#forgot i didn't post the last of this series!

[giuseppe-yuki]

I feel like half the drivers accidentally found out their partners were shapeshifters when they were told and the other half found out on accident. Pierre found out on accident and almost ended up passing out seeing the snake on the couch watching TV

George was just very confused about having a deer in his apartment with its head in the fridge

Alex is convinced he’s either sleep deprived or he’s been drugged when he sees a cockatiel folding shirts

Yuki sees you in bunny form when he comes back to the hotel after a night race and you’re just napping on your pillow, he shoots you a text to tell you there’s a rabbit in your spot

Charles thinks you’re joking for the first few weeks after you tell him and lightly teases you until you get tired of it and turn into a hedgehog to bite his fingers mid breakfast

Oscar assumes you’re just tired and delirious when you tell him and he won’t take it seriously until you’ve slept and turn into a duck to hop in the bath with him

Logan just kind of shrugs and thinks “this might as well happen” and gives you a kiss before going off to work

Fernando and Lewis, being old, have both met a single shapeshifter before so when their partners tell them they are completely on board and excited to take you to races in animal form

hey anon, i actually posted a little blurb about this awhile ago for kimi, charles, lewis, alex, max, n lando here!

i really like your takes though :)

i feel it's totally canon for pierre to actually be deathly scared of snakes (like his bestie charles) pre-reveal. his gf knows this, obviously, so she held back on letting him know until she totally forgot one day and decided to chill in her snake form on the couch. cue pierre shuffling into the living room, looking for cuddles and seeing an actual snake on the couch watching, like, the office. he starts screaming and almost faints, almost hitting his head on the glass coffee table. his girlfriend realizes last minute and shifts back to her human to try and diffuse the situation, but only effectively almost causes poor pierre to pass out from shock again 😭 afterwards, though, he gets over his fear and reads up on snakes, therefore becoming- dare i say, a snake expert.

in my shapeshifting!series, george's gf is a successful conservation biologist working at a national park. i feel like george would probably think that the deer is somehow part of his gf's job somehow. he'd be confused but still accepting that the deer was currently going through the bag of apples in the fridge that his girlfriend bought awhile ago at an abnormal rate. later, at dinner or something, he'd prob bring it up out of nowhere, and make sure his gf knows that if she finds the bag of apples empty it was not him- it was the deer that she like, "brought from her work or something." his gf would prob be jokingly mad, like, " oh georgie, you didn't you stop the deer from stealing my apples then >:(" but ultimately reveal her ability.

if alex found a cockatiel in his living quarters i always feel like he'd resort to violence first, as seen in the blurb i wrote before. he'd like freeze up, seeing the bird fluttering around, flying a clothing hanger with his gf's favorite dior top towards the open closet. the cockatiel neatly hangs it on the clothing rod and dives back towards the laundry basket for burberry button up before alex starts swatting at it to "leave his gf's clothes alone." he likely starts shouting for his gf to get in the room, quick, or else "the stupid ass bird that probably flew in from the window is going to ruin your nice clothes". although his gf appreciates the sentiment, she also gets pissed at him for swatting at her and calling her a stupid ass bird after revealing her shapeshifting!abilities ;-;

ha! after, like, las vegas or something, yuki will stumble into the hotel room to find a bunny in loaf form on his gf's pillow. he def takes a pic of the bunny and sends it to his gf, thinking she's out on the strip with the other wags, like, "hi baby i'm back at the hotel :) btw there's a bunny on your pillow it's kinda cute lol [image]" he scoots the bunny over very lightly as to not wake it up but leaves enough space so his gf would be able to sleep when she comes back. it's not until he eats dinner, showers, and watches half of his fav jason statham movie before he realizes it's a little suspicious his gf is nowhere to be seen. he sends her another text, "baby wya it's like 3am 😥" before his *still* sleepy gf walks into the tv area, rubbing her eyes, calling him to come to bed w her. she ignores his confused stuttering and cuts him off w, "wdym yuki i was literally sleeping on the bed the whole time ?" he only connects the dots the next morning in the middle of breakfast in bed, much to the amusement of his gf.

charles is literally so unserious about the whole thing when his gf mentions it at first. a hedgehog? ha right, ur literally so funny ma chérie. he sees a random person wearing sonic merch and immediately asks his gf if that's her. arthur is bothering him? he asks his gf if he's allowed to throw her in her hedgehog form at him so his brother gets impaled by her spikes. she's usually super chill and swears not to cause any harm to anyone but she def makes an exception when it gets too much. charles, with his half buttered croissant halfway to his mouth and teasing grin pasted on his face, is thoroughly unprepared when she launches at him and bites him real hard. he shrieks and jumps out of his chair, but is only met with an eye roll and a snort as his gf makes her way back to her side of the table.

i can't get it out of my head that oscar treats his gf like that meme where the woman is helping her grandma who is in a walker and is like sure, grandma, let's get you to bed. when his gf grasps him by the shoulders, look at him v seriously in the eyes, and says, "i can turn into a duck" at approx 2am, he doesn't believe her at all, and tucks her into bed. throughout the week, he sees clues that hints that she might be telling the truth that he's never noticed before... feathers everywhere, like, 20 bags of frozen peas in the freezer, the constant unfinished ice waters left on the counter. exactly a week later, he had just drawn himself up a bath and dunked his body into the warm water when he hears the door open and his gf siddle in with a smile on her face, already sliding her robe off. he automatically assumes "ooh freaky time perhaps 😈" but then she turns into a duck. his only response is a "wot ? 🤔 🤨"

hooray for nonchalant immediately supportive logan! he completely ignores the fact that his gf just shifted into an entire hawk in the middle of his living room and was standing quite patriotically with her ruffled feathers. instead of freaking out like his gf thought he would, he shrugs and pecks a kiss on her feathery head before saluting her a "goodbye babe, i'm off to work :D ! call me if you need anything :) " (logan's gf texts alex's gf about it and they end up having a good laugh at the unexpected reactions of their bf's - one was so unbothered and the other went to defensive mode)

ofc, ofc! nando and lew are v wise already regarding shapeshifters. they don't hesitate in giving their gfs any accommodations at all for their respective forms (nando with a cocker spaniel and lewis with a samyoed) within seconds, nando will have specialty arrangements ordered for his gf in the am garage while lewis is banging out an email to toto regarding adjustment made to the merc hospitalities for easier "access" (immediately approved due to the fact toto his own wolf shapeshifter!gf)

[sunnyie-eve]

49 | Type

Series: Unexpected

Paring: (Matt Sturniolo x OFC Brock!) (Chris Sturniolo x OFC Brock!)

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Matt jelly

| MASTERLIST |

Today Dani was having a guest on her channel that wasn't any of the boys. Honestly, Matt didn't like who her guest was because he knew how some of her fans were. They shipped her with almost every dude she talked to and knew.

"Did it have to be him?" Matt watches Dani play on her phone as they hung out in her room.

"Do you prefer your brother? You know, the one that everyone at the moment says we would've been a cute couple?" She looks up from her phone to look at him.

"That's stupid because you told him he missed his chance." Matt rolls onto his back, "So they need to stop staying they want it to happen." He adds then says in a mocking tone while making a face, "They would be such a good match for each other. Why can't she just agree to be his?"

"If they only knew I was yours." Dani leans over smiling before giving him a kiss.

"That's the only damn reason I want people to know." He sits up, "You're mine. Not his or anyone else." Dani giggles as he pulls her closer so he can hold her, "If guys wanted to they could try making a move on you because to them you're single."

"They could try but my answer would always be the same. No." She grabs his face to kiss him, "Now, stop pouting about me filming with Carrington." She moves away from him.

When he arrives they get into her car parked in front of the house, "Hi." Dani starts her car video, "I'm sure y'all know Carrington." She adds, "He's my first guest that's not my roommates or brother." She says as he smiles.

"I'm very honored."

"And this is only happening because Jake and Tara talked us into this. This is our first time hanging out alone." She laughs.

"That's why I'm nervous. It's new and I'm never like this." He laughs now, "But it's exciting."

Dani agrees nodding her head going for her phone but she didn't have it with her, "Oh, I forgot something inside." She motions towards the house.

"It's okay." He lets her know.

"I'll be quick." She opens the car door.

"Again, it's okay." He chuckles as she rushes inside. "Yeah, so we're doing this because our friends wanted us to." He starts to talk to the camera by himself, "We said okay. Okay guys. But today... We're here to gossip. What a great way to get to know each other. From what I see and know Dani seems amazing."

"Was I quick?" Dani rejoins Carrington in the car.

"Yeah, I've just been ranting to the viewers." He lets her know.

"Again, I'm sorry. I don't know how I forgot my phone inside."

"It didn't bug me." He says before changing the topic, "You know people said you have a type? Have you seen that?" He asks her.

"What?" She was confused never seeing such a thing.

"Yeah like..."

"How?" She laughs.

"Because when we had that group get together last week at Jake's. We were chatting in the background of a video Jake posted so people say you have a type." He explains to her then sees one on the guys leaving, "Oh look, a triplet is leaving."

"Matt." She waves at him so he waves back.

"But because we talked people think your type is brunettes with blue eyes." Carrington goes back to what they were talking about, "I feel like that is such a reach." He laughs, "Just because you're close to three others that fit that. What do you think?" He asks her.

"Actually, they aren't wrong for once." She giggles.

"So that's actually your type when it comes to looks? Is it the eyes that do it for you?" He gives her a look and she smiles since that was the main thing.

"Some blue eyes are just so beautiful." She tells him, "You, the triplets, Colby's and Sam's. I have dark blue but light ones..." She smiles more as Carrington looks at her.

"I love yours." He lets her know.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's a deep blue." He nods his head.

"But yeah, my ex and everyone I've even had a crush on had light blue eyes." She tells him.

"Now people are gonna assume." He gives her a look and she nods her head rolling her eyes a bit.

"You and the other two."

"Just because someone fits that look doesn't automatically mean you like them. You can find them attractive but you aren't attracted to their personality." He goes on to add what he believes in.

"You completely get it. You and the triplets are good looking but I don't automatically have feelings for y'all."

"That would be odd." He laughs, "It's... Can you imagine just having feelings for someone based on how they look?"

"Good looking but is the biggest red flag." She adds.

"Like it's fine to be attracted to someone but you can't just go off of that. Don't do that guys." Carrington looks right into the camera, "Be smart."

"Be attracted to their personality." Dani does the same, "That's way better than looks."

"Looks are a bonus, guys, trust me." Carrington tells the viewers.

"Personality, looks." Dani makes a top three list, "What's third?" She asks him.

"I don't know." He thinks, "I don't know, you gotta be funny as well." He starts to laugh.

After about another like 20 minutes they finish up then he leaves while Dani goes back inside. Matt was still out and about so Dani got to rest by getting some time alone. With it being quiet Dani decided to take a nap because she woke up at 5:30am for some reason. 

When Matt gets back home, after buying stuff for around the house and food, he goes to Dani's room to see her sleeping. Not having anything to do and bored out of his mind he slides into her bed next to her.

Immediately, his arms slip around her from behind, slotting himself right up against her back. The gentle press of her spine against his chest makes him smile to himself because he can never get enough of how fucking perfectly she fit there. Leaning forward he press his mouth to the soft skin of her shoulder, peppering a few soft kisses there.

Dani hums keeping her eyes shut, "What?" She quietly mumbles still super tired.

"I wanna nap too." He whispers to her as he nudges his nose against the side of her neck. Dani hums in response moving her hand to rest over the one Matt has pressed against her stomach.

Matt grins against her skin. "Love you." His breath warm against her neck. He made sure not to say I this time because he didn't want to scare her again like last time.

Both of them succumb to the comfort of being with one another, "I love you too." She whispers so quietly Matt almost didn't hear her. He stays silent with a smile across his face as his fingers intertwine with hers before allowing himself to fall asleep as well.

[jesncin]

Comfort Food, featuring Omurice curry and Sushi!

[arcanacards]

Pokemon Cookbook... cute pins... Madoka shirt... snacks, and more manga (I think I have the entirety of the pmmm series now? minus some spin-offs and side stories!) ... and the cake. omg. the cake was so precious okay, that box had a bunch of paper butterflies that flew out when you opened it?? and it made me so happy my parents are so cute for doing that i love them so much. this was such a great birthday sobsob

[retiredcultistredux]

Hyness, Why are you so scared of Ester? Have you met him before?

Hyness: "The girls and I used to read up on old legends in our spare time, and there was one talking about 'The Mind Compressor', described as a shadowy figure in a red cloak that people only ever saw in hallucinations. So, of course, there was skepticism...especially considering it's rumored that the headaches he causes can be fatal. But that can't be true, right?" He sighed.

Hyness: "...Anyway. Back before he came out of the shadows...I could see him. And hear him. It was unsettling...some of the things he said...the scariest one was that he said he could hurt me at any moment if he wanted to. And I mean...physically. Part of me was skeptical, but...Javez did attack me, after all. And if Ester's here...they have to be working together. They're not afraid to hurt me, but...they won't kill me. Not yet. I know what they really want."

Hyness: "...Ester was right. This is all my fault. If I hadn't tried opening up that portal...running away like a coward...Javez wouldn't have jumped through it. Well, I mean...maybe not, anyway. He could've tracked me down at that point and found me whenever...regardless, I...I should've just explained everything to the girls. I was terrified as to how they'd react, but...maybe if I told them...we'd all be more prepared for something like this...and none of us would be in danger. Not for a while longer, anyway. ...Delaying the inevitable...maybe that is all I'm doing...maybe..." His voice trailed off, and he returned to his thoughts. At least the core isn't glowing anymore. For some reason. It could start back up at any moment, though.

[notmeowse]

That AMA marks the end of Dragon Age.

In my opinion.

I'll start by saying that I have played all 3 of the previous games repeatedly, I've loved the series for 15 years, more than half my life. These games inspired me to become a writer and they've shaped a lot of my tastes and interests in shows and writing -- to say they were formative is kind of an understatement. Don't want to go on and on about how much I loved them, that's not the point here.

I didn't care for Veilguard for pretty much all of the reasons people have already discussed at length on Reddit and Tumblr. The writing is comprehensively bad, the romances are easily the worst Bioware has written by pure virtue of having the most cookie-cutter pacing and shallow characterization I've seen across their games, the lore has been shafted in every direction, and the nuanced storytelling and roleplay I came to expect from the series has been taken out back and shot in the head.

All, apparently, in the name of a "clean slate". It seems to me that, rather than familiarizing himself with the existing lore of the game he took the creative reins on, Epler clearly had a vision for Dragon Age (or perhaps a different IP entirely) in his head that he decided to transplant into the game (and possibly Trick? But they've said so little beyond defending their work that I can hardly theorize what direction they were coming from). That being a sanitized, wildly self-contradicting, morally absolute shitshow focused on distancing itself from the previous games as much as possible. Now, I know it's unrealistic to blame one person entirely, and I don't blame him entirely. Corinne was there. Trick was there.

But if it wasn't already evident from the numerous interviews Epler's given on the game as well as his participation in the Q&A's (while the actual lead writer of the game has been completely absent in not just the marketing, but in most fan-related interaction pre and post-launch outside of BSKY), this AMA seems to have confirmed, more than anything else, that Epler doesn't understand the game nor does he understand its audience. Neither does Corinne Busche, who despite being Game Director for only the last two years of development, has been answering lore questions a) like she has any fucking clue and b) like she thinks Dragon Age is a cozy-gamer IP, meant to appeal to people that want uplifting stories with uncontroversial characters, morally upright heroes, and unquestionably evil villains.

So as of today's AMA, I think I've finally had enough. We're just outright retconning the lore in Reddit AMA's now, I guess. Among other things. I'll provide a few examples, just so we're all on the same page.

This was part of Epler's response to why Solas didn't have his cult following in the game (insert "We Kind of Forgot" meme here):

Solas' experience leading the rebellion against the Evanuris turned him against the idea of being a leader. You see it in the memories - the entire experience of being in charge ate at him and, ultimately, convinced him he needed to do this on his own. And his own motivations were very different from the motivations of those who wanted to follow him - he had no real regard for their lives or their goals. So at some point between Trespasser and DATV, he severed that connection with his 'followers' and went back to being a lone wolf.

The fact that this (the not caring bit) directly contradicts the writing in the actual game is absolutely INSANE to me, moreso than the lack of Solas's spy network (which he apparently carried with him for 10 years only to conveniently drop right before the ritual? Because he clearly had them research Rook?). But in regards to the not caring -- here's a line from Solas's memory of killing Mythal in Veilguard, which. I'll get to Mythal in a minute:

Why should I not tear down the Veil, and bring back immortality to all the elven people? They deserve it!

Which is it? Does Solas care about the people he's saving (the venn diagram of people he's saving vs. the people following him is surely a circle, i.e. elves) or not? Does he even care about the spirits trapped behind the Veil anymore or is it just convenient to abandon them and have him only care about elves, now? What happened to saving The People? What happened to him not identifying as an elf in his conversations with a Dalish Inquisitor? And what the absolute fuck happened to him wanting to bring back the magical marvels (that the ancient elves did in fact achieve) that were greater than anything we see in Thedas today? Here's what Epler has to say about elven magic, now:

I do agree that the elves have had their place in the sun at this point. [...] The thing about the Evanuris is that, ultimately, they were able to take a very specific type of magic and shape it into doing what they wanted. But even their understanding of magic was only skin deep [...] Even the magic that Tevinter wields, the magic of the Southern mages, is different from what the Evanuris used. The magic of the Evanuris is powerful but it's sterile, and it's constrained. So while the Evanuris have made magic work in a way that's more predictable and understandable, it's not the only kind of magic out there, and even then, I'd say they understood it at a very surface level. People were confidently describing how the natural world worked back in the 16th century. Very few of them were right.

First of all, Tevinter has been stated in previous games to have clumsily adapted ancient elven magic for their own, but they did adapt it. To the point where even Solas is surprised that Corypheus achieved effective immortality -- by binding himself to a dragon the same way the Evanuris did. So, cool, more contradicting the lore here. "They understood it at a very surface level" you mean when all of the magic of the Fade wasn't locked behind the Veil? You mean when magic flowed freely through the world? What do you mean, Surface Fucking Level? The entire point of the Dalish elf culture is what they lost; this wasn't the ancient elves thinking the sun revolved around the earth, the Veil was their fucking Library of Alexandria burning. Oh my god. I still cannot believe he said this.

And how have the elves had their day in the sun? I'm sorry, was Arlathan not given to... the Veil Jumpers? Instead of the Dalish? What happened to all the Dalish clans in the south, who had no infrastructure when the world was apparently blighted to hell? I guess they're just gone now! They've had their day! The story of the Dalish and the Evanuris is over (also confirmed in this AMA), and it apparently ends with the final snuff of the candle that is their culture. Congratulations, Chantry, you've won! Only took two genocides and a double blight, but we're done with the Dalish now! We get your mind-numbingly superficial factions instead!

What happened to Mythal, by the way? What happened to "She was betrayed as I was betrayed, as the world was betrayed! Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and I will see her avenged!" What happened to the reckoning that will shake the very heavens? John's answer to this:

People grow and change over time. Mythal's essence - and in particular, the fragment of her spirit that Morrigan carries, that she got from Flemeth - is not the same Mythal who he knew millennia ago. Centuries of living in this world and being around the kinds of people Flemeth found herself around - the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke, the Inquisitor - changed her views, and made her realize her own culpability in turning Solas into the kind of person he is now.

Oh, right, okay. So she was pissed for like a thousand years, got her big speech about the impending "reckoning" out 10 years ago, and then she just chilled out because the last 3 heroes were neat people. What a fucking joke. And yes, here is the confirmation that the Evanuris story is over --

The story of the Evanuris is done - the gods are dead (or imprisoned) and Thedas is in a state of flux and uncertainty. I imagine that whatever happens next is going to be a surprise to everyone, including the people of Thedas."

So I guess Mythal's reckoning is never coming. One of the most fascinating characters in the series, shrouded in mystery for those first 3 games, PROMISING US a blaze of glory, only to fizzle out in this one. Again, and I can't emphasize this enough, for Epler's clean fucking slate. And we've not just tied up her story, but also the Veil and the Blight:

When Solas bound himself (or, depending on your ending, was forcibly bound) to the Veil, it severed the connection that the Blight had to the waking world. The reality is that the Veil has been leaking ever since the Magisters first entered the Black City, and the dreams of the Titans gave it its terrible and awesome power. Now that the Veil is fully repaired, the Blight lacks that motive force, and being so close to the epicenter of that change has stripped the Blight in Minrathous of its vitality. It's calcified now - dead - and Bellara/Neve no longer suffer its effects. If they'd been anywhere else, further from that epicenter, it would've likely been different and they still would be looking for a cure.

So the Veil is permanently fixed now because our half-dead Dread Wolf bound himself to it (a decision I still don't understand) and that somehow fixed every single hole ever poked in it. Fully repaired. No more holes, no more "Veil is thin here" because tons of people died in the same spot, nope, we're washing our hands and leaving it (and the spirits) behind us because we've wrapped up both the series-long Veil storyline and the blight storyline in a big red bow.

And Epler tells us Solas not only bound himself to the Veil but fixed it entirely in one fell swoop, no ritual required, just a little slice to the hand. Again, all in the name of a clean slate, so any future installments or media centered around Thedas can turn away from this story.

Then there's this. What we can expect from future installments, I freaking guess. The aforementioned roleplay getting taken out back and shot:

Q: "What lead you to the decision to step away from active conversations with the companions as in previous Bioware games, where you can initiate them at any moment and ask exhaustive questions?"

John: "For us, because of tech limitations, it became a choice between exhaustive investigate conversations, or letting the companions move more freely around the Lighthouse. With the kind of experience we were going for, one where seeing the team grow around you is paramount, we felt that seeing them interact in common spaces (and in each other's rooms) made more sense."

Literally confirmed that they chose companions moving freely about the cabin over ... interacting with them outside the handful of cutscenes we got. Who in their right mind would think this was a good call in a Dragon Age game? A series that quite literally prides itself on complex character interactions and storytelling? So they could... sit in different places? Are you kidding me?

They don't see an issue with the game's reception. They don't have any interest in addressing or responding to criticism. They're either happy with their choices or EA's got a gun pointed at their heads, I'm honestly not sure anymore. I used to believe the latter was true, but looking at both Epler's and Busche's responses today, I'm inclined to believe the former.

So I think that's it for the series. Not that I thought it was going to get another game after this, but on the absolute off chance it did, what would be the point? The best stories were ruined. Anything left they have to tell is going to read a lot like Veilguard -- superficial, morally absolute, flagrantly disrespectful to the lore, and delivered in a very poorly written package.

[shushmal]

okay but a like post-series fic i want that's like: steve harrington being the only man left in hawkins fighting monsters

and not like a 'everyone died, last man standing' way but just. they beat it back, the story ends, nice little tie-up and neatly concluded, eleven loses her powers because their world is completely cut from the other. and life goes on. eddie (yes, eddie lives au don't fight me) goes off with his band, robin-nancy-jargyle off to separate cities for college. the kids go to high school, graduate high school, and scatter across the country. joyce and hop buy a beach house far-far-far away from goddamn hawkins indiana.

steve though. steve stays. he does it too without comment, takes all their calls telling him all these amazing things. the years pass. the calls are fewer and far between. he's mostly in contact with only dustin and robin. except robin's out of country doing some crazy temp job in some remote country, she never catches him at home right now so just leaves him messages. and it takes a couple of weeks for dustin to realize he hasn't gotten steve on the phone.

frantically he calls around "have you heard from steve???" except the most people talk to steve anymore is like phone calls during holidays and holy shit what could have happened??

and what if it's back?

cue everyone who can in that moment, rushing back. eddie hopping on a flight from fucking london direct to indianapolis somehow, heart in his throat. he manages to meet hopper in the airport and they pick up max and dustin at the bus station.

they get to hawkins that is even more different that what they left. a smaller town, a town that shuts down completely when the sun sets. it's creepy and deserted.

except for the fucking upside down monsters of course.

and they're in their stupid little rental in front of this demogorgon and they're screaming but then the thing just goes splat on the concrete and steve fucking harrington is blinking owlishly at them.

"Oh, hey guys!" he calls jogging up to the driver's side window. "Wow, what brought you back down this way? You should have told me, I would have told you about the curfew!"

turns out steve just forgot to pay his phone bill that month, didn't even realize he was missing calls and he's been fighting monsters the entire time because actually they WEREN'T cut off from the upside down at all and he's just been casually fighting monsters for the remaining hawkins residence—the whole town knows now and steve's the guy you call when you have a monster problem

sidebar: WAYNE still lives in hawkins, and he and steve are best friends, eddie munson you are gonna LOSE YOUR MIND

[idolomantises]

I haven't drawn Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss redesigns since last year and the fandom still regularly tags me/picks fights with me over them. I did not think a couple drawings would live in people's heads so rent free.

Like you can go find my redesigns on twitter, they're still very public. I just label them as "Angel Dust redesign" or "Alastor redesign". The only time I think I explicitly called a design bad was when I said I found Beelzebub's design atrocious. Which it is. It's an overdesigned mess that doesn't convey the sin at all, I'm allowed to say I don't like it. And even still, when I posted the art, I still labeled it as "Beelzebub redesign".

I'm not going to forget when you fans regularly stalked my account and PATREON just to figure out when I would upload the redesigns. You think I forgot about when I posted my Angel Dust redesign which was just meant to improve my old design and you people harassed me for days? You accused me of "baiting" fans because you are so self-obsessed you think everything I do is explicitly to upset you. You people misgendered me, told me to kill myself, called me a fucking cockroach and flat out threatened to assault me multiple times. Sure I was harsh about my critiques, but I didn't resort to homophobic and transphobic comments like you people did with my Angel Dust redesign because for some unexplained reason you diehard fans who have been following this project for 10 years didn't know that he's meant to be a drag queen. When I did a quick redesign of Katie Killjoy on my personal tumblr, guess what? You people flipped the fuck out, AGAIN.

I can't even talk about my own religion without you sad, paranoid losers thinking I'm trashtalking hazbin hotel. You made up some rumor that I block all Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss fans (despite being mutuals/friends with people who are fans of the shows or actually work on them) just so you could justify harassing me even more. You told me for years that I should wait until the Hazbin series dropped to get my full thoughts out and when it did you people still freaked out and berated me.

Even when I talked about my situation after posting my Angel Dust redesign, instead of apologizing, fans claimed I planned this hostile reaction to begin with to make the fandom look bad. That I was "pulling a transphobia card" for sympathy. I didn't do shit. You people have gotten more aggressive about your hate towards me because people finally saw how incredibly inappropriate and vile you people act over a midtier cartoon written by someone who has so many allegations of bullying, transphobia, racism and workplace abuse that it's become harder and harder for you to deny, so you take out your unrepressed anger on me.

I know the only reason you people target me is because I'm a big artist who doesn't kiss Viv's ass. You want me to be a diehard fan of hers like every other big artist you people bully into worshipping Viv and her show and I won't do it. So you just obsessively stalk and monitor my account and accuse every little thing I do as a spiteful attack so you can justify your little harassment campaigns again. It's pathetic.

Seek help, find a hobby, stop obsessing over people who don't like the same thing as you. It's getting sad.

[kat-mobile]

Hey love ❤️ hope you’re doing good

Can I request Tommy with a gentle, empathetic and sensitive reader please. It was an arranged marriage and he found out his new wife would cry herself to sleep over a book she read or just a cat. His reaction to someone who is completely opposite of him

Thank you in advance ✨

Tommy with a wife who's his complete opposite

A/N: Hey baby, thanks for the request!! I'm doing good and I hope you are too ❤️ I forgot to put on the requests post to specify if you want it as a fic or headcanons so I've made it sort of a mix of the two, hope that's okay anon. I made this blog to try and improve my writing skills and as this is my first attempt it isn't the best, so sorry about that lol. Hope you like it!! (this is set sometime around series 1-2 cause those are my fave)

It was an arranged marriage and to be honest... you weren't particularly thrilled by the notion of being married to Birmingham's most known and feared gangster. But you would do anything for your family and if your father decided that this is what would be best for securing the future of the family then you'd follow through on your part of the deal, even if it seemed like you and Tommy had absolutely nothing in common.

This was a couple months ago now and you had somewhat settled into your new life in Small Heath and with Tommy by your side, the two of you living in comfortable tandem. You had settled into a routine and life was good, or as good as it could be with the risk of being married to a Shelby.

He would buy you any book that you so much as happened to glance at and in turn you would patch up and sew back together any unfortunate pieces of clothing that got in the way of Tommy and his dangerous life style and work, fighting back tears and worrying at your lower lip as you did so. You may not quite understand why he was constantly putting himself in danger but he was your husband all the same and you had grown to love him as your marriage progressed

you would also force him to go and see an actual trained medical professional whenever he came home with said ruined clothing, as a dead husband is less than ideal and you have grown attached these last couple months

Your empathy and tendancy to cry over him when he got hurt was a shock at first but he quickly got used to it, he even tried to avoid getting hurt just so as to not have to see you cry over him

He may not say it outright but he appreciates everything you do and how much you care for him

He doesn't like to keep secrets from you but he doesn't share all aspects of work life with you as he doesn't want you to worry too much, but if being kept in the dark would worry you even more he'd make an effort to keep you in the loop

Your gentleness and compassion is a welcome contrast to his life from before you were apart of it, Tommy didn't know that he needed it before you

If there's one thing about Tommy Shelby, it's that he protects what's his and as his wife he treats you with the utmost care (especially if you have a tendancy to seek out the good in all people)

One night when Tommy (finally) came to bed he found you curled up in a ball on your side with your back to the door, tears gently running down your smooth cheeks

Unsure of what to do when confronted by your distress but still wanting to help, he'd rush to your side and scoop you up onto his lap, holding you close with your tear-stained cheek pressed against his chest and an arm thrown protectively around your shoulders. He'd cautiously rock back and forwards whilst his hand moves slowly up and down your back in what he hopes is a soothing motion. He's a little awkward and stiff but damn if he isn't fucking trying

He'd use his forefinger and thumb to tilt your chin up and force your eyes to meet his own before softly questioning you on why you were crying

"What you crying for, hmm love? Ruining your pretty face"

He'd say, wiping away your tears with his thumb

Upon hearing that the reason for your tears was a sad ending to one of the books he bought you he'd be a little taken aback and he would honestly have to suppress the urge to laugh

It all seemed rather silly to him that you'd cry over some words on paper

"Tommy it isn't funny, it was really upsetting" you'd hiccup out through your tears

he'd just shake his head and sigh, apologising, before pulling you closer, finally laying down on the bed with your legs intertwined

Tommy had hoped it would be a one of chance but when he caught you crying in bed again over the ending of Of Mice and Men, he very quickly figured that he'd have to adapt

Tommy developed a system for when you had your... shall we say moments, he'd sit down on his side of the bed with his back pressed against the headboard before he lifted you up and placed you in-between his legs

Sitting you so that your back was resting against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat

You would then explain to him the sad moments in your books as he softly hummed and nodded his head along to your words

And when he got tired from your quiet voice lulling him to sleep he'd pull you down with him as he laid on his side, caging you in against his chest with an arm around your waist

Those were the nights that he slept the best

[winterarmyy]

My Person

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: In which Sam's question forces Bucky to reveal his true feelings to his so called "friend", Y/N.

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Words: 3.2k++

Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, fluff, wee bit of angst, bucky is so adorable in this I WANT HIM SO BAD, also he is a bit feral. I feel like he can be more feral than this but you know, he doesn't wanna scare her away lol. This is just a result from surge of need so might not be too much of plot but I hope you enjoy your reading, anyway.

Inspiration: This post right here by @black-cat-2

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Sam took notice on every single crooks and corners as he followed Bucky's dragging footsteps from behind. It wasn't that he didn't want to help him but Bucky refused the offer right on the bat, saying that the serum will fix him up sooner or later.

The aftermath of their final battle with the flagsmasher was chaotic to say the least. With the splitting sides of public opinions of the new Captain America and the whispers about how the former winter soldier saved a bunch of civilian tonight had been the talk of the town.

But both Sam and Bucky decided not to think of it too much,  especially when both were exhausted from the fight. Not to mention Bucky was injured. Although Sam knew damn well that the soldier can managed himself to a hotel to rest for the night like he always does, but as a worried friend, or rather a babysitter some would say, he insisted to accompany Bucky all the way through.

And Bucky was not in the mood to argue; Sam is as equally stubborn as Steve used to be, so he let the man do whatever he wants.

It was clear Sam was suspicious of where the hell did this terminator brought him to, but mostly he was curious. He thought he would just accompany him to the nearest hotel but nope. After taking an Uber, the next thing he knew, Bucky was leading him into this apartment building, that was obviously not his.

"Last time I checked your apartment was in Brooklyn. When did you get a place here?" Sam asked as Bucky stopped at one of the identical looking doors.

"It's not mine" Bucky replied truthfully as he removed the glove from his fleshed hand and pressed his thumb at the top of the door handle.

Sam eyed him with a look on his face when he sassed at him, "Said the guy who is currently unlocking the doors with his fingerprint."

Bucky simply rolled his eyes before the chiming sound alerts that the door was unlocked. Bucky opened the door to let Sam inside before he himself got in after him. "Seriously, man. If I knew you can afford having two apartments I would've asked you to pay for tonight's dinner. That's the least you can do..." Sam's words died as his eyes scanned the apartment.

Whatever he was expecting the apartment to look like, it was far from it. He surely was not expecting the place to be fully decorated with complete set of furniture in every area of the room. Whether it is the living room area, or the huge kitchen that was also equipped with built-in oven.

Even with the lack of light, Sam could see the color pallette on the walls were definitely not what Bucky would go for. The sentimetal trinkets on the shelves, the sweet fragrant of the scented candles; everything was the very opposite of what Bucky's apartment in Brooklyn looks like, feels like.

This, it felt like home. Warm and inviting. Quiet and serene.

"You know what? I take that back. Whose house have you broke us into?" Sam asked, almost in awe rather than shocked, "I know for a fact that this ain't your house."

Bucky huffed a heavy breath as he remove his tactical gears, "I didn't say it was mine, remember? Or flying with the pigeons in the sky had made you forgot how to undertand human language?" there was an unfiltered sarcasm in his tone that didn't go unnoticed by Sam.

So obviously he got defensive and unknowingly increase his volume as he countered, "Woah woah, that was uncalled for. And for your information pigeons can't fly as fast a my wings, and rest assured that I--"

Bucky swiftly stomped towards him, eyes wide almost in anger, while his metal hand reached to cover Sam's mouth, "Can you shut the fuck up, she's probably asleep and your noisy ass will wake--"

"Bucky?" A tiny yet groggy voice interrupted the conversation causing both of them to turn their attention to the source. The figure peeped itself from the bedroom, her uncertainty made it that only half of her body was revealed through the doorway.

Her squinting eyes indicates how recent she was woken up from her sleep and Bucky flashed a quick glared at Sam for that. Sam simply shrug with his hands the air as a response. He was still confused who is this woman and why were they in her house.

Bucky's tight features softens as he called for her, "Hey, babydoll. What are you doing up?"

Recognizing that voice anywhere her feet made her way to him, "Heard some noises." She answered shortly as her knuckles find her eyes and rubbed it lightly. The closer she gets, the clearer Bucky can see the dark circles under her eyes, signifying how much she was lacking of sleep.

His heart squeeze a little at the sight, "M'sorry, sweetheart." it was as if their bodies were magnets that they naturally found each other. Bucky opened his arms wide for her to find her rightful place in his embrace.

"It's okay" she mumbled against his sturdy chest. "Welcome home." She continued.

You'd be surprise to know how much the former winter soldier absolutely adore the feeling of her lips moving against his skin. Even if it was blocked by the fabric of his shirt. It always felt good and he swore he could not get enough of it.

Bucky leaned down on top of her head, inhaling the strawberry yogurt scent of her shampooed hair, "Yes. I am home, indeed." His hugged got tighter, crushing her just enough to make those pretty little sounds slipped her from lips.

Strings of hushed moan kept purring in her throat when Bucky lightly swayed her from side to side; his fleshed hand drawing invisible circles on the back of her waist, while his metal hand gently squeeze the back of her neck.

If she let him pamper her more than this, they'd probably forget that Sam was in the room. Unabashedly had his mouth agape at the sight in front of him. He was not sure whether he wanted to look away or to continue staring because no amount of explanation will suffice to answer his questions.

Peeking from Bucky's shoulder, she smiled warmly as she finally acknowledge the unexpected guest, "You must be Sam. I've heard a lot about you."

She tried to wiggle an escape from Bucky arms, but it was no avail; he was not planning to let her go any time soon. She ended up dragging the enormous koala bear who was stuck on her back as she offered Sam a handshake, introducing herself.

"Good things I hope." Sam took her hand and lightly shake it as she replied, "Of course." As much as he wanted to keep his eye contact with her, it was extremely hard when the grumpy super soldier that he knew was basically melting in crook of her neck.

"I don't want to be rude but the two of you are..." Sam purposely left his words hanging, hoping that one of them would finish the sentence before he let out his assumption, however both of them remained silent. The woman was blinking at him confused, while Bucky was practically still drooling over the her.

"...Lovers?" Sam ended his sentence with an uncertain tone.

Both of them went rigid to the question but before Bucky could say anything, she answered first, "No!" She almost shouted, taking a deep breath before she rephrase her answer, "No. I mean yes. We're not... like that."

"So, you guys are friends then?" Sam quirked an eyebrow to her answer, and seeing Bucky's silence, he guessed that the super soldier might liked her more than just 'friends'.

"Yup, we are. We first met when Bucky was on the run from Hydra, before you guys found him. It's a long story, really." And by the time she explained the shorten version of their story, Bucky finally drifted his attention to Sam, a deep frown decorated his brows as he was mentally asking, "How much longer are you going to stand there? Get the fuck out."

Sam should be offended by his silent orders but considering he came in the middle of the night, uninvited, he realized that he should leave them be,"Then, let that be a reason for us to meet again. You can tell me all about this meet-cute of yours later. I don't want to keep you away from him any longer. Especially when he is staring daggers at me."

She lightly tapped on Bucky's arms, and quick frown at him followed after as she non-verbally asking him stop glaring at Sam. Needless to say, Sam removed himself from the scene after they, or rather she, bid him goodbye.

As soon as the doors closed, Bucky has her back pressed against the door, wasting no time than to capture her lips. A gasped from her made it easy for him to slip his tongue inside. He kissed her slow yet so hungrily as if he was starved of the taste of her sweet mouth against his.

Bucky broke the kiss momentarily just to whisper, "I missed you so much, babydoll." With his thigh in between her legs, he guided her clothed core to slowly hump against him. "Missed you, too." Her beautiful moans only encourage his cock to swell even more than it already was.

Breaking the kiss, Bucky let her catch a breath as his glazed eyes adored her soft features. He still remembered the day when he first met her.  When he escaped from Hydra's control, he was determined to keep his life down low. Don't attract to much attention, follow the schedule and stick to rules.

And his schedule was never interesting, it was always:

- write his journal entry

- find/do odd and non-permenant jobs for money

- grocery shopping and cooking

- watch the news

- and mostly just stay at home

Obviously, Bucky knows how to use the internet and all those modern devices that they have nowadays, but he never understand them; the 'social media' and the 'viral' things were never really appealing to him. So one day he decided to pay a visit to a small local library; hoping to find fimiliar solace in books instead.

What are the odds that both of them reach for the same book at the same time? After the multiple exchange of: 'Oh, I'm sorry, here take it.' 'No, you take.' 'No, please I insist.' They ended up meeting on a common ground; making a decision to sit down and read together. Turns out, spending a few hours with her at the library was the most peace he had since forever.

Bucky had a strict routine and rules. But the moment she asked him if he want to spend more time with her while she was there, he was ready to break all of it. And he did; for 7 days straight.

She was his first sense of freedom. His first choice in life.

Though, back then he was on a run, for presumably a lifetime, while she was on business trip for a week. So, they lost contact after that, especially when Bucky was running around with the Avengers and fighting aliens, but fate seemed to be on their side when they were reunited again in New York.

It's a miracle that she even recognized him. Little did he knew, he wasn't the only one who got hooked on the first few hours of that reading session had.

Though, he was extremely grateful that she reach out the moment she recognized him; no hesitant, no doubt. Just a confident and cheerful shout of his name in middle of the park that he walks through everyday.

The first thing that came out from her mouth after calling out his name was a compliment of his new hair cut and how she can see his beautiful eyes more clearer now. And that alone had made Bucky absolutely red in blush.

Weeks after that, she often joined him with his daily walk, making it their routine instead of just his. And months into this newly founded 'friendship', they found solace in each other's arms, comfort in each other's touch, and this quickly become their new favourite activity to do together.

Though none of them ever actually discuss their status but their body language suggest that they are more than just friends.

Especially with the way Bucky was rubbing the tip of his leaking cock on her clit; so desperate yet so gentle. Just like how he always does when he makes love to her. But, tonight he felt different. Maybe he was just needy or maybe it was the way she admit that they were not lovers when Sam asked about their relationship.

It was true. But, it felt so wrong.

"Am I just a friend to you, doll? Bucky leaned forward, his forehead met hers, his hot breath tickling her skin.

His tongue briefly passed in between his lips as he spreads her legs further, revealing her dripping cunt for his display, "Do your friends touch you like this, hmm?" His husky whisper as he rubbed his hardened length in between her slit, brushing against her clit.

"Do your friends kiss you all over like me?" She moaned breathily, as he bit and kiss the softness of her breasts; easily leaving his marks as if she was his to claim.

And without any warning, his cock slammed straight into her hole, stretching the walls to his size causing her to yelp in painful pleasure. Bucky let out a satisfied groan as the tightness of her around him, "Do your friends fuck this tight little pussy with their cock like me?"

Bucky couldn’t stop himself from pulling and pushing his hips to meet hers, his fingertips was practically digging into the flesh of her hips, moving her in time with his thrusts, "What am I to you, baby?" Honestly, it was hard for her to form complete thoughts, let alone reply to his question when he was fucking her so good.

Gone was the gentleman she knew for the past years, the koala bear that she spent hours on the couch cuddling to a movie marathon with. Now, there was only this feral beast, hungry for pleasure, insatiable to devour her whole body and soul.

Each roll of his hips pushed her further from her sober thoughts, focusing only on the wild look on his face, his huge body hunched over hers, his throbbing cock kissing her cervix. Any answer she was trying to convey was lost at the tip of her tongue; there were just the mewling mess, as she fell apart underneath him, compliant to his every thrust as his cock ramming within her. "Tell me. Come on, now. Use your words."

Bucky was almost losing his mind, from how bad he wanted to cum and how stubborn she was for not answering his questions. He pushed her legs up and wide as his thrust punctuated to his words,  "What. Am. I. To. You?"

It took her a couple of long moans at his roughness, before she could utter a single word, the only correct answer to his question, "Mine."

He groaned approvingly, pulling back just enough to slide his metal between their bodies. "I'm yours?" Those hard, cold fingers that she loved so much was quick to find her clit. She was already sensitive from all the friction of his rutting, and now was he relentlessly assaulting the swollen nub, "Then, does that make you mine as well huh, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Bucky. You're mine. And I'm yours. All yours. Pleasee"

Her back arches off the bed, toes curling tight as her nails dug into his skin and across his back; To have some kind of a leverage to hold as the overwhelming pleasure surged through her body.

"Yeah, that's right, babygirl. You're mine and mine alone. Mine to love, mine to fuck. Yes?" Bucky taunted her with both his words and the way he rutted into her wet pussy, as if he himself was not close to the egde.

The sound of skin to skin clashing intertwined with the sounds of her pussy squelching around his cock, his girth kept pounding straight into her sweet spot to the point that only lewd whimpers of plead were spewing out of her lips, "Yes, yes yes. Oh Bucky please,, fuck,, I'm cumming!"

"Cum, sweetheart. Let me feel that tight little pussy of mine cum around my cock" He hummed approvingly as he picked a deeper and harsher pace, causing her mouth to fall wide open and her eyes screwed shut as she felt her whole body shook as she came. "Yeah,, that's it, doll. That's my girl. fuckkk,, feels so good baby, gonna make me cum inside you if you keep choking me like that."

"Please, Bucky?" A breathy moan of his name passed her lips as she her walls spasm with need. Bucky groan to the sensation, he was sure that her pussy was already full of his precum, considering how it has been leaking inside her for so long, "Want my cum in you, pretty girl?"

Batting her eyes through her lashes, she stared up at him, pleading., "Need it, please."

"Oh fuck, you got it, sweetheart." Throwing his head back in pleasure, shutting his eyes solely to focus of the feeling of her wet and tight cunt, Bucky's pace quicken as he chased his high, "Hmmm,, fuckk,, gonna stuff you full. You'll leaking for days, babydoll. Then, I'm gonna keep filling you until you can't live without my cum inside your pussy."

Hearing such dirty confessiom only triggers her to near orgasm, "Yess pleasee i want it. Need it, bucky." Surely enough she came again when he hit that special spot inside her.

"Ahh,, fuck ahhh,, I'm cumming shit pussy so good m'cumming fuckkkk", Bucky couldn’t even stop himself from rutting in and out of her sweet pussy as his cock pulsed, especially when her cunt was sucking him in deeper.

His head fall down to watch his cock disappear inside her before squeezing it shut again when the white spurt of cum shoots against her walls. His jaw was loose as his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape to allow his loud groans contaminated the silenced room.

His thick endless cum warm her insides and the honeyed moans hanging off her lips to its own accord as Bucky hunched over her frame, pressing his face in crook of her neck, breathing heavily as she was. After awhile, a broken sound of his voice stopped the silence, "Do you really mean it?"

He refused to look at her in the eyes, afraid of the rejection that might come his way but she proved him wrong by holding him by his cheeks, leading his eyes to align with hers,

"Bucky. You, my dear, are my bestfriend; you are my heart, you are my person. And there is no one in this world that I'd rather spend my whole life with besides you." Her words was nothing but the truth and Bucky knew that.

His heart swelled with joy yet he didn't know how to express it other than, "I love you, doll..." there was pause as if he was gathering the pieces of his soul to offer it to her, "...So much."

And she accepted it with her whole heart, "I love you too, Bucky."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I was gone for awhile but never too long. Hope you enjoy this little drabble 👀

[suguwife]

Executive Tensions. (one)

tags: exbf!Gojo Satoru x f!reader, CEO x secretary, porn with plot, 18+ explicit sexual content, mdni, masturbating, slow burn, mentions of cheating, forced proximity, mini series

- 9.7k wc

a/n: this is the backstory to reader x gojo - angry heated one shot for this is in part two !!

(part two)

You had just posted a story on your Instagram, a picture of flowers that your new boyfriend gave you. Baby pink peonies, a big bouquet of them in the shape of a heart.

Only a few minutes after posting the photo, your phone vibrated, and your heart skipped a beat seeing your ex boyfriend’s name appear on your screen, Satoru. The message was simple and yet it made your heart beat faster. You shouldn’t be feeling like this, you hate him.

“He doesn't know that you prefer actual luxury gifts?” Was the first message he sent you in months, four months since the breakup. Why is he viewing your story?

You respond after a couple minutes with “I like flowers now.” Its an obvious lie. You knew he’d know. You had always been materialistic, you found gifts and money more efficient over flowers that would die anyway.

“You're lying.” He replied within seconds, obsessed much.

He had to admit, after stalking your socials for a little while, your new boyfriend seemed to make you happy, or at least that's the image you projected.

It was annoying, it made him feel sick to think that someone else could make you smile like that, or even more.

You reply after a couple minutes again, “Well I like flowers now. Stop texting me I already removed you as a follower.”

His jaw clenched and his grip on his phone tightened, seeing your reply, he wasn't expecting you to be so cold with him. But of course you would be, in a way he deserved that. “You didn't remove me, stop lying.”

“I just did.”

“Why? did your new boyfriend tell you to do that?”

He double texts another message, “Is he that insecure? Does he not want you interacting with your ex ‘cause he’s scared?”

You scoff a laugh in disbelief at his accusations, ironic coming from him. He seems to be the insecure one here. “No, I decided to remove you. Stop being so irritating.”

He doesn’t respond to that, he just re-reads over the conversation on his phone a couple times like an obsessive freak before throwing his phone on the bed and running his hand through his hair, “Fuck..”

Laying on his bed, he stared up at the ceiling and clenching his jaw as the image of you with your new boyfriend danced in his head.

The next day, Satoru sat in a black seat behind a long desk, a few of his assistants on either side. In front of him, the candidates for the new position that had just been opened in his company were standing before him, one after the other. The interviews had already been going on for quite some time, he was just beginning to get bored, until you walked in.

Honestly, you had no idea that Satoru would be here, until you saw him sitting on the main seat. The seat for the CEO of the building. You knew he was a CEO, but he had worked in a different building whilst you were dating. Despite the sudden shock running through, you remain calm and composed.

Your parents were bugging you to do something with your life and that you can’t live in their luxury for the rest of your days without working towards anything so, here you are. Applying for a boring office job, just so your parents would see you as a hard working woman. A useless thing, you believe. You’re fine as you are, perfectly financially stable.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw you, you were even more beautiful than the last time. He had only seen you off your socials since the breakup, but in real life your beauty glistened the entire room from boring and dull to bright and refreshing. He blinked a few times to recover from his surprise, before straightening up in his seat and looking at the papers in front of him.

Trying to ignore the hammering in his heart as he focused on the papers, he couldn't deny it now. He hadn't forgotten you, not at all. He never could. No amount of hookups would get his mind off you. In fact, during all those times he’d have sex with other women after the breakup, he’d only see your face despite how bratty and argumentative you became with him.

Little did he know that the only reason you became so hostile towards him was because he had cheated on you with a prostitute. He doesn't know you know. You didn’t bother to explain, wanted him to realise himself. But he clearly didn’t.

He was just about to say something when one of his assistants spoke up. "Excuse me sir, this is the last candidate to be interviewed, y/n l/n.”

Nodding in acknowledgment, he eyed you up and down. He tried to control his emotions and remain stoic, but in reality, it took all his self-control to stay that way.

He gestured for you to sit in the chair in front of him, his expression bored.

You keep your poker face plastered on as you take your seat, questioning yourself. When did he start working here? This building is #1 in Tokyo, he had been working a little lower before. Unless he owned this building too and just never told you?

God, this is so embarrassing, interviewing to be a low class assistant for your ex boyfriend just to please your parents.

You furrow your brows ever so slightly but regain your composure again, you needed this job. You needed to show your parents that you can do anything, you just choose not to. And it’s true, you can do anything, because now everyone beside him is smiling and whispering with amused expressions as they tick all the boxes near your name. Only Satoru had been staring into your eyes, like a staring contest between the two of you.

He cleared his throat before finally speaking up, his tone neutral. “Alright then, you may leave for now.”

After politely saying your goodbyes you make your exit, his pupils stalked you until you left the room and the door closed behind you. Letting out a slow sigh once you were gone, he felt his heart rate calm down to a normal pace once more.

“I think she did pretty well, sir.”

“One of the best from today, sir.”

He nods at his assistants, trying to play it off like he was unfazed by your presence. But deep down, seeing you again after so long in real time was like an electric shock to his heart. A reminder that he never got over you at all. Ugh, what was he thinking? You became a bitch, you broke up, the decision was mutual.

The assistant's voice pierced his thoughts. “So, what do you think sir? Should we hire her?”

He hesitates for a moment, his mind torn between his emotions and his rationality. He wanted to say no, to reject your application, but he couldn't seem to do that either, he knew you were qualified.

After some deliberation, he finally spoke up in a firm tone. “...Hire her for my secretary position. She has the necessary qualifications.”

As he spoke, a few of the people around him looked at him and each other with surprise visible on their face, but they immediately tried to mask it. They all knew that his position as CEO required a secretary, but they had been under the impression that he would never agree to hire someone for that position. Every time a candidate came in for the role, he’d always deny them. Clearly, you always got what you wanted and Satoru was willing to give you that, despite the fact you only interviewed for a low assistant role.

He could sense their surprise and knew that they had expected him to reject the idea of a secretary once again, but he didn't care. This time, he had a very selfish reason. He wanted you to be his secretary, so he could see you every day. Even if it was just for work.

He continued to look at the papers in front of him, pretending not to care about their reactions, his heart still pounding from the idea of you being his secretary.

Would you even accept the job? And if you did, what would happen between you two?

He didn't know and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out either.

“I expect one of you to alert her for her position and the expectations for it too.” He says coldly, standing up from his seat and fixing himself to head back to his main office. “Have her start her shift from tomorrow morning.”

He nodded to his assistants, indicating that he was done for today and didn't want to be disturbed, before leaving the room and walking down the long corridors to his main office. The thought of you working for him now excited him as much as it worried him. He would see you every day, but would he be able to control himself and remain professional...?

He arrived at his main office and closed the door behind him, heading to his desk and sitting down on the big leather chair. He placed his elbows on the desk and let his face rest in his hands, sighing deeply as he stared at the desk in front of him. This wasn't going to be easy at all.

Well, you knew you always got what you wanted, but you didn’t expect to be given the secretary role. You never even applied for that? Were the people around him just overly pleased by you so they convinced him or was he doing it out of the fact you're his ex?

Whatever the reason, you took it. You didn’t want to bother with anymore of those fuckass interviews. But you can’t believe he’s making you start the next morning, what a dick, as always.

Your black heels click as you enter his office dressed in dark tights, a dark grey pencil skirt and a sleeved white button up shirt, hair up in a French twist, just normal business attire. Oh but to him, oh fuck. As he sat on his seat, his dick sprung up to the sight of you, all dressed up like a hard working woman.

He mentally cursed himself, placing his hand casually as possible on his boner trying to hide the evidence even though you weren’t able to see anyway from his desk blocking your view.

He swallowed hard and quickly tried to compose himself, not wanting to let his surprise show.

Clearing his throat, he spoke up in a professional tone, “You're early, good. Have a seat in front of my desk.”

You want to mentally roll your eyes at him, of course you were going to take a seat. Did he just expect you to stand there until he told you what to do?

You keep your expression neutral as you take your seat and stare at him.

He couldn't help but study your features, the way your eyes landed on his, your hands folded on your knees as you crossed them over. Everything about you was exactly like he remembered.

He took a deep breath to recompose himself before speaking “You may be wondering why I hired you as my personal secretary.”

He leaned back, resting his arms on the armrests of his chair as he continued speaking. “I was going to pass on hiring one, but stocks have been rising lately so it’s been getting busy. And after the interview, I felt you were more than qualified for the job.”

His tone was professional, as if he were speaking to any other employee, but his dick was pulsing with its own heartbeat, faster than ever. It was painful, but he managed to remain stoic. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your face despite how hard it was making him. Would it be so bad if he wanked off to your pictures once you left? Maybe he shouldn’t do that. He carries on speaking. “But I'd better warn you, working as my secretary isn't easy. I have high expectations and demands-“

You cut him off, your tone blank and your expression still neutral. “I'm sure.”

God, he was infuriating to look at. You wanted to grit your teeth and roll your eyes or kick him but you remained professional and calm.

He was slightly amused by your response, your short, simple answer somehow satisfying him.

Leaning forward a bit in his chair, his eyes remained on you as he continued. “I have no doubt you can handle it.”

He paused for a moment before adding, “I hope you're up for the challenge.”

Tch, what challenge? The only challenge will have to be serving him for the next couple of months before you choose to quit.

His eyes lingered on your face for a few more moments, his heart still racing and the beat in his dick pulsing despite his calm demeanour. He tried to push the thoughts of your past relationship to the back of his mind, but being so close to you now was making it difficult. He wanted to reach out and touch you, but he knew he wasn't allowed to. He was your boss now, and he had to maintain a professional relationship with you.

“What do I have to do?” You question.

He sat back in his chair and picked up a folder on his desk, opening it and looking through the contents. You can’t deny how handsome he looks in his suit and his professional manner, it made you throb even though you despised him.

“Your primary job is to take and pass on my instructions, organise my schedule, arrange my meetings, prepare and take notes during business meetings, prepare reports, among other things.”

He glances up at you as he continues listing the duties of the position. “You will be in charge of handling my business calls and emails as well. Which means being available to me at all times.”

His eyes roam over your face, pausing for a moment on your lips before quickly looking back at the folder in front of him.

He closed the folder and placed it back on his desk, his eyes still on you. “Do you think you can handle this job? It can be demanding and time-consuming, not everyone is cut out for it...”

You inhale, exhale, and speak. “It's not that hard, just a lot of simple tasks to complete.” Really, it sounds like I’d be doing all his work for his lazy ass.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, seemingly entertained by your confident response. “You seem pretty confident in your abilities...” His arms across his chest, his voice suddenly more firm and serious. “But let me warn you, l have no patience for mistakes or incompetence. I expect everything to be done in a timely, accurate and professional manner. I'm not an easy boss to please, I demand the best of the best.”

“Yeah. I'm aware.” I state, a hint of irritating sarcasm in my tone. During our relationship, he'd always be toxic and impatient. Never understood the true meaning.. or even tried to understand the true meaning as to why you had become such a bitch towards him. Never came to the realisation that you were aware of his cheating.

He cleared his throat and sat up a bit straighter in his chair, trying to push those memories from his mind...

He kept his cool demeanour and spoke in a calm but strict tone.

“Good. As long as we're clear on that.” He paused for a moment, observing you closely as if trying to read your thoughts. He leaned forward a bit in his chair, his hands folded neatly in front of him on his desk.

“You start your first day of work today. I know that I’ve got a few meetings that need preparation and I need you to take on some duties today as well.”

He studied your face closely, taking in your reaction. He was still trying to figure you out, trying to figure out if you were hiding anything behind your neutral expression, but it was too hard. He always found it hard to understand you behind that expression.

“Okay. Do I get a written list or anything on what I need to do for each day?”

“Yeah, I have a list of assignments for you ready. But I'm also expecting you to keep up with daily tasks and schedules.”

He gestures to the laptop on the desk in front of you.

“There's a new file there. It's for all of the assignments and tasks you need to do, it's constantly updated and you'll find everything in it that you need to do for today and the future.”

You slide the laptop in front of you as you speak, breaking eye contact, “Okay.”

“Any questions?”

“Hm.. I’ll ask you when they come.”

“Can I ask a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why are you applying for jobs? You don’t even need to work.”

You sigh, of course he’d ask that. You didn’t want to let him in on too much. “Why do you care?”

“Don’t get that tone with me, I’m just wandering.” He glared at you with a firm and cold expression.

You roll your eyes at him, finally. Your eyes were begging to do that from the moment you entered this room. “My parents wanted me to do something.”

“Ah.. They doing okay?” He questions, a little smile on his face.

You don’t respond, just stare at him with a bored expression because, why the fuck is he asking how your family is?

He nodded with a small smirk playing on his lips, the fuck is he smiling for now? God you just wanted to get up and kick his dick, make sure he’s unable to fuck any other woman.

“Alright then. I have a meeting in about an hour. Get started on those tasks. And do a good job. I'll be watching you.” He cuts off your intrusive thoughts as he speaks.

You grab your laptop and say your goodbyes, you can’t help but be irritated with the way he’s speaking to you. No please, no thank you?

“She's still as cold as ever...” He mumbled to himself, his brain replaying the look on your face, the sound of your voice. He knew you were intentionally hiding your emotions, putting up a professional front, but he couldn't deny that he was enjoying the game of trying to figure you out.

He leaned back in his chair, sighing deeply as he tried to clear his mind. But he couldn't focus on his work, his thoughts still lingering on you.

You make your way to a smaller office designed for the secretary, small yet simple and spacious. You browse through your laptop which had a detailed list of assignments and tasks, some assigned to you that day and some that you would be handling in the days to come. “Jesus. I'm basically doing his work for him. Tch.” You whisper to yourself as you prepare the meetings and documents for today.

Meanwhile, in his office, his dick was still hard. Punching through his pants aching for release, he had to place his sweating forehead on his desk to control his breathing. But it was futile. He contemplated whether it would be harassment to touch himself to you but fuck, he needed to.

He stood up, walked heavily with ragged breathing and locked his office door then made his way back to his seat, immediately unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants and boxers down so he’d have access.

His mind ran back to the times he’d pound into you, the wet, filthy noises that would escape from your entrance and your tongue. His hands glided up and down at the thought. The words you’d say to him as he fucked you raw in his bed.

“Just like that toru.. mh…”

“Yeah? Like this?” And he’d slam into you balls deep, making you scream his name as he panted like a dog in heat “That feel good, princess?”

“So.. so g-goo- oh!” You were so drunk off his dick you were never able to form full words. He loved the way your soaked walls would clench him even though you’d whine, “T-too much.. no more!!” But no amount of your whining would make him stop, your pussy begged for him despite your words.

“Tell me how it feels.” He’d say through panting gasps as his fingers would rub over your clit rapidly whilst his dick hit your G-spot then pulled back out, then back in again, making sure to hit you well. He wanted to know how you felt as his dick would speed into you, wanted to raise his ego.

Then he’d push down on your abdomen, just where he’d bulge through your sweaty skin, “You feel that? You take me so well, baby..”

And the way you’d cry out in pleasure, weakly trying to push his hand away from pushing down but he’d just chuckle, pushing down harder as the sound of squelching wetness filled the room.

He can’t help it, mid-wank he picks up his phone from his desk, scrolls through his hidden images in his gallery and rewatches the clips he’d take of you moaning and whimpering his name as he played with your clit. He never deleted anything of you.

He panted heavily once he reached his climax, his hands filthy. Shit. He headed to the bathroom connected to his office and cleaned himself up. Was it harassment to touch himself to you.. without permission? I mean it’s not like you knew.. Shit, maybe he fucked up. Nobody will know anyway.

Time ticked by as you worked on the tasks for the rest of the week, diligently typing away on the keys of the laptop and sipping on the frappe you had bought. Whilst Satoru attended his meetings and completed his work in his office. Although, every time he’d walk around the building, he’d always steal glances of you in your office working. And god, you always looked as beautiful as ever to him.

His father, the former CEO, strolls into the building, his presence immediately commanding respect from all the employees as he walks by. He was a tall and dignified man, his presence alone enough to make everyone take notice. Every employee, including you bowed to him, paying respects.

Shit, this must have been the building he would talk about to you in the past. He’d always complain to you how his father wanted him to overtake his business, but he never told you the name of the building. Well, to be fair, you never asked. And now here you are, working as a corporate slave for your ex boyfriend of a dick.

“It's nice to see you again, y/n.” He says to you, standing before your desk, probably confused.

“Ah... you too sir.”

“I wasn't expecting to see you working here, it's been a while.” His tone was gentle, but there was an undertone of curiosity and concern in his voice.

You nod and offer an awkward smile, “Yeah... I didn't know Satoru was the CEO of this building.”

“Yes, he took over as CEO two months after you both... ended.” He pauses for a moment before speaking again, his tone slightly wary. “And you're working as his secretary now...?” He questioned, looking around the office.

Oh fuck, embarrassing. It sounds as if you’re desperate to be seen by Satoru. “Yes. I am.”

He nods again, his expression still neutral as he continues to observe you, “I see...”

Awkward as fuck. Not because he’s Satoru’s father, you and his family had a good relationship when you were dating. It’s more awkward that your specifically working for his son now.

“How are things between you and Satoru? You two are on... good terms?”

“...I guess.” You fiddle with your hands slightly, wanting to let out a long, deep sigh.

“You guess...?” He lets out a small sigh and continues, his tone slightly gentler this time. “Are you getting along with Satoru fine? No... issues, or arguments?”

“No, not at all sir. We’re okay now.” True, you aren’t. It’s more boring talk. But maybe it’s because you haven’t lashed out on him yet.

He studies your face as you speak, trying to read your expression. He can tell you're not being completely honest, but your words are spoken in a polite and professional tone. “I see..”

“So are you... enjoying working here? You're not feeling uncomfortable or anything?”

“No not at all, it's good working here. The building is amazing.”

“I'm glad to hear that. The building is quite impressive, isn't it? And I hope Satoru isn't... giving you too much work to do?”

You chuckle in response,”Well, I am working on tasks for next week so..”

“Ah, I see. So he’s already making you work ahead of time..”

As his father leaves your office, he makes his way to Satoru’s office, his eyes narrowing slightly as he sees him lazing around in his chair.

“Satoru...” His voice is a low, almost a disapproving grumble as he enters the room, closing the door behind him.

Satoru, hearing his father's voice, looks up with a slight expression of annoyance on his face. “Ugh... what is it?”

He lazily spins around in his chair, his body language oozing nonchalance and boredom.

His father doesn't look amused as he walks up to his son’s desk, a stern expression on his face. “We need to talk.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his gaze fixed on Satoru as he continues. “I was just in your secretary's office, and you know who I saw?”

He raises an eyebrow at his father's words, a mixture of annoyance in his eyes. “Y/n?” He says in a bored tone, as if he's already expecting some sort of lecture from his father.

“Yes, why?”

“Oh, yeah. I hired her.” He responds casually, as if it’s normal to have your ex girlfriend work for you.

His father lets out a sigh, his expression becoming more agitated. “Anyway, you need to get married soon. You're already 28.”

Satoru groans and rolls his eyes at his father's words. He's heard this lecture from his father numerous times, and it always irritates him. “You're still on about that?”

His father remains stern and insistent, his arms crossed over his chest. “Yes, I am. You're at the age where you should be looking for a suitable partner. You can't just keep playing around forever and hooking up with random whores. It's time for you to settle down.”

Satoru lets out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Ugh, can we not have this conversation right now? I'm busy.”

His father's expression hardens even more at his dismissive attitude. “No, we're having this conversation now. And you're not going to use the ‘I'm busy' excuse this time. You've been putting this off for far too long, Satoru. It's embarrassing to have a son who has sex with prostitutes. You need a wife to put you in your place. You need to have kids so you remain a good man.”

Satoru's eyes narrow at his father's words. He knew it was pointless to argue at this point, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of irritation at being lectured like a child.

“And who do you expect me to marry? Do you have someone in mind?”

“Well, if you're asking for my opinion, yes I do have someone in mind. But knowing how stubborn you are, you're probably not going to like it.”

He raises an eyebrow again at his father's words, curious. He lets out a sigh, resigned to having this conversation. “Fine, spit it out. Who is it?”

His father takes a deep breath, bracing himself for Satoru's reaction. He knows what he's about to say will probably not go over well with him.

“Even though she’s your ex now.. y/n. She's a good girl and she comes from a respectable background and we liked her. You two were together for a while. Who better knows you? She'd be able to keep you in line. You're still hung up on her anyway, just stop fucking around and treat her well, then she'll be happy with you.”

His face immediately darkens at his father's words, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “You can't be serious. You actually want me to marry y/n?”

His father lets out a small chuckle at Satoru's protest, not taking his words seriously at all. He's clearly amused by his son's denial. “Oh please, I know you're still into her. And she doesn't hate you, she's just mad at you because you messed up. And her boyfriend? Pfft, I saw him, he's a pathetic waste of space. She deserves someone better, someone like you. Just stop being a coward and admit you still like her.”

He lets out a scoff at his father's words. He can't believe his father is talking about y/n like this, as if he knows better than him. It's pissing him off, even though he’s right.

“You're seriously overstepping your boundaries, old man. I'm not a damn teenager who can't make decisions for themselves. I'm the CEO of this company, and I have a private life. No, I'm not marrying y/n. It's not happening.”

“You're acting like a child, Satoru. And don't give me that CEO bullshit, it won't work on me. You're still my son and I'm still your father, and I'm telling you to marry her. End of story. I'll arrange the marriage even if I have to force it, I'll get y/n to agree.”

Satoru's jaw clenches, his patience reaching its limit. He can feel anger coursing through him, and he has to force himself to stay calm. “You'll what? Arrange a marriage?! Dad, you're out of your damn mind. You know damn well y/n and I didn't end on good terms. We were constantly at each other's throats, it was a disaster. And forcing her to marry me? That's insane.”

His father scoffs, “Who else would you marry?”

“Anyone but y/n. Literally anyone. I’ll marry a stranger, I don't care. Just don’t push y/n onto me.” Satoru's voice is firm and unrelenting, but there's a hint of desperation in his eyes as he stares at his father.

His father lets out a frustrated sigh, seeing that his son is in no mood to listen to reason. He takes a deep breath and tries a different approach. “Alright then. I'll have a few respectable women, or girls your mother and I know come over to the family estate. They'll talk to you and you talk to them. Then come to me and tell me which one you prefer. Deal?”

Satoru’s expression softens slightly, his anger slowly subsiding. He doesn't like the idea of being set up with women he's never met, but it's better than being forced to marry his ex. “... Fine. But I'm not promising anything.”

His father smiles slightly, glad that he's finally getting through to Satoru. If he doesn’t prefer any of them, then he’ll definitely arrange you both. But he won’t mention that yet.

“Good. I'll arrange it then. And I better see you talking properly to these girls, got it? No snide comments or sarcasm. Just behave well. Don't embarrass me son.”

He rolls his eyes but nods reluctantly. “Yeah, yeah I'll be on my best behaviour. Don't worry.” He mutters, still not thrilled about the entire situation of marriage.

“Today, tomorrow, next week? When?”

“Next week. This coming Saturday. I'll have them head to your study room in the estate, not your apartment, so make sure you come over in the morning. Be ready.”

Satoru nods again, resigned to his fate. He knows his father is not backing down. “Alright, I'll be there.. Whatever.”

The next day, Satoru is bored in his office, idly scrolling through his social media feeds when he receives an email from you. He opens it up and reads through his schedule for the day, letting out a small sigh.

It's then that he suddenly remembers the conversation between him and his father, and the arrangement to bring the women over to their estate next week. He groans inwardly, not looking forward to it at all.

He could just do as his father's says and marry you instead. but you're his ex and you hate him because he's apparently toxic. and he doesn't even like you anymore since you became so bratty. At least, that what he tells himself.

As his thoughts swirl through his head, an idea starts to form. He glances at the door to his office, considering it for a moment. then he calls out to you through the phone speaker. “Hey, come in here for a moment.”

You hear his voice over the alert system in your office room and head over, once inside you speak, “Is something the matter?”

He motions for you to close the door behind you and sit down. “No, everything's fine. Just sit down.”

He waits for you to sit down on the chair opposite him, his eyes studying your face as you do so. He's not sure how you're going to react to what he's about to say.

“I need to ask you something. And I want you to be completely honest with me.”

Okay, you can do that.

He leans forward slightly, his hands resting on the desk in front of him as he looks you in the eye. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

You respond immediately, “No.” Did he expect you to be open considering our history? What an idiot.

He chuckles as he looks down, “Damn, you're still as bratty as ever.”

He leans back in his chair and looks at you again. “You still hate me, huh?”

You stare back at him, a bored expression on your face, “Obviously.” You hated his guts and he knows that.

“Yeah, I figured. We did end on bad terms after all, didn't we?” He speaks with a hint of arrogant irritation in his voice.

You sigh before you speak, “What do you want?”

He leans forward again, resting his elbows on the desk and entwining his fingers in front of him. His gaze is steady and intense as he looks at you. “I need you to listen closely to what I'm about to say and try to keep an open mind. Can you do that?”

“What?”

Inhaling deeply, he prepares himself for your reaction. He knows this is going to be a difficult conversation. But he should at least ask before closing off the option.

“I'm going to ask you something... a little... hm. I don't know what's the word but, don't get all mad at me. It's just an offer from my father. it's not that I want to but I'm just letting you know.”

You groan in irritation at him, “Okay, so what is it?” He’s taking too long and you’re becoming impatient.

He almost chuckles at the frustration on your face. But he knows better than to make any dumb comments if he wants to even have a chance to explain himself.

“Alright, alright. I'll get to the point.” He clears his throat, preparing himself for your reaction. “My father wants me to get married. He gave me the first option to marry you but I denied it because, well I thought you'd say no anyway. So instead he arranged some women for me to meet next week at our estate.”

“Okay? What do you want me to do about that?”

He sighs, “You're really making it difficult for me to talk to you." He rubs his temple with his fingers, getting annoyed with your stubbornness. “Alright, I'm just gonna say it then.”

He takes a deep breath and looks at you straight in the eye. “I'm gonna ask you again. Do you still hate me, yes or no?”

“Yes. I hate you.”

“You really are damn stubborn, you know that?” He sits back in his chair, studying your face for any signs of weakness or doubt. But your expression remains icy and impenetrable, just like it always was before you broke up with him..

He leans forward again, his gaze never leaving your face. “Fine, you hate me. But that's not the question I'm asking.”

But that was the question he just asked?

“My father was going to arrange our marriage forcibly, but I told him not to because I thought you'd disagree. If you could, would you agree to the marriage?”

You contemplate for a moment, would you? You hate him, you can’t trust him anymore. Not when he cheated with some random prostitute. “It depends.”

He quirked an eyebrow at your answer, intrigued and slightly amused that you're actually considering the possibility. “Depends on what?”

“Money.” You say blankly. Hypothetically, at least. You weren’t being serious but if it were to happen you’d marry him for money. Because only money could make you get back with a cheating ex like Satoru.

He scoff at your response. It's so typical of you to think of the financial aspect first. But he doesn't seem too surprised. “Oh, you're such a greedy little gold digger. I'd be paying you to be married to me, huh?”

“What's the problem with that? I have money and come from wealth too, it’s only obvious I’d still want more. If I married you I’d want to be paid weekly.”

You watch him shake his head and chuckle, both amused and annoyed at your audacity. He never expected you to actually admit to being a gold digger so shamelessly. “Damn. You really have no shame, do you?”

He looks at you as he considers your proposition for a moment, “Weekly payments, huh? How much are you thinking?”

“Hm. To get married to you and leave my boyfriend... £100k to get married to you, then £2k weekly sent to my bank. I'm only saying that because it's not gonna happen.” You say the last sentence firmly, standing your ground as you glare at him from your seat.

He grins at the ridiculously bold request, “£100k to marry me? And £2k weekly? You're really trying to milk me for everything I've got, huh? You're fuckin’ expensive.”

“Those are reasonable offers if your rich. You have the money to give that.”

He can't deny that you're right. Though he finds your demands amusing and frustrating at the same time. "You really have no shame to ask for that much money, don't you?” He mutters under his breath.

“And why do you want £2k weekly? wouldn't I be providing you with everything as your husband?”

Ugh, he’s asking as if I’d ever accept him as my husband.

“What do you plan to do with the £2k weekly payments?”

“For myself, obviously. You’re questioning me as if it'd actually happen. I'm not marrying you.” You chuckle as you speak. “Was just answering your question from before.”

“I know you're not gonna marry me, it's just a damn hypothetical question.” he mutters, his voice edged with frustration. “But I'm asking why you'd want that much money for yourself?”

“Why wouldn't I? Plus If I had left over money, l'd pass it down to my children for inheritance.”

“Of course you're thinking about inheritance for your children,” he says in a sarcastic tone. “You know, most people get married for love, not just for money.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn't be marrying you for love, it'd be forced if ur father went through with it for real. Anyway, good luck to the women you're meeting next week. I have work to do and this conversation is annoying. I'll be taking my leave.”

He eyes you as you stand up and head toward the door, slightly annoyed and amused at the same time by your bluntness. “Right, right," he mutters, leaning back in his chair again. “Run off to do your work. Maybe you'll find another guy to milk for money while you’re at it.”

You roll your eyes and scoff as you exit the room, shutting the door behind you.

He lets out a long, heavy sigh and runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head at the crazy idea that he even considered discussing the possibility of marriage with you. “Damn it...” he mutters to himself, “What the hell am I thinking... Tch. annoying bitch.”

Saturday finally rolls around, and Satoru finds himself sitting in his family's grand estate, waiting for the women his father had invited. He's sitting in his study room, tapping his fingers on the armrest of the couch with growing irritation. He still dreads the idea of having to meet all these women, especially after the conversation he had with you a few days before.

Hours passed by, but to no surprise, all the women were either bratty, annoying, clingy, boring or ugly. He heads to his fathers study room, his frustration growing with each step.

He had hoped at least one of the women would pique his interest, but they were all lacking in one way or another. Finally, he reaches his father's study room and knocks on the door. He waits a moment before hearing his father call out from inside, “Come in.” A small smirk playing on his father face.

He steps into the room seeing his father sat smoking a cigarette, his expression a mix of irritation and disappointment. As if he knew that you wouldn’t like any the women. He closes the door behind him and stands in front of his father's desk, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Judging by your face, I'm guessing the meetings didn't go well?”

Satoru lets out a heavy sigh “You could say that. None of the women you picked out were my type. Honestly, they were all damn awful to be honest.”

His father lets out a small chuckle at Satoru's blunt assessment. He leans back in his chair and looks at his son “I see. Well, I guess that's expected, given your picky taste in women. So marry y/n. I'll arrange it.”

His eyes widened at his father's words. He hadn't expected him to bring up your name again so casually.

“What? Wait, hang on I told you we shouldn’t-“

Cutting him off, his father waves his hand dismissively. “I know what you said, but you didn't find anyone suitable so there’s no other option.. You're not that old, but you should start thinking about your future. I'm tired of you always spending your time with prostitutes. Y/n’s a good girl, and she's from a good family that I know well. It's the perfect match.”

“That's bullshit, I don't care if she’s a 'good girl' we don’t like each other anymore, and you know that.”

“You can't just rely on picking women based on your taste. You have to consider the bigger picture, Satoru. Y/n is from a wealthy family, and a good partner for the future. You can't just dismiss her because you don’t like her. You have to think about how this will benefit you and your future. And don't lie to me, you loved her until you both started arguing constantly because of your behaviour. Fix yourself up. I'll speak to her and arrange the marriage, I'm good at persuading.”

Satoru clenches his fists, trying to keep his cool “Damn it...I can't just agree to marry her because it's convenient. What about my own feelings and preferences? I don't care if she's from a wealthy family or a 'good partner for the future.' I'm not some damn chess piece in your grand plan. Why the hell can't you just leave me alone about this? I don't want to be stuck down to one women I like my fucking prostitutes and why does that even bother you?! The public don't even know.”

His father slams his hand on the desk, his patience wearing thin at Satoru’s vulgar and immature words.

“Enough nonsense, Satoru! I'm tired of your selfish attitude. You're not a child anymore, you're 28 years old, it's time you start acting like an adult. Marriage is not just about your feelings, it's about responsibility, legacy and power. Y/n’s family status and background will bring stability benefits that will outweigh your damn personal preferences. I don't care how many damn prostitutes you sleep with, you're marrying y/n.”

“I've already spoken to her, I gave her a hypothetical question, and you want to know what she said?”

His father looks slightly surprised at his words, but he quickly regains his composure “And what did she say?”

“She said, if she did marry me it would be for money.”

His voice is laced with frustration and anger as he crosses his arms, his glare fixed on his father.

“She was only interested in the damn money. Nothing else. Told me if you forced her to marry me, she'd only go ahead with it if she was pre-paid £100k and then paid a further £2k by me weekly. then she said she's only saying that because it'd never happen and she won't marry me.”

His father's expression remains neutral, “What's so bad about that? We have wealth and so does she. it's only normal for her to want more, especially if your her ex. I don’t blame her.”

His anger reaches a boiling point at his father's nonchalant response. He leans forward, his eyes blazing with frustration, “You're goddamn right she's my ex. And that should be enough reason for you not to try to force me to marry her against my will.”

He runs a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down, but his frustration is evident in his every movement.

His father leans back in his chair, his expression still calm, “Listen, I understand that you have your reasons for not wanting to marry her. But you have to understand that I'm only thinking about what's best for you. She comes from a wealthy family, and she shares similar values to ours. She'd be a valuable addition to our family, and I'm sure you'd be able to find happiness with her if you stopped your toxic behaviour.”

Satoru's jaw clenches as he listens to his father's words. He can't believe that his father is still pushing this idea, despite his objections. “You just don't get it, do you? It's not just about your stupid values and wealth. I have my own life, my own preferences, my own damn desires.”

He shakes his head, feeling a mixture of anger and frustration. “You can't force me to marry someone, my ex, just because it's convenient for you or our family reputation.”

“Satoru, stop being so goddamn egotistical. This isn't just about pleasing me or our ideals. It's about doing what's right for your future. And let's be honest, your current lifestyle isn't exactly sustainable in the long run. You need a partner who understands and respects you, whom you can share your life with. And someone who can keep you in check. Leave my room. I'll arrange you and y/n. That's the end of it.”

“Ugh, fine! but don't expect me to treat her like a goddess wife.” He was tired of these lectures, tired of his futile defensive arguments.

“Trust me, after spending a few days with her as your wife, you'll come to appreciate her, she was always a good daughter figure when she’d visit whilst you dated.”

He leans back in his chair, folding his hands “And I expect you to be on your best behaviour. No more womanising or hookups, got it?”

He rolls his eyes, feeling frustrated but also resigned to the situation “Yeah, yeah, I got it. No more women, no more hookups. You want me to be a damn saint, I'll be a saint.”

A day later, his father calls me, telling me to visit their estate and that he has something important to discuss with me. I head over and enter the family estate, a butler leading me to his fathers study room. Am I going to get fired already? No.. if I were to be getting fired I’d be called to Satoru’s office.

Satoru sits in his father's room, staring out the window as his father sits beside him. His thoughts still swirl with anger and frustration but he knows he has no choice to argue with his father.

Suddenly, his father's butler knocks on the door and enters the room. “Excuse me. Miss l/n is here saying that you called for her?” He steps aside, revealing you standing in the doorway.

“Hello..”

His father stands up and smiles at you warmly

“Ah, y/n, please come in. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

I enter the room, closing the door behind me and glance at satoru confused, his expression neutral, only with slightly furrowed brows. Then I returned my gaze back onto his father.

His father gestures for you to take a seat across from him and Satoru. “Please, have a seat. There's something important we need to discuss with you.”

After taking your seat, His father leans forward, his tone serious “Y/n, I've called you here because Satoru and I have had a chat recently. And we both agreed that it would be beneficial for all of us if you and Satoru were to get married.”

Oh god, he can’t be serious. “Mr. Go-“

His father continues, ignoring your reaction

“I understand that this might come as a surprise, but hear me out. Satoru needs a partner who can help him grow and mature. And I believe that you are the perfect candidate for that. You come from a good family and have a strong sense of responsibility. You can provide the stability and guidance that Satoru desperately needs.”

“I... thank you for the offer but I-“

His father holds up a hand, stopping you from protesting further “You'll be given the money you want. £100k beforehand and £2k weekly by this idiot here, right?”

You part your lips slightly and your breath catches in your dry throat. You weren’t being serious with that amount, simply stating it because you didn't expect it to happen. You wave your hands in protest as you smile awkwardly “No, No I-“

His father raises an eyebrow, clearly sceptical of your protest, “You were the one who suggested the money. Don't try to back out of it now. I’m offering a significant amount of financial security. Not to mention, being married to Satoru would mean a life of luxury and comfort.”

Satoru, who had been silent until now, finally speaks up. He leans back in his chair, a mix of irritation and resignation in his voice. “Just take the damn deal, y/n.”

“Tch, don't tell me what to do.”

“Why are you being so difficult? we're offering you a once in a lifetime opportunity here. You'd be a fool to reject it.”

You roll your eyes, looking away and sighing. He's right, but it would be hell for you. Get back with the ex who cheated on you with a prostitute..? It’s crazy.

His father clasps his hands together, sensing that you're starting to give in, “If that's not enough, £200k beforehand, £3k weekly.”

“You're serious...? About this?”

“Absolutely. I've already spoken to your parents and they agreed, but do you?”

Satoru watches you intently, waiting for your answer. He's starting to feel a sense of annoyance at your hesitancy, but he tries to hide it.

His father leans forward, “Y/n, you won't have to work another day.”

"You'll have access to the best of everything, a life of luxury, and you'll be a part of a high-profile family. Think about it, you'll never have to worry about money or anything again."

“I mean I already don't... have to worry…” You’re starting to give in. Oh god this can’t be good.

“Yes, but the offer is still there. You'd have more. You know our family is #1 wealthiest in Japan, your family is #50 wealthy. Think about it.”

Satoru can't contain himself anymore, he leans forward, his irritation evident in his voice “Damn it, you're being stubborn for no reason. Just take the deal already.”

You scowl at his words and tone, giving a dirt as you furrow your brows.

Sator glares right back, his irritation at your defiant attitude growing.

“Just take the fucking deal you love money anyway!”

“Fine!” I yell back with a frustrated groan.

His father lets out a satisfied exhale, a small smile on his face.

“Excellent. I'm glad you came to your senses.”

Satoru leans back, a mix of frustration and resignation on his face. “Finally, you gave in.”

His father’s tone became more serious as he speaks, “Now that that's settled, there are a few conditions that we need to discuss.”

He pauses, looking at Satoru, “First, Satoru. You will not contact any of your former lovers or hookups. The public and our family would look down on that. You must maintain a clean image as a couple.”

You scoff a laugh. “Tch. Of course you had prostitutes right after I left you.” He really was a damn sex freak. You can’t believe he didn’t catch on to the fact you knew he cheated on you. What a dickhead.

He rolls his eyes, feeling a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment at being called out on his behavior.

“Yeah, I did. So what? I had em before you and had em after.”

The audacity for him to blatantly admit such a disgusting thing makes you stare at him in both disbelief and disgust. You hid it well, but it did hurt you. It was like as if he poured acid onto your heart.

His father shakes his head, his disapproval evident

“Satoru that's exactly the type of behaviour that needs to change, immediately. You are a part of a powerful family, and your actions reflect on us all. No more of that immature behaviour.”

He rolls his eyes as he leans back on his seat, looking away, “Yeah, I know.”

“Second, y/n, you will be expected to support Sator in every way possible. This means attending family events and public appearances with him, offering him emotional support, and generally acting as a supportive partner.”

“Of course that's basic stuff, I can do that.” You respond softly, and maturely.

“Good, I'm glad you understand.” He clears his throat,“Onto the third condition. This is the most important one.

His voice takes a firm, serious tone “It involves the matter of heirs. You'll be expected to have children within the next 2 years of the marriage. Ideally, a son and a daughter.”

You should have expected that as a condition too.

“This is non-negotiable. We want to ensure the continuing of our family line, and we expect you two to fulfil your duty.”

I smirk slightly as I look down at my lap, “Do I get paid for pregnancy too?” I ask sarcastically.

"Actually, yes. You'll receive an extra £80k for each pregnancy, and £150k for giving birth.”

Your breath hitches once more, he can’t be serious.. “What?” That amount is far too ridiculously huge, even for you.

His father smiles slightly, seeing your surprise. "That's correct. We understand that pregnancy can be a difficult and exhausting experience, both physically and mentally. That's why we're willing to offer additional compensation as a token of our appreciation for your efforts in continuing our bloodline."

“Wait I was just joking-“

His father chuckles slightly, dismissing your protest.“Oh, I know you were joking, but we take this seriously. The compensation is non-negotiable. We want to ensure that you and Satoru have all the support and resources you need to start a family.”

“But that’s not necessary I promis-“

“It is necessary. He’s our only child, it’s only right that we gift his wife and mother of his children. And you’ll be keeping him in check from his…. Behaviours.”

To think you’re actually agreeing to this is mental. If you were to speak to yourself a week ago you’d be laughing hysterically.

“Right.. right. Next two years..”

“Yes, within the next 2 years. We want to ensure that the family line is continued in a timely manner.”

Satoru remains mostly silent in his seat, a hint of irritation in his expression at the conversation's direction.

His father continues, a stern tone in his voice, “It's not solely your responsibility dear, of course. Satoru will also be expected to play an active role in the child-rearing process, but you will be the main caregiver and nurturer.”

I mean, it’s not so bad. But it’s Gojo Satoru who will be your husband and father of your children. What if he just cheated again? How does his father expect you to keep him in line?

He looks back and forth between you and Satoru

"You both will work together to raise your children, providing them with the love, care, and stability that a family should have. It won't be easy, but we believe that you're both capable of it."

Satoru bristles visibly at his father's words. The thought of having children so soon with his bitch of an ex, is far from appealing to him. Yes, he still has a few feelings for you, but not enough to want to be forced with you. Not like this. But he bites back any protest, knowing it's fruitless to argue with his father.

"Also, if you hate each other behind closed doors, expect you both to appear as a loving couple for the public.”

“Yes.. we will.”

"And Satoru, you better stay behaved. We don't want any more scandals that might embarrass the family's name.

You're lucky they haven't seen you with those whores you've met."

He grits his teeth at his father's comment, feeling a mixture of anger and embarrassment at his indiscretions being brought up time and time again. "I already told you, I'll stop those hookups. There's no need to constantly bring it up."

"I'll believe it when I see it. Just remember, your actions reflect on this family.”

His gaze shifts back to you.

"And y/n, I know you’ll keep Satoru in line. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

“I will.”

"Good. I have faith in you to keep Satoru in check."

His expression suddenly turns serious again.

“One more thing, both of you. Absolutely no infidelity after marriage. I expect absolute loyalty from both of you.”

“Say that to him not me” I mutter, rolling my eyes towards Satoru’s direction.

Satoru clicks his tongue at your words.

His father sighs, directing his gaze at Satoru. “Satoru, I expect complete loyalty from now on. No more flings or hookups with anyone else. Your marriage is solely with y/n now.”

Satoru scowls at his father's words but doesn't argue. He knows that resisting is pointless. He turns his gaze to you, his expression a mixture of irritation and resignation. “I understand.”

[jensthwa]

mountebank chem pt. two (JYH x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

* 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤: 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲. The first time you met Yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. You didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and Jeong Yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. Is that reason enough to hate his guts? Well, of course! Now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? And, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

PAIRING: rich!yunho x rich!reader.

GENRE: enemies to friends to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 14k (i'm so sorry).

WARNINGS: eventual SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, crying, mentions of drinking and drunk behavior, mature language, petty behavior, insults, hwang hyunjin and hwang yeji cameos omg, yunho being a misunderstood puppy i fear, yunho and reader really hate each other but not so much anymore, pet names (princess), negative mentions of body image, mention of panic attacks/panic disorder, no smut on this part but so, so, so much tension oh god these two idiots.

NOTES: hi everyone! so, sorry for almost taking a month to finish the next part of this mini series that is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE. there's mentions of the last installment plot so, if you're new around here, you can always find the rest of the stories on my masterist! i also forgot to mention before that gunho is older in this universe bc i think he's younger than yunho irl?? i'm not sure bc i don't look into their families like that lmao. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: october 12th 2024.

masterlist - part one - part three.

Yunho has never been more stressed in his entire life. 

It's easy to tell and it's an issue for you. When it's evident someone is not comfortable, that's when the vipers get together and organize their attacks. 

And right now, he's your date for the night, so you can't really let that happen. 

The gala is breathtaking, as expected. The room is lit with fairy lights all around the roof and they mimic stars. It's the theme of the night and the beautiful dresses and suits everyone is wearing it's enough to let you know both your mother and Yunho’s mom kindly threaten everyone to follow their delusions as well. 

It looks like a very expensive prom and it's pretty but you hate it. Maybe because of the overall situation you went through today or your lack of sleep but you hate it. 

Or maybe it's the amount of eyes you have on you tonight. Twice the usual amount, if the warmth on the back of your neck is any indication of how much people are gossiping about you and Yunho right now. 

When you walked in half an hour ago, Yunho on your arm, everyone went silent as you said your hellos and went to your assigned seats. 

And then the murmurs started to fill the room slowly until they became unbearable and, eventually, you started to acclimate to them, like you always do. 

Yunho is a completely different story. It shows that he's not used to this, the fidgeting of his feet and his leg going up and down and bouncing the table cloth on both his and your leg triggers something that only causes further annoyance.

You're seated (just the two of you, because your brother and his are at a completely different table for some reason) at one of the main tables, near the stage where a talented kid who, you're sure, is the son of one of your father's friends, is playing the violin beautifully and you can't even focus on that because Yunho keeps sighing like he doesn't want to be here. 

Now, you know he must definitely would rather be doing anything else but, like you told him before, he agreed to this so he has to start fucking owning it. 

Leaning in, you curl your lips up in feign sweetness and discreetly place your hand over his leg “You need to stop that before someone notices it.” 

Head snapping back at you, he leans in as well and blinks a few times “How would anyone not—”

“They will,” you assure him, smile never leaving your lips and you hear as the people around you start to clap their hands for the end of the performance “Now clap and hold your breath because my mother has been itching to get on that stage.” 

Leaning back, you get to clap for a few seconds before the commotion dies down and then, just as you predicted, your mom gets on the stage. 

You don't even turn to see Yunho’s reaction at all but you do hear him clapping for your mom once everyone starts clapping too. 

“What an spectacular opening act that was,” she points to the various musicians that filled that half hour of snobbery and you try to repress how much you want to cringe at that. Your mother never really cared for the arts at all “I want to thank you all for attending…” 

Her voice fades into the background as you zone out, like you always do. The way of coping with the long, long events you're forced to attend to has always been zoning out and letting your body do the work for you. 

You clap, you smile, you bow and react accordingly like a robot that has been programmed to do so. Like an extra in a movie who gains the attention of the audience because someone always comments on your appearance, your posture or a specific expression you made at a random moment of the evening. 

Magazines, papers and social media users who don't have anything better to do are always that audience you strike to appeal to. That has always been your job, that's why your mom is using you to try and restore the image of Jeong Tech, too. 

The people outside of the tinsel circle love you, the people inside of it pretend to love you and everyone gets their end of the deal at your expense. 

You feel kind of bad that Yunho got to experience life outside of it and now it's being dragged by his mother to the eye of the hurricane, where everything it's mostly silent until it's not. There’s this question on the tip of your tongue, this curiosity nagging at you since earlier today. 

After witnessing the hurt on his face and the indifference to his feelings displayed by his mother, you can only come to the conclusion you got their relationship wrong all these years. 

The safe detachment you felt for him is suddenly teetering the dangerous line of interest you’ve always drawn in between you and it’s enough for you to feel bad when you turn to see him and catch him forcing a soft smile that, to everyone else, might seem genuine. 

But you know him better than that. At least, you know his mannerisms well enough to not be fooled by it. Even if you didn’t know his true feelings about tonight, about what’s about to happen now that you hear your mother utter your dad’s name to introduce him and bring him to the podium, you wouldn’t be fooled by it. 

There’s another round of applause for your father that you barely follow because, you suddenly notice, you’ve been a little too entranced by Yunho for a few seconds too long. Turning to the man who’s partly responsible for your headache tonight, you catch his speech exactly where you’re supposed to. 

“... And thanks to them, we’re positioned in a place where we can help new companies navigate and grow in a market that’s typically eager to chew and spit them out. When I first came up with the idea of Kim Innovation, there was one man who stood beside me as I presented it to the board. My best friend and someone who, barely a few years later, came up with the idea of revolutionizing the tech industry as a whole, please welcome…” 

Sometimes, you wonder if your dad loves Yunho’s dad more than he ever loved you, your brother or your mom. Turning to Soohyun, he sends you a smile and a look that hints to you that he’s probably thinking the same thing. It takes a lot for you to not giggle but the smile that curves the corners of your lips is somewhat genuine for the first time since you sat down. 

Hell, for the first time today. 

There’s cheers on a closeby table and you don’t have to turn to know it’s Yunho’s mom. She might truly love that man, which is a lot considering they did to her what she’s doing to her son. 

Arranged and married off. You never considered actually falling in love before but falling in love with the man who was cherry picked for you sounds like an actual nightmare. 

Thank God that’s not a possibility when it comes to Yunho. 

Again, your selective hearing works wonders because you are able to straighten your spine and prepare for the part of the speech that actually matters to you: “... And now we’re even blessed with the chances of our family remaining bonded forever. I’m sure you all noticed our youngest walking in together, huh?” The room makes an amused noise and you shake your head at your dad, pretending to be playfully ashamed by the call out “It’s impossible not to when they look so good together. We wanted to let everyone know tonight instead of announcing it through a notice or the press. But I'm blessed to call Jeong Yunho, the future of blockchain engineering and cybersecurity at Jeong Tech, my son in law. Yunho, you have always been like a son to me, so I trust you to take care of my dear daughter’s heart long enough to see my dreams of officially bringing our families together come to life.” 

You want to gag at the thought. You want to cry and scream and beg everyone to see right through this lie but everyone erupts in cheers for the fake relationship you’re officially in so the only thing you can do is force yourself to think about something that makes you blush and turn to Yunho to pretend you’re moved by your father’s words. 

Only to find him already staring at you with the same artificial emotion. There’s an understanding in his eyes that you think might show on yours as well and he hesitates a little before grabbing your hand in his hand over the table, visible for everyone. 

Your heart doesn’t skip a beat, your stomach doesn’t flutter with butterflies but instead drops at the oh’s, ah’s and aw’s you hear around you. When his father takes the microphone from your father’s hands and you’re sure the image of you both is no longer on the screen placed above the stage, you lower your hands under the cloth. 

He squeezes yours before harshly letting go and you open and close your palm to get a grip on yourself so you can endure the rest of the speeches with a smile. 

Your brother and Yunho’s brother take the stage for what it feels like another fifteen minutes and after that they announce that dinner is about to be served in five and to enjoy the rest of the gala and the music and the acts for the rest of the night as they step down, so you take the opportunity to get up. 

Looking at you like a child that’s about to be abandoned at the grocery store line, Yunho gets up as well “Where are you going?” 

“To get a drink,” you return immediately with a kind smile that’s far from honest and lean in a little for only him to hear you “Notice how the only thing they’ve been bringing us is water? That’s my mom’s doing,” taking a few steps into the drink table, you turn to him over your shoulder and speak a little louder this time “Want anything, babe?” 

It looks like it takes a lot from him to not grimace at the nickname and you internally laugh but your fun dies as soon as he takes your hand and pulls you to the table himself “I’m coming with you, there’s an old lady that has been staring at me for the past twenty minutes and I’m scared.” 

Feeling overwhelmed by the sudden physical intimacy you both are displaying, it takes a few bits for you to answer. At the table, you grab a champagne flute and try to have some self control but end up downing half in one gulp “Ah, grandma Park. You might know her granddaughter Sooyoung,” looking at him, he stops sipping at the own flute he got ahold of and shakes his head. You sigh in disappointment, now that no one is close enough to hear you “Of course you don’t. She’s pretty and one of the only genuine girls I know. I can get you her number after this whole sham is done.”

“Y/N, I don’t want you to play cupid for me. In fact, I don’t want to hear from you once we break up,” he nudges you softly with his arm and the look you send in his direction makes him groan a little. You both know there’s not a chance in hell of that happening but wishful thinking never hurt anyone “You know, I—”

A voice behind you both interrupts him and you close your eyes tightly when you recognize it right away. 

“Well if it isn’t the it couple of the month,” as you turn, the Hwang siblings smile at you with what you can only recognize as mischievous delight. Yeji is exclusively staring at Yunho and Hyunjin’s eyes move from your date to you before he chuckles like he knows something no one else does “I couldn’t say I saw it coming but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless, wasn’t it, Yeji?” 

His sister ignores him. 

“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. I know Y/N, of course, who doesn’t,” she giggles and your smile tenses a bit, so you hide it behind your glass and gulp the other half of the flute down “But we’ve been missing each other a lot, mister Jeong.” 

“It seems like you know him well enough,” you half-heartedly joke and her brother smiles at you with a complicity you don’t really want “Yunho, this is Hwang Yeji and this is her brother, Hwang Hyunjin. I am sure you know their father, he owns HW Records.” 

“Yes, of course. Huge fan of his artists,” he says with such kindness you might actually start to believe him and then he bows a little “It’s a pleasure.” 

“The pleasure is all mine!” Yeji returns brightly and batting her fake lashes. She’s so pretty, you think, but that doesn’t really work in your favor when it’s blatantly obvious she’s flirting with who is supposed to be your boyfriend. 

Yunho notices it too, because his hand moves to your back and he takes a step closer to you. 

Hyunjin’s brow arches a bit as he takes his actions in and then there’s that glint in his eyes, the one you see on mean people when they secure a target to bother for the day. Because that’s exactly what he intends to do “I have to say, Y/N, I didn’t think you had a taste for… Humble men.” 

Without outright saying it, you know he’s challenging you. He’s testing whatever you have with Yunho because he’s a smart, privileged and cunning little shit and, as soon as he sees a crack on the foundation of your lie, he’s going to run his mouth. 

You can’t let that happen. Knowing he suspects something else is going on pisses you off because it means you’re not doing something right and you hate losing. 

Pretending you're confused, you furrow your brows a bit before chuckling “Is that not something to look for in a partner?” 

“I was never expecting you to come public with a relationship in the first place,” he says, hands behind his back and not-so-innocent smile on his lips. Then, he looks Yunho up and down with squinted eyes “But I was certainly not expecting you to come forward with someone who chooses public education over private, for example. Should I take this as a hint that you're furthering your education in a private school, Yunho?” 

He's trying to strike a nerve and you pray Yunho is smart enough to catch him in the act. Turning to him, your smile doesn't waver as you wait for his answer.

Taking a deep breath, he lets it out while he answers, forcing himself to smile “It’s not in my plans, no.” 

“But Y/N did… It just doesn't really make any sense, does it, Yeji?” 

Snapping out of whatever spell Yunho's presence got her in, she shrugs “No, it doesn't. Private schools are better and you don't mingle with people whose connections are useless for your future.” 

Immediately, you can tell that's what their parents told her. An easy way to fool the dummy into perpetuating their status. It's pitiful and, quite honestly, infuriating. 

“Useless for your future,” her brother repeats with a nod “That's an interesting way of putting it, isn't it? Kind, even,” they both nod and you swear your eye twitches a little “Really, Y/N, I have to give it to you. You always end up surprising me one way or another.” 

Yeji joins right after “You have a lot of status, girl! It's really inspiring that you can overlook such a big difference in your relationship,” she says, like she's not trying to jump Yunho’s bones “I'm cheering for you guys!” 

That does it. Is not the blatant classism or the fact that they are deliberately trying to get under your skin but it is the fact that neither of them has any actual indication your relationship with Yunho is fake. Meaning, they're trying to mess with your family intentionally. 

Because you might hate Yunho as much as he hates you but he's still, somewhat, family. 

“The last time I checked Yunho is the son of the owner of one—If not! The best cyber security company in the country,” you start, kind tone slipping right through the cracks and you hope they take it as a I had enough of you making fun of my man instead of what it truly is “A company he's going to work for if he wants to because you got, what?” you turn to Yunho, who's staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face “Two, three badges and one trailblazer award already? For that program you helped develop your second year?” he nods and your smile comes back when you turn to the siblings “And he hasn't even graduated yet! But I'm sure you didn't know that, did you?” 

Yeji blinks like you just spoke in a foreign language and Hyunjin’s smugness has disappeared completely. 

“You didn't know it because he's humble enough to not parade around like he owns the place, which… He kind of does,” it's your turn to shrug before turning around and placing the flute down back on the table “Oh! By the way, Hyunjin, I heard you placed second on that competition last month,” pouting you make a show of truly pretending you're sorry for him “That really shows us that it doesn't really matter if you go to a private music school or that your dad is a great producer, we can't always come on top, hm?” 

It's a petty and middle-schooled argument but you simply don't care. If people target Yunho, they're now targeting you as well.

And you can't stand when people like them try to stomp you to the ground. 

Hyunjin is about to retaliate but you turn to Yunho quickly, a different glint in his eyes now “Dinner is late, isn't it? Well, we better take the opportunity and go for that dance you promised me, babe,” seemingly tongue-tied, he only manages to nod “It was lovely to talk to you two, as usual.” 

When you drag Yunho to the dancefloor, where there's only a few old couples you recognize and he probably doesn't, it feels like you can breathe a little bit more. 

If you're being honest with yourself, you would really like to scream and pierce a hole through a wall with your fist. Your chest isn't heaving but the sensation it normally brings spreads around your body and it takes over as you secure your arms around Yunho’s neck and start swaying to the sound of an… Ed Sheeran cover? You're not really sure, you're not paying that much attention either. 

“I swear I could kill them,” you mutter under your breath and that finally jolts your dance partner back to reality, because he looks at you like he can't believe you defended him and holds your waist softly, at a safe distance, a little unsure on why you brought him to dance “They're so useless, living off their daddy’s money and gloating.” 

Yunho chuckles “I think you might hate them more than me.” 

Squinting your eyes at him, his joke does little to quiet down your anger “Don't be jealous, Yunho, you still hold the first place for most annoying human being in my heart.” 

He doesn't seem to mind the insult “You didn't have to do that.” 

“Do what?” 

“Go off on them because they were trying to bring me down,” he whispers “Or bring me to the dancefloor, either, we could've just walked off, I mean… You're not good at this.” 

“We went to the same ballroom classes, Yunho, we've danced before,” you remind him, rolling your eyes a bit “And I had to defend you because you weren't saying anything back.” 

“Because I don't really care what they think, Y/N,” he explains softly and you gulp as your eyes roam around his face. You prefer when he's screaming at you, insulting you even. This soft, fake mask he puts on whenever he's in public makes you forget who he truly is: the annoying kid who played with worms on your first playdate “And you shouldn't, either. They were clearly trying to pick up a fight.”

“No, they weren't,” you hate that your experience in these types of situations is shining so much but Yunho seems clueless even if he just firsthand experienced what you tend to experience with the circle you move in “They weren't picking a fight, they were trying to catch us in a lie.” 

“How would they know we're lying, Y/N?” he sounds a little exasperated as he steps softly to the beat, moving you with him. 

“Because they know how this world works. Not your world, not your friends' world, but my world.” 

“Your world it's the same exact one as mine,” he counters quickly, getting a little annoyed judging by his tone “There's truly not much of a difference—” 

“I'm glad that at least you got to experience what ninety nine percent of the world's population experiences, Yunho, but you got away from it and forgot everything about what goes on in here,” moving your head carefully, you signal to the gala and the attendees “I need you to remember highschool and everything that you lived there: The falseness, the appearances and the cliques. The importance of money and grades and education, of connections… It all matters here.” 

You shouldn't be instructing him. That's not really part of the deal and, at first, you thought he was faking aloofness out of spite. Now that he seems as confused as a free spirit being trapped in a glass bottle and put out for display, you feel the need to. 

So he doesn't drown you both. 

“Think of it as one big highschool where the wrong decision, the wrong response can get not only you but me and our families into great trouble.”

As the song ends and everyone claps for the performer, he lets out a sigh “I hate this.” 

“It's your life now,” you remind him and that sorry feeling stirs up inside you as well. You're not one to regret decisions but it does sting a little that you didn't fight more for your stance on this fake relationship. It makes you dizzy and so you take a step away from his barely there embrace as you see the food trays start to make an appearance through the doors “I need to go to the bathroom.” 

“I'll go with you.” 

“To the bathroom?” 

“I don't want to—” 

Sighing, you step closer again and bring your hand to his cheek, thumb caressing the skin there roughly and plastic smile on your lips “Go and bother our brothers. I'm not fucking babysitting you, Yunho, you were born first so you're technically older than me.” 

He pouts for a second and you pinch the skin on his cheek condescendingly. When he notices, his jaw clenches and you smile in victory. 

“Witch.” 

“Grown ass baby.” 

You hear him mumble a whatever under his breath when you turn around and head to the bathroom to get yourself together and hopefully get through the rest of the night without any newfound and unnecessary drama. 

Locked in a stall, you make sure to delete all social media apps. With the speech your dad gave tonight, there will be more speculation now than ever. You can already see the headlines and it draws a sigh out of you because, well, you hate the press as much as the next nepotism baby out there but, most importantly, you hate that the media reads your character wrong. 

No, not wrong. The press usually gets the manufactured part of your personality, one that has become a part of you after all these years of perfecting it. People on social media, though? They read you wrong. 

You hate being misinterpreted. Your mom once said that it was a blessing because then the people who actually know who you are will be the ones closest to you. 

And that's yet to be seen. 

If the earlier encounter with the Hwangs gives away anything, is the fact that you don't actually get to be yourself around anyone ever. 

Except your brother. 

And Yunho. 

The thought of Yunho being one of the few people who know you the best brings a shiver down your spine for the second time today. 

Yunho?!

You should consider making actual friends. That's so sad. 

Not sadder than the way you freeze when you stand up and try to reach for the stall lock. Voices echo through the bathroom and it only takes you a quick second to realize who it is. 

“Yeah, I genuinely don't know who the fuck she think she is,” Yeji’s voice is not the sweet, dumb and whiny tone you are unfortunately forced to hear everytime you speak with her and it would startle you more if it weren't for the fact that she's talking shit about you on the phone “And she probably gets to kiss him tonight and every night from here on out. They were dancing together… In matching outfits! Girl, I know,” she complains, groaning a bit “Like I haven't been thirsting over Yunho’s fine ass for years.” 

Wanting to smack some sense into her again, you move your hand on the lock but she goes on with her babbling and that makes you stop again. 

“There’s absolutely no way they'll last. Not privately, at least. Have you seen her lately?” she scoffs and you hear something move, like makeup in a bag and you assume she's reapplying her lip gloss or something because you can barely hear what she says next. 

And you really, really wish you hadn't. 

“She can barely fit in that tight dress, the hair is getting old too. She's bo-ring,” breath getting caught in your throat, you look down on your dress and suddenly you can see on yourself what you normally see on the mirror “I don't know how but I'm totally getting his number tonight and when he gets to know me that's when he'll realize she's nothing but a kind-of-pretty face and money,” she giggles “I have to go back… Yup, love you, bye!” 

Heels clacking against the polished tiles of this pristine bathroom, you listen carefully until the door closes again and let out the shaky breath you've been holding in. 

What's sadder than Hwang fucking Yeji having a friend she can call to gossip in the middle of a function while you don't? 

Hwang fucking Yeji being able to cut through you with her words. 

Getting out of the stall, you make quick work of washing your hands and avoiding the mirror while you do it. You get out, the sound of cutlery softly hitting plates and fine conversation leaking through the main door that leads you back to the gala it's enough to make you gag a little. 

Like actually gag, the smell of food on top of passing by trays makes you gag. There's a waiter to your left with a tray full of champagne flutes, so you stop her with a genuine kind smile and take two from her. Thanking her, you turn to the door again and make sure nobody is looking in your direction. 

You need to get yourself together, so you make your run for it. Passing the main door in a dash, you walk up the stairs that surely would lead you to a room. 

You've been in this venue many times so the halls are familiar and the room you're aiming to is unlocked and with its lights on, like it's been waiting for you to find comfort in the mild emptiness of it. 

There's a big floor to ceiling arched window with white curtains drawn and a sill wide enough to be converted into a reading nook if someone from your circle actually cared to read and not gossip at an event like this. 

There's a table in the middle with a lovely white cloth covering the surface and a vase in the center of it. You never had a favorite flower, but foxtail orchids are beautiful and the pop of color they bring to every space usually brings you some sort of joy before you remember the significance of them. 

Love, beauty and strength. 

Three things you ardently wish you had but seem to lack. 

Luxury is usually attached to the meaning, fertility as well but the main significance of it does nothing but replay Yeji’s words in your head and you can't even enjoy the fucking flowers as you should right now. 

Moving to sit by the window, on its sill and with your back against the white fabric and the glass, you let your eyes close as you try and remind yourself the reason this event took place. Who you are, what you mean to the people downstairs and the duty you have to fulfill tonight all blend together into a big mush of junk inside your head and all you can see it's the flashes of the paparazzis and how awful you're going to look on those goddamn photos. 

Being mugged down by Jeong Yunho of all people. Fucking great. 

Circling back to him, your mind lands on the same thought you had before Yeji barged into the bathroom. Yunho knows you. 

Hell, he might've been your only actual friend. Even for a day, that first playdate in his backyard, but he probably was your first and only friend even if it ended before you two could make proper good memories together. 

That's so sad. 

Again, you should consider making actual friends. But yet again, you have to admit to yourself that there's no one that can understand you better than him and even then… 

He would never get it. He has a solid foundation, a bed he can fall onto at the end of the day, full with love, comprehension and genuine laughter, probably. 

You've been giving him shit all day for forgetting the world he was born into but now, as you take in a wannabe calming breath and then sip the sorrows away, you kind of wish you two would get along. 

Would he introduce you to his friends if you two actually liked each other? Not romantically, of course (because that's never going to happen), but would he, if you two were friends to begin with? Would you be accepted into their group? Would they make you feel an ounce loved and supported? Is that what Yunho feels when he's with them? 

What do they make him feel, exactly? 

“Ugh.” 

The alcohol is making you sappy instead of angrier. You should be angry. That's the only way of facing things here, in the real world, in the one you actually belong to. Instead, you just feel sad. 

You take a second to wonder again how he must be feeling right now. Leaving him all alone, you hope he at least got the sense in him to attach himself to his brother's hip or yours so someone can stop the vipers from getting to him and his pride. 

You know how easy it is to get his ego hurt by something so silly as insulting his choice of lifestyle, his detachment from this (to them) superior whirlwind of falseness and money. 

But, yet again, he didn't even attempt to defend himself earlier. It's conflicting and it confuses you a bit because… Why didn't that side of Yunho come out? The one who's so eager to back his choices up, the one who yelled at his mother back in your living room? 

Does he really don't care at all what people think of him? 

Must be a blessing, to have that side of you quiet and locked away. You don't have the same luck as him because, even now, as you chug the first flute down in an attempt to silence Yeji’s voice and drown out her words in your head, you know you care. 

You care, you care, you care. 

You care so much you try to hide the champagne behind the curtain when you hear footsteps approaching and the doorknob turns, heartbeat picking up because you definitely don't want to see your mother, your father, your brother or anyone right now. 

Only to reveal the current subject of your obsessive mind, with a plate on his hand and his eyebrows furrowed before his eyes focus on your form hiding behind the table. He's tall enough to see you all the way from the door (of course he is) and your shoulders deflate as you pull your drinks from behind their white haven. 

“Ah, it's just you.” 

He closes the door behind him, scoffing and pointing at the second glass next to you “Were you expecting someone?” 

“The grim reaper, maybe.” 

“My mom? Your mom?” He asks and it's funny but you don't laugh “Well, she's looking for you.” 

You straighten your back at that and take a gulp out of your flute “I've been gone ten minutes, what could possibly be so important for her to be looking for me?” 

“Something about a picture with the governor's grandson?” he shrugs “I didn't pay attention to her, I was fixing you a plate.” 

He offers the food and you sigh, shaking your head to reject his seemingly nice action. 

“And why would you do that?” He looks annoyed when your eyes scan his form and then he uses his chin to point towards the cup next to you and then the one that you elegantly raise to your lips before emptying it. 

“Is that your second or third? I don't remember how many you had at the main table earlier.” 

“I can handle my alcohol pretty well, Jeong.” 

Walking towards you, you take the hint and put the empty flute down on the floor, taking the second one and creating some space for him on the sill “Still, you should eat something.” 

“I’m not particularly hungry right now.” 

“Still…” He offers the plate again and you glance at the food in it. It’s some brown rice and chicken with steamed vegetables. It smells delicious but instead of desiring it, your physical reaction is to swallow a gag. 

“I'm good.” 

Scooting a little more to create more space in between you, you close your eyes again and gather some patience because the sigh he lets out tells you you're going to need it. 

Nothing happens. He doesn't say anything but you do hear the clanking on the fork against the plate and peel your eyes open so you can catch him eating the food that was supposed to be for you through the corner of your eye. 

It's always entertaining seeing how much of a foodie he is.

Instead, he's extending the utensil towards you with some food in it. 

“I'm going to ram that piece of asparagus so far up your—” 

“Okay, I give up,” the fork clanks against the plate again and he gets up momentarily to leave the plate on the table “Didn't really want to deal with your drunk ass tonight, but that's alright.” 

“You've never dealt with my drunk ass because I don't get drunk around you,” you turn to him, crossing your arms. Your back is against the window frame, the way it uncomfortably digs into your spine keeps you grounded “In fact, I don't even get drunk. Ever.”

He imitates your movements “You're such a liar.” 

“Am not.” 

“Yes, yes you are. Do I have to remind you of our graduation party?” 

“Do I have to remind you of our graduation party? I think you're projecting again.”

Especially when it was filled with drunken babbling and awkward energy, the one you can only tell is in the room by being kind-of-sober. 

Yunho was definitely gone and faded, texting with someone (a friend, you remember him saying) on his phone for most of the night and then something happened with said friend (again, his words not yours) so he took your drink from your hand and a bottle from the table and made out with three boys and two girls that night. 

Right in front of you. 

It was traumatic, really, because you never wondered how kissing him would feel until that night. 

And never again since then. 

Your special power, you want to tell him, is remembering every single time Jeong Yunho looked and felt like an actual human being around you. 

Like just now, for example. Getting you food and trying to feed it to you is not really something he Yunho you know would do. So… 

“What's gotten into you? Pity?” cutting right to the chase, your eyes move around his face to catch any movement that might give away that you're right “Because of what you saw this afternoon?” 

“Guilt. Because of what I did this afternoon,” he corrects and your eyebrow raises, his lips go into a thin line before a pout sets on it and you fix your stare on it before looking at his eyes again “You were asking me to stop yelling at you and I didn't listen.” 

You hate that. This. The sudden vulnerability and the thread it's starting to knit between the two of you. 

“That was going to happen regardless of you yelling or not,” you assure him, chugging the drink down and resting the flute next to the other one, on the floor “You don't have to worry about that or me.” 

“Of course I worry,” the softness in his tone is sickening. The way it tugs at your icy heart strings and threatens to break your walls down it's disgusting, so you turn to him with a scowl “I worry about you running your mouth about this… relationship.” 

You scoff out a chuckle “Oh, of course you suddenly worry about that,” nodding, your eyes shut closed again while a bitter and sarcastic smile curves your lips “The dirty little secret will always be safe with me, Yunho, don't pretend you don't know that. Even if you don't want to tell me the reason you came here tonight or the thing that made you not curse your mother for involving you in it, it's safe with me.” 

Yunho’s voice is stern and yet it sounds like a whisper away when he speaks again “Why are you doing it?” 

“Because it's my duty and I owe it to them,” you answer without missing a bit, a little matter of factly and all “What kind of question is that?” 

“No, it's not—”

“Yunho, it was clearly a question—” 

“No, dumbass, shut up for a second,” he lets out an exasperated breath and you look at him, very annoyed. “I'm saying that it's not really your duty.” 

“Yes, it is.”

He makes a face “Not really.” 

“Yes, really,” you push him with your hand on his shoulder and he barely moves “I know you're not familiar with gratefulness or anything close to that feeling but they really gave me everything I own and made me everything I am, Yunho.” 

Clicking his tongue, your fake boyfriend looks disappointed at your reply “They didn't give you your brain, that's for sure,” he murmurs, shrugging “Your intelligence is all yours.” 

“Well, they put me through the best schools and paid for my tuitions and tutors and programs and—” 

“Acquired knowledge and connections are meaningless when you're not smart enough to know what to do with them,” he says like he can't believe you would say that out loud “And you know what to do with them, Y/N.” 

Rendering you completely speechless, the only thing you manage to do is stare at him while your chest vaguely heaves and your mind twists and turns at his words. It strangely warms your heart that he thinks you can give yourself credit for your brains and, in normal circumstances, you would agree with him. 

But this is Yunho and you have to say something to antagonize him, right? 

“W-well, I—” 

“Oh, there you are!” 

Great, the grim reaper. 

It's a little pathetic how quick you stand up and try to cover up the flutes on the floor. Yunho gets up as well and your mother looks delighted to find you both in a room together but you're sure it's because it serves some kind of purpose in her agenda of delusions. 

“Good, you're here too. Yunho, dear, you've been splendid tonight. Did you like the suit?” your fake date nods and smiles a little and she looks satisfied with that “Good, good. I'm glad it fits you just right, not like…” her eyes land on you briefly and then go back to him “Well, not everyone has that privilege, hm?” 

“I'm sorry?” he asks and his tone lets you know he's actually a little taken aback by the sudden jab (you are too, not being used to your mother doing it in front of everyone else). 

It's also a little pathetic how quick you recoil when her eyes locate the plate on the table, untouched, but a plate of food is worse than ten bottles of alcohol in her eyes. 

“Oh, that's why the dress looks a little tight!” she says, condescendingly “Y/N, dear, have you been eating?” 

You feel it again. The stillness before the chaos, the way your body locks up in place and your mouth trembles with fury but it's unable to speak up, to tell her everything she needs to hear. 

Monster. Wench of a woman masquerading as a sadistic piece of—

“I-I haven't, mother.” 

“You're already wearing a somewhat tight dress, Y/N!” 

“Auntie—” Yunho’s voice cuts through but she takes a few steps in his direction and ignores you completely, even if you have started to shake a little. 

Feeling small, useless, helpless and humiliated, you turn to the white wall and start counting the imperfections on it. If you distract yourself, you won't have to fix your makeup later. 

If you distract yourself, you won't have to hear her calling you out for “overreacting” to her words. 

If you distract yourself, you save Yunho from feeling any pity towards you again. It doesn't matter if he said that's not the motivation behind his behavior tonight, you know there has to be some part of him that pities you. 

Like there's some part of you that pities him, just a bit. 

“Now that you are going to have to spend some time together, dear, you have to stop her from doing these sorts of things. The editors work overtime trying to hide it and even then…” 

Her words, Yeji’s words, your own words that you whispered to yourself earlier today in front of the mirror, they all feel heavy on your neck, threatening to crush it under the weight. 

Under your own weight. 

Oh, you feel sick. 

“Auntie, you can't speak to her like that.” 

Yunho is not raising his voice by any means, but the tone is stern and firm and leaves no space for mistaking it as other than a warning. 

Whatever that means for your mother. 

“Now that you're going to have to spend some time together,” she repeats, dismissing Yunho’s warning “You're going to learn that this is the only way you can shut her up when she gets going, dear. She's a very grumpy human being, aren't you, Y/N?” you don't answer or turn and she sighs “See?” 

Closing your eyes, a heavy sigh leaves you before another one follows it and soon your chest is heaving and your hyperventilating while trying to blink away the tears that gather on your eyes. 

Back connecting to the wall, you look up to find Yunho staring at your mother like he discovered some part of her that's new, like he's disappointed and somehow never saw this coming but he says nothing. You also find your mother staring at you and after assessing you quickly again, she rolls her eyes and steps away. 

“She’s also, apparently, very sensitive and can't take constructive criticism well,” she says and when she reaches the door, she looks at you both over her shoulder “Compose yourselves and come out. We have some pictures to take in five minutes.” 

When she closes the door behind her, you release another trembling breath and Yunho practically runs towards you. 

“I've never heard her talking like that to anyone, does she… Y/N, is she—” you shake your head, clearly not having the energy to explain or defend your own mother and he takes the hint immediately “I just never heard her saying anything like that.” 

“You're really lucky, then.” 

He quickly scans your face for something you're not sure he's going to find. You're trying to steady your breath and scare the tears away with the breathing techniques you were given in therapy. 

Yunho finds whatever he's looking for anyway. 

“Don’t listen to her,” he starts and, just like in the afternoon, he looks unsure of what to do with his hands, so he just raises them and lowers them before swallowing hard “You can eat everything you want and this dress would still look beautiful on you,” and his words do nothing but to raise your panic levels a little bit more. Why the hell is he complimenting you? You chest raises and falls a little harder now, your heart beats a little quicker and you whimper a little “Oh, fuck, no, I'm sorry I didn't mean… I did mean it, actually.” 

“Huh?!” 

“To tell you that you look beautiful! Because you do and— Fuck, princess, please don't cry, it's not worth it” he whispers the last bit when cover your eyes with your hands softly and you nod, trying to assure him you won't without saying a word “Did you bring the—” 

Did you promise you were going to bring them? You don't even remember. If you did, you wonder what makes him think you would follow through with that silly promise, considering you're trying to cover your issues up in the first place. 

“No, I didn't. I can't just pop them whenever I feel like crying, Yunho, they're only p-preventative,” you mumble but the question is enough to distract you, to ground you. The only thought passing through you being: don’t let them know. Don't let it show. Don't become carnage for them to pick apart and consume even more “I've been drinking, too, it's not safe to take them.” 

The stillness of the room when you both shut up is what allows you to come up to the surface after almost drowning in your panic. Your breathing steadies, your heart only pounds a little faster when you feel hands on top of yours and soft fingertips caressing the skin of them when they bring them down. 

Opening your eyes to find Yunho staring at you it's not unexpected, the cautious way he regards you is. You can't even bring yourself to break eye contact with him because he did, after all, just tried to help you. 

Again. 

And God knows you don't own Jeong Yunho absolutely anything but you can try and not bark at him when he slowly inspects your face, pupils coming and going like he's trying to read you even more. 

He seems to ignore that this, and the way he saw you earlier today, is as vulnerable as you can get. 

“You know what? Fuck this.” 

“What?” 

“Fuck this. We're leaving.”

Next thing you know, your mind catches onto your body's movements when he already dragged you to the hallway and to the top of the stairs “Yunho, we can't.” 

He takes a few steps down and you follow, a little irritated. 

“Fuck this and what they want from us, Y/N.” 

“I can't.” 

He pauses and turns to you, you take the opportunity to release yourself from his grasp and raise your chin a little. From this position, you're taller than him but not for much, especially not when he climbs up a step back. 

“You're seriously going back out there after all the shit your mother just gave you?” 

“Yes,” you answer right away and you can visibly tell that he's pissed at you. Only this time, it comes with zero gratification for your pride. “You're free to leave and do whatever you want but I have a responsibility with my family that I can't just walk out of.” 

“But—” 

“But what, Yunho?” shoulders deflating and arms dropping to your sides, it feels like you're never going to get yourself, your reasons, through his thick skull “What are we going to do if we get out of here now, hm? Get in a car, go for some fast food? End up on a rooftop somewhere or a park or whatever spot you think is cool and calm to reflect on our shitty families, Yunho?” 

He doesn't say anything but the tick of his jaw it's indicative of how your words are hitting him. You're glad and not out if pure pettiness or spite, for once. 

“And then you expect me to magically renounce everything I have, everything I am, because you have a little revolutionary anti chaebol spirit inside of you?” you scoff, leaning in a fraction “This is not a movie, Yunho. I'm not a damsel in distress, I don't need you to tell me how awful my mother is or to save me from her. Now,” you lean back and then take the steps down “I'm going in there, I'm taking the stupid pictures she wants me to take and, if you're planning on staying, I'll leave with you when all of our parent's friends are drunk enough that they don't notice us leaving.” 

You look back up at him and he closes his eyes, indecisiveness written all over his expression. 

And that's, probably, the biggest difference between you both. 

But you feel some sort of safety when he opens them up again: There, pissed and all, is the image of the Yunho you know. 

And that’s exactly who you need tonight. 

“Please don't leave that plate of food up there,” you mumble and he's about to say something else when you interrupt him “I don't want to eat it, I just want you to go back up there so I can go inside first. The last thing I want is for people to think that I'm so in love that I lost all of my decorum in a staff closet or something.” 

It takes him a second, but words come out of his mouth and under his breath “Ew.” 

Your eyes almost meet the back of your head at that. 

“You wish, Jeong.” 

You take the rest of the steps down and then take a huge breath before stepping back into the gala. 

The first thing you do is look for another drink. 

And drink you do. 

You only notice Yunho didn't leave after his brief debauchery of anarchy when you feel his presence next to you, his hand on yours or your arm or your hip the rest of the night (as fake as it feels, it’s a good facade for everyone who’s playing close attention so you welcome the fact that he’s not pissed enough to blown your cover off with a tiny bit of gratefulness), especially when Yeji gets too close or attempts to initiate a conversation. 

You hate that your chest swells with victory when you see her face fall after the last attempt to steal your fake boyfriend. 

But you don't really notice if she puts more effort into doing it. After a particular coctel, you're left dizzy enough that the rest of the night passes in a blur and you're operating in autopilot by the time Yunho leans in and whispers that he's taking you home. 

Why is Yunho taking you home out of all people? 

Well he's not, not really. He’s not driving you anywhere. In fact, he’s making you freeze as he waits for something, hands on his hips and everything. 

“Where's your driver?” 

He looks around the empty street, waiting for the car that brought you two to the gala to appear and you drunkenly giggle, back against the brick wall “Home with his family, I hope.” 

“So who's driving us?” 

“The helicopter, it's parked on the roof.” 

He turns to you “The what?” 

“I'm getting an uber, Yunho. Get yours.” 

“I said, I'm taking you home.” 

“Did you?” you frown as you look through the apps on your phone until you find the one you need. Quickly typing the name of the place hosting the event, it takes a few clicks till it lets you know they're finding a driver for you “I don't remember you saying that. I remember you stuttering in front of grandma Park when she called you handsome,” you lock your phone and look back up at him “Oh and you blushed just like that, too. You look so dumb.” 

Defensively, he stutters out “I'm not blushing.” 

You giggle again and point at his silly, stupid, concerned face “Yes, you are,” a notification makes your phone light up “My car is a minute away.” 

“Our car.” 

“Oh my God,” you groan, “you're a pain in the ass.” 

“And you're drunk!” He points out and you roll your eyes “I despise you princess, truly, now more than ever, but it's against my principles.” 

You scoff, loudly and then laugh at him, at his words, at his mask “You can stop pretending now, Jeong. I don't buy it like everyone else does- Oh, the car.” 

As the uber comes to a stop, you manage to not stumble your way to it and to ignore Yunho’s hands (open and willing to catch you in case you fall) because you certainly don’t need his help. He should know it by now. He shouldn’t even open the door for you, but here he is, ever the gentleman in front of everyone else and a total ass behind closed doors.

Although today…

No. Pushing the thought aside, you ironically bow to “thank him” for his kindness. 

“Buy what exactly?” He asks before you can get in. 

The door is open now, yellow light on both yours and Yunho’s faces, and the driver is trying to conceal (very badly) the fact that he’s paying attention to your conversation, so you put on a smile and shrug to dismiss his question “I’ll tell you later, dear. Thanks for walking me to the car,” his confused expression makes you want to giggle again, but you save it “Text me when you get home, hm?” 

Before he can argue with you some more, you get into the car and welcome the warmth radiating from the leather seat before attempting to close the door. 

Only for it to be pulled open again “Move,” he says a little harshly and then looks at the drive “m-my love.” 

Oh, he’s so bad at this. 

But he doesn’t really leave room to kick him out of your uber when he forces his way in “Good evening.” He says to the driver and smiles at the man behind the steering wheel as well before the door closes and the car is surrounded by darkness again. 

Hands grasping the seat and Yunho’s arm, you think maybe you should've listened to him when he told you to eat something. The world spins a little when the car starts moving and it really takes everything in you, for the first time ever, to pull away from Yunho’s firm arm and make space in between you like you always do. 

There’s silence at last. Until there isn’t. 

Your mind it’s never truly quiet, is it? 

Dizzy and everything, you start planning the rest of your night and the next day. You don’t have to go into the office, so you can take care of everything at home. Okay, cool. There’s this thing you need to talk to HR about and also you need to schedule the lunches you’re bringing to the orphanage. What day is it? Ah, right, you still have a few more days to make everything pretty for the children. Is Yunho on your schedule for the week? You forgot to check, you forgot to ask. The calendar should be updated by now, considering your mom’s main assistant was not at the event tonight and that means she’s working overtime tonight. Probably making sure there’s no wrong headlines on the immediate news outlets and curating the comments on the instagram posts and—

“Whatcha' thinkin' about?”

Silence again. 

Only this time, it’s because you notice Yunho’s fingers on your arm and your head snaps towards him so fast it makes you dizzier. 

Nothing you care about, you want to tell him. Nothing important, nothing that would make an actual impact and close the bridge between you and him enough for him to be handling you with some much care for the umphtenth time today.  

“I’m just really tired,” you say instead and, for once, you’re not lying or deflecting. You’re so fucking tired “I didn’t sleep last night. I was working on something.” Again, not a lie, even though you were working on ways of preventing this entire day from happening. 

“Well, we’re a few minutes away.” 

“I’m a few minutes away.” You correct in a whisper which makes him giggle under his breath and that prompts you to stare bitterly at him.

You don’t ask him what the fuck is so funny but you find out once you reach the gate of your house. Not waiting for him to get down and open the door for you (because you don’t expect him to get down with you at all), you bid your goodbye to the driver -not Yunho- and get out of the car so fast it feels like someone pressed the fast forward button on you. You’re more sober now than what you were at the start of the car ride but it still proves difficult to slide the panel of your front door up and let it read your thumb print to gain access. 

“Stupid fucking thing.” You say in a distracted murmur when it wont read the print and almost let out a scream when someone grabs your opposite thumb and raises it to the panel. 

It reads right away and you turn to Yunho with a scowl on your face “I hate you.” 

“My brother designed this thing before Jeong Tech moved on to cybersecurity exclusively,” he reminds you “Careful with what you say about it.” 

Looking at the street, you find it empty again “Walking home or what?” 

“Stop pretending to not know I’m going to help you in, Y/N.” 

“I don’t need your help!” 

He looks at the thumb he’s still grabbing and the back at you before raising a brow “Sure.” 

Groaning, you take your thumb back to open the gate. You don’t even attempt to close it on his face but you don’t wait for him as you speedrun your front garden and, when you get up the stairs to your front door, it opens on its own. 

Well, not on its own. There’s a staff member smiling kindly at you. She’s one of the new ones, the young ones (younger than you, even) who won’t even tell you their names at your mothers petition, so you usually don’t insist on it because it causes them stress. You shake your head “Did she make you stay up late tonight?”

“Yes, miss Kim. She instructed me to stay the night in case either you, mister Kim or her needed some help.” 

“Help with what?” you say with a tint of annoyance in your tone and you see her bow instinctively at Yunho, who you presume is right behind you now and she offers her hands immediately to take his coat from him but you wave yours so she can stop “Please, go to your room and sleep. If she gets angry because she doesn’t find anyone to help her undress tonight, I’ll deal with it.” 

“But… Miss Kim, your guest—”

“Mister Jeong Yunho,” you don’t turn to him but you guess he bowed to her again because she hurriedly does the same “He’s not staying for long,” you hope. “Please go and get some sleep, dear.”  

She hesitates and your face softens at the slight panic you recognize in her eyes very, very well. 

“I’ll deal with her,” you promise with a genuine smile tugging at your lips “Now, go.” 

Obeying, she bows deeply at both of you before smiling back at you for a split second before disappearing through the staff aisle. There’s not many staff who stay in the property after hours and the ones that do usually stay when your parents need them but you find it quite annoying. 

Not for you but because you’re grown people. There’s not many things the staff do for you besides your breakfast every morning and your clothes -because you couldn’t convince your mom to let you do it yourself- but for her? For your dad? They do almost everything.  

At their grown age. Ugh. 

Getting into the house, you slip your high heels off and you hear the door closing and some shuffling, letting you know Yunho is doing the same. 

“You’re not welcomed here, Jeong, please go away.” 

“Shut up and look at your phone, will you?” 

“Hm?” 

Unlocking it, it’s immediately floated with messages from a new group chat that consists of Yunho, his brother, your brother and you. 

The texts are very clearly written by two drunk idiots (your brothers) and one sober idiot (Yunho) and there’s even a selfie taken in the very same room Yunho found you in earlier today. Frowning, you move to the last texts. 

kim soohyun: mjom and dad 4nd mom and dad are going home to have a little after party in like an horu hbtw  gunho oppa ♡︎: so wer’e going otoo! hehe. stay in your room y/n if u don’t eant to deal with yaunti she’s a lil hdrunkies  kim soohyun: mhm but n o funnhy business  kim soohyun: oh wait  kim soohyun: you’re anot actually ua thing hahahahaha @yn u loser 

Oh you’re going to kill him. Both of them. The three of them, actually, now that Yunho takes the opportunity to send a laughing emoji at what your brother said and when you look up at him, he’s giggling again. 

“What the actual fuck.” 

“He’s funny!” He defends himself right away and you groan before heading for the stairs. The texts and the fact there’s going to be some sort of movement on the house when it’s supposed to be cold, empty and, most importantly, in total silence, it’s enough to sober you up. 

“This is the worst day of my life.” 

Yunho does not follow you. But this house, at this point and with him disregarding your wishes of exiling him out of your life, is as much his as it is yours, so you just let him be downstairs while the darkness of your room engulfs you. You move like that, with the street lights and the moonlight leaking through the big balcony window and toss your purse and phone on the bed. 

Getting your accessories off, they clink and clank on your vanity by door and breathe a little more calmly now that the weight of them is not on you. Slowly, but surely, the stress and sensory overstimulation of the night makes it way off you as well. 

It’s not only until you get to the zipper of your dress that you remember why you needed someone to get you into the dress in the first place. It’s stuck, per se, but you can’t really reach it no matter how much you bend and twist and there’s some noise downstairs that it’s making your eye twitch a little bit. Maybe what’s making it is the ice machine built in on the fridge but you also hear some pans and you find it hilarious that Yunho, out of everyone, is the first non-contractually obligated person to touch the kitchen in years. 

Losing the battle against the zipper and sweating a little bit, the last wave of dizziness from all the drinks you had comes in and so you lower yourself to the floor, near the balcony door and just close your eyes. 

Now that you're home, the lack of sleep really gets to you. It feels like ten minutes or ten hours  simultaneously when someone turns on the light in your room and the sudden intrusion of it burns you a bit when you open your eyes and stare at the ceiling. 

Yunho scoffs from your door and you hear your foodsteps approach until he’s on your line of vision, eyebrows creasing at the sight of him “You’re so fucking weird, I swear.” 

You mumble your jab out “Yeah, laying on the floor in the dark after an exhausting day of dealing with your presence it’s not as weird as it sounds, buddy.” 

He ignores you.

“Made you some food.” 

Suspicious. Slowly, you sit up. There’s a tray on your vanity with bowls and glasses of water and you want to yell at him for putting it there in the first place but the smell of buldak invades your nostrils and your stomach grumbles in response.

You didn't even know you had buldak anywhere in this house. Weird. 

“Is it poisoned?” 

“Maybe,” he shrugs “why don’t you find out?” 

Your stomach grumbles again, begging. Your heart races as you glance at the tray again, anxious. Your rotten mind makes you delay your words, already telling you you’re going to regret it. 

But you’re so hungry. 

“Did you put cheese on it?” 

Yunho is sitting at the edge of your bed now, manspreading and with his elbows on his legs, his hands in between them. This coat is off now, you don’t really know where he left it at but it’s gone and his hair it’s not perfect anymore, like he ran his hand through it a couple of times. He smiles a little at you when he answers, low and teasing, like he can’t believe you asked him that “Obviously.” 

You wish you could convince yourself that the gulp you just did it’s due to your sudden appetite. And it kind of is. But the truth of the matter is that the ramen had nothing to do with it. 

He looks good like this. He doesn’t necessarily looks like the manchild you know and even if it irks you a little that he insists of taking care of you with this little, insignificant detail (after all, he’s going to get out of your life and your complicated relationship with food will endure till the end of times), you can’t really deny the sudden blush it brings to your cheeks. 

Clearing your throat and reaching behind you to open the balcony door, you point to the tray with your chin “Alright, bring it here.” 

It’s truly a shame you can read it in his face that he’s counting this as some sort of victory and, if it were anyone else, you would hate to disappoint them when they inevitably notice further on that this effort of correcting your nasty habits are futile as long as your living with the source of the issue under the same roof. But since it’s Yunho, you don’t really care. 

You don't care, you don’t care, you don’t care. 

The way your heart squeezes and you feel like crying when he intently watches the first bite you take out of the noodles it’s nothing, it’s just your emotions getting mixed in with the spicy taste of them and the cheese and the way your stomach finally gets some sort of relief after being partially empty the entire day. 

You don’t care that he made a little bowl for himself as well. And you definitely don’t care that he’s sitting beside you, eating his food and occasionally glancing at you to check your reaction and you hate him for it. 

It triggers the part of you that doesn’t really know how to behave, the same part who thought of him fondly this afternoon when he wiped your tears away and calmed your nerves. When brought you food upstairs at the gala, when he brushed his fingers against your arm in the car, when he helped you in. 

When you saw his expression after his mom yelled at him. When he got upset after your mom yelled at you. 

It's like you can see it: the knitting needle moving faster than ever, interspersing your lives even more and in the worst way possible, the only way you don't want it to happen is because it's unexpected and you haven’t prepared for it, because it's unnecessary. 

The way your heart is beating for him right now is totally unnecessary. 

“What?” He asks when he notices you staring “I know it’s not that bad, princess, I live in a dorm most days of the week,” he adds, laughing a little and you look down at your noodles again, halfway done “If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s ramen.” 

“We had this or did you bring it with you?” Stupid question but right now you need to distract yourself from your sudden burst of feelings and vulnerability. 

He looks at you like you’re a weirdo, again “And kept it where?” 

“In that birdnest you call hair, for example.”

“Okay, you know what—” he stops when he hears you laugh and drops his argument alongside his chopsticks, only to laugh a little as well “Smartass.” 

“I’m just hilarious, dude,” you say, shrugging it off like you’re humble or something “Where do you think Soohyun got it from?” 

“Definitely not you.” 

“Tsk,” you shake your head “you have no humor. I don’t know how mister Park stands you.” 

That seems to bring the memory back. Assuming he forgot because you both had better things to focus on, he brings his palm to his head rather harshly and you cringe at the sound it makes. 

“Right! How do you fucking know him, Y/N? I thought you only knew Yeo.” 

“Who?” 

“Yeosang,” at your furrowed brow, he turns a little in your direction and sighs “The guy I was with that one time you saw me at the bowling alley, like a year or so ago I think.” 

Oh, that guy you totally didn’t remember existed until now. Barely remembering that day, you recall it was one of those days you went along with the plans your classmates had at the time. A bowling alley? A public bowling alley? It seemed like such a normal endeavor until you spotted Yunho at the entryway talking with, you assumed at the time and confirmed now, his friend. 

When he saw you and barely raised his hand to wave at you, you remember the feeling of embarrassment washing over your and your cheeks turning red and then excusing yourself and leaving the scene immediately, like you were caught red-handed enjoying shit you definitely shouldn’t be enjoying. 

“Ah,” you tilt your head “I forgot about that,” you obviously didn’t, but you pretend you did “I didn’t know his name, though, I didn’t say hi to you or anything.” 

“Didn’t expect you to,” he shrugs it off “He asked me if you liked me that day and I asked him what gave him the impression you did,” that takes you off guard and you the noodles get caught up on your throat a little before you force them pass it and mumble out a tiny what? “Mhm, I didn’t understand either and he told me to forget it but I remember it because he didn’t even see you that well that night.” 

“Maybe he’s fucking crazy,” you offer and he gives you a look “It would suit you if you friends were crazy, I’m just saying.” 

“Suit me? That's crazy.” 

“Did I stutter?” 

“How do you know Hwa, Y/N?” 

You almost ask him who that is when it clicks on his head that he’s talking about Park Seonghwa. Thinking about him, about your tiny hiccup early this morning and the acute possibility there was of him saying yes to your proposal makes you scrunch your nose in momentary resentment. Because, really, you’re glad he said no. 

Yunho might not be used to this world of tinsel and fakeness anymore but he’s cut for it. Seonghwa? He didn’t look like he would last a second actually involved in it. 

Good for him. 

“He’s working for my brother,” you finally answer after a few seconds of staring at your noodles and sipping a bit of water and Yunho open his eyes at the new information “He’s working on his spaces and aligning his chakras or whatever Soohyun is into these days,” sighing, you think about that dumb tree he made you paint on his wall and then stare at the half finished canvas that’s facing the wall next to your vanity for a few seconds “Probably going to renovate his apartment, too. Soohyun said he’s tired of minimalism or something?” 

“That definitely sounds like Hwa,” he nods and you wonder what he means by that but don’t pry “And his girlfriend?” 

“The mechanic?” you ask and Yunho shrugs “He told me she was his mechanic,” you clarify before continuing “He brought his motorcycle to the building because something was wrong with it, I guess. They’re together together now?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

“She’s really cool,” you smile at the memory of the girl “She looks really cool, at least.” 

“Yeah but he just met her.” 

“And?” 

“Isn’t it a little too early to call her his girlfriend?” 

“How the hell would I know that?” you ask and you don’t mean to sound defensive… But you do a little bit so you clear your throat and shrug one more time and decide to joke your way out of it “Should he wait like fifteen years so that his mom forces him to be in a fake relationship with her or something?”

Yunho doesn’t laugh. 

You finish your noodles in silence until he groans and you turn to him.  

He stares at his phone and then closes his eyes, regretfully “God, they’ve been calling me for a few hours now.” 

“They found out?”

“I don’t know.” He whines, resting his forehead on his palm as he looks through some messages. 

You take the opportunity to distract him, tease him a little bit if that’s able to get him off his phone “Do you know anything ever?” 

“I know you’re annoying as fuck even when I make you food and all.”

It works because he locks his phone and stares at you with a pout that feigns innocence and  hurt. 

“Oh, wow,” you gulp the rest of the water down and wipe the corners of your mouth with your fingers before propping yourself up on your knees and then all the way up “And just when I thought we were finally getting along.”

He gets up as well “Is that a thing?” he asks, taking the tray from the floor and leaving it on top of your vanity again, which gains him a look that he ignores “Us being friends?” 

“Well, no,” you turn to him on your way to your walk-in closet “We were born to hate each other and that’s the way it’s supposed to be.” 

“We should at least try, Y/N. I have a schedule with you now.” 

You don’t hear him follow you but when you turn after finding your pajamas for the night, he’s resting his shoulder on the door frame and the same thought as before crosses your mind. 

Why is he attractive like this? Under the soft light of your walk-in closet and with his tie loose and messy? 

You don’t if that is what possesses you to walk towards him, slowly, like a lioness towards her prey and stop just before your chest touches his middle “Is that why you want to get along? Or is it because you’re still pitying me, Jeong?” 

He says nothing, eyes lidded and breath picking up along yours. 

“Is that why you brought me food at the gala? Why you suggested us leaving, defy our parents' wishes only after you saw the way she treated me? Is that it?” 

You want him to tell you yes, that’s exactly what it is. Because that alone can effectively kill the desire that suddenly rushes through you, unbidden and foreign. If you lean a little, if you grab his tie and pull him down towards you… Maybe he’ll reject you, maybe his rejection will kill the feeling down too. 

So you lean in just a fraction. 

And Yunho stays put. 

What the hell is going on? 

“I don’t pity you, Y/N,” he lets you know for the second time tonight “I understand you,” he says, his eyes scanning your face and looking for something. He seems to find it, he seems to be satisfied with it as well “I finally understand you and I think you understand me too. Do you?”

It takes you a bit, but you nod and he tilts his head just a little bit, like saying see? 

“And because of that, you want us to be friends?”

He breathes out and it hits your cheek. Your chest heaves a little at that “Don’t you think we could at least try to get along, princess?” He asks in a whisper. 

You take your time pretending to think about it like the proposal isn’t tempting, like you didn’t already answer yourself inside your head. Truly, you’re a little lost at the closeness and a little dizzy at the way his pupils seem to be committing you to his memory. 

There’s this sudden tension you never let yourself feel before and your mouth hangs open a little when he leans in another tiny, molecular fraction into your space. 

And then common sense takes over. Pushing him away and into your room just to move past him, you shrug “Truce until we break up, it is.” 

“Truce, then.” You don’t need to turn to him to know he’s smiling. 

“They updated it?” you don’t have your phone with you but you can already foresee the amount of activities you have together just to put up with the charade. He looks at you, confused after whatever that was “The calendar?” 

“O-oh, yeah, uhm… I don’t see you for the rest of the week except on saturday morning and afternoon, here it says, um…” at the day mentioned, you freeze “It says: Ask her to take you with her to her saturday activities?” 

“You don’t need to, I’ll tell them you were with me.” You dismiss the idea right away, pretending it’s not a big deal and moving to your big mirror to try and unzip the dress one more time. 

“Why? What do you do on saturdays?” 

Giving him a look, he puts his palms up defensively. 

“I thought we were friends now!” 

“Having friends means sharing your personal agenda with them?” You ask, beyond confused.

“It’s technically my agenda too, so…” 

“I don’t know why it’s your agenda too because what I do on saturdays it’s not necessarily public information and… Oh, stupid zipper,” you look around your vanity for something that can help you get it down “And,” you continue, failing at the task in hand “It’s not really something for everyone. So I’m guessing it’s some sort of way your mom or my mom are punishing you for lashing out this afternoon.” 

“Ok, but what is it?” He murmurs and you stop your movements. Yunho is suddenly behind you. Entranced with finding something that could help you out, you didn’t even notice him closing the distance in the background on the reflection on the mirror. But when you look up he’s there and your poor, poor heart picks up again.

“I volunteer at an orphanage that’s not really… Well, it’s not the best at taking care of the kids but I’m working on that,” you answer, cautiously, catching his surprised expression in the mirror “I bring them some food and toys and since it’s nearing halloween we wanted to decorate the space a little bit but the kids they’re not… Sweet and innocent,” you try to explain, gulping when Yunho raises his hands and his fingers start fidgeting with the zipper “They’ve been through some shit so they cause a little bit of trouble when people go and visit them. They’re used to seeing me but not you, so…” 

“They’re going to bully me?” he asks, regarding you through the reflection with a tiny smile “I can help you this saturday if you like… It’s stuck,” the pout returns to his lips and you can only hope he’s not able to hear your heartbeats the way you hear them of your ears, the way you feel them on your throat, especially when the zipper gives in and it slides easily down the length of your body. He leaves it at an appropriate distance, where it doesn’t show too much skin and it doesn’t feel impossible to pull it down yourself, either “There.” 

“T-thanks,” you stutter out fast, wondering why he’s not pulling away and time stops ticking when you catch him taking a look at your exposed skin, his cheeks darkening a bit or so you think “I t-thought you had that thing this weekend?” 

“Honjoong’s gig,” he nods “that’s at eight that day. So I can go with you on— I want to go with you.”

What is this? What’s this sudden change of heart? What’s this tension, this mutual understanding, this sudden feeling of wanting to have him around for that? 

Your walls are falling down and that’s dangerous. 

Your clothes might fall down too, if he keeps staring at you like that. 

“Sure,” you mumble out and, for the first time in forever, you welcome with a hug and a kiss on the forehead the sound of the garage door opening and signaling that your parents and his are finally home “Y-you should—” 

He pulls away, awkwardly and almost tripping with the carpet. 

“Y-yeah, no, definitely—”

“I’m going to t-take a shower, so…”

“Oh, yeah, you stink again, um—”

He almost makes it through the door when he turns around and takes the tray “Thank you, by the way.” 

It catches him off guard, you can tell.

“Thank you for today. For showing up, for making me food and everything else.” 

His smile brings that fluttery softness emotion back and you point to the door before he can say anything back. 

“Tell them I’m asleep, please.” 

“Yeah, okay, hm… See you saturday?” 

“Sure.” 

“Okay,” he smiles again and you walk to the door so you can see him out of your room and lock it like his brother suggested over text “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

“Night, Jeong.” You whisper and, finally, you breathe in the normalcy of your room again. 

Only this time, you look around and see the image of Yunho at the edge of your bed. And again, sitting by your balcony with you. And again, when you move through the walk-in closet to get to your bathroom behind it, you turn and the memory of him leaning on the door frame plagues your mind like a virus. 

You’re in so much trouble. 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. This is part two of three (possibly more if the story extends that far). Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[prodagustd]

the road not taken 04 | myg

part four: a wish

Summary: Were you about to go crazy if you started to consider that Yoongi felt something for you?

<part three | part five>

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, FLUFF ❤️‍🩹, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! mentions of sex 👀Btw english is not my first language!

—words: 9.6k

—a/note: hiiii friends!!! i'm glad to say that it didn't take me six months to post this :D. I genuinely went through the most stressful two months of my life so I'm really proud that I could finish this chapter while trying to survive this thing called being an adult!! Anywayy, I’m excited for this chapter but I’m MORE EXCITED FOR THE NEXT ONE… 👀 so please have patience with this story!!! I promise it’s worth it hehehe. As always, you are more than invited to discuss this chapter in the asks, feedback is always welcomed <3 this one is very fluffy i hope you enjoy ittt. (Also if you read a typo, no you didn’t)

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Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve

Were you too naive to still believe your father when he said that you were granted a wish every Christmas? He used to say that every year when he was still around and you were still a kid, when the clock struck twelve you could wish anything you wanted, as long as it wasn’t something material or more presents, you had to wish for something special, something that made you happy. 

The last Christmas before your father passed away you were seven years old and still believed in Santa Claus. That year, for some reason, your wish slipped your mind, you forgot about it completely. You stayed at your house, watched movies the whole day in your pajamas and at midnight your parents let both you and Simon open only one present before sending you to bed. You remembered how your father chased you to the stairs to tickle you until you cried of laughter and how good the cookies your mother made that night were, perhaps that year you were too happy to remember making a wish, perhaps what you had was enough. When you woke up the next morning, you were sad that you had wasted it, but your father, wise as ever, told you not to worry. He said that it was like you were saving your wish for the next year — maybe then it would be stronger, and maybe, since you waited, you would have a better chance of it coming true.

By the time Christmas came the following year your father was already gone, and with him all the magic of the world. You had to grow up, you stopped making wishes and tried to stop believing in stories, but it was difficult when his words were still at the back of your mind like some sort of tradition every holiday season. Despite knowing that magic didn’t exist and perhaps not a single wish of yours had ever come true, you still couldn't help but believe you still had your last wish, and everytime the idea of finally making it crossed your mind, you stopped to tell yourself you could still wait another year, just to be sure. 

That morning you saw Yoongi leaned over his car, adjusting his cap as he saw you walking over to him and you thought about your saved wish for the first time this year. And then again when he grabbed your hand to drag you out of the room, or when he waited for you at the bottom of the stairs before leaving the house, but you wouldn’t admit it, not even to yourself. 

He dragged you all across your grandmother’s hometown as if you didn’t know it like the palm of your hand, as if the streets weren’t filled with kids running and whole families doing last-minute gift shopping, but he didn’t seem to care, so for once, you didn’t let it annoy you either. You observed the happy families and the kids playing in the snow, and sat in the park for as long as the cold weather allowed.

It was like you entered a trance, you tried to fight the urge to snap out of the moment and talked and talked the whole afternoon about everything and nothing at the same time, Yoongi listened and laughed while playing with the ends of your hair, pushing you closer to the edge of illusion. If you weren’t so adamant to stay in that blurry haze, you would’ve done something to stop him, you would’ve push his hand away when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, you would’ve hated how easy it was for him to play dumb, how natural it was to touch you without feeling something was wrong. You ignored it instead, you ignored him and his wandering hands and the fact that he didn’t dare to mention the moment you shared in the closet, nor the way your noses brushed together, or how his fingers hugged your waist as if you weren’t just friends. Even if you would’ve died for him to say a word about it, to tease you, to attempt to make fun of you just to know that what happened was real and not something you dreamt last night.

If you were really dreaming, you held on to your sleep for a while. When Yoongi found that secondhand bookstore five blocks away from the park, he grabbed your hand when you ran across the street before the traffic lights turned green and stayed inside wandering the aisles with him, you let him lean over to whisper jokes in your ear and you punched his arms when he made you laugh a little bit too loud. You tried to keep your voices low and made a list of books to read the following year. You didn’t buy any of them but you read the prologues and the author’s biographies like it was the most interesting thing in the world. You waited for Yoongi when he started to talk with an old man about a book he needed for college and, when he felt you drifting away, he hooked one of his fingers on the belt loop of your jeans and pulled you close to him again. You felt his hands on your waist, keeping you pressed against the side of your body while he pretended to be focused on the conversation, but he was focused on something else. His long fingers played with the waistband of your jeans as your chest felt tight and your breath felt heavier. Maybe you were beginning to go insane, maybe you had a fever and everything was just a product of your imagination, but a tiny voice inside your head quietly suggested that maybe this time you weren’t insane, maybe it was just him.

It was getting dark outside, and you were supposed to be home anytime soon, but he turned his head to you and whispered in your ear that you should save a seat at the coffee shop next door and wait for him while he paid for the book. Even if it was cold and snowing neither of you wanted to return home yet, so you agreed. You made your way to the cute little coffee shop adorned with Christmas lights and sat on a table to wait for him to arrive at the table, until you saw him entering the shop with a book wrapped in brown wrapping paper in his hands. 

You observed him approaching with your face on the palms of your hands, you watched his eyes scanning the place until they found you in some poor illuminated corner. He smiled, his eyes never left yours as he made his way to your table, and when he sat in front of you, he slid the book towards you. 

“This is for you.” He simply said, crossing his arms over his chest like it was no big deal. 

You frowned, confused. Did Yoongi get you some lawyer book? You didn’t know, you grabbed the wrapped book in your hands and scanned it as if you were able to see through the envelope. “The book you needed for college?”

“It’s not that.” He huffed. “It’s a present.” 

You tried to bite back a smile, but you failed. “Is this your way to tell me you forgot to buy me a Christmas present?” You joked, making him roll his eyes. 

“C’mon, you know me.” He said “I would never give you a Christmas present before Christmas, are you crazy?”

You laughed “So is this not a Christmas present?” You inquired, teasing him. 

“It is a Christmas present, but not the Christmas present that I got for you.” He tried to clarify, and it sounded confusing but you understood him anyway. 

You nodded, tearing the wrapping paper to reveal that Yoongi just bought you an Anne Sexton poetry book, the title “Love Poems” shinned in red on the cover, making you hold your breath for a second. 

You raised your gaze from the book to find his eyes, which were looking at you expectantly, the same way someone looked at the moon, yearning. The same way you were looking at him. 

“How did you know…?” The question died in your lips.

“I just know.” He cheekily said, and that was enough.

You know me, he said, and you felt your heart aching when you realized that Yoongi knew you too, and it was becoming impossible to escape from it.

You spent these past weeks trying to make it disappear, but there it was again, that strange feeling you felt in your chest, like something tugged from a string tied to your heart to try and steal it away. You were sure Yoongi thought he had his ways with you, that he was some kind of genius that knew exactly what to say and what to do to erase the frown from your face and make you laugh, but the truth was that he didn’t need to do much effort to win you over, the truth was that he already had you. He had you then, and he had you now and you weren’t sure if that was ever going to change, but today you didn’t care, you let him walk you home as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like that warm wouldn’t chill you to the bone when he left. 

You had successfully gone through dinner without having to answer questions about college, or your future, or anything about yourself at all, part of it was because your grandmother didn’t ask any questions to begin with. Maybe you were a bit jealous that she seemed more interested in Eva, your cousin, who was a biochemist and just got engaged, or Aidan, your other cousin, who was just admitted into college, or even Yoongi, who was about to graduate, however, you felt relieved that the attention was not focused on you. You were used to your family thinking that you were a thirteen year old teenager and not a twenty one year adult, the attention was never really on you, sometimes it bounced on you accidentally like a ball and, from time to time, you got to share a glimpse of information about your life, but most of the time your mother answered for you as if you were a kid in the hospital room, trying to include you in conversations and talking about your own projects, and that was enough for everyone. 

In the past, your mother had sat you down several times to explain that your grandmother was never an easy woman, she reassured you that her judgmental behavior was a reflection of herself, not of you. She always offered to let you stay at home if you wanted to, but you refused only for the rest of the family, you could stand being with your grandmother if that meant being with the rest of them. And you learnt to endure it all: your grandmother’s judging look, all the talking about your cousin’s achievements, their goals, projects, flawless record, and the fact that everyone seemed to be finding their paths except for you. You had to learn to pretend you were happy for them and not jealous, you took several breaths and moved on, and for a while you thought that after two decades of your life you had finally mastered the art in not giving a fuck about what your family thought about you, until today when you ran to hide in the closet so they wouldn’t find you. 

You had to work on that, you knew that, but at least for now the blatant disinterest for your life spared you from having to explain your life crisis, at least Yoongi was by your side, redirecting attention to him and the real question everyone wanted to ask but no one dared, a question that eclipsed any other topic of conversation: what was happening between the two of you? 

You looked at him next to you, charming as ever, talking with your uncle across the table. He decided to put on his glasses, his cheeks were pink and the sleeves of his blue sweater were rolled up to his elbows, his arm was casually resting on the top rail of your chair and every time he made a joke he looked at you to check if you were laughing. Every attempt he made to try to make you part of the conversation made your heart swell, but you were more than happy just observing him blending into your family as if he were part of it; you wanted to be as clueless as everyone on the table and believe that Yoongi could be sitting next year at this very same table to be there for you, for a moment you allowed yourself to dream of a reality where he saved you from every family gathering like he was doing tonight.

From the tip of your nose to the tip of your toes you felt warm, almost as if you had a fever. It was probably because you were still wearing your black sweater inside the house or because the memory of the book Yoongi gave you kept your cheeks burning red, or maybe because when dinner was over and your family lingered over the table for the longest time they could, you saw Yoongi tilting his head towards the stairs, meaning it was time to go to bed. 

There was a couple differences between this weekend and the night Yoongi slept with you after coming back from The Alley, that night you wouldn’t have ask him to stay over if you were sober, and he most likely wouldn’t have stay if he wasn’t high, tonight you had to share the room, but it was impossible for you not to be dramatic and always make big deals out of small things. Unlike you, Yoongi didn’t flinch when you told him you were going to sleep in the same room, you failed to remember that you were the one who had a decade-long crush on him and not the other way around.

Now the house was quiet and everyone was scattered around the floors, your cousins were in the living room with your uncle, your grandmother was already in bed, your mom was in the kitchen washing the dishes and Yoongi was upstairs, waiting for you. Before going with him, you changed into your pajamas and went to the kitchen to steal a few cookies that your mother cooked for tomorrow morning. You could wait a few hours more to eat the cookies, but you were desperately trying to look for an excuse to prolong the moment you entered the room you were sharing with the man upstairs. 

You entered the kitchen, making your mother turn around from the sink to take a quick look at you before coming back to the dishes. “Are you already going to sleep?” She asked, a curious tone on her voice. 

“Yeah, but I wanted to grab a few cookies first, is that okay?” You inquired, already opening the cabinet above her head to grab a big plate.

“Just a few, remember they’re for everyone.” She warned, and you hummed in response, knowing that you were going to grab more than just a few. 

The room fell silent for a moment, you heard the water running and your dragging feet making their way to the cookies on the counter before she raised her voice again. “Are they for you and Yoongi?” 

You hummed again “Yes, just a few, I promise.” You said, grabbing what it seemed to be a whole batch of cookies to put on the plate. 

You tried to be quick, putting an extra cookie for the road between your teeth and turning around to escape from your mother before she could see you and scold you for stealing way too many cookies. Trying not to make any noise, as if that could make you invisible, you made your way towards the door to escape, but when you thought you were about to succeed, you heard the nickname your mom used for you from the corner of the room, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Wait, darling.” You heard her tone of voice, surprised that it wasn’t annoyed, but rather motherly. 

You turned around slowly with your guard up, as if in that way she wouldn’t notice the cookie between your teeth. You took it out of your mouth, hiding it behind your back.

“Yes?” You answered, remaining calm. You would not give yourself away when you already made this far. 

She closed the faucet, turning around to face you. Her eyes fell upon you, offering you an apologetic smile, which was weird, it was the kind of smile she gave you when she knew she was about to upset you. It wasn’t the kind of face someone who was about to scold you would make, she looked hesitant, almost worried. 

“I wanted to-... I mean, I wanted to ask you about something.” She said, stumbling with her own words. Her eyes were not focused on the plate on your hands, not even in your face completely, like she was trying to avoid your eyes. You felt a rush of nervousness running down your body and quickly dissipating, you didn’t know why. 

“About what?” You inquired, wiping the crumbs from your mouth. 

She sighed, playing with the towel in her hands to keep her hands busy. “I know you don’t want me to be all over your business, and I’m aware you are not a teenager anymore, but I can’t help worrying a little bit.” She explained, or at least she tried.

You frowned, more confused than ever. The conversation seemed to be taking a completely different path than you thought five seconds ago. 

“What do you mean, mom?” You said, taking a step forward, what did this have to do with the cookies?

Your mom pursed her lips, hesitating for a microsecond until the words finally came out of her mouth. “You are already a woman, darling, so I wanted to know if you are… cautious.” She pronounced, making emphasis on the last word and letting it sink in the air, but you still didn’t understand what she was talking about. 

“Cautious with what?” You must've looked like a total fool, asking once again what she meant, but your mother seemed to want you to understand without having to explain. 

She shifted in her place and you saw a flash of embarrassment in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared. “With Yoongi, I mean.” She said, making the name resonate in your ears “I know you’re both adults and you can do whatever you want, but I wanted to make sure that you are using protection.”

The realization fell upon you like a ton of bricks, each word she uttered felt like a different punch to your stomach. You opened your eyes widely, almost choking with your own spit.  “What? No, mom-” You wanted to interrupt her, but she was quick to talk over you. 

“I just want to make sure!” She said like she was apologizing “I don’t mean to be invasive, but it’s important to me that you’re being safe.”

You winced, feeling your face burning as you began stuttering “Me and Yoongi…-We are not, I mean-”

“Honey,” She stopped you, looking at you like she was a sex education teacher trying to explain why you should use protection. “I was not born yesterday, I see things happening, and believe me, I have no problem with you sharing a room, but I can’t help but ask.”

You were left completely speechless, and her constant interruptions while you were trying to finish a sentence were not helping. You racked your brain to find a logical explanation, but you were incapable of forming a decent sentence when she was looking at you like she was a doctor. The fact that your mother thought that you and Yoongi were having sex made your stomach squirm, and how she stated that it was obvious left your head spinning. Did she see you today in that closet and immediately assumed you were… fucking? God, that sounded so bad, so incredibly embarrassing. You still felt yourself blushing when you thought about that moment, you couldn’t even fathom the idea of seeing him without a shirt, less alone having sex with him.

“Mom, please. You don’t have to worry, really.” You tried to explain, but that was not enough to leave your mother content, by the look on her face you knew she didn’t believe you one bit. 

“I know I don’t have to worry!” She defended herself “Yoongi is a great boy, and I trust you… But you know, if things get a bit too frisky...” 

You closed your eyes shut, trying not to picture that in your mind, “God, mom, don’t use that word!” 

“Sorry! I mean… You know what I mean! I hope you’re using protection, no matter the circumstances.” 

You took a deep breath, ninety percent sure you were about to die of embarrassment, but with your last breath you made sure to be clear with your mom so tonight she would sleep peacefully “Believe me, mom. You don’t have to worry, nothing happened between Yoongi and me, I mean it.”

You could see it in her eyes, she was not convinced, and she was right to be so. That was a lie, and she knew it. What happened today was not “nothing”, and your mother knowing that only made your cheeks burn.

“Fine.” She said, struggling to let the conversation go “But if something does happen… Be safe, okay?”

You nodded repeatedly, trying to end the conversation as soon as possible. “Yes, of course.” You promised, but the idea of that ever happening sent a chill down your spine, you tried to shake that thought as far away as you possibly could. 

Your mom smiled and you took it as your cue to go. You tried to walk away, but before you reached the door, she spoke again. 

“And darling?” She said, making you turn around to see her. “I know you don’t like coming here without your brother, so thank you for coming anyway.”

“It’s fine, mom.” You said, and it was true. “At least Yoongi made up for it.”

She smirked, suppressing a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure.”

You rolled your eyes, in disbelief. “Yup, I’m going now, goodnight!” You said, finally escaping from the conversation. You heard your mom’s laugh in the distance as you closed the door behind you to run upstairs. 

Present

When you visited Simon’s apartment for the first time you could clearly notice it was a boy’s apartment from the lack of decoration, the lack of food in the fridge and the amount of boxes still unpacked weeks after moving in, but after you entered through the door tonight you saw a completely different version of it. It was a part of him that you missed out when you were gone, now there were plants on the living room and traces of Florence all over the place, like her purple slippers on the door and the purple toothbrush on the bathroom, her scrunchies on the entryway table and the framed picture of her beside them. You found it endearing, it was like a secret world made just for the two of them, a proper home. 

“When is Florence coming back?” You asked, leaving your bag on the couch. 

Simon took off his shoes, wandering through his house as he turned all the lights on “On Monday.” He replied.

You made a mental note to leave on Monday, even if Simon repeated a thousand times that it was okay for you to stay there on the way here, you didn’t want to intrude in his life. Instead you decided it would be easier to intrude in Minnie’s life, who’s apartment was big enough for the two of you, the only person she shared her apartment with was not an actual person, it was just her orange cat. 

 “I was supposed to go with her.” Your brother kept talking “But me and Yoongi are behind on some work and I had to stay… Well, I’m the one who’s behind, really. Yoongi is just helping me.”

You did not forget that Simon and Yoongi worked together at the same law firm downtown ever since they graduated. You knew that Yoongi got the job as soon as he graduated and then he was followed by your brother, after years it was still impossible to keep them apart, which had become a problem for you. 

You nodded but didn’t say anything about it, you reasoned that Yoongi was still working before arriving at your house, that explained the clothes, the shoes and the messy hair. You sighed just by thinking about it, at least dinner was over, at least your first encounter with Yoongi after four years wasn’t the worst thing that happened tonight. 

It was impossible, but you tried not to think about it too much. Yoongi’s presence was some kind of collateral effect that came with your life, it was too late to detach him from it, but you still tried to run away from it for years and years, only to come back and still find him here, talking to you like nothing ever happened, like you were still friends. 

Yoongi and you were always on different stages of your life, on different places, on different paths, but you seemed to agree on one thing: keep everything secret, no one needed to know what happened between the two of you, that was why Simon was always talking about Yoongi when you called him, that was why he couldn’t stop talking about it him now, he didn’t realize that you didn’t want to know anything about his best friend, you could never told him why.

You followed your brother to his guest room as he talked and talked about how smart Yoongi was and how he was capable of taking so many different cases and not dying in the process, how nice it was to work with his best friend and blablabla. You swore that if you heard the name one more time you would explode, so you decided to drastically change the subject of the conversation, you were willing to say anything to take his name out of your brother’s mouth. It took a second, but when the room fell silent, you looked at your feet, a bit unsure, gathering enough courage to finally say what you’ve been meaning to tell him since you arrived home.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about the proposal.” You softly spoke, and Simon, who was looking for a blanket in the closet in the corner of the room, turned his head to look at you. “I wanted to tell you in person, but I wasn’t planning for that article to come out, I didn’t want the whole world to know.”

Simon left the blanket on the bed, turning his body to look at you more clearly. “Mom told me that you think Ian leaked the news” He mentioned, and you nodded, at the risk of looking crazy. 

“Sally suggested it.” You confirmed, sitting on the bed “And if he didn’t, he’s fine with it anyway. He doesn’t care if people see me as this bitch who broke his heart, I might as well be.” 

He looked at the wall behind you, confused. “I think I missed a chapter here.” He said, sitting on the edge of the bed “Maybe more than one. Weren’t you in love with him?”

You wanted to grab a pillow, bury your face on it and scream as loud as you could, but for the sake of looking like a sane person you contained yourself. “I thought I was.” You said sincerely. you believed there was a time when you were sure you were in love with Ian, there were moments you thought that the good things about him could outweigh the bad things, but deep down you knew that if you were really in love you wouldn’t have to do all that math, you wouldn’t have to fight to ignore his arrogance and his big ego. 

“And when did you realize that you weren’t?” He continued to ask “Or when did you realize he was a jerk?”

You scoffed, bitterly. “I guess I always knew both, I tried to make it work regardless. I enjoyed being with him for some time, but then he planned an engagement party full of people I didn’t even know. He didn’t care to call any of you and expected me to say yes… Does that say more about him or me?”

He kept quiet, not knowing what to say, but you already knew the answer. 

“Ian was an asshole, kid. He was jealous of you, of your family, of your job, none of us understood why you were with him.” 

“That was not what I asked.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Ian was a prick, I get it, but I wasn’t much better either.”

“You can’t make me think you deserve each other, are you kidding?” He said. 

“I can’t blame him for everything, I made my own bed.” You huffed “I was terrible and it took me almost four years to snap out of it, that was not his fault.” 

“You are right, but you’re here now, aren’t you?” He reminded you, calmly. “Isn’t that what’s important?” 

You began to become exasperated “C’mon, Simon, don’t try to be nice, you’re supposed to be mad at me.” 

“I am mad at you.” He corrected you, sending a chill down your spine “You’re working all the time, you never call, never text back, we barely see you and the only way to know about your life is when we read some article saying you broke up with your boyfriend because he proposed to you, are you kidding? Of course I am mad, but because I miss you.”

You felt a wave of regret hitting all your senses, suddenly your eyes were burning with tears and you are not supposed to cry, you knew that, but the single tear that slid down your cheek was quicker than any thought that could cross your mind. Somehow, you wished your family hadn't noticed how absent you'd been these past few years, that they just shrugged and said “that’s just her” and forgot about it, it was not necessary to look at Simon’s face to know that he couldn’t just forget about it. He loved you, your mother loved you too, you didn’t have a family that you would want to run away from, but you did it anyway,

“I’m sorry…” You murmured, looking at him with eyes full of regret. “It wasn’t you, it wasn’t any of you, it was me. I was so angry when I left, I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You wouldn’t trade your career for anything, it was one of those few things that made you happy, but after years of trying to convince yourself that every decision you made for the last few years was the right choice, this was the first time that you admitted that maybe you weren’t thinking clearly when you decided to move to the city and never look back. 

Simon frowned, thinking about it twice before asking “Were you angry, bug?”

You tilted your head, giving him a sad smile, hoping that it could explain everything.”I was quite angry, yes.” You answered “Not at you, though.” 

“At mom?” 

“Maybe a little bit at mom, yeah.” You laughed, shaking your head. You sighed deeply, letting the silence sit in the room for a moment before you could put in order all the things you wanted to say. “I remember when I told her I left college she looked at me like I finally lost my mind, it was like she saw it coming, you know? Me, again, being lost, it was not a surprise, but rather something she would expect of me. I know she was just worried and I know I can be a lot sometimes, but it hurt anyway. I don't blame anyone, Simon, but all I needed was someone to believe in me and no one did. I had to leave.” Something ached inside your chest because that was not the whole truth, but it was all you could say tonight, you couldn’t say that Yoongi was also one of the reasons. “I’m not trying to justify myself.” You mumbled “I’m just saying that I was so angry that I didn’t realize how many mistakes I made.” 

The silence that took over the room was so strong it made your stomach squirm. You shifted in your place, but Simon stayed there, with his gaze lost somewhere in the room as he processed what you just said. 

“I always believed in you, you know that?” He spoke, causing your head to snap up towards him. “I know a lot of people tried to tell you that you weren’t, but you’ve always been special and I’ve always seen it.” 

“I know you did.” You sighed. “But I was being so stubborn, I walked away and I’m so sorry.”

“I know you think you’re too much, but you’re not.” He continued talking “Maybe mom just wanted everything to be simple, for her kids to go to college, graduate, get a job and a home and never have to worry about whether they are choosing right or wrong ever again. But you’re not simple, bug, you’re extraordinary and talented and too brilliant to stay still, but you’re not too much, not for me.” 

You held back a sob, feeling ridiculous. “I’m sorry.” You said, once again, because you haven’t said it enough times.

“It’s okay now, I mean it.” Simon reached for your hand to squeeze it tightly. 

You sniffed “God, I should be comforting you for being a bad sister, not the other way around” 

“I don’t need to be comforted, I’m okay as long as you’re here.” He tried to cheer you up. “And you were not a bad sister, you were sad and acted shitty.” 

You smiled, because you told Simon that you were angry but instead he heard that you were sad, you didn’t feel like correcting him because he wasn’t so wrong about that. 

“I’m sorry.” You repeated once again like a scratched record, making him laugh. “Are you still mad at me?”

“No.” he replied, “But only if you promise not to disappear again.” 

You raised your hand, extending your pinky finger in front of his face. “I promise you, Simon, I will not disappear again.”

Simon tangled his pinky with yours, making your promise impossible to be broken, and your soul felt at ease for a moment.

“Fine, good enough for me.” he said, throwing himself back onto the bed. “Now I want to hear everything about the proposal, and I want you to describe to me exactly the face he made when you said no.”

You laughed, throwing yourself on the bed the same way he did and tried to summarize the last three years in just one night. Only for today, your body did you a favor and your head stopped spinning at least for now. Something began to feel right.

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve

You could hear the radio at the end of the hallway in your grandmother’s room, softly playing jazz to cancel out the outside noise. Not everyone in the house liked the radio, your cousins always said that it was annoying and kept them awake, but it was still one of those old habits of your grandfather that remained in the house even if he was no longer here, so you liked it. The music inevitably seeped under the door of your room, Yoongi hummed some Frank Sinatra song as if he knew the lyrics to it, making you laugh and beg him to stop. 

You know it’s almost midnight, as your roommate just informed you, but you didn’t want to turn the lights off yet. All of the cookies already disappeared from the plate, Yoongi was laying on his side the same way you were and the lamp on the nightstand warmly lighted up his brown eyes, you couldn’t help but feel you were not supposed to be in such presence, his messy hair and the loose white shirt he wore to sleep, his sleepy eyes, his pink lips; it looked just like the kind of view that was bound to haunt you forever. 

The nightstand that separated you was not far enough to stop that pull from the string in your chest, not when he was looking at you like that, his gaze fixated on yours like he didn’t want to leave you awake alone, and neither did you. You felt yourself shaking because, what was the version of you that existed when you were asleep? And what happened inside his head when you were not there? What was happening inside his head right now?

Did you cross his mind the same way he crossed yours? When you finally fell asleep, would he remember that moment in the closet or would it be just water under the bridge? Did he spend every waking second of the last seven hours thinking of that fleeting moment when you could almost feel his lips on yours?

Or was that just you?

The night was fading away, your eyelids were getting heavy but you still couldn’t find the will to sleep. 

“I’m sorry for today.” You almost whispered, gathering enough courage to mention the little accident “I’m sorry for dragging you with me to the closet.”  

He smiled softly, closing his eyes for a second. “It’s okay, it was cozy.” He teased you, making you groan in annoyance. He laughed loudly at your reaction, annoying you even more. “I’m serious, it was okay.” 

“Was it really?” You asked him “Wasn’t I being silly?”

“It's okay being silly sometimes.” He assured you, but that did not ease that anxious feeling in your stomach. He seemed to see it in your face. “What’s wrong with being a little silly? I would’ve run from your grandmother, too.” 

You bitterly laughed, covering your face with the palms of your hands “Stop, I’m being immature.” You groaned “I’ve got to get my shit together.”

“C’mon Pinky, you have to stop with that.” He said. 

“I would if I could.” You remarked.

“Didn’t you say you were going to get your shit together after the holidays?” He reminded you “Why are you worrying right now?”

Yoongi was right, that was the initial plan, but ever since you came back home everything was pointing in different directions and it was beginning to drive you crazy, it was like the universe was forcing you to think about it, it was not letting you run away from it, not even temporarily. First, it was Yoongi, showing up every few days at your doorstep, grabbing your hand, squeezing your legs, whispering things in your ear like he wanted you to go insane, it was Minnie, offering you a job, talking about The Alley, saying you were supposed to be on the big screen, and then it was your mother, expecting you to make up your mind once for all. And still, you had your whole life ahead, why were you worrying right now?

“I don’t know…” You sighed “What if I come back next year and the plan was not good enough? What if I end up hiding again from everyone?”

Yoongi shifted in bed, curious “Do you have a plan, Pinky?” The nickname rolled off his tongue softly, you swimmed in the tenderness of his voice, something about it made you want to tell him everything.

“Not really, I mean… It all sounds so bad.” 

“You have a plan.” He affirmed, smiling “I want to hear it.”

“It’s not a plan.” You contradicted yourself “If it were a plan, it would suck.”

Yoongi hummed “It’s something like a plan, then.”

You scrunched your nose, unsure. “Yeah, but not quite like a plan, something like a…” You said, but the words died on your lips before you got the chance to finish. 

“Something like a dream, then?” He continued to ask, but you shook your head.

“Something close.” You expressed, unable to find the right words to explain your thoughts. You stayed silent for a second, believing he was beginning to lose interest in the topic, until the words slipped past his lips like a spell.

“Something like a wish.” He pronounced, and he was not asking, it was almost like he knew. 

You thought there was not much difference between a dream and a wish, but in this case, there was. 

You smiled at him, nodding, somehow you felt you could trust him with all your secrets “Yes, like a wish.” You affirmed, and it felt like a confession. “I don’t know Yoongi, have you ever stayed up late and planned something but when you woke up next morning you felt it was stupid? Well, I do that every night.”

“I’m sure that whatever it is, it’s not stupid.” He said, making your heart swell.  

“I would like to believe you…” You murmured “Do you have a dream, Yoongi? Something you’re too scared to wish for?”

You could see him think about it for a moment, but his eyes were still connected with yours. Oh, how you wished to be inside his mind right now, read his thoughts, witness his dreams, know all his secrets.

“Yes.” He confirmed, “But I can’t talk about them out loud right now.” 

You laughed, biting your bottom lip. “Okay, fair. What about those you can say out loud?”

“I’m not going to tell you because you’re going to laugh.” He pouted, making you frown. 

“Laugh?” You repeated, sounding more offended than you actually were. “I would never, c’mon.”

He raised an eyebrow, testing you “You sure?”

“Of course, don’t piss me off.” 

“Fine, fine.” He let out a long sigh, believing you. “My wish would be… to stop time for a while. Sometimes I believe I can’t think when time’s running, all I do is study and come home to my mom, there is very little time that I have for myself.”  

You felt your chest tighten, but it didn't surprise you that Yoongi felt this way. He already mentioned to you that, even if taking care of his mother didn’t feel like a burden, he still felt he was missing out on so many things. 

“And what would you do if time stopped right now?” 

Yoongi shifted his eyes for a moment, and you almost missed it but you saw it, the urge to hold back and the words getting stuck on his throat. 

“Mmm…” He hummed, “I’ll go to the beach.”

“In winter?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t care.”

“And where else?” You continued to ask.

“Honestly? I’ll go anywhere but home.” He confessed.

“What’s wrong with home?” You of all people knew exactly what was wrong with home, but you wanted to hear why he thought that. 

“Home it’s okay,” He waved off. “It just feels like I spent my whole life there. I went to college expecting something to change, and a lot of things did but I still feel like something else is supposed to happen, like there's something else for me to see.” 

It was looking in a mirror, it was the same thing you’ve told him a few days ago but in other words, in another tone. Yoongi sounded resigned, like his wish was clearly something that was not meant to happen and he needed to come to terms with it, nothing could ever make you more sad. 

“There’s plenty for you to see, Yoongi, are you kidding?” You chuckled  “You’re twenty five, you’re barely grasping life.” 

He scoffed, bitterly, “It’s not that easy.” 

“Of course it is easy, do you know it’s not necessary to stop time to go to the beach?” 

“I know, Pinky.” He agreed, “But what does it feel like running away?” 

“Running away would be so bad?” You asked, hearing the question echoing in the room, letting you know that maybe it was something you weren’t supposed to wonder out loud. Yoongi didn’t dare to ask such a question, but you seemed determined to make his wish come true, maybe you were the only one who could do it. 

“Don’t ask me.” He said, looking at the ceiling to avoid your gaze.  “Don’t act like running away isn’t your wish as well” 

You snorted, immediately grabbing a pillow and threatening to punch him in the face with it, but Yoongi is quick to cover his face with his arms.

“Don’t!” He protested, laughing.

 “Don’t expose me like that!” You whined, embarrassed. 

“What, am I wrong?” 

“Maybe you’re not…” You dared to answer, leaving the pillow on the bed again “But how do you know?”

“I told you, Pinky.” He murmured “I just know.”

You shook your head in denial, how could it be? Were you really that transparent or Yoongi really just knew? 

“What else do you know?” You continued to ask, curious. 

He pretended to think about it, pouting his lips and looking at the ceiling as if the answers were to fall from the sky. His eyes shifted towards yours, tilting his head “I know that you would run away to the beach with me if I asked you to.” 

A giggle was built in your throat, you laughed nervously as you tried to decipher if he was joking or not, even if Yoongi could see right through you, it was a bit difficult for you to do the same with him. 

“I don’t know about that.” You said, ignoring the way your heart was beating against your ribcage. “Do you mean in… an hypothetical scenario?” 

“It’s a hypothetical proposal.” He answered.

“I’ll have to check my schedule first.” 

A smirk tugged from the corner of his lips. “What about… two weeks away from now?”

You did the calculation in your head, but you already knew that by then Yoongi would have to go back to class, so you doubted. “What about the semester?” You asked, trying to be the voice of reason. “Your last semester, might I add.”

“That could wait.” He did not hesitate “Isn’t it part of running away? Leaving things behind?”

You laughed “And what would people say about me, then? That I made you leave college, nuh-hu.” 

“Here we go again with that.” He rolled his eyes “I don’t care what people say and, besides, I’m not leaving college, I’m… postponing it.” 

That didn’t sound like the Yoongi you knew at all, but then again, this whole conversation didn’t sound like anything Yoongi from the past would say. A thousand questions crossed your mind, like what do you do on the beach in winter? Wouldn’t being alone be a problem? What are you going to talk about, where are you going to stay? If you say yes, would he grab your hand when you crossed the street, would he try to kiss you again? 

You crossed your arms, thinking about it, not daring to agree right away, but how could you say no? When he was looking at you, convinced that you would say yes. 

You opened your mouth, not sure what you were going to say but still ready to answer, and before you could utter a word, he interrupted you. “Run away with me to the beach, Pinky.” He asked in a soft tone, looking at you with warm eyes and warm words, making your heart shake violently in your chest “Only for now, I promise I’ll make it worth it.”

You smiled, ignoring that little person inside you that tried to warn you about something, but you weren’t sure about what because all you could feel was your heart racing. “Fine, I’ll follow you for now.” You simply said, trying to sound as cool as possible “Let’s run.” 

In that moment you forgot about years and years of disappointment and failed dreams, failed wishes, you ignored the reality, deciding everything was false and true at the same time. You didn’t need to look at the clock to know that it was midnight, something inside your chest sparkled and told you it was time to make your wish, and for some reason, you listened. It echoed in every corner of your mind, your wish was the beach in winter. 

Four days before New Year’s Eve

Two weeks ago, when you bought Yoongi’s Christmas gift, you thought about it like a farewell. You stood in the shop and talked to the tall man with the long face and chose the gift as you tried to convince yourself this was a way of saying goodbye to him. 

That Christmas morning Yoongi tore the brown wrapping paper and opened the long box to find that you decided to give him a red tie. It wasn’t bright red, it was deep dark red, red like a rose. It came with a notebook and a pen with his initials on them. In your mind, you were giving away that version of him that lived in your head and clung to your thoughts and clung to your heart, that version of him you could never let go. Yoongi was about to graduate, he was about to become officially a lawyer, an adult, a man, he wasn’t that boy you fell in love with years ago, he was a wish you had to let in the past and your gift was just a way to remind you of it. You had a purpose, a plan, you had everything figured out until he decided to ask you to run away with him, until you said yes.

His gifts for you were a vinyl copy of Is This It by The Strokes, two tickets to watch When Harry Met Sally at the Alley the following week and a pair of red gloves for the rest of the winter. 

Yoongi looked at you and smiled like you both knew something everyone else in the room didn’t. “The gloves match with the tie.” He had said.

So now you had no plan, what you did have though, was a bunch of pictures of several locations Yoongi thought of booking for your trip to the beach. You were doomed. 

You thought the only person in this town who could possibly understand what you were going through was Minnie, the only person in the world who knew about your feelings for Yoongi, and the only person who you could call a friend at the moment. 

You weren’t expecting to see Minnie again when you saw her at The Alley a few weeks ago, but she had different plans; it was like she forced you to be her friend again. You tried to stop thinking you didn’t deserve it, you had to swallow your guilt and accept her friendship, and after a few five hour calls filled with gossip, you ultimately decided not to be against it, even if she called you everyday and still talked nonstop about that audition in the city, talking with her felt like you were still fifteen, and you liked it.

That night, as she raided her closet looking for a dress for you to wear at the New Year’s party at The Alley, you sat on her bed and gave her a run down of everything that happened with Yoongi since you came back home, it didn’t take her much to get you to admit that you were still in love with your brother’s best friend, so you might as well be honest and tell her everything. 

“You’re being stupid right now, sweetheart.” You heard her muffled voice from inside her closet. The next thing you saw was a piece of fabric flying in the air and landing at your feet. You grabbed it, putting in front of you to reveal a short pink dress that you would never, ever wear. 

You snorted, leaving the dress on the pile of clothes that you already rejected. You seemed to forget that Minnie was not the most adequate person to talk about “boy stuff”, perhaps because she was way too honest. You didn’t know whether it was a mistake or not to tell her about the trip to the beach, because all the questions she was asking and all the things she was stating to be true were thoughts you were desperately trying to avoid. 

“He wants to fuck you, I don’t know how else to tell you this.” She said, walking over the clothes to make her way to you. You threw yourself on the bed, covering your face with your palms “I mean, I wish I could only tell you that he’s head over heels for you, and honey, that he is, but he also wants to fuck you.”

You groaned, kicking your feet. “God, you make me want to throw up.”

“Of excitement, I’m assuming.” She affirmed “I’m telling you, there’s no way you’re going on a trip alone and come back without having fucked.”

You looked at her, begging her to stop talking, but she was not finished. “Stop!”

“Picture this.” She ignored you, forming a rectangle with her fingers and looking right through it as if she was directing a scene from a movie “First scenario, a storm causes the power to go out, there’s no electricity, you have no way to be warm so you sleep in the same bed to warm up, there’s tension, you look at each other and kiss, you fuck.”

“Okay, I don’t see that happening.” You shook your head. 

“Second scenario, you just finished showering, you go out of the bathroom wearing only a towel because you think he’s not there, but he is! He sees you, you kiss, you fuck.”

“That’s not… That sounds like porn.” 

“Third scenario!” She exclaimed. 

“Fine, that’s enough.” You stopped her, waving your arms in the air. 

“No, you have to prepare! And when it happens you will know that I was right.” Your friend insisted, but you refused to let any of those ideas in your mind. 

“What if you’re not?” You wondered “What if he just wants to be my friend and I’m just imagining everything?”

“But you are not, are you kidding?” She laughed “That man is clearly in love with you, why are you convincing yourself otherwise?”

You felt Minnie’s body sitting right next to you, causing you to sit back on the bed to look at her face to face. You were sure you were about to start crying out of frustration. “I don’t know, what if I get hurt?”

Minnie pursed her lips “Baby, I can’t answer that question at all, but you have to take the chance.” 

You groaned, annoyed. “I don’t want to take the chance.” You whined “I was fine before seeing him again, I wasn’t even thinking of him.”

“That is a lie,” She laughed, mocking you. “We both know you never stopped being in love with him, now you have him in the palm of your hand, do something.” 

Minnie stood up again, looking for another piece of clothing on the floor as you kept silent, wondering if any of that could be possible. Did you really have him in the palm of your hand? Was he in love with you and you were being stupid for believing that he wanted to be just friends?

“What should I do?” You asked her, hoping that the redhead in the room knew all the secrets of the universe. 

“Invite him to the New Year’s party and wear a hot outfit, how about that?” Minnie offered, like that could answer all your prayers. 

“Would that resolve all my problems?” You joked, talking to the sky. 

“C’mon, he literally asked you to run away with him, don’t you find that a little bit hot? Don’t you really think that was not code for ‘I want to fuck you’?” 

You laughed “Yoongi is not like that!” You protested. 

“I hate to break it to you, but you are hot.” She insisted, throwing another piece of clothing at your face. “And if Yoongi is not blind, he knows that, and let’s not forget the most important fact here.” 

“Which is…?”

“He’s in love with you, let’s start wrapping our heads around that.” She simply said “Once that’s done, you invite him to the New Year’s eve party at The Alley, you wear a hot outfit and confront him about it, tell him to stop playing around.”

You grabbed the dress Minnie just threw at you, which was another short dress, but this one was actually cute. It was black and was covered in black sparkly sequins with thin straps, you were definitely going to freeze to death if you wore that, but you were sure this fitted the description of “hot outfit”. 

Minnie was right, you couldn’t keep running away from the facts, everything was laid on the table, you didn’t need more proof to know that Yoongi felt something for you, even if you weren’t sure if it was the same that you felt for him, you needed to gather enough courage to find out what it was. 

You grabbed the phone in your pocket and opened Yoongi’s chat, you decided to invite him to the New Year’s party. 

taglist: @kingofbodyrolls @overtherainbow35 @namin13 @p34rluv @moonchild1 @yoongisoftface @namgihours @idkjustlovingbts @yoongisducky @bangtansmauyeondan @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804 @yoongibaybee @hsbongwater

[lost-and-ephemeral]

Series: In Her Shadow, pt.2 (ft. main trio)

Part 1 | Part 2

Slowly but surely she replaced you in his heart.

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)

Tags: angst, hurt no comfort, reader is not MC, breakup

A/N: I recieved a lot of comments and request asking me to continue, so here we are! I've tried my best. Ty everyone, I appreciate every message, even if it would be hard to mention every single one of them in this post. Also, if you want to be tagged in future fics, let me know!

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 

Rafayel

You began to notice that Rafayel was spending less and less time with you, choosing his bodyguard over you.

It wasn't obvious at first, yeah, but as time went on, everything became so noticeable that you couldn't ignore it anymore. Especially when he forgot about your plans with him and didn't even consider apologizing for it.

The smell of someone else's perfume in his studio, the way Rafayel would leave you at home and take her to all the important events because "you probably don't like spending time among journalists and annoying guests." It seems that he didn't even notice the moment when you were completely estranged from each other.

And all your attempts to talk to him about it ended with nothing.

"She's my bodyguard," he'd say. "No wonder I take her everywhere I go. Is there anything wrong with that?"

Yes, a lot of things were wrong.

But he was completely unwilling to notice it, and you were tired of collecting the shards of your broken heart from the floor day after day. Those warm feelings that brought a sense of lightness and happiness in your heart suddenly turned into pure torture.

You had to end it all, even if it'll hurt so much.

When you arrived at his studio this morning, you came face to face with "Ms. Bodyguard" herself. She was just about to leave, and didn't even hesitate to embrace your beloved. Right in front of you.

Maybe you would've exploded from all these negative emotions, if you had any strength left to be mad or to cry. But there was only emptiness in your heart.

You became strangers to each other.

"I'm breaking up with you," you said without any regret and pushed him away as he tried to hug you. "I don't want to be a second choice after your precious bodyguard."

"W-wait, why? What... But I didn't do anything!" he replied confused, apparently not realizing how much he's been hurting you all this time.

"Maybe that's the point. That you'd do anything for her, but not for me."

He looked at you with the same confusion in his eyes, trying to figure out if it was a joke, but you continued before leaving this place forever.

"You were everything to me, Rafayel. But for you, I was just a small episode of your life. I'm tired. You've been spending all your free time with her, like I didn't exist. It'll be better this way. Goodbye."

No matter how long he was calling your name, asking you to stop, to come back and talk with him, you didn't.

Zayne

Loving a cardiac surgeon with his busy schedule is hard.

But it's even harder when he no longer cares about your existence and spends a significant amount of time with his childhood friend.

After Zayne forgot about your reservation at the restaurant, making you feel like you were the last fool in this world, some more time has passed.

Yeah, he apologized. No, he didn't start spending less time with his "friend".

It's hard to count how many evenings you spent alone when he stayed late at work for her or was invited to a "friendly" dinner with her. But it happened often enough so finally your love turned into suffering.

At first you tried to convince yourself that you're too jealous and he's just happy to finally reunite with someone close to him from his youth. You care about your friends too, don't you?

But it only got worse.

All your plans were constantly adjusted to his friend's wishes. She wants to take him to a cafe at the same time you were planning to go to the cinema? "Sorry, love, let's reschedule our date for another day". You've made him his favorite dinner? Too bad, his friend already brought him dinner at work and he's not hungry.

Eventually you started feeling like he stopped enjoying your time together and just continued to exist in the same apartment with you out of habit.

Talking didn't get you anywhere, because Zayne didn't notice how much he was hurting you (or he simply didn't want to notice it) with his actions and only distanced himself from you even more.

At some point you felt like he put an ice wall around himself again.

He stayed late again this evening, completely forgetting his promise to spend time with you. You packed your things with tears in your eyes, ready to say goodbye to life with Zayne once and for all.

And he showed up at the doorstep of his apartment just as you were ready to leave.

"What's going on?" his voice didn't betray a shred of emotion. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to leave you and your lovely friend together so I don't have to be an unwanted addition to your life."

Zayne was taken aback at this statement and was about to say something, but you interrupted him.

"You were the one who brought happiness and comfort into my life. You were the one who made me feel loved and wanted. But now I realize that I wasn't good enough for you. Goodbye."

You walked away and closed the door behind you, leaving him all alone.

Xavier

Before, you without a doubt would've said that your relationship with Xavier was the ultimate dream.

But now it wasn't actually true.

Yes, your beloved still showed care and attention every spare minute he had. Just not to you. It seemed as if his colleague started to occupy his every thought.

During dinner, on a walk, after missions. He was always talking about her, how strong she is, and how lucky he is that she chose him as her partner. His eyes were shining with delight you had never seen before.

You were happy for him, but only until it crossed the line. Only until you started to feel like he was in love with her, not with you.

One day you found yourself completely miserable. Xavier texted you that he would be late because they had "decided to celebrate another successful mission". Except that you were usually the one he shared his joy with. But things have changed.

Even though you were the brightest star in his world, you were inevitably lost behind the glow of the Moon.

You were trying to be better, to be more interesting. Trying to reach an unattainable ideal. But you couldn't. After all, maybe you were never meant to be together if it turned out like this. Maybe you weren't enough for him.

You couldn't remember the last day you didn't cry. Sometimes alone, sometimes locking yourself in the bathroom after another conversation about this "super-strong collegue". But Xavier didn't seem to notice it at all.

"I thought maybe you'd be interested to know what happens during missions," he said when you brought up this painful topic.

And, yes, you were interested. But all you heard was, "She took down that Wanderer so easily, I couldn't take my eyes off her." Or, "she's so good with her weapon, it's amazing."

He distanced himself from you so much that you hardly spent any time together.

He wasn't even home the day you left.

Xavier sent you a message saying he'd be late again. As usual, with her. Even though he promised to have a movie night and you had already prepared everything you needed for it.

Maybe it's even better if you don't see the look in his eyes the moment you tell him you're breaking up with him. You packed your things and left a note on the table, next to the snacks you bought.

"Maybe in another universe I would be worthy of you so you could look at me with the same adoration. I can see that you enjoy spending time with her much more. And we should break up so you don't torment my heart anymore. Goodbye."

You glanced around his apartment one last time before leaving it forever.

♡ tags: @skyowlz @prettytemis @aishasreality @randompersonwhoexist @kreishin @reni502 @moonyzstarz @chin-chii

[joelscruff]

don't think we could help it (joel miller x reader) 18+

here it is!!! the much anticipated sequel to "you know i don't mean it" aka the soft!dom joel fic that somehow hit 1k in like 3 days???? truly wild. i listened to what you guys had to say and decided to turn this into a little series/collection. the timeline won't necessarily always be linear but i'd really like to explore these two a bit more. i hope you enjoy! btw, i now have a tag list so if you'd like to be notified when i update this series/post fic in general, interact with that post! summary: joel has a new idea he'd like to share with you (and you're more than willing to try it out). rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: smut, age gap (reader is mid 20s, joel is mid 50s), praise kink galore, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), fingering, lap sitting, teasing, edging, orgasm denial, comeplay, come eating, clothed male and unclothed female, uhhh if i forgot something pls lmk word count: 4.1k | ao3

This is new. Beyond new, it's insane. He's got you laid completely bare on his lap, legs wide, the palms of his hands pressed flush against your inner thighs as he holds you open. The cold air is a relief against the heat, not only for your core but for your mind as you try to keep your thoughts clear despite them becoming more and more muddled the longer he holds you like this.

Since your outburst the last time you'd decided you wouldn't bring it up again, not until he brought it up himself. You'd decided you could deal with it; you didn't really need him to fuck you, it was just one of the many desires you'd have to push away and forget about. Clearly his boundaries went deeper than you'd thought, but he'd said he wanted you and that was enough. Whatever the reason for holding back, for not allowing himself to actually touch you, you could deal with not knowing.

But then tonight happened.

It's been one week since your last patrol with him, the patrol where he confirmed his desire for you, and you'd been expecting the usual routine as you situated yourself on the couch. He'd slowly approached you, expression unreadable.

"I wanna try something different," he'd said quietly.

You'd scrambled to sit up, eyes shining with interest as you perched yourself on the arm of the couch, "Yeah?"

He took one more step and then he was directly in front of you, standing tall and broad while you sat there feeling small and vulnerable, unsure what he was thinking. Slowly, carefully, he brought one of his hands up and traced your jawline with his fingertips, making you tremble. It was the first time he'd actually touched your face, the first time he'd allowed his skin to brush against yours apart from when his fingers had slid inside your mouth last time. It was heaven.

You'd closed your eyes involuntarily and leaned into his touch, practically purring at the feeling. You heard his breath hitch, the back of his fingers stroking your cheek as his thumb found a place at your mouth, tracing the shape of your lips. Without much thought you'd opened it, inviting him to slip his thumb inside. He'd exhaled deeply and you'd opened your eyes again to watch the cogs turn in his head, watch him decide what you deserved and what you didn't.

To your disappointment he didn't slide his thumb inside your mouth; instead, he pulled his hand completely away from you. You whined at the loss, shoulders falling as you peered up at him pathetically.

"Joel," you whispered, but your words ended there; you didn't know what to say, didn't know if any sort of protest would end whatever he'd decided would be different tonight altogether.

He just shook his head and stepped away from you, sitting on his end of the couch. He didn't put his feet up or lean back like usual, he sat on the edge of the third cushion and began to palm himself through his jeans. You watched with aroused interest, biting your lip as you gazed at the long shape of his cock, hard and firm.

You still weren't sure what he was thinking but you stayed frozen where you were, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

"I was thinking," he finally broke the silence, not looking at you as he thumbed the wet head through the denim, a small dark spot appearing in the fabric, "That you could sit in my lap tonight."

The rules are as follows:

touch yourself the way he tells you to.

stop touching yourself when he tells you to stop.

come only when he tells you that you can.

he will not be touching you.

You shiver in his lap now, looking at yourself leaking down your legs and soaking his jeans. God, you'd had no idea you were this touch starved; just the feeling of him beneath you, his fingers splayed firmly against your thighs, you think you could come without even touching yourself. But those aren't the rules.

"One finger," he breathes, tickling the side of your neck where he's resting his head, watching, "Nice and deep, lemme see."

You obey, bringing your shaky hand to your centre and pushing your middle finger inside to the hilt, exhaling deeply and trying your hardest to avoid even brushing against your clit for fear you might start to come already.

He hums in approval, breath hot against your skin, "Now pull it out," he murmurs, "Real slow, show me."

You slowly remove your finger, biting down on your lip. It comes out drenched and shiny, slick with your wetness.

"And back in," his voice is like honey, slow and sweet. You push your finger back inside, "And out again, just like that. Good girl."

You moan at your pet name; it's the first time he's used it tonight and you've been waiting to hear him say it. It's hard to believe how easy it is for some simple words to make you completely submit to him, hard to believe how badly you want to be good for him, to do exactly what he tells you. Earlier today you'd given him shit for forgetting to put the safety on your gun when he'd handed it to you. That version of yourself doesn't exist here.

"In and out," he whispers, sending waves of tingles up and down your spine, "Count to ten for me."

"One," you begin to count your slow thrusts, voice shaky and breathless, "T-two."

He flexes his hands on your thighs, curling his fingers into the flesh. For someone who's never actually touched you before up until this point, he's sure getting his fill now; you'll have marks tomorrow, impressions of hand prints where he held you open. The thought makes you throb.

"Nine," you whimper, fucking yourself once more, "Ten."

"Good girl," he praises again, nosing your shoulder gently.

The room feels stuffy despite being so large and open, and your whole body feels like it's on fire. You can feel the tension building in your lower belly; how the fuck are you so close already? You've never been able to get off this easily and now you feel like you could break at any second, directly contradicting one of the rules.

"Can I take my shirt off?" you ask quietly, hoping you're not crossing a line, "I'm really warm."

He chuckles, "You just wanna be naked on my lap."

"...Maybe."

"Add your second finger and I'll think about it," he murmurs against your neck, "Show me you can be good."

You swallow, nodding and slowly slipping another finger inside.

"You're so wet," he says, a genuinely awestruck air in his voice, "All this from just sittin' in my lap?"

They're not just words, he means them. He's questioning himself, questioning whether he's really capable of making you fall apart like this. And he is; you can't believe he doesn't see what you see, doesn't see how sexy and alluring he is, how he doesn't even have to touch you to give you an orgasm.

"Yes," you moan softly, leaning your head back and feeling his nose against your throat, "Feels so good, Joel, you have no idea," you plunge your fingers in and out, closing your eyes and shivering at the way his cock throbs beneath you, "I love feeling you."

"I know you do," he whispers, "Been thinkin' about it all week, wanted to give you somethin' more, you deserve it."

"I do?" the thought makes you smile; it pleases you that he thinks you deserve this, that he thought about it and wanted to do it for you.

God, you really are fucked.

"You do," his fingers stroke your inner thighs gently, tickling your skin, the tips of his thumbs brushing lightly against your outer lips. "Plus, I wanted to see this pretty little pussy a bit closer," his breath is so hot and wet against your skin, making your whole body shake as you continue to fuck yourself, "And now you can feel my cock, can't you? Just like you wanted, but without breakin' the rules."

You make the rules, you want to say, squeezing your eyes shut tighter, you can change them. You could fuck me right now if you wanted to. But you don't say anything, knowing deep down that asking for it again won't get you anywhere. This is a part of it now, a new factor in this thing between the two of you, and you know he'll hold it over you to keep the control on his side. You have to admit, he knows what he's doing.

"Third finger, pretty girl," he whispers and you do as you're told, adding your third and clenching tightly around all three digits, "Look at that, so full for me."

His cock throbs again, heavy and thick against your ass, and you keen at the fact that this is just as hot for him as it is for you. He's not doing this for your benefit, he genuinely enjoys it. He wants you.

"Thumb on your clit," he breathes, and your eyes open again, wide and unsure.

"I'll come," you whimper, feeling slightly ashamed at your admission, "If I touch my clit I already know I'm gonna come."

He smiles against your skin, "Really? From just a little touch?"

"Y-yes."

"So if I..." he trails off and suddenly removes his right hand from your thigh, moving it closer to where you're open and full.

"Oh my God," you breathe, voice barely a squeak, "Yes, yes, please touch it, please."

"Where? Where do you need me to touch?"

"Joel," you groan, shutting your eyes again and trembling in his lap.

"Use your words, pretty girl, tell me where you need me to touch you."

"My clit," you practically hiss, "Touch my clit, please."

You've stopped moving your fingers entirely, laying still inside of you, keeping you wide. He doesn't admonish you, just twirls his index finger teasingly near your pussy and smiles against your neck.

"But that's against the rules," he murmurs.

"Fuck the rules," you practically growl.

You regret it instantly, watching as his hand returns to your thigh and you hear him laugh lightly in your ear. Scowling, you let out a long groan of contempt and pull your fingers out, leaning back against his chest pitifully. The buttons on his shirt dig into your flesh, reminding you that he's still fully clothed. It somehow makes you wetter.

"For someone who claims to be my good girl, you're not being very good tonight, are you?"

"I am," you pout, "I told you, I'm just really oveheated."

"Poor baby," he whispers, and you watch his hands lift from your thighs to tug at the hem of your shirt, "Let's take this off, then. Arms up."

You oblige, lifting up your arms and allowing him to pull your shirt over your head. He freezes for a moment, the material bunching in his hand as he makes a fist.

"You didn't wear a bra?" it's barely audible and you smirk.

"No, I don't wear one when I'm on patrol with you."

"Ever?"

"Ever."

"Christ," he tosses the shirt to the floor and places his hands back on your inner thighs, pulling your legs apart more than they already are and pressing the thick length of his cock deeper against you. "You know, good girls don't do shit like that."

"Then maybe you need to punish me," you challenge, half joking but also not, wondering if maybe he'll finally give you what you want.

"Maybe I do," he mutters, "Fingers. Back in. Now."

You obey, pushing your fingers back inside and waiting for his next order, the tension of your orgasm still building in your belly. What is he gonna do? For a moment you're fearful that he'll stop touching you, leave you there to get yourself off without a second glance. You start to fuck yourself again, biting down on your lip and doing everything you can not to stimulate your clit.

His hands move again and you gasp in shock as he brings them to your bare breasts, cupping them in his palms. You lean back further into his touch, basking in the way his strong and wide torso envelops yours, holds you firm as you shove your fingers in and out.

"Well, aren't these pretty?" he croons in your ear, thumbing your nipples lightly, "Knew they would be."

The fact that he's thought about what your breasts look like makes your skin flush even warmer as you squirm in his lap, feeling small and breakable in his embrace. He rotates your nipples with his fingers, humming softly to himself in satisfaction. You continue to fuck yourself as you await your potential punishment...whatever it might be.

"You wanna come, don't you, baby?" he asks you softly, and you nod frantically, pathetically, "But do you think you deserve to come?"

You hesitate, brow furrowing, "P-probably not."

He laughs again, genuine and warm, "At least you're honest."

He lets go of your breasts and palms your stomach, the width of his hands giving you butterflies. He gently traces your belly button, your pubic bone, watching goosebumps rise on your flesh as he trails his fingertips along your skin.

"So pretty," he murmurs, hand dipping to your mound, the tips of his fingers only inches away from your clit, "Jesus, you're swollen."

You bite down on your lip, trying not to make any embarrassingly pathetic sounds; you can practically feel his eyes on your cunt and it makes you want to scream.

"Take your fingers out," he whispers, and you obey, hand shaking.

"You're gonna punish me, aren't you?" you finally whisper.

You feel him shake his head, "Not tonight, pretty girl," he inhales deeply, nosing your hair and gently stroking the skin just above your pussy with his thumb. "I think it's time I finally broke a rule."

Your heart races at his words, eyes widening. You're about to ask him what he means when he suddenly takes both your hands in his and brings them to your thighs, placing them gently down on your warm flesh. He keeps his left hand over yours, enveloping it as his right hand moves downward. Your eyes widen even more, watching as his big hand stills right in front of where you're wet and aching.

"You say it'll just take one touch, did you mean that?" he asks quietly.

"Y-yeah," you whimper, and you're not lying.

You watch with bated breath as he extends his fingers and gently prods your clit with the pad of his index. Just as you knew you would, you tense in his arms and let out a ridiculously loud moan, clenching around nothing as you start to come, body twitching wildly atop his lap. You feel his gaze on your face, watching as the smallest possible touch from him sends you into an absolute frenzy.

"Oh fuck," you cry, tilting your head back against his shoulder, feeling his beard scratch roughly against your cheek, "Joel, Joel, Joel," you repeat his name over and over until it's done, leaving you laying there motionless in his lap, limbs heavy and loose, his finger still sitting tenderly on your clit without movement. You feel your eyes close, head still firm on his shoulder as you breathe deeply in and out.

You lay there in his lap, legs still wide as your belly rises and falls from exertion. His finger rubs your clit once, just once, a soothing gesture that makes your hips buck lightly. He pulls it back and gently trails it to your entrance, hesitating for only a moment before he slowly slips it inside of you. You barely register it, still completely undone from your orgasm, body still processing the aftershocks. He doesn't say anything, just pushes his finger further inside until it's fully sheathed in your heat.

"You feel that?" he finally whispers to you, and you nod languidly, humming in affirmation. He keeps his finger inside of you, thick and long, filling you up, "Feel good?"

You hum again, still catching your breath. You swear you feel him smile against your cheek. Slowly, he pushes a second finger inside, and your lips part at the stretch, eyes opening only slightly as both of his fingers still inside you.

"And that? You feel that?"

"Yes," you whisper, slowly bringing yourself to move forward again, looking down to see where you're connected. You watch as he carefully pushes a third finger alongside the other two, your opening burning in the best possible way at the intrusion. His fingers are so thick, so wide, it's almost like you've got five of your own somehow crammed in there. You clench around him, your hand coming up to hold his wrist, small and fragile compared to his.

"Doesn't hurt, does it?" he murmurs when all three fingers are completely enveloped, his beard brushing your cheek again.

"N-no, feels good," you reply immediately, squeezing his wrist lightly, "Feels full."

"I just want to see how much you can take," he says softly, "I need to know your limits."

"I don't have limits with you," you whisper like it's a secret, and you mean it. He could do anything, say anything, and you wouldn't care. You should probably be ashamed of it, but you're not.

"You should," he replies, voice strained, "You know I have my own limits with you." He carefully adjusts you in his lap, turning you slightly to face him, "Look at me," he murmurs.

You turn around, finally seeing his face for the first time since you'd seated yourself in his lap. He's looking at you carefully, brow furrowed, gauging your expression like he's worried you're lying to him. He must be content with whatever he sees there, because you notice the ghost of a smile tug at his lips.

He slowly pulls his fingers from your core and brings them to your lips. "Suck," he orders softly.

You do as you're told, leaning forward and taking all three fingers in your mouth without hesitation, lapping yourself up as he watches. When you've gotten everything, he removes each finger one by one, then thumbs the corner of your mouth.

"Good girl," he breathes, and you smile in response, enjoying his praise. He smiles back and you feel him tap your thigh gently, "Get up for me now, okay?"

"'Kay," you whisper, shakily moving from his lap and bringing yourself to stand up. You turn around then, standing over him completely bare while he leans back on the couch, shuffling his legs open. You look at his crotch, see the outline of his cock, still hard and thick. Your cheeks turn bright red when you see the large wet stain you've left on his jeans.

He follows your gaze, smirking, "Yeah, you made quite the mess, didn't you?"

"Sorry," you whisper, and he shakes his head.

"Don't be sorry, pretty girl," he reaches for his zipper and tugs it down, pulling his cock out of the confines of his underwear and slipping it through the denim. You swallow, remembering the feeling of his come on your tongue, the hot salty taste in the back of your throat as you'd swallowed all he had to give you.

"Where do you want me?" you ask quietly, hoping against reason that he'll ask you to get on your knees.

He doesn't, as you'd expected, "Just stand right there," he says, stroking himself firmly and quickly, "Stay still, just like that."

You obey, staying very still and watching him jack himself off, his eyes trailing up and down your body hungrily. After only a moment, he shuffles himself forward and points the head of his cock upward, toward your belly. With one final stroke he grunts, deep and masculine, and you watch as his come paints your bare stomach, thick, white, and warm. You shiver, crossing your legs as your cunt begins to throb again, just like last time.

He finishes and releases himself, falling back on the couch and breathing heavily. He looks up at you from under his lashes, completely wrecked.

"Did I do good?" you ask softly, and you feel yourself grin as he shuts his eyes and tosses his head back with a groan.

"Yes, beyond good," he replies, looking back up at you and wincing slightly, "You're gonna kill me."

You giggle proudly and reach down to drag your fingers through his spend on your stomach, reveling in his eyes on you as you bring it to your mouth and push it against your tongue, swallowing it greedily. He groans shakily, carefully stuffing his dick back into his jeans and zipping himself back up. You scoop another finger of his come into your mouth and he stares at you, eyes dark.

"Might as well come directly in your mouth next time," he mutters, and you nod immediately.

"Yes, please."

His expression changes then, no longer playful or aroused. He stands up and walks over to your discarded clothes, picking them up and handing them to you without saying anything. You take them from him with a frown, watching as he picks up his gun from the chair near the fireplace and slips it back inside its holster.

"Are you mad?" you ask softly, unsure if you've said or done something something to upset him.

"No, I'm not mad," he replies, but the roughness of his voice betrays him, "Get dressed, okay? We've still got a few hours left."

You wordlessly slip back into your underwear and jeans, wiping the rest of his come off your stomach with the back of your hand before you pull your t-shirt back on. You look over to see him shrugging his coat on, facing away from you.

"Did I do something?" you ask, and you hate how weak you sound, how shaky your voice is. In any other circumstance you wouldn't hesitate to challenge him, but somehow after being so exposed to him only moments ago, so open and vulnerable, it's difficult to bring the real you back.

"No, you didn't do anything," he says gruffly, "It's me, I already told you we shouldn't be doing this. Should've ended it last week."

His words hurt, but somehow they don't cut you like he probably means them to. You walk toward him, still frowning, "What's the problem? I thought you liked it."

He doesn't say anything and you reach out to touch his shoulder, making him flinch and turn around to look at you again. Your eyes widen when you see that his are suddenly shiny with tears. Your lips part in surprise and you reach for his arm again, gripping his bicep tightly.

"Joel, what's wrong?" you whisper, "You're crying."

"Leave it," he says quickly, yanking himself from your touch, "I told you, we shouldn't be doing this. We can't do it anymore, this was the last time."

"Where is this coming from?" you're so confused, feeling helpless as he backs away from you, "Five minutes ago you were calling me your good girl and now-"

"You gotta stop letting me call you that," he grimaces, "I need to get ahold of myself, I can't keep letting this happen."

"Letting this happen?" you repeat, feeling anger begin to bubble in your throat as the real you finally begins to surface, "You're the one who asked me to sit in your lap, Joel. You're the one who started this whole thing to begin with."

"And I never shoulda been so weak," he spits, shaking his head, "You're a fucking kid, this is messed up."

You stare at him in disbelief, mouth agape, "I'm a grown ass woman, Joel. You know that better than anyone."

"I'm almost thirty years older than you, I should know better."

"Why are you being like this?" your anger betrays you as you feel tears begin to well up in your eyes, "Why are you being so mean? I didn't do anything wrong."

"Exactly, you didn't. It's me," he repeats, turning away from you again, "I'm gonna tell Tommy not to assign us together anymore, this is over."

"No it's not," you stomp forward and try to grab him again but he's already halfway out the front door of the ski lodge.

"Stay inside," he says firmly, still looking away from you, "Leave me alone." The door slams and you stand there in shock, staring after him through the glass as he walks away from you.

What the fuck.

if you have any requests/ideas you'd like to share for this series or any fic in general, feel free to send me a message! i also have a kofi if you'd like to tip me (entirely optional of course but much appreciated).

taglist (click here to be added):

@detectivedaughter @townmoondaltwistle @str84pedro @sammiesap-blog @heartfairy @cutesyscreenname @tinycranberri @daisysliv @morks-watermelon @dakota-00 @jettia @johnwatsn

[kp-alice]

Red Light, No Entry | Hyung line

Summary: sub!Ateez scenarios about you/them stopping a scene

Word count: 7 394

Warnings: written at the beginning of each member's scenario, other than that just general awkwardness and misunderstandings

A/N: This post is the sixth and last part of my Kinktober 2024 series! You can find the masterlist for it here.

A/N 2: Since the fic got quite long, this is only the first half - you can expect the maknae line version soon!

Hongjoong (cnc, hongjoong pretends to be in distress, pegging, a few tears)

The moment Hongjoong asked you to try consensual non-consent, you were both wary and excited. On one hand, you'd already dabbled in quite a few rougher sessions, all of which you'd come to enjoy a lot. Not to mention how he always made sure to reassure you the whole way through, proving it really was just a form of stress relief for him and he wasn't actually uncomfortable.

But now, most of that reassurance would be taken away. Hongjoong wanted to feel small and helpless, to not have any other choice but to take what you'd give him. He found it freeing, knowing he could abandon his leader persona for a moment and just trust you to make all the choices for him. And with the added pretense of not being on board, he could thrive in the almost dangerous dominance emanating from you, in the feeling of being so desired you couldn't help but pounce on him. And hey, worst-case scenario, he could always use his safeword, right? Not to mention the extensive preparations you both made for this scene, discussing any potential boundaries and turn-offs.

And yet, now that you were finally here, you couldn't help but feel massively underprepared anyway.

Hongjoong was on all fours, tightly gripping the pillow his face was buried in while you pounded him from behind. Despite said pillow, you could still hear his muffled protests, whines, and whimpers, growing more desperate by the minute.

You made sure to hold him firmly by the hips, playing your part in the play-pretend scenario of using him solely for your pleasure. Whenever he made another haphazard attempt to get away from you, you were right there to pull him back on your strap, pushing him into the mattress to make him stay.

At first, everything was fine. Intense, but doable. Every now and then, a sound or a jolt from your boyfriend would startle you a bit, but each time, you'd just try to remember the countless times you'd rehearsed and discussed this to remind yourself it was all fake.

However, as time went on, that certainty steadily chipped away.

The pained and desperate noises you were pushing out of Hongjoong started to sound a little too desperate, and the tremble setting into his limbs sure wasn't helping either. You kept trying to tell yourself he would use his safeword if he needed to, but what if he forgot? What if he was stubbornly pushing himself to enjoy what he'd suggested, or worse, because he was scared to let you down? What if he was simply too deep in subspace that he didn't know how to get out of it anymore?

"What's your color, babe?" You panted into his ear as you leaned down, getting a whimpered "Green!" in return.

And yet, you still weren't convinced. After all, how could you be when the more he pretended to struggle, the more you started to feel as if you were actually hurting him? Sure, your main focus was on securing Hongjoong's safety and comfort, but have you stopped to consider your own feelings as well?

"Oh god," Hongjoong sniffled out a few seconds after your check-in, voice watery from the way you were jostling him around. "It's too much Y/N, I really can't! Please, no more!"

Perhaps he was just trying to immerse himself back into the scene after your question, but the moment he lifted his head from the pillow to beg, revealing the tear-stained pillowcase, you knew you were done.

"Baby, red," your voice cut clear through the hot air.

"Wh-what?" Hongjoong stumbled out dumbly, looking back at you in confusion. He was met with your sorry frown, one of your hands sliding down to smooth circles across his lower back before carefully pulling out of him. He wanted to whine at the sudden emptiness, but something told him he probably shouldn't make this about himself right now.

Gingerly, you grabbed his waist and flipped him over, making sure he was lying comfortably. "I'm sorry hun, but I don't think I can push through this one. You know I don't mind roughing you up one bit, but when I don't have the usual reassurance you give me throughout sex, it makes me feel like I'm actually hurting you."

Hongjoong pushed himself up on his elbows, eyes growing wide at your words. "But love, I said beforehand that I'd only be pretending, I even told you I was green when you'd asked! You didn't hurt me in any way, I promise."

You sighed, though a small smile still made its way onto your lips. "I know, babe, but even then, your acting started to feel a little too real. I mean, look at you, you literally have tears in your eyes," you said as you wiped his damp cheeks. "And I know you sometimes tear up even during milder scenes, but there I'm always sure you're actually enjoying yourself."

Hongjoong pondered your words, looking to the side with a serious expression.

"I'm still completely fine with throwing you around and punishing you when you get bratty, and hey, maybe we can try again another time in a more relaxed, beginner-friendly way, but for now, I want to be 100% sure you're on board with everything I'm doing."

After a moment, Hongjoong let out a sigh, wordlessly nodding as he shuffled onto his side and beckoned you over with open arms.

You took him up on the offer in a heartbeat, wanting nothing more than to hold your precious boyfriend and ease any remaining guilt you felt. Trying your best to work around the awkward slotting of your harness against him, you let yourself be wrapped up in his embrace.

"It's okay, love, I understand," Hongjoong began, giving you a soft kiss on the top of your head. "I know it won't change your mind right now, but please believe me when I say I really did like this a lot. I always tell you right away when I get even a little uncomfortable, you know that."

You hummed in agreement at his words, tucking your cheek further into his chest as your finger traced the tattoo on his arm.

"That being said, we can absolutely stop for today if you're not feeling it anymore. I thought this might be something fun and new for us to try, but it's also something I can absolutely do without, trust me. As much as you care about my comfort, I care about yours."

"...so you wouldn't be opposed to this turning into some soft, sappy lovemaking instead?" You asked with a shy smile, looking up to meet his loving gaze.

With a giddy laugh, he shook his head before getting up to straddle your lap. Cupping your cheeks with his warm hands, he swooped down for a big, fat smooch.

"Never."

Seonghwa (doing stuff in public, plugs, seonghwa spirals for a second)

For the longest time now, Seonghwa had been wanting to do something in public. You were unsure at first, considering how private the two of you were about your sex life. He insisted, though, claiming this would be different since no one around you would actually know what was happening. And so, the two of you agreed to try.

A few days later, you were getting ready for an outing with his friends and their partners. Deciding that this was a good opportunity for your little adventure, Seonghwa came up to you with a small, vibrating plug you sometimes used on him. Resisting the urge to take him right then and there with the way he bent over for you so prettily, you helped him put the toy inside. You hadn't even turned it on yet, but your boyfriend was already buzzing with excitement by the time you left your apartment.

But as the two of you arrived at the bar for the night, that excitement turned to something different. A vague unease, of sorts.

You could tell Seonghwa was nervous as he sat down at the far end corner of the booth, quietly eyeing the place as he stuck close to you. Grabbing his thigh, you successfully got his attention again, though not without a small, surprised flinch.

"Are you still okay with doing this, hun?" You asked tentatively, giving him an inquisitive look. Seonghwa gave you a soft smile, resting his slightly clammy hand atop yours. "Of course, whenever you're ready."

Truth be told, Seonghwa wasn't as sure about this as he had claimed to be. In his head, the idea always sounded so hot, being claimed by you in such an intense way with people around. Not to mention the thrill of sharing such a dirty secret between you, making him feel giddy at the added layer of intimacy.

But now, as the plug pressed against him from the inside every time he shifted around, the arousal and excitement he was expecting never really came. Instead, as he watched his friends gather around and chat, he started to feel dirty, and not in a good way. Every time his gaze flicked to someone's face, he could feel a strange churn in his stomach, a mix of shame and guilt swirling around inside. Everyone else thought this was just a normal, fun hangout with friends, so why did he have to bring his own twisted desires into it and force it upon them? And what was worse, despite his adamantly disagreeing brain, he still couldn't help but get aroused, cock starting to strain in his slacks and making him feel that much dirtier.

He couldn't do this. The wish to indulge his perversion just wasn't worth disrespecting his friends like this. They all looked so happy and unassuming and to think he'd even do something like this to them- oh god, he was starting to spiral.

You, on the other hand, either didn't notice his awkwardness or pretended not to, too busy talking to San's partner next to you to pay too much attention to him. You didn't turn on the plug right away either, deciding to wait a bit to surprise him instead.

The entire time you were chatting away with the others, Seonghwa watched you in anxious silence, ogling the small remote you were holding under the table. Waiting. He was feverishly contemplating whether to stop you now, to end the scene before it could even properly begin, but with all the stress and anxiety coursing through him, he couldn't help but freeze instead. You looked like you were having so much fun, and he didn't want to interrupt that by complaining about the thing he himself had brought up.

Clenching his fists in his lap, he tried to will his slowly rising hard-on down, but to no avail. As humiliating as his situation was, his body was reacting anyway. Maybe the humiliation even helped in some twisted way, who knows. He wouldn't be surprised, given how much of a gross pervert he was already-

He was brought out of his frantic thoughts when he saw your hand twitch. The movement was almost unnoticeable, but given how closely he was staring at your hand already, dreading this exact situation, it woke him up in record time. While you were laughing along at something Yunho had just said, he watched in slow motion as your thumb inched towards the small "On" button. There was genuine fear in his chest now, feeling as though he could only watch and not intervene, too small to do anything.

Until you hovered directly over the button and Seonghwa's body seemingly moved on its own.

His hand snapped forward to grab your wrist, almost making you drop the remote in surprise. His grip was tight, though you could feel a slight tremor in it as he held onto you.

Turning to look at him, your teasing smile quickly fell as you finally noticed his wide, shaky eyes.

"Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Your words came out hushed so as to not alert anyone beside the two of you, and yet the calming effect it had on Seonghwa was immediate. Despite his hold on your wrist staying firm, his shoulders noticeably relaxed, allowing him to let out a shaky breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"I- I," Seonghwa gulped, eyes glazing over slightly as all the suppressed tension suddenly released from his body, "I'm scared."

Your own chest tightened at that, moving your free hand to rest over his as you gave him a worried pout. "Do you want to wait a bit longer or should we just stop altogether?"

There wasn't a moment of hesitation before your boyfriend chose the latter, relieved when you immediately agreed. Putting the remote away, you stood up and quickly excused the two of you, lying about needing fresh air due to a headache. In times like these, you really were a lifesaver.

After shuffling out of the booth together, with Seonghwa holding your bag in front of his crotch as inconspicuously as he could, you headed straight for the bathroom. You waited for him outside while he took care of the toy, letting him borrow your handbag so that he had somewhere to put it.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened again, and outside stepped a considerably red but much calmer-looking Seonghwa. He sheepishly handed you your bag back before digging around his coat pockets, only to fish out a small bottle of hand sanitizer.

"How dumb of me to think they'd have paper towels in there instead of hand dryers. Now my hands are gonna feel gross for the rest of the night," he huffed half upset, half to ease the slightly awkward tension between the two of you.

"Yeah, I'm afraid we can't do much about that, baby," you replied sympathetically. "But besides that, you good?"

His blush deepened at your question, lips pressing together nervously. "Ah, uh, yeah, everything's fine. I guess I just expected this to feel a lot more fun and a lot less disrespectful. I couldn't look anyone in the eyes I felt so bad." He let out a small chuckle at the end, but you could tell he was more disappointed than anything. Whether in himself or the situation altogether, you didn't know.

You hummed in understanding, drawing closer to him as you put your hand on his arm. "It's okay, love, you didn't mean to disrespect anyone. And it's not like they had any idea, anyway. They won't be hurt by this, I promise. The only thing that happened tonight was that we figured out another boundary to be mindful of in the future."

We. Oh, how he loved that you said that. It was a small choice of words, and yet, in this situation, it meant the world to him. This wasn't him fucking up and being a terrible person, you were in this together and it really wasn't that big of a deal. Well, it was a big enough deal to make him never want to do this again, but as for this one-time mess-up, it really wasn't worth beating himself up over it.

"So, you ready to head back?" You took a step forward, offering him your hand.

He smiled sheepishly, lowering his gaze to your outstretched hand before enveloping it in his own.

"Of course, whenever you're ready."

Yunho (pet play, cfnm, collars and leashes)

Considering everything else up until now, it only made sense for the two of you to try this.

No matter who Yunho talked to, sooner or later, his behavior would be compared to that of a dog, or, more accurately, a puppy. He really liked the comparison, especially whenever you made it - including in the bedroom. Not to mention how he tended to refer to himself as Puppy too whenever he happened to fall a little too deep into subspace.

"Mmh, Puppy's gonna- Puppy needs-", "Please keep going, Puppy can take it, Puppy wants to be good for you!"

And so, one evening after an hour of passionate lovemaking where Yunho had once again slipped a bit too deep, the topic of his beloved pet name came up once more. Sooner or later, the conversation turned to pet play, with both of you agreeing to try it out to see if it would suit you. The two of you discussed in great detail both what you were curious about and what you wanted to avoid, snuggling even closer together at the exciting plans for the future.

No specific date was set, both to keep Yunho on his toes and to make everything feel more spontaneous. Nervous yet hopeful, he had no choice but to wait for you to initiate.

By the time Thursday rolled around, Yunho had partially forgotten about your promise, both because he didn't want to pressure either of you and because he was so caught up with work that he was glad his mind got any rest at all these days. And even though the big project he'd been working on was finally finished today and he could rest for a few days, he was still so mentally spent he had no energy to celebrate anymore.

Which is exactly why you picked Thursday as the day, since you knew your boyfriend could really use some time off from all the working and thinking. Not to mention you both had Friday off, meaning you had all the time to take this at your own pace.

Yunho quietly shuffled into your shared apartment, turning around to take off his coat and shoes. Putting everything away, he sluggishly turned back to face the hallway, only to startle as you suddenly appeared before him.

"Hey there," you smiled. "Long day at work, huh?"

Yunho blinked away his shock for a moment but smiled nonetheless, nodding softly. "Yeah, I feel like I'm too tired to even speak at this point."

To his surprise, his response only made you smile wider.

"Good things puppies don't need to speak then, right?"

Oh.

Oh.

You could see the succession of emotions flicker in your lover's eyes - confusion, realization, shock, excitement, nervousness, lust.

"Wait, are we really-"

You shushed him with a finger against his lips, tutting softly. "What did I just say, hm? No speaking, Pup. Not unless it's your safeword or something absolutely necessary. Got it?"

After processing your words for a second, all Yunho could do was nod meekly, meeting your gaze with his unsure one.

Your finger on his lips trailed to his cheek as you gently cupped it, rubbing his cheekbone with your thumb. "Good boy. Now come on, let's get these off."

Yunho stayed still for you while you pulled his sweater over his head, fixing his hair with a small giggle as you let the garment fall to the ground. You'd worry about that later.

His pants soon followed, and so did his boxers. You helped him step out of the fabric pooling around his ankles before grabbing one of his legs. He leaned against your shoulders for support as you took off his sock, setting his leg back down before repeating the same process with the other.

Just like that, Yunho was left completely bare before your still fully clothed form. Something about that contrast made him shiver, made him feel so much smaller than you despite your actual size difference.

It only took a small push on his shoulder to get him to kneel on the floor, looking up at you with nothing but trust and devotion.

"Now, Puppy," you began, not missing the chill running down his spine at the pet name, "there's one more thing we gotta do before we can really begin. Do you know what that is?"

Yunho shook his head no, eyeing you curiously.

You walked around him to where your coats and jackets hung by the door. You picked up a jacket, and Yunho could immediately see something hiding in one of its pockets. He knew what it was even before you had the chance to pull it out.

A collar.

A collar and a leash, to be exact.

"Now, I didn't get you a custom one or anything since we're just trying this out," you explained as you crouched down in front of him, "but if we do end up enjoying this, I'd love to get my puppy one that's made just for him. Would you like that, hun?"

It would appear Yunho was especially slow with responses today, too busy slipping into a different type of daze with each of your words and actions. He was scared to nod his head again since you were putting the collar on him right now, so a small whine had to do. Hopefully, you got the message.

The silent tension as you fixed the collar around his neck was broken with a final click! as you attached the leash to the front, completing the look you'd decided on for tonight. Making sure the collar wasn't too tight, you stuck two fingers under it, surprised to feel Yunho's racing pulse as well. He sure knows how to put on a calm facade.

Standing up on your feet again, you ignored the popping of your knees and straightened up with a small huff. You could only hope Yunho's knees would be more durable than yours.

"Look at you, my pretty pup," you cooed, leaning down to ruffle his hair a bit. "You're too cute to stay out here by the door, don't you think? Come, you deserve a snack for being such a good boy."

And with that, you began walking, leash in hand.

...Only to stop after two steps, feeling said leash tugging your hand back.

You staggered a bit but quickly regained balance, turning around with a raised brow. "Come on Puppy, what did I just say? So much for calling you a good boy when you can't even follow your owner."

Despite your disappointed tone, you were more worried than anything. You looked your boyfriend up and down, looking for any signs of discomfort, but found none. Although his eyes looked a bit hesitant, the steadily growing sight between his legs hinted that was more from the unfamiliarity of the situation rather than actual unease.

Before you could prod him any further, Yunho gingerly leaned forward, placing both palms on the hallway floor. Slowly, shyly even, he began crawling after you.

You watched the muscles in his back move as he clumsily approached you, not even bothering to sit again as his head hung low. "There's my good boy. You're doing so well!" You praised him earnestly, hoping to ease any potential embarrassment he might be feeling. This was supposed to be relaxing for him, after all.

Tugging on his leash again, you finally got him to crawl with you into the kitchen, where you pulled out a chair from the dining table.

Yunho, as expected, stayed on the ground. Just like before, he stayed on all fours, solidifying your decision to get him some knee pads if you were ever going to do this again.

Grabbing a small bowl of frosted wheats you'd prepared in advance, you sat down in front of him.

"Sit."

The command was simple enough for Yunho to follow almost immediately, showing his slightly red knees.

Happy with his fast response, you ruffled his head encouragingly. "Good boy! Here you go."

His eyes flicked up at your words, not expecting to see your hand outstretched with a single piece of cereal in it. His arms twitched as he wanted to grab it himself but quickly stopped at the pointed look in your eyes. The blush on his face grew even deeper as he realized what you wanted from him, lips tightly pressing together in embarrassment.

Nevertheless, he obeyed.

Shuffling forward the slightest bit, Yunho's eyes fluttered closed as he pressed his mouth to the "treat". A moment later, you felt his lips touch your palm for just a split second before retreating again, the small square peeking out from between them.

You watched as he ate it, waiting to give him his next command.

"Down."

A small whine left Yunho at your order, along with a pout settling on his still-red face. He was quite literally giving you puppy eyes.

You just tutted at him in disapproval, gently tugging at his leash to remind him who was in charge.

"Only good boys get treats, Pup, come on. Down."

With his bottom lip still jutting out and his brows furrowed, he finally did as you said, lowering himself to rest his forearms against the cold kitchen tiles.

"There you go! Good boy," you praised him again, letting him sit back up before handing him another piece of cereal. He took it into his mouth with no hesitation this time, and you were pleased to see him getting used to his new role.

Until you got to your next command, that was.

As you watched Yunho swallow his second treat, you opened your mouth to give him the order you were looking forward to the most:

"Speak."

Like the flip of a switch, you could see all of the tension and hesitance return to his body at once. His hands fidgeted in his lap, eyes refusing to look anywhere but the floor.

"Puppy," you spoke in a warning tone, drawing a small whimper from the man before you. "Why are you being so difficult? You know what to do."

Taking a few shallow breaths, Yunho seemed to be steeling himself for something. You watched as he took another, longer breath, chest rising as he looked at you with determination - only to crumble again immediately.

"What is it, hun?" You asked gently, leaning down to pet his hair comfortingly. "Come on, you can do it. This is the last one and then we're gonna move on to something else, okay?"

You thought he'd agree, that this was just one of those moments of uncertainty where your boyfriend needed to be reassured before you could continue.

But, to your surprise, he shook his head.

Worry flooded your heart this time, making your chest tighten. The hand in his hair slipped down to his chin, gently tipping it up to make him look at you. But as he finally met your gaze again, you were met with an even more unsure set of puppy eyes than before.

"Oh honey, what's wrong? Is this too much?"

Hesitantly, Yunho nodded.

"I'm sorry, it's just-" he took a deep breath, curling in on himself slightly, "it's weird, I can't do it."

"What's weird?"

"I don't know," he replied. "I- I thought I'd like this- and some of it I do, really! The collar, the leash, the crawling around, the way you were talking to me, all of it was nice in itself, but when it's all combined like this and I can't even talk to you properly, it just..."

You waited for him to continue, but nothing. "'It just' what?" You softly prodded further, voice coming out in almost a whisper.

Yunho let out another conflicted sigh, pressing his cheek down against your thigh.

"It just feels too dehumanizing," he admitted at last. "And, like, I guess that's the intended effect, but, I don't know. I guess I still need to feel at least a little human even when you treat me like a dog, as confusing as that is. Less barking, more talking, so to speak."

You chuckled at his simplified explanation, making him smile as well.

"I mean, we're still going to need to discuss this later to make sure I know exactly what you mean and want," you began, "but I think I understand it well enough for now. And I'm sorry if I pushed you too far, you could have stopped me way sooner."

"It's okay," Yunho hummed. "We planned all of this together so I knew what to expect. I just needed a bit to decide if I liked it or not, and what exactly I didn't like about it."

You nodded at his explanation, silently petting his hair.

"Well," you spoke up again, making Yunho raise his head from your lap, "I think we should end it here, then - for today, at least. What do you want to do instead? Do you want to take this to the bedroom and do something more familiar, or do you want me to go get your clothes and just stop altogether?"

Yunho weighed his options for a minute, eyebrows furrowing together in concentration.

"Would you be upset if I said I wanted to stop completely?" He sheepishly asked, worried you would take it the wrong way. "Not because you did something bad or anything, I just feel a bit more soft than spicy at the moment."

To his relief, you just chuckled, leaning closer to remove his collar along with the leash. "Of course I won't be upset, Yuyu. Tonight is meant to be about you, to help you relax after all the work you've had to do lately. I want to do whatever makes you happy."

"So you wouldn't mind cuddling on the couch while we finish that box of cereal on the table?"

"I'd love that."

Yeosang - (mirror sex, body insecurities)

You were lying under the covers, phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling while you waited for your boyfriend to get ready for bed. You had no problem staying up for him since he was usually rather quick. This time, however, you were beginning to grow impatient, seeing you'd already been waiting almost double the normal time.

Ten more minutes stretched on, steadily adding to your irritation. You'd already called out to Yeosang once to hurry up, only getting a startled "Y-yeah! Just give me a minute!" in return.

Even after said minute, though, your boyfriend seemed nowhere near done. The shower wasn't even running anymore, having been turned off a good while ago. Just what was he doing in there?

Having had enough, you got up with a huff, stomping over to the door again. As expected, it was unlocked. Yeosang didn't really bother with locking it since you never came in unless it was an emergency.

"Yeo, I'm going in, this is getting ridiculous," you announced as you began opening the door. It had been a while since he'd finished showering anyway, so you shouldn't walk in on anything too crazy.

It would appear that your presence was still rather unwelcome, though, as Yeosang squeaked out a jumbled mess of stuttered protests at the door creaking open. And yet, he made no real effort to keep you out, likely too surprised to react in time.

Your brows furrowed as you took in the sight of him, standing before the mirror in nothing but his boxers and arms shielding his chest. "What are you doing?"

Yeosang froze at your question, frantically searching for an answer. "I- I, uh, I was just... looking?"

"At what? Yourself?"

When he sheepishly nodded, you couldn't help but chuckle. "Hun, it's been like fifteen minutes since the shower's turned off. Don't tell me you've been standing here this whole time."

His silence was enough of a response.

"Yeo," you sighed, closing the door behind you before walking over to where he stood.

He stayed quiet as you appeared next to him in the mirror's reflection, avoiding both your and his eyes. Soft arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer.

"You should get dressed, love," you murmured against his shoulder before giving it a small kiss. "It's too cold in here."

Once again, he nodded wordlessly, looking around for his pajama shirt, only to find you already offering it to him. You helped him put it on, and he had to admit, the shirt did make him a lot more comfortable for a multitude of reasons.

"So what were you doing in here, hm?" You asked again, and Yeosang inwardly sighed. He should have known you wouldn't give up so easily. "You said you were looking at yourself, but why? What is there to examine so thoroughly?"

You tried to speak lightly, not wanting the atmosphere to get too serious and make Yeosang feel too exposed. Or not more than he'd already been, rather.

"I, um," he began, unsure of how to put all the bad thoughts raging in his head into words, "I don't know. I just feel like I've gotten worse, somehow? Like the reflection in front of me isn't exactly what I remember it to be."

Ah. Now you understood.

"Honey..." you called out to him softly, opening your arms to invite Yeosang into your embrace.

This wasn't exactly a new state for Yeosang, as you'd found him in similar headspaces in the past. Ones where despite his incredible looks and physique, he couldn't quite see them for himself anymore, feeling a vague sense of deterioration instead.

You'd do your best to console him, of course, and with enough patience and effort, it always worked, nurturing your boyfriend back into his happy, confident mindset. And so, you didn't let his defeated words deter you, knowing you'd get him right back on his feet again in no time.

You could feel some of the tension release from his shoulders as he melted into you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck while your fingers brushed through his soft hair. Your other hand slowly slid up his shirt, giving him ample time to stop you just in case, but he let you keep going. You came to a stop at his shoulder blades, feeling around the expanse of his back before giving him light scratches. The touch made him shudder in your hold, sighing contently into your skin and making you smile in return.

"I know you probably won't believe me right now," you began in a hushed voice, "which is already crazy to me because you know that I'd never, ever lie to you about something like this," Yeosang nodded into the crook of your neck, signaling to you that he was listening, "but please believe me when I tell you that nothing's different about you. You are, were, and will always be my handsome, gorgeous, beautiful, breathtaking piece of art of a boyfriend."

Yeosang shifted a bit in your hold, hands coming down to tightly clutch at your shirt.

"I'd love to list all of the things I love about you, but I'm afraid we'd be stuck in this bathroom for the next few days," you joked, earning a small huff from him. "So let me just name a few for now, hm? Let you see yourself a bit through my eyes instead of yours."

After a beat of silence, you could feel a shy nod against your shoulder.

Taking that as your cue to continue, you straightened up, gently prying Yeosang from your embrace. His eyes flicked to yours for a split second, full of nervousness and vulnerability.

As softly as you could, you grabbed his shoulders and nudged him to turn around, Yeosang confusedly complying until you stopped him right in front of the mirror. He met his own eyes on accident before quickly looking away again, finding the bathroom counter in front of him much more interesting.

You, however, couldn't have that, reaching up to take hold of his chin and tilting it back in the direction of the mirror. "Don't look away, Yeo," you chided softly. "I want you to admire yourself with me."

Your words caused another shiver to run down his spine, somehow feeling more exposed like this than when you'd entered the bathroom a few minutes ago.

"Now, where to begin," you muttered mostly to yourself, looking him up and down in the mirror. "Let's just start at the top, shall we?"

You began with his hair, freshly brushed and incredibly soft as always. You played around with the strands as you showered him with compliments, twisting them in this and that direction, making Yeosang smile.

You then moved on to exactly that next, pointing out his pretty lips and an even more beautiful smile, causing his cheeks to redden as his expression turned bashful.

His striking eyes and adorable birthmark followed before you began trailing lower, now focused on his firm, wide shoulders. Your eyes were locked onto Yeosang's the whole time, watching his gaze flit between yours and whatever part of him you were currently appreciating. As the minutes dragged on and you moved from one spot to the next, pressed up against your boyfriend's back, you could see his eyes slightly gloss over, a dazed look creeping into them.

"Now, for one of my absolute favorites," you announced with a playful grin as your hand trailed down from his collarbone, grabbed the hem of his shirt, and tugged it up. You looked at Yeosang pointedly as you held the bunched-up fabric in front of him, waiting for him to get the message. You could hear his breath hitch as the realization dawned on him, meeting your eyes unsurely before leaning forward and biting down. You just gave him a proud smile, petting the back of his head before returning your hand to his front. You took your time, languidly moving down his sternum before taking a sharp turn to grab one of his pecs. Yeosang gasped at the sensation, reaching back to hold onto your thigh for support.

"I've said this a million times already, but God, do I love your boobs," you spoke dreamily, squeezing the muscle under your fingers. Yeosang squirmed in your hold, kept in place by your other hand clutching his hip.

A small, weak sound reverberated in his chest as your pointer finger drew circles into his skin, dangerously closing in on his nipple. His eyes stayed completely focused on your hand now, steeling himself for the inevitable pinch. It didn't do much, though, as you still managed to squeeze a delicious whimper out of him when you finally did it, making him press back into your body.

"You're always so sensitive here, aren't you?" You teased, brushing over the bud with your thumb to soothe it before moving to do the same with the other one. "I can never get enough of playing with them."

By the time you were done with his chest and began trailing even lower, Yeosang was panting. His hold on your thigh tightened, trying to keep himself steady even when his legs started to go weak from your ministrations. His other hand grabbed the wrist of yours holding onto his hip, as if scared you'd even think about letting go.

But while your words and caresses clearly had a very positive effect on your boyfriend, you weren't exactly content just yet.

You could tell he was slowly gaining some of his usual confidence back through your touches and words of appreciation, and yet, his eyes kept slipping away from his form in the mirror. Every time he'd do so, you'd sternly remind him where to look, to enjoy his body with you.

At first, he obeyed, meeting your eyes through the reflection again with an even darker blush spreading through his face and down his neck. Once you got below his neckline, small whines of protest joined his responses, but he listened nonetheless.

But the moment your hand finally landed on his crotch, a switch seemingly flipped inside of him.

You smirked as he let out a pathetic whimper, his faint abs visibly tensing at the feeling. "And what do we have here?"

With the shirt still in his mouth, Yeosang couldn't exactly answer, limited to nothing but desperate whines and panting. Even then, he tried to make his feelings clear, turning his head away to try and hide into your neck again.

You were quick to stop him, though, untangling your wrist from his grip to hold his jaw in place.

"No, no," you tutted. "You know better than that, don't you?"

And Yeosang, being your lovely little good boy, almost conceded again, the tension in his neck easing as he slowly began to turn back.

But the moment the hand on his hard-on began moving, he knew he was done.

You wavered for a second as Yeosang suddenly whipped around, too fast for you to stop him this time, and shoved his face into your shoulder. A part of you wanted to scold him again, yet something told you now might not be the best time.

"Hun?" You asked softly, rubbing circles into his back. "You okay? Talk to me."

It took Yeosang a moment to realize through the haze in his mind that he still had the shirt in his mouth. Taking out the now wrinkled material, he hid his face back in your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do it like this," he muttered, and you could feel the heat radiating off his cheeks. "Everything else was okay, even if a bit embarrassing, but it feels really weird to be looking at myself while you do... that."

You hummed thoughtfully, ruminating over his words. "So you're saying everything we did before that was okay? Do you think it helped you at least a little, or should we do something different?"

Yeosang shook his head. "No, no, it was really nice, actually. I was embarrassed at first, but once I pushed through that, it actually felt very comforting," he admitted, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I mean, if you could push through that initial embarrassment and ended up enjoying it, then, maybe..." you trailed off, snaking a hand between your bodies to tease at the hem of his boxers, "even this could work?"

Much to your disappointment, Yeosang vehemently shook his head, tightening his hold on you. "N-no, I really don't think so. Everything else made me feel more confident and comfortable over time, but this instantly made me self-conscious all over again. It just- it feels weird to watch myself like that, I don't know."

"It's okay," you replied, retracting your hand to put it on the small of his back instead. "If it doesn't feel right, then that's that. As long as I helped you feel even a little bit better about yourself, I'm happy."

Yeosang couldn't help the small, shy smile that spread across his lips. He knew words couldn't describe just how much you cared about him, and yet, with the two of you standing here like this, baring your hearts to each other, it was almost palpable.

What was even more palpable, however, was the obvious, unresolved problem pushing into your thigh.

You pulled away slightly, just enough to look into your boyfriend's eyes again.

"So..." you began, a coy smile on your lips, "since we said no more mirrors for now, how about we take this somewhere else and I make you feel even better?"

Yeosang's eyes widened at your offer before a small, bashful grin appeared on his face. "If you'd be so kind."

You chuckled at his sweet tone, knowing far too well his thoughts were anything but sweet right now. Nevertheless, you grabbed his hand and opened the bathroom door again.

"Then follow me, pretty boy."

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