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miniseokminnies · 2 months ago

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the gambit —- y.jh

♙ pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader ♙ genre: enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, 1960s au, university au, chess club president!jeonghan, club member!yn ♙ wc: ~12.5k ♙ warnings: 18+ MDNI, sexism (it's the 1960s), heavily implied reader is a virgin, unprotected sex (that's a no no), oral sex [f. receiving], fingering, pet names, praise kink, marking, drinking and getting drunk, a lot of rude men ♙ a/n: this is obviously VERY LOOSELY inspired by The Queen's Gambit lol. give jeonghan a chance he's learning okay?? thank you to my army of beta readers: @haologram, @lovetaroandtaemin, @highvern, and @tomodachiii i genuienly would not have this posted without them. ♙tags: @seungkw1, @cherry-zip, @crab-ranjun, @myhimbomingi oh and happy holidays i guess (i wanted to have this out way sooner) enjoy! and as always comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated

Three succinct knocks rang out as you rapped your knuckles against the door frame. The man alone inside the room looked in your direction. Looking him over you noticed his striking features that were delicately framed by his black hair that was only a bit shorter than your own.

“Are you lost, miss?” He straightened up, “Sorority recruitment is across the hall.” He turned back to setting up the chess set on the table in front of him.

“What?” you asked, confused, “No, this is the chess club, is it not?”

“It is,” he didn’t bother looking in your direction this time.

“Then I am in the right place,” you took a few steps into the room as he looked up at you again.

“Girls don’t play chess.” he stifled a laugh.

“There’s nothing in the university rules against gir-women joining recreational clubs.” You watched him sigh and snatch a notebook off the table.

“Look,” he walked closer to you and held out the notebook, “you may watch”

“I have my own notebook, thank you.” You turned on your heel and huffed into a chair near a chess set across the room. The man watched you for a moment before turning back to his task of setting up the chess boards. You could only assume that he was the president of the club, but could not wrap your head around why he was voted in.

After waiting for a few moments several more boys began trickling into the room, all of them giving you a once over. Have these people never seen a girl before?

“Excuse me miss,” one of the boys approached you and sat at the board nearest to you, “I’m Minghao”

“Y/N,” you nodded and scribbled his name down in your book. You could feel Minghao’s eyes on you, but you didn’t feel as though you owed him any explanation. After a few minutes another boy who introduced himself as Wonwoo joined Minghao at the table.

The president announced that the meeting today would function “tournament style” and everyone should get the chance to have a match with each other. Perfect.

Wonwoo and Minghao played well, but Wonwoo had a bad habit of leaving his queen unprotected and Minghao always overutilized his rook. In the end, even with a queen out in the open, Wonwoo found a checkmate.

Minghao was unhappy with this result and challenged him to a rematch outside of club time which Wonwoo eagerly agreed to. You were finishing up your notes on their match when two new men appeared at your table introducing themselves as Mark and Yunho.

The remaining matches went by quickly, you felt the president’s eyes on you every so often, he wondered what you could possibly be taking such detailed notes about when you weren’t even playing. Men came and went, all politely introducing themselves to you, clearly they don’t take after their fearless leader in any capacity.

The “tournament” went on for a few hours, your ass was starting to go numb from the chair by the time it was called in favor of the president, who peculiarly you never had the opportunity to observe. He dismissed the club and they all filtered out as you finished up your notes. You heard his footsteps approaching as you dotted the last punctuation on the page.

“So?” he started smugly, “Enjoy your observations?” he watched as you ripped out several pages of your own notebook. You rose out of your seat and square your shoulders, you shoved the pages into his chest and left the room without another word. He watched you leave the room, your skirt swishing around your knees.

Tearing his eyes from the door he looked down at the papers you left him. He read over them and quickly realized what it was you were doing all this time. Each member was written down and in detail you scrawled out every single missed check from each and every game played here today.

The bottom of the page reads “The President: ?”

“What are you doing?” your roommate, Cami, flopped around in her bed, “It’s the first month of classes, there’s no way you have course work already”

“I don’t” you moved your rook, not looking away from the board, “Remember how I told you I was going to join the chess club?”

“Yes?”

“Well the stupid president won’t let me play” you captured white’s queen, “so I’m not able to practice with anyone” you heard her throw her blankets around and the clatter of her hand hitting her glasses,

“What?” she hissed, “he can’t do that can he?” she sat up in bed

“I mean,” you finally looked up at her, “He didn’t technically bar me from joining”

“Look at you” she scoffed, “Making you just sit there and watch when you’re the best player like ever!”

“I am nowhere near the best, Cami.”

“Well” she protested, “You’re the best player I know!”

“I’m the only player you know,” you laughed.

“Not true!” she hopped off her bed, “Teach me.” She pulled out her desk chair and pulled it next to you. You quirk an eyebrow at her, “Seriously! Teaching is great practice plus you keep me awake with this dreadful lamp anyway”

You swipe all of the pieces from the board and begin to set them back up in their proper places, you set the black in place and invite Cami to mirror them with the white on the other side. Starting off you teach her some simple and popular openings. For as airy as she tends to be she is an attentive listener and is able to grasp the basics quickly.

You feel like you could cry, no one has truly taken this much of an interest in you, besides your parents and some friends from high school. When you first moved in with Cami you were worried she would join a sorority on campus and never be around, and while you like your alone time, being alone is a difficult task.

“And how do you win?” Cami asked once the board was scarce with pieces.

“You need a successful and all encompassing check,” you move your queen to trap her king sufficiently, “Like this one, check mate” you reach over and softly lay the king on the board.

From your usual chair in the back of the room you strain to listen to the conversation happening between Wonwoo and the president, who you learned recently was named Jeonghan. The discussion looked heated and Wonwoo was hesitating at the door frame like a child being scolded.

Jeonghan threw his hands up, exasperated, and turned to make a beeline for you. You fumbled about trying to get your notebook open and to a page to make it look like you weren’t just eavesdropping.

“You heard all of that I’m assuming,” he asked gruffly, “You’re not as subtle as you would like to think.”

“What?” you blinked up at him. He bent down to get closer to your face,

“Don’t play dumb, we both know you aren’t,” he nearly growled, “You were listening to that entire conversation”

“I was trying to,” you admitted with a roll of your eyes, “I couldn’t hear a thing from over here,” He backs away from you and makes a subtle noise of approval.

“You’re with Minghao today,” he said as he was turning to leave, which made you shoot up out of your chair.

“I actually get to play?” You blurted out, which caused him to turn back to you,

“Yeah,” he scoffed at your enthusiasm, “Uneven numbers, Minghao needs a partner, Wonwoo had to go tutor our idiot friend Mingyu, I guess” You made a mental note to thank whoever Mingyu was profusely if you were to ever meet him. Jeonghan took your silence as an invitation to leave this conversation,as if he had ever needed one before.

You glanced around the room until you found Minghao’s eyes on you.

“Hi,” You offered your hand for him to shake as you approached his table. He easily took your hand and shook it.

“Sit, sit” he insisted, “It’s an honor to be the first to play you, sorry it’s under weird circumstances,” he chuckles awkwardly.

You told Minghao not to worry about the circumstances, you were just happy to be playing after weeks of sitting around watching. With this he began the game, he utilized a simple opener and your first capture came quickly. This wasn’t to say that Minghao wasn’t a good player and didn’t put up a fight.

You, however, were hungry to show everyone here that you were not to be messed with. Minghao felt that you were two steps ahead of him the entire match, he didn’t understand how it felt like you were in his head and knew his moves. If it wasn’t so impressive he would be infuriated.

He didn’t even mind that you baited him quickly into a checkmate. He wanted to see you beat Jeonghan, to wipe the winning streak clean. Even more, he wanted to see Jeonghan get beat by a freshman, a wickedly smart and kind of scary freshman.

“What are you doing?” Jeonghan asked from across the room where he was putting pieces back into boxes, “I need to clean that up and I can’t very well do that when you’re still using it”

“Minghao almost beat me” You mumbled, not looking up from the board. You hear Jeonghan sigh and walk toward you.

“Almosts don’t matter in chess, you either win or you don’t” he swiped your notebook from under your elbow, “And you won��

“Give it back, Yoon, I’m not in the mood” you attempted to grab it back from him.

“When are you ever,” he snorted, holding the book over his head. You shot out of your chair.

“Give it back!” you attempted to reach for it, “I’m trying to find weaknesses in my game and you’re acting like a child!”

“Fine,” he lowered the book with a look in his eyes that let you know that this would not be that easy, “play me then” You blinked at him,

“Really?”

“You’re looking for weaknesses in your game, play me” he pulled out the chair recently vacated by Minghao and sat down, “Well? I don’t have all night." You took your seat, studying Jeonghan’s face. He has never been across from you as your opponent, let alone offered a match. He passes your notebook back to you and watches as you carefully turn to a new page, crack the spine, and scrawl out his name and the date at the top of the page.

You carefully move your first pawn, which in return Jeonghan moves his, beginning the dance. Your second pawn takes its place and you hear your opponent chuckle.

“What?” you spat defensively.

“Oh nothing,” he hides his smile with his hand, “you’re just predictable, you always start with attempting a queen’s gambit”. Heat rushes to your cheeks and you immediately know you are at a disadvantage, Jeonghan knows your game and you know nothing of his. He delicately moves a second pawn forward, “Queen’s gambit declined” he sits back in his chair, thinking he already has you beat.

The first capture of the match is in you taking his first pawn, he returns the favor by taking yours quickly. The two of you go back and forth like this for several turns. You realize quickly that he is very much your equal, he is smart and clever, but he plays rigidly and by the book. By the book players are usually easy for you to handle.

Jeonghan was different, it’s almost as if he knew your moves before you made them, and admittedly he kind of did. Not well enough, you were nervous in the middle of the match but now you were sure that you could lure him into a checkmate within three moves.

Letting him capture your rook was a small sacrifice. Luring him into a false sense of security letting him take this piece and your queen earlier in the game, so that your second rook could move to take his queen and leaving his king open. Attempting to move his king out of the line of fire from your rook only placed it in harm's way at the hands of your bishop.

“Checkmate” you declared. Jeonghan sat quietly, you saw the math he was doing in his mind by the way his eyes were flitting around the board, calculating his mistakes. You gathered your things and swiped them into your arms and turned to leave.

Fingers encircled your wrist and pulled you to face him. Judging by the look on his face he did not think before he acted for once, “If it means so much to you, I won’t tell anyone I beat you,” you offered, rolling your eyes.

“You’re infuriatingly irritating” was the last thing he said before pulling you closer and pressing his soft lips to yours. You stood perfectly still, shocked at the sudden development, Jeonghan didn’t push until you parted your lips. With this he deepened the kiss, his mouth tasted of tobacco, the expensive kind. His skin was warm against yours, and you weren’t sure why you didn’t entirely hate this exchange.

Tentatively, you placed your hands on his hips, your notebook falling to the floor forgotten. Jeonghan swiped his tongue into your mouth and you let him. He felt your fingers grip for dear life and tried to ignore the fact that the gesture caused his head to swim. He had the faintest idea of why he kissed you and even less of an idea on why you let him but he would not complain. He tangled his hands in your hair.

He pulled your lip between his teeth and it snapped something in you, you pressed your thighs together and sighed. When Jeonghan moved to plant kisses just below your ear you realized what was happening and pushed back against his chest.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“You seemed to enjoy it.” he sighed pushing a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know what this is,” you picked up your notebook, “but find someone else to help you out next time you get hard over a girl beating you”

You shifted uncomfortably in the doorway of the fraternity house as Cami was informing the poor boy working the door who she was and who the two of you were intending to meet inside. Finally, after what felt like an eternity out on the porch, he stepped aside and the two of you shuffled past him. The inside of the house was nothing special, it smelled of smoke and sweat. There were groups of people scattered about talking and drinking.

Cami put a hand on your arm and began to pull you further into the house, “Come on!” she shouted over the noise, “I’m meeting him in the kitchen!” and she began weaving her way through the house, as if she had done this a thousand times before.

The kitchen was open and frankly dirty. There was a couple making out against the counter closest to where your roommate dragged you.

“Y/N, this is Mingyu, the guy I told you about,” she smiled up at him, “and this is Y/N, my roommate”

“Nice to meet you,” Mingyu smiled at you momentarily before turning his attention back to the girl he actually invited to this party. You were surprised, you figured it would have taken longer than five minutes for you to start wondering why you came here in the first place. You were starting to feel boxed in, the couple on the counter was getting dangerously close to exposing themselves to you, and Mingyu was whispering close to your roommate's ear. You could only imagine the filthy things he was surely saying to her, judging by the scarlet blush rising up her neck and the giddy smile playing at her lips.

“Take this,” a familiar voice cut through the panic, a small glass being pressed into your hand. Looking up, Jeonghan had a matching glass up to his lips, looking down at you expectantly. You followed suit and the two of you tipped the glasses back together. The liquid burned your throat and you sputtered a cough as you felt the heat settle in your belly. “Woah,” he stifled a laugh, “Never had a drink before, noted,” he filled up his shot glass with water from the sink and traded it for your empty glass. He guided it to your lips and disappeared down the hall, just as quickly as he approached.

The water dulled the burn in your throat. During your exchange with Jeonghan your roommate and Mingyu disappeared somewhere, sighing you left the kitchen to find them or somewhere quiet to sit down, whichever came first.

As it turned out, at a party there are few places unoccupied by people. You took to walking laps around the bottom floor of the house looking out for anyone leaving or a room you missed. On lap one thousand (give or take) you heard your roommate’s laugh cut through the dull thrum of the music from the turntable in the living room. You looked toward where you heard her, your shoulders slumped seeing Mingyu lead her up the stairs, cursing under your breath you stomped through the kitchen and into the first door you came across.

You plop to the ground and cross your arms over your chest, if anyone were to be looking at you right now you’re sure you would look like a petulant child. You’re not even sure why you’re angry, you knew she would end up hooking up with this guy tonight. Walking home could be an option, however it’s getting cold…and do you even remember how to get back? Don’t parties like this typically have sober drivers? But I’m not drunk…I only had whatever Jeonghan gave me, you thought, Jeonghan! You could find him, but how embarrassing would it be to crawl to him for help right now? He would use it against you forever and you are as good as kicked out of the chess club after this! What would have been the point of any of this if you can’t play chess? This stupid situation with Jeonghan would have been for naught.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, you scramble to situate yourself in this damned skirt to have any semblance of appropriateness for whoever is coming through that door.

“What are you doing in the laundry room?” you could hear the smirk in his tone before you even looked up. Jeonghan slipped into the small room, which when looking around you realized it was in fact the laundry room. He closed the door behind him with the hand not occupied with a bottle of liquor and a cigarette perched between his pointer and middle fingers. Scooting back you pressed your back against the washing machine and stretched your legs straight in front of you. Jeonghan grunted while sitting down on the floor next to you, his back up against the dryer. He set down the bottle and two of those little glasses from earlier on the floor in front of him.

“There was nowhere else to sit…” You offered quietly. “My stupid roommate went upstairs with some guy and she is the only reason I’m even at this fucking party! I wanted to stay home tonight, but she dragged me out here and–and are you trying to get me drunk?” you interrupted yourself, eyes flicking between the contents on the floor and Jeonghan. He cracked a smile, not a smirk, a smile, at your question.

“No, Dove,” he chuckled sticking the cigarette between his lips, “I’m trying to get you to loosen up for once,” he brought his hand above your thigh, hesitating in the air for only a moment before placing it down slightly above your knee, kneading the flesh there. Jeonghan had kissed you last week, but this felt…intimate, not angry. Before you had the chance to yell at him he brought his hand back to his lap, “You’re tense.”

“Yeah, not a great night,” you pointed out, “And it seems like it is getting weird now,” he rolled his eyes at your addition and began pouring the liquid into the two glasses.

“Take another shot with me, will you?” he attempted to hand you the glass, “before I decide you’ve annoyed me too much for one night”

“No”

“Y/N please, don’t be so insufferable for once,” he moved his glass to his lips and removed the cigarette, which admittedly was distracting enough for you to almost give in. You held strong. Jeonghan clicked his tongue disapprovingly and threw back the contents of the glass. He brought his free hand and scrubbed his face, “Fine, let’s play a game.” he poured himself another shot.

“What kind of game?”

“Really that’s all it took?” he looked at you, his eyes starting to shine with the alcohol, “Beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose.” he taps the glass with his fingers, a habit that manifests when he’s thinking, you’ve noticed throughout his chess matches,

“You’re making a game up,” you point out nonchalantly,

“What?” the drumming stops for a moment, “No, I’m remembering the rules”

“No you’re not, tell me about your made up game, Yoon”

“It’s a real game…anyway, rules are simple, you ask me a question, I answer, then you answer. If you don’t want to answer, you take a shot, if we both answer, we both take a shot”

“Those rules don’t make sense” “Yes they do, who was the first LP you ever got?” you were taken aback by the tameness of his question, but you figured he was just getting started.

“The Blues and the Abstract Truth by Oliver Nelson”

“Jazz?” he scoffed, “Have you ever thought about not being boring?”

“Have you ever thought about being a decent person?”

“Don’t get unglued,” he rolled his eyes, “mine was Nice’n’Easy by Frank Sinatra” With that he tipped his glass back and emptied it, you followed suit and tried not to cough this time. He gestured to you seemingly inviting you to ask a question of your own. You thought for a moment,

“Why do you play chess?” you asked.

“My dad figured it would be a good skill to have” he shrugged, “But I think it has something to do with the fact that the world chess champion was, and still is, a Soviet. I don’t really care about that though, I just like to play, I’m good at it.”

“You only play chess because you’re good at it?” you said flatly

“Ah ah” he tsked, “You already asked your question, so either answer or drink up”

“Fine,” you sighed with a pointed look in his direction, “My grandpa taught me, I always watched him and his buddy play when he babysat me. I learned by watching and then eventually playing, and beating, both of them.”

“Learning chess just by watching,” he mumbled and shook his head. “Gimme,” his lithe fingers took the glass from your hand, set it on the floor next to his and poured another round. You both drank the shot with no complaint.

The game continued like this for a while, Jeonghan never asking anything that stumped you, and in return he answered every question of yours. You weren’t sure what being drunk actually felt like but if someone told you this was it you would believe them. Your muscles relaxed more than you can remember in recent months, your vision was slightly blurry, and you felt a pleasant buzz in your brain. Jeonghan was slumped against the dryer and his head leaned on your shoulder.

“When’s your birthday?” Jeonghan asked, playing with your fingers lightly.

“January 2”

“Coming up,” he noted, “Mine was October 4”

“How old are you now?”

“22” he sighed, “graduating in May” You knew Jeonghan was older than you, but you hadn’t thought about the fact that he would be actually graduating, leaving. Something about that made you sick to your stomach in a way, but you weren’t sure why, don’t you hate him?

“I’ll be 19 next month” you mumbled. He shifted his body to sit up and look at you. His eyes were glassy and heavy, physical evidence of the alcohol thrumming in his system.

“Are you drunk?” he asked

“I have no earthly idea, Han” he smiled at the nickname. He reached over to cup your cheek in his hand, unconsciously you melted into him.

“I might be,” he mumbled, and even in your intoxicated state you couldn’t miss the way his eyes flicked from yours to your lips, only for a moment. After what felt like ages he connected his lips to yours. The kiss was sweet, his lips were warm and he didn’t rush it. He held you as his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, requesting entrance. Once that entrance was granted it was as if the floodgates opened for him. Both of his hands were in your hair and he was licking into your mouth. Jeonghan tasted of the alcohol the two of you had been drinking the entire night, different from the taste on his lips last time. Jeonghan curiously tugged at the hair around his fingers.

Butterflies, or something like that but infinitely more intense, erupted in your stomach. The suddenness of it all allowed a whine to escape your lips. With that Jeonghan pulled back from you but stayed close enough for your noses to still be touching.

“I think you should start coming to meetings early,” he panted. The only response you could muster was a nod, and an attempt to bring his lips back to yours. He pulled back against your request, and much to your dismay the wicked smirk was back on his face, “Y/N, are you a virgin?” You were taken aback by the question, you backed away from him and grabbed the bottle on the floor. You forwent the shot glass and just took a long pull from the lip. He watched you down the burning liquid before nodding, “So that’s a yes,” he settled back against the dryer and watched you flounder.

“You don’t know that!” you stood up, feeling wobbly on your feet, “Maybe I’m just being a lady”

“Woah,” he stood up and wrapped his arm around your waist in an attempt to steady you, “but it doesn’t really matter, I trapped you, even a nonanswer would have told me what I wanted to know, I won and you know it.” You attempted to hit his chest but the way he was holding you proved it impossible. He maneuvered you to sit back down, “Sit right here, I’m gonna go find your roommate and get you home.”

The walk back to your dorm was quicker than you thought it was, but that could be on account of the alcohol warming your skin. Jeonghan informed you that your roommate had decided to stay the night with Mingyu back at the house so the responsibility of getting your drunk self home fell on him. Serves him right, he’s the one who got you to this state in the first place. Your arm linked with his and his arm around your waist he walked the short trek very carefully, because he truly was not sober himself.

He fished your room key out of your pocket and let the two of you into your room. He blinked to adjust to the lower light, the room was only illuminated by the lamp on your desk that you must have forgotten to turn out before leaving earlier in the night. Moving further into the room he helped you sit down on the bed. On the desk there was a chess board with a half finished game set up. He smiled to himself moving closer to see that the pieces of paper strewn about were the notes you always take during matches with him. You’re replaying matches between the two of you he realized.

“Y/N” he called, tearing his eyes away from the pretty way your handwriting captures his name, “You gotta change.”

“Tired,” you grumbled from the bed. He moved towards you and attempted to pull you up.

“Come on, you can’t sleep in this” he begged, “Fine! Where do you keep your pajamas?”

“Top drawer”

He moved the short distance to your dresser and opened the top drawer. He flushed seeing your undergarments being housed in the same space as your pajamas but he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. He pulled out the first nightgown he found and moved back to you.

“Okay, undress” he was met with protest noises. He sighed and moved to the hem on your shirt, “I’m going to help you and then leave, okay?” he waited for your approval and then began lifting your shirt up over your head. He felt perverted in a way as he watched each inch of your skin come into view and then the clothed swell of your breasts. The situation was in no way sexual and he had no plans to take advantage, but he had never seen you in a vulnerable state before. You were softer than you often let on, something he almost didn’t believe.

He removed the shirt completely and moved to unclasp your bra. He hesitated only slightly before taking the plunge. He removed the piece of fabric and quickly, and unceremoniously shoved the nightgown over your head. Finally, you were dressed for bed and he helped you under the covers.

Soon he heard your soft snores and took this as his signal to leave. Turning out the lamp he pressed his lips to your forehead, hoping it didn’t hurt too terribly in the morning.

“Goodnight, Y/N”

The gentle sting of teeth against your neck paired with the vice grip on your thigh under your skirt almost sent you into a frenzy.

“Jeonghan” you shied away from his mouth, he grunted and chased you in response, “Jeonghan!” you hissed and pulled his hair until his lips separated from your neck.

“What?” he whispered, his eyes heavy and clouded with lust.

“The boys will be here in,” you twisted to check your watch, “Twenty minutes and I would rather not have them distracted by fresh hickies on my neck for the entire meeting.”

“And why not?” he attempted to connect to the spot below your ear again, “They might respect you more if they know you’re getting some”

“They respect me just fine!” you shove against his shoulder, but there weren’t many places for him to go in the small closet. His hand stayed gripped on your thigh.

“Okay, okay” he conceded, taking back his place crowding you against the wall behind you. “You’re tense again” a squeeze to your thigh, “let me help” his hand slowly traveled higher, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

All you could do was nod.

A flash of a smirk and he is wedging his thigh between your knees, “Keep ��em spread” he commanded. His hand continued up and up until - oh - his thumb pressed that delicious bundle of nerves, separated only by the thin cotton of your underwear. He watches your face as you bite your lip, if he was a better man he wouldn’t be doing this in the supply closet, but the promise of seeing you unspool was too delicious. He’ll make it up to you someday, he promises himself.

He started with slow torturous circles, refusing to move the barrier. The touches are too feather light, you resist the urge to rut up against him in an attempt to increase the friction. This didn’t stop the pathetic whine from escaping your lips. “What was that?” Jeonghan teased, increasing the pressure on your clit.

“Please…” you screwed your eyes shut.

“Is this what you want?” he slid your underwear to the side and gathered your arousal on his fingers. Nodding you felt him slip in a finger experimentally. You bucked your hips to meet him, “Eager” he commented nonchalantly. The tightness in his pants reminded him that time was of the essence and he slipped in another finger.

You bit your lip to keep quiet, no matter how much Jeonghan encouraged you to let him hear you. His long fingers reached a spot inside you that you didn’t know existed with ease. You rocked on his fingers, feeling a tightness in your stomach begin to gather.

Jeonghan pulled aside the neck of your sweater to access a new swath of skin untouched by him until now. He sucked a deep bruise just below your collarbone as you felt the snap in your stomach.

The euphoria washed over you in waves and Jeonghan continued his ruminations until you came down from your high. Once you were more lucid, you noticed the gaping neck of your sweater. Your hand flew to where the top two buttons once were and gasped.

“You ripped the buttons off my sweater, you ass”

“Right like I meant to!” he began to scan the cluttered floor for the buttons.

“Well I don’t have the time to go back to change” you gritted your teeth, “This was my favorite sweater” you stormed out of the closet, leaving Jeonghan’s apology to die on his lips. What you didn’t expect was Minghao sitting at the table closest to you, reading. You clutched your sweater, careful to cover your new mark. He tore his eyes away from his book and just looked at you, it felt like he was looking right through you.

You open your mouth to explain yourself but the sound of Mark bursting through the door with Yunho stole the moment away from you. Minghao gave a curt nod of understanding and snapped his book closed. Jeonghan entered the room, clearly trying not to look flushed. You shot him a pointed look and proceeded to sit in front of an empty chess board.

“Pair up,” he mumbled, “scrimmages today” and throws himself into the chair across from you. “Take that look off your face, Dove” you blinked at him, not realizing there was even a look, you were just surprised he was willingly choosing you, in front of everyone. However, if he was going to act like this, you could make the meeting Hell too.

His timer clicked, he made his first move. Jeonghan was going to lose this match, you stretched your legs, leaving your foot next to his. You felt his eyes boring into your skull as you were making your opening. Your timer clicked. Jeonghan laced his fingers under his chin, it would look like he was thinking, but you knew better, he was trying to figure you out this time. He reached to move his knight and you trailed your foot up his leg, disrupting his trousers. Placing his knight down with a definitive thunk he looked up at you with widened eyes.

“Your timer, Jeonghan” you smirked. Click. Jeonghan watched your subsequent move, trying desperately to ignore the tightness in the crotch of his pants. You played it safe for a majority of the game, letting Jeonghan believe that you were the one distracted by your nonsense. You let him have some meaningless captures.

His fingers weren’t drumming on the desk, he felt confident. You captured his bishop. You could easily have a checkmate within four or five moves. You brought his bishop to your lips and hit your timer. You looked at him from under your lashes and waited.

Jeonghan watched the white piece rest against your pretty lips, what was wrong with him? You were doing next to nothing but the hardness in his pants was almost painful at this point. His hesitancy was evident,

“I know” you whispered against the bishop, “It’s just so hard” Jeonghan had to bite his lip to keep from whimpering. He made a quick careless move and hit the timer. Smiling, you set the bishop aside and moved your queen into position, “Checkmate.”

“What is wrong with you?”

The only sound in your room was the soft drag of the white bishop you moved across your chess board. Cami was out, probably with Mingyu, as she is most nights nowadays. The game you were playing against yourself was almost finished and you were planning to retire to bed or to do some reading afterwards. Even you had your limit on the amount of chess you could play in a day.

You picked up the black knight thinking to capture a white pawn when there was a knock at your door. Untangling yourself from the position that was comfortable until you thought about it you stretched your legs and padded to the door. You don’t tend to get visitors unless Cami is home so you’re not sure who this could be.

Swinging the door open you see the familiar shape of Jeonghan standing in the hallway, illuminated by the fluorescent lighting. He was dressed more casually than you’d ever seen him, clad in an oversized t-shirt and pair of shorts with the faded logo of what you guessed was his high school hanging off his hips. You fold your arms over your chest, suddenly very aware of your lack of bra.

“Are you stalking me now, Yoon?” he blinked at you a couple times before pushing past you into your room and uttering,

“Do you really not remember?” he sits at your desk in front of the almost finished chess game, “Can I sit here?”

“You already are,” you raised an eyebrow as you took a seat across from him on your bed. Seeing Jeonghan comfortable and relaxed in the low light of your room was strange, but not entirely off putting. Almost as if he belonged here in a way. “Remember what?”

“I brought you home after Seungcheol’s party when Cami ditched you” he studied the remaining pieces on the board. Jeonghan doesn’t know when he started remembering things, like the name of your roommate, about you. He didn’t mind having you in his head, but he wasn’t aware just how often you were on his mind until this moment, seeing you bathed in the lamp light of your room.

“Wait,” your cheeks grew red and you felt the heat in them rise.

“Yes, I changed your clothes, no I didn’t look, but at this point does it matter?” His brown eyes gazed up at you before they trailed down your body, he realized that this is the first time he has seen you in your casual attire since that night.

“Maybe not…” You mumble, “But it certainly did at the time.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes and settled them back on the chess board in front of him. You watched as he moved the rook into position,

“Checkmate” he smirked smugly,

“I played that game myself, don’t think you’ve beaten me because you finished it.” He clicked his tongue disapprovingly at your comment and stood up from the chair and moved toward you. He stood in front of you and tapped your knee, you spread your legs so he could stand between them, you mentally cursed yourself for the automatic response. Moving in between your knees he ran his hands through your hair, he looked down at you, his face softer than you’d seen it in a while. His features were beautiful when he was concentrated and vengeful during a match but the soft moments between were quickly becoming your favorites.

“Hi,” he whispered, he could almost laugh, he felt so boyish. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Han,” you laughed, “you don’t need an excuse to kiss me, if that’s what you’re looking for”

“Okay Ms. Smarty Pants,” he ducked his head to press his lips to yours. What felt like lightning crackled between your lips and into your stomach, he hadn’t touched you let alone kissed you since that day that you teased him at the meeting in front of everyone. Partly because you stopped showing up early, and partly because he was clearly mad at you for the spectacle you caused. He had never anticipated Wonwoo of all people to ask him what that was all about.

A hand trailed from your hair down to your chest. You whined as Jeonghan took a handful of your breast and kneaded it underneath his fingers. He deepened the kiss at the sounds you were making. His teeth grazed your lip as he pinched your nipple between his fingers. His other hand was gripping your bare thigh.

He broke the kiss and grabbed the loose fabric of your nightgown and pulled it up around your hips. Hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your panties he mutters,

“Can we try something?” All you could do was nod in response. He swiftly shimmied the fabric down and onto the floor. “Let me know if it’s too much for you, okay?”

Jeonghan sank to his knees in front of you, his mouth level with your bare cunt. He takes his time sucking deep bruises into your thighs, he was only going to do it once but the sweet noises you made in response were too beautiful to ignore. You felt the sting of teeth on the last bruise, and then the soothing sensation of his tongue. In an attempt to get his long hair out of the way he raked his hand through it and leveled himself with your heat.

He licked the first fat stripe up your cunt, the warmth of his mouth on you was a new and spectacular feeling. He felt all encompassing, you were surrounded by him, and you couldn’t imagine anything better in this moment. He flattened his tongue against you and dragged it through your folds slowly. Your eyes screwed shut at the overwhelming sensation.

His lips wrapped around your swollen clit and began to suck. Jeonghan felt absolutely high on the sounds he was eliciting from you. Slowly, he moved from your clit to your entrance and experimentally dipped inside. You filled the room with quiet moans as he began to pump his tongue in and out of you. The coil in your stomach began to tighten, you bucked your hips up searching for stimulation on your clit. Jeonghan pulled away from you and you shivered at the lack of warmth. He blew lightly into your cunt, a whine getting pulled from your throat.

“Just wait, Dove, I’ll take care of you.” He stood and helped you out of the nightgown the rest of the way. You sat up slightly and reached for his shirt. He looked beautiful with the flush of want on his cheeks and the sheen of you on his chin. He smiled down at you and allowed you to peel off his shirt, “Lay down all the way” he whispered as he pulled off the rest of his clothes. You readjusted on the bed. He crawled on top of you, “Are you okay with this?” You nodded, you let your eyes wander down his body and caught a glimpse of his stiff cock, leaking and angry. The tension in your thighs returned, nervous for this next step.

“Hey,” he whispered, “look at me”, your eyes finding his, “Relax for me, Dove. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to”

“I want to,” you whispered. He smiled softly at you and pressed his lips to yours. He reached down and stroked his cock a few times before lining up at your entrance. You took a deep breath.

“I’m serious this time, you need to relax,” his eyes were dark with lust but ultimately serious. He reached to knead the muscle of your plush thigh. You nodded to show him you understood and tried to release some tension you were holding.

You felt the head of his cock push past your entrance. The feeling was entirely different to what you were used to with his fingers. He moved slowly, scared to overwhelm you. He stayed still for several agonizing minutes, allowing you to adjust to the new sensation.

“You can move now,” you breathed out quietly. He nodded and slowly began to rock his hips. It was almost as if you could feel every single vein dragging against your walls. The feeling was nothing short of intoxicating, you felt so full.

“Oh Dove,” his voice was deeper than you have ever heard it, “you feel so perfect, like you were made for me.” His praises went straight to your core and you couldn’t help but moan. “If you keep,” he grunted, “sounding perfect like that I won’t last.”

He doesn’t. Neither do you. He didn’t expect you to, you don’t last long on his fingers, his cock was a different story entirely. What he didn’t expect was how fast he was spent. He thinks he meant it when he said you were perfect, he fit inside of you just right. Thinking about how perfect you were had him releasing hot white spurts of himself inside of you.

He leaned forward to move the sweaty pieces of hair from your forehead and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You okay, Dove?”

“I’m fab,” you breathed. Jeonghan laughed and slowly pulled out of you. He took a moment to look at your spent cunt, leaking with him.

“Uh, let me get you cleaned up,” he stumbled out of the bed and moved toward your collection of bath towels. He returned with one and helped clean you up. He rummaged through your drawer, retrieved a clean set of underwear and sent you to the bathroom. He got himself dressed and sat on the bed. He ran his hands through his hair.

When you came back you laid back down together. You draped your legs over his. The two of you stayed this way for what felt like hours. You talked about everything, he asked you about your classes, how you’re adjusting to being away from home, and your impressions of the guys in the chess club.

Talking to Jeonghan was easy, much easier than your first impression had led you to believe. Eventually, you fell asleep mid sentence. Cute, Jeonghan thought. He was starting to realize he found most of the things you did cute.

He slipped out of your bed and covered you with the blanket. Before he left he slipped your ruined sweater from where it was draped haphazardly over the foot of your bed. With that, he was out of the room and bounding down the hall.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Turning around you see Minghao jogging to catch up with you. You smile at him as he joins you, “Where you headed?”

“The teaching building,” you jerked your head in the direction of the building.

“Let me walk with you, I’m going to the art building, but I need to ask you about something.” he gestured for you to keep walking. You nodded and began the walk, “So what on Earth are you doing?”

“What?” you raised an eyebrow, “I’m going to class?”

“No” he shook his head, “With Jeonghan” you had to force yourself to keep walking and not stop right there in the middle of the sidewalk and gawk at him, “Oh come on, Y/N I’m not stupid”

“I never said you were,” you shifted your gaze to the ground, “But I have no idea what you’re talking about”

“Yes you do” A telling silence fell between the two of you for a few minutes before you reached the front of the art building. Minghao stopped walking and put a hand on your shoulder, “Listen it’s not my business, but whatever game you’re playing better have a good reason.” he sighed, “I don’t know if you actually like him or what this bullshit is, but be careful,”

“Careful?”

“You’re a threat to him, Y/N” you must look as confused as you feel because he continues, “I’m good at chess, Wonwoo’s good at chess, Jeonghan is great at chess, but Y/N, you’re phenomenal at chess.”

“So?” you protest, “It’s just a club, this doesn’t mean anything does it?”

“The competition season is coming up,” he offered, “You’ll be asked to be on the team by the faculty supervisor, so will Jeonghan, and hopefully me and Wonwoo, but there’s the individual tournament to worry about.”

“Okay?” you huff, “And?” you try to see the point Minghao is making.

“Just…” he sighs, “I’m worried he’s using you. He’s never lost the collegiate division, Y/N” you nodded, taking in what he was suggesting, “You’ve painted yourself as a threat to him winning that title for his last year. That’s why it matters, that’s what he cares about.”

“Isn’t he your friend?”

“Well, yes,” Minghao blinked at you, “Doesn’t that put me in the exact position to know what he might be capable of?”

“If I’m selected, I’ll try my best, win or lose” You assured him.

“I know you will, just be careful, don’t get distracted” He turns toward the entrance of the art building, “And stop using the supply closet, you have more dignity than that” you feel your face heat up and you turn on your heel toward the teaching building.

If anyone could see the great asshole, Jeonghan Yoon right now Mingyu could die happy. He bounded down the stairs and took in the sight of the man himself with a sewing needle snug between his teeth, instead of the usual cigarette.

“Oh you couldn’t be more keen on her, huh?” Mingyu plopped down on the couch next to the sweater Jeonghan had carefully spread over the cushion between himself and the younger man.

“Shut your fucking trap, Kim,” Jeonghan mumbled around the needle.

“She has you sewing,” Mingyu stifled a laugh.

“As if you have room to talk,” Jeonghan ripped the needle from his mouth, “Cami has you just about as tied up,” Mingyu blinked at him, “Oh come on! You don’t need tutoring, let alone from Wonwoo, you’re not in any of the same classes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mingyu attempted to insist but avoiding Jeonghan’s eyes gave him away.

“Obviously you do, Y/N was mad about not being able to play, so you and Cami decided to take matters of my club into your own hands,” he began to thread the needle.

“You could’ve let her play,” Mingyu shrugged watching Jeonghan struggle to find the simplest way to put the thread through the hole.

“She could’ve earned her spot like everyone else” he muttered, “Besides there’s nothing between her and I so there’s no need to compare”

“You made the comparison…” Mingyu pointed out, confused.

“No I didn’t,” the thread made it through the hole in the needle. Mingyu opened and closed his mouth, not sure what his friend was getting at. Jeonghan claiming that there was nothing going on between you and him was almost laughable, but Mingyu knew better than to voice this, as he valued his life. So instead he settled to watch Jeonghan skillfully sew the pearlescent buttons back on to your sweater.

Mingyu also knew better than to ask what happened in the first place. He knew that Jeonghan had his own way about things, and this was more than likely an apology of some kind. If Mingyu Kim was a far stupider man he would point out the fact that Jeonghan never denied that this was your sweater.

You could hear the other members of the chess club before you even saw the door to the meeting room, there was an excited buzz spilling out into the hallway. As you closed in on the room you saw a paper hanging up on the closed door.

“1963 Collegiate Chess Championship: University of Michigan

Yoon, Jeonghan

Xu, Minghao

Jeon, Wonwoo

Y/L/N, Y/F/N

Congratulations and good luck!”

That’s your name, you’re on the team. You thought Minghao was potentially exaggerating when he was predicting the team but he was right on the money. Something akin to anxiety bubbled in your stomach, what if you lose? What if you win?

Walking into the room Minghao smiled at you, Wonwoo gave you a thumbs up, and Jeonghan was simply staring at you He couldn’t deny that he was scared of your placement on the team, when it came for the individual matches you potentially have him beat, he needed to play his best set of games in his career.

You took your usual seat at the table you share with Wonwoo and Minghao. Jeonghan’s eyes bored into your skull as you set up your board. Was Minghao right? Did he do all of this as a distraction? Were you really that big of a threat to him? You knew the answer, but that didn’t stop the seeds of doubt from sewing in your mind.

“Congrats teammate!” You heard the smile in Wonwoo’s voice before you saw it.

“Congratulations, Y/N.” Minghao smiled at you as he took his seat next to Wonwoo, “A force to be reckoned with, as always.”

“Thank you both,” you smiled, “congrats to you as well.” You stole a glance in Jeonghan’s direction, he was still staring. He was quick, he saw your eyes, and knowing he got what he wanted he slowly licked his lips and turned back to the board he was setting up with Mark.

Your blood boiled in your veins, Minghao had to have been right, he’s so cocky even with no wins against you under his belt. He must have been banking on you losing your composure, now and at the competition, so you determined right then that you would not allow it. You began to slam the white pawns into their places, earning you sideways glances from your tablemates.

Wonwoo pulled the black pieces out and tried to match your pace, knowing that your patience has run out, for Jeonghan Yoon related reasons he’s sure. The meeting is spent by you beating the boys in a variety of ways and shooting angry glances at the back of Jeonghan’s head. Jeonghan was stealing his own looks in your own direction under the guise of “keeping an eye on the games”. A few times he catches you looking at him, he attempts to soften your face to no avail.

After watching Wonwoo deliver a final checkmate to Minghao, you shot out of your seat and attempted to flee the room as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, Jeonghan had other plans. He caught your arm and pulled you to face him.

“Congratulations,” he said softly after he made sure everyone was out of the room.

“Likewise,” you bit, “is that all?” Jeonghan blinked at you, clearly confused.

“What’s wrong?” He asked earnestly, “Aren’t you excited?” You couldn’t tell if he was truly confused or if he was acting again.

“I am,” you nodded, “what do you need? Or can I go home?”

“Right,” his lips pressed into a tight line, clearly no longer in the mood for whatever you decided you were mad about. He pulled his messenger bag to his front and pulled out a bunch of fabric. “I fixed this for you,” he held it out in front of him. You took it gingerly and unfolded it so you could look at what it actually was. The sweater he ruined a few weeks ago. A swooping feeling in your stomach took hold, something between tenderness and anger. You chose anger.

“Oh so you’re stealing from me now?” You snapped.

“What?” He hissed, “I fixed it for you!” He pointed at the top two buttons he carefully sewed back on. He looked like a petulant child if you weren’t seething you could laugh.

“You still stole from me!”

“Y/N you’re missing the point on purpose!” He whined at you, “I wanted to fix my mistake!”

“By making another mistake.” You turned and walked out the door and all Jeonghan could do was stare after you. For once he was at a loss for words.

You’re in over your head, you have to be. You have never felt so unprepared for a set of matches in your life. The day was going to be full, only breaking for lunch and then your schedule thinning out God willing that you get to participate until the finals.

You smoothed your hands over the new outfit you scrounged up money to buy for the occassion. The blouse is pretty, but the main focus is the new trousers. You have never worn pants to a big event before, and you’re nervous for the reactions of the men downstairs. Determined to exude confidence even when you were scared out of your mind you took deep breaths and practiced looking tough in the mirror. You could not, however, forget how out of place you felt at this moment.

You check your watch and mutter a curse under your breath. Snatching your notebook off the hotel bed you tossed and turned in the entire night you bounded out the door. Once downstairs you snaked through throngs of people, picking up bits and pieces of conversations about chess strategy.

You spotted Wonwoo’s head above various members of the crowd and made your way to him and where you assumed Minghao, Jeonghan, and your faculty advisor were as well. Your fingers wrapped around Minghao’s arm and he turned to you quickly.

His eyes lit up seeing it was you, “Y/N, hi” he smiled down at you.

“Hi Hao,” you wiggled through the last of the crowd and up next to him, “did I miss anything?” you look around at the people, trying to spot Jeonghan.

“No, we’re just waiting for table assignments,” he pointed toward the window, “he’s over there.” You followed his gesture and saw Jeonghan talking with the faculty advisor. He looked almost ethereal silhouetted against the window, cigarette delicately perched in between his fingers. You watched them talk for several minutes before you saw an official post a list on the wall opposite you. Jeonghan noticed as well, extinguished his cigarette, and excused himself to look at his table assignment.

The competitors funnelled into a line to check where they will be starting the day. You shuffled in behind Minghao, Jeonghan tucked in behind you. He was trying his best to ignore the new outfit and how good you happened to look in it as the line slowly moved. Minghao quickly found his name and moved out of the way for you to scan the document. You felt Jeonghan pressing against you slightly, clearly impatient and looking over your head. His hand hovered awkwardly over your hip, he ached to touch you even just casually.

Locating your name and your table you exited the line, leaving Jeonghan’s hand hanging in the air before he dropped it. He followed after you silently. Several other competitors were whispering about your outfit, he could hear them plainly even if you couldn’t.

The thing about Jeonghan Yoon was that his reputation proceeded him. Every person in this building knew who he was and what he came here to do today. This type of reputation comes with a healthy respect and a bit of fear. So the dagger-like glances he shot these stupid men were not to be questioned. To their knowledge it was because you were his teammate, none of them were aware of the affection he held for you.

You broke away from your team in order to find the first table, your opponent already sitting on white’s side. Holding your hand out for him to shake you could tell he was cocky, he rose to take your hand. His handshake was firm, an obvious attempt to scare you. Only you weren’t scared anymore, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. The environment was different but the game was the same, and you were one of the best.

The officials signaled for the beginning of the round and you watched as your opponent contemplated his first move. He selected a safe opener; for the first round and knowing nothing about your opponent this was a respectable choice. You tend to play it safe as well, opting for your classic attempt at a queen’s gambit. The match went uneventful for the first several moves, the only sound in the room was several timers clicking at different times. Some players were faster than others, and you were attempting to take your time and not get cocky.

The same could not be said about Jeonghan across the room. He was the epitome of confidence, as he has been every year since he won the first time. Freshly 19 and on top of the world. He always felt like the first win was some unbelievable stroke of luck and then he just continued to win. He realized quickly that he enjoyed winning, almost more than he liked playing the game itself. Maybe that makes him cocky, but he didn’t care. He was making quick work of his first opponent, he was confident and playing defensively. He clicked his timer and watched the man on the other side of the table panic under his gaze.

Jeonghan watched as the man moved his rook across the board. He leaned forward, seeing now that the opponent’s king was unprotected. Jeonghan moved his knight.

“Checkmate.”

Your timer clicked as you gently pressed the button. The man across from you looked perplexed as the board was dominated by your pieces. He figured that this would be an easy win for him, figuring that your university stacked the team so that Jeonghan would have an easier time winning. He was wrong, and everyone else in the room would soon find out if he didn’t find a way to save his own ass and soon. He moved his bishop across to prevent you from queening your pawn on your next turn. His timer clicked. No matter, that bishop was the last piece protecting his king from your rook.

“Checkmate.”

Your name was on everyone’s lips as you moved to your next table. It was almost annoying, all you did was win one game against someone who needed a lot of practice in your opinion. They could start whispering when you were at least in the semifinals. If that first game was any indication on how the rest of the day would go it would be easy to get there. You knew Jeonghan was faring well, because once people were done talking about you they were talking about him.

You took your place on the white side of this board as you were at the table far before your next opponent. Jeonghan watched you from his side of the room, smiling to himself that you won your first match. He slipped a cigarette between his lips and brought his lighter to the end. He dragged on his cigarette as he watched his next opponent take his seat.

Jeonghan lost track of you at some point over the next several hours, as the matches became a bit more difficult he felt the need to focus. While he wanted more than anything to know how the rest of the team was faring, he had to win. This was his last chance, what no one knew was that he was declining the faculty advisor’s offer to continue his career after graduation. He was getting his degree for a reason, and for him the reason was to move on from this part of his life. So finishing with four consecutive collegiate championships under his belt would be great. Only problem here was, unfortunately, you.

You beat Minghao again right before lunch. Things were going incredibly well, much to your surprise. Minghao shook your hand, his smile almost cracking his face. The two of you walked toward the conference room where the complimentary lunch was set up. Jeonghan and Wonwoo were already seated at a table in the corner.

“The sophomore from Clempson” Wonwoo mumbled as Minghao and yourself joined them at the table.

“What about him?” You asked as you reached for the water in the middle of the table.

“Beat me in round four,” Wonwoo sighed, pushing his food around his plate.

“Oh so you’re both out?” You looked between Minghao and Wonwoo, “What about you?” You asked, turning to Jeonghan. Jeonghan shook his head,

“I’m still in,” he turned to Minghao then, “Who got you?” In response, Minghao smirked and pointed a finger at you. Jeonghan’s eyes followed in the direction he was pointing. He tried not to smile and pushed away from the table. You don’t miss the roll of Minghao’s eyes as he watches Jeonghan walk out of the conference room.

“I’ve heard about you,” your first opponent after the lunch break spoke over confidently as he sat down across from you. “A girl at this competition is asinine.”

“Well, I made it just as far as you so far,” you opened your notebook, “and I have heard nothing about you so might as well get this over with.” You brought your eyes up to his, refusing to back down. The man across from you scoffed at your bold reply.

“God are all of you people from U of M like this?” He rolled his eyes, “A bitch and a bastard, you and Jeonghan.” You could punch him, him and his smug face. You bit your tongue to avoid getting yourself in trouble, if you didn’t beat him, Jeonghan certainly would.

The match was quick, he was careless and sloppy, letting the delusion of confidence brought on by sexism carry him to a loss. You thrusted out your hand for him to shake.

“Thanks for the practice,” you smiled, glancing down at your hand. He walked away without taking it. You let your hand drop to your side, trying and failing to hide the fact that you were upset by his words.

“This is my next table,” you heard Jeonghan’s unusually timid voice at your side.

“Oh,” you shuffled to the side, “I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong?” He blinked at you, “Did you lose?”

“No, obviously not,” you looked toward him.

“Okay,” he chuckled, “then what happened?”

“He called me a bitch, and you a bastard.” You mumbled.

“He called you what?” Jeonghan’s eyes wildly searched the room.

“A bitch, but he also called you a bastard.” You reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he gestured vaguely, “that’s not the point.”

“Drop it, no big deal, I knew this would happen,” you shook your head, “it always does.” With that, Jeonghan watched you walk toward another table. He sighed and sank down into the chair that you just vacated.

Jeonghan was distracted for the rest of his matches, did he make you feel that way? He was sure he did, that first meeting you attended. The difference was that he seemed to light a fire with his comment, whereas this asshole dampened your spirits. Jeonghan could rip his face off, your confidence was one of the best parts of you.

He sighed, moving his bishop across from his opponent’s king.

“Check.”

The man moved his king one space to the left. This allowed Jeonghan to move his rook to trap the king.

“Checkmate.” He muttered, raising from his seat, ignoring the other man’s outstretched hand. He misses being challenged, namely by you, but he won’t admit that to himself just yet. He wandered toward the front of the room, trying to waste time before his next table opened. He caught sight of your concentrated face. He leaned against the wall across from your table and watched the end of your match.

You won, of course you won.

“So your semi finals match against Ms. Y/L/N will start in 20 minutes at the table towards the front.” An official interrupted his thoughts.

“What?” He tore his eyes away from you. “Semi finals is this round?”

“Yes, you and Ms. Y/L/N will begin in about 20 minutes,” he repeated gesturing to the table. Jeonghan didn’t stick around to chat.

“Y/N,” he snaked through people, “Y/N!” He caught your arm, and placed his hands on your shoulders. He was smiling.

“Jeonghan,” you nodded trying to ignore the feeling of electricity coursing through you.

“We’re paired for the semi finals”

“I am aware,” you smirked. Your last match had given you the confidence to let your smug attitude reemerge.

“Dove, please, nothing funny, just a straight up and down match,” he searched your eyes.

“Oh, Jeonghan, this is too important.”

“Thank you, I agree,” he exhaled.

“I need you to lose all on your own, not because I turn you on”

You watched Jeonghan fiddle nervously with his fingers from across the table. He was trying, and failing, to keep cool. On the other hand, you kept eerily calm, you always prided yourself on your ability to seem unaffected by the situation at hand. The breakdown earlier was a mistake you made in front of Jeonghan, one you wouldn’t be making again now.

Once you were given the go ahead you began your opener. Jeonghan felt his stomach drop watching your first several moves, you ditched the queen’s gambit, you weren’t playing safe. He had no idea how to handle this. You watched his fingers falter just slightly, you knew he was freaking out. He might know your game well, but you knew him. He was absolutely out of his depth.

The two of you were well matched, eliminated participants gathered around your table. People who didn’t know your name before today were watching in awe as you made moves that stunned even the man who’s name was on everyone’s lips before he even entered the building that morning.

He knew you could play circles around him, that wasn’t the question anymore, he knew you were better than him. That fact made him furious, and he had to figure out a way to beat you, and quickly because you pressed the button on your timer after claiming his second rook. His fingers twitched and he resisted the urge to make an uncalculated move. He could get a check right now, but he knows it’s flimsy and you could get out of it easily. He settles for capturing your first bishop. You always liked to use your bishop.

You calculated possibilities in your head, and then you saw it. You dragged your queen to the center of the board, leaving Jeonghan no choice.

“Checkmate,” you whispered, you weren’t sure if anyone but him heard you. The moment seemed to freeze, you didn’t dare breathe, just in case Jeonghan shattered in front of you. After what felt like an eternity he dragged his eyes from the queen to your wild eyes.

He rose to his feet and walked out of the room wordlessly. The crowd was silent as you watched him go. Jeonghan Yoon, the reigning champion, was just defeated by a freshman, on his own team. No one knew what to say. You didn’t know what to say, in all honesty. You just sat there, watching the door, willing him to come back, but he never did.

Minghao broke through the crowd and grabbed your shoulders.

“You did it,” he breathed, “Come on.” He pulled you out of your chair. He congratulated you profusely as he held your hand and dragged you back to your room upstairs. “Rest, recuperate, finals begin in a few hours.”

“Make sure he’s okay, Hao,” was all you could muster before closing the door and flopping yourself onto the bed.

“Stop pacing, you're going to wear a rabbit trail into the floor,” Minghao muttered watching you continue your ruminations back and forth.

“What if I lose?”

“Then you lose, that doesn’t take away the fact that you made it this far, beating the reigning champion to do it.” He sighs. You nodded, still not sure if you were okay with coming this far and losing. Minghao watched your opponent approach finally and wrapped you into a hug, “Good luck,” he whispered into your hair before letting you go and taking his place in the crowd next to Wonwoo. Jeonghan was still strikingly missing.

You shook your opponent’s hand and took your seat. The match started quickly, and rather unceremoniously. It almost put your nerves at ease that there was no fanfare, just a straight up and down game just as you had been playing all day.

The match quickly sucked you in, it was as if the rest of the room melted away. The man across from you was good, almost as good as Jeonghan. He was lucky that Jeonghan was paired with you in the semi finals, because you would have a different opponent right now if that weren’t the case. However, this would end up working in your favor, you’ve never lost to Jeonghan, so why would you lose to someone worse?

When you captured both of his knights he knew it was over, he didn’t let it show, but he knew. He knew that you had dissected his game as you were playing him, which was the smartest strategy a player could use. If you were smart enough to watch, learn and adjust as you were playing, you knew exactly what you were doing.

He was almost honored when he heard you squeak,

“Checkmate.” He held out his hand and you took it.

“See you next year, Y/N” he smiled. “Don’t expect it to be an easy rematch.”

“I would never assume anything would be easy,” you smiled back at him, “thanks for the game.” You turned back to the crowd for the first time since the match began. Immediately you zeroed in on someone that wasn’t there when it started. He was smiling widely. The officials prevented you from leaving your table. They spoke to you but none of it registered with you, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jeonghan.

“Smile,” he mouthed to you. Camera flashes explained what he meant quickly, and you turned to smile at them while the officials were talking with reporters. Eventually, everything settled down and you were able to find Jeonghan leaning against a wall near the window. He once again had a cigarette lazily perched in his fingers.

“You came,” you called to him as you approached. His eyes lit up as he saw you and he reached out to smush the cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

“Of course I did,” he wrapped his arms around you, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Girls not only can play chess, but they absolutely should, they’re smarter than all of us anyway.” You couldn’t help but laugh, the most freeing feeling after the insane day you had.

“Finally, you see it!”

“Oh shut up, we both know I’m stupid,” you didn’t even have time to agree before he was tilting your head up to give himself access to you. He pressed his lips to yours, a continuation of the apology, showing everyone in the room how proud he was of you and not caring at all who sees anymore.

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hermesserpent-stuff · 1 month ago

Text

more thoughts about creeds intro for brotherhood gambit au

Creed is tired and hungry. He claws his way out of the ditch and snarls a bit to himself. Magneto owes him. Big time. That mission was far more complicated than the man had promised. And he had ended up in a ditch! Dead if not for his powers. Creed had gotten done what he needed to be done. The dried blood is proof of that.

He starts walking.

And walking.

Walking.

Then Magneto fails to show where they are supposed to meet. Anger flares. He moves on, growling deeply.

Creed stumbles to the building that he knows Magneto had been sending teens. He needs to report in about the last job and recuperate some strength.

He bangs on the door, flicking a bit of mud onto the front stoop. It splashes over the welcome mat.

The door opens and a teen stares up at him. There is a flash of recognition there. Red eyes widen and then blink.

“Bonjour? Why’s the infamous Sabretooth drippin’ mud on my doorstep?”

The teen asks, head tilting.

“I'm looking for Magneto. Have some things I need to settle with him.”

The kid hums.

“In. It's cold out here, monsieur. And I got chili on. Come on.”

The kid settles, pulling the door wider. Creed comes in and settles at a table he is lead to. The house smells vague of water damage and cleaning products. The teen putters about the kitchen spooning out a bowl. He glances at Creed and then spoons a second bowl. Both are settled in front of Creed, along with some water. Creed starts eating, ignoring the spoon, simply tilting the bowl into his mouth. The teen settles in a chair opposite.

“‘Neto ain't here. Never comes round. Not regular like anyways. Now, Mystique will be back tonight. She comes by to eat dinner, and leaves if she don't like what I be cookin’.”

The kid scrunches his nose in offense at the last sentence. Creed growls. The teen plops another bowl in front of him.

“Not Remy's fault our fearless leader hides away all the time. Talk to Mystique. She sees him more often than the rest of us. Now. Imma fill the tub and heat it. You can keep on eatin’ till you're good. Then you gonna take a warm bath and settle in for waitin’.”

Remy says calmly. Creed tilts his head and decides that this is probably his best option.

“Fine.”

“Good. Pots yours. Been told you eat a lot. I'll have to make… somethin’ else for Toad and Blob. They can handle sandwiches for now. I'll go draw the bath monsieur.”

The teen nods to himself and trots off.

Creed feasts, the taste of the food heavenly to his empty gnawing stomach. When he goes upstairs he finds Remy withi his hand in the water reading a text book. The kid looks up at him and shakes out his hand.

“Its pretty hot now. Pipes don't make no heat so you wont get any more hot water from them. Desole monsieur.”

The kid states and then stands.

“I dont think any of the clothes in the house gonna fit you. Not that youd wanna wear any teens clothes.”

Remy says with a nose scrunch, looking at the muddly clothes. He then snaps his fingers.

“We do got somethin’! Big ol’ sweater and pants. Ill grab them and trade your stuff so I can clean up your duds.”

“You’re a regular old housewife aren’t you.”

Creed states and Remy rolls his eyes.

“Someone has to ensure the guild’s form of xenia is followed.”

Remy huffs. And then cocks his head to the side.

“And I don't wanna clean up mud from all over the house monsieur. Now! Let's get a movin’!”

Remy claps his hands together and trots out of the room. Creed shifts off the clothes and sinks into the warm water. A sigh comes unbidden from his mouth as he relaxes. He draws the curtain and closes his eyes. He hears Remy renenter and the shifting of cloth. Then the door closes again with a firm click. He slips a little more under the water. After a moment he starts running his hands through his hair. He finds soap that doesn't smell awful and scrubs at the dirt and blood.

It is a little relaxing to be able to get all the gunk off. When the water get cold he pulls himself out and dries off and slips into the provided clothing. He walks back downstairs and finds Remy facing off with a crouched teen.

“What I tell you about shoes on my counters t’crapaud??! I can't keep cloroxing them. I know that you like jumpin’ up mais, not my counters!!”

Remy rubs at his face looking like a tired mother. The teen looks like he is about to say something when he spots Creed. He jumps up and onto Remy who causally catches him like its nothing.

“AHH! Yo! Whats the kitty doin’ here???!”

Oh. Toad. He had seen him at a fight before. Its one of Magneto’s drafted teens.

“T’crapaud. Petit brigand, dont be rude! Man’s a guest. Now, scoot. He goin’ to the livin’ room and your gonna wipe down my counters so I can make your dinner.”

Remy gently puts the teen down and shoos him off. Toad looks at Creed with huge eyes and Creed gives a small growl and the kid scampers. Remy turns on a dime, eyes sparking.

“Non! You be a guest and you dont be growlin’ at mon petits. I will extend my hospitality, mais if you gonna spit in the face of it, I will not hesitate to show you how Guild treats enemies invading the house.”

Creed tilts his head and then nods.

“Got it. Won't hurt anyone while here.”

He says with a shrug. He won't promise to grow or hiss. It's his nature. Remy nods and then waves his hand.

“Livin’ room this way. None of the spare rooms are made up yet. I'm workin’ on it. But for tonight you got a couch. Desole.”

“Eh, it's better than a ditch.”

Creed says with a shrug and plops himself down on the couch. He stretches out with a yawn.

“Fair. I'll keep the others outta here. Get some sleep grand chat.”

Remy tosses a blanket over him and Creed blinks.

“Quoi? Need more?”

The kid asks and tosses another blanket over him. Creed lets out a confused murp and Remy walks off.

Creed wakes up several hours later. He can tell that it is past midnight. He gets up and slinks over to the kitchen. Surprisingly he finds Remy there, spreadsheets layed out with assorted bills and coupons strewed about. Remy looks up from the pile and a red flush flickers over his face.

“Oh, ah, sorry. Mystique never came, so I let you sleep.”

Remy has puffy eyes and Creed can smell salt. But there is no tremor from tears in his voice.

“Gotcha. Got anymore to eat?”

Creed asks and remy breathes.

“No more meat. Chili was the last of the chicken. There is a bone broth, but just some. Id… there wont be anymore meat in the house for a few days at least. Its too expensive.

Creed notes the kid fiddling with the papers and swipes them up.

“Hey!”

“Jesus kid, do you run the whole budget of this joint?”

He asks, looking over the expenditure columns written in freakishly neat hand writing for someone that is definitely not legally able to drink or be this responsible. He sees a few sticknotes penciling in estimated costs for repairs around the house and what priorities things had.

“I-... it started out as just the groceries. Mais I noticed… well, someone has to do it. And Mystique’s to busy bein’ the principal to look after us.”

Creed puts the papers down, thoughts quickly flashing through his head. The kid had treated him better than most strangers ever had or would. And he did eat all the chili on his own, where it could have fed the teens of the house twice over.

“Can you cook animals if they are freshly killed? I like hunting and I like eating.”

The kids eyes have no right looking that hopeful when aimed in his direction.

“Oui! I can cook just about any meat. If you show me how to skin and carve up the stuff I aint dealt with before, this cajun cook anythin’ you drag back!”

Creed hums.

“Yeah. alright. I can show you a few tricks for carving up meat. Ill go hunting tommorrow some time.”

“Maybe a bit later in the day, so its not dead for hours while Im in school? I can give you the schedule!”

The kid looks genuinely excited. Its… novel. Most people got grossed out at the mere thought of him dragging a kill home. But here this kid is, basically begging for it.

“Yeah. sure. Means I get to sleep more.”

“Oui! Oui! Though, Imma wake you for breakfast. We having pancakes. And coffee. Dont want a guest hungry while Im away.”

#gambit #brotherhood gambit au #hermes speaks #sabretooth #victor creed #remy lebeau #x men evolution

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daisynik7 · 1 year ago

Note

“Earned it” by The Weeknd for Levi Ackerman- Smut + Fluff

thank you

Earned It

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~7.0k

cw: yakuza au, modern setting au, adult themes, gang-related violence, mentions of blood, explicit language, fluff, smut – fingering, cunnilingus, PIV sex (doggy style), cream pie, unprotected sex

Summary: Levi is the current leader of a Yakuza organization called the Ackerman Clan. Fearless, ruthless, cold-blooded. Your deadbeat father owes a debt to his Uncle Kenny after borrowing a sum of money to gamble on horse races many years ago, a debt that hasn’t been forgotten. He has since abandoned you and one day, the Ackerman Clan tracks you down, claiming that you are now the owner of this debt. Without the means to pay for it out of pocket, Levi employs you to be his personal housekeeper until you’ve earned the money to pay it off.

Author’s Note: Wow okay my first Levi fic EVER and I totally got carried away! I had so much fun writing this one, so I hope the rest of you enjoy it! Thanks for the request for the y2k karaoke party! This gave me the perfect excuse to finally write for Levi. MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune. Thank you for reading! Tagging @crazychaoticizzy!

It's an average Wednesday when you receive a call from your mother in the middle of your workday. She usually doesn’t call unless it’s important, so you answer, already nervous for what she’s about to tell you. “Mom? Are you okay?”

Her tone is somber. “Honey, please come home. Now.” You can hear other people speaking in the background, alarm bells immediately ringing in your head. It’s been you and your mother alone for the past decade now, abandoned by your father before your high school graduation. You have no idea who would be in your home at this time. Freaking out, you ask, “What’s going on? What’s happening?!”

Before she can respond, there’s shuffling, then a man you don’t recognize on the other line. “You should listen to your mother.” His voice is cold, terse, sinister. It sends a chill down your spine.

Immediately, you excuse yourself from work, briefly describing a family emergency to your boss. You hop on the closest train, jittering in your seat, sweating bullets, stomach tight with anxiety. All you need to know is that your mom is safe. As soon as you’re out of the station, you remove the heels off your feet to run home. When you arrive, you notice a black car with tinted windows parked in the driveway and the front door already swung open. Winded and out of breath, you double over with the impulse to vomit, already expecting the worse. You swallow down the urge, collecting yourself, and walk inside.

You’re met by three strangers: two men and a woman. She looks young, gaze cold on yours, studying you carefully. The taller of the men is significantly older, hunched over, lanky, with a cigarette between his crooked smile. The other is short, but his domineering presence seems to overwhelm the rest of them. The cold gaze, the stagnant frown, the tightness in his brows. There’s an aura to him that shows he’s not one to be messed with. Before you can even confirm, you know that this man is the one who spoke to you earlier on the phone. Their leader.

Your mom is seated on the couch, cowering in fear when she calls out to you. “Honey!”

You step towards them, wanting to approach her, but you’re stopped by the woman, staring daggers at you, her hand concealed inside her jacket, ready to attack if necessary. It’s a warning: Don’t come any closer or else. “Mikasa, relax. She ain’t even armed,” the older man says. He points to her, winking at you. “Sorry about my niece; she’s got some anger issues. Runs in the family, actually.”

Without removing her gaze from you, she mutters, “Shut up, Kenny.”

He laughs, puffs of smoke escaping his mouth. He removes the cigarette, tapping the ashes onto the hardwood floor of your living room before stepping closer towards you. “I should be the one upset here.” His eyes scan your figure up and down, smirking. “Right, Levi?”

You shiver from his wicked expression, glancing at your mother who stares wide-eyed at you in a panic. “What’s the meaning of this?” you ask shakily.

The shorter man, apparently named Levi, comes forward, glaring at you. “You owe the Ackerman Clan money. Two million yen with all the interest that’s been accruing for the past ten years.”

“We never borrowed money from you!” you argue.

“You didn’t. But your father did,” Kenny interjects. “The dumbass didn’t know how to gamble on the right horse. Lost each race and came crawling back to me for more and more money. I gave him two years to pay me back without interest, but I suppose he ran off on you and your poor mother before he could pay it. Now, it’s way past due. I need my money back.”

That no-good, deadbeat father of yours. Of course he’s the one behind this. He’s always had a gambling addiction, ever since you were little. Borrowed money left and right from distant relatives, friends, coworkers, and apparently strangers. You thought he’d at least have the decency to pay them off on the occasions he actually scored big, but who are you kidding? All he spent his winnings on was more booze to drown out the fact that he never cared or provided for his family. You shake your head, tears welling in your eyes. “You should be asking him for the money, not us.”

Levi’s eyes narrow. “You don’t think we already tried looking for him? We can’t find him. He’s gone. Someone else has to be responsible for it now. And that means his wife and his kid. You.”

“We don’t have that kind of money just laying around,” you say, hoping that somehow, this Yakuza gang is nice enough to forgive the debt.

Kenny barks a laugh. “Well, you’re shit out of luck then, huh? Just like your lousy father.”

You wince at his harsh words, simultaneously agreeing with him. Levi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “If you can’t pay off this debt within the next three months, we’ll be forced to take more severe action.”

“What do you mean?” you stutter. A variety of cruel punishments flash through your head, causing your knees to wobble in fear, though you manage to stay upright.

“You don’t want to find out,” he threatens with a dark look.

You swallow loudly, unable to hide your dread any longer. Crying, you fall to your knees in a begging position, peering up at Levi with weepy eyes. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt my mom. Leave her out of this.”

Your mother sobs into her hands, your name muffled against her palms. Even through your blurred vision, you notice Levi’s expression waver just the slightest.

“Maybe she can work for you,” Mikasa suggests. Her tone has changed to one of sympathy, unexpectedly considering her intimidating demeanor moments ago.

Levi scoffs. “And what would she do for me? I doubt she can fight.”

There’s a pause as you watch them contemplate your fate. Kenny is the first one to offer an answer. “Housekeeper. She can be your housekeeper!”

Levi grimaces at the suggestion. “Excuse me?”

Kenny walks towards him, ruffling his nephew’s hair, much to his dismay. Levi swats him away, scowling as his uncle explains, “You spend so much goddamn time cleaning your own house, it’s about time you hire someone to do it for you. You’re the leader of the Ackerman Clan now. Time is money. You can’t be wasting it dusting when you can just make someone else do it for you.” He squats, legs spread wide, meeting you face-to-face. “Can you clean?”

You wipe away the tears streaming down your face, nodding.

“Can you cook?”

You nod again, more confidently this time.

He slaps his knee. “Well, there you go! Looks like we found the solution. You’re hired. Levi will pay you at the end of each day. Your wages after three months should be enough to cover the debt you owe me. If you work overtime, you’ll earn extra cash. Sound good?” He sticks his hand out, waiting for you to shake on it.

Three months of housekeeping and cooking for the leader of a Yakuza gang, who already looks like he despises you? It’s either that or whatever punishment he originally has in mind, which sounds much more painful and ominous.

Before you agree, you ask, “What about my regular job?”

He strokes his chin, thinking. “Damn, forgot about that. Well, Little Levi here can compensate you for that as well. You’ll have to quit it in the meantime, but this gig is much better, don’t cha think?”

Levi raises his voice, angry now. “Don’t I get a say in this?! Who said I have the money to pay her?!”

Kenny waves him off, smirking. “You don’t drink, you don’t gamble, and you don’t fuck. So what else are you doing with all that money?”

At this, Levi gapes at his uncle, blushing. “I’m the fucking captain here, aren’t I? I won’t allow this.”

Kenny rolls his eyes, standing up to stretch his back. “Fine. Got a better idea? We don’t have all fucking day to argue about this, you know.”

After a few more disgruntled huffs from Levi without any other real suggestions, you are officially hired as Levi Ackerman’s housekeeper.

~~~

Levi doesn’t need a fucking housekeeper. He’s the cleanest goddamn person in this entire godforsaken planet. Sure, he spends at least two hours at the start of his morning doing household chores to ensure that everything in his home is spick and span. But what’s so wrong about that? It’s the only solace he finds in this cruel world. The only aspect of his life that he can control.

So, when his new hire arrives to his house seven o’clock sharp the very next day, Levi’s already in a bad mood. And when she smiles brightly at him, greeting him, “Good morning!” in an all-too-cheery voice that drips with enthusiasm and spirit despite the shitty situation she’s in, he can’t help but become even more irritated. She can’t possibly be excited about this. It’s all a façade, an act. Fake. He’s seen it before, from so-called friends, family members, strangers on the street. People only connect with him if there’s something to gain from it. And in this case, the money to pay her father’s debt is her end-goal, and nothing else. He reminds himself that she’s not here for him. No one ever is.

He doesn’t respond to her, turning on his heel to lead her inside. Without saying so, she removes her shoes, tucking them into an empty slot on the shoe rack, following him. Unfortunately, Kenny’s been here since half an hour ago, taking his usual breakfast: a cup of black coffee and a frozen waffle, toasted until lukewarm. And of course, there’s already crumbs on the table, but Levi ignores it, knowing that she’s responsible for this mess now, not him.

“Morning,” Kenny drawls, raising his mug to her. She waves, still nervous around them, naturally, but her smile stays on.

Levi hands her a sheet of paper, typed out with proper instructions. “Everything you need to know is on here. Unless you’re illiterate and can’t read, I won’t need to explain anything to you, right?”

She scans the document quickly, shaking her head at the end. “Seems simple enough.”

“My nephew here likes things spotless,” Kenny adds, spit flying out of his mouth as he chews the rest of his breakfast. “Total clean freak and perfectionist. He’ll be on your ass about a simple speck of dust.”

“It’s not clean if there’s still dust,” he emphasizes.

Her attention goes to the fridge. “What about meals? What do you like to eat?”

“I’m not picky. I usually don’t eat breakfast and lunch is brought to me at the office. So dinner is the only meal you have to cook. Like I said, I’m not picky. But it better not be instant ramen or something. I’m not paying you to feed me that processed shit.” Truthfully, he already eats that junk for lunch, often opting for fast food because it’s quick and easy while he’s out on a job. But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. He shoots a glare at his uncle when he notices him snickering to himself, clearly aware of his less-than-ideal diet.

After a brief tour of the house, not including his bedroom, which will remain off limits, him and Kenny leave to start the day. Levi is reluctant at first, unsure if she can live up to his high standards of tidiness, but even he can admit that it’s more productive when he arrives to their headquarters on time.

The day goes by smoothly; the extra two hours that Levi gains by entrusting another person to his usual morning ritual proves to be beneficial for both him and his gang. They are able to add an extra stop to their daily rounds, collecting owed money from sleezy businesses and seedy underground organizations. They only resort to violence once, with Levi squeezing a man’s head between his shoe and the pavement until he coughs up the dough. In his eyes, today was a good day.

Kenny drops him off back home around eight when it’s already dark out. The lights are on, glowing through the shaded windows. He digs into his pocket for the keys, retrieving them to unlock the door, his nostrils immediately hit with a sensational aroma wafting from the kitchen. Sliding out of his shoes, he steps further inside, following the scent.

She’s leaning over the stove, steam puffing from whatever pan she’s cooking in. He drops his keys on the counter, clearing his throat to make his presence known.

“Hello, Mr. Ackerman,” she says, turning to face him. “Perfect timing. Dinner is just about ready. I’ll serve it to you now.”

He slides a chair out from the dining table, taking a seat, watching as she moves around the kitchen. She scoops white rice into a bowl, then the food onto a plate, setting it front of him. It looks delicious; glazed meat scattered with a variety of fresh vegetables. “It’s chicken stir fry,” she explains. “It isn’t gourmet or anything, but it’s hearty and filling. I hope you like it.”

He remains silent, holding a piece of broccoli at the end of his chopstick, blowing on it before putting it in his mouth. The sauce is savory, pairing well with the typically bland vegetable. He digs into the chicken, enjoying how juicy and flavorful it is. It’s nothing he hasn’t had before, but still; it’s tasty.

She stands beside him, watching him eat with a small grin on her face. “What would you like to drink?”

He swallows, replying, “I like tea. Hot tea. Decaf.”

“On it,” she says, heading back into the kitchen, filling a kettle with water to heat on the stove. Within ten minutes, she returns with a cup in one hand, the kettle in the other, pouring him freshly brewed tea.

It’s quiet, Levi eating peacefully while she continues to observe him. He’s not quite sure what to say; do they make small talk? Does he compliment her cooking? How do people engage with others during a time like this?

Her stomach growls loudly, which he immediately notices. He raises a brow at her, pointing his chopsticks towards the kitchen. “You should eat too. If you’re hungry.”

“Is that alright?”

He nods, looking down at his plate. “It’s better than watching me eat while you’re starving, right?”

She laughs, going back into the kitchen once again. “Yes, of course.” She comes back, sitting across from him to start eating. Not knowing what else to discuss over dinner, Levi asks her about the chores she should have accomplished today, to which she reports back in detail. It sounds as if she went through eat item on the list, though the true test will be when he inspects it himself. Their conversation flows well; he usually hates conversing with people when it isn’t necessary. He can’t remember the last time he shared a homecooked meal with someone else. He’s always at home after work, alone. Mikasa is too busy with her own family, and Levi can hardly stand his uncle’s presence to begin with, so he always preferred being alone.

This, however, this he doesn’t mind. Surprisingly.

Before he gets too comfortable with the idea, he reminds himself once more that this is simply the deal they agreed to. There’s no room for sentimentality. She’s here because she was forced into this role, not because she wants to be here. This is business. This is temporary.

And with that in mind, Levi strengthens the integrity of the walls he barricades around him, determined not to let anyone but himself in.

~~~

Your first month of employment go by as smoothly as you hope it would be, given your circumstances. Every day, you arrive at Levi’s house seven in the morning on the dot, greeting him with a smile. You figured it wouldn’t do you any good to show your fear of the Yakuza in front of the leader himself. And, in all honestly, you weren’t actually that scared of him. While he’s cold and blunt most of the time, he hasn’t done anything to frighten you yet, aside from your initial meeting. It helps that you only see him for a few minutes in the morning when he lets you in, and at most an hour at the end of the day, when you share dinner together. Before you leave, he hands you an envelope with your day’s wages, and that’s that. Based on the lack of criticism, you assume that you’re doing a good enough job.

On the second month, you begin to make lunches for him in addition to your usual routine. Uncle Kenny had mentioned several times in secret that Levi eats fast food because of the convenience. Sometimes, he skips a meal all together when they’re especially busy.

When you arrive to his home, you greet him with your usual smile, while he gives you a curt nod, avoiding your gaze. He shouts behind him, “Kenny, let’s go!”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him, saying, “Oh, Mr. Ackerman! Before you leave, I prepared lunch for you.”

He whips around to face you, eyes narrowed as if you just insulted him. “What?”

Nervous now, you stammer, “I made you lunch. I heard that sometimes you skip meals, so I thought – ”

He steps towards you, glaring, not letting you finish. “This isn’t part of the list. I don’t need it. I don’t want it.” He turns on his heel, leaving you stunned as he heads for the car, slamming the door shut.

You scurry into the kitchen, face hot, reeling over his unpleasant reaction to your simple gesture. Kenny leans back in his chair, feet up on the table, chugging the rest of his coffee. “Morning.”

“Hi Kenny.” You wash your hands at the sink, processing what just happened, growing increasingly upset.

Kenny gets up, sliding his used mug beside you. “Thanks, darling.” Not wanting to waste your efforts, you call out to him, opening the fridge to retrieve the bento you prepared, handing it to him.

“What’s this?” he asks, smirking.

“I made it for Mr. Ackerman, but he doesn’t want it. I don’t want it to go to waste,” you explain.

He smiles, genuinely grateful, the expression you were mistakenly expecting from Levi. “Thank you. Take care.”

When he’s gone, you take a minute in the kitchen to relax, reminding yourself to stick to the list and not do anything extra just because you think he’d appreciate it. You’ve leaned your lesson based on today: Mr. Ackerman doesn’t appreciate anything or anyone. And you won’t be an exception.

~~~

Levi sulks silently in the car with his arms crossed over his chest, staring out the window while Kenny drives them to HQ. He’s replaying the interaction from earlier, recalling the hurt look in her eyes as he spat those harsh words to her. He’s an idiot. All he could have said was no thank you. He shouldn’t have berated her for doing something nice for him. At the same time, he didn’t want to appear vulnerable, like he needed her to do it for him. He doesn’t need her pity. He doesn’t need anyone to take care of him.

He catches Kenny shooting glances at him, but doesn’t say anything, knowing better than to rile his nephew up when he’s in one of these moods. They make it to headquarters as normal, and Levi goes about the day, almost forgetting about the incident. Almost.

Around noon, Kenny drives Levi and two of his henchmen across town to collect money from a client who’s been skipping out on payments recently. Levi doesn’t expect to resort to violence, so he stays inside the car while the two muscles go out and fulfill their orders. Kenny reclines, reaching his long arm towards the backseat, retrieving a small bento box. “Grub time.”

Levi scowls. “What are you doing?”

“Eating lunch, what do you think?” He uncovers it, licking his lips as his picks up a tamago sando from inside. It looks delicious, from the soft bread to the golden yellow filling. Levi’s stomach growls as he stares at his uncle bite into it. “Damn, that’s good!”

“Where did you get that?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

He shrugs, engulfing the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. “Your housekeeper. Said you didn’t want it, so she gave it to me instead. Shit, that’s good!”

Levi huffs through his teeth, annoyed, but also very hungry. He snatches it from his uncle’s lap, inspecting it himself. Kenny doesn’t protest, only chuckles, licking his fingers. It’s truly an enticing sight, much better than the typical burger and fries he’s used to. He picks it up delicately, relishing how pillowy the bread is between his fingers. It’s devoured quickly, and Levi regrets watching his uncle eat part it, hoping he had it all for himself. In the bottom layer of the bento box are baby carrots and sliced cucumbers, which Levi munches on until his crew comes back, knuckles a bit bloodied and a stack of cash in their hands.

At night, Levi enters the door, a pang of guilt in his chest. He doesn’t plan to mention it; he’d rather forget and move on, pretend it never even happened. Tonight’s dinner is yakisoba, a meal she has since perfected since starting a month ago. She serves it to him, pouring hot tea into his mug, then takes her usual spot, her expression neutral. She reports on each task she completed today, starting with the kitchen, where she cleans up whatever disgusting mess Kenny leaves at the table. She scrubs the counters until they’re sparkling, mops the floors, reorganizes the refrigerator, unloads the dishwasher from the night before. Next is the living room, where she vacuums the carpets, dusts all the drawers, wipes each and every appliance with a specialized solution to prevent streaks. Then It’s laundry, and she never mentions the splatters of blood that are sometimes on his dress shirts depending on what kind of day it is. She uses the exact method he uses to wash them until they look good as new, as if he isn’t part of the gang life.

She finishes her list, looking at Levi, waiting for his nod of approval, which he gives. She’s done a decent job so far; in fact, his home looks just as tidy as it did when he spent two hours each morning doing it himself. He stares down at his plate, eating the rest of his noodles in silence.

“Mr. Ackerman?”

His jaw clenches at the sound of his name, anticipating whatever she’s about to say. Without looking up, he mutters, “What?”

She clears his throat nervously. “Earlier today, about lunch. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep my boundaries. I hope you can forgive me.”

He senses her gaze on him, but he’s too embarrassed to meet it, slurping the rest of his food without responding. She doesn’t say anything else, leaving it at that. When he’s done, she gathers the dirty dishes and loads them into the dishwasher, starting the cycle. Levi goes into his room, stuffing her payment for today in an envelope, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Just say it. Don’t be an asshole. She doesn’t deserve it.

She waits for him at the doorway, coat and shoes on, ready to leave. He hands her the money, keeping his grip on it when she accepts it. “You don’t have to apologize. I ate it, and it was delicious. So…thank you.” He looks at her this time, wanting to convey to her that he truly means it.

Her eyes widen, clearly surprised by his sudden change in demeanor. He’s surprised himself; he just couldn’t let her leave thinking she didn’t anything wrong. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “For the way I reacted. I’m not used to people doing things like that for me.” He knows she doesn’t need an explanation from him, but he tells her anyways.

She smiles. “It’s okay. I’m happy to do it. I prepared another one for tomorrow.”

Nodding, he lets go, watching her slide the envelope into her bag. “Goodnight, Mr. Ackerman.”

He opens the door for her. “Levi. You can call me Levi. It makes me feel old when you call me that. We’re around the same age, right?”

She giggles, making his chest swell. “Right. Well then, goodnight Levi.”

He waits until she disappears into the distance, heading to the nearby train station. With the door shut, he leans against it, sighing heavily, his heart beating rapidly.

This is bad.

~~~

On the third month of working as a housekeeper and cook for Levi Ackerman, something extraordinary happens.

You’ve gotten more cordial with each other in the past few weeks, ever since you began making lunches for him on a regular basis. You know he isn’t picky when it comes to food, but you’ve noticed subtle differences when he thanks you for the meal, which he always does now. If it ends in a simple thanks, you know that it was ordinary. If he adds in a compliment, you know that he really likes it. So, you cook more of the foods that he particularly enjoys.

You’re still getting used to calling him by his first name. It still sounds foreign out of your mouth, almost like a treasured word you’re only supposed to say on special occasions. You still mostly call him Mr. Ackerman, though he doesn’t seem to mind.

Other than what you see of him in the mornings and nights, you have no idea what Levi gets up to the rest of his day. It’s an unwritten part of the deal; you keep your private life to yourselves. And, knowing he’s in the Yakuza, maybe it’s better you don’t know.

Tonight, you finish cooking dinner before Levi comes home. You cover the pan, keeping the oyakodon you prepared warm until he arrives, all the plates set up on the counter, ready for him. You sit in your usual chair, checking the clock: 8:30 PM, thirty minutes past his usual time. By nine, you start to worry. And by ten, your finger hovers over his contact information on your phone, tempted to call him, to make sure he’s okay. You debate with yourself for several minutes if you should go through with it. You were given this number only to use for emergencies. Would this be considered one? Surely, he has an entire team of people who look after him, being the leader and all. Why would he need you, his lowly housekeeper, looking out for him?

Deep down, it’s because you care. You care about him. You want him to be happy. And it’s not because he pays you at the end of the day. It’s because you truly, genuinely believe he deserves it. Even in the short time that you’ve known him, it’s plain to see how miserable he is in this life of crime. Dead eyes, permanent frown on his face, tense muscles from having no moment throughout his day to relax. No one, not even a Yakuza leader himself, deserves to be under this much stress.

You’re about ready to dial his number when you hear the distinct jingle of keys from the front door. Levi walks in, hunched over with his jacket tossed over his shoulder, big splotches of blood painted on his shirt. You can see it clearly even from the end of the hallway. He doesn’t greet you, doesn’t look at you, as he drags his feet into the living to plop himself onto the couch, sighing.

“Mr. Ackerman?” you call out, trembling. You’ve never seen him like this before. Is he injured? Or is he the one who did the injuring? Does it matter to you what the answer is? All you know is that you’re concerned about him and you want to be by his side.

~~~

Levi hears her but doesn’t respond. He sinks deeper into the couch, eyes shut, hoping she ignores him, not wanting her to see him in this sorry state. He listens to the sound of her footsteps approaching closer, then feels her sit beside him. With one eye open, he peeks at her, surprised to see her staring at him with genuine concern, a steaming mug of tea in her hands. “Mr. Ackerman,” she repeats.

“What do you want?” he asks tersely. He doesn’t mean for it to come out rudely. Or maybe he does to push her away. He doesn’t want her to witness this vulnerability, this weakness.

“I brought you some tea,” she answers quietly.

Before he can spit out an argument about how the caffeine will prevent him from sleeping, she adds, “It’s decaf, of course.”

He’s speechless for a moment, unable to come up with a smart response. His heart beats against his chest and he’s not sure what’s happening to him. Is he going into cardiac arrest? Or is this something different? Something good? Too exhausted to maintain the same frigid persona he puts up for her, he relaxes, reaching for her hands to grab the handle of the mug. He grazes her fingers wrapped around the ceramic, lingering for a second longer, then brings it to his lips, blowing air across the surface before taking a sip. It’s hot down his throat, filling his tired body with warmth and comfort.

He peeks at her once more, focusing on the gentle smile on her lips. “What are you so happy about?” he asks, taking another sip.

She looks down at her lap, shy now that she’s been called out. “I’m just happy you’re back in one piece.”

He scoffs, displaying his bruised and stained knuckles. “You call this one piece?”

She stares at his hands with terror or fascination, maybe even both. Levi can’t tell. All he knows is that she isn’t flinching away from him like he’s some monster; she leans closer, inspecting it carefully. “Hold on,” she says, standing up to retreat back into the kitchen.

Levi rests his head against the couch, stomach grumbling with hunger. He hasn’t eaten since lunch, and beating the shit out of people takes a toll on him. But the job is done and now he’s home. And for the first time, he realizes how grateful he is not to be alone.

Minutes later, she returns with a tray, carrying a steaming bowl of oyakodon and two warm towels beside it. She sets it next to him on the couch, kneeling on the floor in front of him, beside his knees. He gulps, suddenly aware at how compromising this position may seem. Though, he doesn’t mind it. He slowly reaches over to grab hold on the chopsticks, digging into the bowl of food to take a bite. It’s warm and soothing in his mouth, exactly what he needed.

“May I?” She peers up at him, pointing to his other hand, holding the damp towel.

He’s hesitant at first, aware that she’ll be touching him. This is definitely crossing a line, right? However, the thought of being pampered in this moment when he’s so fucking tired is too enticing to refuse. He stretches his arms out, offering his fist to her. She surrounds him in the soft fabric, rubbing gently between his knuckles, wiping away all the grime from tonight’s violence. His skin is on fire from her indirect touch and he can’t help but wonder what effect she could have on his body if she were actually touching him.

Skin in pristine condition, despite the temporary bruises, she switches to the other hand once he’s finished with his meal. He watches her in silence, holding back a moan, embarrassed at how much he’s enjoying this. She finishes him off with the second towel, the clean one, giving both hands a little massage. “Is that better?”

He nods, muttering a tired, “Thank you.”

She smiles, gaze flickering to the stains on his shirt. “I can wash this for you tomorrow. Just leave it in the laundry room.”

He nods again, unsure what else to say. She gets up, carrying the empty bowl and soiled towels back into the kitchen to clean up. It’s almost eleven now when Levi flips his wrist to check the time on his watch. Trains stop running by midnight, so he shouldn’t keep her here any longer. “You should head home now. It’s late,” he says, loud enough for her to hear. He stands up, slightly limping towards his bedroom to give her the payment. He slides an extra couple of bills to compensate for working overtime. Noticing how horrid he looks with blood all over him, he strips out of his shirt, thankful none of it seeped directly onto his skin. Without thinking, he rushes towards the front door, where she waits for him in her coat and shoes.

He hands her the money. “I’m giving you a small bonus today, just in case you’re wondering why there’s more in there.”

She glances at his chiseled abs before looking down at her feet. Heat rushes into his cheeks, finally aware that he’s shirtless in front of his housekeeper. This is definitely crossing a line.

“It’s okay, I don’t want the extra money,” she says.

“Take it. You’ve earned it,” he insists.

“I didn’t do it for that. I did it because I care about you. I want to - ” She gazes at him, swallowing hard, afraid to finish her thought.

There’s a flutter in his stomach as he steps closer to her, eager to hear it. “What?”

“I want to take care of you, Mr. Ackerman.”

It happens so fast that as soon as he realizes it, his lips are already on hers, kissing her passionately. His immediate reaction is to stop because he’s sure this isn’t what she intended. But when she places her hands on his chest, clinging to his bare skin to deepen the kiss, he can’t resist.

~~~

Clothes are discarded on the way to his bedroom. By the time you’re lying flat on his mattress, you’re both completely naked, him on top of you, caging you between his muscular arms. He kisses your figure, from your neck trailing down to your chest, his lips puckered at your nipple, sucking on it until it’s taut in his mouth. One hand travels along the curve of your hips, then the plush of your inner thigh, until he’s pressed to your throbbing clit. “Can I touch you here?” he asks, his voice low and trembling.

“Yes,” you breathe out, completely enraptured by him.

He flicks your bud with his middle finger, tapping on it until it’s puffy against him. He glides down to your wet slit, collecting your arousal to smear onto your clit, rubbing it faster. Pleasure courses through you as you whine into his mouth, kissing him sloppily. Soon, he slips inside you, pumping two of his fingers in and out of your pussy. You squirm for him, so close to your climax.

“You like my fingers inside this fucking cunt, huh?” he growls into your ear. He pulls out, stroking your clit with his wet digits. “How about here? You like them on your little clit too, right pretty girl?”

Your tongue lolls out of your mouth, eyes glazed over in a daze. “Yes, Mr. Ackerman. Fuck.”

“Levi,” he grunts, circling your bud. “I told you to call me Levi.” He slips back in, pummeling your pussy while his thumb taps on your swollen core.

You grab the bedsheets beneath you, clenching it between your fists, bucking your hips towards him, approaching your orgasm. “Coming,” you manage to whimper, unraveling. He slows his pace, riding it out with you until you relax in his hold, spent and blissed out.

There’s a wild look in his eyes, animalistic almost. He removes himself from you, bringing his wet fingers to your mouth, inching them past your lips. “Taste yourself for me.”

You obey, opening wide for him to swipe your own cum across your tongue. He sticks it further down your throat while you surround him, sucking your slick off. His erection is hard against you, begging for attention. You slide your hand between his thighs, palming at his stiff cock, twitching at your touch.

“Fuck,” he swears under his breath. You start stroking him, his cock hot and pulsating in your fist. He bucks into your grasp, moaning as you rub your thumb over his glossy tip, making him shudder. “You’re driving me fucking crazy, fuck. Get on top of me. Please. Need to taste you.”

You obey, readjusting yourself to straddle his face, lowering yourself carefully until your pressed to his open mouth. “Just enjoy it, sweetheart. You’ve earned it,” he says before lapping you up greedily. You ride his face, dragging your pussy lips across his flattened tongue, moaning when he puckers around you, suckling on your swelling bud. He’s sloppy and noisy, exactly how you like it. You find yourself unraveling quickly above him, convinced you can come just like this, without him entering you at all. He senses this, grabbing firmly to your ass cheeks, guiding you to rock against him faster. “That’s it, princess. Come for me,” he muffles against your skin, slurping at your leaking cunt. No longer able to resist, you moan loudly, reaching your climax, gushing all over his face. He smacks your ass, licking off every drop of your arousal before removing himself from you. “I need to be inside you. Need to fuck this pretty pussy right fucking now.”

All control lost, you whine, “Fuck me, Levi. Fuck me, please.”

He positions himself behind you, dragging your bottom towards him, rubbing his erection between your ass cheeks. “Think you’ve earned this cock? Think you deserve it?”

You nod frantically. “Yes. I’ve been so good.”

He chuckles, guiding himself inside you, stretching you out slowly as he inches his way deeper. “You’re right. You’ve been very good. You are good. So fucking good to me.” He pounds into you, fucking your sweet spot, chasing that high you’re both so desperate to reach. After a few more thrusts, your pussy squeezes around him, coming once more. He follows with his own orgasm, shooting his load inside you, filling you up with his cum.

He pulls out, rolling beside you, breathing heavily. You turn to your side, facing him, your senses gradually returning. He glances at you and breaks into a smile, the first you’ve ever seen from him. “Don’t look at me like that.”

You grin, scooting closer to nuzzle your nose with his. “Like what?”

His eyes gaze into yours, flickering down your lips. “Like you want to kiss me.”

You inch closer. “Why is that so bad?”

“Because I won’t be able to stop,” he whispers, closing the gap, kissing you.

~~~

On her last day, Levi leaves her final payment on the top of his dresser. It’s next to a thicker envelope that she’s collected the entirety of her father’s debt in, ready to hand over to Kenny first thing in the morning. She could have paid it off sooner, a week sooner, to be exact. But she decides to finish the remainder of the month employed as Levi’s housekeeper. She doesn’t explain why, and he doesn’t ask.

They snuggle together in his bed, ready to sleep after fucking each other stupid just minutes earlier. This is another added part of their routine. Sometimes, she leaves to check in on her mother back home. Other times, she stays the night, which Levi prefers, though he won’t admit it out loud. It’s the best sleep he’s gotten in years.

He can tell she’s on the verge of sleep by the way her eyes flutter closed and how her head falls into his chest, relaxed. His mind is racing with thoughts, so he’s wide awake, wondering what tomorrow will hold. Will she say goodbye to him forever? Is this really over? What will he do when she’s gone?

He realizes his true feelings for her almost immediately after they begin sleeping together. He’s never relinquished control to anyone else before. But for him, giving it to her was easy. Maybe because he knew he could trust her. Though, now with her employment coming to an end, he’s not so sure what to think.

“Levi?” Her soft voice surprises him.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

She tips her chin up, peering at him. “Not yet. I want to say something to you.”

He stares at her, confused and anxious, listening. “I care about you, Levi. I don’t want this to stop just because whatever arrangement we had before is over.”

He swallows hard, trying to maintain a neutral expression as his heart races with joy. “So, what then? Do you want to keep being my housekeeper? I already feel weird paying you because of what we do.”

She giggles, shaking her head. “I don’t want to be your housekeeper. I want to be your girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Yes, Levi. Your girlfriend,” she reiterates, smiling.

He lets out a small laugh. “That sounds so normal.”

She cups his face, squeezing his cheeks. “Well, maybe Mr. Ackerman deserves a little something normal for once.”

He chuckles, nuzzling into her touch. “So, how is this going to work, then? You being my girlfriend.”

“Well, I’ll get my old job back. And in the meantime, I can move in here so I can still do all the cooking and cleaning.”

“No,” he interjects. “Together. We’ll cook and clean together. Like a normal couple.”

She beams at him. “Alright. Together it is, then.”

He allows himself to smile completely now, pressing his forehead to hers. “Can it really be this simple?”

“I think it can,” she replies. “It’s worth a shot, right?”

For most of his life, Levi has never had it easy. Thirty years later, he finally has a chance at something normal, something good. Does he deserve it? With her by his side, holding his hand so lovingly in hers, he actually believes it. “Yeah. You’re absolutely right.”

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi aot #levi x you #levi smut #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x female reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #aot x reader #aot fluff #attack on titan x reader #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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risuola · 9 months ago

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ENTRY #9 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I know you're lost, please take my hand.

contents: arranged marriage!au, fluffy — wc. 672

a/n: i wrote it before jjk261, let's pretend the chapter never happened oki? oki.

series masterlist

“When you look at me, what do you see?”

He asked and you hummed.

You were looking at him and his eyes were fixed on you — studying, searching, questioning. Despite the faint light of a candle that danced across his features, the intense blue stood out as beautiful as ever and there was hope lingering inside of it, floating on top of the crystalline surface. You touched his face, his cheekbone and nose. You touched his lips. Your gentle fingers were exploring, admiring, because he was a piece to admire.

His features were neutral, almost relaxed, but there was a shadow of vulnerability that the world didn’t see often. Satoru wore a mask in his life, he learned at the earliest age of his life that emotions are there, bubbling inside his chest and that’s where they are supposed to stay, never reaching outside of his heart. He was taught that weakness is bad, that what he feels inside is not for the others to notice. That fear and love are death. But you—

“I see a boy.”

—you made him want to push the doors that for nearly three decades of his life were closed shut and very carefully locked away. Meticulously, you made your way through the difficult labyrinth of his personality and knocked, and pulled the handle, and rung the bell. You got there and stood, tall and confident, waiting for him to open, determined to see what’s inside.

And he let you.

“I see a boy who’s lost. Who cares so much about the others and so little about himself. Someone, who despite the fearless exterior is petrified to feel, to attach himself to someone, to open up and be vulnerable and weak. When I look at you, Satoru, I see a man who’s carrying a baggage of very difficult events that no person should carry alone and yet, he’s too stubborn to allow anyone’s hand to help him,” you were talking, letting your thoughts out and he was listening. Those eyes, full of blue and sparkles, were fixed on you, on your eyes and lips. He kept your hand to himself, brushing idle circles over your wrist and holding you near his face where your fingers were soothing his skin. “I see a boy that craves touch and love, longing masked as indifference and wit.”

“Perceptive, aren’t you?” He mused, but despite the teasing comment, his voice was soft and gentle, barely above whisper.

“I also see a sweet tooth like no other.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” His chuckle vibrated against the heel of your hand where he pressed his lips. “So, that’s who I am if not the strongest? A lost boy in need of attention?”

“To me, you are Satoru. You are my husband who blushed and got flustered each time I as much as brushed my fingers against you. Who got so lost in your own infinity that a simple touch startled you.”

“I can’t help but feel like you’re teasing me right now but I don’t mind it,” he said, nuzzling into the warmth of your hand and then, his arm wrapped around your middle, pulling you closer until there was no space between you and him.

He exhaled and relaxed, securing his grip around you and he melted with his nose against the top of your head, in your hair. Your breath tickled the bare skin over his shoulder, your fingers found the lines of his back and he wanted more. Satoru felt a rush of warmth shot throughout his body, he could smell your skin, a scent of the tastiest of desserts that filled his nostrils and it sent a shiver down his spine.

You felt perfect in his arms. As if you were meant to be there and your frame was carved out by gods just so you could fit against him like a piece of puzzle.

“You make vulnerability seem less scary,” he whispered into your hair and you hummed softly, allowing him to continue. “And I’m grateful for it.”

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dystopic-view · 1 month ago

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The stranger in my bed

Human Sukuna x fem/afab reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Ryomen Sukuna is a feared tyrant, left wounded after a failed assassination attempt. When you find him, you have no idea who he truly is. To you, he is simply a stranger in need of help. But as you tend to his wounds and his identity comes to light, tensions rise.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: heian era au, fluff, tyrant Sukuna, detailed mentions of blood and wounds, caregiving, treating wounds, wholesome Sukuna???, oblivious reader, minor-paced heat (not exactly a slow burn), bickering, first kiss

𝐖.𝐂: 3.8K

During the Heian era, Ryomen Sukuna’s name echoed through the land, a symbol of both salvation and destruction. To some, he was a fearless guardian, a necessary evil who protected his people through fear. To others, he was a bloodthirsty tyrant, a dictator who ruled with an iron fist. Stories of his violence reached far and wide, stretching beyond Japan’s borders. Whether true or false, these stories fueled the image of him being a ruthless monster. Without Sukuna’s knowledge, his tyranny had sparked the flames of rebellion inside the hearts of the oppressed.

A group of rebels, united in their struggles, set their sights on Sukuna’s downfall.

At the crack of dawn, they attacked with deadly precision, a hail storm of arrows aiming for the heart of the man who had long plagued their land.

But Sukuna was no ordinary man.

He managed to escape death, but not without injury.

One arrow hit its mark, and he stumbled into the forest, clutching his side as blood stained his kimono.

The chill of the winter morning air bit at his skin, his breath coming in ragged pants as he stumbled through the snow.

His strength was failing him, the relentless cold only worsening his agony.

His vision blurred, and before he could stop himself, he collapsed.

The snow crunched beneath him as his body fell limp, his blood painting the ground in scarlet streaks.

The great and terrible Ryomen Sukuna, once untouchable, had fallen farther than anyone had ever thought possible.

You had been walking through the woods, taking a shortcut back to your cabin after a quick run for some herbs from a neighboring village, when the sight of a blood trail against the pristine white snow stopped you in your tracks.

Your gaze followed it until it led to a man.

A stranger, one you hadn’t seen before, lying there on the ground, his chest rising and falling faintly.

“Sir!” you exclaimed, rushing to his side.

Kneeling down, you examined him with growing panic.

An arrow was sticking out from his side, blood seeping from the wound and soaking his clothing.

His face was as pale as the snow beneath him, his features twisted in pain.

His eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open, scanning the forest with paranoia.

“Who did this to you?” you asked, your voice urgent but soft as your hands hovered over him.

His eyes finally locked onto yours, sharp and filled with malice.

“Be gone,” he spat, the words dripping with venom despite his obvious weakness.

He tried to swat your hands away, but his movements were sluggish.

“Don’t touch me,” he groaned, trying to sound commanding, but his strength had abandoned him.

His arrogance, however, hadn’t.

Your eyes widened at his reaction, but you remained calm, inhaling a deep breath as you figured out the next course of action.

“You can complain all you want,” you replied, your tone firm as you ignored his protests, “but I’m not leaving you here to bleed out on the snow.”

Sliding one of his arms over your shoulders, you lifted him up with difficulty, your legs trembling under his weight. “Come on,” you said through gritted teeth, “my cabin is just a few steps away.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, attempting to pull away.

His voice carried the same threatening tone as before, but the aggression of his words was completely outshined by his obvious vulnerable state.

“Focus on not dying,” you snapped, adjusting his weight as you dragged the both of you through the snow.

When you finally reached your cabin, you pushed the door open with your foot and led him to your bed, laying him down as carefully as his deadweight allowed.

You wasted no time.

Kneeling beside him, you carefully opened up his kimono, revealing more than you expected.

His chest was broad and well-defined, muscles rippling beneath his skin.

The dim light of the room highlighted the scars that covered it.

So many, each one a mystery you couldn’t quite understand.

You frowned, fingers brushing over the marks, wondering what kind of life had left him like this.

His abs flexed slightly as you carefully touched him, and for a moment, you couldn't help but notice how his body looked like it had been carved from stone.

You caught yourself staring for a little too long at the sight of his body, and quickly shook your head, snapping your focus back to the task at hand.

His wound needed your attention.

“I’m not some helpless fool,” he growled, his voice rasping.

You ignored him, slipping away to grab some supplies.

A clean cloth, a bowl of water, and a bottle of alcohol.

Returning to his side, you soaked the cloth and pressed it gently against the wound, cleaning away the blood.

He flinched, his body tensing under your touch.

“This is going to hurt,” you warned, wrapping your fingers around the arrow. “I’m sorry.”

Without waiting for his response, you pulled the arrow out in one swift motion.

His scream tore through the cabin, raw and guttural.

He gritted his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut as sweat droplets formed on his forehead.

“You’re making this worse,” he hissed when the pain subsided slightly.

“Right,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. "Bleeding out on the snow sounds way better than my help."

Even though he continued to complain and glare at you, he had no choice but to let you stitch up the wound.

As you worked, his breathing eventually steadied but the sour look on his face never left.

"I don’t need your help," he muttered one last time, his voice quieter now, but still laced with defiance.

"And I don’t need your gratitude," you replied evenly, tying off the final stitch. "But here we are anyway."

His crimson eyes bore into you with disdain, but you simply sighed and stood. "You’re lucky the wound wasn’t worse. You’ll need to rest, though."

Without waiting for a reply, you left the room, returning a few minutes later with a steaming bowl of soup.

You sat down beside him on the bed, carefully scooping up a spoonful of soup.

Gently, you brought it close to his lips, watching him closely.

“Here,” you said quietly, waiting for him to part his lips. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. This will help.”

Sukuna’s eyes flicked to the spoon, then back to you.

He didn’t move. “I’m not a child,” he snapped, his tone sharp despite the fatigue in his voice.

You shook your head with a light chuckle. “Good to know.”

You extended the spoon again, your voice warm but firm. “Eat, please.”

He let out a low, irritated grunt but finally opened his mouth, reluctantly accepting the spoonful you offered.

The way his jaw clenched as he accepted it was almost comical, as if the act of cooperation was physically painful for him.

You watched as he ate another spoonful, his movements stiff.

He paused, then took another, slower this time.

“It’s bland,” he muttered, turning his face away with an expression of disinterest.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “It’s supposed to be easy on your stomach,” you explained patiently. “I didn’t want to give you anything too heavy.”

He snorted, his tone laced with sarcasm. “How considerate.”

You let the comment slide, refusing to take the bait.

Instead, you stood, setting the bowl down on the nightstand and placing a blanket over his body “I’ll make something tastier once you’re feeling better. For now, this will have to do.”

Sukuna glared at you, clearly annoyed by your calm demeanor, but said nothing.

Over the next few hours, his defiance didn’t waver once.

Every time you checked his wound, he’d flinch or growl as if your touch was offensive.

When you tried to help him sit up or adjust his bandages, he’d mutter something under his breath about not needing your assistance.

By the tenth time he dismissed your efforts with a scoff, your patience began to wear thin.

“Could you at least try not to act like I’m torturing you?” you asked lightly, your voice tinged with humor rather than frustration.

“I wouldn’t have to act,” he shot back, his lips curling into a faint smirk.

You exhaled slowly, your grip tightening on the cloth in your hand. “You really have a way with words, don’t you?”

He tilted his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement now. “Easy there, you’re sounding annoyed.”

You forced a smile, though it was strained. “Not annoyed. Just questioning why I’m bothering to help when it’s so clearly unwanted.”

The silence stretched, and his smirk momentarily disappeared.

He stared at you, his expression unreadable, before leaning back against the pillows with a low grunt.

“Fine, do as you please,” he mumbled, his eyelids fluttering shut.

You sighed, torn between irritation and concern as you watched him. “I plan to,” you murmured softly, more to yourself than to him, before gathering your supplies and leaving the room.

As you walked out of the room, Sukuna cracked one eye open, his gaze lingering on the door you’d just closed.

For reasons he couldn’t quite understand, the softness in your voice and the tenderness in your actions unsettled him far more than any battle wound ever had.

Why were you treating him like this?

With so much kindness and care, despite his infamy.

Him, of all people.

The next morning, you entered the room to check on him, carrying another bowl of soup in one hand and a fresh bandage roll in the other.

He was awake, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, his expression neutral.

“Good morning,” you said kindly, setting the bowl down on the nightstand beside him.

He didn’t respond, but you could feel his eyes on you as you moved around, arranging your supplies.

You sat next to him on the edge of the bed, peeling back the blanket to inspect his wound. The stitches held on well overnight, and the redness around the area had started to fade.

“It’s healing nicely,” you said with a small smile, dabbing at the wound with a damp cloth.

Sukuna grunted. “I’ve had worse.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing up at him. “I’m sure you have. But that doesn’t mean you should brush this off.”

He didn’t reply, his gaze shifting away from you to the window.

As you worked, the silence between you stretched, but it didn’t feel as tense as it had before. He didn’t flinch as much when your hands brushed against his skin, and while his annoyed expression remained firmly in place, there was something less hostile about it now.

“Here,” you said after finishing with his bandages, lifting the bowl of soup and holding it out to him.

He eyed it suspiciously. “Still bland, I assume?”

You chuckled. “Probably. But you’ll eat it anyway.”

This time, he took the bowl without complaint.

As he ate, you settled down on the bed, watching him quietly.

“You’re awfully persistent,” he muttered after a few bites, his tone less sharp than usual.

“And you’re awfully stubborn,” you countered, a teasing hint in your voice.

He snorted, a sound that almost resembled a laugh. “You’re really something, aren’t you?” He spoke with his usual sharpness, but this time, it wasn’t as cold.

You raised an eyebrow, not missing the subtle shift in his tone. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He glanced at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Could be worse, I guess. At least you’re not boring.”

With a soft chuckle, you tilted your head. "I’d say I’m doing something right, since you're still alive and complaining."

Over the next few days, a routine formed between you.

You’d take care of his wound in the morning, bring him food, and sit with him for a while, talking about small things.

Your life living in the forest, the weather, little stories from the nearby village.

At first, he barely responded, his silence more dismissive than curious.

But slowly, his mean comments became fewer, his glares less frequent.

Once, you even caught him watching you with an expression you could only describe as endearing.

One evening, as you were tidying up the room, Sukuna broke the silence.

“You’re not afraid of me,” he stated, his voice low but certain.

You glanced at him, pausing mid-step. “Should I be?”

He frowned, his crimson eyes narrowing. “Most people would.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying him. “You’re lying half-dead in my bed, what is it that you want me to fear so bad?” Your voice was light, teasing, but there was a hint of curiosity in your gaze now.

Sukuna scoffed. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” you asked, leaning forward slightly.

He didn’t answer right away, his eyes scanning your face almost as if deciding if he truly wanted to say whatever it was he was thinking about.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low.

“Who I am.”

A strange silence followed his statement, and you found yourself blinking in confusion. “Should I?”

A bitter laugh escaped him, sharp and humorless. “You’ve been tending to the most feared man in the land, and you don’t even realize it.”

Your brow furrowed, your mind racing to piece together his cryptic statement. “Feared?” you replied.

He leaned forward, his eyes boring into yours, gauging your reaction. “I’m Ryomen Sukuna.’’

Your breath hitched, the realization slamming into you like a splash of ice cold water. Memories of whispered stories and terrified murmurs surfaced in your mind.

Tales of a tyrant whose cruelty knew no limits, whose power was unmatched.

Your gaze darted to his eyes, lowering to the sharp angles of his jaw, until they landed on his scarred chest.

The scars on his body told a story far darker than you'd imagined.

“You…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your body slightly shifting away from him on the bed.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow “Ah, there it is. Fear.”

But as the silence stretched, the fear he expected didn’t consume you.

Instead, your expression shifted from shock to something else entirely.

“You’re joking,” you said flatly, though your voice trembled slightly.

“Do I look like someone who jokes?” His tone was sharp, his gaze unforgiving.

You stared at him, your mind racing.

The pieces fit together too neatly to deny.

The arrogance.

The way he carried himself.

The near-fatal attack he’d suffered.

It all made sense now.

And yet…

You exhaled slowly, leaning back to where you were sitting before. “Well, that explains the attitude,” you muttered.

His brow furrowed, clearly caught off guard by your response. “That’s it? No begging for mercy? No scrambling to escape?”

You shook your head, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite the situation. “Am I supposed to? You’re still breathing only because I’m here. What are you going to do, kill me with that look?

For the first time since you’d met him, Sukuna looked genuinely stunned.

“You’re either very brave,” he said finally, his voice low, “or very foolish.”

“Maybe both,” you replied softly, meeting his gaze without flinching. “But even if I knew who you were from the start... I probably still would’ve helped you.”

He sat there staring at you, with a bewildered expression on his face, and for once, he didn’t have a sharp reply.

The air in the room thickened with a tension neither of you had expected.

You shifted slightly on the bed, the heaviness of your words lingering between you, while Sukuna remained silent, his eyes never leaving yours.

You both seemed locked in some kind of standoff, neither of you backing down, but neither of you making a move either.

His eyes were darker now, unreadable and intense, while you felt your pulse quicken under the intensity of his gaze.

Finally, he relaxed against the pillows with a quiet grunt, still watching you carefully, as if he was trying to figure out why you weren’t reacting the way he expected.

“You’re strange, you know that?” His voice was low, but there was something softer in the way he spoke.

“I’ve been told that before,” you said, smiling softly.

He chuckled, the sound extremely faint. “I can’t believe you’re so calm after all this. After knowing who I am.”

You shrugged, your gaze not leaving his. “What does it change? You’re still the same man lying in my bed.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “And you still haven’t run screaming for the hills. A miracle.”

“No, just... common sense,” you said, a teasing tone in your voice. “What would I gain by running? I’ve already fed you, patched you up, and made sure you didn’t die on me. There’s no turning back now.”

His smirk faltered for just a moment, replaced by an expression you couldn’t quite place. “You’ve got more nerve than I expected. I’ll give you that.”

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment. But I’m pretty sure you don’t hand those out often,” you said with a soft chuckle, your voice light and easy.

You scooted closer to him on the bed, and gently adjusted the blanket around him, your fingers lingering for longer than necessary.

Sukuna’s eyes shifted to your hands, noticing how your touch lingered just a little too long. His body tensed, not out of discomfort but out of unfamiliarity.

He wasn’t used to this.

To someone treating him with such care.

It felt strange.

Unsettling even.

It made him want to pull away but at the same time, he couldn’t move.

It felt like his body was stuck in place.

His gaze returned to your face, the focus in your expression catching him off guard.

There was no fear, no negative feelings toward him that he could detect.

The light weight of the blanket against his chest suddenly felt heavier, almost suffocating, but he couldn’t quite figure out why.

He stayed silent, the tension growing between you.

He felt torn, unsure whether to act on his usual instinct to push everyone away or give in to the curiosity pulling him in.

His voice eventually broke the silence, his tone quieter. “You’ve got to stop making it so easy.”

You glanced up at him, puzzled. “Making what easy?”

“Making me want to stay” he murmured, his gaze flicking down to your lips.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline immediately at this statement, your heartbeat picking up speed for a brief second, as you sat there processing his words.

You didn’t move, not at first, and just stared at him, trying to make sense of what he said.

Before you could open your mouth to reply, his hand moved.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, until his fingers gently trailed the side of your face, a featherlight touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

Before you knew it, you were leaning forward unconsciously.

The proximity between you felt magnetic, the way his eyes were stuck on yours dragging you towards him.

His breath was warm against your skin, his gaze never shifting as he leaned in as well.

When his lips met yours, it wasn’t frantic or desperate.

Instead it was slow.

Careful, like he wasn’t quite sure how to begin.

His lips were soft at first, like he was waiting for some signal from you.

And you gave him one.

You leaned into him, hands finding the edge of his kimono, pulling him closer with an urgency that matched the quickening pulse in your chest.

The kiss intensified, the uncertainty between you slowly disappearing with every movement. As his fingers tangled in your hair, you felt the tight knot of tension between you both loosen.

It was more than just a gesture.

That kiss was the release of everything you’d both been holding back, the chemistry finally too strong to deny.

For a few heartbeats, there was nothing but him, nothing but the press of his lips against yours and the sound of your breathings, echoing throughout the quiet of the room.

You pulled back slowly, just enough to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling at the same pace as his.

He didn’t say anything right away, his gaze flickering between your lips and your eyes, like he was trying to figure out if he had misread something.

Or if you were thinking the same thing.

“Stay,” you murmured after a long silence, your voice almost too soft, like you were testing the words.

His eyes narrowed slightly, his face a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

“Not just until your wound is healed,” you added, your voice steadier now. “I mean it. Stay here. No one would even think to look for you in a place like this.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

“Whoever shot that arrow at you probably thinks you’re dead anyway,” you continued, leaning in just slightly. “Whoever did that, thinks they’ve won. No one’s coming after you anymore.”

His jaw tightened, and seeing his reaction made you think you had pushed too far.

His hand slipped from your face, trailing down to his side as he straightened his posture slightly.

“As if it’s really that simple,” he murmured, his voice quiet, almost bitter. “You really think I could just disappear? Forget everything?”

You met his gaze, still not giving up despite his unwillingness. “You don’t have to forget. But you could start over. Here. With me.”

The silence that followed was unbearable, Sukuna’s eyes drifting towards the ceiling, clearly lost in thought.

Finally, his lips twisted into a faint smirk. “I didn’t know nursing me back to health included a permanent residency,” he muttered, his voice softer than before, although it carried a teasing tone to it.

Your stomach flipped, but you didn’t let it show.

Instead, you shrugged lightly, a small teasing smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He chuckled under his breath, a sound that felt warmer than any fire.

Slowly, he nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.

“I’ll stay,” he said, the words carrying more weight than he probably intended.

You smiled, leaning back with a small sigh of relief. “Good,” you replied, your voice lighter, gesturing with your head towards the nightstand. “Now stop talking and finish your soup before it gets cold.’’

He shook his head, but the faintest hint of a genuine smile tugged at his lips as he picked up the bowl.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna ryomen #ryomen x reader #jjk ryomen #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #ryomen fluff #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna

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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 2 months ago

Text

More Than Just a Favor | Sebastian Sallow x Reader One-Shot

I CAN'T BELIEVE I HAVE 100 FOLLOWERS?

Might be a small milestone to some but I only made this blog a little over a month ago so I am just quite surprised, and honored! Thank you to every single one of you who chose to follow my silly little fanfic blog. To celebrate and as a little thank you, I've written a female mc x sebastian one shot for y'all to enjoy <3

Summary: Rumor has it, you're still a virgin. Sebastian intends to find out if the gossip is true.

Words: ~9,300

Tags: Modern AU, Confessions, Smut, First Time, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Sebastian x Female Reader, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House

It started the way most Hogwarts rumors did: with a fragile ego, a loose tongue, and someone who couldn’t keep their mouth shut.

Sebastian wasn’t one to keep track of the latest school gossip. He had better things to do—like beating Ominis at chess, ditching homework, or sneaking off to the Undercroft with you. But this time, he didn’t have much of a choice. This particular rumor wasn’t just background noise; it was everywhere. And it was about you.

Apparently, your ex-boyfriend, the prat Sebastian had barely tolerated even back when you were dating, had let something slip to one of his friends. It wasn’t just an offhanded comment, either. No, he’d told the guy—loudly enough to be overheard in the courtyard—that the two of you broke up because you refused to go past second base with him.

“Six months, and nothing,” the friend had gossiped afterward, his c oice carrying over the sound of students milling about after lunch. “No wonder he’s still bitter.”

From there, the rumor was all anyone could talk about.

“She’s still a virgin?” “You’d think she’d have gotten it out of the way by now.” “Didn’t they date for, like, six months? What was the point?”

The whispering spread like Fiendfyre. Even students who didn’t know you beyond your reputation—the girl who’d saved Hogwarts from Ranrok’s rebellion in fifth year, who seemed fearless in every sense of the word—were weighing in, dissecting your personal life like it was some kind of puzzle to solve.

Of course, it didn’t help that your ex was known for being pissed about the break up. People speculated he’d let the secret slip on purpose, unable to handle the fact that you’d dumped him in the first place. That made the whole thing worse, because now it wasn’t just about you—it was about him and his wounded pride, and the entire school seemed to be picking sides.

Sebastian overheard it for the first time during lunch, sitting at the far end of the Slytherin table. A group of fifth years down the way were giggling, their voices barely low enough to avoid catching the attention of a passing professor.

“Can you believe it?” one girl said, her voice dripping with glee. “Her, of all people?”

“What about her?” her friend asked, clearly out of the loop.

“She’s a virgin!” the first girl whispered, as though it were the most scandalous thing she’d ever heard. “Apparently, that’s why her ex dumped her. Six months together, and she wouldn’t even—”

Sebastian’s fork clattered against his plate, cutting the girl off mid-sentence.

She froze, glancing nervously at him as he slowly pulled the earbud from his right ear. His music—something dark and brooding, of course—cut out as he turned toward her, brown eyes sharp.

“What was that?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

The girl fidgeted with the sleeve of her robe, but her friend wasn’t nearly as cautious.

“You haven’t heard? Her ex said they broke up because she wouldn’t put out,” the friend explained matter-of-factly, not bothering to lower his voice.

Sebastian stared at them as a slow, creeping heat rose in his chest, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he was feeling. Anger? Maybe. Amusement? Possibly. Relief? …Definitely.

Not that he let them know that.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than talk about things that aren’t your business?” he asked, his voice low and even.

The girl fidgeted more visibly now, her face paling. Her friend, however, didn’t seem to share the sense of self-preservation.

“Relax, Sallow,” he said with a smirk, leaning forward conspiratorially. “It’s not like we’re the only ones talking about it. It’s everywhere.”

Sebastian’s dark eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep his temper in check.

“Well, maybe you should be the first ones to shut up about it.

“Alright, alright,” the friend muttered, holding up his hands defensively. “No need to get all defensive. I’m just saying what everyone’s already heard.”

“Right,” Sebastian drawled, his lip curling in disdain as he leaned back slightly, letting his glare linger just long enough to make them uncomfortable. “Because if everyone is doing it then it's totally fine to continue parroting garbage.''

That seemed to do the trick. The pair exchanged nervous glances before muttering half-hearted excuses and scurrying off like rats abandoning a sinking ship.

But of course, it wasn’t just the younger students gossiping. For the rest of the day, he caught snippets of conversations in the corridors, in classrooms, even in the common room that evening. It was everywhere, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, his curiosity got the better of him.

That night, he found you in the Undercroft, just like he’d expected.

The moment Sebastian stepped through the arched entrance, the tension in his shoulders eased. The familiar hum of magic in the air wrapped around him like a blanket, muting the noise of the outside world. The Undercroft had always been your shared refuge—a place where the two of you could escape from everything else.

And there you were, sitting on the floor near the far wall, legs crossed with a book resting on your lap. Your back was straight, your expression focused, but the way your shoulders hunched slightly told him everything he needed to know. You weren’t fine.

Sebastian leaned against one of the stone columns, crossing his arms as he watched you for a moment. He could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy like a storm waiting to break. Part of him didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to push you when you clearly needed space.

But the other part of him—the louder, more stubborn part, the part that wanted the rumor to be true—refused to stay quiet, because the thought of you being with someone else—being close to someone else—had always tied him up in knots. And your ex? That prat? The six months you’d spent with him had been absolutely torturous for Sebastian.

He’d never told you, of course. He’d plastered on his usual smirk, rolled his eyes every time you mentioned the guy’s name, and thrown in the occasional jab about how you could do better. But every time you left to meet him, every time he’d see the two of you sitting together at meals or laughing in the courtyard, it had felt like a gut punch.

He’d spent more nights than he cared to admit lying awake in the Slytherin dormitory, staring up at the canopy of his bed with his heart pounding and his mind racing. He hated the thought of someone else holding your hand, kissing you, whispering things in your ear that he didn’t dare say aloud.

Not that he should’ve been surprised. Every guy at Hogwarts had pined after you since fifth year. You were fearless, funny, and maddeningly brilliant. You were the one who had charged headfirst into danger when Ranrok threatened everything, the one who’d become a legend among your peers before you even hit sixteen.

And on top of all that, you were beautiful. Not the kind of beauty that demanded attention, but the kind that pulled people in without you even trying. You didn’t seem to realize the effect you had on people, and maybe that’s what made it worse.

Because Sebastian had known, from the moment he met you, that you were going to ruin him.

And now, standing here in the Undercroft, watching you hunch slightly under the weight of a stupid rumor, all those feelings surged to the surface. The relief, the jealousy, the guilt. He wanted the rumor to be true—wanted it to be true so badly that it scared him.

"So..." he start slowly, "You want to talk about it?"

You startled slightly, your head snapping up to meet his gaze. For a moment, you didn’t say anything, your eyes narrowing as if trying to figure out his angle. Then you huffed, snapping your Charms textbook shut and tossing it onto the floor beside you.

“Not really,” you muttered, your tone sharper than usual.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a faint smirk despite the tension in his chest.

“Come on,” he pressed, his voice softer now but still laced with that familiar teasing edge. “It’s me. You can tell me anything."

Your expression darkened as you stood abruptly, brushing dust off your robes. “What’s there to talk about, Sebastian? It’s just a stupid rumor.”

“Is it?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as he watched you pace the length of the room.

You stopped mid-step, your shoulders stiffening before you turned to face him fully. “Yes, it is,” you snapped, your voice rising slightly. “But apparently, the entire school thinks it’s their business now.”

Sebastian studied you carefully, his smirk fading. He could see the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface, the way your hands clenched and unclenched at your sides. This wasn’t like you. You were always so steady, so unshakable, the kind of person who didn’t care what anyone thought. But now? Now you looked… rattled.

“They’re idiots,” he said simply, shrugging one shoulder. “You know that.”

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head as you turned away from him. “Doesn’t stop them from talking, does it?”

Sebastian pushed off the column, closing the distance between you with a few lazy steps. He stopped just a foot or two away, his voice low and careful as he said, “So… is it true?”

You froze, and for a moment, the silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. Then, slowly, crossed defensively over your chest.

"That's not your business, Sebastian."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smirk—too soft, too careful—but still undeniably him. He tilted his head, studying you with that infuriatingly patient look he reserved for when he wasn’t ready to let something go.

“Maybe not,” he admitted, his voice quiet but steady. “But you’re my best friend, so I’m making it my business.”

You glared at him, your arms tightening over your chest. “Why? So you can laugh about it like everyone else?”

That stung, more than he wanted to admit. His smirk faltered, his brows knitting together as he took a step closer.

“Come on,” he said, his voice softening. “You know me better than that.”

Your gaze flickered, uncertainty flashing across your face before you looked away, your jaw tightening.

Sebastian let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. He didn’t want to push you, not when you were already on edge, but the knot in his chest refused to loosen.

“Look,” he started, his tone gentler now, “I don’t care what everyone’s are saying. They don’t know you—not really. And whatever your ex said? That just proves how much of a git he is.”

You scoffed, your eyes snapping back to his. “You hated him before this, Sebastian. Don’t act like this is some new revelation.”

“You’re right,” he said, his grin creeping back, though it was tempered by something warmer. “I did hate him. Still do. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was less fire in the gesture now, as though his words had chipped away at some of the tension in your shoulders.

Sebastian took another step closer, the space between you shrinking until he could see the way your hands trembled as you fidgeted with the fabric of your sleeve. He tilted his head, his eyes meeting yours.

“So,” he said slowly, “you’re not going to deny it?”

You hesitated, your throat working as you swallowed hard. “Why does it matter to you?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and charged. Sebastian’s heart thudded in his chest, the truth clawing at the back of his throat. He could feel it pressing against his ribs, begging to be let out.

But instead, he shrugged, forcing a casual grin. “It doesn’t,” he lied. “I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

“Why not?” you asked, your voice sharper now, defensive.

He hesitated, his grin faltering for a split second before he recovered. “Because it’s you,” he said, his tone quieter now. “You’re… you. Brave, reckless, brilliant—and gorgeous, by the way, not that you ever seem to notice.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, clearly caught off guard by the compliment. He couldn't really blame you. Sebastian almost always avoided saying anything that got too close to the truth of his feelings.

But he pressed on, his voice softening further. “You could have anyone you wanted. Hell, half the guys in school are practically lining up for a chance. So yeah, I just assumed…” He trailed off, shrugging again, though the motion felt heavier this time.

“Well, you assumed wrong,” you muttered, shifting your weight awkwardly.

The confirmation leaving your lips had Sebastian’s thoughts grinding to a halt, his mind caught somewhere between relief and confusion.

By principle, Sebastian didn’t care how many people someone had slept with—or if they hadn’t slept with anyone at all. It wasn’t something he judged people for. Hell, he was hardly a paragon of chastity. His own reputation preceded him—half the school whispered about his escapades, and he didn’t exactly go out of his way to deny the rumors. He wore the label of "man whore" like a badge of honor, not because he particularly enjoyed the attention, but because it was easier than letting anyone see the truth.

And the truth was simple: all of it—every fleeting flirtation, every casual hookup, every whispered name—had been nothing more than a distraction. A way to dull the ache of wanting something he could never have.

So when it came to you, his principles fell apart. The selfish, possessive part of him—the part he usually tried to shove into a dark corner of his mind—was pleased. Pleased that you were still untouched. Pleased that he might still have a chance to be your first, and if he had his way, he’d be your only.

He shoved his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t fidget. “Well,” he said softly, his voice dipping into something quieter, something that wasn’t quite teasing but still carried the edge of a grin. “…Good.”

Your head snapped up, your eyes narrowing as you stared at him. “Good?” you repeated, your voice sharp with disbelief.

“Yeah,” he said, his smirk softening into something warmer, something real. “Good. It means you didn’t let that asshole have something he didn’t deserve.”

You blinked at him, clearly caught off guard by his words. For a moment, you just stared, like you were trying to figure him out, to dig past the layers of teasing and bravado to whatever truth lay beneath.

"You're oddly fixated on this." You observed.

Sebastian could feel the truth clawing at him, desperate to be set free, but instead, he forced a shrug, his smirk creeping back into place.

“I'm not fixated,” he lied, though the words tasted bitter on his tongue. “I just think you deserve better than someone like him.”

You rolled your eyes, though the gesture lacked its usual fire. “You’ve been saying that since the day I started dating him.”

“Because it’s true,” Sebastian shot back, his grin widening just enough to show a hint of teeth. “You’re amazing, and he… well, he was decidedly not.”

The faintest smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and Sebastian’s chest tightened at the sight. He would’ve given anything to see that smile directed at him forever.

“Thanks, I guess,” you muttered, though your cheeks were still flushed, and you shifted awkwardly under his gaze.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the air between you thick. Sebastian could feel it—the tension, the weight of everything he wasn’t saying—and he knew, deep down, that this moment was teetering on the edge of something neither of you could take back.

And then, because he couldn’t stop himself, he said, “You know… if you ever wanted to change that status, you could always come to me.”

Your eyes widened, and your mouth fell open slightly as you stared at him, clearly caught off guard. “What?”

He shrugged, trying to keep his tone light even as his heart threatened to pound out of his chest. “I mean, you trust me, right? And I’m…” He paused, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Well, let’s just say I have experience.”

You groaned, "Seb, I really don't want to hear about how you fucked three girls in one night in three separate broom closets, okay? You sexcapades are not exactly my favorite topic."

Sebastian blinked, caught off guard by your blunt response. Then he burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the Undercroft. It wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, apparently, because your glare deepened, but there was a flicker of something softer in your eyes—maybe amusement, maybe exasperation.

“Why not?” he asked, grinning wide, leaning slightly closer. “You don’t find my sexcapades entertaining?”

“No,” you shot back, though your lips twitched like you were fighting a smile. “They’re revolting. And the fact that half the school thinks you’re incapable of keeping it in your pants doesn’t entertain me nor scream trustworthy.”

Sebastian pressed a hand to his chest. “Ouch. Way to attack my character”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks were flushed. “You practically brag about it. You’re always smirking when people bring it up, like it’s some badge of honor.”

“Maybe I’m just giving them what they want,” Sebastian shot back smoothly, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. “You know how people are. They love a good story.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “So you didn’t hook up with three girls in one night?”

Sebastian hesitated, his grin faltering for a split second. “Well, I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” you groaned, dragging a hand down your face.

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Yes, I have a bit of a reputation. But let’s be honest—none of it actually matters. It’s not like I care about any of the girls I hook up with.”

You frowned at him, your gaze narrowing. “Then why do it?”

Sebastian blinked. For a moment, his smirk slipped completely, and the air between you grew heavier. But then, just as quickly, he recovered, his lips twitching into that familiar, teasing grin.

“Well,” he started, his tone light but laced with mischief, “it’s better than getting myself off alone in bed ten feet from Ominis, isn’t it?”

Your jaw dropped, and you gawked at him, absolutely dumbfounded. “Sebastian!”

“What?” he said, shrugging innocently, though the grin on his face was anything but. “I’m just saying. Can you imagine?” He raised his voice, mimicking Ominis’s clipped, proper tone. “‘Really, Sebastian? At two in the morning? Some of us enjoy sleep.’”

You stared at him, torn between horror and the urge to laugh, your cheeks burning. “I didn’t need to know that!”

“Sure you did,” he said, clearly pleased with himself. “Now you understand why I’ve had to… broaden my horizons.”

“Broaden your horizons?” you repeated, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “That’s what you’re calling it?”

“Well, what would you call it?” he shot back, his grin widening.

“I’d call it—” You cut yourself off, groaning as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

Sebastian laughed, the sound warm and rich, and for a moment, it felt like the tension between you had lifted. But then his laughter faded, and he took a step closer, his expression softening into something more serious.

“Look,” he said, his tone quieter now, more honest. “What I’m really trying to say is that if…” He swallowed hard, and for a brief moment, he considered stopping—considered leaving it unsaid. But then he met your eyes, and something in your gaze spurred him on, despite every instinct screaming at him to shut up.

“If you’re planning on… you know, getting it over with,” he forced out, his voice low and uneven, “then I’ll help.”

You blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Help?”

Sebastian nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets to stop them from fidgeting. “Yeah. I’ll… I don’t know. Give you the dirt on whoever you’re thinking about. Tell you if they’re decent, or if they’re just going to make things worse for you.”

Your expression shifted from confusion to something closer to disbelief. “Seb, are you seriously offering to vet potential guys for me?”

“Well, someone has to,” he said, his grin returning, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I mean, let’s face it—your taste hasn’t exactly been stellar so far.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real heat behind the gesture. “Gee, thanks.”

“I’m just saying,” he pressed, leaning slightly closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “If you’re going to do this, you might as well make sure it’s with someone who’s not going to screw it up—or worse, brag about it to half the school.”

You stared at him for a long moment, your arms still crossed over your chest. “Why would you even offer that?”

Sebastian hesitated, the mask slipping for a split second as he tried to find the right words.

“Because you’re my best friend,” he said finally, the words tasting both honest and hollow at the same time. “And I don’t want you to regret it.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and charged, and Sebastian felt his heart thudding in his chest. The truth was, it wasn’t just about you. Not entirely. A selfish part of him couldn’t bear the thought of someone else being close to you in a way he wasn’t. Offering to help—offering to vet anyone you might consider—felt like a way to keep some semblance of control over a situation that made his stomach churn.

Because now he had a second chance at this. And if you went through with it, if you let someone else touch you, have you in a way that Sebastian could only dream of, he didn’t know what he’d do.

He told himself it was noble—that he was doing this for your sake, to protect you from making a mistake. But deep down, he knew it was self-serving, a desperate attempt to steer you away from anyone else while he tried to gather the courage to tell you the truth.

“Well, I’m not… planning anything,” you said at length, your voice softer now, almost hesitant.

Sebastian exhaled slowly, the knot in his chest loosening just slightly at your words. He hadn’t realized just how tightly he’d been wound, how much tension he’d been carrying since this stupid rumor started spreading.

“Good,” he said, his tone gentler now, though he couldn’t stop the faint smile that tugged at his lips. “Because honestly? Most of the guys around here are prats. You’d be better off waiting two months until after Hogwarts. At least then you won’t be stuck hearing about it in the Great Hall for weeks.”

You hummed thoughtfully, tilting your head as if considering his words. “And… if you were vetting yourself… would you approve?”

Sebastian froze, his usual quick wit momentarily failing him as his brain scrambled for a response. “I—what?” he stammered, caught entirely off guard. “That’s—that’s not—”

“Well, it’s only fair, isn’t it?” you cut in, your tone light but pointed as you smirked at him. “You were just interrogating me about my sex life. Why shouldn’t I get to turn the tables and question you back?”

Sebastian opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure of how to even begin responding. His mind was racing, caught somewhere between indignation, panic, and the nagging realization that he’d never actually considered it before—but now that he had, the answer was glaringly obvious.

He wouldn’t pass his own vetting.

Not even close.

If the situation were reversed, if someone like him were sniffing around you, Sebastian would shut it down faster than you could blink. He wouldn’t just give a list of reasons why the guy wasn’t good enough for you; he’d give a dissertation.

The reckless streak. The reputation. The countless rumors of broom closet escapades. It didn’t matter that most of them were exaggerated, or that none of it had ever meant anything.

And that wasn’t even scratching the surface. Because beyond the gossip and the bravado and the endless teasing, Sebastian knew himself. He knew the flaws that weren’t just rumors. The impulsiveness. The temper. The way he threw himself into things without thinking, consequences be damned.

If he were vetting himself for you, the answer would be painfully clear: absolutely not.

But here you were, watching him with a raised eyebrow and that infuriating, knowing little smirk, like you were daring him to come up with an answer that didn’t make him look like an idiot.

“Well?” you prompted, your tone light but laced with curiosity. “Would you pass?”

Sebastian cleared his throat, stalling for time as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “That’s… an unfair question,” he said finally.

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

“Because you’re not trying to get with me,” Sebastian said, forcing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The words tasted bitter as they left his mouth, like he’d swallowed something he couldn’t spit out.

But then something happened that he didn’t anticipate.

You didn’t respond.

Your mouth opened, as though you were about to say something, but no words came out. Instead, you just stared at him, your eyes wide and searching, your expression unreadable. Slowly, your cheeks began to flush, a deep warmth spreading across your face.

Sebastian froze, his own grin faltering as confusion flickered across his face. “What?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You blinked, quickly snapping your mouth shut, and for a moment, it looked like you might try to play it off. But the blush only deepened, spreading to the tips of your ears as you looked away, fidgeting with the sleeve of your robe.

Sebastian’s stomach flipped. He didn’t know what to make of this—of you.

You, who could go toe-to-toe with him in every argument, every tease, every prank. You, who always seemed so steady, so sure of yourself, now standing there, cheeks aflame and uncharacteristically quiet.

“Wait,” he said slowly, his voice dropping as he stepped closer, his brows furrowing. “What—"

“It's nothing,” you said quickly, your tone higher than usual as you avoided his gaze.

Sebastian blinked, his mind grinding to a halt as he stared at you. Slowly, like puzzle pieces falling into place, the realization began to wash over him.

“Is it?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the teasing edge gone.

You froze. “Sebastian, don’t,” you said softly, but there was no bite to your words—no real protest.

Sebastian’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. It certainly was not nothing.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t agree with me.”

You winced, your cheeks burning even brighter as you finally glanced up at him. “Seb…”

“No, no, hang on,” he said quickly, his mind racing as he took a step closer, his dark eyes locked onto yours. “Are you—wait, are you saying that you would—” He cut himself off, his voice catching in his throat as the weight of the moment hit him. “Bloody hell—"

“Sebastian, please,” you cut in quickly, your voice rising just enough to interrupt him. Your hands flew up as if to stop his words before they could leave his mouth. You were panicking now, trying to salvage the moment, the heat in your cheeks only growing more intense. “It’s not— I didn’t mean— Look, it’s nothing, alright? Just forget I said anything.”

“Forget it?” he repeated, his heart was pounding so loudly in his chest that he was sure you could hear it. “Are you serious? You expect me to just… move on like you didn’t just almost admit—” He stopped himself, swallowing hard, his voice dropping lower. “Like you didn’t just make me think that you might—”

“Sebastian, don’t,” you interrupted, your voice trembling as you took a half-step back. “This is stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“But you didn’t even say anything,” he countered, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took a step closer, closing the distance you were trying to put between you. “You didn’t have to. I saw it on your face.”

You flinched at that, your lips pressing into a thin line as your gaze flickered downward.

“Look at me,” Sebastian said softly, his tone lacking its usual teasing edge. “Please.”

You hesitated, your shoulders tensing, but eventually, you lifted your gaze to meet his. Your eyes were wide, brimming with uncertainty, vulnerability, and something else he couldn’t quite name—but it was enough to make his chest ache.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me I’m not imagining this."

You opened your mouth, your throat working as you struggled to find the words. Sebastian thought you might deny it again, that you’d laugh it off and shove him back into the safe, familiar box of your friendship. But then you closed your eyes, exhaling shakily.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you admitted, your voice quiet but steady. “You’re not imagining things. But this… this doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t mean anything?” he repeated, his brows furrowing as the words hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Not like that,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I just mean… it doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Sebastian said, his voice firmer now, more insistent. “And neither am I.”

You blinked at him, startled by the intensity in his tone, and Sebastian felt a flicker of hope spark in his chest.

“Do you know how long I’ve been—” He stopped himself, letting out a shaky laugh as he raked a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Sebastian...”

“No, listen,” he said, cutting you off as he stepped even closer, his voice dropping into something softer, more vulnerable. “I’ve been driving myself mad for years thinking that I’d have to spend the rest of my life pretending that I’m okay with just being your friend. And now you’re here, blushing like mad, trying to convince me that this doesn’t mean anything, when it’s the only thing I’ve wanted to mean everything.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the air between you crackling with tension so thick it was almost suffocating.

“Tell me I’m not wrong,” he said, his dark eyes locked onto yours. “Tell me that you’ve thought about this, about us. Because if you haven’t, I’ll let it go. I’ll never bring it up again. But if you have…” He trailed off, his chest heaving as he waited for your answer, every nerve in his body on edge.

You stared at him, your lips parted slightly as you struggled to find the words. And then, finally, you let out a shaky breath, your shoulders relaxing as you whispered, “I have.”

Sebastian’s heart stopped.

"So you... you want me?"

You huffed a laugh, your gaze flickering away. "Of course I want you,” you mumbled. “I’ve wanted you since we met."

The world seemed to tilt beneath Sebastian’s feet. His legs felt unsteady, his chest too tight to contain everything that had been bottled up inside him for years. All the late nights he’d spent staring at the canopy of his bed, wishing things were different. All the times he’d watched you smile at him, laugh with him, and ached for something he thought he could never have. And now, here you were, saying the very thing he’d been terrified to let himself hope for.

“Fuck,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair as a shaky laugh escaped him. He felt dazed, like he’d just been hit with a Confundus Charm. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Your brows furrowed, and the corners of your mouth dipped down. “Seb, if you’re about to make a joke—”

Sebastian didn’t let you finish. He closed the distance between you, his hands coming up to gently cradle your face as his lips crashed into yours.

You froze for a split second, caught off guard, but then you melted into him, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as if to anchor yourself.

Sebastian kissed you like his life depended on it, like you were air and he’d been suffocating.

And in that moment, he realized he had been suffocating, drowning in his feelings for you and his fear of ruining everything. But now, with you in his arms, kissing him back like this was where you’d always meant to be, he felt like he could finally breathe.

When he pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours, both of you were breathless. His chest heaved as he tried to steady his breathing, his hands still cupping your face as though he was afraid to let go.

"So... you want me too?" Your voice was small, almost uncertain, like you still couldn’t quite believe it yourself.

He let out a breathless laugh, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “I thought I made that pretty clear,” he said softly, his lips twitching into a small, crooked smile. “But yeah. I want you. I’ve wanted you since… well, since the first time you insulted my dueling form.”

A laugh bubbled out of you, the sound light and shaky, but genuine. “That was years ago.”

“Exactly,” he said, his grin widening.

Your expression shifted. Your eyes, still soft from the kiss, suddenly took on that sharp edge he knew all too well.

He’d seen that look a hundred times before—right before you suggested something outrageous, something that would almost certainly land the two of you in trouble. But this time, it was different. This time, the stakes felt infinitely higher, and Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat as he watched you, holding his breath.

“What?” he asked cautiously.

You leaned back slightly, studying him with that mischievous gleam in your eyes, and Sebastian swore his heart was about to give out.

“Well,” you started slowly, your lips curving into a playful smirk. “If we’re being honest about what we want…”

Sebastian swallowed hard, his hands still resting on your cheeks. “Go on,” he said, though his voice was rough.

Your hands slid down his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you leaned closer. “You said you’d help me if I ever wanted to change my…status,” you said, your voice dropping into something softer, something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. “Does that offer still stand?”

Sebastian’s breath caught. His eyes widened slightly, searching your face for any sign that you might be joking, but all he saw was that familiar confidence, the same fire that had drawn him to you in the first place.

“You’re not serious,” he said, though his voice wavered, betraying the rush of emotions swirling in his chest—hope, fear, and something that felt dangerously close to pure, unfiltered desire.

You tilted your head, your smirk softening into something gentler, something that made his stomach flip. “Why wouldn’t I be?” you asked quietly.

Sebastian couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. He just stood there, staring at you like he was committing this moment to memory—like he needed to be sure it was real before he dared let himself believe it. Then, slowly, a small, crooked smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Well,” he said, his voice rough but tinged with a teasing lilt, “I’d be an idiot to say no, but..."

"But?"

Sebastian’s voice dropped, softer now, almost hesitant. “But if we do this… I need you to understand something.” His thumbs brushed gently over your cheeks, his gaze searching yours. "I don’t want this to be some casual thing. I don’t want it to be something we joke about tomorrow or pretend never happened."

Your teasing smirk faltered, your expression softening as the weight of his words sank in. “Sebastian…” you started, your voice quieter now, almost uncertain.

“I’m serious,” he interrupted, shaking his head slightly as though to clear his thoughts. "Fuck, I'm in love with you and I want you forever. I want all of you. And I need to know that this is what you want too. Because if we do this—if we cross that line—I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back. I don’t want to go back. "

Your laugh was soft, shaky, but warm enough to chase away the tension tightening Sebastian’s chest. “Sebastian, you absolute idiot,” you said, your voice a mix of amusement and affection. “I love you too. You already had my forever."

Sebastian froze. You loved him. You loved him.

With a low, broken sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan, he pulled you to him, his lips crashing against yours.

"Then yes," he said against your lips, "The offer still stands."

His lips crashing into yours, Sebastian backed you up slowly until you pressed against the cool, rough surface of the wall. His hands slid down your sides, his touch warm and firm, before they found your thighs. With a low, breathless groan, he lifted you, his fingers curling around the soft flesh beneath your skirt. The warmth of your skin against his palms made his head spin, and a shaky moan escaped his lips as he pressed you tighter against him.

He was in heaven. After so much imagining, so many stolen glances and sleepless nights spent wanting this—wanting you—he finally got to touch you, hold you, have you. And the way you clung to him, your legs wrapping around his waist as your hands tangled in his hair, only made it better. Perfect, even.

Your kisses were desperate, almost frantic, and every press of your lips, every flick of your tongue sent fire racing through his veins. When you broke away from his mouth, trailing kisses along his jaw before latching onto the sensitive skin of his neck, he let out a deep, shuddering breath, his head tipping back slightly to give you more access.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice low and hoarse as your teeth grazed his skin. “You’re driving me mad.”

You didn’t stop, didn’t so much as pause, as you nipped at his neck, your lips soothing the sting with soft kisses before you sucked gently, leaving faint marks in your wake. Your hands slid down to his chest, tugging at the buttons of his shirt, and Sebastian could only chuckle breathlessly, his voice rough with want.

“Impatient, are we?” he teased, though his own hands were just as restless, roaming your thighs and hips like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Shut up,” you muttered, your tone sharp but breathless as you finally yanked the fabric apart, buttons clattering to the floor.

Sebastian’s hands tightened on your thighs, his arousal growing almost unbearable as you continued your assault on his senses. His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and he knew he couldn’t take much more of this—of you.

With a low, frustrated growl, he pulled back slightly, carrying you to one of the worn-out couches in the corner. The cushions creaked under your combined weight as he set you down gently, his body covering yours as he leaned over you, his hands braced on either side of your head.

For a moment, he just looked at you, his dark eyes roaming your face as though committing every detail to memory, because you were a vision, and the fact that you were here, with him, looking at him like he was the only thing that mattered, nearly undid him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with reverence.

Your lips parted slightly, a faint, breathless laugh escaping as you reached up to cup his cheek. “You’re not so bad yourself."

Sebastian huffed a laugh, and his lips found their way back to your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin with a newfound urgency. His hands slid along your sides, his fingers skimming the fabric of your sweater until they found the hem. He paused for just a moment, giving you a chance to stop him, but when you arched into him, your silent permission, he tugged the material upward.

The sweater caught slightly as he pulled it over your head, and you laughed softly, the sound muffled by the fabric. “Impatient are we?” you mocked breathlessly as he tossed the garment aside.

“Can you blame me?” he shot back, his voice low and gravelly as his hands immediately found your waist again, sliding up to palm you over your bra. His fingers curled around the soft fabric, thumbs brushing over the lace, and his breath hitched when you let out a soft, barely audible moan at the contact.

“Fuck,” Sebastian muttered, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he squeezed gently, his touch reverent, almost hesitant. “You’re perfect. I’ve thought about this so many times, and it doesn’t even come close to—” He broke off, his words dissolving into a groan as you arched into him again, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“You think too much,” you murmured, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear as your hands found their way to his chest, exploring the warm, firm planes of muscle beneath your fingers. “Just feel.”

Sebastian let out a soft laugh, though it was shaky and tinged with desperation as he pressed a kiss to your collarbone. “Oh, believe me,” he said, his voice rough, “I’m feeling plenty.”

His lips trailed lower, down the column of your neck and across your chest, lingering just above the edge of your bra. His hands slid around your back, fumbling slightly as he searched for the clasp, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his eagerness.

“Need some help?” you teased, though your voice was just as breathless as his.

“Shut it,” he grumbled, though there was no real heat in his tone. When he finally managed to unhook it, the fabric loosened, and Sebastian pulled it away slowly, almost reverently, his eyes darkening as they roamed over you.

“God,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he cupped you in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your bare skin. “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

Your cheeks flushed under his gaze, but before you could respond, his mouth was on you, hot and insistent. His lips and tongue worked in tandem, drawing soft gasps and whimpers from you that only spurred him on. His hands explored every inch of you, mapping out the curves and dips of your body like he was committing them to memory.

And Merlin, you were just as eager, your hands slipping down his back, your nails grazing his skin as you tugged him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist once more. Every touch, every kiss, every breath shared between you was electric, setting your nerves alight and leaving you both trembling with need.

“Sebastian,” you murmured, his name a plea on your lips as you arched into him, your hands tugging at the waistband of his trousers.

He groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he tried to steady himself, his breathing ragged. “You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, though the grin tugging at his lips betrayed the heat and affection swirling in his chest.

“Then die happy,” you shot back, your hands working to unbutton his trousers

Sebastian’s laugh was low and breathless, his hands momentarily leaving your body as he stood to slide the the fabric down his legs, and he decided that if this was the end, if you were the last thing he ever got to hold, he would die the happiest man alive.

His hands trembled slightly as they found your hips, his fingers curling around the waistband of your skirt. Slowly, almost reverently, he began to tug the fabric down, revealing more of you with each passing second.

His heart thundered in his chest when the fabric slid past your thighs, pooling at your knees before he finally discarded it onto the floor. Now, with both of you stripped down to nothing but your underwear, the reality of the moment hit him like a lightning strike.

His arousal, already insistent, became nearly unbearable, straining against the fabric of his boxers as his gaze swept over you. Splayed out on the worn couch, your hair spilled like a halo across the cushions, your chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, and every inch of you seemed to beckon him closer. The taut peaks of your breasts, flushed and bare to him, drew his attention, sending a sharp pang of need coursing through him. Your kiss-bruised lips, slightly swollen and parted, were enough to leave him breathless, but it was the way your thighs pressed together, your hips shifting slightly, and the soft flush painting your skin that nearly broke his restraint.

You squirmed under his gaze, your cheeks burning a lovely pink that traveled down to your neck, and Sebastian was certain he’d never seen anything more stunning in his life.

Sebastian sank down onto the couch, hovering over you once more, his arms braced on either side of your head as he took in every detail of your expression. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might break through his ribs. But when his eyes met yours, he faltered.

There, just beneath the heat and want in your gaze, was a flicker of something softer—nerves, apprehension.

This was your first time.

The gravity of it settled heavily on his chest all over again, eclipsing the raw desire that had been driving him just seconds ago. As much as he wanted to let his instincts take over, to lose himself in the sheer need coursing through him, he knew he couldn’t—he wouldn’t—rush this.

He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, one hand coming up to gently cradle your face. The tenderness of the gesture seemed to soothe the tension in your body, and he felt you relax slightly beneath him.

“We don’t have to do this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice soft and steady. “If you’re not ready—if you need more time—just say the word, and we’ll stop. No questions, no pressure. I mean it.”

Your lips parted as you stared up at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Your hands slid up to rest on his shoulders. “I want this,” you said, your voice quiet but sure. “I’m ready, Seb. I trust you.”

Sebastian closed his eyes briefly, exhaling slowly as relief and affection washed over him. When he opened them again, his gaze was softer, his brow furrowed slightly as he studied you. “If I do something you don’t like,” he said gently, “or if you change your mind at any point, just tell me. Promise me.”

“I promise."

Sebastian nodded, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. “Alright,” he murmured, leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips before he shifted back. After sliding your thong down your legs, his hands reached for your knees, his fingers curling around them as he gently urged your legs apart. His touch was firm but careful, like he was holding something fragile and precious.

When his gaze dropped to the space between your thighs, a low, guttural groan escaped him, unbidden. He braced himself with one hand on your knee, the other sliding along your inner thigh as though drawn there by instinct.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

“Seb…” you murmured, your voice trembling as you reached for him, your fingers brushing against his forearm.

He met your gaze, his expression softening as he smiled—a small, lopsided grin that carried all the affection and adoration he couldn’t put into words. “I’ve got you,” he said softly, his hand sliding to your hip as he settled between your legs. “I promise, I’ve got you.”

Sebastian leaned forward again, his hands framing your hips as he lowered himself over you. He felt your trembling hands move to the waistband of his boxers, your fingers brushing against his skin. He bit his lip, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he tried to keep his composure.

When you tugged gently, his hands left your body for just a moment as he helped slide the fabric down, discarding it carelessly onto the floor. He knelt there for a second, his heart pounding as he hovered above you, watching your reaction like it was the only thing that mattered.

The moment your gaze dropped, your breath caught audibly, your lips parting in surprise. Your eyes widened slightly before the surprise gave way to something deeper, something that made the heat in his chest bloom into something all-encompassing. The desire in your expression, raw and unguarded, left him completely undone.

Sebastian felt his face flush, a lopsided, slightly nervous smile tugging at his lips as he watched you take him in. “You alright?” he asked softly.

You swallowed hard, your eyes flicking back up to meet his, and he saw a glimmer of shyness there—so unlike the confident, unshakable version of you the rest of the world knew. “I’m... you're so..." he watched you swallow hard, hesitant yet heavy with want.

“I’m what?” he asked softly, his voice low and rough. He leaned closer, his fingers brushing against your hip, his touch warm and grounding. “Come on, sweetheart, don’t leave me hanging now.”

You swallowed again, your chest rising and falling with shallow, unsteady breaths. “You’re so big, I— will it hurt?"

Sebastian’s breath hitched at your words, a wave of satisfaction and desire crashing through him, leaving his heart pounding and his arousal almost unbearable. The raw honesty in your voice, the uncertainty paired with the compliment, made his chest ache with a mixture of pride and tenderness.

Still, the flicker of apprehension in your gaze snapped him back to the gravity of the moment. He couldn’t let the intensity of his need overpower what mattered most: you.

He exhaled slowly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

“It might,” he admitted softly, his voice low and steady. “It might hurt a little at first. But I promise you, I’ll go slow—so slow—and I’ll stop the second you want me to. You just have to tell me, okay?”

Your lips parted slightly, your breath trembling as you nodded. “Okay."

“You’re everything to me,” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently over your hip. “I swear, I’ll take care of you. I won’t let it be anything but good for you.”

You gave him a small, shaky smile, your fingers curling around the back of his neck to pull him closer. “I know."

Sebastian let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting briefly against yours as he reached down to position himself at your entrance. His hand trembled slightly—not from hesitation, but from the sheer weight of the moment, the overwhelming intensity of finally being this close to you, of having you completely. His eyes flicked up to meet yours one last time, searching for any trace of doubt.

“Breathe, love,” he whispered, his voice soft and soothing as he pressed a tender kiss to your cheek. “I’ve got you.”

You nodded, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders, your fingers curling into his skin as you drew him closer.

With infinite care, Sebastian began to press forward, his body taut with restraint as he eased himself into you. The moment he felt your warmth enveloping him, tight and slick and impossibly perfect, a low, guttural groan tore from his chest, his head dropping to your shoulder.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice rough and breathless as he stilled, giving you time to adjust. “You feel… you feel so good. So fucking good.”

Your breath hitched, a soft gasp escaping your lips as your body stretched to accommodate him. There was a slight pinch at first, an ache that made you tense momentarily, but Sebastian’s hands were there, grounding you, one cradling your hip while the other brushed soothing circles against your thigh.

“Easy,” he murmured, his voice laced with both tenderness and the barest hint of desperation. “Just breathe, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”

You nodded, exhaling shakily as you focused on his voice, his touch, the warmth of his body pressing against yours. Slowly, the discomfort began to fade, replaced by something deeper, something warmer.

Sebastian felt the change, the way your body softened beneath him, the way your fingers gripped his shoulders less tightly. He pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there as he began to move again, inching deeper with agonizing slowness.

“You’re so tight,” he muttered, his voice thick with awe and desire. “So warm. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Your soft whimper in response had his restraint fraying at the edges and he fought to keep his movements measured. Every inch of you wrapped around him like a vice, and the heat and wetness of you was enough to drive him to the brink of madness.

“Sebastian,” you breathed, his name a plea on your lips as your hands slid up to tangle in his hair. “You can… you can move.”

He groaned softly, lifting his head to look at you. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice tight as he forced himself to hold still, his entire body trembling with the effort.

“Yes,” you whispered, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. “I’m ready.”

With a shaky exhale, Sebastian nodded, his hands tightening on your hips as he began rocking into you with slow, deliberate strokes. The sensation was overwhelming—your body clinging to him, so snug and impossibly warm, every movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through him.

“Fuck,” he muttered again, his head dropping to rest against yours as he found a rhythm, each thrust measured and careful, ensuring you had time to adjust.

Your soft moans and the way your body responded to him only spurred him on, his movements growing just a fraction deeper, more deliberate, as he let himself sink further into you. The way you arched beneath him, the way your nails grazed his skin, made his restraint fray further, but he forced himself to hold on. This was about you—making sure you felt safe, cherished, and utterly adored.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmured, his voice rough but laced with affection as his lips brushed against your ear. “I need to know you’re okay.”

“It’s… it’s good,” you whispered, your voice trembling but full of warmth. “Better than good. You feel amazing, Seb.”

The sincerity in your voice made his chest tighten, his heart pounding as he pressed a series of soft, reverent kisses along your jaw. “You’re amazing,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re everything.”

And as he continued, his movements slow and deliberate, Sebastian let himself savor every moment, every sound, every touch, etching the memory into his soul, and he swore he’d spend the rest of his life making sure you knew just how deeply he cherished you.

Gryffindor Divider Credit Support Divider Credit

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robinsgrl · 3 months ago

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outer banks ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ reqs are open, send em!

࿐ jj maybank ࿔*:･ﾟ

jj’s weird girl masterlist

࿐ rafe cameron ࿔*:･ﾟ

fearless.

finding out your best friend has been talking about you behind your back to everyone with an available ear, in the truck of the most feared guy in kildare county, is not what you had planned for your senior year. you wanted quiet. laidback. simple. now, you’re in said most feared guys DM’s, begging him to help you get the guy you like to notice you and get back at your ex-best-friend by doing what every teen flick has told you to do— have a glow-up.

superwars

walmart vs. target has been an argument for as long as you could remember. when time comes to get a job, the feud becomes deeper as you and your ex-boyfriend, turned enemy, go head to head as managers. nothing and no one will stop you and rafe from this rivalry of yours, except maybe your snooping mother who believes you two are dating again. and you can’t disappoint your dear mother, can you?

rafe thought

rafe’s weird girl masterlist

#weird girl!reader for more tiny blurbs and asks regarding!

toxic baby daddy rafe

࿐ undecided/mulitple ࿔*:･ﾟ

kildare nights. social media!au

gold at hand and no more treasures to hunt, the freshly graduated treasure hunters are left to deal with the simple life. as simple as a certain level of fame and millions of dollars in the obx can get you, at least.

#obx masterlist #jj maybank x reader #kiara carrera x reader #rafe cameron x reader #john b x reader #sarah cameron x reader #cleo anderson x reader #pope heyward x reader

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diejager · 9 months ago

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I have a fucking insane idea based on a DnD thing I saw once lmao. So basically, if someone went through an immense amount of trauma, it could sort of manifest into another being used for self defense. This being was literally only limited by their imagination. It could be a damn house cat or a fucking dragon. It was basically an extension of their body that was a result of a dangerous or traumatic situation. It could help with other tasks as well, but its main purpose is defense. I need to see the men react to this, I’m begging

Monster au. Plz

~🧋

Cw: trauma, inaccurate magic, tell me if I missed any.

They were familiar with all kind of magic. Be it Old Magics and Magiks, enchantments, hexes, curses, dark arts, and everything known to the world, yours was…. peculiar. Quite peculiar for a person without any ties to a magical lineage or prior knowledge of powers. You were just a normal human - as normal as you could be with all your fearlessness towards monsters and hybrids alike - with a few unique perks and qualities, but a human no less. You weren’t any different from your parents, your extended family or any friends. A mortal with soft flesh, resilient and persevering, wild imaginations and genial abilities to adapt and conquer, and yet, were so, so fragile.

They hadn’t expected it, with Farah - the only witch they personally knew - tied to Alex by the hip and always on the move, their repertoire of magical knowledge was lacking. So, there was a mass of confusion between them, one that made understanding your strange ability difficult, but not impossible. They had Laswell’s help to sift through all existing records, some confidential, hidden under red tapes and confidentiality regulations, and others public, open to any curious eyes and prying noses.

The black Maine Coon that seemed to follow you, her lumbering figure and elegantly, curled fur that stood out among patches of grey and military green and browns of the base brought many questions, but all shrugged away at the mere sight of those piercing green eyes, vibrant lime that seemed to glow in darkness. She could light up the room with a single glance. It was as odd as it was menacing, and she was fiercely protective of you, shadowing your steps, curling her tail around your leg, laying on your lap when you sat and glaring at anyone who tried to approach you.

A spirit animal someone had commented, a guardian in the shape of a cat another had hushed. She was all speculations and would stay that way until someone found out more about your Maine Coon, or if someone grew a pair and actually asked you rather than treating it like a secret mission conducted behind your back. A mystery to resolve, a like game they thought it be amusing to play until you found them out or someone gave up after grueling weeks of hitting a brocade —a dead end.

It was fun and all, at least while it lasted. They felt like they were so close to figuring it out by themselves - pride and ego, you’d cackle. You’d have a field day laughing at them for them, then praise them for holding out so long - and Soap went out and begged for an answer.

“I was wondering when one of you would crack,” you smiled, running your fingers through her fur, brushing away knots and tangles, “Took you longer than I expected.”

You had known of their investigation, but never spoke up. It riled them up, a thrill at finally being given the knowledge they’re hungered for, an adrenaline that pumped from their hearts to know the answer. And you stalled, teasing them with the pretty curl of your lips, taking all the time you needed to have them squirm in their seats and hang at every word that fell from your mouth.

“She’s a… trauma response, of some kind. I don’t really know how or why, but she just appeared one day while I was recovering. I was confused,” you laughed, nuzzling her scruff when she sat up to lick your chin, “Really confused. But I did some tests, experiments out of sheer boredom and discovered she came from my mind- or a product of it.”

“Your mind..?”

“You know humans have vivid imaginations, as physically unfortunate we are, our minds are a… strange thing, and she came right out of it.”

“So she could be… anything?”

You threw your head back, pulling her up in your arms as if she was the lightest kitten ever, your smile so wide it was infectiously making them smile.

“Anything that my mind can conjure up.”

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce @sobbingnshtting

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gothiclynovi · 17 days ago

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Is Leo really dead in your fearless au? I’ve just found your au and I’m so interested in still trying to catch up

Yeah he’s really dead :(

He dies in about 2030 (about 25-26 yrs old) when Casey Jr. is 5.

Afterwards, Raph has to step back up as leader again.

#until he goes too at least #🤷‍♀️#I have a whole timeline written out lol 22 years #also I’m just basing the turtle’s ages off of the fandom wiki page. it says Leo’s bday is in 2004 so I went with that #fearless au asks #fearless au

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mullermilkshake · 3 months ago

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A lasting impression - Part three

Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four

Wife! Reader x Yakuza!Sukuna Tags: NSFW, Wife! reader, Yakuza AU, established relationship, mentions of blood, gore, violence, kissing, heavy petting, smut to come.

"Sir," Uraume waited by the door of the car and opened it for Sukuna's exit.

"Where is she?" he slipped out of the car and moved with purpose towards the double doors of headquarters.

"Your wife is waiting for you in her study. I applied the necessary first aid and after care myself."

"Good. that'll be all for tonight, Uraume."

Sukuna left them behind and made his way towards his personal quarters towards the inner part of the property, private enough to scream bloody murder and no one would hear unless he wanted them to.

The only place in Ryomen headquarters that no one other than Uraume was permitted to enter.

A place where you and him could converse freely and live life as though the Yakuza world wasn't just waiting outside those outer doors.

No one dared to even look him in the eye when he marched himself down the hallways and left nothing but the padding of his bare feet on the wine red carpet to match the red all over his body.

Perhaps that was why everyone he passed looked away and bowed far deeper than usual. Not that he minded it at all. It was just the way things happened, including how he was covered head to toe in the blood of his enemies.

When Sukuna arrived at his private quarters, you were right where he expected you to be, sitting at your desk writing something in your leather bound journal.

He entered without knocking, knowing the ins and outs of the study with his eyes closed, knowing the art ladened walls and antique gold lined vase off in the corner like it was his own office. For no one, not even Uraume had access to.

You didn't initially react to his presence, still writing and nursing your cheek with an icepack. "Did you get it all out of your system?"

If it wasn't such a serious time, Sukuna would have chuckled at your attitude seeing as you knew him so well.

"For now," he closed the study door and made his way to the desk. "let me see your cheek."

He stroked the back of your hand with his index finger which prompted you to close your journal and settle the icepack down on the wooden surface.

"Are they dead, or just gravely injured?"

The bruising had taken a hold of your flawless skin, bright red and purple from impact so disgustingly placed on display for all to see. It stoked the pit of lava in Sukuna's stomach enough that he could go out and punch the next person he saw just to quell it for just a second.

It took a moment of loosing himself in your eyes for you to respond to the silence. "I don't think I need to ask, actually. Did you leave a note per chance?"

Sukuna thought back to Awasaka's disembowelled abdomen. "Of sorts."

His knuckle moved and grazed your cheek, dragging slowly and barely brushing past the injured skin so as to not cause you further pain.

Fuck, you were so beautiful. "This won't happen again. And when I find everyone involved, they are going to wish that they endured a quick death when I'm through with them."

Then, you responded to Sukuna in a way that caught him off guard. "Do what you need. Though if it pleases you, I hope you'll let me watch."

Now you weren't opposed to him using violence. You had seen your fair share in the time that Sukuna had known you, it was a fearless part that drew him to you in the first place. But openly asking to be a part was nothing you had voiced before.

He leant against the desk, propping himself onto it to look at you more clearly. "If that is what you want."

And for some reason, Sukuna felt that down to his very soul.

A characteristic that made him fall in love with you all over again.

The way you looked up at him just now, though he was still drenched in Awasaka's blood. Something lustrous and hungry, excited and feverish for an outcome only he could provide.

Sukuna would have given everything up to ensure your safety. His little kingdom, the wealth the Ryomen clan had accumulated, even his life.

Anything for you. Everything.

"I very much want it."

His strength, confidence and brash nature were traits that interested you, things that drew you too him like a bee to flower petals, just watching him from the background with your own perfect traits that collected Sukuna with magnetism.

You could handle yourself physically and most importantly, mentally. There wasn't a time he had ever really seen you loose yourself or seen you display emotions that were drastic. You didn't even loose your temper like people expected a person to.

Right now he knew you were seething, though from an outsiders perspective you were just sitting at your desk asking questions.

Sukuna's hand had cupped your cheek softly and cradled you, his thumb rubbing just short of your ear. "Then you shall have it."

It was rather abrupt, again, being out of the ordinary for you. You shot up from your seat and moved close to him, close enough to plant your palms flat on the desk either side of him.

"Good. Because I'm rather disappointed that I missed out on the show," you nodded to the red bloody marks all over his clothes and hands. "To think you did all this for me and I never even got to see the fun."

Shit. For a moment Sukuna was dumbstruck. Only for a moment before his cock did the thinking for him. If he was a better man, he would have showered first before touching you. but seeing you as you were, pressed close with your chest rising and falling stopped him thinking rationally.

What could he really say in response to that?

"Was it painful?" you eyed him closely, tracing your finger over his chest.

"Yes."

"Did they make you work for it?"

Sukuna finally found his footing and traced the curve of your hips under his palms. "Hardly."

"That's good," getting closer, your lips barely brushed his own, the splatters of blood never deterring you. "An easy fight can be pointless. But it still sure does work up an appetite."

Not even a second more, Sukuna did not allow you to breech the gap between you, he yanked you towards him so quick that teeth almost clashed together and took your lips like he was an extension of you.

He was going to have you right there over your desk.

Sukuna pulled away momentarily, scrunching your hair between his fingers as he inched up the back of your neck. "Having you, leaves me ravenous."

"Have your fill then," your teeth pinched at the edge of your bottom lip.

So he did, in a fluid motion Sukuna turned around and had you on the desk with your back flat against it. Objects and stationary slipped and crashed off of the desk along with the icepack.

Your hips were flush against his, legs wrapping passionately around his waist. His crotch was straining against the material already, begging to be let free right between your legs. The supple skin plush of your thighs sat like velvet under his fingertips, reacting to his touch with shudders.

"Who knew that getting your own way could make you even more tantalising?"

You were spoilt. Sukuna had spoiled you. And he loved it.

Everything and anything you asked, you got. Because he would always give in no matter how outrageous the request was.

Though you never asked of much. Just him.

It was Sukuna who gave you everything. And then you had requests like this.

To see you witness himself at his worst, covered in blood and full of rage so much that he enjoyed it. Absolutely jaw droppingly insatiable.

Much like now since most of the blood had dried, yet some still transferred on to your skin. Your slender fingers clawing at his shoulders leaving red in the fingerprints.

His thumb traced the edge of your jaw, noses rubbing the other so that his lips ghosted over your own. In the six years you had been married to him, he had a good grasp on what you were thinking.

Your eyes watching him with adoration, did his look the same?

He loved you so much.

"Love me," you said, showing the smallest hint of vulnerability.

And he would, ten times over.

#yakuza au #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #fem reader #reader insert #sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk sukuna #ryomen x reader

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wildestdreamsblog · 1 year ago

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Latibule Season 2: II

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: A late valentine's gift <3 I’m so sorry for taking so long. A lot happened and work is the busiest and and and life.

Masterlist, Latibule 2.I

“Hyung, did you hear me? I said-"

Kim Namjoon sighed from the other line, headache already creeping up his temples from the boatload of information Jimin was dumping on him on the other line. As who he considered to be the only sound and sane one among the seven, Namjoon was accustomed to being the voice of reason, getting the boys out of tight illegal situations, and managing the members. Min Yoongi might be the head of the mafia, but all seven of them were leaders in their own right and fields.

Seokjin was the head of the medical field, Namjoon of the twisted world of law, Jungkook of the technology world.

And this definitely was one of Namjoon’s specialties: stopping the fearless and heart-stricken leader of Bangtan from kidnapping a woman in broad daylight. For fuck’s sake, he wasn’t even against the illegal act itself, but could he just do it when there weren’t eyes watching him?! When the sun wasn’t at its highest?! When he wouldn’t be tomorrow’s headline?!

He ran his hand through his disheveled hair, glaring at the eldest hyung who was chuckling to himself. Seriously, he thought doctors were supposed to have no life and no time to annoy their friends? Why then was the Chief of the hospital barging in his office and lounging on his fancy sofa?

“I’m glad you found this amusing, hyung,” he commented dryly which only made the eldest laughed harder. “This isn’t something to laugh about.”

“What?! We all know something is definitely wrong with Yoongi. This isn’t news to us! This only confirmed our suspicions!”

“You could at least be supportive of what he’s going through right now.”

“Namjoon,” he started when he was finally done laughing, wiping the tears from the side of his eyes. “How do you expect me to be supportive of him right now? He’s on the verge of kidnapping a woman because he thought she looked like her. Does that make sense to you?”

He tilted his head before standing up, his movement elegant as he crossed the room to where Namjoon was sitting behind his desk. He smiled down at him, his hand supporting his weight as he leaned down on his wooden desk. “Dead people don’t exactly come back to life after burning from a fire as immense as that one, do they?” he asked, his tone light yet his eyes held faux curiosity. And at that moment, an air of danger surrounded the office. He could see the coldness that reflected on Jin’s eyes.

Namjoon knew when to back down, especially when Jin was in this mood. It was almost comical how quickly Jin’s emotions could switch, and it was definitely not amusing how bloody the effects could be. He wasn’t exactly the mafia prince for nothing. He, of all people, knew how perceptive and strategic Jin was. Never once did he do anything without a reason. And precisely because of that that it took him a moment before he answered. He lowered his eyes for a second before returning to Jin’s now amused ones. “They don’t, hyung.”

Jin nodded before turning to leave, his hand was in his pocket, his stance relaxed as though nothing was amissed. He had opened the door when he paused as though he remembered something. He twisted his body, his eyes trained on the famous attorney before his lips twisted into an entertained smile. His finger was now resting on his lips.

“Ah, unless they’re actually not dead.”

—-

Min Yoongi was like a man possessed, never leaving any stones unturned as he religiously looked for his angel.

He looked at every single piece of record of the town that the town had, employed several people to look for you, searched every available CCTV to trace any evidence that you existed, that you weren’t merely a figment of his imagination, that you weren’t merely indication of his declining sanity. Yet all roads lead to nothingness.

It was like any leads he got were mere fragments, offering little clarity or direction in the investigation. Likewise, it seemed as if someone was making sure that he’d go nowhere with the little pieces of evidences he was able to gather of your existence.

As days turned to weeks and to months, he was starting to be convinced that you were just his imagination playing tricks on him, that his mind was just too cruel to conjure an image of you, that it was just too sick to think that you came back to him. In this moment of profound longing, when the ache of your absence weighed heavily on his twisted soul, he couldn’t help but ponder about his choices in life.

On some days when he missed you the most, he thought that this must have been his karma for living his fucked-up life brutally. On a day like this when he should have been celebrating your birthday, when you were supposed to turn a year older, when you were supposed to be by his side as you blew your candle, he thought that this must have been his penance, a consequence of the twisted journey he had decided to walk on.

But wasn’t this just too painful?

Wasn’t his punishment too cruel to have the world gave him you, only to wretch you away from his arms?

Wasn’t it too cruel to have loved and lost you?

Yoongi let out a humorless chuckle, the puffs of smoke coming from his lips as he looked at what once was your home. It was your birthday, and tomorrow was your second death anniversary.

How he survived the existence without you, he would never know. He decided that he would never stop looking for you because accepting that you were gone from this fucking earth was not an option. He could feel inside the dead heart of his that yours were still beating. He knew a love as immense as what he felt for you wouldn’t die as easily as that. No.

Min Yoongi would find you.

“Happy birthday, my angel,” he whispered to nothingness, only the moon bore witness to his greeting, the night enveloped him in a solitary embrace. The echoes of his sentiment lingered in the air, hoping that his words reached you where you were.

---

“Happy birthday, eomma,” Jung Hoseok finished the song lightly, clapping the chubby little hands of your son in sync with the tune of the song. Your son was giggling as he bounced him on his lap, looking over his long lashes to Hoseok.

“Careful, the candle’s just in front of you,” he warned before shuffling the cake an inch closer to you. He came home almost an hour ago from his work in the docks with a box of cake in his hands he bought. You could no longer count how many times the three of you moved over the year, the last one being the most suspicious to you when after you came home from the market, he had already packed your bags. Before you knew it, he was already driving away from the town.

You lived in so many places.

You never felt at home in any of them.

It was unfair how you only felt at home when you were in his arms.

You clutched your walking stick on one hand, the other cautiously running your hand on the table to detect the cake’s placement.

“I’m not fully blind yet, Hoseok,” you admonished him teasingly before closing your eyes and wishing with all your heart that your son grew up happy. You wished to the heavens that his fate was kinder to him, that he didn’t have to suffer the way you did. You prayed that his fate was free from the shadows that haunted your own past.

You wished that he could live the life he deserved.

“Eomma,” he called for you, lifting his chubby arms to go to you. Hoseok cooed at him before lifting him to your lap carefully. You felt the warmth of his little arms encircling your neck, tiny lips pressing sweet kisses on your cheeks before erupting into giggles. "Eomma!"

A smile graced your face as you soaked in the pure joy radiating from your beloved child. Leaning in, you planted a loving kiss on the person you now cherished most in the world. His eyes lit up in response, a mirror image of his father's, carrying the same warmth and affection he did when he looked at you.

Hoseok watched the two of you from his seat. It was almost comical how he loathed your son’s father with all his heart, only to love his son with the same intensity. If he couldn’t end that bastard brother of his, if he didn’t have it in him to finish the job and kill you, then he would just take the life Yoongi was supposed to live.

He would never let go of the two of you- not when he found peace in this little family. The only way he would let go of this was if the only person he loved came back to him. But that was impossible, right? After all, Yoongi made sure that she would cease to exist in this world.

Wasn’t this the crueler revenge, he thought. Wasn’t this what Min Yoongi deserved?

It was almost amusing to think how he could have been dead if not for one of his brothers that saved him and you that fateful night. He could have almost missed this little slice of heaven had it not been for his brother, the only one who knew that he was still alive.

---

Almost two years ago, somewhere in a small province of South Korea

You woke up with a start, your heart beating faster as evidenced by the spike in the heart monitor attached on your bruised skin. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, attached to your bruised skin, echoed in the room, its pace mirroring the accelerated beat of your heart. The sudden awareness left you momentarily disoriented, and the sterile environment around you hinted at the gravity of the situation. As your senses sharpened, you couldn't shake the feeling that the throbbing in your chest was not only from the abrupt awakening but also from the lingering echoes of a disconcerting dream or a painful reality.

Every single thing that happened went back to you.

Every single detail of that night, of the way he smiled so tenderly at you, of the way he softly told you that he would be back, of the way a strange man entered your house and threatened you.

The recollection was vivid, etched into your consciousness like a haunting melody.

You remembered the way Suga’s face became cold the moment he saw that man. You remembered not seeing even a trace of the man you loved.

You remembered the truth and the pain that came with it, and then you remembered thinking it was your end. Beyond it all, beyond all the betrayal, lies and deceit that unfolded, you remembered wishing that he would be fine after all of that like the fool you were.

Wincing, you lifted your fragile hand to your shoulder, feeling a faint pain where the bullet had pierced your skin.

“Don’t move,” a tired voice sounded on your left. Startled, you turned to look at the source, only to find the man who attempted to kill you leaning against the wall, his own arm bandaged, his handsome face colored with faint bruises.

Hoseok didn’t come out of it unscathed, no. He looked so hallow. It was like he was a lost child, like a man that lost his purpose, like he was a shell of what once was a soul.

He must have seen your alarmed expression. He waved his other arm, his jaw clenching from the events that transpired. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You blinked at him, never trusting a word that came out of his mouth. It would be difficult for you when you saw how he unleashed hell that night.

“I-I,” you swallowed, your dried throat making it harder to speak. “d-don’t believe y-you.”

He watched you for a moment before nodding his head. That was fair, he thought. “How are you feeling? You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

What?

“Y-you waited that long to kill me?” you asked, your voice hoarse as you sat down. If he was going to end you, then you wouldn’t take it lying down.

Wordlessly, he crossed the room, lifting the glass of water on your bedside table, the straw turned to you. “Drink.”

You glared at him, distrust and anger in your eyes as you met his emotionless ones.

“I’m not going to kill you.”

You scoffed, turning your head away from him to look at where on earth you could have been. The hospital room was small, the window offering no clue as to your whereabouts. You wondered where Suga could have been.

Did he make it out alive?

Was he hurt?

Was he looking for you?

Did you want him to after what you knew?

“I do draw the line on killing expectant mothers.”

Latibule 2.III

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #yandere min yoongi #yoongi fic #mafia min yoongi #bts mafia au #suga x you #suga x reader

592 notes · View notes

anyalovesu · 11 days ago

Text

𝓷ever recover

idol!Heeseung x lsf member!reader

— get over the tv show and live life like you used to. that’s what you promised yourself when your members chose you to participate in the tv show your group was selected to star in. it was never your intention to fall for heeseung in real life, but you’re here anyway.

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

genre : fluff/angst w comfort (?)

pairings : heeseung x fem!reader

wc : 14.2k+ words

cw :

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ idol!au ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ reader has eating issues (tw!!) ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ yunjin and yeonjun being in a rs mentioned ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ reader is a member of le sserafim, '03 liner ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ (ft. beomgyu from txt, lsf members, and en- members ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ heavily inspired by joy and sungjae from when they were in we got married ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ slight smut (?) very suggestive ending ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ mentions of sasaengs, obsessive fans, death threats ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ lmk if i missed something hehe ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ not proofread (yet hehe)

playlist : i'll never recover જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“It’s going to be an amazing opportunity for you to actually give people some perspective!” Chaewon pleads with you in the common room while you sit there with the rest of the girls, just arriving from your dinner with your managers where you found out that Le Sserafim was offered to participate in a tv show.

Arguably, this would definitely make or break your group's long standing record of hate trains. You’ve gotten used to it at this point. This would assuredly bring some of those back in a bigger surge most probably, but the rest of them were arguing that it would be a good opportunity to show them a side of you that they have not before—especially since you were always branded as the man-repellant of the group ever since your debut with your playful show of disinterest in dating.

“And if the perspective doesn’t turn out to be what you think it is?” You sighed, fiddling with the strings of your hoodie. You wished you could banter about this the way you normally do, but by the way you were hyper aware of the camera clipped on your table, you knew it would probably not be the best idea to do right now.

“Then you did it for the plot!” Yunjin playfully jokes, making you snort quietly. “If it doesn’t turn out well, then we can just laugh at it and say that you did it for the plot!”

You’ve always done that. You were never one to have inhibitions to do whatever you pleased, which also meant you were a big pain in the ass for your managers and PR associates. This was a huge step in the box on what you usually do, but you’re not going to argue that the seemingly impulsivity of it all seemed very on-brand for your fearless and playful persona.

“It would’ve been you most probably if you stayed in the US with your parents. I’m pretty sure those American boys would’ve been head over heels for you!” Yunjin egged on even more.

“When am I going to find out who it is?” you asked your manager who was sitting on one end of the coffee table in the common room.

“Once you’re in the show, they’re going to surprise you on who it is?”

“Is he going to be in a different company or the same?” You bombarded your manager with questions which ultimately made your group laugh with how persistent you are with milking your manager for answers. Most of you knew that he probably already knows who it is by the way he tried to avoid your gaze while actively deflecting your questions.

“You have to wait!” he says finally. “I just want to know if you are really sure about this. You know we can always decline the offer.”

“Crazy shit like this doesn't come everyday,” you laughed. You knew it was unreasonable and the arguments you have to defend your claim on why you should actually do the show would probably not stand well in court but you are you. You’re always going to say yes to the most outrageous shit that offers itself to you. You were fearless after all.

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You paced around to try and calm your nerves when the production staff from the tv show began to set up in your practice room where you and your members would meet your virtual “husband” for the first time through a mystery zoom call. You were oriented that they would have you message each other first and try to get as much information from each other before finally going to the meet up place tomorrow so that you could formally meet. As the call time drew closer and closer, you couldn’t help but feel your feet turn cold, finding yourself in deeper waters than you would usually dare to go to. Besides, who even has an absolutely insanity of a mind to agree with this outrageous show? You were starting to delude yourself that this was a prank and that your manager wasn’t actually going to have you marry for the next 30 days. You have a busy schedule! You are already going insane as it is, is he really going to let you do this?

“Honey, come back here,” Yunjin laughed as she pulled you to plop on the couch next to her and the girls. “You know I can’t tell if you're anxious or you're excited?”

“I don’t know either,” you chuckle at her. It was true. The thrill of being out of the dorms and living with a complete stranger for an entire month was exciting. In a game of most likely to, the girls would’ve pointed at you the same way they did when the offer was discussed with your group in that dinner. This really was something you would most likely do compared to the other girls but whoever you were going to be paired with will determine how this is going to go. You have a massive ten-wheeler truck of hate waiting to crush you and leave you for dead without an active career in entertainment. You were worried this was not the amazing opportunity they made you think it was.

“Okay, we’re starting in 2,” the producer smiled at you girls as he held up a hand to get your attention.

You couldn’t help but stare at your phone on the table showing your lock screen, watching the numbers turn from the displayed time before the director finally calls everyone’s attention by handing your leader white box adorned with a bright red ribbon around it, holding it securely.

“Oh!” Chaewon giggles excitedly, “I can't believe my baby Y/N is going to be the first to get married! My baby!”

You were only 3 years younger than Chaewon and a few months younger than Kazuha, but you were always referred to as Chaewon’s baby because of the doting nature that the leader had for you and your group’s youngest member, Eunchae.

Chaewon happily helps herself in opening the gift box, finding an envelope and a phone in the box.

“Oh, you have a mission card! And a phone!” Sakura chimes.

“Is it your invitation? Am I invited to your wedding? What is the phone for?” Eunchae bombards you with questions, excitement practically bursting through her seams.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married before your Unnies!” Yunjin adds.

Chaewon opens the envelope to find a mission card which read in wedding-esque lettering,

“To Y/N, your virtual marriage starts tomorrow but first you must get to know your virtual husband through a special couple app that we have made especially for you.”

“Do you think your husband will be younger or older?” Yunjin asked.

“I hope he is older or the same age,” you replied politely. “I don’t want him to be younger. It would feel wrong. My grandpa is older than my grandma, and my dad is also oppa to my mom. I also have a little brother who is only younger than me by exactly a year. That would feel really weird.”

“I think older would also be fitting for you,” Sakura replied. “ I think you need someone who will take care of you and you tend to be a little stubborn towards your peers that are your age.”

“She literally does not eat unless it’s the unnies that tell her to eat,” Kazuha complained. “She would literally just watch me eat!”

“I am taught to not eat before my elders do!” you argued, remembering that because you were raised in a traditional household before you moved in with your grandparents, who also upheld necessary traditional values, in Uiwang-si when you told your parents you wanted to be a musician in Korea, you were very connected to what you were taught to be disrespectful and what not.

“Girl, you are just a picky eater and are always looking for an excuse to skip meals,” Yunjin chuckled. “I hope your husband makes you eat different things.”

“I’m going to eat ramyeon.” you joked.

“I hope my brother-in-law does not make you eat ramyeon,” Eunchae laughed. “You need to eat healthy, too much ramyeon cannot be good for you.”

“Brother-in-law?!” Chaewon sounded appalled upon hearing Eunchae call the mystery man as such already.

“They are virtually married, are they not?” Sakura laughed at Chaewon, poking fun at the excessive reaction from the leader. “I agree that we should call him brother-in-law from now on.”

“Tomorrow! The virtual marriage starts tomorrow!”

After the yap session, which you were very sure was going to be in fast forward once the episode airs, you finally decided to open the app to find your virtual husband already sent you a message.

“He sent me a message already!” You laughed dryly, trying not to make you seem too excited before you deadpanned, “oh I already feel like the prettiest person in the world.”

Hello. Do you play video games?

“Oh! He asked if she plays video games!” Kazuha happily jumps as soon as she sees the message.

“Oh no!” Chaewon jokingly whines. “They are going to play video games all day!”

Yes. I play Valorant.

“I have a feeling that they will bond very well!” Yunjin announces. “The vibes are vibing right now and they have a total of 2 messages to each other!”

The next few messages were responded to very quickly, both parties seemingly anticipating the response of the other. You could help but start to wonder who your virtual husband was or was this some elaborate prank to get you to break and show a new character that the media hasn’t seem to unlock yet. It was a crazy idea after all.

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“Hi guys,” you chuckled towards your little camera mounted on a small tripod, even though cameramen surrounded the HYBE Cafe to capture the scene. “Good afternoon!” You made sure to bow and greet everyone from the production staff and the cafe staff before making your way to the seat that you were oriented to sit in.

“I was told that I had to prepare a gift,” you started after propping your mini camera on the table. “So, my gift is in here…” you made sure to let them see the little brown box that you and Kazuha decorated in your dorm last night after you had packed your things to move for a month with the mystery virtual husband that you will meet today.

You were told that while the two of you will be living together, given that company would not fully allow you sleeping next to someone remotely close to tempting you to ruin your own career, you were assured that after filming you are allowed to sleep in the other room in the apartment they were going to make you stay in for the next 4 weeks.

“I’m just going to spoil it,” you yap while waiting to be signalled that your on-screen partner is there already. “It’s a gaming keyboard since he mentioned that he plays video games. I thought maybe I should get him an xbox controller but I’m not sure if he plays games that use that. So a keyboard would be more generic to give. I promise to give better gifts to my virtual husband when I get to know him better.”

As if on cue, right after you talked to your little camera about your gift, you were asked to put on a blindfold because your virtual partner has arrived and they want you to have a first look at each other at the same time.

“You may now take off your blindfold,” the producer instructed before you tugged on the lace of the blindfold behind your head.

Your eyes had to take a good few seconds before it could adjust and recognize the person sitting across you.

“Oh shit.”

You immediately slapped a hand over your mouth in surprise that you actually said it out loud. You only meant to keep it in your thoughts, but it’s Lee Heeseung from Enhypen.

His fans are going to hunt you down, you were so sure of it but the assuring look on his face as surprise wore off of it as he got used to looking at you made you seem more comfortable.

You’ve interacted with him a couple of times before. Maybe made a tik tok with him once or twice. The ship was very unlikely, you weren’t very sure why your managers agreed to this, whereas if they had placed Kazuha or Yunjin in your place, considering the amount of manips he has with your other members, they would’ve gone more viral.

“Hello,” he bowed to you politely, even getting up in his seat again to do a full 90 degree bow. You found yourself mirroring his actions almost immediately.

“Lee Heeseung,” he introduced himself, holding his hand out.

“L/N Y/N,” you replied in the same tone before accepting his hand to shake.

“Did you have a hunch on who your virtual partner would be?”

You both looked at each other, trying to recall from the conversation last week before shaking your head. There were a couple of other idols that played video games—it could've been your best friend, Beomgyu for all you cared.

Oh shit. Beomgyu. He is going to crash out when he finds out you're married to his other bestie for the next month and you haven't even told him you're doing this.

“How are you feeling then? Now that you already know who your partner is for the next few weeks?” The production staff was giddy. They were through the roof with squeals from behind the camera every now and then.

“Choi Beomgyu is going to kill me for virtually marrying his other bestie,” you replied frankly, holding back your laughter as you looked at the director. “Ya! He's going to lecture me for hours about marrying him!”

“I think he will kill me first—”

“We made sure Beomgyu will not burst through the door,” your director announces.

“Unless he is tied up in the basement for the next 30 days, we are never sure if he's not going to burst into our apartment instead,” Heeseung jokes, leaning back against his chair.

You take a good look at him. If you were to be honest, you've never looked at him for this long. By some fucked up standard, you have trained yourself not to look at people for too long, at least not long enough for unsuspected cameras to capture. You've never had a dating rumor since debut which was honestly a big deal for you—and now this. But that's besides the point.

Heeseung reeked of charisma. He had this good aura around him that made you feel comfortable. He was undeniably handsome and lean. God. He seemed like his parents carefully crafted him with handpicked good genes from their body and took their absolute time of their lives creating him with love—he definitely did not looked like he was made from a fuck and go situation. He was a masterpiece himself—god what are you even thinking?

“Y/N, Heeseung asked for your coffee order,” your manager repeated, snapping you back to reality.

Heeseung chuckled at your previous zoned-out state. He daresay you looked adorable with your pupil blown out and seemingly in deep thought to not recognize that you were being instructed to do something.

“Oh it’s just a Spanish Latte, thank you so much,” you replied to him. He grinned at you as he nodded before you hid your face in embarrassment.

The crimson in your face began spreading to your ears which made the production team squeal in delight at your sudden shyness. Even your manager and Heeseung’s manager who sat closely to the director could not hide the stupid grin on their faces as the cameramen tried to capture the obvious blush on your face.

“This should be illegal, why does he smile like that?” you playfully talked to your small camera on the table. “He looks like he knows everything about me but not in a creepy way!”

“Really?”

Oh sweet babybel cheese. He heard that.

“No! It was a joke!” You panicked, hiding your face with your hands as you kept your head low on the table to avoid looking at him again.

It hasn’t been an hour and you’ve already embarrassed yourself for about more times than your hands could count. Everything Sakura just taught you about flirting before you came here was suddenly out the window. You were a huge bag of disappointment and embarrassment right now and you don’t even know how you managed to do that much in such a short span of time.

“I’m just really flustered, I’m sorry,” you apologized before coming up with another yap topic, “I have been training since I was 14 and was homeschooled before that. My social skills had to be developed in training.”

“My manager only told me, my partner was from Uiwang-si,” he told you. “My manager hasn’t told me anything after that.”

“He's right! I am from Uiwang-si! My grandparents live there!” You replied happily. “I have lived there since I was 14.”

“I was born there!”

“We should visit there before our marriage ends! My grandpa is going to have a heart attack if he finds that I came there with a husband!” You laughed. “I brought my friends there one time, and then Beomgyu was there! He told me after that if Beomgyu hadn't been the way he is, he would've assumed he was my boyfriend and his blood pressure would have shot up.”

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“How would you describe your childhood?” you asked, reading the cue cards they had given you as your “get to know each other activity”.

“Hard,” he jokingly laughed. “Looking back at it now, half of my childhood was training and worrying if I'll ever debut.”

He made it sound light and funny but it was a reality for many people, especially in the kpop industry. Once upon a time, you also thought about whether you should've just continued pursuing your ballet career in the US because your dream of the kpop scene did not seem to go anywhere. You were lucky your grandmother insisted that you continue your ballet lessons on top of training with Source back then so that you'd always had that safety net if ever you ended up not pursuing your kpop career.

“You debuted though,” you reminded him, his face softening at your tone and your statement. “Arguably one of the best performers of our generation also. So I guess, the hard work paid off, huh?”

Heeseung was stunned. He's always reminded of how far he's come by many of his peers but somehow, hearing it from someone who trained for a year longer than he did, validated something in him. He knew you would be able to understand what it felt like to hold your career so dearly after working day in and day out for it.

“It did. Yours too.”

Heeseung knew about you. He would be lying if he said he didn't have a tiny crush on you. You were highly regarded as Source's golden child. You were their secret weapon trainee and he's always known that whenever it may be, when you debut, you were going to make it big—international, even. And now you are sitting in front of him, after you did make it international with your Coachella stint, which you and your members did well in his opinion despite the criticisms. Maybe you could give him a couple of tips on what he can do better for their turn next year..

“I remember seeing you in the Hybe building,” you smiled at him. “Source was just acquired by Hybe and I was relatively a new recruit. I think you and some of your other members were preparing to go to I-land back then. I had a short conversation with Jay because he heard that there was another American in the building.”

You were a spectacle to Heeseung from the get go. He knew Jay spoke to you but he couldn’t do the same after he got intimidated by the rapid English words that made your conversation with him seem so enjoyable for the both of you. He didn’t want to insert himself into a situation he didn’t know how to sustain, so he stayed back.

“That’s why he knows you!” he laughs. “You did very well in your training too. We were really happy when we heard the news that you were going to debut!”

“He was really a good brother figure to me,” you explained. “Him and Yunjin always made me feel close to home.”

“I am looking forward to making you feel at home too then,” he replied, making you cackle at his pick-up line.

“To be fair, Uiwang-si is my home too, so I am looking forward to that!”

“You haven’t answered the question yet, though,” he reminds you, pointing at your cue card, reminding you once again that you have lost yourself in a stream of thought.

You look at your cue card to check the question once again as you laughed at yourself, trying very hard to focus on what you were actually doing.

You thought of your childhood but it seemed that it wasn’t any different than his. You were dancing the moment you were able to balance yourself on your own. You’ve been doing ballet since you were three, did full time training as soon as you were old enough to be in a pre-professional program before you were recruited by Source Music in a ballet recital when you were 14. That somehow awakened a dream in you that you didn’t know you had. You wanted to resist it at first. Ballet has been your whole life—you are leaving an entire career of continuous conditioning, training and dance competitions for a chance to be in the spotlight in your home country. It seemed far-fetched to leave an entire life behind for what could be but it was what your heart desired and being the ever so impulse-driven person that you are—it brought you here.

“Ballet has been my entire childhood. I was on my toes for half of it, and crying for the half because I feel like I will never be good enough or because something hurts,” you explained to him while holding back a laugh. “I think I will still be doing that if I didn't debut but you know, I don't think I'll be as happy.”

Heeseung could watch you talk all day. It seems all too surreal to even fathom that he will be virtually married to the girl he had a tiny crush on before he went to I-Land. You were still a sight to see, even years after the last time he was in close proximity.

The day eventually ended and you were in the living room of your home for the next month. All the cameras were either shut off or taken home by the production staff at last so you were able to sit comfortably on the living room couch watching your favorite show on the TV.

“I'm making ramyeon,” Heeseung calls from the kitchen connecting to the living room. “Do you want some?”

“Yes, oppa!” you replied to him, raising a thumbs up just in case he didn't hear you properly.

You have decided to drop the honorifics for the camera and just let me gradually lose it as time goes after the cameras are out during one of your a while ago.

It didn't feel like you were going to have a hard time working and living with Heeseung. He was a gentleman after all and has a nurturing nature in him. You know Chaewon wishes he's not going to feed you ramyeon right now just like they had predicted but it could be worse. You and Heeseung didn't have any interactions personally other than for the tiktoks prior to today so it's a huge step already to have him cook for you.

“We should go buy groceries tomorrow with unnies,” you tell him quietly as you both enjoyed your own bowl of ramyeon and some spam. “They will not be very happy if we eat this for the rest of the month.”

He did not object to it, nodded before asking, “Did you really want to do this?”

You look at him, curious as to why he would ask that suddenly. Was he expecting someone else? Did he not want you to be here?

You shook your head, trying to deflect, even though deep down inside of you, you wanted to do this just to see how it would turn out.

“You?”

“Just wanted to know how it would turn out,” he snorted. “Jake didn't want to do it. He would be a mess the entire show too. My guy is too nervous and too hormonal for his own good.”

“Could've turned it down?”

“I barely had a girlfriend when I was in highschool and right now, our fans would quite literally destroy anyone remotely close to seemingly dating me.” He chuckled. “I don't think I'll ever be with someone anyway in my 20’s. So I just went for it.”

The utter ingenuity of his explanation somehow got you because you did feel the same. Yunjin was blasted when she got the dating rumor with Yeonjun. The world seemed to close on her when it happened because it seemed like everyone was trying to end our career because of it. It never stopped though, people trying to end your group. You just started to learn not to give a damn what they have to tell you.

“What about you?”

“I don't really care what happens,” you reply. “I don't even know how I feel about it right now. But I'm glad it's you.”

“I'm glad it's you too,” he chuckled before going back to just sitting there in comfortable silence while you watched Grey's Anatomy on the TV.

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“You look unwell,” Heeseung points out, concern laced in his voice as he watches you come out of your room to get ready for the day. “Can you still go grocery shopping today? I don’t mind going by myself if you’re not feeling well.”

You shrugged. You hated flaking out of plans, besides when you survived practice with a mild fever before, grocery shopping isn’t something you were afraid of doing while a little hot. You were sure that you were okay.

“We can do it tomorrow. You really look like you’re going to faint,” he explained before rising up from his seat from the dining table to help you walk to the other end of the table from where he sat. “It’s totally okay, Y/N.”

“Oppa, I’m okay.”

“Jay can do the grocery for us!” he announced.

“The producers will kill us,” you forced out a laugh. “I’m okay, Heeseung. I’ll just take an Aspirin and I’ll be fine for the rest of the day.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, opening the fridge to take the microwavable bibimbap he got this morning. “Do you want this, or cereal?”

“You got us breakfast?” You looked surprised that he did. You always woke up with food on the table because Sakura hated not seeing you and Kazuha have breakfast. So she always made you two foods before you could even wake up.

“I wanted to make something better than anything that goes in the microwave but this would do,” he replied, shyly scratching the back of his head as he avoided your gaze.

He woke up earlier than he usually would that morning to take a walk outside of the apartment building to check for food stalls or convenience stores he can get you breakfast from. He contemplated if he was going to get bibimbap or something that he thought was more your thing as an American. So he ended up buying a ready-made bibimbap that he could easily microwave at home and a box of cereal and milk. He really was hoping for a more thought of breakfast for the both of them since it was their first time eating breakfast together but upon thinking of it last night, which honestly was the first time he was up that late that wasn’t because of practice or League, he realized that he’s not confident about cooking anything besides spam and ramyeon.

And the thing was Heeseung wanted to impress you. Everyone knew you were a lazy eater, and he wanted to make sure that with him, despite all that, you were being fed very well. So, giving you options was the most doable effort he has for now. He took a mental note on his way home that he will make sure to message Jay or one of your members later this dinner to teach him how to cook anything you might want to eat tonight.

“That bibimbap looks nice actually,” you replied. Heeseung nodded before placing the food container in the microwave to heat it up for you.

“Are you really sure you can film today?”

“I have a mild fever, oppa,” you laughed at him. “I’m not going to die.”

“I don’t want to be accused of neglecting my wife, excuse me!” he playfully argued. “If you really want to go, the production team will be here in about 2 hours, so we better start getting ready after this. Take your time though, two hours is still a long time.”

You were fortunate enough to be with people who always took care of you. That being said, you never had to look for anywhere to fulfill the desire to be loved, because you were loved in every home you went to. Dating never interested you before, to be frank. Besides the fact that your manager would more or less kill you if you ended up in a dating scandal, you were too busy to meet anyone. You didn't know many people outside of Le Sserafim. You barely had any friends predebut because you were homeschooled and your ballet class friends weren't exactly friendly with you after they found out that you were training to be a kpop idol and were not too focused on the same goal as them.

It made your heart race that someone who barely knew you managed to show you kindness. The things that years of struggling to make genuine connections taught you somehow vanished into thin air as Heeseung gently places the back of his hand against your forehead to check if you were still hot before nodding when he felt that you didn’t feel very warm anymore.

“Just tell me if you don’t feel well along the way… yeah?” His bending down to be at eye-level with you was the cherry on top of it all.

Who is this man and why does he know how to make your knees feel weak?

“Okay,” you replied shortly, smiling at him, your eyes crinkling on the sides which was a feature Heeseung was sure he’s never seen before and he’s only noticed now that his face is so close to yours.

You were… beautiful.

He knew that all along, long before you were this close to him. But it was like seeing what beautiful is in 4K—like all of a sudden being this close to you gave him a whole new definition of beautiful, because even the texture of your face makes him wonder how long it took for God to craft you… it must’ve taken them a lot of time.

And you would’ve fully fallen for it, if you just kept your eyes on him—if the corner of your eye didn’t catch the cameraman hauling this huge filming equipment to capture the moment because now you have this pit in your stomach as if your heart has sunken into it.

It’s for the show. You have to remind yourself as Heeseung offers his hand for you to hold as you make your way out of the apartment that you shared.

“My grandma used to always bring me with her to the market,” you smiled at him. “I went home to them on the weekends. It sort of just became a normal thing for us to go to the market really early every Saturday morning.”

“Are you closer to your grandparents or your actual parents?”

“Well, my grandparents took care of me from the moment I landed here. So maybe now, I’m closer to them. I still have a very good relationship with my parents and my little brother. With my little brother, it’s a little better now than before, because we always used to fight but whenever I can take breaks and I could go home to New York, we bond a little better now,” You explained to him as you browsed through the meat section of the supermarket. “I suppose you and your brother are close too? I saw that clip from I-Land.”

“We are close,” he chuckled. “Every now and then we meet up to play basketball when we’re both free since he is in University.”

“I wish me and my brother still lived in the same country,” you laughed. “While I do treat Beomgyu like my brother, that idiot would pick fights with me and our entire day out would’ve been just us bantering about random things that don’t matter.”

The two of you kept on going around the supermarket trying to find novel things to make your apartment a little more interesting. So, by the end of it all, you had funky shaped coffee cups, mismatched plates and a couple other cutlery that you both picked for each other.

It really did seem that you and Heeseung were building a home for each other as you talked about each other’s upbringing over what color of plate the other should get. And while he thought he’d never be the type to enjoy those kinds of things, he figured that maybe hearing about the tiniest and the most mundane things about someone could be interesting if it was you that’s talking. He found out that you and Yunjin were family friends long before you were kpop trainees and actually flew to Korea together and how devastated you were when Yunjin went home to New York after PD48 and how somehow, you became HYBE’s way of convincing Yunjin to come back and join the girl group even though it did not take her a lot to say yes. And even in the things he would usually not enjoy getting done, like picking out meat for the upcoming days as he would rather just order take out—he seemed to enjoy it now that he’s with you.

And you didn’t feel any different. You don't have to feel anxious whenever you have to talk to a vendor as Heeseung would beat you to it every time. Oh and you had to pretend you didn’t notice how hard he blushed when an old lady told you that your boyfriend was a dream to have and how you playfully corrected that he is your husband. You enjoyed seeing Heeseung flustered.

“Today was a lot, right?” Heeseung laughed, throwing himself on the sofa, already showered and dressed in his pajamas. Which consisted of his grey sweatpants and a Hybe shirt that you were sure everyone from the company had.

“I hope I didn’t talk your ears out,” you replied at him, raising your head from your phone to look at him.

“I like listening to you talk,” he smiled.

And you couldn’t help it. Before you could even cover your face, you were already blushing and Heeseung is basking in his glory once again that he’s finally got his revenge from you flustering him a while ago in front of the production staff and the old lady.

“It is actually refreshing to hear someone else that isn’t one of my members,” he laughed. “Don’t get me wrong. I love those idiots, but I am enjoying hearing you talk. It’s like I have this personal podcast playing live all the time.”

Before you knew it, you were asleep on Heeseung’s shoulder. You were out all day after all running errands like a married couple should, it must’ve tired you. But in Heeseung’s opinion, you did not look tired at all.

Heeseung couldn’t help but feel his heart race as he watched your sleeping figure. It was too early to fall in love with you, but it did feel like that. You were so easy to love and he was all in for it like he has been doing it for a long time already. The way you would innocently explain things to him around the marketplace that he would ask you about somehow made him feel at ease that you weren’t going to judge him for not being as knowledgeable in life as you were. It was as if you were okay with helping him learn the things he should’ve known a long time ago. You were a breath of fresh air and it made him feel like he was free from the bounds of being perfect for the next few weeks while he’s with you.

He carefully lifted your head from your shoulder before picking you up and bringing you to your room. You are a heavy sleeper, he takes note in his mind as he pulls the covers over your resting body.

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“Don’t forget to eat lunch, okay?” Heeseung reminds you as he drops you off of your practice room with your members.

“Hi oppa!” Eunchae happily skips towards you to give you a hug as she smiles at your husband brightly. “How is unnie adjusting at home with you! Is she eating well? I hope you’re not staying up too late playing video games!”

Heeseung could tell that you were so well taken care of by your members. You were their second youngest after all. He was so glad that so far, Eunchae’s inquiries were all being met. He’s managed to make at least a decent breakfast for the both of you this morning with the help of Jay from facetime. Was Jay excited about waking up at 5 in the morning to teach his brother how to cook? No. But did he do it anyway for the sake of giving his darling virtual sister-in-law the breakfast that she deserves? Oh yes.

“Of course, I am feeding Y/N! Right, jagiya?”

Eunchae screamed in excitement as soon as the nickname slipped out of Heeseung. She was ecstatic, running over to the other girls to tell them what she just heard. The other girls screamed as well. The both of you couldn’t help but laugh at their reactions.

“Jagiya…” you trailed. “That’s new.”

“I’m sorry, was it too much?” Heeseung peed, immediately going into panic mode, thinking that you weren’t comfortable with it. “It just slipped, I promise!”

“It’s cute,” you answered, chuckling at his panicked state before pressing a soft kiss on his cheek as you let him go. “Go now. Your members must be looking for you. You’d be late.”

You hurriedly closed the door before you ran towards your girls, leaving Heeseung a blushing mess at what you just did.

“Did you just kiss that poor boy?” Yunjin screamed, grasping your arm as she made you look at her.

“He is my husband, unnie!” You explained, making it sound as it was a matter of fact that she should have already known. “What did you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, maybe show some decency because there is a kid in the room?!” Yunjin dramatically retorted as she pointed at Eunchae who was still buzzing in exhilaration from witnessing that.

“Is he treating you alright, at least?” Sakura asked softly as she wrapped her arms around your waist. “Are you eating dinner every night? Eating is always your problem, Y/N. He should be feeding you alright.”

“He is feeding me alright,” you sighed. “I heard him talking to Jay this morning. He asked Jay how to make a proper breakfast. Is that enough evidence that I am eating alright?”

“You're smiling a little differently,” Chaewon teased. “The show got you good, no?”

“What the hell do you mean I’m smiling differently?” you voiced, brows furrowing as you turned to Chaewon, whose face expression you couldn’t quite figure out if it was happy or scared. She was smiling but her eyes told you something else.

“Let’s just say you do end up falling in love with him,” your leader mumbled. “You do know the managers are never going to let you do it, right?”

She said it so calmly and nicely that you almost forgot how harsh that truth was. The worst part was realizing she was right. The few days that you have spent living with Heeseung really had you smiling differently and you’ve only realized now that she pointed it out. You were starting to like him. But for what? You were never going to be with him in real life after the show. You don’t even know if he likes you that way outside of the show.

You looked around for anyone familiar from the production staff of the show to see if anyone was filming it. Relief washed over you as soon as you confirmed that they stuck with their terms and did not film your activities when you are separated.

“Y/N,” Sakura cooed as soon as she realized how Chaewon’s words affected you. “It’s okay! You’re going to be okay! I mean it’s a normal thing to fall for people like Heeseung! He is so kind and generous to you!”

“Right! I would fall in love too if someone made that much of an effort to feed me!” Kazuha added.

“I don’t want you to see falling in love with Heeseung as a bad thing,” Chaewon sighed, moving closer to you as she reached for your hand. “We’re not even sure how long we’re going to do this for and if we’ll ever have the chance to fall in love with anyone with the schedule that we have!” She squeezed your hand before lifting your chin up to make you look at her. “I’m just saying that it’s going to be hard but I cannot blame you for feeling that way. You’re still a human person, Y/N and falling in love with someone who is kind to you is a human experience. That is okay to have.”

While she did have a point, you did realize how sad and unfortunate it was to be in a situation like that.

“You still have 2 and a half weeks to enjoy his company,” she reminded. “After that we’ll ask you how you feel about it and then decide our course of action from then on.”

“What's important is, whatever your decision is,” Yunjin smirked. “Whether or not it’s going to get us in trouble, we are going to support you! Even if it meant all of us would have to sign an NDA again to keep your future relationship with Heeseung a secret.”

2 weeks and 2 more days. After this, you can just live your life like you never knew him and maybe then your accumulating feelings for him would fade.

“What do you want for dinner?” Heeseung asked, standing by the door frame of your room, watching you stare at your laptop that you brought with you since your normal gaming set-up was too much of a hassle to transfer just to bring back after a month.

The production team had already left a good half an hour ago after the both of you were briefed about tomorrow’s agenda which was hanging out with his members for half the day and with yours for the remaining half. You felt lethargic after all the practice you had to do for your upcoming promotions as your EP was waiting to be released by the approaching month, around the same time this show will go on air. On top of that, your conversation with Chaewon still clung to you, and you were so desperately trying to get your head out of it by playing Valorant. But your trusty game to replace your worries with anger did not seem to work at all for you tonight. Heeseung standing by your door frame was not helping either.

“I don’t really feel like eating dinner tonight, Hee. I’m fine tonight,” you replied at him politely, glancing back at him to acknowledge his presence.

Heeseung clicked his tongue before walking over to see your game. He sat on your bed watching you play.

He’s never really entered your room before. You’ve entered his room a lot of times before when you watched him play League and when he taught you how to play his favorite game. Nothing malicious ever happened when you were in there so you weren’t expecting anything here either.

“Chaewon explicitly told me before the show started to never let you sleep without eating dinner,” he stated as soon as you died for the round. “So, I’m sticking with that. What do you want for dinner?”

“I’m not hungry,” you repeat, a sigh following as you avoided his gaze. “You can just not tell unnie that I didn’t eat dinner tonight.”

“Okay,” Heeseung shrugged before getting up and leaving your room. You let out a sigh of relief when he does, thinking that he finally left you alone.

Or so you thought. As soon as your door was shut once again, Heeseung was dialing Yunjin’s number in hopes that she can suggest anything he can cook up to make you eat dinner.

“Heeseung! Is everything okay?” Yunjin asked immediately as soon as she answered on the 3rd ring.

“Y/N doesn’t want to eat,” he confesses. “She just sounds upset and I don’t know if it was anything I did or something just upset her before coming here.”

“Oh,” Yunjin sighed from the other line. “Well, I don’t know if I can tell you what might be the reason why she’s like that but ramyeon should do the job of feeding her for the night. We don’t usually let her have it for dinner, but when she’s especially resistant to eating, which usually happens when she’s upset, we just let her have it.”

“So ramyeon is the solution to all of this?” he asked, a chuckle following his inquiry.

“Yes,” Yunjin laughed from the other line. “She will inhale that shit so fast and the dinner problem is done before you know it.”

“Would it be so bad to tell me what upset her?” he asked once again. “If it’s something I did, I want to know. I don’t want to keep on doing something that upsets her, Yunjin.”

“I'm afraid it’s something all of us have little to no control of, Heeseung.” Yunjin dejectedly replies. “If there was anything I could do about it, I would’ve done it myself. But it’s out of our hands. But it isn't anything in particular that you did, don’t worry about that anymore.”

As soon as the call was dropped, Heeseung got to work making your dinner.

On the other hand, Yunjin turns to Chaewon and Eunchae who’s looking at her in shock that Heeseung called her.

“What did he say?” Eunchae inquiries immediately.

“I really think the conversation about her and Hee not being able to be together even if they do end up falling for each other got to her,” Yunjin starts. “She doesn’t want to eat dinner. Heeseung called to ask if there’s anything he could do to somehow just not make her skip dinner.”

“And you didn’t tell him that he’s partly the reason why she’s upset?” Chaewon added.

“Of course I didn’t!” Yunjin sighed exasperatedly. “I don’t want to upset them both. They seem into each other and it’s just sad that it’s supposed to end. I wouldn’t have wanted it to end if that was me.”

Eunchae gave her a weird look, “Not because I like Heeseung. I’m just saying if that was me and someone else and I’m getting treated like a proper girl in love, I wouldn’t have wanted it to end. I don’t even know if I’ll ever get to experience anything remotely close to that ever again!” Yunjin explained right away.

“I just feel bad for Y/N,” Yunjin continues. “You know she’s all that uninterested in the idea of dating and all before but you know she’s a hopeless romantic.”

–

“I made you something,” Heeseung knocked on the door once again, holding up a bowl as he stood by the slightly open door.

“Heeseung—”

“Before you complain it’s ramyeon and Yunjin is going to lecture you tomorrow for not eating dinner if you don’t eat this because I asked her if there’s anything you would eat so she knows that you’re being hard right now,” Heeseung cuts you off before barging inside of your room and placing the bowl in front of you.

If Heeseung wasn’t fast enough, he wouldn’t have noticed that you weren’t playing anymore and was instead doing something with your digital audio workstation software open in your laptop but you managed to change the window before he could check the song title.

“Eat up,” Heeseung demands, as he picks up the chopsticks and puts them in your hands. “Can you do it or do I have to chew it for you.”

“You are a disgusting rat, Heeseung,” you rolled your eyes at him before letting out a chuckle. “Where’s yours?”

“They’re outside, I’ll eat when you’re done.”

“Get a chair and eat here,” you ordered. “It’s sad to eat alone.”

Without any objections, Heeseung does what you asked him to do. Which in reality made your heart skip at how willing he was to make sure you weren’t feeling lonely. He had to take in consideration that you never ate alone when you were with your girls. And whenever you did go in your solo activities alone, either one of the girls ate with you through facetime or your manager ate with you.

“You didn’t have to do this, Hee,” you mumbled at him as you devoured your bowl. Heeseung couldn’t help but smile fondly at you. Yunjin was right, you were going to inhale it.

“I wanted to do it,” he replied shortly.

You hummed in response, looking at your laptop screen where you watched your favorite show while you ate. You were half watching and half lost in thought on whether or not you should tell him or if it was too much information. There was a reason why your members rarely ever let you eat alone and it was a reason only a specific group of people knew.

“You wanna know why they always make sure someone is always with me whenever I eat?”

Heeseung raised his eyebrows, looking at you with intent before he asked, “why?”

“The people in my school used to bully the fuck out of me during lunch,” you recalled. “I was in second grade when these kids started to make fun of me for bringing Korean food for lunch. I used to hate lunch breaks because it would mean that my favorite food in the world would get picked on for another day yet. Until people just started avoiding me at lunch tables and they would sometimes shoo me away from their table. It was too much for me back then so I just stopped eating lunch to avoid it. I would throw my food in the trash before getting on the bus because my mom would kill me if she found out that I wasn’t eating the food she prepared.”

“And the principal caught me throwing my food away one time and told my mom, and of course she was furious but then she heard why I didn’t eat lunch. Even if she switched up the food she gave me it still would’ve been unappetizing to eat and the kids still would bully me for ‘wanting to fit in’. I mean to be fair, maybe I really wasn’t the prettiest girl when I was a kid, and it probably was the reason they didn’t stop the bullying even after my food was switched. But you know… kids will be kids… I just wished someone would stop them and tell them it was wrong, you know? Because one thing led to another and the next thing I knew I switched to homeschooling and food was just a bad memory to me because I blamed it so much for not having any friends.”

“I hung around with Minji a lot when I was scouted,” you continued. “But she got transferred to Ador and I was alone once again. Then, Beomgyu found me eating alone in the practice hallway and the little shit just sat with me and ate his sandwich next to me, outyapping me because I got really shy when an idol approached me out of pity.”

“You didn’t bring it up to him at all?” He asked curiously.

You shrugged, “Boy, I was already struggling to debut. My friends were one by one getting chosen to be in survival shows and getting placed in debut lineups. I was starting to delude myself if I really lived up to my secret weapon trainee title because they really showed no interest in putting me in a debut lineup any time soon and only wanted me to help produce songs for the meantime. I did not want them to think that I am barely improving and I still had the audacity to demand having an eating buddy?”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he sighed, obviously brought down by the sudden lore being spilled.

“It’s no problem anymore,” you told him. “Beomgyu actually managed to toughen me up and lectured me for hours on end whenever he found out that I didn’t eat which was honestly absurd because we’re not even related and he keeps saying he’s doing it out of pity. But that idiot did manage to tell my manager and my members about the eating situation when I debuted and they kept their word. I’m surprised he wasn’t the person you called a while ago.”

“I have no prior knowledge that Beomgyu had that kind of power over you,” he laughed.

“He doesn’t,” you snorted. “He just never gets tired of saying the same thing over and over and I don’t always have the braincells to listen to him. So it’s ramyeon first, if it doesn’t work, call Beomgyu.”

“You and Gyu are really close, no?”

“He’s like my older brother that I never had,” you tell him. “We like to joke that he only acts like such because it makes him feel responsible without doing much. We’re also really close in personality so the friendship works.”

“I’ll know when to call him then,” he smirked playfully.

“I’ll know when to decline his call then,” you retort.

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“Are you hot?” Heeseung asked as he reached for the mini fan that the staff was handing him as you and his members walked through the busy street trying to look for the restaurant that Jungwon found online.

“Not really—”

“Noona, we found it!” Ni-ki happily jumped as he ran back towards you and Heeseung, taking your hand quickly to bring you to the restaurant that was just a few stores away from where you and the rest of the older members were walking. Ni-ki reminded you so much of Eunchae. He started all shy and serious but did end up opening up to you and talking a lot once he got the hang of you.

“Your youngest really just stole your wife like that,” Jake teased as they watched Ni-ki open the door for you and get inside of the restaurant. “He looks like a kid excited to have his mom around.”

“She looks like she’s enjoying his company anyway,” Heeseung chuckled fondly, watching you and Ni-ki laugh at something as they entered the restaurant themselves. “Just let him be,” he tells them. He watches as you throw your head back like a kid while you laugh over something he’s yet to ask the context of, but he might just watch you laugh like this instead. You were adorable interacting with his youngest member like that.

“Have you ordered already?” Heeseung asked you.

“Oh, Jungwon handled all of the orders. I just told him to surprise me,” you replied, turning over to him as he reached for your hand. The weather outside was still very cold and it was a wonder how your hands stayed warm with that cold wind outside as if you had a personal heater inside of your body.

“Your usual food isn't on the menu though,” Heeseung replied, brows furrowing as his eyes trail back to Jungwon and Sunoo who were still finishing up the orders with the menu in their hands. “What if you don’t like it?”

“Then I’ll make you finish the rest of it,” you playfully squeezed his hand, making him shrug.

“And if I don’t like it?”

“We’ll pack it to-go and I’ll force myself to eat it at home,” you chuckled. “I wanted to see what your members would feed me, Heeseung. Chill. It’s not like I cannot go out of my usual food selection!”

–

“He's the laziest cook in the dorms,” Jay chuckled as he sat back with you while you two watched the other members play foot volleyball. “I was about to crash out on him when he called me that early but then he asked me how to make fucking curry at 4AM in the morning.”

“And you want to tell me what?”

“That I'm pretty sure Heeseung likes you—in love maybe,” he replied quietly, hoping that the mics won't be able to catch it as the smaller production team that went with you today only had one boom mic with them and it was being used towards the guys who were playing. “I heard he's been calling your members too to ask them how to make your favorite meals.”

“Jay, are you hearing yourself?” you ask, holding back a laugh as Heeseung tries to catch a falling Ni-ki before he lands on his butt after the younger attempted to kick a ball too early.

“Heeseung is a lovesick fool,” he laughed. “And you are a little dense to not notice that.”

You thought about it well. You'd be lying to say that you didn't notice that he was really kind to you and no friend would've gone the lengths of bringing you food in the practice room if you were too busy to grab food for yourself. Regardless of whether or not cameras were seeing what his efforts were, he did it anyway. But you've never been involved with anyone romantically—what do you know?

“Noona, join us!” Jungwon happily calls as he jumps. “Jay-hyung! Get up!”

You couldn't help but adore the cat-like leader. Jay helped you get up from your seat on the mat they laid down for you on the grass.

“Noona! Is in our team!” Jungwon declares that he and Ni-ki stood in front of you when Heeseung tried to take you.

“That is my wife!” Heeseung argued, trying to go around them to take you but the two were persistent.

“And we are around the same age, so she's ours!” Sunoo joined in, creating another wall on your side to close you away from Heeseung. “You guys are old!”

“You're not even 7 months older than Sunghoon!” Heeseung retorts. “Y/N! You're supposed to be on my side!”

“The kids want me on their team,” you laughed, reaching for Ni-ki's shoulder, which definitely was higher than you anticipated.

“The kids will always get their mom,” Jay shrugged jokingly, pulling Heeseung away so the round could start. “Even the court would agree.”

–

“Please give my gifts to the other boys, okay?” You told Jay as you got into the van, preparing to go to your afternoon schedule with your members this time.

“I'll make sure they thank you for it, Y/N,” he chuckled. “Don't worry about it.”

“They seem to love you very much,” Heeseung told you as soon as the van started moving.

You nodded. You noticed how they would make an effort to include you, even toning down their energy just to make sure they weren't tiring you out too much considering you still have things in your agenda after your time with them. Especially their younger members, they seemed pretty close to her despite only hanging out today.

Although you couldn't quite forget what Riki told you when you got to the park earlier, “I'm going to miss having you around when you and Hyung finish filming this show,” he told you.

You started to wonder how complicated it would be to maintain a good relationship with Enhypen after this show ends. You truly wanted to be friends with them after this. They were really a very friendly bunch after all. But if Jay is telling the truth, wouldn't that make it complicated? To remain friends with all of them but one because he had feelings for you before and the feeling is possibly mutual?

“Especially Ni-ki,” he chuckled. “That kid did not want to let go of you!”

“He's like Eunchae,” you chuckled at him. “Really shy at first, you would only get giggles from that poor girl. Then when she gets to know you she turns into yapperton 3000.”

“It's hard to comprehend that you're the second youngest in your group,” he shrugged.

“Still 3 years older than Eunchae though,” you smiled at him. “She is like everyone's little sister, then me and Zuha are twins. Yunjin is our big sister. Chaewon is our mom and Kkura is our fun gay aunt.”

“Do you think they'll like me?”

You were taken aback. Since when did Heeseung worry about being liked by anyone? Everyone likes Heeseung from the get go. The moment they lay eyes on him, he's already got this good aura around him and then he opens his mouth to sing and it's over for everyone. He has the qualities of a person that is likeable.

“You've met plenty of women in your life, Hee,” you laughed. “Especially being a male idol. You have a huge audience and the majority of them are women. I'm pretty sure you know that you are one of the very likeable men out there.”

“I appreciate that you think I'm likeable, but I can't just flirt with your sisters to make them like me!” He argued playfully. “Jagiya, do you think I annoy them?”

“For what?”

“For calling them all the time to teach me how to cook your dinner,” he explained. “Oh my god! What if noona thinks I'm annoying?”

“I'm pretty sure that's cute to them,” you chuckled, patting his knee to calm him down. “They like you, Hee. There's nothing to sweat about.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

–

“Hello, my baby!” Chaewon happily goes over to you to hug you before stepping aside to let Kahuza and Eunchae literally pounce into you to give you a hug, Yunjin follows suit before greeting Heeseung. Sakura does not give you anything less than that before fist bumping Heeseung. By this time, you’ve already gone back to your apartment to freshen up and get ready for your next agenda.

“We already ordered, by the way,” Yunjin declares. “Oh, Heeseung, I asked Y/N, your order. I hope she got it right?”

“I'll eat anything,” he replies shyly.

“Please order anything you like if I got your order wrong. I asked all your members a while ago about your food preferences because you never told me anything and you always just ate exactly the same thing I usually eat.”

Yunjin watched the conversation intently. Heeseung always looked at you with eyes no one could dim and good Lord. If that isn't love, then she does not know what is.

“You ate an unfamiliar order a while ago,” he reminds you. “I'll do the same to return the favor.”

“Stop being cute, I might throw up,” Sakura joked across from you. “Is she being hard to live with, Heeseung?”

“Aside from the fact that she takes her sweet time getting ready and does not like getting up early,” Heeseung started. “I think she's okay to live with.”

“Do you like unnie?” Eunchae blurts out, chin resting on her hands as she smiles at Heeseung innocently.

“Eunchae!” You didn’t mean to raise your voice, Eunchae seemed to know that already that’s why she bursted out laughing at everybody’s reaction because there was a lasting shocked face in Sakura’s face while Kazuha was laughing along with her, implying that she was in on the joke. Chaewon who was sitting next to Eunchae managed to playfully slap the younger’s arm in shock. And Yunjin… the ever so theatrical member, managed to choke on her water, when she heard Eunchae’s question.

“I don’t have a good enough reason not to like someone like Y/N,” Heeseung replied confidently. His chin even lifted a bit as he maintained eye contact with Eunchae as if convincing her to believe him.

The next thing you knew your heart was skipping beats as you watched him and Eunchae banter. You didn’t want to believe it because ultimately, the cameras are on and the mic can hear everything he’s saying right now… but he’s sounding a little too convincing and you don’t know how to feel about it.

“You didn’t have to go through all that banter with Manchae,” you whispered to him as soon as you felt him reach for your hand from under the table. “You don’t have to convince them.”

“I wanted to,” he replied coolly, fiddling with the rings on your fingers. “I want to convince them.”

“What for?” You asked as you watched him slide off the silver band from your middle finger to your ring finger. Your eyes followed the tiny little diamond encrusted on the top of your grandmother’s silver wedding band that she’s given you as a gift for your birthday a few months back.

To say that your heart was exploding was an understatement. You felt everything and anything all at once. You had to hold your breath and blink a couple of times to hold back your tears as he aligned it properly before he glanced at you.

“Because a husband must always prove that he is in love with his wife,” he replies before poking your cheek.

—

Somehow the conversation with Heeseung during that dinner never left you. You never got confirmation if he meant what he said or if he only did that because he knew the cameras were watching. In all honesty, you just want to believe it because it would hurt so much to hear that it isn’t real.

You liked Heeseung.

You were tired of denying it and sitting in front of your desk trying to get your little passion project song done has never felt more real as you try to justify that it's a normal thing to fall in love with people like Heeseung. It's his day job to make girls fall in love with him and you were a willing victim to his charm. Weirdly enough, you wouldn't have it in any other way.

You only have seven more days with Heeseung before you go back home and only go to the studio to film the confessionals. You're not even sure if you'll see him there but you want to. You don't want this to end.

You still want someone to reach for when the movie gets too sad. You still want someone to hold your hand when you're tired. You still want someone to care for you whenever you don't feel like eating or when you're sick—but the thing is, you've had all of these before Heeseung.

Heeseung has done a great job making it comfortable for both of you and you especially by providing everything that you're used to when you're in your dorms. He mimicked everything he could just to make sure that you were comfortable with him. But now that the end is near, you suppose you were too comfortable.

So now you're texting Yunjin, while holding back tears as you send her the demo version of your song after a long dreadful writer's block.

—

“Are you ready to meet them?” You asked Heeseung as he entered the car after you.

“Can you guys stop being cute, it’s gross,” Beomgyu rolled his eyes before crawling inside the car and squeezing himself between the both of you. “You have to ask the hand of her older brother first, Heeseung. Have you got no manners?”

“You are so annoying,” Heeseung rolled his eyes at him, holding back a laugh at how unserious his best friend was.

“You married my other best friend, imagine how that feels for me!” Beomgyu argued. “And if you’re going to argue about how this shouldn’t be that big of a deal for me, I’m here to tell you that it is. Because it’s gross to see the both of you together and we’ve been friends for long enough to guarantee my invitation to her wedding and I was not even informed that it’s going to be with you!”

“Calm down, oh my god!” You slapped his shoulder to hold him back from nagging Heeseung any more.

Your actions might not seem like it but you were grateful the production staff agreed that it was a great idea to bring Beomgyu along since, essentially, this whole man-child has treated you like family and your family did the same to him. And if they really wanted to sell the ‘meeting the family’ fantasy that they’ve been conceptualizing as your marriage soon reaches its conclusion, they must go all the way. Alas, Beomgyu is here. Lodged in between you and Heeseung because apparently, it’s gross to see your two best friends get married for a tv show.

“You are an entire challenge to get through,” Heeseung murmured as he poked on Beomgyu’s side to annoy him even more.

“Imagine the interrogation I can put you through if you keep acting up, Heeseung!” Beomgyu threatened him, eyes widening as he jokingly peered over Heeseung. “I am the favorite friend and there’s no topping that. I can put you through hours of interrogation with just one bad mouth.”

“I swear to everything good, if the both of you don’t shut up the entire ride I’m throwing you off this car.”

The both of them seemed to get the message when they looked back at you before quietly tugging on the seat belt to fit them before the car started. The car ride was relatively quiet, aside from the occasional banter that you had no problems whatsoever breaking up immediately before it got too serious, it was peaceful. Even the driver insisted on putting on some music just so it wouldn’t be too quiet whenever the two had to shut up for the sake of your sanity.

You can't help but put out a huge sigh when you reach your grandparents home. You had explained to your grandmother last night the arrangements with Heeseung and that it was only for the tv show and you wouldn't have married someone you don't know beforehand. Contrary to what you formerly believed, your grandmother had a good laugh last night about the concept of the show and found it funny to keep it a secret from your grandfather for the meantime and surprise him about your marriage when you arrive.

“Y/N!” Your grandfather happily waddles to your car as soon as you step out of the vehicle, your grandmother slowly following him. The old man happily pulls you into a hug doing a little dance as he turns you around before he notices Beomgyu and does the same with him. “Beomgyu!”

“Who is this fine gentleman, Y/N!” Your grandmother smirked as soon as he noticed Heeseung smiling at the both of them shyly. It was so weird seeing him look so shy. He looked like he was screaming for help and he had to wipe his palms that began sweaty profusely the moment he heard your grandfather's voice.

“Good morning, Sir Y/G/N and Ma’am Y/GM/N, I am Lee Heeseung from Enhypen. I come from the same company as your granddaughter and we're filming a show today which…” Oh dear heavens. Heeseung had it all practiced before he even got in the car. He practiced it in the mirror this morning, even practiced his speech with you before leaving the apartment but now he couldn't remember anything. Not a single thing on how he can properly break it to your grandfather that you got married for a variety show.

“Grandpa, Heeseung is my husband—”

“Excuse me?” Your grandfather looked like he was about to have a heart attack with the sudden news. “Does your mother know? Did any of your parents know? How could your company let you do this? Y/N! You're only 21!”

Your grandmother was taking it all in her to hold back from bursting out in laughter, holding on to Beomgyu as he does the same. Heeseung on the other hand, didn't look any better than your grandfather. He looked like he was going to pass out in fear with how your grandfather is reacting to all of this right now.

“Eomma knew it,” you joked. “Jen told her.”

“Yunjin told your mother? You couldn't even tell your mother yourself?”

“It's for the tv show only, grandpa,” Beomgyu bursted out in laughter as soon as your grandma signalled him to tell him already. She knew you were going to play it for as long as you could because the mischievous child that you are.

“It's not real? You did not sign anything?”

“Just the contract for the show and an NDA that I'm not going to talk about until it's aired,” you laughed at him as the old dog let out a sigh of relief.

“Why do you always do this to me?” he huffed as you looked back at your grandma, who planned it all. “Of course it was your idea!”

“Well, Mr. Heeseung,” he smiled at the younger. “I am glad that you wanted to meet us even if this marriage is not for real.”

“I am actually from Uiwang-si too,” Heeseung replies politely before he finally comes out of the car to bow down to your grandparents. “I am very honored to get to meet you, sir.”

You all gasped in surprise when Heeseung, in his light brown pants, went down on the grass to kneel and bow to your grandparents. “Thank you for bringing Y/N mother into this world, without her the world would’ve never seen how talented of a person she is.”

“Please get up there, son,” your grandfather laughed, helping him get up and dust the specks of dirt on his clothes. “Come inside.”

You laughed as you approached Heeseung, Beomgyu managing to distract your grandparents with his excitement for your grandmother’s food.

“Your hands are very sweaty,” you laughed at him, as you grabbed his hand to walk him in your grandparents’ home. “Were you that nervous?”

“I think I lost my heartbeat for a good 30 seconds when you broke it out like that,” he whined. “Good graces, I thought he was going to kill me!”

“He’s a cool grandpa,” you laughed. “Even if we did get married for real, he still would’ve accepted you. He has no room for resentment.”

“Heeseung, come here! We have Y/N middle school pictures, come look!” Beomgyu laughed from the door, holding up an old photo album that you recognize to be yours and your little brother’s that your grandmother made from the pictures that your mom sent them when you were back in New York.

“Those are horrendous, put it back, idiot!” You yelled at him, dragging Heeseung inside before you ran towards Beomgyu to take the photobook away. “You are an insufferable little bitch, Beomgyu, oh my God, put it back!”

Heeseung took a look at the place while you and Beomgyu quarrel over the photobook.

“Come here, Heeseung,” your grandfather called him over the piano on the corner of the living room. It was no secret that your family did have a wealthy background. After all, after a little more research under his belt, your family did own a successful business in the engineering field both in the country and in the US. It was sort of surprising to find that out, considering your modest way of living in the apartment with him. “Loosen up, kid. I’m not going to bite you.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled nervously still. “It’s the first time I’m meeting someone’s family.”

“You’ve met your members’ families, I’m sure,” your grandfather quips. “What’s the difference now? Y/N is your colleague just as much as they are.”

Heeseung thought of it well and hard even though it came out hard with you and Beomgyu still running around the house fighting over the photobook. His eye caught a picture of you dancing in a ballet tutu with a tambourine in one hand.

“That’s La Esmeralda,” your grandfather tells him when he notices the younger one staring at it. “She’s been dancing that variation since before she could wear pointe shoes. On her first birthday, her grandma put those ballet slippers in front of her at the last minute because Y/N’s mother used to dance ballet too. It used to be her whole life. She did nothing but dance but then decided that she was done and went straight into managing the family business. Y/N eyed those slippers before she was allowed to even pick and the moment she’s allowed, she grabbed onto it so fast and refused to give back that singular slipper.”

“She’s never looked back since. She would sleep in those ballet slippers as a baby. She was obsessed with it. Then one day this recruitment woman came to her after her dance recital and then it clicked something in her the same way engineering switched inside of her mother. In a blink of an eye, our Y/N didn’t want to be a ballerina anymore. She wanted to sing and you would think that four fruitless years of training would bring her back—but that kid never knows when to give up. The moment she decides something—call it a done deal, she will find a way to have that no matter what. When she loves, she loves it wholly and with everything that she has, even if it takes a lot of time to get there.”

Heeseung couldn’t admire the determination that you had as she looked at the years of ballet pictures that you had since you were in diapers. Some were even photos of you dancing with your mother. You really were a woman of your words… which… well… if weeks ago he wasn’t sure if he was in love with you… now he’s sure of it.

“Now, I don’t know your intentions with my granddaughter,” your grandfather continues, reaching for Heeseung’s shoulder as he pats it. “But whatever you do, I hope you don’t break something in her that will lose that determination, especially her ability to give as much love as she can. Because I don’t know who my granddaughter would still be if she loses that.”

Heeseung had no intention of hurting you. If he has to stay away from you just to make sure that it doesn’t reach the point of breaking you in that case, then he will even if it would feel like burning him alive. He’s never met anyone quite like you before—someone so open but so mysterious at the same time. It’s like he knew everything about you because you had no problem sharing it but still, there’s always more to you than what you’d tell.

“Yeobo, Heeseung, food is ready!” Your grandmother calls, making the both of you turn towards the entrance to the kitchen.

You and Beomgyu were busy placing the food and the plates on the table. You were like a kid again, arguing with your brother and then making up the next moment to get ready for food. You looked so relaxed and carefree around here than when you were in Seoul.

Heeseung was convinced he’s never seen you eat this much before. He just knows you’ll complain about how you’ll need to go to the gym first before going home just to burn everything you consumed today or your trainer would be a bitchy bunch when she notices your sudden weight gain. He hated that it’s the way that it is, but after a few arguments about her over worrying about it, he’s finally come into the acceptance that it’s the price they all pay for their dreams and no matter how fucked up that is—while someone has to go and change that ideal—it’s how it is right now.

It’s like watching you be another version of yourself that’s still you. Because everything you are is still the same, but more alive… and if he hasn’t admitted to himself, yet. Holy shit, he is in love and his heart skips eight beats every time you look at him with your pretty eyes that look like you’re convincing him to treat you like a baby every time you do. And for the longest time, he thought love looked like something else… he’s not quite sure what they’re supposed to look like but he definitely did not expect love to look… exactly like you.

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” Beomgyu shrugs as he tosses Heeseung the can of beer as they sit on the rooftop of the apartment building that they sent you and Heeseung in.

“What the fuck are you talking about,” Heeseung shrugged.

“Everyone can see it, idiot,” Beomgyu laughed, hitting the back of his head. “Everyone knows you guys actually fell in love but none of you care enough to admit it.”

“Like it’s even possible to admit that,” Heeseung chuckled bitterly, opening the can before chugging down on the alcohol. “Can you imagine the amount of protest trucks they’re going to send in front of the building if they find out? They’re going to block the streets. Worse case scenario they’re going to send Y/N death threats. I don’t think I have the stomach to instigate that.”

“So you care about her?” Beomgyu pressed.

“You care about Y/N and I don’t question you like this!”

“Because when the topic of protest trucks being sent to the building came when she debuted and everyone was planning on the PR to make sure that our image does not get perceived as a threat to the fans, Y/N and I just laughed it out and called bullshit,” Beomgyu explained. “Even the idea of getting death threats did not faze her. We never cared if people called our friendship something else. But you seem to care more than that, so it’s different.”

Heeseung fell silent. What’s the point of hiding it from Beomgyu anyway? He’s known him and you since before you and Y/N even met. If there’s anyone that will sense it, it’s going to be him.

“I’ve signed more NDAs than brand deals, to be honest,” Beomgyu continued. “I don’t mind signing another if it means you guys are going to stop acting like fools about this. Even the Le Sserafim girls are literally okay with it. It’s possible. You just have to want it.”

“Do you know how far fetched it is to say that I actually had the chance to actually fall in love with Y/N?” Heeseung started. “I literally liked her since the day I laid eyes on her to the point that I used to get so jealous that you get to have that relationship with her and I don’t.”

“It sounds stupid, really,” Beomgyu laughed before taking a sip of his beer.

“It doesn’t even feel real that I said okay to this fucking show without knowing that she’ll be my wife for 30 days! Are you getting this? It’s like the universe just gave me a chance and I don’t even know how to go about it now! I’m not even sure if she feels the same way!”

“Oh trust me, she does.”

“God. It’s like the world is asking me to give up on everything I ever worked so hard for to be able to actually experience being in love!” He cried. “And it fucking knows that I will but I don’t want to hurt her like that.”

“That sounds to me like you’re the only one here that’s afraid of the hate,” Beomgyu shrugged. “Because knowing Y/N, she would walk in front of those protest trucks and would possibly take a selfie with it if she’s feeling like it. She knows her worth so much that she’d bring coffee for the protesters because it’s hot outside.”

“That woman has loose screws in her head, she turns absolutely unhinged once she’s put her mind into something,” He continued. “I know it’s weird that a girl with eating schedule problems can be that tough, but she is.”

Heeseung lets out a big sigh as he watches Beomgyu stand in front of him.

“So now, I should ask you,” he trails off. “Are you willing to love my best friend with everything that you have inside you and nothing less? Because if no, you should really just stop being so damn unnecessarily romantic with her when the cameras are not on. That woman is going to love you wholly and nothing else if she decides that she does, and you have to make it clear if you’re going to meet her halfway or not because you’re not going to like what you’re going to hear from me and Yunjin if you lead her on, Heeseung.”

“Why does that sound like a threat?” Heeseung asked to diffuse the tension but Beomgyu, so serious all of sudden, did not back down.

“Because it is a threat, Hee,” he quips before going back to his seat. “You have 5 more days to tell her how you feel before the show ends. When you’re clear on where the both of you stand, tell us. And we’ll take whatever steps we must take.”

—

“Jagiya?” Heeseung called as he stumbled inside of the apartment. “Jagiya?”

You turn to look at Heeseung’s miserable state, leaning against the wall next to the door, shocked that he even managed to get this wasted after he fully refused to drink with you and Beomgyu when you were in your grandparents’ house.

“I thought you only had beer when you went up?” You asked as you scurried over him, immediately helping the poor boy get back up on his feet and into the dining room chair. “Where’s Beomgyu?”

“Manager… picked him up…” He drawled as he rested his head on his hands while his elbows were on the table, smiling stupidly at you as he watched you scramble in the kitchen to get him anything that might help his state.

“What else did you drink?” You asked as you slid a glass of water in front of him, urging him to drink.

“Beomgyu… that sneaky little bitch… brought… um… that green—”

“Soju?”

“Yes! You’re so smart!” He laughed, clapping his hands happily. You couldn’t help but laugh at his stupid state. How can he even drink this much without thinking of the consequences after?

“Well, finish this already,” you told him, picking up the glass of water to help him drink.

And just after he’s steady enough to stand up with your help, he bolts to the bathroom and hurls.

“I’m pretty sure, you’re not going to be drinking a lot more often after this, no?” you asked him as you helped him sit up against the tile wall after he was done. “Come on, let’s clean you up.”

You got up and found a wash cloth that you drenched in warm water from the tap before ringing it. You managed to clean most of his limbs up, but there was some vomit on his shirt that you had to clean up before you let him sleep because that would be awfully disgusting.

“Can you clean yourself?” you asked, trying to see if he was functional enough to at least change his clothes.

“I actually like having my wife take care of me like this,” he giggled giddily. “So nice and so caring.”

You shrugged at his drunken state before getting up.

“Noooo…” He whined, grabbing onto your ankle to keep you from going. “Don’t leave me!”

“I’m just going to get you a new shirt, Heeseung,” you laughed at him, bending down to take his hand off your ankle. “Wait here.”

You went up to his room to retrieve a shirt when you found his phone ringing. A number you recognized to be your grandfather’s. You didn’t want to invade his privacy so instead you took it and allowed it to ring until you were back in the bathroom where Heeseung sat with his long legs straight in front of him, lazily leaning against the tile wall.

“Who is it?”

“Grandpa,” you replied nervously. “Why is he calling you at this time of the day? Shouldn’t he be asleep?”

“I don’t know!” he claims before you answer the phone and put it on a loudspeaker.

“Heeseung, son?”

“Yes, Grandpa?” he answered politely, trying his best to sound normal.

“I just realized that I forgot to tell you that I think you are good for Y/N,” your grandpa exhaled. “And wherever your relationship goes after your tv show, I hope you guys stay good friends. You are good for Y/N. And I can also tell that you like her because no one gets that nervous when meeting your friend’s grandparents. I hope you stop denying that.”

“Umm…” Heeseung trailed off, not knowing what to say. He looked up at you to ask for help but you seemed to be in a panic too.

“Just say thank you!” you mouthed at him in a panic, not wanting to reveal that you have been hearing the conversation all along.

“Thank you, grandpa,” he says, following exactly what you told him to.

“Well, it’s getting late. I should rest. Please tell Y/N I said good night and good night to you too, Heeseung. Please take care of my granddaughter.”

“Good night, grandpa,” he said before the call was dropped. “Oh my god, I think that just sobered me up!” he laughed slightly before wincing, making him lean back down on the tile wall to support his head.

“No, it didn’t,” you shrugged at him before kneeling next to him. “Can you take your shirt off, so you can change?”

He carefully tugs on his shirt to pull it off before handing it to you. In exchange, you gave him the fresh shirt that you got from his room. It was surprising that he didn’t fuss about it so you decided to take advantage of his compliant state and went over to the kitchen to grab a chair and put it next to his sink. You weren’t sure if he had anything on his agenda tomorrow, but are you really going to let him out tomorrow looking like a dehydrated piece of vegetable after all he drank with your best friend? Maybe you cared enough about Heeseung to not let him do that to himself.

“What’s that for?”

“Get up, I’m not letting you skip your skincare,” you replied in a duh tone while you helped him get up from the floor to his seat on the chair. “Sit properly.”

“You are crazy,” he laughed, as he patiently does what you tell him.

“You like me though,” you replied condescendingly.

He chuckled before responding, “I actually do.”

“Tell me that again when you’re sober, alright?” you tell him before squirting some of his cleanser on your hands and lathering it on his face.

“Come here,” he chuckled smugly as he gently placed both his hands on either of your sides to pull you closer to him, making you sit on his lap. “You heard it from your grandpa, jagiya.”

“But you’re only admitting it now that you’re off your face,” you replied to him patiently, as you kept on rubbing the cleanser over his face. “If you really mean it, you won’t have a problem saying it again when you’re not intoxicated.”

You continued doing his skincare sitting on his lap in silence.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m only doing this because I’m drunk because I am willing to tell you the same thing over and over again tomorrow when I’m not in this state.” He tells you. “Saying that I like you is an understatement because doing this show with you really just intensified what I already had for you years ago. I can’t explain to anyone enough how I almost passed out when I found out that it was going to be you to do this show with me.”

“You can ask Jay and everyone else. Because they knew—well, they sensed it because I couldn’t get myself to admit it for the longest time. But right now? I don’t think that I can let you go anymore now that I’ve got to experience all these with you.” Heeseung added.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighed, bringing a hand over to your face to wipe the tears that you didn’t know had already escaped your eye. “I’m so in love with you and it sucks that they put people in situations like this to fall in love and separate them after—but I’m going to work hard to turn this to our favor once it’s over, okay?”

“Please keep your word, Hee,” you mumbled quietly. “I need you to keep your word because I don’t mind doing the same.”

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You were up bright and early the next morning to get Heeseung a hangover drink and some soup because it wouldn’t be logical to buy any more stocks when you’ll be moving out less than 5 days from now. The camera crew will be there in a few hours so you really had to wake Heeseung up as soon as you get home or he’ll run late for filming if he doesn’t

“You didn’t have to do this, Y/N.” He mumbled as soon as he was down on the table enjoying his soup.

You don’t know why it did, but it stung to hear him call you by your name after confessing last night and getting you used to being called jagiya. You shouldn’t have let yourself fall for it, he was off his face after all. Why did you even consider believing it in the first place?

“I had to,” you mumbled quietly. “You looked helpless last night. It’s actually surprising you still woke up this early.”

“Y/N?”

“What?” You lamented. Hearing it the first time was stung, for the second time? You wanted to cry in humiliation for assuming that he meant what he said. God it felt like the same way Minji broke it to you that she was moving to Ador after promising you that she’ll always stick around—and you couldn’t blame her. You couldn’t blame anyone because at the end of the day you both had dreams and you can’t demand anyone to stay for your comfort. Not in that competitive environment.

“Why are you so quiet?” he asked. “I’m sorry for the bother last night.”

“I wish you weren’t sorry about it though,” you replied honestly. “That makes me feel like everything you said was a mistake.”

“Oh!” He almost spins after you jog his memory. “Jagiya, I meant everything I said!”

“Then why are you calling me by my name all of a sudden? God, if this is a joke to you, Heeseung, I might as well walk away right now, because I can’t let you do that to me,” you rambled.

“Okay, let’s calm down first,” Heeseung sighs heavily.

“Don’t sigh like that!” you snapped at him, making him break into a soft chuckle.

“I was waiting until you’re done with your coffee before I tell you,” he laughed softly, before walking over to your side of the table. “You’re a little snappy before your coffee. So I was waiting for you to finish that first and then I will tell you how you are the most beautiful person in the world and I am so in love with you, I’ll fight Bang PD-nim even for a slight chance to hold your hand on camera after this show is over.”

You couldn’t help but cry even more after you realized that you have overreacted over the situation.

“I hate you,” you sobbed as Heeseung tried to contain his laughter out of awe as he wrapped his arms around you.

“And I am so in love with you for it,” he continued laughing.

–

“What’s on the agenda today?” you asked the production manager as they set up the cameras inside of your home.

“Well,” the production manager smiled at you, “We have a surprise for the both of you today.”

“Oh?” Heeseung quips, head peeking through the bathroom door while he was brushing his teeth.

“We have your members with us today,” they tell you before the door bursts open and your groups’ members enter the home one by one, crowding your living room faster than you’ve ever seen before.

“Hi!” You jumped happily, throwing yourself over to Yunjin when she entered the room, wrapping your legs around her as you happily squealed.

“Well, they’re reunited,” Jay laughed as the camera panned over to you and Yunjin, still screaming happily.

“What? What’s on the schedule today?”

“Well, you will have a virtual marriage ceremony in Everland,” they announced. “When you were in the cafe when you guys first met, we asked you to draw your dream fairytale wedding. We were quite impressed with the design that Y/N made that we started questioning if we could do it. But we managed! So, we're all going to the Hybe building today, get everyone ready and we'll be on our way for the big event.”

You couldn't contain your excitement as they handed you an iPad with a picture of a fully realized version of your dress sketch from that day that they asked you to. You didn't think too much of it back then and really just drew your fantasy, you didn't expect that they'd actually use that in real life.

–

Soon enough the parade was in full swing, people were starting to gather around as soon as they noticed who was sitting on the huge carousel float and the convertible cars behind. Your members were dressed as princesses too, Heeseung's were dressed as knights.

People were squealing as they watched you and Heeseung interact with the kids in the crowd. You were dancing and playing with the bubble machines they gave you early on.

To be frank, it made you feel like a kid again. You didn't get to experience a lot of it when you were a kid because you were always busy with dancing and even when you became an adult, you still barely had time to go. You couldn't believe that you were there on the carriage, being looked up to by the babies and kids that were probably there for the first time. You hoped that they were getting the fun that they were meant to experience being in a theme park.

“Y/N!” The crowd cheered your name as you turned to them and gave them a little dance.

Heeseung watched you fondly from the side. He couldn't help but notice how natural your presence were, especially around kids. You looked so happy, your smile was brighter than he's ever seen.

“Lee Heeseung! Is she beautiful?” A kid yelled from his direction, making you look over the kid and then to your partner. You thought he'd deflect it, anything he would say or do right now will be held against him by his begrudging fans. You would understand if he did.

But instead Heeseung crossed his arms at the kid and asked him back, “Have you seen a woman more beautiful than her?”

You couldn't stop yourself from blushing, even attempting to hide your face in one of the posts, making the crowd laugh at your cute reaction.

“Aigoo,” he cooed, walking over you and hugging you from behind, once again making the crowd roar as he laughed at how shy you were getting.

Just then, the float started moving again. By then you were too shy to even move from your position, leaving Heeseung with no choice but to take your hands off the post and use it to do a little cute dance infront of everyone.

You were laughing uncontrollably, you face was crimson through the make up on your face and you were sure your face would be all over the internet when you go home later but you couldn’t seem to be worried about that right now. All your mind was on trying to stabilize yourself in front of the people once again.

“Are you okay now?” he asked, fixing a stray hair that slipped out of your perfectly pinned hair. “You're not very red anymore.” He points it out, carefully dabbing a paper towel that the staff handed him moments ago on your forehead while chuckling lightly.

“You're saying it like it wasn't your fault,” you rolled your eyes at him playfully, softly hitting his shoulder.

“Come dance with me,” he grinned, reaching for both of your hands and interlocking them behind his neck before placing his on your waist. The both of you pranced around the lively music as the float moved to it's next spot.

Asking you to dance was Heeseung's way of concealing the fact that he was about to drop dead out of nervousness for what he's about to do. In the briefing a while ago, while they were getting ready to go to Everland, he was asked if he wanted to do something special, considering that the two of you only have less than a week before the filming of the show is over. After being egged on by his members to do a cute proposal, he agreed that it would be cute and would make the experience more special for you.

“You're having so much fun, no?” he asked, as he spun you around, your dress flowing around you. You can hear the faint coos of your members from the next car, even laughs from Heeseung's teammates.

“So much,” you replied as you attempted to do the same thing for him but the height difference made it much more difficult for him, bending his back more than he would usually do.

He laughed at himself before grabbing you by the waist and spinning you around.

Soon enough the float stops again and you notice everything starts to slow down a bit from what it used to. You looked around curiously, trying to figure out what was going on with the sudden change of tempo, but instead you find Heeseung down on one knee with a silver ring presented before you, before he proudly shouts out, just so everyone can hear it, “Y/L/N Y/N, will you marry me?”

The crowd roars all so suddenly after Heeseung says it, making you jump a bit from how loud it was. You could even hear Sunoo, Kazuha and Eunchae screaming a few feet away. You looked around, once again, and it was a fairytale. You don’t even know why no one has climbed up your float and grabbed you by the neck after seeing this unfold. The girls were out of the car now, they were happily jumping while Heeseung’s younger members cheered as loud as they could, even chanting some ship name you’ve only heard for the first time.

Looking back at Heeseung, his eyes never looked so clear and so happy before. His smile made his face so insanely handsome, you began questioning if it was possible to fall in love with the same face twice and feel just as gobsmacked with how beautiful he was made.

“Yes,” you laughed, awkwardly going down on your knees too. You don’t even know why you did but it felt right to just be there, on the same eye level with him. He laughed at your actions as he slipped the ring on your finger, next to your grandmother’s ring that you still kept to where he moved it.

“Kiss her!” a kid yelled from the crowd, following an uproar of requests to do so. Of course it was not going to happen, but Heeseung did manage to sneak a soft kiss on the side of your head as the both of you posed for the people taking photos.

You don’t even know how you’re going to recover from this. You were smiling and dancing all throughout the rest of the parade, but deep inside, you were hoping that Heeseung stays true to his word because there is no way that you were going to be able to live normally after this. There was no way that after filming this show, you would be able to show up in the same music shows acting like this man never made you question your capabilities for love.

You were in too deep, you don’t even know how you’ll manage to ever be the same after this. And it wasn’t like you. You were resilient. You knew how to withstand the adversities that came in your life.

But what if it’s not so much of an adversity? What if it was love? How were you ever going to endure that?

After all of you were worn down by excitement and thrill from hopping from one ride to another in the park, you were later informed to rest early after the group dinner, as you will be back in the studio to record your special performance song for the music show that will be aired once the variety show airs. The song would be yet to be decided but you were pretty sure it would be heavily discussed over dinner. So you just decided to go with what everyone thinks would sell the most.

You weren’t quite sure how to feel by then. You were tired and your thoughts plagued you over and over whenever you had your silent moments. You couldn’t believe it. In 4 more days, you will be separated from Heeseung.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung asked, as he reached for your hand. “You’re very quiet.”

“Just tired,” you replied shortly. “I’m okay.”

Heeseung didn’t buy your excuse, but he held onto your hand still, hoping that it would give you some sense of comfort to whatever might be bothering you. You had a long day and tomorrow and the following days would be as well considering that they are now asking you to record and perform a song for the last episode, which he hasn’t even experienced, but is already breaking him inside to think about.

He doesn’t even want to think about what song he would perform, in high hopes that he could avoid it that way despite knowing the inevitability of it. But what’s wrong with a little blind hope, no?

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You sat there inside of the studio as you watched Heeseung record his part of the song, Accidentally In Love.

It didn't feel real that you and Heeseung have to get this all done in a matter of 3 days. It only feels like yesterday when your girls were only convincing you to do this—now, you're four days away from parting ways. And you managed to fall in love with someone you barely knew for less than a month, and him likewise.

Do it for the plot they said.

No matter where this road may take you and Heeseung, things will never be the same for you. You can never tell how it will be for him—but for you? A piece of you will never recover from this. A piece of you will always remember the shape of his body next to you or the way his perfume smells or the way the palm of his hands molds perfectly into yours. Nothing can make you not remember those things now. And if it doesn't end well… then you guess the only comfort left is that you'll see him around. You can pretend that things are okay—and that it's all a performance because that's what you do, you perform.

It's one sick and twisted performance. But at least… you got to experience it, no?

“Jagiya, it's your turn!” Heeseung happily exits the booth and reaches for the notebook in front of you where you had taken notes from your vocal coach earlier.

He was actually surprised how detailed your notes were. At this age, he wouldn't think someone would still be this serious about taking coaching, especially since you've been a trainee and an idol for years now. Somehow, even though it wasn't a question before, it made sense that you were your company's golden child—you were dedicated to your craft and was always open to improving anything, and you always come through with the best results. Years ago, Heeseung thought it was not worth his dreams to pursue any girl. But you're Y/N. You are way out of his league. And you are in love with him. It would be blasphemous to not take the risk for his dream girl. He doesn't have it in him to waste that.

“You two are really comfortable,” your coach chuckled at the both of you. “Young love.”

You and Heeseung looked at each other, shocked at what your coach just said. The woman laughed payfully at your surprised faces, “It would take a person to be braindead to not notice how in love the both of you are. I can hear it, even if you don’t say it directly. I can see it, just by the mere look in your young faces. And the air got disgustingly sweet the moment you two stepped in this studio.”

You glanced at the camera, but the man behind shook his head to tell you that he wasn’t recording. You don’t wish to ruin your career, as much as you love Heeseung but you were going to take the risk and believe the cameraman that he wasn’t recording when you said it, “You think so?”

“My husband looked at me like that when we were younger,” she smiled, grabbing her phone from the soundboard and unlocking her phone to show you her screensaver. It was a photo of her and her husband, with their two sons. One was a little over three years old and the other looked like he was just a year old. “Now he’s taught our boys to look at me the same way. It pays to marry men who truly make you happy and would do anything to keep you that way.”

Heeseung wondered if he did that to you—if he made you happy. Because he wants to do that. He wants to be the person that you’ll think of wanting to come home to or at least for where they are right now, someone you’ll be excited to call after a busy day. He wants to be the person that you’ll want to reach for when things get heavy or if you want to celebrate even the tiniest things. He wants to be your person. He wants to be present for you.

“I must be lucky then,” you joked. Half-meant though.

“Only one of the very few who are,” she chuckled, reaching for your arm to give you a little squeeze. “If they tell you to enjoy your youth first, tell them it’s even more enjoyable to do it together. Don’t let them get to you, okay?”

–

“Tired?” Heeseung asked as soon as you rest your head on his shoulder only seconds after he’s settled next to you inside the car.

“Yeah,” you respond quietly, trying to get a few minutes of rest before you are home. “We had to polish the choreography for the comeback next week after our rehearsals. The steps were pretty fast and detailed.”

“I know you’ll do great next week.”

“We’re not going home to the same place, next week,” you mumbled sadly.

“I’ll watch you still,” he reassures, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. “I will always watch you and think you’re doing great.”

–

“The two of you are going to be allowed to start packing up your things tonight,” they told you as you tried to hold your breath to keep yourself from breaking down.

You were exhausted. After your performance in MBC’s music show, you had to follow through your original schedule with your group to rehearse for your comeback show which was draining with the amount of criticism you had to receive from how distracted you seemed the entire time.

Judging from how quiet Heeseung was being, you knew he had a long day too and you didn’t want to add up to it by telling him and allowing it to weigh him down even more.

“I need to talk to you, Y/N, before you go,” your manager called before you could stand up and gather your things from the green room.

You nodded and followed her outside to the other makeup room so that you may be able to speak in private.

“Are you and Lee Heeseung together?” she asked sternly as soon as you shut the door after you.

You looked at her in shock, wondering if you were too obvious about it or if she could read your mind.

“What do you mean?”

“I need you to not play dumb with me, Y/N.” She tells you, the atmosphere getting thicker around the both of you, making your heart pound against your chest.

“I don’t know…”

The older woman seemed to notice the fear in your energy, making her regret the harsh tone she used on you almost immediately. The woman softened as soon as she noticed your eyes glossing as you looked at her.

“Y/N,” she sighed. “I need to know it if you want me to help you.”

You let out a deep breath that you didn’t notice you were holding. Along with it, came with the rest of your tears as you slid down on the floor, crying.

You don’t even know why you started to cry. Was it a relief? Was it because you knew this was going to bring trouble to your group? What is because you could put Heeseung’s career in jeopardy? God, a few days ago you were so sure that you were going to power through this with Heeseung? Yesterday, you were so sure that you could do this—but now? You don’t know where it all went. You don’t know how to feel.

It was the first time you felt as such. It was the first time that you had to admit that you were not sure how to go about something that you wanted so badly because this time, it wasn’t just you. It’s Heeseung’s career and his life that’s on the line too. And you don’t know if you can do that to him.

“Y/N,” your manager called softly, helping you up and ushering you to sit on one of the chairs. “Are you and Heeseung together? I’m not going to be mad at you or him. I just need to know. I want you to be happy.”

“I don’t know what we are,” you confessed. “We’ve only established liking each other, but other than that, I don’t even know where we stand.”

“Thank you for telling me, darling,” she tells you while squeezing your hand to calm you down. “After this, I’m going to sit you and the girls down on how to go about this behind the media, okay?”

She helped you look less miserable when you went out by giving you your baseball cap and a facemask before exiting the building to get to your ride home.

“Please eat dinner and pack your things, okay?” she reminds you one last time before closing the door after you.

—

“Hee,” you called Heeseung as soon as you saw him exit the bathroom, freshly showered.

“Yes?”

“Watch this with me,” you tell him, reaching for him to pull him faster next to the empty seat next to you.

“What movie is it?”

“Serendipity,” you replied. “It’s my parents’ favorite movie.”

“Serendipity,” He sounded it out like a kid learning a new word for the first time. “What does it mean?”

“It’s destiny’s big fat joke to humankind,” you replied. “It’s when it gives you something really good you refuse to believe it’s real or you deserve it. But no matter how far the chances will take you, it will always find you.”

“I hope that’s what we’re experiencing right now,” he tells you before scooching closer to where you sat.

“What if it’s not?”

“It wouldn’t change anything.” He smiles softly at you, face inching closer to yours. “Having to experience being this close to you, someone that I liked for years now—it’s something I would never get tired of bragging about to my members. And if it is and life goes well for the both of us, I’ll tell the story of the luckiest man alive whose chance presented itself in front of him to be in love with the most beautiful woman in the world. I’ll tell it as a bedtime story to our kids.”

“I don’t want this to end, Hee,” you hummed quietly. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not losing me,” he smiles at you as he rests his forehead against yours. “Or I’m going to lose my mind.”

Tears began falling from your eyes again before you could even stop yourself. You’ve already cried so many times today, you don’t even know where it’s coming from at this point. You thought by now, you’ve already cried every tear you had in your system but it doesn’t stop coming.

This time, Heesueng couldn’t help but feel his heart clench at the sight of you being so anxious and broken over the thought of the both of them having to separate. He’s been having a hard time trying to brush it off because he didn’t want to show you how much it affected him out of fear that it would bear more weight on you. Jungwon has been trying to listen to him these past few nights, trying to comfort him that everything will eventually fall into place—Yeonjun and Yunjin made it work. He believes that you and him could work just as well.

“What can I do to help you, jagiya?” he asked, running his knuckle softly across your face to wipe down the tears that stained your cheeks already.

“Kiss me.”

You don’t know why you said it. You don’t even know what made you say it, but it felt right to ask him that. Somehow, you felt like being that close to him would make you feel comfortable.

And Heeseung did not hesitate. The kiss was hot and heavy… and wet and sloppy. Your stomach began to tingle a bit, then even with the both of you sitting down, your knees felt like wobbling jelly. His open mouth, moving against yours made you weak. You were melting at the hot touch of the palm of his hands snaking its way from your cheek to the back of your head to pull you closer to him as if it was still humanly possible. It’s like you were floating and you don’t know when you started to feel weightless because moments ago, you felt like the weight of the world was weighing down on you. So weightless, you didn’t even notice Heeseung moved you to sit on his lap already.

“I’m so in love with you, jagiya,” he says, as soon as you pull away to breathe. “I’m so in love with you I can’t even explain how it feels to hold back.”

“Then don’t hold back,” you replied, pushing his chin up with your index finger to make him look up at you. “I don’t want you to hold back, Hee. Even just for tonight.”

“Jagiya,” he breathes heavily, physically restraining himself from bringing it any further but also failing as he chases your lips every time he feels like you are moving away. “You know it’s not that easy.”

“Please,” You pleaded, hands moving to reach for his hand before guiding it under your shirt and over the soft mound on your chest. He looked surprised at first that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. God, he couldn’t help but feel himself get hard underneath you—he was almost embarrassed but you seemed to not mind, pressing yourself harder on him.

“Are you sure you want this, jagi?” he asks one more time.

You nod.

“I need to hear you say it, jagi,” he tells you, his free hand moving to your face to move the stray hair on your face. “Say it to me, please?”

“Ruin me,” you tell him firmly, as you rest your forehead against him. “For everyone. I want you to make sure I’ll never be able to love anyone else but you.”

Something snapped inside of Heeseung. He cannot believe he’s hearing all these right now but he’s not complaining. He doesn’t have it in him—he’s just a man. Someone craving for closeness with someone he never thought he’d even come close with.

He doesn’t know if it’s the right thing to do right now, but it didn’t bother him one bit. You could be gone tomorrow and he’ll never get the chance to be this close to anyone. You could be just a mere memory to him before he notices it—would it be so bad to keep you this sweet in his memory?

“I love you, Y/N.” He says before pressing a passionate kiss on yours once again.

For once, you let yourself go. You let the feeling consume you—the lust and love. You let it hug you like it never has before.

And if this is destiny’s sense of humor playing its trick on you. The joke is on them. Because you were not known to give up. You never wanted someone as much as you wanted Heeseung and you were going to have him—even if it meant looking at sasaengs dead in the eye while they wished for your untimely death.

—

a/n:

I got carried away???? Omg???? It literally started when I saw a tiktok abt We Got Married when Joy and Sungjae were there and watched it and got inspired and the next thing I knew I was pushing to 40 pages into my google docs file 😃 Anyway!!! I have been very absent recently… due to a lot of causes (lol i got into another situationship and it didn’t end well again and i took it to heart even if it was my fault—also i’m in my last year of college I'm literally 😃😃 even finding time to rest is hard)

Anyway~ I hope you guys liked this one!!! Tell what you think here and if you want me to make blurbs from this fic in the future.

Thank you for making it this far in the story hehe

xo, anya ୨୧

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