worth.

But you’re in no hurry.

You never are.

The first photo shows a gigantic crane, its mechanical arm hovering over containers like a titan ready to devour the world. The overcast sky in the background gives a sense of melancholy, of an industrial late afternoon, and there’s something intriguing in the way the black-and-white contrasts highlight the weight of the scene. Not bad.

You take two more steps, looking at the next image: a worker, face covered in sweat, calloused hands gripping a rope. The detail in his face is impressive, each worry line drawn with precision. The guy looks like he’s contemplating every economic crisis of the last century all at once.

Points for drama.

And then, of course, Hyeju tries to make small talk. Like they all do. As if conversation could save a photo that can’t defend itself.

“I chose black and white because I think it brings a kind of… timelessness, you know? Something that transcends the digital era we live in. Color can sometimes distract from the real meaning. I wanted the shadows to be… the main narrative.”

“Hmm.” You don’t look up, your eyes fixed on a third photo, an aerial shot of the port. The docks, packed with stacked containers, resemble a game of Tetris gone incredibly wrong. Thousands of boxes, ready to carry the anxieties of an entire world. “Transcendence, huh?... Got it.”

She watches you, uneasy, as you use your iPad, seemingly indifferent to her tense existence. Hyeju has that glimmer in her eyes all young artists have—a mixture of desperation to be seen and the faint arrogance of someone who thinks they’ve discovered something others missed. You’ve seen it so many times you could give lectures on the subject.

She continues nervously. “I know your work, by the way. I really admire your series, especially the one you did on the desert. The way you capture emptiness…”

“Oh, really?” Another note on the iPad.

“Yes! Actually, it was one of the biggest inspirations for this project. The way you captured emptiness, solitude… it was, honestly, brilliant.”

You finally look up, but not at her. At another photo. “Interesting.”

Hyeju clings to the chance to extend the conversation, like someone fallen overboard reaching for a piece of driftwood. “I really admire how you can convey so much with so little. I mean, the desert is literally… nothing. And yet, you make emptiness feel full of meaning. I tried to do something similar with the port, you know? A place of transition, of constant flux, but full of invisible stories.”

“Hmm.” Another silence. You step back, observing the photos with a clinical eye, as if trying to determine if the thread holding the world together is hidden somewhere within them.

“That’s why I wanted to focus on the workers,” she continues, clearly desperate to keep the contact. “They’re like… the gears no one sees. Without them, nothing would work. They move the world, but they’re always in the shadows.”

“Yes, yes, shadows. Fascinating.” You type something more into the iPad, your fingers moving across the screen as if her words carried tons and you were determined to move them quickly. “It’s interesting how black and white can create this illusion of depth. Or it can simply look… dated."

She blinks. “Dated?”

“Hmm, yes. Depending on the intent, of course.” Your eyes are back on the iPad. “But many photographers turn to black and white when they want things to seem deeper than they are. You know, to give that air of seriousness. It doesn’t always work.”

Hyeju laughs nervously. “Yeah, of course. I wanted it to have that seriousness, but also… you know, without being pretentious.”

“And isn’t that everyone’s aim?”

And that’s it. A rhetorical question that falls like a stone into a quiet pond. Hyeju looks at you, hoping for a more elaborate reaction, some sign that you really grasped the depth she wanted to convey, but all you offer is silence as you study the final images of her series.

Finally, you turn to the assistant. “Shall we?” you ask with the calm of someone who’s already made up their mind long before the end of the exhibit.

She gives a brief nod, confirming. "Yes. Let's move on to the next exhibits."

You pause, and then, as if it were just a minor detail, add, "Afterward, I'll speak with you privately, Miss Hyeju."

The group begins to move, but Hyeju lingers, feeling as though she's been left hanging, your words hovering in the air without resolution. She watches you walk away, the iPad still in your hand, typing something that could very well determine the fate of her work. But what unsettles her most is the way you treated her, and something about your distant posture makes her wonder if you know anything.

—

The gallery is noisier now. Artists, finally free from the duty of guarding their works, gather in small groups, praising each other with enthusiasm that ranges from genuine to visibly forced. Glasses of champagne are raised in toasts barely disguised as self-affirmations, and the hum of voices fills the space, echoing off the high ceiling.

Hyeju, however, doesn’t join in. She remains near the wall, watching from a distance as you, surrounded by journalists, finish evaluating the last of the exhibits. Her hands are clasped tightly, nervousness etched into each small movement. Her eyes track your every motion, trying to read the verdict that awaits.

From afar, she witnesses the first decisive moment. An older photographer, whose work felt like an ode to glorified boredom, receives a hug from you, smiling with a relief that only someone who’s faced countless failures can mask. Further ahead, a young woman with an eccentric look shakes your hand, her eyes sparkling with joy.

But not everyone is so fortunate. Some walk away from you with mixed expressions, caught between polite disappointment and the certainty that their work simply wasn’t understood. The more courteous ones offer faint smiles—the kind that are more social reflex than genuine feeling. Hyeju recognizes the tension even from afar. But when you finally start walking toward her, the anticipation becomes suffocating. Each of your steps seems to echo across the gallery like a solemn march, and Hyeju feels time slowing down.

You stop in front of her, a slight, formal smile on your face. It’s a smile she’s seen so many times that night it might as well be part of your uniform.

"Hyeju." Your voice is soft, almost cordial. "I liked your theme."

The words strike like an electric shock. For a moment, her world comes into focus. She smiles, surprised and, for a second, relieved. Maybe all that anxiety was for nothing.

"Thank you," she says, her voice trembling with barely-contained emotion.

You tilt your head slightly, as if acknowledging a job well done. But then, you continue, in that calm tone that only serves to prepare the ground for the fall. "However, I have to be honest... As I said, the theme you chose is already dated."

The word dated hangs in the air for a few seconds, like a blade poised to drop. Hyeju's smile falters.

"What do you mean... dated?" she asks, hope clearly trying to cling to something.

"Well, the port, the workers, industrialization... this idea was novel and revolutionary, let’s say, in the days of... the industrial revolution." You pause, looking at the photos on the wall as if re-evaluating the work for a moment. "Today, it doesn’t impact the audience the same way. It’s almost like you’re trying to remind us of something we all already know. In other words, the obvious."

Hyeju swallows hard, her mind beginning to race faster than she can handle. "But the point was precisely to show how these things are invisible today. People ignore what goes on behind the goods they consume, as if everything just magically appears on store shelves and—"

You raise a hand, cutting her off politely. "Of course, of course. But the problem is, in trying to revive this concept, you end up reaffirming what's already established. There’s no novelty, you see? The port as a symbol of global flow… it’s been debated to exhaustion. The challenge is finding a new perspective on the obvious, and, unfortunately, your exhibit got stuck in trying to remind the audience of something they’re already tired of hearing."

Hyeju blinks, stunned. "But… the black and white, the aesthetic I used… I wanted to convey a sense of timelessness, as if these figures were almost ghosts, invisibly moving the world…”

"Yes, timelessness." You nod, and the formal smile reappears, almost paternalistic. "The problem is, timelessness can also look like unintentional nostalgia. And, in the end, the modern audience wants something that speaks to the present, something that challenges them. We can’t just revisit the past expecting the same impact."

She tries, desperately, to find a loophole. "But… and the contrast? The shadows, the workers… I wanted it to be a reflection of the gears that drive the world, even today. Isn’t that relevant?"

You sigh, a bit more impatient now. "Look, the concept is good. I’m not saying it isn’t. It’s just that your execution felt… too predictable. Of course, you have a very competent technical eye, and your photos are good, but it lacks that element of… surprise, of innovation." You look at her directly, your patience waning. "It’s the kind of work we’ve seen many times before, understand?"

"But I can improve!" Hyeju insists, her voice a little louder than she intended. She seems on the brink of collapse, trying to cling to what little hope remains. "I know I can. If you’d just give me a chance to revise—"

"Look, Hyeju," you interrupt her, this time with a slightly firmer tone, tired of the discussion. "I really appreciate your passion. That’s great. But the decision has been made. Try again next year. Maybe with a different perspective."

There’s a long pause. Hyeju looks at you as if waiting for you to reveal that this was all an elaborate joke, that she’d actually won. But you say nothing of the sort. You simply extend your hand, ending the conversation with a smile that seems to say you did your best, but it wasn’t enough.

She shakes your hand, her grip firm, masking what she feels inside. As you walk away toward the next artist, Hyeju stands there alone, trying to grasp how, even with all her effort, it all ended like this: dated, predictable, insufficient.

But soon, that feeling of disbelief gives way to a growing rage, building in her chest like a volcano ready to erupt. Heat rises up her throat, making her face flush with anger, her hands clenched so tight her nails are nearly digging into her skin. Months of her life dedicated to that project. Endless visits to the port, earning the workers' trust, listening to their real stories, their calloused hands more genuine than any pretty, empty magazine spread. And now? Thrown in the trash. All because her theme was dated?

She’s not going to accept this. She can’t.

You’re heading toward Miyeon’s exhibit, and Hyeju, still fuming, decides to follow you. She already knows Miyeon is a fraud; the rich girl who travels the world and thinks snapping photos with her luxury camera is some kind of artistic statement. Pathetic. Hyeju’s sure you’ll see through it too. So, she waits, hides behind a column, and listens, her body still trembling with anger but with a hint of expectation. You’re going to tear her down too; it can’t be any other way.

"Miyeon, I really liked your theme."

Hyeju barely holds back a bitter laugh. Of course, liked the theme. You say that to everyone; it’s the prelude before you destroy them. She crosses her arms, waiting for the blow.

You continue, your voice sounding... more animated? Lighter?

"The flowers in the urban landscape, this attempt to create small pockets of nature in a space dominated by concrete, by modern life… it’s a powerful metaphor."

Hyeju raises an eyebrow. Powerful metaphor? Flowers?

Miyeon, always with that doll-like expression, smiles as if she’s about to receive a cherished jewel. "Oh, thank you! I wanted to show how, even in places where everything seems artificial, nature still finds a way to exist, to bloom."

"Yes, yes!" you respond, your voice clearly animated. "The idea that these flowers represent a little hope, a breath of life amidst the chaos of cities… it’s really touching. The audience is going to connect deeply with this vision; you managed to bring a softness that contrasts with the brutality of the environment."

Hyeju feels her stomach twist. She can’t believe what she’s hearing.

You go on, pointing to one of Miyeon’s photos: a lone flower growing from a crack in the pavement in Paris. "Look, here. This flower shouldn’t even exist, and yet, there it is, asserting its presence against all odds. It’s an image of resilience."

Miyeon sighs, almost enchanted by her own work. "Yeah, exactly! I wanted each photo to feel like... renewal, you know? That nature, no matter how small, always finds a way."

Hyeju, squirming behind the column, almost laughs. "Renewal?" Miyeon must have just passed by and thought, "Oh, this flower is cute, I’ll take a picture," without understanding anything about what it means to fight for something

But what disgusts her most is your next comment. “You did a wonderful job, Miyeon. Your photos truly captured that sensitivity. It’s one of the most unique approaches I’ve seen in this contest.”

Miyeon lights up like a Christmas tree. “Wow, I don’t even know what to say!”

And then, the bombshell.

“Well, I’m telling you—you’re one of the winners.”

Hyeju nearly chokes on air.

She… won? Idiotic flowers won?

Miyeon, of course, explodes with joy, throwing her arms around you like you just handed her the universe’s biggest gift. “Oh my God! Really? That’s incredible! Thank you so much!”

“You deserve it, Miyeon. I was really moved by how you found beauty in those small moments. And, you know,” you lower your voice, almost… casually, “I’d like to learn more about your creative process. What do you say to dinner tomorrow to celebrate your victory?”

Miyeon blinks, clearly charmed. “Oh, I’d love to! Wow, that would be amazing. You know, I’ve always wanted to learn more about what inspires you. Your work is so… deep.”

You smile, looking perfectly at ease. “Well, I try. And I must say, you look fantastic today. That outfit… elegant, yet simple. Really suits your style.”

Miyeon blushes slightly but takes the compliment easily. “Thank you! And, ah… you’re even more charming in person.”

Behind the pillar, Hyeju feels her pulse pounding. Each word feels like a slow, cruel stab. She was sure her defeat was already a massive injustice, but this… this is outrageous.

You keep chatting with Miyeon, now totally at ease, a brutal contrast to the coldness you offered Hyeju. She realizes, in that moment, what really happened here. He's a perverted son of a bitch. And Miyeon, with all her art girl pretense, is just another pretty fish he wants to hook and take to bed.

She can barely breathe, her anger suffocating.

Miyeon leaves, already brimming with plans for the dinner, and you follow, smiling just as brightly. Hyeju, however, takes a deep breath, trying to rein in the overwhelming fury overtaking her.

—

Hyeju looks at herself in the mirror, her reflection blurred by tears dragging away any dignity her makeup still held. The flawless eyeliner she spent so long perfecting now looks like a bad abstract painting. She dabs a tissue over her face, trying to erase the tear stains, but only makes it worse, smudging everything. Frustrated, she mutters to herself, too lost in her own ruin to notice the bathroom door opening.

She freezes, turning her back, trying to gather what little composure she has left.

“Oh, Hyeju! Hey, isn’t today amazing?”

Miyeon, of course.

Her sweet voice floats through the restroom like a sickeningly sweet perfume. Hyeju mumbles something unintelligible, anything to mask the sensation of being shattered.

Miyeon, radiant as always, places her bag and phone on the counter before going into one of the stalls. The metallic sound of the lock echoes louder than it should, which could mean something symbolic if this were a movie. Hyeju takes a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down, and walks over to the trash to throw away the stained tissue.

And then, she sees it.

Miyeon’s phone screen is unlocked, and Hyeju, despite herself, feels her gaze drawn to it like a magnet. Curiosity is a treacherous thing. She takes a step, then another. Just a little peek. She’s not really invading privacy, just… checking something that was already open.

And there you are. Your name at the top of her Instagram chat, with a thread of messages that makes Hyeju want to vomit in pure disgust. A time, an expensive restaurant, the promise of a dinner to celebrate Miyeon’s “big win.”

The stall flushes like an alarm. Hyeju jumps back, quickly distancing herself from the phone. She pulls herself together, struggling to control the torrent of emotions as Miyeon emerges.

The human doll opens the door with a casual smile, washing her hands while tossing compliments into the air. “Your photos, Hyeju, were so beautiful. Really, you captured the essence of the port workers in a way that was very… how should I say… real.”

Hyeju simply nods. “By the way, congratulations on your win, Miyeon. You deserved it.”

Miyeon dries her hands and finally looks at her, noticing Hyeju’s devastated state. The swollen eyes, the makeup entirely ruined. She tilts her head slightly, in an almost childlike gesture, and asks, “What happened? Are you… okay?”

Hyeju takes a deep breath, trying not to sound like she’s on the verge of a total breakdown. “It’s… nothing. Just… frustration, I think.”

Miyeon’s expression softens, as if dealing with a wounded child. “Oh, you’re sad you didn’t win, huh? I get it, it’s hard. But don’t be like that. There are so many opportunities left to show your talent.”

Hyeju wants to roll her eyes but holds back. Opportunities? This coming from Miyeon sounds like a bad joke. But before she can respond, Miyeon, ever helpful, opens her purse and pulls out a makeup kit. “Here, let me fix that for you.”

Before Hyeju can protest, Miyeon is already holding a brush, touching up the mascara smudges with efficiency that only irritates her more. “You’re so talented, you know? Your work has a depth that few have. Just need a little more luck, maybe? It’ll work out, you’ll see.”

Miyeon’s sweet, condescending tone feels like a silent scream to Hyeju. She can hear the fake sympathy behind the words, the barely hidden superiority of someone who’s never had to struggle for anything. Every brushstroke is a painful reminder of how absurdly far she is from Miyeon’s privileged world.

“All done,” Miyeon says, stepping back to admire her work. Hyeju looks at herself in the mirror. There she is, a sad, generic version of Miyeon. Even with the makeup fixed, she’s still just a shadow. “Looks better, right?”

Hyeju mumbles a “thank you,” but something in Miyeon’s sweet tone makes her want to scream.

Miyeon smiles, satisfied, and puts the kit back in her bag. “Well, see you around, okay? Don’t get discouraged, all right? You’ll get there.”

With a wave goodbye, Miyeon floats out of the restroom like she’s on a cloud.

Hyeju stands there, staring at the mirror. The makeup is flawless, but she doesn’t recognize herself. Only one thought passes through her mind in that moment as the heat of her rage boils beneath the surface:

This isn’t over.

—

Hyeju sits at an outdoor table, the evening breeze ruffling the menu in her hands. The restaurant, one of those gourmet traps with plates priced higher than any decent meal should be, offers a spectacular view of the city, the urban lights twinkling below like stars trapped in concrete. Exactly the type of place you’d choose to impress a girl like Miyeon. She’s not there to eat, of course, but she orders a glass of wine, something to keep up appearances.

Time passes slowly, and Hyeju watches as Miyeon arrives. She sits nearby, but with her back to Hyeju, making the plan even easier. Hyeju can barely contain a smile as she hides behind the menu, her eyes keenly watching the pampered, spoiled girl’s every move. Miyeon makes a quick call—obviously to you.

“Oh, of course, always late,” Miyeon sighs, her melodic voice tinged with slight annoyance. “It’s fine, I’ll wait for you. I’m at one of the outdoor tables, remember?”

Hyeju wonders if the lateness is part of the charm, like a cheap trick to make a grand entrance. Always the diva. She sighs. Nothing worth having ever shows up on time.

Miyeon continues to scroll on her phone, seemingly indifferent to the world around her, but Hyeju is on high alert. She lowers the menu just enough to peek, keeping herself discreetly hidden, especially now that a couple sits nearby, offering a bit more cover. She flinches as she hears your voice in the distance.

Finally, you arrive.

“Sorry I’m late,” you say with a smile that should be banned for public safety. And then, of course, a kiss on the cheek. A casual gesture, but enough to make Hyeju’s blood rise. “You know I’m naturally unpunctual,” you add, sitting down with the confidence of someone who’s sure the world revolves around them.

“Yeah, but I’m getting used to it,” Miyeon replies with a light laugh.

—

The conversation flows with a lightness that almost makes Hyeju shrink with discomfort. The two of you laugh at silly jokes, and the flirting... the flirting is ridiculously cringeworthy from a third-person perspective.

She also concluded that what you and Miyeon had for dinner was bad and ridiculously expensive (even without any real evidence).

"So," you say after a few glasses of wine, "I was really impressed with your work, Miyeon. It has a rare sensitivity, you know? The way you captured the delicacy of flowers in the urban environment... so poetic."

The only thing poetic about Miyeon is her endless privilege, which she doesn’t even know she has. Hyeju discreetly takes out her phone, pretending to be uninterested but already positioning the camera.

“Oh, thank you!” Miyeon replies, blushing in a way that seems rehearsed. “I really wanted someone to understand that, you know? You really summed up the essence of what I wanted to convey.”

Captured the essence… Hyeju practically screams internally. If that photo series had any more essence, it would become a perfume. She tilts her phone to a better angle and starts snapping discreet photos. Tiny clicks that get lost in the hum of the restaurant.

The two of you order dinner and keep talking, each word a dagger to Hyeju’s pride.

"By the way, you look stunning tonight," you say casually, and Miyeon smiles, lowering her gaze like a princess in a cheap fairy tale.

"Oh, thank you! And I have to say, you're so handsome. Well, I already knew because of the photos and interviews of yours that I watched, but when I saw you in person yesterday, wow..." Miyeon responds, throwing back the compliment like a golden frisbee.

Meanwhile, Hyeju continues to document it all, like a private investigator who decided ethics are optional. Every shared smile, every tilt of the body, every not-so-innocent wink. She watches the story unfold before her, barely containing her disgust.

This will be beautiful.

—

The night goes on with you and Miyeon in a dialogue that, to Hyeju, might as well be nails scraping a chalkboard. Sitting at a distance, she keeps her eyes on you, wondering for the thousandth time how the universe could be so cruel. It’s not like she wants to be in Miyeon’s place—of course not—but if you had to hit on someone, it could’ve at least been her.

At least her work was good.

"So, what's the secret?" you ask with a charming smile, leaning forward slightly, your voice low and intimate. "How does someone like you, so young and talented, manage to capture these... hmm... deep layers of meaning in your photos?"

Miyeon giggles, a sound that reminds Hyeju of coins clinking in a deep well. "Oh, you're flattering me! I don’t know if it’s all that. I just... observe the world, you know? Try to see what no one else sees." She gives a small sigh of exaggerated modesty, which makes Hyeju roll her eyes. What no one else sees? Is she kidding? Flowers on the streets? Everyone sees that.

Literally everyone.

You don’t back down, your attention fixed on every word from Miyeon as if she were the center of the world. “Humility... I love that in an artist. So many people out there are just pretentious. I already knew you were special just from looking at your photos, but now… well, I can see you’re as impressive as your work.”

Impressive? Hyeju nearly chokes on her wine, forcing herself to keep a neutral expression.

You’re practically drooling over Miyeon.

"Oh, you're very kind," Miyeon replies, blushing again. "I... I just try to do my part, you know? Show the world the beauty that's hidden. That people forget to notice. And I have to say, having your recognition is... well, it’s rewarding."

You smile and, without missing a beat, reach over to touch her arm lightly. "You know, Miyeon, I have to be honest... when I saw your work, I felt something I rarely feel. Like the photos were speaking to me, saying something I didn’t know I needed to hear."

Hyeju squirms in her seat. Speaking to you? About what exactly? 'Buy a flower vase'? 'Do urban gardening'?

Her work had explored the depth of human transience and the flow of life, while you let yourself be captivated by flowers and a rehearsed smile.

She bites her lip, growing anger as she thinks: If you had to pick a contestant to hook up with, you could at least have chosen someone with a decent series. Like mine. At least it would look like a fair and professional decision. Am I not attractive enough? Or maybe I just don’t have that... doll-like quality you seem to like?

You lean over the table again. “You know, Miyeon, I have to admit... I don’t usually feel this way at professional events. Honestly, I think I’ve lost patience with a lot of pretentious photographers. But you... you’re different.”

Miyeon pretends to be modest, covering her mouth with her hand as if she’s shy. “Oh, I just do what I love. Maybe that’s what makes me... different.”

Hyeju narrows her eyes. Different? Only if we’re talking about her bank account.

"Well," you continue, your tone softer, as if you were just chatting with a close friend. "I don’t know... there’s something about you. Your lightness. The way you see the world, through the lens and, of course, in person." You smile, clearly implying something deeper. "I’d love to see more of that."

Miyeon smiles sweetly, as if she doesn’t understand the double meaning that anyone within ten feet could catch. "I’d love to show you more of my work. I think there’s a lot we could share, not just as artists but as people."

Oh, wonderful, Hyeju thinks, holding her phone strategically, ready to capture the perfect moment. She almost feels her camera in her hands again, anger sharpening her focus in a twisted way. She wonders again why you chose Miyeon. What does she have that I don’t? Does this fool just like girls who look like dolls? Or is he afraid of a woman who won’t fall for this fake charm?

"This is perfect, Miyeon," you say, your voice sweet enough to sugar-coat a lemon. "By the way, I was thinking... we could continue this evening somewhere a bit more... peaceful." You lean a bit more over the table, your fingers sliding casually along the rim of her wine glass. "My hotel has an amazing view of the city at night. It would be a crime not to enjoy it."

Miyeon giggles, and Hyeju feels it’s the kind of giggle only someone completely clueless could give. “Oh, that would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? But... I have to go to that birthday party afterward,” she says, making that practiced pout again, like she’s breaking the heart of a poor little puppy. “From that friend of mine, remember? It’d be rude not to show up. I need to be there in less than an hour.”

“Oh, such a shame... I thought there’d be time...” Your tone is so forcedly disappointed that it almost sounds ironic. “You know, I’m leaving tomorrow. Who knows when we’ll get another chance to... enjoy the moment. It would be a pity to waste this night.”

Miyeon holds your hand with almost unbearable sweetness, leaning a little closer. “Oh, don’t worry,” she says, her eyes shining like she’s just made a solemn promise. “We’ll see each other again, for sure. And next time, no parties to interrupt.”

"I’ll hold you to that promise."

“You can count on it.”

Hyeju, until then lost in her thoughts of revolt and frustration, almost misses the moment. No way… Are they leaning in for a kiss? Her phone camera is already ready, and Hyeju quickly adjusts the focus. She almost fumbles but, at the last second, manages to capture the exact moment your lips meet. Bingo.

The kiss is brief, almost innocent, but enough for Hyeju to get what she needed. The final nail in the coffin of your reputation, or at least that’s what she hopes. She feels a wave of cold triumph wash over her. Now she had proof. Proof that you chose Miyeon not for her art, not for photographic genius (which was absurd enough), but simply because you were interested in her for... less artistic reasons, to say the least.

Miyeon pulls back with a rehearsed smile. “So we stay in touch?” she asks, already turning her attention back to her phone as if nothing important had happened.

“Yeah, sure. See you, Miyeon,” you say, your tone warm, but with a barely concealed note of frustration. “And I hope it’s soon.”

"Bye honey, thanks for this wonderful night."

Miyeon gets up, grabs her purse, tosses her hair back, and leaves the restaurant as if she’s walking off a runway. Hyeju watches her every step, feeling a strange mix of disdain and envy.

And there you are, still seated, momentarily lost in the direction Miyeon went, until you eventually come back to reality, calling a waiter to ask for the bill. And Hyeju, in that moment, knows she has the perfect weapon in her hands. A picture is worth a thousand words.

Revenge won’t just be sweet... it’ll be public.

You swipe your credit card, and as you wait for the receipt, your gaze lands on something interesting. Comical, really. There, sitting near you, hidden between two tables, is a woman trying to cover her face with the menu—a move worthy of someone trying to blend in like a plant in the middle of a desert. A mysterious woman, let’s call her that. You remember seeing her when you arrived; she’s been sitting there for quite a while without ordering anything, judging by the pristine table. You chuckle softly, intrigued by this peculiar figure.

Who acts like they're in a comedy film?

Maybe it’s the wine or perhaps the high that success brings, but you decide you have to find out what’s going on here. After taking the receipt, you stand up and approach her table. She hasn’t seen you, or maybe she’s pretending not to. Doesn’t matter. You throw yourself into the seat across from her with the confidence of someone who thinks the world revolves around them—because, let’s face it, for you, it does.

“Good evening,” you say in a casual tone, as if invading someone’s space were a natural extension of your personality. “Are you alone?”

She lowers the menu just enough to reveal her eyes, which are, incidentally, quite striking and sharp. But her expression shows the reluctance of someone who knows they’re about to enter a situation they don’t want but have no way out of. “No,” she replies, firm but a bit hesitant. “I’m waiting for someone.”

You smirk, a mix of mockery and sympathy, as if you’ve just heard the world’s lamest excuse, yet you’re willing to play along. “Ah, of course. Waiting for someone. Because, you know, I’ve seen you here alone for... what? An hour? I think, whoever this person is, they’re not showing up. Happens.” You sigh dramatically. “I know the type. Busy people, missed connections... But you know what’s worse? Being alone on such a lovely night.”

She looks at you as if you’ve just claimed the sky is purple. “I’m not alone,” she repeats, her voice sharpening. “My boyfriend is on his way.”

You raise an eyebrow, visibly interested. “Boyfriend, huh? Well, if he’s kept you waiting this long... maybe he’s not as interested as he should be.” You lean slightly forward, a faintly mocking smile on your face. “But if he doesn’t show, I could keep you company. I’m told I’m an excellent conversationalist.”

She gives you a look that suggests she’d rather have coffee with the Devil. “No, thank you. I saw you with a girl just now. Isn’t one enough, Mr. Meddler?”

You chuckle, as if she’d just accused you of a minor, harmless offense. “Ah, that lovely woman? Just a friend. Work-related, you know how it is. We just went out to celebrate her win in a contest she entered. Entirely professional.”

The way you say “professional” suggests the exact opposite, but she doesn’t comment, still skeptical.

“Can I know why you’re hiding your face like that? I’d love to see more than just those pretty eyes.”

“I’m shy,” she replies abruptly, trying to cut the conversation short. “Besides, when my boyfriend arrives, he won’t like to see you here.”

You raise your hands in an exaggerated surrender gesture, though the smile remains. “Alright, got it. I don’t want to cause any problems, especially with possessive boyfriends. It just seemed like you might have been... lonely, perhaps? But alright. Lucky you that he’s on his way, then. Hope you both have a magical evening.” You get up slowly, still keeping your eyes on her, clearly trying to decipher the enigma that is this woman with her face hidden.

As you walk away, Hyeju lets out a deep sigh, as if she’d just escaped a scene from a bad spy movie. That was too close, she thinks, her heart still racing.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have hidden,” she whispers to herself as a waiter approaches, still wearing that polite—and slightly irritated—smile he’d shown before.

“Ma’am, would you like to order something now?”

She forces a smile, though it’s obvious her appetite vanished long ago. “I... lost my appetite. Just the bill, please.”

The waiter walks away, and Hyeju remains there, looking at her reflection in the restaurant window, trying to understand how her day, which was supposed to be glorious, led her to this point.

“Well, since I won't be able to sleep tonight, then neither will he.”

—

You’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth with more force than necessary, as if trying to scrub away the bitter taste of the evening. Miyeon is gorgeous, but empty, you conclude. It wouldn’t be the first time you regretted being led by your eyes instead of your head. After all, sleeping with her would’ve just been a tedious side note in your record of bad decisions. You finish, splash water on your face, and are about to settle into bed when a distinctive knock on the door interrupts your thoughts.

“Who the hell...?” You grumble, frowning. It’s late, and you weren’t expecting anyone.

You head to the door, ready to send away whoever’s disturbing you.

But what you see makes you hesitate. Standing at your door is Hyeju, eyes blazing with a fury you hadn’t seen before. Before you can process it, she storms into the room with the grace of a storm about to break.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You shut the door, stunned, as she strides in without so much as a glance, her presence filling the room faster than you can comprehend it.

“You’re fucked,” Hyeju declares.

You turn, confusion turning to indignation.

“How did you even get in here?” you demand, voice rising.

She pauses, as if savoring your disbelief. “Reception,” she begins, as if it were obvious. “I told them I was your assistant and had something urgent to give you before your trip tomorrow. People trust good lies.” She gives a small, humorless smile.

Trip? How the hell does she know you’re leaving tomorrow?

Forget it, doesn’t matter now. You just need to make sure you never stay at this poorly secured hotel again.

Your mouth opens and closes, trying to piece together the absurdity. “Let me guess, you’re here because of the damn magazine, right?”

“Exactly. I demand you put me among the winners.” She crosses her arms, her tone as sharp as a knife.

You laugh, but it’s a harsh, humorless sound. “You’re a sore loser, Hyeju. You lost. Failed. Were defeated. Accept it and stop bothering me.” You step forward, indignation rising within you, but she doesn’t back down.

She laughs, too, but it’s a bitter sound. “Lost? Of course, I lost. Because the brilliant critic was more interested in sleeping with one of the contestants than doing his job.”

The comment hits like a punch, and you freeze for a second. “What?” you stammer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I bet you know exactly what I'm talking about. I saw you two at the restaurant.” She says it with such certainty that a chill runs down your spine. The woman hidden behind the menu... Of course. It makes sense now. “I have proof. Took photos. I was going to expose it publicly, but first, I wanted to see your face... before I ruined your life.”

Your heart pounds, pressure building in your chest. “Proof?” The word barely makes it out of your mouth. Of course, she took photos. And of course, she didn’t just come here to provoke—you’re here to be blackmailed.

“Exactly. And my demand is simple: you remove Miyeon or any other winner and place me there. Though I’d prefer you remove Miyeon, if you don’t mind.”

You try to regain your composure, take a deep breath, and shoot her a scathing look. “You think you can blackmail me like this? I can’t change the results, Hyeju. Even if I wanted to. Besides, why the hell do you think you deserve to win? Besides being a crybaby, you also have a lot of arrogance.”

Hyeju’s grip on your shirt is as sudden as it is forceful. Her fingers curl around the fabric, pulling you closer, and for a moment, you’re so surprised you just freeze. She didn’t just confront you; she dominated you. The proximity is suffocating, and the fury in her eyes brings a sensation you’d never admit: a flash of fear.

“Why didn’t you choose me?” Her voice, low and laced with restrained anger, fills the room. The question isn’t just a demand for an answer; it’s an order. You, the esteemed critic, a giant in your field, feel small for a second.

You try to speak, but your mouth is dry. How did things spiral so far out of control? She pulls you closer, her breath hot against your face, and your heart races, not from fear of what she might physically do, but from her intensity. That intensity burns in a way you find disturbingly thrilling.

"I'm talking to you!" she says, each word leaving her mouth with a fierce heat. "Why did you pick her? The porcelain doll you wanted to take to bed? And why did you leave me out? Because I'm not as 'pretty' as she is? Because I don’t have the shiny veneer of someone who can spend money on stupid trips around the world?"

You feel your shirt tighten against your chest, and though your mind wants to resist, your body… obeys. There’s a pulse of adrenaline you didn’t expect, and for the first time, you genuinely don’t know how to handle this.

“No... that’s not it,” you attempt to protest, but your voice sounds weaker than expected.

"Oh, isn't it?!" Hyeju laughs, but it’s far from amused. "Then explain it to me, acclaimed critic. Why her and not me? Because if your excuse is that my series was outdated, then what was that farce with flowers on concrete? An insult to anyone with half a brain!"

The sarcasm drips from her voice, but you’re more focused on the growing pressure. She pulls you even closer, your faces almost touching, and you feel sweat trickling down your temple, your body tensed between panic and a strange exhilaration. She’s in control, and for the first time in a long time, you’re left without solid ground.

She stares at you with a fierce smile. "So, tell me. Why? What did I do wrong? Oh, let me guess: I’m not some rich doll with a perfectly symmetrical face? Is that it? That I'm not the kind of woman you'd want to take out to dinner and then have sex with?"

You try to regain control, because this is throwing you off balance. You let out a forced laugh, trying to project the confidence that slipped away minutes ago. "It has nothing to do with beauty, Hyeju."

"Oh, no?" She yanks your shirt again, and you stumble forward. "Then why did you pick her? Am I less of an artist because I didn’t give you a seductive glance? Speak up, because that’s exactly how it feels!"

Your body leans forward, practically collapsing under her strength, and for a second you feel the power shift. Her anger is almost tangible, like a force you can feel pressing against you. And you… are at her mercy. Your mind races, but every thought is drawn back to the grip of her hands, to the look in her eyes, a fury that threatens to consume her whole.

You make one last attempt. "You want to know the real reason?" Your voice comes out stronger this time, though still tinged with exhaustion. "Fine, I’ll tell you, you wild thing! I saw that damn tweet of yours."

Hyeju pauses, her grip loosening slightly, eyes narrowing. "Tweet...? What tweet?"

You finally exhale, your chest expanding with momentary relief, but the tension remains. "The one you posted years ago. Calling me a narcissist, arrogant, wedding photographer, saying I had no talent. Conveniently on the same day I won a big award. Remember that? Yeah, I saw it. And yes, I knew it was aimed at me."

She falters, surprised. The intensity is still there, but for a second, you see a flicker of doubt in those previously blazing eyes. "That… that was years ago." Her voice is lower now, almost unsure. "I was just a dumb teenager. I didn’t even know your work properly."

You take a step forward this time, the balance of power shifting again. "I don’t care, Hyeju. You think you can say whatever online and, years later, cozy up to me when you need something? Not to mention this sailor-level crudeness of yours, barging into my room trying to intimidate me. You’re a fake artist. And you know what? This is what you deserve. You’ve already lost. And if you don’t leave now, I swear I’ll ruin your career before it even begins."

She hesitates, biting her lip, her eyes darting toward the door. But the anger is still there, bubbling beneath the surface. "Oh, that’s it? You think you scare me?" she mutters, but her tone wavers a bit. “Fine, if that’s how you want to play it, then goodbye. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She turns on her heels and heads toward the door.

You take a deep breath, thinking the worst is over, but then the memory of the photos hits you. You move quickly, locking the door, and Hyeju, surprised, takes a step back.

"Not so fast," you say, your tone laced with a new kind of certainty.

She hasn’t finished with you, but you aren’t done with her, either.

Hyeju raises an eyebrow, suspicious. She crosses her arms and looks at you as if she’s seen it all. The air between you isn’t exactly cold; it’s more like that stifling heat before a storm.

“Look,” you start, adjusting your collar as if that might ease your discomfort. “Maybe we started off on the wrong foot, really wrong. How about we try doing this right? Something positive, something that’s mutually beneficial.”

Hyeju narrows her eyes, unimpressed. “I’m not interested in anything other than you pulling Miyeon from the winners and putting me in her place.”

“I can’t do that. You know that. If I backtrack now, what would be left of my reputation? As a critic, I can’t afford to look... indecisive or, worse, corrupt.”

She laughs, but it’s not a pleasant one. It’s the kind that says you got yourself into this mess. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before deciding to screw me over.”

You swallow, feeling the blow, but you persist. “I... I was immature, Hyeju. Honestly. When I saw that tweet... I don’t know, it hit me in a way I didn’t expect. It was stupid of me to hold onto it and let my bruised ego guide my decision. It wasn’t professional, and I know that.”

Hyeju seems surprised but tries to hide it. Her anger, which was so visibly intense before, seems to give way to an internal conflict.

"So it was all because of a tweet?" She lets out a disbelieving sigh. "A tweet? That was years ago! It was just a quick jab. I was frustrated at the time; nothing was going right in my life. Seeing someone around my age achieving so much… I didn’t really mean those things.”

“I get that. And I should’ve realized it. But I couldn’t. I was childish, let my pride get in the way, and ended up… I made a big mistake. And you didn’t deserve that.”

Hyeju hesitates, the words lingering in the air as she decides whether to forgive you. “And I... I don’t see things that way anymore. I criticized you before really understanding your work. What I said—or rather, tweeted—was shallow. I changed my opinion after, started admiring your work and being inspired by it. If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t even be here. So... I’m sorry.”

She seems to swallow her words with difficulty, but there’s something genuine in the apology. You see it, and something in you softens.

“I’m sorry too,” you say, your voice lower, less defensive. “For the way I treated you. I could’ve been fair, but I let something petty from the past cloud my judgment. Now, I can’t just undo it all. But I can admit your work is excellent. You deserved more.”

Hyeju turns her face, looking out the window, contemplating her next words.

“Alright... so... what do you suggest?”

You take a step forward, seizing the small opening. “I suggest we do something together. A project, a collaboration. Something that shows your talent, without needing any favoritism, where nobody loses. A chance to prove you’re far more than just a frustrated competitor.”

Hyeju looks at you, her head tilted. She’s processing, considering the offer. “And how do I know you won’t screw me over again?”

You smile, tired but sincere. “Because, honestly, I don’t want to screw you over. I did it once and… frankly, it didn’t do me any good. I want to make things right.”

She shakes her head slowly, as if the idea is taking shape in her mind. “Okay. Okay, fine. But don’t think that makes you a saint. I still think you acted like an ass because of a tweet.”

You laugh, a light laugh, almost relieved. “I was. No doubt about it. A total ass. But one who now wants to make things right.”

Hyeju finally sighs, as if accepting that there’s nothing left to do but move forward. “Alright then. Let’s see where this goes.”

The atmosphere in the room starts to relax. You feel the tension drain away slowly.

“And, just for the record,” she says with a wry grin, “Miyeon’s series? Horrible. A disaster. You need to admit it."

You laugh. “You have no idea the sacrifice. I nearly drowned in metaphors trying to explain to journalists that it was at least acceptable.”

“Acceptable? For that series to be called bad, it still has a long way to go!”

“You’re tough with your critiques—I respect that,” you say. “Now, since there’s no more conflict, how about you be a good girl and delete those photos?” you add with a wink.

You watch as Hyeju reaches into her bag for her phone, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. She scrolls through her gallery until she lands on the shots she took of you and Miyeon, that innocent kiss in the restaurant now preserved in pixels. And when she turns the screen toward you, the sight of those images suddenly makes you painfully aware of your own foolishness.

“So, what do you think?” Hyeju teases, her tone laced with the knowledge that she has the upper hand. “Should I take up your collaboration offer, or… let these photos go public? It’d make for a juicy career-ending scandal, wouldn’t you say? The photography prodigy, brought down by a cheap affair.”

You laugh nervously, mostly because that’s what’s expected. Inside, your brain is already calculating the damage. “Alright, alright… Hyeju, let's not act on impulse...”

She shrugs, clearly enjoying your discomfort, then taps the screen and deletes the photos with a theatrical gesture. “Relax. I just wanted to see you sweat a little. Poetic justice, you know?”

You blink, caught off guard, unsure if you should feel relieved or resentful. “You really enjoy playing with fire, don’t you?”

“If you knew me, you’d know I do it all the time.” She slips her phone back into her bag, glancing around the room like she’s already bored. “Guess that’s that. I’ll be going, then.”

Something about her words gnaws at you more than it should. Almost on impulse, you reach out and grab her wrist. “Wait. Stay.”

She looks at you, half wary, half confused. “What are you doing?”

You chuckle softly, as if catching yourself in a slip. “I’d like to talk more with you. About… photography, art, whatever. You seem interesting. Now that there’s no drama, there’s no harm in getting to know each other better, right?”

“I still think you’re a jerk, you know.”

“I can live with that.” You smile—that smile that usually softens people up, the one that says, Yes, I’m a jerk, but a lovable one, right?

She hesitates, her gaze wandering to the mirror across the room. The reflection shows someone who clearly put effort into looking their best: the elegant dress, the perfect hair, all planned for an occasion that now feels like a waste of effort.

“Fine,” she finally replies, with a kind of resigned reluctance. “But only because I’m already here.”

You stand up, victory masked on your face, and head to the mini-fridge. Grabbing two beers, you gesture vaguely toward the bed. “Have a seat. I don’t bite… unless you ask, of course.”

She sits on the edge of the bed, still upright, as if ready to leave at any moment. You open one of the bottles and hand it to her as you sit beside her with your own.

“So,” you begin, taking a sip, “how does a promising photographer and an award-winning jerk end up here after a disastrous evening?”

Hyeju takes a sip, mulling over her answer. “Promising, huh? Look at that, the jerk knows how to recognize talent.”

“I always have,” you shrug, “but sometimes, circumstances… complicate things.”

“Circumstances like… sabotaging me over a grudge and favoring another girl just for a hookup?”

“In my defense she is as beautiful as she is empty, she has a beautiful smile and a lovely laugh… Fuck, you end up liking her…”

“That explains a lot. I knew your choice was questionable, but I didn’t know you had a fetish for wax dolls.”

“Ouch! And impressively accurate.”

Hyeju smirks, a small smile that carries a certain pride. “I’m good with words, as well as photos. Maybe I should consider a career as an art critic?”

“Oh, no, please. We have enough critics as it is. Most of them are bitterer than bad beer.”

She takes another sip, relaxing a bit more. “I don’t have the patience for it. I’d rather be on the other side, creating.”

“I can see it in your photos. They have soul.”

“Trying to impress me?”

“Maybe,” you admit, winking. “Maybe I’m just trying to make up for being a jerk earlier.”

“Keep trying, but it's not like I trust you anyway.”

You feign an offended look, hand dramatically on your chest. “Me? Incredible! Talented! Award-winning! Humble! And you still don’t trust me?”

Hyeju rolls her eyes so hard you almost expect her to get dizzy. “Award-winning? Congratulations on flattering people enough to get awards.”

“First of all, I never flattered anyone to get where I am. And, hey, look who’s talking about flattery,” you retort, taking a sip of beer. “Someone who’s already tried to ruin me with 280 characters and then spent the entire day trying to play nice. What happened to all that digital hostility, sweetheart?”

She leans in a bit, her lips curved into a smile that feels more like a threat. “You want me to be hostile again? Because I can.”

“No hostility,” you respond, smiling with a calm air. “But I’ll admit, I’m enjoying this side of you. Way more interesting than Miyeon.”

“Oh, so you like stressing people out?”

“Maybe,” you shrug. “You know… life would be boring without a good argument.”

She takes another sip of beer, like she’s deciding whether or not to keep going with this. “If it weren’t for the tweet,” she starts, in a casual tone, “would you have hit on me instead of Rich Girl Barbie?”

You chuckle, a little surprised by the directness, but not exactly bothered. “Hard to say. You don’t strike me as the type to fall for my usual charm. It would’ve been a challenge.”

“So right now I'm just a challenge to you?” she fires back.

“Hey, hey,” you raise your hands, grinning. “Not at all. But I admit I like someone who keeps me on my toes. Easy people… honestly, they put me to sleep.”

“So you sleep with Miyeon and literally fall asleep right after?” Hyeju shoots back dryly.

You burst out laughing, unable to help yourself. “Well, that’s pretty much what almost happened.”

Hyeju snickers, one of those laughs she tries to pass off as disbelief, but you catch the gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. “You’re pathetic.”

“I know,” you agree cheerfully. “But a charming kind of pathetic, or so they say.”

She shakes her head, smirking. “I don’t know how you can be so cocky and somehow a little likable at the same time.”

“It’s a rare skill,” you reply, leaning back a bit, studying her expressions as if trying to capture every detail. “And you, Hyeju, are very good at being… difficult.”

She meets your gaze, her expression firm. “Difficult? No. I’m just honest.”

“Yes, you say exactly what you think, all the time. And you know what? That’s kind of… refreshing. No one does that.”

“That’s because the world’s full of brown-nosers and idiots,” Hyeju replies, and you realize she genuinely believes that. “I don’t have time for that kind of people. If I think something’s crap, I say it.”

“Like my work,” you say, laughing. “You thought it was crap and tweeted about it.”

She takes a long sip, her eyes never leaving yours. “Exactly. And it wrecked you.”

“Wrecked? Me?” You raise a hand as if making a vow. “I thrive on criticism—it’s my fuel.”

“Didn’t look like it when you ignored me in the exhibition,” she shoots back.

“Maybe,” you admit, smiling. “But, honestly? That tweet was the best backhanded compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

Hyeju tilts her head, intrigued. “And how did you reach that brilliant conclusion?”

“Because you only went after me because you were envious of my accomplishments,” you say, looking straight into her eyes. “And I can assure you, I worked hard to get where I am.”

She pauses, biting her lip as if weighing her thoughts. “Okay, just as I'm honest about offending your work, I'm also honest about stepping back and reconsidering my opinion, so yeah, I admire your art. And maybe a hundred years from now I'll admire you too.”

“Oh, so there’s a chance you’ll change your mind?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” she replies, feigning disinterest. “If you stop being a jerk, I might consider it.”

“Now I have a new goal,” you laugh. “Stop being a jerk for Hyeju. That’s a harder project than any photoshoot.”

“Good luck,” she says, raising her bottle in a toast. “You’ll need it.”

The toast feels like a silent pact. A truce between two forces who clearly enjoy challenging each other. And you realize, against all odds, that you’re genuinely enjoying the night.

"You know," you start, leaning in slightly toward her, "that impossible way you have about you... I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like that."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she asks, crossing her arms like she's expecting another sarcastic remark.

"Good," you reply, serious for a brief second, before breaking the mood with a playful smile. "Good, but unbearable. I think you're getting me addicted to fights."

"It's an addictive drug, this whole 'brutal honesty' thing," she says, tossing her hair back. "But I can’t promise you’ll handle the addiction."

"Now I want to find out," you answer, not missing a beat.

You lean back on the bed a little, looking at Hyeju with a smile that's half-charm, half-tease. She stares right back, clearly unwilling to drop her guard, though the playful gleam in her eyes is undeniable.

"Look," she starts, still holding the empty beer bottle between her fingers, "You said I’m more interesting than Miyeon, but, let's face it, she's perfect. So perfect it's annoying. If she's your type, then I’m definitely not."

You raise an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. "Who said she’s my type? And who said you're not?"

She shrugs, as if it’s obvious. "If you like porcelain dolls, I’m definitely in a different category, dude."

"I'm a man of varied tastes," you counter, leaning in a bit. "And honestly? You’re very much my type."

"Oh, sure. I'll pretend to believe that."

You chuckle, but there's something more serious in your voice as you look at her a bit more closely. "I’m serious. You’ve got those eyes... those eyes that are hypnotizing. It’s like you’re a wolf, ready to pounce."

She lets out a low laugh, her skeptical expression barely shifting. "I'll really pretend to believe that."

"No, seriously!" you insist, laughing too, though your voice drops slightly, almost conspiratorial. "When you grabbed me by the shirt earlier, looked me dead in the eyes like that, I swear my heart skipped a beat. Really."

Hyeju looks at you for a moment, then one corner of her mouth curls into a mischievous smile. "You're saying you like dominant girls, is that it?"

"I’d say so, yeah. And I think a woman with enough power could put me in my place. Some people unfortunately only learn the hard way."

She is silent as she places the empty bottle on the nightstand, then she looks at you with an unreadable, yet quite sexy expression. "You make me laugh," she says, her voice a bit softer now, but with that sharp, mocking edge. "And it’s hard for a guy to make me laugh." You feel oddly complimented, but before you can respond, she continues, "But I think it's because you're kinda pathetic.”

"Pathetic, huh?"

She smiles back, eyes locked on yours as she approaches you on the bed. "Yes, pathetic. In a... charming way, as you said.”

You let out a short laugh, lowering your head for a moment before looking back at her. "Well, there’s something pretty sexy about the way you humiliate me. It makes me feel strange things."

"Oh, yeah?" Her tone is teasing, but her eyes study you with an intensity that wasn’t there before. "I make you feel that way, huh?"

You swallow, but keep the smile on your face. "You do. And I need to be honest, I’m enjoying it a lot more than I expected."

"Okay, you really are pathetic."

"Maybe," you answer, looking directly into her eyes. "And I think that's a good thing for a tough girl; you know, she can do whatever she wants with a guy like that." Hyeju stares at you for a moment as if she's deciding what to do next, but instead of saying something, she just smiles subtly. You feel the atmosphere in the room shift again, this time into something more electric, something that makes your heart beat a little faster. "Oh, and maybe," you add, your voice almost a whisper now, "getting under your skin was the smartest thing I did today."

"Smart or suicidal?”

“Well, I’m hoping to find out soon if it was smart or suicidal," you reply as you hand her your bottle so she can put it on the nightstand.

Hyeju, more relaxed now, slips off her heels and, without ceremony, puts her legs across your lap. You can't help but take a good look at her toned thighs before starting to massage her feet, noticing how tense they are. "You know," you start, your voice casual, "you would have been way better company than Miyeon at that restaurant."

“If you’d slept with Miyeon, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

You pause the foot massage for a moment, reflecting, before shrugging. “Maybe. But, honestly? I think I would’ve regretted it. She’s... well, pretty, but she’s like a hardcover book with blank pages."

“So, what? I’m the more interesting option, but clearly the second choice.”

“Second choice? Look, maybe you’re seeing this the wrong way.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s the right way to see it?” She crosses her arms but keeps her legs on your lap.

You take a dramatic pause, your hand still resting on her thigh. "Well, who knows... maybe the universe got involved in this whole thing just to make sure we’d end up here, now. Maybe Miyeon was just the excuse."

"That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. If that’s the best you can come up with, I think I understand why your art judgment is so... questionable."

You smile, charmed by how easily she can tear you down with a single line. "It might not work for you, but I’m good at adapting to circumstances. And speaking of adapting..." Your hand slides a little further up her leg, an almost innocent move, if not for the way your fingers rest on her soft skin. "I have to admit, you looked absolutely stunning at the exhibition yesterday."

“Oh, yeah? What exactly did you find so stunning?"

"Everything. Your dress, your hair, your perfume, you also look quite cute when you're nervous. It was hard for me to be rude to you… Seriously, I’m sorry for being such a jerk.”

Hyeju laughs, a low, almost gentle sound this time, like she's testing you. “You don’t apologize often, do you?”

“It doesn’t happen a lot,” you admit, feeling a wave of genuine honesty that doesn’t usually come up. "But now I want to apologize as much as necessary for you to forgive me."

She uncrosses her arms, and suddenly, the tension in the air shifts again. "It’s in the past," she murmurs, as if she's more focused on the present than on what happened before.

Then, before you know it, she takes her legs off your lap and leans in closer, your faces so close you can smell her soft perfume. "You know," she says, her tone half-mocking but with a hint of gentleness, "for a jerk, you’re actually pretty cute."

And without warning, her lips touch yours.

The kiss starts almost playfully, a silent dare that Hyeju seems intent on winning. She's dangerously close, her hand on your chest, and you can feel your heart pounding. She smiles between the press of her lips, as if she's reveling in your reaction. You feel the texture of her lips, soft yet firm, a kiss with that unstable tension that only makes things more thrilling. Then Hyeju decides to escalate, her fingers tracing the nape of your neck, and your hand squeezing the soft flesh of her thigh, absorbing that delicious heat. The sexual tension isn't just a spark; it's a full-blown inferno. You feel the heat rising from your lips to your face, to every inch of your skin. You try to hold back, to maintain your composure, because right now she's simply enjoying the game, and you don't want to spoil her pleasure. She pulls away for a moment, long enough for you to think the kiss is over, but it's just a cruel tease, because she's back, and this time the touch is gentler, as if she's toying with you, controlling the intensity with maddening precision. And you're convinced this is the kind of kiss that should be studied, because it's layered with meaning—a subtle provocation, a hint of irritating attraction, and an unexpected honesty that doesn't belong to two people who, just hours ago, could barely stand each other. Hatred transformed into pure desire, and it's in everything—the fine sheen of sweat, the exchanged saliva, the air, in the curious hands... The night is just beginning.

"Did you like it?" Hyeju asks.

You smile, that half-sly, half-entranced grin. “The universe definitely knows what it’s doing,” you reply.

“You’re a scoundrel, you know that?” Hyeju mutters, her voice low, as if she’s talking more to herself.

“Scoundrel? Yeah, a scoundrel with no salvation... unless some girl touches my heart.” You chuckle, that self-deprecating tone that just makes the moment even more fun.

She gives you a light slap on your chest. "Stop trying to be romantic. It doesn’t suit you.”

You laugh, genuinely, and run a hand through her hair, moving down to her shoulder. "Who said I’m trying?"

She looks at you with a mixture of disbelief and... something else. Something warmer. "Maybe you’re more interesting than I thought," she admits, almost reluctantly.

"And you," you say, your voice lowering slightly, “are much more than just interesting.”

Hyeju smiles in a way that can only be described as dangerously charming. Without warning, she moves quickly, and before you understand what’s happening, she’s sitting on top of you. Her weight on your lap is both comfortable and destabilizing, like at that moment, the control of the situation has shifted hands. And clearly, it has.

"Oh, so this is how you want to play?" you ask, trying to keep some control over your own voice.

She tilts her head, her hair falling to the side, that smile still firmly on her lips. "Me? Play? Honey, I already won."

And then she kisses you again, this time with an intensity that catches you off guard, Making you lie on your back in bed. There’s no hesitation, just desire carved into every move, every touch. Her tongue meets yours as if she's marking territory, and the sensation is electrifying. Your hands, as if they have a mind of their own, slide up her thighs, feeling the firmness and softness of her skin, moving up her waist until they reach her back.

She leans in more, her lips now moving to your neck, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. Every kiss feels like a small conquest, as if she’s claiming pieces of you inch by inch.

"You get goosebumps so easily, don't you?" Hyeju murmurs against your skin.

"Not my fault," you reply, your voice rougher than usual. "You know exactly where to touch."

She lets out a low chuckle, her teeth grazing lightly along your skin. "You haven't seen anything yet."

When she kisses you again, it's a mix of desire and absolute control. Her hands cradle your face, her lips moving with precision, and you can't help but think, in the heat of that moment, it's utterly addictive. Your tongues tangle frantically, as if every second holds a newfound urgency.

"I’m going to teach you a lesson," she murmurs between kisses, biting your lip gently. The brief pain only intensifies your longing.

You chuckle low, trying to keep a trace of your mocking personality amid the chaos. "And what kind of lesson would that be?"

She pauses, looking into your eyes with an intensity that almost undoes you on the spot. "The lesson that you can’t underestimate someone like me," she says, her hands sliding down your chest. "Because, in the end, I always win."

You give her a lopsided grin, still trying to maintain some semblance of control, but it's clear you've already lost. "Confident, huh?"

"More than you," she responds with a smirk, resuming her kisses as her hands explore every inch of your body. Your own hands are back on her thighs, moving up, feeling every curve, every line. She moves with a fluidity that can only be described as fierce.

For a moment, you try to catch your breath, but she doesn’t give you room. "You really love having control, don't you?"

Hyeju stops and looks at you, that mischievous smile still on her lips. "And you love losing it. Admit it."

"Maybe I’m learning to like it," you reply, your hand sliding along the curve of her waist.

Hyeju pauses, and slowly pulls away, as if she knows exactly what she’s doing to you, before climbing off your body. With a sly smile, she stands, eyes blazing with mischief.

"Hold on, bad boy, we’re doing this my way." She says, raising her hands to finally remove the dress. The zipper slides smoothly down, and with one firm motion, the fabric falls to the floor, revealing her flawless lingerie. Her body is a living masterpiece, the kind that makes your heart both skip and race.

You watch, mouth slightly open, unable to hide your awe. "Damn… I can't take my eyes off you, you're so fucking perfect, Hyeju," you murmur.

"And you think I don’t know that?" She steps toward you, her eyes locked on yours, stopping just in front of you. "Now take off those clothes. Quickly."

Her voice is firm, almost commanding, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. "Looks like someone’s in charge today, huh?"

"Are you still talking?" she counters with a half-smile, leaning over you. "I thought you’d already figured out who calls the shots here."

You laugh, but comply without argument. You start to take off your shirt and pants quickly, trying to keep your usual charm, though you know she already has the upper hand. When you're down to just your boxers, Hyeju gives you an appraising look from head to toe, releasing a playful sigh.

"Much better," she says, placing a hand on her hip as she assesses you critically, like she’s judging what's in front of her. "But it’s still not quite good enough."

"Care to give me a hand here?" you tease.

Hyeju shakes her head, stepping forward until your bodies are almost touching. “Are you really incapable of doing anything on your own?" she says, her tone cool, but her face still wearing that wicked smile. "Fine, I’ll help you with this."

She gives your chest a light shove, making you lie back on the bed.

Hyeju approaches, her steps slow, almost like a huntress, until she easily straddles you, pressing her body against yours.

She starts kissing you, her lips hot and hungry, and you respond in kind, running your hands along her back, feeling the delicate fabric of her bra. Her kisses travel down your neck, swift and sure, until she begins to explore your chest with her mouth.

"And to think all that anger at Miyeon was really jealousy," you say, laughing between breaths as she moves lower. "Gonna deny that seeing her with me drove you crazy?"

Hyeju pauses, her lips hovering over your abdomen. She meets your gaze with a sharp look, her smile dangerously mischievous. "Crazy? Yes. But don’t get cocky. It drove me crazy for all the wrong reasons."

She continues her trail of kisses along your body, unhurried, as if she knows exactly the impact she's having on you. Her warm lips slide across your skin until she stops just above the line of your boxers.

"Are you really going to make me wait?"

"I love watching you lose control," she murmurs, before trailing her tongue slowly along your stomach. "And it looks like it's already happening."

She places a teasing kiss just above the bulge in your boxers, pressing down lightly with her fingers, and you can’t hold back a low moan. "If you keep this up, I'll have to pay you back," you threaten, but it's clear you have no intention of changing the dynamic.

Hyeju laughs, squeezing a bit more firmly, her eyes never leaving yours. "I love when you try to act tough. It’s actually cute." She plants another kiss over your boxers before lifting her head. "But we both know who’s in charge here."

She leans forward, kissing your chest again, her skilled hands toying with your nipples as your body responds to her every touch.

"You’ll thank me later," she whispers, her mouth descending again to your boxers, eyes locked onto yours. "You can bet on that."

"Or maybe I’ll be the one making you thank me," you retort, trying to keep up appearances, but knowing she’s already winning.

"Nice try," Hyeju says with a wicked grin, her fingers hooking onto the waistband of your boxers. "Now, let’s see if you can last."

She slowly and deliberately pulls down your boxers, revealing your hard cock, completely at her mercy. She releases an exaggerated sigh, her eyes fixed on you, savoring every second of your anticipation.

"Well, look at this," she taunts, tilting her head slightly as she lightly trails her hand along the length. "All this, just for me? What an honor."

You chuckle, trying to keep your cool. "Feel flattered all you want, but I want to see what you're going to do with it."

She smiles, that familiar look of pure mischief flashing across her face, before lowering her head slowly. She stops just as her lips are about to touch the head, hovering mere millimeters away, and looks up at you. "You're going to learn to stay quiet."

And before you can respond with another joke, she wraps her warm, wet lips around the head of your cock, and you let out an involuntary moan. The sensation is instant, and you can barely hold back. Hyeju works with precision, starting slow, just the tip, swirling her tongue in circles that leave you breathless.

"Still feeling cocky?" she teases, pulling away for a moment, a thin line of saliva connecting her lips to your cock. She smirks, wiping the saliva with her finger and licking it off, maintaining eye contact. "Or have you given up on playing tough?" You try to reply, but with the pleasure surging through you, you only manage an incoherent mumble. This only makes her smile grow. "Thought so."

She goes back to sucking, now taking more of you, swallowing most of your length with ease, her eyes never leaving yours. She makes sure to stay in control, adjusting the intensity and speed according to what she wants from you. Every time you moan louder, she slows down, as if testing your limits.

"How are you feeling, baby?" she asks, pulling away briefly to stroke your wet cock. "I know you love it when I make you wait."

"Not gonna lie," you admit, breathless, your mind spinning from the building pleasure. "But... you’ll have to try harder if you want to break me."

"Oh, I’ll break you, don’t worry."

She leans back down, licking along the entire length, slowly, savoring every part of you. "I'll teach you the lesson you deserve."

Her pace begins to increase, the movements faster and more intense, her mouth sliding up and down in an intoxicating rhythm. She takes you all the way, the wet sound and her soft moans filling the room. You feel the heat and pressure building, as though she's drawing the life out of you.

"Getting close, aren’t you?" she asks between licks.

"You... you know it," you admit, barely able to speak.

"Then get ready," she murmurs, focusing on the head, sucking with intensity while her hand moves to cup your balls. "Because I want to watch you lose control."

And you do. The pleasure is overwhelming, your whole body trembling as she keeps sucking, relentless. The way she alternates between licking, sucking, and squeezing your balls pushes you to the edge. You feel the pressure mounting, your body preparing to explode, but she slows down once again, pulling away and chuckling softly.

"You want to come, don't you? But not so fast," she teases, her lips still grazing the tip of your cock. She kisses the head softly, almost like she's rewarding you for holding out this long. "I'm going to end up killing you with all this teasing, you know that?" She laughs, resuming with a slower, yet equally devastating rhythm.

Each time she takes back control, the intensity climbs gradually, until you're at a point where your mind can barely keep up. Her mouth doesn’t stop, her eyes fixed on you, as if savoring the power she has in her hands—or rather, in her mouth.

Hyeju intensifies her movements, her mouth sliding over your cock with a practiced ease, not letting up. The way she switches between firm suction and long licks is unbearably good, and you feel the pleasure building up to explosive levels.

She watches you from below, a sharp gaze that knows exactly what it’s doing. "I can feel you shaking. You’re almost there, aren’t you?"

"Fuck... yeah, almost," you moan, your body arching involuntarily as pleasure reaches a peak that feels impossible to contain.

She smiles, clearly reveling in the control she has over you. "I know you can’t hold out much longer. But you’re only going to come when I let you. Got it?"

"Got it..." you manage to reply, your voice breaking as your breathing grows heavier. Each second feels like an eternity, your body begging for release, but she keeps dictating the pace, keeping you on the edge.

She leans down again, sucking harder, as one hand wraps around the base of your cock, gripping and controlling every movement. Her other hand caresses your balls, squeezing lightly, pushing you even closer to the edge.

"You’re going to come so hard for me," Hyeju murmurs, pulling your cock from her mouth for a moment. "But only when I want you to. I want to feel that power I have over you."

"You already have all the power," you groan, practically pleading. "Please..."

"That's how I like it," she says with a satisfied smile, going back to sucking, as if she wants to consume you entirely. "Now, get ready. When I give the order, you’re going to give me everything you've got."

She picks up the pace, sucking with devotion, her wet, firm lips around you, each second bringing you closer to the edge. Her eyes never leave yours, as if she's feeding off your expression of pure desperation and ecstasy.

"Are you ready?" she asks, her voice low and commanding. You can only moan in response, already incapable of forming words.

"I want you to come for me... now!"

Her words are the final trigger. The control you’ve been struggling to maintain shatters completely. Pleasure overwhelms you, and you let out a loud moan, your whole body convulsing as the first wave of orgasm crashes over you. Hyeju doesn’t let up, continuing to suck with the same intensity, taking each spurt of cum with a blend of satisfaction and triumph.

"Yes... give me everything," she murmurs between movements, her voice muffled as she keeps sucking, swallowing every drop without hesitation, as if she's feeding off you. "Good boy... I knew you’d give me everything I wanted."

Your whole body trembles as she continues, pushing you beyond your limits, until pleasure melds with exhaustion. Hyeju finally pulls her mouth away, slowly licking her lips to clean off the last traces of your cum.

"Wow..." you gasp, unable to keep from smiling, your mind still reeling. "If that wasn't a perfect blowjob, I don’t know what is."

Hyeju laughs, satisfied, leaning over you, her body warm against yours. "I warned you I’d knock you out, didn’t I?"

You nod, still catching your breath. "I underestimated you. But now... I’m completely convinced."

Her lips find yours with renewed heat, the slight salty taste of your cum mingling in the kiss. She explores your mouth with an almost animalistic hunger, her body pressed against yours as your hands trace her back, sliding down to her hips.

You feel yourself respond again, your erection returning quickly under her touch, as if your body has been trained to react to the slightest stimulus from Hyeju. She notices instantly and smiles against your mouth, breaking the kiss to gently bite your lower lip, then sliding her tongue to your earlobe, nibbling it lightly.

"Is your dick getting hard again already?" she whispers, her breath hot against your ear. "But I barely let you rest."

You let out a sigh, somewhere between a smile and a moan, feeling the pressure in your cock build as she moves slowly over you. "You leave me no choice. With you, resting is impossible."

She chuckles softly, giving your earlobe another bite before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, her smile full of mischief. "That’s how I like it, baby."

As you try to catch your breath, your mind still spinning, a thought crosses your mind, and you let out a low, teasing giggle. "You know, Miyeon would never swallow like you did... Not even if I paid her."

Hyeju raises an eyebrow, her smile turning into something more disdainful. "Miyeon?" She laughs, throwing her head back for a moment. "That little porcelain princess? Please... Not only would she never swallow, she’d never let you come on her perfect little face."

"Yeah, she’d probably have a meltdown just thinking about the mess," you respond, laughing along.

"Exactly," Hyeju says, bringing her face close to yours again, her lips almost brushing yours. "And do you think she could survive a second with me? I’d destroy the princess."

She kisses you, more intensely this time, as if to drive her point home. Her tongue plays with yours, and you taste a mixture of challenge and possessiveness that only she can convey. As the kiss deepens, Hyeju's hand slides slowly down to your erection, which is fully hard again. She strokes your cock with a skilled touch, but without rushing things.

You let out a sigh, breathless, feeling your body respond more and more to her touch. "And I won’t even lie... Cumming on your face would be way more fun."

Her body presses a little harder against yours, and you feel the rising heat between her thighs as the friction makes you throb even harder.

"You talk about cumming on my face like it's the ultimate goal," Hyeju murmurs against your mouth, while her hand continues working your cock, her fingers gripping lightly. "But you haven’t even started to discover what I can do to you."

You moan softly, your body reacting automatically to her touch. "Oh, I’ve seen enough. And what I’ve seen... has already driven me crazy."

She smiles, biting your lip lightly once again. "Then it's time to show you more, don't you think?"

Before you have the chance to respond, Hyeju lets go of your erection and pulls back just enough to slide her hands down to her panties. With a swift motion, she pulls the fabric to the side, revealing her wet pussy, and just the sight makes you harder than you thought possible.

She positions herself over you, her panties still pushed to the side, and without hesitation, she lowers herself until the head of your cock touches her lips. Her heat and wetness are almost overwhelming, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning. Hyeju looks into your eyes, that expression of pure control on her face, as she starts to sink down slowly, taking you in inch by inch.

"Ah... fuck," you gasp, unable to hold back. Her tightness is intense, her warmth making your head spin, and the way she moves down slowly, with total control, only heightens the torment.

Hyeju bites her own lip, letting out a quiet moan as she feels you fill her. "Feels good, doesn’t it? Damn, you got my pussy so wet..."

She begins moving slowly, riding with a steady, confident rhythm, her hips undulating as she dictates the pace. The wet sound of her body meeting yours is intoxicating, and you feel your hands instinctively gripping her waist, trying to keep up, but Hyeju doesn’t allow it.

"Oh no," she says in an authoritative tone, stopping her movement and placing her hands over yours, pushing them away from her waist. "I told you I’m the one in control here. Don’t even think about rushing me."

You obey, smiling with a mix of submission and provocation. "Yes, ma'am. Who am I to argue?"

She smiles back, satisfied with your surrender. "Good boy."

She resumes her movement, gradually increasing her speed, her body sliding over you with devastating precision. Each time she sinks down, you feel her tightness intensify, her whole body vibrating with pleasure as she controls every rise and fall. The sight of her bare breasts only heightens the eroticism and anticipation.

"This... has nothing to do with Miyeon," Hyeju says, her voice slightly breathless, but still with that commanding tone. "She’d never be able to leave you like this... completely at her mercy. You know that, right?"

"You’re right," you admit. "Only you can do this to me, Hyeju.”

She smiles again, her ego swelling with your confession, and begins to ride you harder, the rhythm now faster, the movements more intense. The sound of bodies colliding fills the room, Hyeju’s moans growing louder, but she never loses control.

“That’s it, go on… feel how much you’re mine,” she murmurs, eyes closed as she sinks into the sensation, yet never relinquishing command. “Mmm, your cock goes so deep in my pussy, fuck!”

Hyeju speeds up her rhythm, her body rising and falling over you with a near-cruel precision, each movement keeping you on the edge of pleasure, but still far from release.

Suddenly, she pauses for a moment, her hips pressed firmly against yours, and with calculated calm, she reaches up to her bra strap. Her gaze locks onto yours, a challenging smile forming at the corner of her mouth. She slides the straps off her shoulders and, with a slow motion, unclasps the back. The bra falls away, revealing the breasts you’d been dying to see uncovered.

She holds them briefly, squeezing them lightly, fingers teasing her own nipples before letting out a low, provocative laugh. “Do you like them, baby?” she asks. “I know you can’t take your eyes off my tits.”

You feel your breath catch, the sight of her bare breasts swaying slightly as she keeps you trapped beneath her, mesmerizing. “Well… as a photographer I'm always observing things, and I appreciate natural beauty, if you know what I mean..”

She resumes riding you, now with a more deliberate rhythm, her free breasts moving with the sway of her hips, and you can’t look away. The pleasure builds slowly, but she knows exactly how to keep you on the brink, never letting you fall into the abyss.

It’s delicious torture.

“Go on, say it,” she whispers, eyes locked on yours. “Admit you love watching them bounce while I use you. Tell me how much you love being my toy.”

You moan in response, your whole body arching with the rising pleasure, still holding back as best you can. “Damn… I love it. You know I do.”

She smiles, satisfied, riding with more intensity now, her movements faster, her hips slamming into you with force. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, the sight driving you to the edge of desperation. She leans back slightly, planting her hands on your knees, her body displayed in all its glory, moving with complete dominance.

“That’s what I like to hear,” she murmurs, her voice breathless yet filled with authority.

You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moans threatening to escape, the pleasure building slowly but still just out of reach.

Then, she slows down, her movements becoming a tease, provoking you. With an expression of pure authority, she leans forward, her breasts swaying lightly, almost brushing your face. She grabs your chin with one hand and looks directly into your eyes.

“Suck them,” she commands, her voice low and commanding. “I want to feel your mouth on my breasts.”

No further invitation is needed. Without hesitation, you raise your head and bring your lips to her breast, capturing her nipple and sucking devotedly. The soft taste of her skin and the sensation of her so close make you even harder, if that were possible. Hyeju lets out a low moan of satisfaction as you comply, her fingers tangling in your hair, guiding your head firmly.

“Yes… just like that,” she murmurs, her tone filled with pleasure. “I knew you’d be good at this. Go on, suck harder!”

You suck on her breast with more intensity, your tongue teasing her hardened nipple, while your other hand slides up to her other breast, gently squeezing it. Hyeju’s body responds immediately, and she moans louder, pressing her breasts against your mouth as if she wants to be devoured.

“You love this, don’t you?” she whispers, her breath ragged. “You love when I tell you what to do… when I put you in your place. You love being your mistress's toy!”

You only moan in response, unwilling to release her breast, sucking with even more fervor as your hands explore her body. Hyeju laughs, pleased with your dedication, her fingers tugging at your hair as her body starts moving over your cock again, now slower but still tight enough to make you see stars.

“Yes! Keep going… don’t stop,” she orders, moaning as she moves with a calculated rhythm, her breasts still firmly caught in your mouth. “I want to feel your mouth on me while I use you.”

You feel her body tremble slightly as she rides you, and you can’t help but let out a muffled moan, your mouth full of her breast. The pleasure is overwhelming, but you know Hyeju is still in charge, and you have no choice but to follow her lead.

Hyeju keeps riding you with absurd precision, each movement designed to bring you closer to the edge, yet still far enough that she maintains absolute control. Her breathing is heavier now, but the superior smile never leaves her face.

“You know you’re mine, right?” she says, biting her lip as she speeds up her thrusts. “My toy. My slave. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for me.”

You smile back, breathless, but with that cocky look she seems to adore. “Oh, you know, Hyeju. I’d do anything you want. I don’t have a choice, not with you like this.”

She lets out a low, wicked laugh, her hips moving almost mechanically, each thrust driving you deeper, more tightly into the grip she has on you. “Of course you don’t have a choice. Because you love being used. You love when I command. When I make a fool out of you with just a look.”

You groan in response, your hands slipping along her waist, trying to keep up, but she immediately slaps them away, stopping for a second.

“No! I’m the one who moves,” she says, with that authoritative tone that makes you shiver.

You try to hold back, savoring each second of this delicious torture, but Hyeju doesn’t let you settle in for long. Suddenly, she stops moving and lets out a satisfied moan as she leans back, supporting her hands on your knees. Her body, still enveloping you, glistens with a thin layer of sweat, and the sight alone could drive anyone insane.

"Now, I want something different," she murmurs, her eyes narrowing with an idea that already seems to put you in danger. "I’m going to show you what it’s like when I really take control."

She lifts herself slowly, letting out a sigh as your cock slides out of her, and then, without warning, she turns her back to you. Her hair falls over her shoulders as she positions herself again, this time facing away, and in one smooth motion, she lowers herself down, taking you in completely.

"Oh... fuck! I love the tightness of your pussy," you groan aloud, the sight of her back, her hips swaying as she wraps around you again, the kind of torture you’d love to endure far longer than you can manage.

She begins to ride you backwards, the pace fast and relentless, and you find yourself at the mercy of her precise movements. Each time she descends, the grip of her pussy around you feels tighter, more suffocating. The sound of bodies colliding fills the room, and Hyeju lets out moans of pleasure, but you know she’s still in control, even as she’s barely holding it together.

"Now... you’re going to watch," she says, her voice breathy but full of authority. "I’m going to do whatever I want... and you'll just keep lying like this, holding on, like the good boy you are."

You try to grip her buttocks, but Hyeju won’t allow it, pushing your hands away again with a smack, harder this time. "No! I already told you... I'm the only one who can move here."

She speeds up, riding you with force and precision, and you feel on the brink of collapse, pleasure reaching an almost unbearable level. "Damn, Hyeju... you’re going to kill me like this."

She laughs aloud, glancing over her shoulder with that smug smile. "Kill you? I haven’t even started. You’re going to beg for more before I’m done."

Her hips start moving more violently, the wet sound of her body slamming against yours filling the space. The sight of her, those perfect hips, the way she rides with mastery—all of it is a reminder of how completely she dominates you. Hyeju leans slightly forward, bracing her hands on your thighs to gain more balance, and starts dictating the rhythm with unyielding strength, and you get lost in the sight of her pussy going in and out of your cock.

"Tell me, you scoundrel," she says between moans, "do you like being like this? Completely submissive? Seeing that I do whatever I want with you?"

"You know I love it," you respond with difficulty, the moans mixing with your words. "There’s nothing better than being your toy."

She smiles, satisfied, and speeds up even more, the pace now frantic. "That’s how I like it... you adoring me, serving me…" Suddenly, she pauses for a moment, and you can barely breathe from the accumulated desire. Hyeju looks over her shoulder, a mischievous smile on her face. "Now, smack my ass," she commands, her voice full of command. "I want to see if you have the guts to give me what I deserve."

Hyeju moans loudly when the sound of the first smack reverberates through the room, the shock spreading warmth through her body that seems to fuel her. She doesn’t slow down; on the contrary, with each thrust, she presses her hips harder against you, riding even harder as if the smacks were the spark missing to ignite something primal in her.

"Yes!" she shouts, eyes closed in pure pleasure. "More! Don’t stop!"

You obey, your hand finding the soft skin of her ass with a crack. The second smack is even stronger, making her whole body shake, but Hyeju only laughs through her moans, grinding on you, her hips rolling with a mastery that drives you to the brink of insanity.

"Fuck, that’s what I want!" Hyeju demands, looking over her shoulder with a smile that mixes pleasure and challenge. "Hit me harder, don’t hold back. You like seeing my ass marked, don’t you? Go on, hit harder!"

You smirk. "Begging, Hyeju? I thought you were the one in control."

"I’m the one who calls the shots here. And I’m telling you to hit harder!" Her voice is a mix of command and desire, her body moving with an intensity that makes you tremble with pleasure.

Your hand comes down with force again, the smack echoing even louder this time. Hyeju arches her back, moaning so deeply it seems she’s losing herself in her own domination. Her ass jiggles with the impact, but she keeps riding, the sound of bodies colliding louder than ever.

"Go, don’t stop!" she shouts, moving her hips like a machine, not missing a beat for a second. "I want to feel your cock and your hands at the same time! Make me feel like I’m your owner... because I am!"

You don’t hesitate, your hand striking her ass again and again, the sound of smacks mixing with Hyeju’s desperate moans. She doesn’t stop riding; every hit on her skin makes her moan louder, her breathing ragged and movements almost frenzied now. She’s in complete control, even while begging for more.

"More! It’s not enough!" she shouts, her body shaking wildly, hair flying as she rides you like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do. "Hit me until I can’t take anymore!"

You feel her body trembling around yours; each smack you deliver seems to bring her closer to an insane climax, but she doesn’t slow down. On the contrary, she grips you with an intensity that makes your head spin, the wet sounds of her pussy, the smacks and bodies colliding all you can hear.

"You’re going crazy, aren’t you?" Hyeju taunts between moans, her breath labored but her voice still firm. "I can see it on your face… Mmm, it turns me on so much that you obey me without hesitation, you're so fucking pathetic.”

"Yeah! I’d do anything for you, Hyeju."

She laughs, her satisfaction evident on her face. "I know you would. And you will. Right now."

Suddenly, Hyeju stops riding and quickly gets up, pulling your cock out of her. The emptiness is immediate and almost unbearable, but before you can protest, she turns, facing you, and deftly removes her panties and tosses them aside; without wasting any time, she climbs onto your chest, her knees braced at your sides, with that look of pure authority. Her gaze drops to your face, and you know exactly what comes next.

Hyeju doesn’t even need to speak.

"Open that fucking mouth and do as I say,” she commands, looking directly into your eyes.

She slowly lowers herself, her pulsing pussy hovering over your face, and you obey without hesitation. Your mouth finds her center of pleasure, your tongue sliding between the warm lips as you suck and lick with devotion, her taste filling your senses. Hyeju’s body trembles at the first touch, but she remains in control, pressing her hips down to force you to lick deeper.

"Ah, that... that’s how I like it," Hyeju moans, her voice filled with pleasure. "Don’t stop..."

You move your tongue with precision, exploring every part of her juicy pussy, sucking harder as your hands reach up to grab her ass, squeezing it as if it were your anchor. Hyeju moans louder, her body moving to the rhythm she dictates, grinding against your face, her moans now uninhibited.

"That’s it... keep going... Faster!" she cries, her fingers tangling in your hair, pulling your head against her as she writhes in pleasure. "You love doing this, don’t you? Say it... say you love the taste of your owner."

You try to respond, but the words get lost as you lick more intensely, your mouth fully occupied in fulfilling her every command. Hyeju laughs, pleased with your dedication, but doesn’t let up the pressure. She moves up and down on your face, grinding herself harder each time, as her body nears its climax.

"Ah, fuck... you’re perfect," she moans, breathless, her whole body trembling. "I’m going to cum... and you’re going to swallow every drop of my juice, got it? You’re going to savor your owner like never before."

You can only groan in response, your mouth trapped in the frenzy of her body. Hyeju begins to move faster, her moans becoming almost screams, her hands still gripping your hair tightly as her body trembles above you.

“Oh, fuck, I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum in your mouth! That's it! Suck my pussy, don't stop!”

She’s completely out of control, her moans filling the room as she cums in your mouth with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

"That’s it... swallow it all… fuck!" Hyeju screams, her body shaking with spasms. "Taste your owner... every drop!"

You do exactly what she wants, drinking her juice, sucking every part of her as Hyeju comes down from her climax, her movements finally slowing The taste of her pussy fills your mouth, along with the smell in your nose, and you can’t help but feel satisfaction from having brought her to this point.

Hyeju collapses beside you on the bed, her chest rising and falling quickly as she tries to catch her breath. But the smile on her face is one of pure satisfaction. Without a word, she leans over, her gaze fixed on yours, and in a slow, deliberate motion, kisses you deeply, her tongue finding yours, tasting herself in your mouth.

"Mmm... so good," Hyeju murmurs against your lips, chuckling. "That's my taste you're savoring... and I want you to never forget it. Every time you serve me, it’ll be like this... I'll reward you."

She lightly bites your lower lip, her gaze gleaming with pure mischief but also a hidden tenderness behind her control. "You did so fucking well, but there's still more. I can't get enough of using you. Now, tell me... how did it feel? I want to hear."

You take a deep breath, still recovering. "It was... damn, it was like I was in heaven and hell at the same time. And I’d do it all over again, just to see you like that."

Hyeju smiles, her gaze satisfied and possessive. "I know you would. Because you know I’m everything you need." She pauses for a moment, eyes locked on yours, before adding with a devilish smile, "If I let you, you'd spend the rest of the night licking my pussy. Confess."

Your breathing gets heavy, your fingers sliding down her back, and you can't help but respond. "Fuck, Hyeju, I'd do it all day if you wanted."

"I know you would. And that’s exactly what’s going to happen now."

She starts to move, positioning herself over you, and suddenly, you understand exactly what she wants. Hyeju lifts one leg, turning her body to face away from you, getting on her knees over your head again, but this time she leans forward, her hands already reaching for your still-hard cock. You feel her warm breath close, desire building in the air around you.

"Time for 69, baby," she murmurs, her voice both sweet and commanding. "I’m going to use you again... and you’re going to worship me like I deserve."

Without waiting for a response, Hyeju lowers her hips, pressing her pussy directly against your mouth once more, her scent consuming you. At the same time, she grips your cock with one hand, not hesitating to slide her mouth over it, sucking with that same devotion you felt before. But now, the rhythm is different—more controlled, slower, as if she’s savoring every second.

"Ah, yes... so good," she moans between sucks, her words muffled by your cock in her mouth. "You love it when I suck, don’t you? Say it!"

You try to speak, but your mouth is occupied, licking and sucking her pussy like your life depends on it. Each movement of your tongue seems to make her body tremble, and Hyeju responds by riding your face with more intensity, while her mouth moves slowly down your cock, deeper each time, reaching her throat.

She pauses for a moment, pulling your cock out of her mouth just to speak, her voice breathless. "Fuck, you're so delicious. I’ll never get tired of doing this to you... never."

Hyeju returns to sucking with more intensity, her tongue swirling around the tip, her moans blending with the wet sounds of the blowjob as you keep licking her pussy. Her legs tremble around your head, her body tensing with pleasure, but she doesn’t stop for a second. Even in the midst of an imminent climax, she keeps control, her moans getting louder but never losing that authoritative tone.

"Yes... make me come again, damn it!" Hyeju demands, her voice full of lust. "I want to feel your tongue inside me, until I come in your mouth again."

You obey, moving your tongue with more precision, sucking harder as Hyeju shivers above you. She resumes devouring your cock, sucking with an insane devotion, every movement of her mouth bringing you closer to your own climax. But you know the focus right now is her—Hyeju is in control, and she’ll make sure you know that until the last second.

Hyeju begins to lose control as the rhythm between you intensifies. The heat of her wet pussy pulses against your face, her skin growing hotter as her movements become more desperate, almost frenzied. The pleasure you give her with your tongue pushes her to a point where all her dominance blends with raw vulnerability, visible in the increasingly hoarse moans she lets out.

"Ah... fuck... yes..." Hyeju moans, her voice almost breaking as she keeps grinding against you, her legs trembling around your head. She tries to maintain control, to hold onto her dominance, but you sense that she’s on the verge of completely losing herself in the pleasure you’re giving her. "Don’t... don’t stop... make me come aga—oh fuck!"

Your tongue works with precision, every lick and suck sending Hyeju deeper into this spiral of ecstasy. She tries to keep sucking you, but her movements become uncoordinated, as if the pleasure is stripping away her ability to focus on anything but what she's feeling. Even so, she still tries, her warm mouth wrapping around your cock as her hands attempt to maintain rhythm, though it's clear she’s being overtaken by sensation.

"Ah... fuck... you... you drive me crazy..." Hyeju murmurs, her breath ragged, her moans growing louder as the pressure of her hips against your face increases. "I... I can’t... ahhh...!"

Hyeju starts grinding uncontrollably against your tongue, her movements erratic as pleasure consumes her. She tries to speak, but the words get lost in louder and louder moans, her body trembling uncontrollably. Her mouth barely manages to stay on your cock, the rhythm completely broken, with muffled moans escaping with each attempt at a suck.

"I... fuck, I’m going to come again..." she cries out, her voice loud and hoarse, almost desperate. "Don’t... don’t stop! I’m going... I’m going to come in your mouth again!"

Hyeju leans forward more, her legs trembling around your head, her body on the brink of collapsing under the weight of pleasure. You feel the exact moment when she loses all control. Hyeju’s body arches violently, her muscles contracting with incredible force, and she lets out a scream that echoes through the room as the orgasm tears through her with almost brutal intensity.

"Ahhh... fuck, fuck, fuck!" Hyeju screams, her head thrown back as her hands grip the sheets tightly. Her pussy pulses against your mouth, and you taste the hot rush of her climax on your tongue once again. Hyeju grinds uncontrollably against your face, moaning loudly as pleasure fully overtakes her.

"That’s it... swallow it all... feel me..." Hyeju commands, even as her body trembles uncontrollably. "I... I want to feel you devouring me... I need more... ahh, more!"

Her moans become almost incoherent, and you feel each shudder running through her body as she continues to come intensely, fully giving herself to the sensation. The pressure of her thighs around your head is almost suffocating, but the sound of Hyeju’s screams of pleasure, combined with her desperate movements, makes it all worth it.

She tries to stay steady, but her body gives in to the pleasure and collapses onto you, her hips still lightly moving as the aftershocks of her climax ripple through her skin. Hyeju’s mouth lets go of your cock, now forgotten as she struggles to regain control over herself.

"Fuck... that was..." Hyeju can barely form words between gasps, moans still escaping involuntarily. She leans back, slowly lifting her pussy off your mouth, her muscles still quivering, but a satisfied smile on her face.

You're breathing heavily, lungs burning as you catch your breath. Her taste still lingers on your tongue, and the memory of those last moments is seared into your mind. You take a deep breath, relieved yet wishing it hadn’t ended. The intensity of her pressure, combined with the thrill of nearly suffocating while making her climax, has left you in a nearly unbearable state of excitement.

"Wow, Hyeju... I almost came just from feeling you like that," you say with a raspy laugh, your voice still broken by the lack of air.

Hyeju, still recovering, turns to you. "Oh yeah? You almost came, did you?" She chuckles softly, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Maybe you like seeing me like this, huh? Losing control because of you."

She leans closer, hand brushing your jaw as her lips near yours, giving you a soft kiss. "But... you haven't come yet, and I'm not done playing with you."

Hyeju slowly stands, giving you a perfect view of her body, her skin glistening with sweat. You notice her gaze fixed on your hard cock, and the way she bites her lip makes it clear she already has something in mind.

"Stand up," she commands, and you obey without hesitation, feeling the anticipation build in your chest.

Hyeju turns her back to you, her perfect ass arched and inviting. Her body presses against yours in a way that’s almost suffocatingly delicious. Your hands naturally find her breasts, and you grab them firmly, feeling their weight and softness as your fingers brush her hard nipples.

"Now... pay attention, because I'm going to make you beg," Hyeju whispers, tilting her head back, the lobe of her ear brushing lightly against your lips. She slides a hand down, guiding your cock between her thighs, squeezing it between the soft, sweaty flesh. The heat of her body and the pressure of her tanned thighs make you let out an involuntary moan.

"Damn... this feels so good," you murmur, your voice coming out lower than expected, as the wet heat of her thighs envelops your cock. Every little movement she makes, slowly grinding, is a slow but delicious torture.

Hyeju starts to tease with small hip movements as she tightens you between her legs. "I know," she replies, her tone almost arrogant. "I know exactly what you like. You're trembling. Is it from wanting me so much? From being desperate to come." She squeezes more, and you moan again, feeling the pressure build as she continues to tease. "You're going to come on my thighs... and you're going to love it," Hyeju continues, moving her body with a precision that makes you see stars. Every muscle contraction around your cock brings you closer to losing control, but she doesn’t let you relax. Every time you get too close, she slows down, chuckling softly as she keeps torturing you with her body.

Your fingers tighten around her breasts, and you lean forward to kiss Hyeju’s neck, gently biting the sweaty skin, then licking; licks that melt Hyeju, tilting her neck to the side so you have full access to her delicate skin, to worship her as she deserves… All this while the feeling of being trapped between her thighs pushes you closer to madness. "Hyeju, I’ll come if you keep this up... it’s too much."

She lets out a low, teasing laugh, the sound echoing in your mind. "That's exactly what I want! I want all your load on my thighs!" She picks up the pace, her hips circling in small, precise movements.

You moan louder, starting to grind your hips frantically, pushing your cock between her thighs, brushing against Hyeju's wet pussy with a desperate fervor. The friction is maddening, each motion pulling a moan from you that echoes through the room.

"Fuck, Hyeju... I... I'm gonna come..." you murmur, words broken by pleasure as your hands slide from her breats to her hips, gripping her tightly as you rub faster, your swollen cock pressing against the lips of her pussy, each pulsating heat of contact pushing you over the edge.

"Go ahead, baby... show me how much you want me," she responds, her voice sweet yet with that underlying malice, almost daring you to lose control entirely. "Come for me... I want to feel how much you adore me."

Your body completely loses control. With each erratic thrust between her sweaty, tight thighs, you feel the pressure build to an unbearable level. Every frantic movement of your hips pulls another moan from you, a clear sign that you're teetering on the brink of no return. The soft, slippery friction of her thighs gripping your cock tightly.

"Yes, baby... I want to feel it all," Hyeju whispers with that malice, grinding relentlessly. The heat radiating from her makes your head spin. And she's loving every second of it. "I want to feel you explode. Come for me."

You moan, voice thick with desire and desperation. The rhythm of your thrusts becomes uncoordinated, desperate, as if your body has completely lost the ability to keep any cadence.

Your cock presses deeper between her thighs, sliding against the wetness already mingling with precum. Each time you feel her pussy getting closer, the pulsing heat makes you moan louder. Hyeju's pace remains relentless, her movements precise as she revels in your desperation.

“I want to feel every drop of your hot load dripping down my thighs." She tilts her head back, laughing as she senses the power she has over you, and it only heightens your urgency.

You lose the last bit of self-control. With a final thrust, your cock presses harder between Hyeju’s thighs, nearly slipping into her pussy.

"Oh, fuck Hyeju! I'm... I'm cumming!" you shout, voice overtaken by pure pleasure. The climax hits you like a violent wave, and you let out a deep moan, your whole body tensing. The orgasm slams through you with brutal force, and your hands clutch Hyeju's body tightly, holding her desperately as your cock pulses between her thighs.

Hyeju lets out a satisfied moan, squeezing her thighs around you as she feels the hot cum spill, running down her legs. "Yes... just like that, baby. Come for me. Give me everything." Her voice is low, almost a whisper, but full of control as she keeps grinding slowly, prolonging your orgasm.

You're in bliss, every fiber of your body vibrating with pleasure that feels unending. The stream of cum drips down Hyeju’s thighs, and you feel the hot wetness sliding down her sweaty skin. Your hands grip her even tighter, as if trying to anchor yourself as your world spins with overwhelming pleasure.

"Oh, baby... I can’t take anymore... My cock is so fucking sensitive," you groan, barely able to form coherent sentences as her body continues to drain you completely.

Hyeju laughs softly, pleased with the state she's left you in. "I told you I wanted every drop, didn’t I?" She squeezes her thighs one last time, pulling the last shivers from your body. "You came so hard for me baby, good job! You are such a good boy…" You let out an exhausted moan, body still trembling as the final wave of pleasure courses through you. Hyeju, satisfied, smiles and turns around. "You're done... but you liked it, didn’t you? Tell me, baby."

"Yes... yes. I loved it... you destroyed me," you reply, voice still shaking.

Hyeju leans in to give you a deep, warm kiss. Her lips press against yours with a mix of sweetness and possessiveness, as if sealing what just happened.

"I loved putting you in your place," she whispers, her thumb stroking the corner of your mouth, wiping away a bit of saliva. "Seeing you lose control like that… there’s nothing better."

You smile, still panting, your head spinning with exhaustion and pleasure. "Damn, I loved that lesson... I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good being put in my place."

She raises an eyebrow, amused, and lightly drags her nails down your back, sending a shiver that makes you flinch slightly. "Good to know you’ve learned. And the next time I'm pissed... well, I know where I'll take it out."

"Anytime you want. If you need someone to take it out on... I’m available."

Hyeju laughs, pleased with your response, and gives you another kiss. "Oh, baby, you're easy to break... and I love that.”

You're leaning against the window, taking a drag from your cigarette, watching the city below as the buildings flicker their lights like they’re laughing at your somewhat… peculiar life. The room is wrapped in a cozy dimness, and the sound of the shower turning off fills the quiet. Then, Hyeju steps out of the bathroom, wearing one of your shirts that looks more like a dress on her. You admire her as she approaches, hair still damp, her skin glowing from the hot water. She stops halfway and raises an eyebrow.

“What are you staring at?” she asks, her voice thick with exhaustion as she dries her hair with a towel.

“I’m just… happy I managed to convince you to stay,” you reply.

“Oh, really? You think you convinced me? I only stayed because I’m dead tired. Going home right now would be asking to pass out on the subway.”

She steps closer, takes the cigarette from your hand without asking, takes a long drag, and then hands it back, heading back to toss the towel in the bathroom. “And don’t think this is going to become a habit. This sleeping-together thing… it’s a one-time deal.”

“Of course, of course,” you respond, stubbing out the cigarette and moving towards the bed. “Just this once, I promise.”

She turns off the bathroom light and shuts the door, leaving the room partially dark, and as she fluffs up the pillows, you let out: “Since it’s just this once, would it be okay if I… lay on your chest?”

She looks over at you with a mix of disbelief and sarcasm. “You’re asking to use my chest as a pillow? Are you serious?”

“Completely,” you answer, lying down beside her. “They’re way softer than any pillow. A once-in-a-lifetime chance, as you said.”

“Fine, go ahead. But only because it’s the first and last time,” she accepts as she throws herself on the bed, feeling the weight of tiredness.

You cheer and kiss her cheek before turning off the lamp. With a contented sigh, you lie down next to Hyeju and rest your head on her chest, feeling a warmth and softness that puts any five-star hotel pillow to shame.

“Mmm, you’re very comfortable,” you murmur, pulling the blanket over both of you.

“Oh, shut up,” she mumbles, her hand already moving to your hair, giving you a clumsy head scratch, as though she might stop at any moment, but unable to help herself.

“That’s nice; don’t stop,” you whisper, eyes closed.

“Say it one more time, and I’ll stop,” she replies, but the scratching continues.

A pleasant silence settles over you both until, after a few minutes, Hyeju breaks the moment, suddenly asking:

“You know something?” she begins, her voice softer than before. “My chest is definitely better than Miyeon’s for sleeping, right? Just compare the sizes.”

You chuckle softly, head still buried against her. “Absolutely. No contest.”

She smiles, satisfied, letting out a small sigh of triumph. “I knew it.”

“And let me say,” you start, your voice drowsy but playful, “it’s true you lost the competition to her, but in bed… no doubt, you won.”

“Yeah, right? That’s really an honor. Too bad it doesn’t pay the bills.”

You smile, pressing a little closer to her, absorbing her warmth. “Look, after tonight, I’ll make it up to you. Next week, I’m giving an interview about the great photographers of this generation… and I’ll be sure to talk about a certain Hyeju. Praise her work and invite people to check it out, too.”

“Wow, thank you so much, Mr. Art Critic. What would I do without this boost?”

“That’s what I want to know,” you reply in a tone that’s exaggeratedly serious but teasing. “But seriously, I’m excited to work with you. I bet after spending time alone… you’ll want to work with me again.”

“Oh yeah? And if I want to punch you after two hours alone? Does that count as ‘wanting to work together again’?”

You snicker. “Hey, maybe that’s part of the creative process?”

Hyeju sighs, visibly tired but also amused by the whole thing. “Okay, now shut up. Seriously. I want to sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply, obedient but with a hint of playfulness in your voice.

The room falls silent again, but you can’t shake the need to bother her just a little more.

“Hey, Hyeju,” you say softly.

She lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

“What now?”

“Hug me tighter. Please…”

Hyeju shakes her head, incredulous, and you can almost feel her eye-rolling even without seeing it. “If you open your mouth one more time, I’ll gag you.”

You can’t resist.

“Note to self: buy a gag for Hyeju to use on me.”

She gives you a light slap on the shoulder, but in the end, her arms pull you closer, wrapping you tighter, her body relaxing against yours.

And in the quiet that follows, with only the sound of her heartbeat and gentle breathing, sleep finally begins to claim you both. There’s something about this—this way you have of bickering and laughing at the same time—that, just before drifting off, makes you realize that, in the end, maybe this will be the best partnership of your career.

And her?

Well, by the way she’s holding you, even with her tough-girl act, maybe she’s not all that bothered either.

[2pndr]

Dinner In a Winter Wonderland

Hi! This is my first ever fic! Hope you enjoy it :D

Winter x Male Reader Fluff

8.4k words (sorry)

“We’ll only agree if you guys bring along a fourth friend, ok?”

Your three friends all recited to you the conditions a “goddess” had set for the Christmas quadruple date they were dragging you into.

You sat at your desk, speechless as you scanned the pleading faces of your roommates and long-time friends, stunned by their brazen appeals to you. It was probably that last sentence that bamboozled you the most though. Sure you were the closest to them, but it’s not like they were short on other friends. Why did you of all people have to come along?

“Why me of all people?” you asked again, this time out loud.

“Well, apparently, they have a you in their friend group too,” one of your friends began.

“A me?” you scoffed.

“Yeah, a you,” he continued. “Y’know, a stubborn, reclusive homebody who needs to be dragged out of their room every time their friends wanna hang out. All because they enjoy their ‘me time’ a little too much,” he joked, perhaps a bit too accurately imitating your increasingly weak excuses to leave the dorm.

“Ha, ha,” you mocked.

“No seriously! Apparently, her name’s Winter.”

“Winter?” You stifled a snicker. “Like the season? That’s her real name?”

“I mean, that’s what they told us,” your friend replied with a shrug. “Who cares? It’s kinda cute.”

You silently agreed, hiding a smirk as to not concede that your interest was piqued. “So let me get this straight,” you began, folding your arms in an attempt to appear unfazed. “The only reason I’m being dragged along is because you guys need someone to pair up with some girl who—what?—shares my hate for leaving the house? The hell’s in this for me?” You asked, feigning anger.

“Dude, it’ll be a perfect match!” another friend enticed, desperately trying to paint the situation in an appealing light. “You both don’t like leaving your rooms, you both hate meeting new people. It’s like the universe is aligning for you two to meet.”

Did he even realise the irony of that sentence?

“C'mon man, spending Christmas alone in your room three years in a row is some of the saddest shit I’ve ever seen,” The first one remarked.

Well he wasn’t wrong, but you couldn’t let him get any ground.

“Some people can’t help it,” You retorted.

“Well those people probably don’t have a chance to go out with the most attractive women they’ll ever see.”

You scowled, about to add fuel to the fire before your third friend cut you off.

“Think about it,” he chimed in, shifting the conversation away from an argument. “If she’s anything like you, she’ll probably want this whole thing over with as fast as you do.”

“Uh, huh…” You leaned back in your chair, tamed, but staring at the ceiling unconvinced. A girl like you? With how active the rest of the campus was, you found it hard to believe there was actually someone out there like you—someone cynical and uncomfortable with social gatherings of any form. 

To be clear, you didn't have poor social skills—in fact, you’d argue you had a certain way with words—you just avoided any chance to use them. You had a knack in discerning the smallest shift in someone’s expression, adjusting your tone, words and body language to suit.

But that knack was often overshadowed by an unshakable urge to assess, to weigh every syllable and gesture, scanning for the faintest sign of discomfort or misinterpretation.

This hyperawareness turned into a road-block for any conversation. Instead of letting the flow guide you, you’d find yourself scrutinising every word you said the instant it left your mouth, wondering if it had landed right, if it was too much or too little, or if you’d somehow veered into awkward territory.

The more you tried to keep things smooth, the more you’d find yourself caught in these spirals of self-correction, only to create the very awkwardness you’d been trying to avoid. 

So in the rare case you did end up at a social event, it was like you were playing a part. You stuck to the same few openings, the same practised routes for small talk.

There was nothing organic or genuine about the performance, nothing personal or meaningful. It was merely for show—a facade to keep up appearances.

It was all exhausting, and that’s what you had reiterated to your friends time and time again.

Regardless of your scepticism though, a strange part of you was actually a little curious. Not about the date itself—no, that was still a nightmare—but about this mysterious girl who apparently shared your introversions.

“Look, all we’re asking for is one night,” one pleaded, hands glued together as if he was in prayer. “One night! Just hang out with her for a couple hours while we chat up her friends, and you never have to do this again. You don’t have to see her again, talk to her again or anyone else if we ever ask.  We’ll owe you big time.”

“Seriously dude, we’ll pitch in for the PS5 Pro or something!” another added in further pleas.

You let out a long sigh, staring this time down at your desk. Not in a million years would you even consider buying that atrocious excuse for a cash grab, but the sentiment of your friends owing you that colossal amount was admittedly tempting.

And then there was this Winter girl. The one who was apparently as much of a hermit as you were. You couldn’t ignore that meeting her was happening during Christmas, the very time of year you tried to avoid going out the most. But you almost couldn’t help but wonder what kind of person she was, if she really was as closeted as you or just some exaggerated myth your friends had conjured up to lure you out.

It shouldn’t have, but just the idea of her tickled something deep in your brain, flooding your subconscious with various guesses of her character. 

Your mind conjured up an amalgamation of the most attractive women you had seen throughout your life; famous actresses and idols, the cute barista at the Starbucks down the road, that one girl at the airport who caught your eye but you never ended up talking to.  Their looks, personalities, whatever alluring details you could recall were being melted together and forged into what became your own expectation of Winter. 

You imagined a stunning slim and quiet girl—that much was obvious—with milky white hair, and fair complexion. They were traits all befitting of a girl named Winter. But in your mind something about her attitude, her facial expressions… they radiated… cold. It wasn’t unlike how you appeared to strangers—irrationally concealing your timid fear of interaction with a stiff stare and an emotionless face. As  you considered how similar your vision of her felt to you, it was strangely… warm…familiar. 

Within a matter of seconds, your apprehension had transformed to a hesitant desire to meet her. Or rather, this idea of her you had thrown together. 

You sat in a long silence, wrestling with your inner turmoil—your shameful, uncharacteristic urge to discover the truth about this girl. 

Seriously man? You asked yourself. There’s no way in hell she’d look anything like that if she was anything like you. 

Your asshole of a subconscious did have a point. 

But something about this tugged at you in a way you couldn’t help but notice. If this girl was like you, really like you, you had to know.

 “Alright,” you eventually grumbled, putting a hand over your face to suppress the oncoming wave of regret already washing over you. “I’ll go.”

Your friends erupted in cheers, high-fiving and dapping each other up like they had just won themselves a date with the hottest girls on campu–Oh.

“YES! You’re the man!” one of them yelled, giving you a ‘pat’ on the back that almost knocked you out of your chair.

"You won’t regret this!" another exclaimed, jabbing a finger toward you, though deep down, you already kind of did.

“FUCK YEAH!” the last one punched to the sky. “We owe you man,” smiling from ear-to-ear as cheers followed him out of your room.

As you hastily cleared the other two from your territory, you felt the dread settling in. One night, that’s all it was, you told yourself. Just one night with this girl named Winter, who was probably as opposed to this as you were.

What’s the worst that could happen?

---

Before you knew it, you were in your friend’s car, dressed in your Sunday’s best—which, admittedly, was a hastily thrown together fusion of your roommates’ closets.

An attempt had been made to make your less than desirable features appear at least mildly presentable to the outside world. Your hair had been styled with some expensive hair product you could barely pronounce, your caveman scent obscured by some B-list celebrity’s cologne, and your abhorrent posture—honed through years of agonising abuse to your spine—was being corrected by your friends’ frustrated hands what felt like every other second. 

They had half-jokingly, half-100%-seriously subjected you to some correction exercises over the past few days, few of which you actually bothered to attempt. Obviously, the few you had tried didn’t work, as your friend had stopped bothering to correct your posture himself, instead resorting to giving you a stinging slap every time your spine inevitably slumped from upright.

 The swelling of the handprint forming on your back had charitably distracted you from the metric-shit ton of adrenaline coursing through your veins. It caused your breathing to grow heavy and your heart to feel it was going to burst from your chest. A couple sleepless nights and a few too many hours of staring blankly at your PC monitor had transformed your strange curiosity for meeting Winter back into dread. 

You had moronically forgotten you actually had to talk to this girl for a couple hours instead of just confirming if she was similar to you.

Either you forced some kind of pitiful attempt at conversation with her—risking major embarrassment—or both of you succumb to sitting in introverted silence. 

Even if you could properly wrestle with overusing your little talent, the fact was, any attraction whatsoever to a girl caused you to fold like a cheap suit, rendering your ability useless. If Winter was any bit as alluring as your mind made her out to be it would be more than disastrous for you. It would be like every ounce of composure was swapped out for a hyperactive inner monologue—one that left you stumbling over your own thoughts.

As your friend’s car hummed along the bustling holiday streets, your mind continued to spin in overdrive almost as quickly as the neon red and green of the city's Christmas ornaments seemed to appear and disappear all around you. You aimed  to avoid risking any conversation that led to your humiliation, desperately mapping out the possible routes for conversation. This process was standard yet exhaustive at this point—your own RPG dialogue tree being mapped out in your mind.

"Hey, nice to meet you. How’s it going?"

"Fine."

[ No further options.]

You could already feel the weight of the dead-end conversation dragging the both of you down. That wasn’t going to work.

“So, what kind of stuff are you into?"

"Not much."

 [FAILED: Charisma check too low.]

Your mind projected you staring at the ceiling, desperately trying to find something, anything, to say while Winter twiddled her thumbs, wondering out loud with a groan,“Why did I even bother to show up.”

 What the fuck brain? That wasn’t helping your confidence at all.

“Hey, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

"Yeah, same."

[Neutral response. Proceed carefully.]

This felt promising. You could try pushing deeper, maybe ask a follow-up question, but you could already feel how you would screw it all up—one wrong word, one wrong look and kaput.

How about…

[Say Nothing.]

[No response.]

Yeah, that’s probably how it’s gonna go.

The car hit a bump in the road, and so did your only shred of confidence in this turning out well. You sighed quietly to yourself, senselessly running through these hypothetical scenarios in your head, frantically searching for the “good” dialogue option that simply wasn’t available to you.

There was no save scumming in real life, no charisma stat to help you bluff and charm your way through the whole thing, no getting lucky with your dice rolls either. It was just your limited social ability, a few thinly veiled attempts at small talk, and the faint hope that Winter might somehow be interested in having a conversation. It all reminded you why you avoided these kinds of situations in the first place…

You suck at them.

What felt like eternity with your own thoughts was soon interrupted as the car pulled up to the curb. You noticed the Christmas themed sign of the barbeque restaurant in the evening dusk. You stared at it, utterly terrified like it was signalling the entrance to some twisted version of hell—a place where your date, crowds of people, and the inevitable crushing embarrassment of being out of your element awaited—your hell. 

Your friends on the other hand were already pumped, talking over each other in excitement as they recounted for the hundredth time just how hot these girls they scored were. Meanwhile, you were still stuck somewhere between resignation and panic.

Their voices blended into background noise—drowned out by the mental gymnastics you were performing to figure out how to survive the next couple of hours. You hadn’t even walked into the restaurant yet, and you already felt like retreating into the comforting embrace of your bed sheets back home.

As you resolved to follow your friends inside you were instantly hit by a wall of warmth, thick with the smell of grilling meat and the hum of lively holiday celebrants. The restaurant was buzzing—waiters weaving between tables, the sizzling of meats echoing from grills, and laughter rippling across the room like a contagious wave. Already the ‘energy’ in here was too much for you, prompting you to  take a moment to adjust the atmosphere—all while your friends strode in like they owned the place. 

This was the kind of scene you’d typically steer clear of: crowded, chaotic, and packed with people who simply enjoyed the presence of others. The holiday season did nothing to ease your anxiety, doing its part to gather everyone together by filling every seat in the restaurant. You shoved your hands into the unfamiliar pockets of the jacket your friends threw on you, hyper aware of how out of place you felt.

 Your friends were greeted with warm smiles from the hostess—predictably, since they looked like they had just stepped off of the cover of Vogue magazine. Meanwhile, you were certain you looked like you’d rather be anywhere else.

She led you all to a private booth which was, thankfully, designated its own corner far away from the rest of the vivacious dynamic of the restaurant’s other patrons. Your relief didn’t last long though, as your heart leapt into your throat when you spotted four girls already sitting there. Three of them stood up to greet you, all endearing smiles, waves and the obligatory “Merry Christmas.”

Your fear was instantly frayed as the first girl began her introduction. Her name was Karina, and you were taken aback at how uncannily beautiful she was. In fact, it was almost unsettling how flawless she looked. It was like she had been engineered in a lab or generated by some AI algorithm designed to create the perfect face. Everything, right down to her sharp profile and unnaturally smooth skin was other-wordly perfect. A small mole dotted the edge of her chin, like an anchor tethering her otherwise impossibly symmetrical features to reality. She greeted your friends with a poised smile, but there was something behind her eyes—sharp, calculating, and trained on you—like she was sizing you up in particular.

But your mind paid that no attention as the next beauty introduced herself as Giselle—Her confident demeanour being the highlight for you. She moved with an ease that gave the impression she wasn’t fazed by anything or anyone. Her posture was relaxed, yet somehow commanding, exuding an energy that screamed, I’m hot, and I fuckin’ know it. The assertive eye contact she made with each of you as she introduced herself caused you to shrink back, almost out of respect for her authority. In contrast, her voice was steady and warm, but her eyes flicked back to Karina’s every so often, like the two of them were communicating without saying a word.

Then there was Ning Ning, who practically radiated excitement. Her lips curved into a smile that was bright and infectious, the kind that lit up her entire face. She greeted you all with a playful wave that bordered on adorable. Yet there was a switch in her—something in the way her expression shifted mid-conversation from lively and sweet to striking confidence—which could flip in an instant. She seemed to live in the moment though, completely detached from whatever silent exchange was happening between the other two. It was hard to tell if Ning Ning was more girl-next-door or temptress, and that fluidity made her all the more intriguing.

Your friends weren’t exaggerating. Each of them was stunning in their own way—like the kind of women you’d expect to see gracing the pages of a high-fashion magazine or as models strutting down a runway.

Yet, you couldn't help but notice the girl still seated at the inner end of the table, toying with her sleeves as the soft glow of her phone lit her face. Winter, you assumed. She didn’t stand, didn’t do so much as glance briefly at the four of you. But even in her stillness, she drew your attention. Her beauty wasn’t like Karina’s polished perfection or Giselle’s self-assured allure and most definitely not like Ning Ning’s bubbly charm. Winter appeared different—there was something so fundamentally distinct about her that interested you, piqued your curiosity when you thought you were infallible to such feelings. Regardless of what you heard about her, you found yourself encapsulated by nothing but her sheer beauty. 

As your eyes lingered on her you didn’t feel like you were looking at a person. Instead it was as if you were gazing upon the natural landmark of a frost-covered landscape—pure, serene, and silently breathtaking. It was as if she belonged more to the cold elegance of nature than to the warmth of human company. Her presence was subtle yet striking, like the clear, crisp air on a winter morning. The restaurant's soft, amber light caught her pale complexion in a way that made her seem almost ethereal, yet still grounded. Her silvery-white hair cascaded around her face like freshly fallen snow, soft and shimmering, as if her namesake itself had carefully crafted each strand to highlight her delicate features. Somehow, Winter lived up to that paradoxically beautiful expectation you had envisioned, but seeing her in person gave the impression she transcended it.

You stumbled through your own introduction to the rest of the girls, utterly captivated by what most people would consider a bad display of manners. Anybody in your shoes would have had their eyes glued to the trio of goddesses standing before you, but you could barely spare them a second—alright, a third glance. 

Predictably, the small talk that followed didn’t include you. Your friends however—more eager than you’ve ever seen them—quickly launched into banter with Karina, Giselle, and Ning Ning. Normally you would be in awe of how easy they made the whole thing look, but you could only half-listen, your thoughts and eyes constantly drifting toward Winter, who remained seated quietly at the end of the booth.

Eventually, Karina offered you all to sit, prompting one of your friends to shove you along to your side of the table. The little collision knocked you out of the fugue-like state you were in, drawing a quiet cry that caused laughter to erupt around you. Quickly realising that you’d be facing Winter, you hesitantly sat down, your eyes flicking back to her every now and then.

When she finally glanced your way, there was a brief pause, her cool eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, you were caught, held in the silence between you. Her gaze was steady, unwavering, but a hint of vulnerability showed itself as she studied you. Before you knew it, you were staring—completely absorbed by the depth in her eyes. They weren’t just cold or distant as you first thought—they were calm, almost reflective, like a still lake that hid something beneath its surface. The more you looked, the harder it became to pull yourself away.

Seconds passed—maybe more—and you didn’t even realise how long you’d been holding her gaze until your heart gave a sudden jolt, reminding you that you were looking at a person and not nature’s pièce de résistance. Embarrassment shot through you as you quickly broke eye contact, feeling a heat crawl up your neck.

“Winter, right?” Your voice came out much too casual, completely betraying the fact that you were just caught staring at her like an absolute buffoon. How did you already manage to mess this up?

Winter tilted her head ever so slightly, a small flicker of amusement ghosting over her lips before she nodded. She blinked more than once, her lashes fluttering to mask brief hesitation. Her gaze softened just slightly. “Yeah,” she replied simply. Her voice was soft, but clear. There was no hint of awkwardness or hesitation, but the slight shift in her posture, the way her fingers brushed the sleeve of her shirt said otherwise.

You nodded, you’d only asked one question and you already felt like your dialogue options were exhausted. But on the bright side, the mere fact she replied meant things were already going better than they did in your head.

The silence between you both stretched for a beat, then another. Neither of you spoke, but remarkably it felt like the words were there, waiting to be said. Winter’s fingers continued nervously with her sleeve, brushing the fabric in small, rhythmic strokes, while you found yourself looking at empty plates, the table—anything but her. Both of you seemed unsure of what to say next, letting you confidently conclude that she was indeed as nervous as you. You noticed her lips parting as if to speak, only to close again after a moment of hesitation. 

A few more seconds passed before you both spoke at once.

“So—”

“Did you—”

You stopped mid-sentence, catching her eye before you let out a quiet, awkward chuckle. “Uh, sorry. You go first.”

Winter looked down briefly, as if gathering herself. When she lifted her gaze again, there was a softness in her eyes, and a hint of vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. Her thumb brushed the edge of the table, tracing it gently as she glanced back at you. “They had to bribe you too?” She asked timidly, lightly gesturing to your friends who were engrossed with hers.

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, you could say that. It’s a whole mess, isn’t it?”

Winter nodded, her own smile flickering into existence, delicate but brief. Her voice softened as she admitted, ”These three promised me free food for a week just to get me to show up.” Winter scrunched her face, slanting her eyebrows in an attempt to scowl at them, but failed miserably, producing an adorable pout that was more endearing than anything else.

Your heart may as well have melted right there. 

You laughed softly, buying yourself time to regain your composure. From afar, she was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, but up close? When that cold, hard exterior began to fade, she doubled as the cutest too.

Your little chuckle successfully let you continue the eerily natural flow the two of you had going. “Mine offered to chip in for a game console.”

“So that’s what got you, huh?” Her eyes brightened with amusement, and for the first time, you saw her smile linger just a little longer. It wasn’t just her smile though. A slight accent softened the edges of her naturally sweet tone. Everything she said felt so easy on the ears, so digestible, and you—despite your scepticism and bitterness towards being here—found yourself hungry for more. Your friends would have called you a hypocrite, but in your defence, they both contributed to this perfect image that sat opposite you. You couldn't help but think it was the cutest sight you’d ever seen. 

Perhaps that’s what gave you the strength to say this next part.

“Well not exactly…” You trailed off, breaking eye contact as your fingers fidgeted nervously under the table. 

Winter tilted her head slightly, raising an eyebrow in anticipation like a puppy awaiting a command. God, how was everything she did so adorable?

You leaned in, still avoiding her gaze and turned your head slightly toward the wall, hoping the others wouldn’t overhear what you were about to say.

“I was uh…” You began, almost a whisper as the words struggled to leave your suddenly dry mouth.

This time Winter leaned in, meeting you at a distance a little too close for comfort.

“I was curious about you…”

Your words were like bullets, creating an embarrassing recoil that sent you hurtling back into the headrest, your gaze pointing straight down as a crimson flush seized the skin of your cheeks.

Your friends would have scoffed at how trivial that whole exchange seemed, all the while you felt like a timid middle schooler confessing to his crush. You managed to baffle yourself with your boldness, not daring to look up and see Winter’s reaction.

To your further surprise, your little self-conscious introspection was interrupted by a giggle. Not just any giggle. Winter’s giggle.

You looked up to meet her face—equally as rosy as yours. But in place of your distraught expression was Winter, giggling like a child on a sugar-high. Her laughter was light and melodic, bubbling up like it couldn’t be contained. She leant back covering her open mouth with her hand. Her whole face had lit up, it was the kind of laugh that crinkled her eyes and shook her shoulders ever so slightly. It wasn’t just the sound, though—it was the way she smiled from ear to ear, so unguarded and genuine, a welcome contrast to the shy and distant she showed otherwise.

You lied earlier. This was the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

At first, you were confused by her sudden outburst, but as the infectious warmth of her laughter sunk in, a mutual smile spread across your face. The tension you’d been holding onto for several days seemed to melt away with each lingering note of her laugh. You honestly had no idea what she found so funny, but in the moment, you were just happy to go along with it, confident that you were doing at least something right.

Your friends, noticing her giggling, shared amused glances but didn’t interrupt. From the way they were staring, they were just as surprised as you were at how well this was going. They all held an expression that confessed we didn’t know you had it in you.

Ning Ning too giggled under her breath, playfully nudging Giselle. “Look at that—actual progress,” she muttered teasingly, her tone dripping with mock disbelief.

Karina though, was different. She subtly monitored the interaction, her sharp gaze softened now, intrigued by how Winter was opening up. It felt like she approved though, commending you in getting Winter out of her shell. She stayed silent though, still content to just observe.

Winter’s adorable outburst slowly ebbed, her shoulders still shaking slightly as she tried to catch her breath. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, an adorable mix of bashfulness and amusement colouring her features.

“So…” she began meekly, eyes flickering down before meeting yours again. “Do I live up to your expectations?” Her tone was soft, tentative, as if she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer.

You were caught off guard by Winter’s own intrepid addition to your conversation, feeling your face heat up as you struggled to find the right words. 

I—well…” You exhaled, trying to pull together the honesty that was suddenly a challenge to articulate in her presence. “You’re not what I expected,” you admitted, a gentle smile finding its way onto your face. “I don’t think I could’ve pictured someone quite like you, even if I’d tried.” 

The sudden spark of vulnerability in Winter’s expression tugged at something in you. You realised your answer might’ve sounded too cryptic, maybe even evasive. The faint quiver of her brow and roll of her Adam's apple told you she wasn’t sure how to take that.

You cleared your throat, glancing up at her cautiously as you explained, “I mean that in a good way!” Winter had a beauty that seemed too obvious, too stunning to need validation, yet you couldn’t help but want to say it aloud. “I thought you’d be stunning and well…you are.” Winter turned away sharply, hiding her flushing face with a hand. “I just thought that you’d be a lot more.. distant. But meeting you here, seeing you laugh and smile…” you were thinking of an eloquent way to put this, but you found yourself beholden to the truth right now. 

Winter was having this… effect on you. You weren’t one to ‘open up’ or ‘talk about their feelings’ and yet you felt compelled to here. “Seeing you laugh and smile… I can’t help but think it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” You had no idea where this newfound confidence was coming from, but you had a sneaking suspicion it was spurred on from what you’d just described.

Winter’s cheeks deepened from a soft pink to a vibrant flush, and she let out a shaky breath. Her fingers lingered over her features, like she was trying to shield herself from the intensity of the moment. Her eyes darted back to you and the delicate gleam in her gaze made your heart skip. 

“Really?” she murmured, her voice barely audible, as though she feared saying anything louder might shatter the fragile honesty between you. She dropped her hand from her coloured cheeks, her eyes tracing your face for confirmation. “You really think that?”

You nodded, the sincerity in your gaze unwavering. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” You chuckled softly, hoping to lighten the air. 

Winter’s shoulders began to relax, she herself not realising that they were glued to her neck. Her face remained flushed, but the tightness in her posture had vanished, leaving her more relaxed and open in how she sat.

“Thank you…” she let out. Her voice remained soft, but they certainly carried more weight.

“I’ll admit I’m surprised too…” She hesitated, glancing away, lips curving into a soft smile. “I thought you’d be just like everyone else…” You listened attentively, holding her gaze while she spoke tenderly, honestly.

“So I didn’t expect you to be…well, this easy to talk to,” she admitted, rubbing up her arm. “You don’t feel like everyone else, all practised lines and smooth talking,” she let out a faint chuckle. “ You make mistakes, you slip up. You’re like me. And um… cute too.” It was your turn to look away, your own cheeks starting to heat up. “So there’s something really nice about that...”

 You pinched yourself under the table. This was going too well for you. This had to be a dream.

“I’m glad you think that,” you told her with a smile. Your voice was lower and steadier than you’d expected, though a trace of disbelief lingered beneath your words. Because, truthfully, you could never have imagined this going so well—not in a million lifetimes. 

To your absolute delight, Winter sent you another wide smile. You didn’t think it could get much wider, but somehow she pulled it off.

You hadn’t realised it till she brought it up, but with Winter, you didn’t need to use those memorised openers or routes. She enticed you in such a way that just encouraged you to just… be you. Everywhere else you went you always felt an expectation to act like everyone else, to sound like them. But in the short time you’ve been around Winter, you hadn’t felt that at all. Was it because you two were similar? 

“So,” You began, searching for your answer. “I take it you’re not a big fan of all this?” You gestured to the six other residents of the table, and by extension the rest of the restaurant.

Winter raised an eyebrow, leaning back into her chair.  She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs under the table, almost like she was trying to ground herself. “More or less. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate people... I just like my space, y’know? Too much noise, too many people... it feels like I’m in the wrong place.” She paused, glancing briefly at the rest of the table. “But you get it, right?”

“More than I care to admit,” you replied with a sigh, feeling some strange sense of relief wash over you. “It’s exhausting. I never know what to say, or how to keep up.”

Winter’s lips curved upward again, knowingly. She seemed to relax even more, sinking into the conversation as much as she did her seat. "Exactly. It always feels like everyone has these… scripts. Like they know exactly what to say and when to say it." She gestured lightly toward your friends, still engrossed in their own lively conversations. "But it’s… difficult. It’s all tiring,” She confessed with a little pout. “It doesn't feel natural or genuine to me, it feels like I'm… like I'm…”

“Like you’re playing a character,” you finished, taking the words right out of her mouth.

Her eyes widened a fraction, a glimmer of recognition passing through them. “Exactly!” she rejoiced. A quiet laugh escaped her, one that sounded relieved. “All our friends can happily be themselves, but we’re stuck acting like someone else.”

As Winter continued, you noticed a subtle shift in the way she spoke. It wasn’t just about her anymore—she was talking about the both of you. There was something comforting about the fact that she felt like you were in this together, like she saw a bit of herself in you. You weren’t just sharing a conversation anymore—it was an understanding. 

You nodded, staring into her opulent orbs as if she were a reflection of yourself.

But before either of you could say more, Karina’s voice cut through the air, pulling you both back into reality.

“Hey, are you two lovebirds ready to order?” she teased.

You blinked and glanced around, realising that everyone else had been staring at you—impatient, but knowing smiles all around. Even the waiter at the head of your table, pen poised and all, gave you a subtle, approving nod. 

“Oh, uh…” You stammered, feeling a rush of heat crawl up your neck. You turned to glance at Winter, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you. Her eyes, wide and glimmering, were so close that you could see the subtle flecks of silver and blue swirling within them. The space between you was almost nonexistent; you were close enough that you could feel the warmth of her breath, your noses almost grazing. Wait, what? The realisation hit you both at once, and in an instant, you jolted back into your seat, wide-eyed and startled, your heart pounding from the unexpected proximity.

Winter did the same, recoiling sharply and causing a small tremble in the table. Her face flushed a deep, rosy pink, the sudden burst of colour creeping from her cheeks down to her neck. 

“I’ll have the—”

“Could I have—”

 You both started at once, then stopped, exchanging an awkward, embarrassed laugh. You gave a little nod, gesturing for her to go first. 

“ I’ll have the…” 

Winter’s voice trailed off as she scanned the menu in a hurry, cheeks still rosy. She managed to mumble her order, then you fumbled your way through yours right after, both of you clearly rattled but trying to play it cool.

As the waiter left the table, a heavy silence settled over you and Winter. The energy from before—where genuine laughter and soft words had filled the space between you two—seemed to have dissipated. Now, you found yourself unable to speak, the memory of that fleeting, close encounter hanging thickly in the air, making it difficult to breathe. It rendered thinking of something to say practically impossible.

You glanced at Winter, only to find her just as quiet. She was staring at the menu again, though you knew she wasn’t really reading it. Her fingers brushed along the page absentmindedly, putting in no effort whatsoever to make her rapid flicking believable. Every so often, her eyes would dart toward you, only to quickly return to the menu the second she thought you might notice.

Despite the tension, a sense of relief came over you. The silence gave you an opportunity to collect yourself, to push back the storm of emotions swirling around inside you. You sank a little further into your chair, quietly thankful for the momentary ceasefire. 

Your mind wandered to all those couples who roamed the city streets—it was the bitter truth that you wouldn’t fit in as one of them. The way you’d always seen yourself didn’t align with how those people acted: smiling and talking for what felt like forever. For years on end you considered yourself emotionally unavailable, selfish with any time you had.  Yet, here you were, sitting across from Winter, someone who was...different. Someone who made you feel like, maybe—just maybe—you were capable of being one of those couples.

You shook your head slightly, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came. No, that kind of thing didn’t happen to people like you. You were reading too much into it, weren’t you? It had to be just the heat of the moment, the proximity playing tricks on your mind. The sincerity in her gaze, the warmth of her breath—it was just...well, it was nothing, really.

But then why was your heart still racing?

Winter shifted slightly in her seat, her eyes still trained on the menu. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but stopped herself, the words catching before they had a chance to escape. You could almost feel her nerves mirrored in your own chest.

You too thought about saying something—anything—to break the silence, but every possible word felt clumsy in your mind. You were far too embarrassed to speak up, but at the same time, you wanted to recover the soft energy that radiated between the two of you—the thrill of a conversation where you felt at ease, where you could be you. 

"Sorry, about… uh, that," you forced out, sending her a sheepish smile. “I didn’t mean to make things weird.” There was no reason for you to take responsibility, but you assumed it would ease her if she was absolved of fault. After all, it would have eased you.

Winter shook her head quickly, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “Trust me, if anyone made things weird, it was me.” You couldn't help but laugh—she was trying to do the exact same thing.

“Don’t worry about it, Winter,” you assured, her name slipping out instinctively.

There was a shift in her posture as her name escaped your lips, subtle but noticeable. She uncrossed her legs under the table and leaned forward ever so slightly, her fingers nervously playing with the edge of her sleeve again. She seemed on the verge of saying something important. You could sense it in the way she glanced at you—anxious eyes, cheeks flushing scarlet.

Her lips pressed together for a moment, then softened as if she’d finally made up her mind. Her eyes met yours, letting you peer into that reflective lake once again. But this time, you could almost make out what was below— she was letting down a wall, one you’d wager few have ever seen behind.

 She took a breath, her chest rising and falling with a quiet resolve, and then, in almost a whisper she spoke.

 “Please. Call me Minjeong.” 

The simplicity of the words didn’t match the weight they carried. There was something so incredibly personal in her request, something that felt like a secret being shared between just the two of you. Her gaze stayed locked on yours, as if waiting to see how you’d react, her vulnerability laid bare.

“M-Minjeong,” you stuttered delicately, the name feeling both foreign and intimate on your tongue, like you were stepping into a space no one else had been invited to. 

Minjeong’s expression softened even more, a glimmer of relief flashing across her eyes. She let out a breath, one she seemed to have been holding in anticipation of your response. A curve played across her lips. It was pure, unguarded. You almost could see the warmth radiating off of her, like this simple act of you saying her name had drawn you two closer.

“I— I like the way you say it,” she confessed quietly.  Her voice was shy, as if she wasn’t used to hearing her own name spoken aloud.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry, unsure of how to respond but feeling the gravity of the moment pull you deeper into her orbit. The vulnerability in her tone, the way her eyes softened when she looked at you, made everything feel so surreal. You had no idea what to say next, your mind scrambling for the right words, but none seemed enough.

Multiple pairs of eyes fell on you from around the table, but neither you nor Minjeong were in the right state to acknowledge it. As far as you were both concerned, you two were the only people on Earth right now.

Before you could manage a reply, Minjeong spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “Most people just call me Winter. It’s easier for me… less personal.” She glanced down at the table, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the edge of her sleeve. “But I dunno…” She trailed off. “Minjeong feels right with you.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and meaningful, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were seeing something fragile. It was like she was giving you a piece of herself, trusting you to hold it gently.

“Minjeong,” you repeated, this time more certain. “It’s a beautiful name.”

She met your gaze again, her eyes shining with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “Thanks,” she murmured, a shy smile tugging at her lips, but this time, there was no hesitation in the way she looked at you. No walls, no pretence. Just Minjeong, in all her quiet, ethereal beauty.

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest, the kind you hadn’t experienced in years. It was like being a teen again, that rush of excitement and nervous energy coursing through you—the way it used to when you’d catch your crush’s eye across the room and feel your heart race. But this was different—it was deeper. As you sat there, looking at Minjeong, you realised it wasn’t just her beauty or the way she had let you in. It was the feeling she stirred in you, something you thought you’d long forgotten. She wasn’t just someone who caught your eye—she made you feel alive again. Like you were rediscovering that fluttery, intoxicating rush from your youth, but unlike then it wasn’t fleeting. There was a quality to it that you just couldn’t articulate—your years of social isolation, your unending cynicism towards basic human emotion left you that way. 

But you tried, tried to put a label on this unfamiliar feeling. You searched your mind for a word, a description, anything that could encompass what was building in your chest, but nothing came close. It was a bewildering sensation that refused to fit into the neat definitions you knew.

The tension in your mind dissipated the moment the waiter brought the food, and you watched as everyone’s attention turned to their meals. The table filled with idle chatter and silverware scraping against plates, grounding you back to the present. You took a steadying breath, grateful for the pause and the warmth of the meal as it cut through the delicate web that had woven itself between you and Minjeong.

Still, you couldn’t help but notice her in the little pauses and movements—the way her eyes sparkled with each glance around the table, her small, quiet smile at each bite. Even now, Minjeong’s presence felt magnetic, she occupied her space without demanding it, a rare grace that felt refreshing. Each time she looked up, she met your eyes with a soft, almost bashful smile that sent an echo of warmth through you. It made you want to reach out, to learn more, to let her know how much she’d already begun to matter to you.

The conversation around the table grew louder, but your own exchange with Minjeong stayed quiet and gentle. You spoke in low tones, sharing snippets about each other’s lives. Every glance, every subtle word between you seemed to deepen the quiet understanding you shared. Gone was your lacking composure, the insatiable need to assess and please. Your exchange with Minjeong felt like a safe space, a judgement-free zone to be yourself in public. You’d explain to her all your nerdy hobbies, and she would listen with genuine attentiveness, her eyes adorably lighting up when you’d find something else in common. In return, you found yourself hanging onto every word she offered back, falling deeper and deeper into the conversation as she opened herself up to you

And when there were lulls—as there inevitably were between introverts such as the two of you—you both found comfort even in the silence. It was strange, feeling so drawn to someone you had known for only a few hours. The part of you that usually resisted connections seemed to fall silent in her presence. And as she leaned in closer to share an amused thought, her fingers playing absently at the edge of her napkin, you felt something within you shift.

What was this feeling, exactly? You had tried to put it into words, only to come up empty. You were someone who could gauge how a person was feeling from body language alone, like you could measure and judge everything they felt. But when it came to yourself—your feelings, your emotions—you came up short. 

But as the evening wore on and the rest of the table grew quieter, you found yourself looking at Minjeong with a soft certainty. From the way Minjeong looked at you, you got the impression she was struggling with the same dilemma. But you didn’t need to name this undefined feeling that stirred in you. Every shared glance, every smile that lingered a beat too long—these were all the words you needed. There was an understanding—unspoken yet undeniable—that whatever this was, it was real. And in that moment, with the quiet warmth shared between you two, it was enough.

---

You emerged from the restaurant, taking in the brisk air of the Christmas evening. Typically, retreating back into the bustling street was your first step in your retreat to the solitary comfort of your dorm room. It let you breathe a sigh of relief for escaping whatever social event you had been forced into. 

But tonight? Tonight your steps were unhurried, in fact you felt the urge to linger. Tonight, Minjeong was by your side, her soft smile mirroring your own. The breath you let go this time was instead a remorseful one, a signal that your time together was almost over. Of course as much as she looked the part, the girl before you wasn’t some unreachable, otherworldly angel—she was real, and very much contactable. 

You both watched from afar as your friends exchanged phone numbers with Karina, Giselle and Ning Ning. On any other day, you would have looked on in unspoken envy,but alas, tonight was different. You stared at the new contact sitting in your phone—a beautiful name befitting of an equally beautiful woman, punctuated by two snowflakes either side of it. 

“Minjeong,” it read. Simple, familiar now, but it held a weight you’d never thought a name could carry.

You grinned, feeling a warmth unlike any the night’s chill could steal away. The white-haired girl handed your phone back to you, sending a sincere smirk your way. 

“Make sure to call me, okay?” 

Her tone was light and gentle, but her eyes were serious, like this meant more to her than anything else.

“Of course,” you assured. There was nothing in this world that could make you shatter the joy reflected in that smile.

Without warning, she stepped forward, instantly closing the distance between you.  Her arms wrapped around you—warm, gentle and tentative. For a moment, you were too stunned to react, but the heat of her body—which was now flush to yours—quelled any concern.  Instinctively, your arms folded around her, drawing her closer, absorbing her presence. The soft scent of her hair drifted up to you, and you felt her heartbeat against your own.

“Thank you for tonight.” She whispered, her soft voice muffled by your chest.

You didn’t know how long you two were standing there, pressed together as one, but in the moment it didn’t matter. When she finally pulled away, you saw her face, beaming like the sun shines.

“Have a wonderful night,” she said, her cheeks flushed, mirroring the festive glow of the streets around you.

“It already has been,” you replied, your heart full as you returned a gentle, loving smile.

Love. You chuckled. 

Maybe that’s what this was.

---

If you got here thank you much for reading my first ever fic! I know there's a lot of filler here which could very easily be removed, but I really just wanted to keep everything I'd written. In the future, I'll make sure everything's more streamlined.

But apart from that I'd love for some constructive criticism. Thanks again!

[r0-boat]

🪶 anon here! Can I request headcanons for ZZZ Lighter, Billy, Anton, Ben Bigger, Wise, and Lycaon reacting to being under a mistletoe with his gn crush please?

Oh my God Oh my God I'm so late.

Pretend it's Christmas! just pretend! shut up!!

ZZZ Boys react being under the mistletoe

You smiled and chatted with a little group of your friends, the managers at random play hosted a Christmas party in their parking lot and who are you to decline your best friends! With a few chairs and tables Christmas lights and even a giant projector playing classic Christmas movies it quickly became very lively Even some of the people running the shop next door brought homemade food and treats, and some alcohol. After a drink or two and introducing yourself to a few people, You somehow made your way under a familiar green plant with someone you knew.

Lighter Lorenz

He'll try to act like he wasn't the one who tried so hard to look so casual standing close enough between you and the mistletoe. He'd been trying to get you underneath all night, And now that you're right next to him he had to hold back how much he was smiling as all he did was look up.

"Well, would you look at that... I'm not too familiar with the rules, are you?" The big fat liar said, letting a little curve of a smile grace his freshly moisturized lips from the chapstick he had used earlier. He was already sneaking his arms around your waist pulling you closer to kiss him. You decided to not call him out for his blatant lie as he almost completely took the lead and kissed you.

Billy Kid

He generally thought mistletoe was a myth, a myth that someone like him would never be under a plant like that. He didn't even know that The plant actually was a real life plant until Nicole had to explain to him what he was underneath. And once everything hits him all at once.

Billy.exe stopped working

He doesn't care if he can't feel your soft lips, the fact that you kissed him counts. But damn it was one of those days where he really wish he could feel maybe he should get that skin sensation update. It's expensive but any price he would pay to feel your lips again.

Anton Ivanov

The most chill out of everyone. "Oh I'm just giving you a kiss? Sure!" As he goes in to kiss you. Using the mistletoe as an excuse to kiss you has him fist bumping the air.

Anton is the kind of guy who makes his feelings for you known. He's also so blatant with his feelings that you think he's joking. If it was anywhere else on that mistletoe, he would have kissed them on the cheek or something, but no, for you. He makes sure to kiss you where it counts. He'll even ask "do you want more?"please say yes he would like that.

Ben Bigger

Poor bear he's practically shaking. Despite being twice your size He scared that he might hurt you or nip you on accident with his sharp teeth. "You don't have to if you don't want to... You can just kiss me right here." He says with a smile His claw pointing to his cheek. He could never accept a kiss from your lips. It's not the right time!

He'll make sure to bend to your height. His eyes closed, bracing for your soft lips. He could hear his heart pounding so loud that it drowned out everyone else. He hopes no one is looking. He might die from embarrassment or cardiac arrest, whichever one comes first.

You surprise him by touching his cute face and kissing his little nose. He hopes that you can't see his blushing face through his brown fur, but he's not helping to hide how he feels with his paws covering his face.

Wise

Damn it! He told his sister not to hang up that thing! And when trying to take it down you just so happen to bump into him. His eyes went wide as his heart jumped in his throat instantly forgetting what he was doing. His voice cracks as you point out the mistletoe that he's trying to reach for.

"Y-yeah That's there... Um... So listen you don't have to if you-" You were done hearing it as you kissed him on the lips. Thanking his self-restraint that day for swallowing his internal screaming. But he couldn't do much to hide the blush on his face as he smiled. "Forward aren't you... Save some for me." Four words that he will be regretting for the rest of his life.

Fine, the mistletoe can stay... For now, he'll have to thank his sister later.

Von Lycaon

To him a mistletoe is childish, Even as a younger pup He thought it was a little stupid. But with that bright smile on your face how could he refuse. Why spoil your fun? You look so happy to see him and you're cute face always makes his tail wag.

"where would you like my lips to lay?" He asks. When you appoint to your lips his eyebrows flick up for just a second before his smile widens. "Who am I to turn down such a request." He can't help but give you a little extra pressing his nose against your hand before moving to kiss your lips. Now he definitely understands the appeal of mistletoe.

Asaba Harumasa

He would probably take the mistletoe that is tied to the ceiling and bring it over to you. He taps your shoulder and jiggles it in his hand with a smug smile. He will regret this for the rest of his life, but who cares? He has a little alcohol in his system, and you're right there. His heart could burst when he felt your lips against his. He wanted more so badly. He tried to pull you in closer. His eyes were half-lit as if he were under a spell.

He had to stop himself from going in for another kiss. Your lips were so perfect. He wished he could do more than a quick peck, but with people watching, he couldn't just slip his tongue in your mouth.

[cute-sucker]

you loved the bunnies. 

as they huddled together, their little bodies on top of each other. their cage was bombarded with bunnies who scampered on one other, sniffing and squeaking sometimes. 

you loved it. they were so cute and fluffy, and could barely handle yourself, as you hung onto rafe's hand, begging him to take you to the bunnies. it was your friend's party, and for one of the parts, they brought tiny bunnies who you could play with. 

after all, rafe had brought them up. 

"y'know there's a party tomorrow," rafe murmured, tucking his credit card in his pocket, you flittered next to him rolling your eyes, your pretty manicured hand travelling up his chest. 

"don't wanna go," you whispered, sitting on your shared bed. at this rafe gave you a firm look, before laying down next to you. to be honest, although you were fully a kook, you hated going to those stuffy parties.

it was only another chance for people to make fun of you, or bother you about marrying rafe. your big ring was there to remind people that there was one of many reasons they should be nice to you. at least that's how rafe put it when he found you crying after being bullied at the party. 

so that was how you felt, yet you watched rafe pursed his lips, "i think it would be nice to have my wife at my side." 

you laughed at this, liking the way he referred to you as his wife, "c'mon that's not fair. you can't call me that. i'm your fiancé," you murmured, getting on your tip toes to kiss rafe on the nose. your nightgown was basically see through, as you swayed closer to him. 

he groaned, before pulling you in, "c'mon kid, you know you can't tease me like that," and pulled you in for a real kiss. 

you loved giving rafe kisses, and you especially liked it when he was nice to you. there was a way that his eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks, and his hands got real soft and close to your chest. it felt like summertime when he kissed you. sweet times, like a mango ice cream dripping down your lips. 

suckled honey, or even better wishes that came true. 

finally, he let go of you, and you felt dazed still gasping as you nuzzled into his chest. 

"there's bunnies at the party," he murmured into your skin. 

so there you were cooing at the bunnies as rafe was broodingly staring at you. it was a small cycle, and quickly enough you called him over. he looked close to rolling his eyes. 

"this is what you've abandoned me for?" rafe mused, pointing at the little bunnies cuddling each other. you nodded a bright smile of your face, your hands cupping your face. in all honestly, you wanted him closer, to feel his warmth but this was an excuse to get him close and not for him to expect it. 

"i really want to hold one," you whispered in his ear, and at this he looked at you with an amused expression. the little bunnies seemed to jump in joy, fuzzy and full of happiness. but this was rafe, he wouldn't give you anything you wanted if you didn't let him know. he liked it when you were explicitly clear. 

you sighed, "do you want me to spell it out? can you get one for me?" you huffed before pointing at one of them. rafe raised an eyebrow, his hand skimming over your chin. 

"you sound bratty to me," he quipped, keen eyes watching your expression change as you seemed to soften at his remark. "what do we say?" 

"please," you whined out softly. 

he scoffed before cupping your face, as you felt yourself flush, "fine sweets. i'll get you your little bunny." as calm as ever, rafe scooted down to pick up a bunny. he was so gentle, his rough arms skimming over their fur, before cooing to it. you felt jealous almost, he was more gentle with the bunny than he was with you. 

 yet, you were entrapped by his softness, as you watched his face relax. "y' gotta be nice, alright," he whispered, before letting drag your hand on the bunny's fur. the bunny rested in his arms, sleepy eyes peering up at him. 

as rafe cradled the bunny in his arms, you couldn't help but admire the gentle way he handled the little creature. his hands, which were often rough from work and training, now moved with such delicacy, as if he was afraid of disturbing the bunny's peace. it was a side of him that you cherished, the tenderness that he reserved for moments like these.

"you're a natural with them," you whispered out, watching as the bunny nestled closer to rafe's chest, seemingly content in his embrace.

he glanced up at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. you wanted to grab him and kiss him, "you're too sweet bun." 

you flushed, before reaching out to run your fingers over the bunny's soft fur, feeling the warmth radiating from its tiny body. it was such a simple pleasure, yet it filled you with a sense of warmth and happiness.

"thank you for getting it for me," you said, looking up at rafe with a grateful smile, your wide eyes full of softness.

his expression softened even further, his gaze lingering on you with a warmth that made your heart flutter. "anything for you, sweetheart," he replied, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

[riririnnnn]

More random things in Blue Lock I find endearing:

-> Telepathy

There is something really sweet about knowing someone so well that you don't even need to verbally speak to them. The above panel is just so heartwarming—I really want what they have.

-> Mothers

I'm so happy that Mothers in this Manga actually look like Women who are Mothers to a High School-er and don't just look like High School-ers themselves.

You might say, "Oh, but it's only a few lines on their faces that make them look old!"

...

And that's point—it's easy af to make characters who actually look like Mothers and yet there are so many Mangas out there who fail to do this.

If you know, you know.

-> Hi-five!

Just look at them. Just look. Just. Look. At. Them.

Do I need to say something else?

It's the main reason why I don't want Neru to get out of NEL—I want more of these cuties to interact!!

-> Frenemies in U-20

The above interactions are so wholesome, you know. Like, it's very hard to explain, but the above scenes are just so heartwarming to me.

Rin was trying to cheer up Isagi in his own cold ways!

While considering how Isagi was so adamant on crushing Rin at the start, it's just so precious to see him being the first one to go congratulate Rin for his goal with a freaking HUG! And it just wasn't a normal hug, it was a DIVE-IN!

Boys please resolve your issues.

-> Two Duos

The way Reo looks at Nagi with concern and the way Yukimiya's arm is stretched out to give Isagi some kind of support—everything about this is pure wholesome.

Nagi-Reo was expected, but Yukimiya-Isagi was something unexpected.

Also the way Nagi is just: (O x O)

LOL.

-> Meanwhile this idiot (affectionate)

I hate this Bastard (I love him). He is such a menace. I'll smack him (I'll smooch his forehead). I'll whoop his ass if I get a chance (For real).

Did he just fly down from somewhere though?

Hey there, Chigiri.

-> Ubers PT - 2

You know, if you think over it, then Ubers have the most random ass characters together—

A tyrannical King

A 15 years old weeb

A glam can-be vogue model

A womaniser

A wannabe womaniser

And Lorenzo

and yet they are the team that feels the most family-like.

I adore them so much.

-> Unfaithful gentleman

When the Blue Lock-ers Vs U-20 was happening in the Bowling area, he was the first (and only) one who went to the registration counter—this behaviour just screams, "CAPTAIN!"

But on a second thought, I think his ahh just wanted an excuse to talk with the ladies behind the counter.

I just know he is such a smooth talker that you'll melt like a butter in a hot pan.

Someone get his ass!

-> Trust

It's one of those things that only a handful of people can understand and that is Kaiser trusting Ness to cut his hair.

Further, the way Kaiser opened up about himself feels bittersweet when you think about his backstory.

I hope those theories that revolved around Ness leaving Kaiser for Isagi never comes true.

.

.

.

Part: 1, 2, 4.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

How would Platonic! Yan! Batfamily react to Reader with Narcolepsy?

A/N:Thank you for requesting. I hope I did okay with this, please respectfully correct me if I got anything wrong or unintentionally offensive with this as I do not suffer from narcolepsy.

Warnings: Toxic and abusive family dynamics, infantalization, medication tampering, worsening issues

Masterlist

Requests: always open

Oh my gosh that would be the worse thing to deal with in a Yan! family. Especially with one as affectionate as them.

Can you imagine trying to avoid Dick or Tim but just falling right asleep in their arms from the stress...then when you wake up moments later, they aren't allowing you to leave their grasp...oh how terrifying that'd be.

Anyways, they are rather attentive to your needs and observant. If one of the siblings notice that you are showing signs that you will abruptly collapse, they will rush over and quickly guide you to a safe area where you can rest.

The family is very strict on not giving you certain tasks that may be hard on your body. Especially if you deal with cataplexy. If you need help with moving something, or completing a task, just ask someone. They will be very upset if you get yourself hurt.

The down side of not having great muscle control or overall weakness is the constant babying. They treat you as if you were made out of glass. It can be quite annoying when you need to strengthen your muscles even if it's very difficult for you. They also might enjoy keeping you weak and vulnerable because you have less of a chance to escape and no real ability to fight back. You are far to precious to not be in their care.

Your family is strict about not allowing you to hang out with friends and staying only in the home. Occasionally they'll allow you to have a supervised visit. They even may force you to take up schooling at home and you're not allowed to work. It's all far too dangerous when they aren't near to assist you. You cannot trust anyone outside of them.

If you suffer with hallucinations, whether that may be audio or visual, they will be very understanding. You aren't the only one in the family to suffer with symptoms like such. Many days Jason and Bruce are struggling with those things. I can't imagine anyone would poke fun, they'd just redirect you.

But his can kind of suck given that sometimes you cannot tell if something that happened was real or not. Your family may say that you were just having a hallucination but you swear that you heard them talking about tampering with your meds.

Speaking of such, they most definitely do. The medicine that is supposed to help with your EDS seems to have the opposite effect on you. Some days it seems like you've been sleeping for weeks. You swore that you feel asleep in the living room...why are you now in an entirely different sect of the mansion..???

If you suffer with memory issues, that will be a huge problem because so many things they get away with or manipulate you about and because you have no recollection of any events..you are just forced to go with it, even if your gut says something is wrong.

Sometimes the family can get a bit worried if you are up all night..they worry you might wonder off or get hurt while they are either on patrol or sleeping so one designated person must be up with you at all times.

Even when you're sleeping. Someone is monitoring you and your health. Usually Alfred or one of the siblings if they are free.

Often Tim will take the shift since he is usually home and doing work anyways. Too many times have you randomly woken up in his dark room with him in the corner watching you.

Your constant fatigue is an excuse your siblings may use to just carry you around without your consent. Yes, you were struggling up the stairs. but no. you didn't really want Dick to just come and pick you up and carry you around the house like a pet. It's worse when it's Jason because he throws you over his shoulder...he's working on it.

Alfred has a specialty diet for you, which kind of sucks sometimes when the others are eating your favorites. But it's for the best he tells you. It's supposed to help with your symptoms but...every time you eat his cooking, you just feel sick then super drowsy..Alfred says it's the adjustment period to the new diet..but you can't shake the feeling that the food is worsening your conditions

[certaimromance]

ꫂ ၴႅၴ Tall Child.

Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader (platonic)

Summary: No matter how hard you try to impress him, Agent Hotchner never seems to be satisfied with your work. And it all comes crashing down when you decide to confront him.

Words: 2,7k.

Warnings & Tags: mentions of crime. reader was injured (nothing serious). angst WITHOUT happy ending. hotch being a father figure. soo much angst (yes, again). father and rebellious daughter type discussion. temporarily located in the first season. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: He is so ❤️‍🔥daddy❤️‍🔥 but also 💔dad💔 for me, okay?

This was painful to write, so I loved it (I literally wrote it with I Bet On Losing Dogs by Mitski in the background).

Anyone who knows you knows that your lifelong dream was to help make the world a better place.

And from your day one at the BAU, you felt like your wildest dreams had come true. You were saving lives, reassuring victims, and helping to bring to justice those who tormented them so they could never do it to anyone else again. You were making a real difference in the world, even if you weren't the caped superhero you wanted to be as a kid.

But, as they say, nothing's perfect. And your job had more contradictions for your mental and physical health than there were fingers on your hands to count. The long and unstable schedule, the few hours of sleep, nightmares about the atrocities you saw, no social life outside the team...and of course, the constant disappointment you felt from Aaron Hotchner, your boss.

From day one, you had worked tirelessly to prove yourself. You craved the approval of your superiors, the respect of your colleagues. The job was demanding, yes, but you wanted to show that you could not only handle it but thrive under the pressure. And you had earned the trust and admiration of everyone around you, except for him.

Agent Hotchner was an enigma to you. There was something about him that both intrigued and intimidated you. He was always so calm, without showing much emotion, without so much as a smile for you. He was a wall you couldn't break through no matter how hard you tried. You had tried so hard to impress him, to make sure he saw your dedication, your work ethic, but you always seemed to fall short. His approval, or lack thereof, hurt more than anything else. You had gotten used to it by now, but it didn't make it any easier.

And now, here you were, in his office, watching him scrutinize your medical diagnosis. He had just glanced at the report from the doctor that had followed you back from the Utah case. Your shoulder, a minor injury, but one that could’ve been avoided if you hadn’t thrown yourself headfirst into the danger in the way you did.

Finally, after several moments of awkward silence, you dared to speak. “What do you think? I am practically at my best.”

Deep down, you knew you were lying through your teeth and that you were not well with an injured shoulder, a concussion, and several bruises, but you refused to say so out loud. You were a brave girl, and he should know.

Hotch looked up from the report in his hand and stared at you. It was the kind of look that made your hair stand on end and gave you a feeling that something was wrong.

“No, you're not.” He sighs and closes the folder before walking over to the desk you were sitting behind. He leans against it as he looks at you, arms folded across his chest. “You disobeyed a direct order during the case. You abandoned your partner.”

“I didn’t abandon Reid,” you replied, your voice sounding more defensive than you intended. You straightened in your chair, wincing slightly as your shoulder protested the movement. “I simply suggested he wait behind me. And it worked, didn’t it? He saved the victim, and I stopped the unsub.”

Teamwork, as you liked to call it.

“It paid off this time,” he said, his voice low but firm. “But that doesn’t excuse disregarding protocol. You put yourself and your partner in unnecessary danger. That’s not the kind of decision-making we can afford here.”

Oh no, here comes the usual chatter you didn't want to hear this time. Normally, you would be quiet, listening and nodding at his every word, but this time there was something different. You just longed for congratulations. Was it really so difficult for him to tell you once that you did something right?

You stiffened in your chair, the ache in your shoulder suddenly more pronounced. “With all due respect, I evaluated the situation and made a hard decision. I’m not some rookie who doesn’t know how to handle themselves in the field.”

Even as the words came out, you felt very nervous. You didn't know if it was the drugs they gave you in the hospital to fight the pain or if it was just your shyness leaving your body completely for no reason.

“I’m not questioning your skills,” he replied sharply. “But you’re not operating at one hundred percent, and that affects your judgment. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard for months—longer, maybe. And now you’re injured. You need time to recover and think about this.”

God, no.

“I don’t need time; I need to work,” you shot back, frustration lacing your tone. This job was your lifeline, your purpose. Without it, who were you?

“You know we work as a team. A unit. And when one part of the unit breaks down, there are consequences.” His voice wasn’t just firm; it was unyielding, like a warning. The way he said it almost felt like he was speaking to a child—a reprimand you didn’t want but knew you had earned. “No one is above the team, not even you.”

You didn't know if it was the way he said it or the words he used, but it was like the straw that broke the camel's back, and you were tired of putting up with the situation. This was the first time you had made a decision on your own, the first time you had not discussed your ideas with the team only to have them ignored and then spoken louder by someone else. Finally, you had acted, and even that was wrong.

You were tired, fucking tired of being ignored and judged much more harshly than the rest.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, barely audible but heavy with frustration. The ache in your shoulder seemed to flare as if your body was responding to the tension in the room. “And what consequences are you thinking of, sir?” you asked, your voice dripping with sarcasm. There was no hiding the venom now. “What’s worse than not being valued even when I do my job?”

His gaze turned hard as if your tone had cut him deeper than any physical injury could. He didn’t take kindly to disrespect, especially from someone who had otherwise followed his orders without question. You saw the shift in him, the quiet fury simmering beneath his usually controlled exterior. If you were anyone else, the conversation would have already escalated. But you weren’t anyone else. You were someone he knew far too well.

“Don’t use that tone with me,” he bit back, his voice low and steady but carrying a weight that made your stomach twist. There was no mistake now—this wasn’t just about the case. This was more personal. “You are suspended. Your gun and badge on the table. Now.”

Oh, oh, oh.

The words hung in the air between you like a guillotine, sudden and final. The room seemed to close in on you, the breath in your chest catching in surprise. You didn’t know if it was the shock or the disbelief, but your mind struggled to grasp the magnitude of his command. Suspended? Your world was spinning.

You opened your mouth to speak, to argue, but the words caught in your throat, leaving you with nothing but a hollow sound of confusion. “What? Why?”

“Agent, you disobeyed a direct order and endangered yourself and your partner,” he said firmly. “I don’t take your actions lightly. Suspension is not a punishment—it’s a consequence. You need time to heal, both physically and mentally.”

The idea of being sidelined was incomprehensible. The thought of doing nothing—being stuck in your apartment, forced to be still—felt suffocating. No. You couldn’t accept it.

“This is ridiculous. I did my job! I stopped the unsub! Reid saved the victim because I made the right choice!”

You saved a life, even if it meant risking a little of your own. You did save it.

“And what happens next time?” Hotch shot back, his voice rising slightly. “What happens if your judgment falters again because you’re running on empty? What if next time, it’s Reid who doesn’t come back?”

Then, silence.

The thought of Spencer getting hurt turned your stomach and made you question your actions. If anything happened to him, you would never forgive yourself…His life did matter, a lot.

“Gun. Badge. Now.” Your boss talks again. He gestured toward the desk.

Your fingers trembled, betraying you as you reached for the gun on your hip. The cool metal felt foreign in your hands, like something that had never truly belonged to you. Your mind screamed for you to stop, to stand your ground, to fight this. But your body, exhausted and broken, refused to cooperate.

You opened your mouth to speak, but your voice cracked before you could get the words out. “I…I didn’t mean…I just…”

Finally, with a shaky breath, you placed your gun on the desk. The thud it made as it landed felt like the sound of everything you had worked for being shattered in front of you. You could feel the sting of unshed tears burning in your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him.

It didn’t matter what you said. It never seemed to matter, not with him. You had tried so hard to be the one who did everything right, to be the one he could rely on, and yet all you had earned was this—this cold, final judgment. He wasn’t just your boss in that moment; he was the embodiment of everything you had tried to prove yourself against. A reminder that, no matter what you did, it still wasn’t enough.

The words spilled from your mouth before you could stop them, the bitter taste of them already familiar. “You think I’m weak, don’t you?” The tone you had intended to be defiant came out more like a desperate plea. “You think I can’t handle this, that I’m just some liability?”

He didn’t flinch at your outburst. His gaze softened, but just barely. “No,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle but firm. “I think you’re pushing yourself too hard. You’re not weak. But you’re hurting, and I can see it. You need time to recover.”

The words hit you like a slap, unexpected and unwelcome. You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips as you tried to fight back the burning in your chest. You refused to let the tears well up, to let them gather where he could see them. Not here. Not now. Please, not now.

“I don’t need time,” you said, your voice sharp, biting. But underneath the defiance was something raw and desperate, a quiet plea that you couldn’t fully suppress. “I need to be here. I need to do my job. I need to save lives.”

The last part came out as a whisper, as though saying it too loudly would shatter the fragile conviction you had left. You felt like you were slipping, like the ground beneath you was crumbling, and all you could do was cling to this one thing—the job. The only thing that made you feel like you mattered.

“The only life you need to save now is yours,” he said, his voice quieter but still heavy with authority.

You froze, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a crushing tide. Your stomach churned, and you fought to keep your composure, to keep from lashing out, even though every part of you wanted to scream. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t.

A bitter, trembling laugh bubbled up from your throat, unbidden and full of venom. “If it had been Reid or Morgan, you wouldn’t be doing this,” you snapped, the accusation like a raw wound exposed to the open air.

For the first time, something flickered in his eyes—anger, hurt, or something you couldn’t quite place. His jaw tightened, his posture stiffening, and when he spoke, his voice was sharper than before, each word deliberate and cutting.

“No,” he said, the firmness in his tone slicing through the room like a blade. “Because they would never have done this.”

The silence that followed was deafening. It slammed into you like a tidal wave, drowning out every other sound. His words rang in your ears, echoing in the hollow space left behind by your crumbling defenses.

They would never have done this.

Your chest tightened, a deep ache settling in your ribs, and for a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. The accusation hung in the air, heavy and unforgiving. He wasn’t just saying you’d made a mistake—he was saying you were the mistake. That you weren’t good enough. That you never would be.

“Is this because I’m a woman?” you asked, the words coming out sharper than you intended. There was a bitter edge to them, a question that had been gnawing at you for far too long. “Because Elle is too, and even she has more, or is it because of my age? Reid is younger, and you never doubt him.”

“It’s not about any of that,” he said finally, his voice low and tight. But it wasn’t reassuring. It only sounded like an evasion, like he was brushing your concerns aside, and it made your chest ache all over again. “It’s not about your gender or your age.”

“It’s about me,” you said, the words like glass shards scraping at your insides. “It’s about how you don’t trust me.”

For the first time, you saw a flicker of something in his eyes—something almost like guilt, but it was fleeting, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. He opened his mouth, but the words he spoke next were measured, controlled. Too controlled.

“No,” he said, his voice so steady it almost hurt. “That’s not it.”

You stared at him, heart racing, hands trembling, as the truth wrapped around you tighter than you ever thought possible. His words weren’t just dismissing your feelings—they were rejecting everything you had ever believed about your worth, about why you were here, in this moment, fighting so desperately for something you couldn’t even name.

But this time, it was different. You weren’t going to back down. Not anymore.

“Then what is it?” You whispered, voice breaking, tears finally threatening to spill. “What is it, Hotch? What is it about me that isn’t enough?”

“It’s not about you,” he said, but his voice lacked the certainty it usually held. “It’s not about trusting you…It’s about protecting you.” His gaze softened just enough for you to notice, but it only made the pain worse. “I can’t lose…I can’t let you lose yourself.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You were trembling, your pulse racing in your ears, but now there was only a terrible stillness. You swallowed, trying to push down the bitterness that rose up in your throat.

“You don’t get to make decisions for me,” you snapped, barely holding back the frustration that bubbled to the surface. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. You don’t get to act like you’re my father, making me follow some imaginary line, keeping me under your control. If you want to raise someone, you already have a baby at home.”

The moment the words left your lips, you saw it—just the faintest flicker of hurt in his eyes. The barest flinch. But it was enough to make you feel the weight of your accusation like a stone, sinking into your chest. The silence that followed was thick with it, suffocating, and you could feel the air growing heavier between you.

“I’m not your dad,” he said, the words low, the icy calm of his voice unmistakable. There was no anger in it, just a hollow, painful truth. But the sting of it was sharp enough to leave a mark.

You blinked, the sharpness of his response cutting through you like a blade. You wanted to fight back, to lash out with everything you had, but something stopped you. Instead, your voice came out quieter, almost hollow as you whispered, “I know…Do you know that?”

And then, just like that, you turned away, your breath ragged in your chest. You didn’t wait for his answer, didn’t wait for anything. You couldn’t stand the ache that had taken root in your chest, the fear that had begun to take shape in the corners of your mind.

And the door slammed behind you.