#friends to lovers (but were they ever friends?)

[tonycries]

Video Game Lover - G.S.

Synopsis. Suguru Geto, the resident nerd who “helps” you with your homework. Tall, gloomy, mean, and- and an alpha? And he’s in rut?!

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, alpha! nerd! Geto, ruts, OMÉGAVERSE AU, pánty-sniffer Geto, he goes FÉRAL, MEAN Geto, headIocks, slightly bímbo! reader, dúmbifícation, cervíx kíssing, creampíes, cúmplay, MANHANDLlNG, Geto with glasses + tattoos, overstím, knots, first times (Geto), pússydrunk Geto, MATÍNG BÍTES, oraI (f + m), p talking, spítting, praise, he’s POSSESSIVE, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.8k

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

“Please, Sugu—?”

“No.”

“I’ll let you keep my panties?”

And that makes Geto shudder, breath hitching into something dangerously husky as he pushes his thick glasses further up his nose bridge. Greedy gaze darting anywhere but where you were oh-so-vulgarly leaning towards him. “Tch- as if I’d ever…”

With a grin, you shift to show him a flash of cherry pink peeking out from underneath that sinfully short skirt of yours.

Purposefully. 

He was gone. 

“F-fine.” He’s gulping, and it wouldn’t be the first time that you’d goaded the ill-tempered campus genius, Geto Suguru, into doing your- ah, “helping” you with your homework. “But-”

Before Geto can ramble away the usual lecture about something called “academic integrity”, you’re jumping up and tackling his towering frame into a hug. Pressing the curves of your tits into his Digimon t-shirt - just as a little treat - and flouncing excitedly back to your friends. 

But what you didn’t notice is the way that makes Geto stiffen.

His tummy lurching, nose raising into the air- 

Oh.

You smelled so sweet. 

Geto’s spit-slicked lips part open to steal a sharp gasp of the sweltering lecture hall air- it couldn’t be. And his bleary irises can’t even focus, can’t lock on anything but the figure of you mere feet away. 

…Could it?

With a slight tilt of your head, you’re staring back at him - and something…carnal pangs through his suddenly-boiling veins.

Then you smirk- and Geto twitches.

Fuck.

He would’ve crashed onto his knees right then and there if it wasn’t for the way that you proceed to dig through your cute, useless bag - still in the middle of a conversation with your friends - and throw something flimsy and pale pink at him.

No shame. No regrets.

None for either of you; but especially not Geto once his strong palms reach out to urgently scramble for the shred of gauzy fabric in midair. 

Tangling the stringy satin between thick, ringed fingerpads, he’s sinking his face into its sugarcoated scent before sinking into the realization that you’d had the audacity to throw your fucking panties at him in the middle of a bustling seminar. 

Yet, he was even worse - jaw slackening, broad chest heaving with rasping ahs! as he drinks in loooong repeated puffs of your pheromones. Coating his brain in melty molasses of sugar and spice and you. 

There was a reason you were the most sought-after omega on the entire campus. With your filthy skin-tight outfits, and your flirty smiles. 

And him? He couldn’t get enough.

Smearing away a sloppy splotch of saliva spilling from the corner of his mouth- when had he even started drooling? Geto watches through watery peripherals as you mouth a smug “an advance” at him, and saunter out of the class in your tightly-knit group.

Too tightly-knit, if you asked Geto. Dead-on stare narrowing, he catches the way one of your so-called friends brush away an invisible piece of lint from your shoulder. 

Just barely. His head snapping towards Geto when the latter growls-

Oh.

Oh, fuck. 

He was fucked.

.

.

.

Listen, it’s not as if you make Geto finish all of your homework - just the ones that you found too tedious, too complicated, or too time-consuming. Which might just happen to be all of them, but you digress! 

He was more than happy to collect those slutty scraps of silk you called “panties” and you were proud to keep your streak of having the second-highest GPA in class (after the man himself, of course.)

The more important the grade the more sinful the panties. 

After all, it wasn’t as if you minded all of Geto’s fiery stares at you during lectures, the spark in his eyes when he tried to drill a difficult concept into your mind, or the way his dark lashes would flutter drunkenly the moment you got too close. 

In fact, you might even admit that you…like it.

Because Geto was hot. Fuck- he was fucking pretty.

You’d seen just how fawny his amethyst eyes were behind those clunky glasses. Lengthy Stygian hair, so many inches above six feet, and biceps that pull his gamer t-shirts so taut that it made you wonder what was underneath.

But it wasn’t as if a nerd - and a beta, obviously, though you didn’t care for secondary gender - like him would ever make a move. 

Hell, he barely even talked to anyone other than the professors. 

All grumbling and rude. It took you weeks to even get him to acknowledge your existence, and that was only by giving him an “accidental” glimpse of your red, red bra strap. 

So you were mostly fine and dandy with this lecherous transaction of yours. Geto was smart; he was never a minute late in emailing you your surely A+ worthy work before their deadlines, and you’d gift him his little treat just the day after.

Except- you were lounging on your couch as the 12:00AM deadline for your latest essay rolled around and there was still no sign of Geto. Not a single ping from your inbox. 

With an impatient thumb, you’re idly scrolling through the sparse chat history you’d all but bullied him into sharing with you, brows furrowing deeper and deeper at your plethora of ignored texts and calls. 

Nothing new but, seriously…

Scoffing as the clock tick! tick! ticked! its way to 12:01AM. 

He was late - and your homework was, too. 

You’d been feeling a little too…feverish tonight to attend that one party your friends had invited you to, and thank your stars for that. Because not even minutes later, you were stomping the few blocks down to Geto’s apartment building and all the way up to his white-painted front door.

“Hey, Sugu—” You rap your knuckles harshly on the wood, exasperated. “Are you in there?”

No answer. 

Huffing, your heated skin stings where it clashes even harder against his door. Impatiently, “Hah- making an omega walk all the way out here…I should take back all those panties I gave you. Yaga deducts points for late submissions and I am not leaving until you come out.”

Still no answer. Not even a sound. 

“In fact, I’ll only get louder.”

Not even a breath. 

That was…strange. He should’ve at least come out to shut up your racket so that he can study, if not at the mention of your panties. 

And right now your annoyance was being washed away with sharp waves of concern, a nervous bout of laughter escaping you as soon as your hand falls on the door handle to find it shockingly unlocked. Oh? 

You and Geto might not be the best of friends, but you wanted him to be alright goddammit. 

“Better come out and stop me now, unless you want me to barge in!” You call out, jostling the cold, metallic knob for good measure. It holds firm in your hand, the only thing grounding your swimming mind as you bask in a second of silence. Two. Three. Before sighing, “Have it your way then. I’m coming in–”

Then it hits you.

Slow, at first. Like a smell from a distant memory that you find yourself aching for - find yourself stumbling a few steps inside Geto’s cozy apartment and devouring in generous lungfuls. 

You slam the door shut to cloud yourself in the saturated air and gasp.

This was nothing like any expensive perfume you’d smelled before. It felt like your entire body was on fire, like every one of your pores was scorching from deep inside. Like you needed him.

Head whirling with the heady concoction of caramel salt scent and those dark undertones of wine. Something so dangerous. So tempting. So…Suguru.

You jolt. He was in rut. 

Wait, rut? Geto Suguru? Wasn’t he…wasn’t he a beta? 

You swear he was. You didn’t know what was happening, only angling your head up for more and more and more-

Shit, you’re shoving your thighs together before you know it. Already feeling the slippery stream of slick that sloshes past your pussy lips and puddles at the bottom of your underwear. And you know you’ve never been wetter. 

“A-anyone home?” You’re straining out, the doughy mountain of your palm rubbing mindlessly up n’ down through your thin skirt. 

Undoubtedly, there’s still no response. And yet, it’s almost as if he’s calling to you - and maybe he is.

Feet wrenching one jerky pitch after the other, you have to balance yourself on the hallway walls to fucking keep your sanity.

And to perhaps stop your weakened knees from slipping you into a pile on the polished hardwood floors. Perhaps to stop yourself from breaking out into a run to wherever your inner luna was clawing to take you. 

You breathe, “Th-this isn’t funny, Suguru…”

The soft thuds of your padded steps thunder in time with your racing heart. Louder and louder. Deafening by the time you’re catching sight of a large mahogany door at the end of the corridor that waves ever-so-slightly ajar. 

Where those hypnotic pheromones were the most saturated. And your mouth waters. 

It’s only once you’re reaching it - trembling, standing stock-still, right outside what you now assumed to be his bedroom - that you realize Geto was calling to you. Well, more like he was calling out for you. 

Your name. 

In soft, breathy moans that make his rich baritone crack.

“Get the fuck in here.”

.

.

.

The moment Geto Suguru catches a glimpse of your oh-so-cute face - the moment he senses that you’re actually, honest-to-goodness here - he cums. 

And he can’t help it- fuck, he can’t help it.

Even dabbing the fat of his massive thumb right over his bawling tip can’t stop the heaping torrents of gooey white escaping from him. Such slick ribbons upon ribbons crawling their way up Geto’s washboard abs, you can only watch with bated breath as his messy, round globs of seed trickle up n’ down until they drench his dark happy trail. 

Your watery thighs stick together, maw falling agape because you’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined this.

You had. Once or twice or many, many times. 

All splayed out on his Digimon sheets like this; meaty thighs cracked open, silky locks slathered across every inch, glasses fogged up. Ruined. Geto’s sweat-shimmered back arches off the outdated bed springs with a creak! while his hand flew furiously up and down his swollen cock.

Shit, you’re biting your lip. Syllables jumping roughly off of your heavy tongue, “S-Suguru?”

SLAM!

It’s like the sound of your voice does heavenly wonders to him.

Plump, tender balls squeezing, Geto’s free hand encloses behind his sweaty scalp and onto the headboard above him. Hard enough that the sturdy frame snaps, pale biceps flexing enough that you find your skin clammy with need. 

“Fuh-fuck.” He’s hissing through clenched teeth. Staring right at your meandering form through dazed half-crescents, mouth departing endless husked grunts. And oh…oh a few more dewy droplets of cum spray out of his bawling orifice once you gulp. “Look what you’ve done t’me.”

“Y-you’re an alpha?” You finally manage to find your voice. 

He snickers, the murky scent of the room growing ever-stronger. And even more than that was your own scent, mixing and melding until you felt dizzy. “And you’re in danger, little omega~”

Your widened gaze grows to lock on the way that his rugged fingers continue milking out creamy sploshes of cum. Expertly flying up, up, up– before fisting his hefty base with an airy sigh. 

Large. He was so large. 

And in so many ways more than one. 

An alpha. He was an alpha. 

Seductively sculptured body dwarfing his single bed with what looked like miles upon miles of toned, tall muscles. Were those tattoos spying out from the sides of his back?

A syrupy geyser of sap formulates between his two legs the size of your head- this was Geto Suguru? 

And his cock - oh, he was so perfectly massive. Oversized, even in Geto’s engulfing hand. 

So painfully hard that he was blushing a blossoming magenta near the very tip of his globular cockhead, throbbing. Pulsing. Thick lightning bolts of veins gripping down either side of his pink shaft and all the way down to his breeder balls.

With a harrowed gasp filling your lungs, you’re spotting just the barest fringe of something soaked-through and gauzy tangled underneath his digits. 

Fuck. 

“Is that-”

“This?” Geto grins - grins. You’ve never seen him smile let alone show off this dopey, predatory leer plastering all over his flushed features. A gentle dimple embeds near his curled lip, and he quirks an eager brow. 

You can barely even think while he untwines the frilly pair of panties you’d thrown at him in class from around his aching cock. Sticky and stretched now, it finds home right near his flared nostrils as Geto brings it up and sniffs. Crazed. “C’mere.”

The rawest of glints twinkle in his half-lidded vision as you inch closer, the way you tremble on your two feet like a newborn fawn was adorable. And he can’t stop himself from letting out a low whistle–

“Yeah. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Your body kneels you right by Geto’s bedside before your mind can even think to catch up. Head lolling lecherously against the wide plane of his shivering thigh, you let your tongue lap up a pearl of his buttery white cum and keen. He was even bigger up close. “Sugu—”

“Nuh uh, gorgeous.” Geto tuts, gravelly tonality rendering you confused just as much as you were needy. His two palms grip the crown of your head to peer upwards, “S’all because of you. You n’ those d-damn panties. M’not your hck! nerdy fuckin’ Sugu right now. Best remember that- m’gonna make sure you remember that.”

He’s more than gazing down at you, he’s boring right through you. 

Spectacle frames creeping precariously down his nose bridge, tendrils of his shaggy hair almost curtaining him, pellets of sweat trickle down his temples and hit you in thin spatters. So close. And you wanted him closer. 

“Tilt your head back, lemme see that ngh- pretty mouth.” One hand slips from your head to curl around Geto’s fattened hilt, nudging his puckered tip to strike your lips with a dull thud! “Count.”

“One-”

And it’s not once. 

“T-two-”

Not twice. 

“Three- hah!”

Not thrice, until he’s leaving your mouth whimpering and stinging with the slam of his rock-hard shaft slapping down your tender flesh. Leaving a slimy trail of pre and salty cum that leaks between your maw and drives you wild. 

Then - and only then - is he wrenching you up closer. Manhandling your pliable body until the very tip of his perfectly button nose meets yours. So close.

Your teary lashes flutter halfway shut once you feel the foggy breeze of his breath scorching your face, cunt quivering with the anticipation of a kiss. His pheromones hit you in powerful gusts, your primal urges scratching up to the surface.

Closer. Too close- for a kiss that never comes.

“Heh. Cute.”

He doesn’t kiss you.

But before you know it, Geto pitches his tongue back and wets your shimmery pouted lips with a large wad of his syrupy saliva. 

In just a split-second. 

Bowing you back underneath him and stuffing your chatty mouth so damn full of his swollen cock that you can’t even think of anything else. Fat droplets of tears fountain up at the edge of your eyes, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so split open.

He was eight- no, maybe nearing ten whole inches that scraped the back of your mushy throat with his ruthless mushroom tip. 

Hard. Girthy. 

Cratering out a wet circumference of bruises into your melty mouth with a singular thrust, and it wasn’t enough- fuck, it might never be enough.

Geto’s throwing his head back, toned core muscles tensing. “O-oh. This. Th-this is what it feels like?” 

You almost wonder whether he even knew what he was doing once you feel a shaky thigh throwing behind your neck and reel you in close. Drawing you all the way up until your nose scratches his tufted pelvis, mouth hanging wiiidely agape. 

“Sh-shooo big–” You’re mumbling through a scalding mouthful, slicked walls clenching at the realization that he had you trapped in a headlock. And by the looks of it, he was never going to let go.

“Yeah- yeah?” He shudders out, bass cracking into a zillion shatters near the end. Octaves higher. Unsteady. Meanly, Geto’s leg jostles you even further from behind to probe his shaft even deeper into your velvety mouth, your chin buckling underneath his curvaceous ballsack. Holding you still. Firmly. “Fuckin’ l-like that, don’t you?”

You can’t nod. You can’t hum affirmative. He was so bulky inside you that your lips sag underneath the sheer weight.

But your omega preens for the attention, sleek tongue zig-zagging over one of the pounding veins that poked into the roof of your mouth. And it’s enough of an answer for Geto.

Spitting out, “Oh yeah? Dirty girl. Didn’t expect your loser lil’ Sugu to have such a fat fuckin’ dick, huh?” 

So fucking…rude, words teetering right on just the edge of being menacing. And you were just so gorgeous crying all over his cock like this, so much better than when you were hanging off of other alphas. 

So much better when he strays a thumb to feel your filling throat, the way he’s lodged deep inside. Him. All him. 

You let off a whiny gag the moment his blushing red cockhead twitches up ferally at the thought. The static cotton in your head making you slurp his length with a sloppy squelch! 

He’s pushing up his glasses furiously, “Can you even take it? Seriously- acting so popular n’ mighty when you can’t even take my hngh- cock.”

And you’re about to rebuke, you’re about to- you swear.

But oh, he didn’t have mercy now. 

“Whaaaat? M’just saying.” The ridges of his head press up all against every nook and cranny of your mouth, a silvery trail of drool now seeping from between your locked lips. Geto wipes away his own cobwebs of drool with the back of his mouth, giggling. Giggling when you scuffle, “S’it too big? Too big for our f-famous lil’ omega?”

Your throat aches something carnally delicious when he keeps a hold ‘round your neck to plunge into the waterlogged bottom. Bobbing your head in lewd maneuvers allll the way up n’ down. “Ngh- Sugu–” 

“Hah- hah!” His glassy eyes gleam something wild, microscopic tastebuds watering all over again with just how intensely he was gawking down at you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said that his eyes were glowing- “Why are ya still fuckin’ speaking, gorgeous?”

It wasn’t a Command, but oh did it feel like one.

Only mere moments later and Geto’s springing himself off of the bouncy mattress to shovel your hot throat full of copious inches and leave you spellbound. Swirling a lazy few half-circles of his heavy tip where you were most sensitive.

“Cool that pretty lil’ head. You’re cuter when yer like th-this, y’know?” He groans, feeling your slippery cheeks grip his shaft in an adorable hug. Knee drawing up even tighter to hold you still while he fucked your mouth the way he’d been wishing he could for so long. “All shut up a-and mine and…”

Ah, breath wisping away. He’s prodding your poor gag reflexes at the very same time he rovers up a stray hand to squeeze your nostrils together. “-only mine.”

“Nghh- G-etooo—” And yet, he still doesn’t let up. You’re cupping Geto’s plumpened balls with a delicately loving touch, lustrous strands of spit layering your lips. “Want you.”

“Hm?”

“Want you.”

Oh.

Oh.

Those are the very same words he’s been dreaming of every single rut since meeting you. And he can’t help himself, he can’t stop himself from letting out a slew of swears and cumming.

Shocked. 

“Sh-shit—” It’s all Geto can do to bite down on the plush of his bottom lip and wrangle back those embarrassing fucking whimpers on his tongue, dewy eyes sparkling with a few overstimulated tears. “You’re gonna- f-fucking…”

But he’s not given the privilege to finish his thought let alone his sentence. 

Just flooding your senses with the caramel salt of his scent, and his gobs of pearly seed. Every jackhammer has Geto pinpricking it on the back of your bruised and battered throat, every squeeze of his hand around your neck makes him drool out in wiry oodles of sap more and more and more-

“S’what you w-wanted, right?” And you’re sensing the way his scent tinged with something maddened, leaving your eyes popping. “Prancing around with your hah- p-pre-heat panties and your- fuck!” Geto fights to keep his eyes from flapping closed, “Take it- ohhhh take it all.”

As if you could do anything else.

Every tiny twitch leaves your cavern flooded. Geto was cumming so hard that it was overspilling from each crevice of your lips, a silvery waterfall of cum that he’s dabbing around a thumb to smear. 

Letting your pouted lips wobble at the fresh topping of white gloss, “There’s a good girl. My goood fuckin’ girl.” 

Oh, there’s no doubt in your fractured mind right now that Geto Suguru was an alpha. Inhaling his deep puffs of contentment, you’re arching your back mindlessly in delight. Throat loosening with the motions to-

“Don’t swallow.”

So mean. 

You don’t think you’re given the split-second to wonder otherwise before he’s grappling for the pretty column of your throat and kissing you raw. 

You’re gasping when his depraved tongue smacks down between the seam of your mouth to lather in every scorching hot mess of sap he’d left behind. The mess that he made. And he was only making it messier.

Watching you through barely-cracked open pupils while he scooped up the sticky webs of seed dangling from your mouth. Scratchy buds taking over. A kiss so filthy that you felt shy to even call it that. 

“Mmm—” Geto’s skidding his tongue down the buttered length of his lips, flicking over any stray droplets he could find. And something in his eyes told you that he was mere seconds away from doing it all over again. “Not bad for a first kiss.”

Fuck- what?

“Sugu- what-” You’re panting out measly syllables through the gaps of his sappy mouth. “I-I thought you’d be more…”

“What? A heh- bumbling loser?” His eyes narrow down at you, words purring sexily. “Oh, gorgeous…”

Fuck, and if the rasping growl in his tone didn’t shut you up, the way that Geto’s throwing you onto the bouncy bed sure does. 

He doesn’t have a care in the world, he doesn’t have a single thought other than ripping off your flimsy clothes. Everything but those very same cherry pink panties you’d teased up at him, well- more see-through than anything right now.

Kneeing apart your jittery legs to watch the way your cunt gushes in pure need. Lips curling into a leer at the way she winks up at him through filthy masses of slick.

“Sh-she’s mine now, isn’t she?” Rumbling out, eyes wide. Unfocused. And the look on Geto’s face made white-hot trills sprint down your spine - ones you couldn’t decode between primal need and fear. “She’s…”

Ptwah!

The vicious goblet of spit that hits you this time is somehow even meaner than the last, striking at the very top of your sobbing pussy and disappearing riiiight between your folds. 

“Mine.” Awestruck, Geto bullies one capped knee to smooch up against your slit. Gleaming his heated skin with the bucketloads of cute sap that you kept pouring out by the second. Geto was greedy, he was grunting. “Beg for it, omega.”

You’re squirming underneath him impatiently, clawing all over his unmoving wrists. You ached all over for something. Anything. “Don’t- don’t wanna-”

But Geto had ten times your strength and wasn’t afraid of using it. Oh, he wasn’t afraid of using it - wasn’t afraid of pinning down both your trembly hands on the bed springs with one of his. Rutting his knee up even more mercilessly, murking his pheromones until it burned of salt and spice. “Beg.”

You mewl, “P-please-”

“No stuttering.”

“Please.” And if that wasn’t enough, you’re batting your lacquered lashes up at Geto in exactly the way you knew was his weakness. Exactly the way that got you the second-highest GPA for so long. Jutting your back the perfect curvature off of the bed, “I’ll let you k-keep my panties, Suguru—?”

“Oh, giiiirl—” He husks out, leaning in so close to plant a yearning snog on your mouth. Blushing pink lips wrapping around your tongue and sucking. You always got what you wanted. “M’keeping those regardless.”

In his special drawer for all your slutty underwear, of course. 

And just as soon as Geto’s kissing your lips, he’s trekking his way downwards to make sure that your other ones don’t feel left out. 

“Look at her.” He breathes, words taking on an airy tone that makes him sound as if he was furious. Blistering with the anger that he’s been deprived of the heavenly proximity of your soft, seeping cunt for so long. “H-heh, if o-only those tch- popular friends of yours could see. Just look- look how wet she is f’me. All me.”

A fattened thumb fringes past your panties, and you flinch at the cold press of his silver rings. Rovering all the way to greet your puffy pussylips in languid drags uuuuup and down, pricking his manicured fingernail on the button of your clit. 

Geto’s hooded lids widen, heat rushing all over his cheeks at the sloppy squelches he draws out. So easily. Adorably.

And it was true - he did have a tattoo. A splashing inking of a dragon all across Geto’s muscled back, somehow making him even more unintentionally hotter. 

“And look how loud mmm–” He’s kissing the mound of your folds like a lover, lingering. Loving. Stealing deeeeep gasps of your scent, “M’gonna ruin you. Ngh- ohhh, m’gonna r-ruin you, gorgeous. Ruin ya for anyone else.”

And when Geto meant he was going to ruin you - he meant it.

“Shit.” He was going to mush his pretty features up into your sopping wet pussy until you could feel every minute, warm pant. Staring right up into the target of your fuzzy heart-eyes, “How do you- how do you taste so good.”

Every gasp he’s drinking in of your murked perfumed pheromones, showering ‘round every sense and making him dizzy.

“Squeeze- wanna feel-”

And maybe it’s his rut, maybe it’s the way your tension was so thick - but you instantaneously know what to do. 

To close your legs in a deadlock around Geto’s oily scalp. Your weighty eyelids bat up and down subconsciously at the attractive way he was digging his bulging biceps into the sides of your thighs. Pulling you in closer and closer and closer. “That turns you on, huh?”

But that wasn’t all- oh, that wasn’t what he was making out with your cute cunt and begging for. 

His mouth lathers over with a fresh bout of watery spit the moment your rubbery ring of muscle clench all around him. Making every ridge of his hot tongue catch on your gooey innards, the texture of it enough to drive you positively wild. 

“Sh-shiiit–” You’re letting out a primal groan, clawing at his tattooed back. Chest shuddering underneath the strain of one powerful hand pinning you down. Holding you painfully still. “Suguru- want more. More.”

Slipping his slick tongue in and out of your fluttery hole, Geto keens at the way your entrance kept on trying to suck him back in. 

“Fuckin’ know-” In one second, he’s pushing his cloudy glasses up his nose, and in the other he pries apart your puffed lips and caresses. “Yer turning into a fucking w-waterpark, dirty girl. Even wetter than all that p-porn I learned from…”

You’re whimpering, legs falling further n’ further open until it burned your inner quads. No matter how deeply Geto stuffed his face between them it just wouldn’t be enough.

It was almost as if…

“Heat.” He’s slurring a looong lap of his grooved tastebuds all over the lustre of your sweet, sweet juices. Free hand wrapping at his favorite position around your neck and making sure to angle your head so that you catch the twinkling droplets of slick pouring down his tongue. “You’re in heat, little omega.”

Gasping, “W-what?”

But it made sense. It was falling into place and that only made you wetter.

With a smirk, Geto swats your hands until they tangle into his silken tresses. “Lemme take care of you.” SWAT! The plapping sensation hits you before the realization that he’d run his crowned digits over to spank your perked clit. “Ngh- just sit tight n’ let your nerdy ol’ Sugu here take g-goood care of you.”

He was pleading with you - begging you - to latch onto his pretty locks and grind your pussy in repeated gyrations all over his face. Guiding him, using the hook of his pert nose as the perfect ridge to rest your throbbing clit on. 

“Th-thank you, alpha—” Too good. You were giving into something baser, to let your head loll into the cushy pillow behind you in sweeping motions. And it was so cute he could cum. 

“Yeah? Who- who?”

“You, Suguru.”

“Damn right.”

With every drag of his hoarse syllables, Geto was trawling his face across every inch between the beautiful legs that you had to offer.

Purposefully. 

You’re holding back his endless, inky strands just to admire how pretty he looked. How ravenous. Greedy. 

Fuck, Geto was making up for all these years he spent parched. Spitting out streak after streak of spittle that made your pussy pour out all over his snogging mouth. “Gonna- gonna fuck you like this w’my cock next.”

His tongue folds into your slobbery hole and slithers into every tender orifice - so staggeringly long that you were feeling a lump in your own throat. 

Just a few flops into your earliest magical spots and Geto could already hear the way you were fighting to hide your little sobs. 

“Th-this right here-” He’s probing a finger underneath the panties that stuck to your cunt like adhesive, letting it spring back to hit you with a smack! Tittering at your yelp, “S’mine.”

Rubbing a fat few crowns of his fingerpads at the tender area underneath the base of your pussy. Pressing down. Hard. “And her? All the w-way from here-”

Drawing sensual patterns up, up uuuup all the way to your sensitive clit, and oh- it felt so right to have him draw sultry little hearts on your weepy hood. 

Tugging it over to nip underneath one sharp canine - one that you swear had grown even longer in the last few minutes. Geto was gone in the depths of his rut, hallowing out his cheeks to eat you out as if he was a man starved. And you were his favorite dessert. “To here? S’mine, too.”

RIIIIIP—!

Through your glossy heaps of tears, you can make out the fuzzy shapes of Geto tearing your satiny underwear into tatters. Balling it up into a wad of sugarcoated fabric that he unapologetically stuffs in your drivelling mouth.

“Gonna add these t-to my collection.” You feel him smile against the outer edges of your claggy cunt, tittering at the stupid way your overspilling lips slacken with a soggy pwah! You’re hearing and feeling a long-winded woooosh from below once he takes a deeeep breath in with his over-delicate senses. “Th-thereeee we go. Cum all over my mouth, gorgeous.”

And if you were in any better state of mind perhaps you’d have noticed the way that Geto’s driving his hips into the bed like a damn dog when he sensed your scent peaking. Sensed you getting closer.

Ragged breaths striking your quivering pussy mercilessly and making your teeth sink desperately into the muggy jumble of underwear in your mouth. 

Your broken moans burst out even through that particular watergate, right along with a slithery trickle of saliva and a huff of “S-Suguru—” Craning your head to watch his nostrils flare with knowing, “Close- clo- cumming.”

Eyes flashing. Heart thumping not just within your rib cage.

When it rains, it pours. 

But you weren’t just pouring - you were flooding.

Such glutinous ropes of your orgasm, it sprays Geto’s sexy face in squirts. Clinging onto the edge of his glasses and forming little puddles right at the apples of his high cheeks.

Suddenly, you were oh-so-thankful for the way he’d stuffed your mouth mercilessly full - because by the rusted rasp in your throat, you’re sure you’re singing out shrill trills loud enough that his neighbors would file a noise complaint.

But that was the last thing on his mind.

The last thing- well, fuck, it wasn’t on his mind at all. Geto’s cooing at how unstable you feel, treacherous fingers mazing across your fat clit and giving her a goood few pushes just the way he would with his gameboys.

“Good girl-” he spits into your gapingly widened cunt, still suffering from the remnant tremors of your high and still slopping out wads of juices. Like a mantra, Geto’s dark brows scrunch in concentration, “Good girl good girl gooood fucking girl.”

Words hitching up into something shrill near the edge, he sounded as if he was fraying his sanity with every droplet of slick you pumped into his mouth. With every single second. 

Pushing his aching hot cock deeper and deeper into the sullied sheets. More. He needed more. 

Every sloppy swivel of your widely pried-apart pussy on his tongue made him leave an open-palmed smack! on your thigh. Other hand traipsing to pin your hips down with his big, vein-decorated forearm. 

He doesn’t want to let go.

You’re barely letting off a whine at the lack of friction before Geto lets his mouth depart from your cunt with a soggy pwah! Leaving a final few French kisses on his favorite sweet orifice, he’s pecking a loooong open-mouthed pathway up to your loosened maw.

“Good girl…” He hiccups, clammy forehead sticking against yours. Each syllable struggles to wrench past the leaden ball slowly forming on Geto’s mouth. 

The syrup-glazed lenses of his glasses clash into you, and Geto himself seems to notice. “Look what a fuckin’ mess ya made.” He’s gruffing out at the thick topping of oozing gloss that made the frame impossible to see through. 

Immediately pulling back a few millimeters to take them off and dump them on your own nose bridge. Unceremoniously. 

And it was so wet. 

Almost as wet as Geto’s features were - all showered in gunky dredges of glistening sap. It streaks all the way from his pointed chin and up to his handsome cheekbones. Beads of it hitting your panting chest in a pat! pat! pat!

Heaving out a shaky exhale, he’s pushing away a few elegant strands of charcoal bangs. 

“M’gonna…m’gonna fuck you now.” Sounding more as if he was talking to himself rather than you. Or perhaps both. Puffy folds being rubbed all raw with the depraved back and forth of his veiny under-shaft. “Gonna fuck you. So take it- take it.”

Geto stares deep into your whirling eyes while he sinks his hefty cock into you just as thoroughly. A clingy film sticks to his gaze, dazed and all half-hooded that you wondered if he could even register what was in front of him.

Crazed.

And he’s such a fucking tease, too. 

Creating a slimy trail of pasty pre all over your weakened inner thighs, he drags his bawling divot all over every stretch of your entrance. Around and around in circles. 

“B-big, huh? Better take it b-before I- make it- fit-” He’s echoing, dimples peaking out at the cute way your breath hitches once you feel the sheerly massive circumference of his fat tip. “Shhhh shh sh, s’alright- s’where you’re m-meant to ngh- be.”

Even for an alpha, he was always staggering - but having him stuffing you to the brim would be a whole other feeling. Would have you ruined. 

You’re peering up at him through humid lashes, borrowed glasses smearing wet splotches of slick underneath your skin. Eventually, those panties had found themselves spilling out of your unfastened jaw, “Meant to- hah! be?”

“Mhmmm— pretty omega.” You’re hit with a sudden wave of coaxing pheromones, the gentle salty breeze making your hips buck subconsciously upwards. Subconsciously aching. “This s’where you’re ngh- meant to be.”

And as much as Geto loved hearing whiny questions bubble their way up to your spit-layered lips, oh- was it so much more fun to eye down at your speechless self when he snugly squeezes just a mere sensual inch.

Leaning back to watch the way his bustling cock was stretching and stretching and stretching your tender walls flawlessly. You were taking him so ridiculously well. 

“Fuh-fuck you-” His plush pecs rumble with his bass from above, words tumbling. Hips rolling. And Geto was fucking gone- staring at you with wide, humorless eyes that you doubt were even seeing. “Fuck you- m’fucking you…fuck you fuck you fuck!”

With every sharp fah! being whirled into your loose mouth, Geto rubs his puffed-up veins into the tender mound of your cunt. You can’t help but count every rapid ba-dump—! his achy length throbs. 

Desperately. Rutting and rutting just to fit himself inside. 

Around the time he’s only halfway in, Geto circles one hand over his drenched base to skid taut O’s at the edge of your hole. Nudging his fat girth past your entrance and keening-

“M-more!” You’re barking out primally, your tongue tied into all sorts of bows and ribbons with the way this stretch was searing. And it was the best sort of tight fit, you were practically drooling all over again at the fleshy thwack! of Geto’s rounded balls smacking your thighs. “More, Sugu—”

“M-more…?”

It wasn’t just you - your luna needed more, too. 

You’re nodding and nodding- only to realize with a harsh muffle of Geto’s palm over your noisy mouth that he wasn’t even talking to you.

No, he was tittering away in a small sort of voice. Octaves higher. Strained. Goosebumps smatter all across your skin at the way he sounded so unstable. 

“More…” Irises flashing a glowy purple, fingers twitching where he held you. A loser like him. A nerd like him. “M-more she says.”

Fuck. 

Without another word - without another breath - Geto’s flipping you around with only one beefy palm clawing at your hip. Shoving your face deep into the puff of his nerdy pillows, he’s bottoming out with just one thrust-

You think you scream, you think you bawl once you feel his plummy mushroom head draw a long line of pre along the insides of your cervix. And your pussy felt so full you could burst, your walls crushed with all overpacked inches of his.

Finally. 

“Thaaaat’s it, that’s it-” He’s grunting through furiously clenched teeth, a hand crowning the back of your scalp and muffling your words into the bed. Hard. Fuck- he was going to pass out if you made another pretty sound. “S’where you belong.”

Ah, there it is - that little broken prayer.

Except, this time it was being respired in boiling hot pants against the tips of your ears. Was being wheezed out of Geto when he lurches his sweat-simmered hips back to hit your ass with a resounding pap!

“All f-fucked dumb on my ngh- biiig fucking cock, hm?” He tilts your head up with one hand, smiling to himself once he catches a glittery flash of spit leaking from your lips. “All…” A warm splatter! strikes your back, and only then do you realize that he’s slobbering. “Mine.”

And where Geto was talking all possessively - he was fucking you even more so.

In the blink of an eye, he’s planting two sets of fingers on either of your wrists and pulling all the way back, back, back. A length foot being placed right at the small of your spine to get you to bend in a delicious arch-

“Fuck!” Your cute voice rings hoarse, like music to his blushing ears. Struggling to regain the gasps of air leaving your lungs, “There- th-there.”

Oh, shit.

The way Geto was manhandling you was not only bending you in all sorts of lecherously pliable ways that had your slit dripping, it was making his rotund cockhead stub oh-so-viciously into your cervix. 

Rough. Probing. 

“H-heh, guess I lost my first kiss there, too.” He’s giggling out, biting down on the rugged mewls that threaten to depart every time your cunt swallows him whole. “Congrats on being my ngh- first, little omega— yer e-even better than my ngh- bodypillows of you.”

Bending you over ever-deeper, honestly- your walls were cloying onto him so desperately that it was making Geto’s heart pang with disappointment every time his ruddied tip recoiled back from the bottom of your sloppy pussy. 

He wanted to be this close to you forever. 

Treacling out stringy wads of pre, he’s furrowing brows and making sure each n’ every jackhammer fills you up impossibly. 

You can barely grapple for air at this point, the sloshes of syrup left after each barrelling strike leaving you star-struck. 

He grins, “Shit, d-do ya ever stop fuckin’ drooling? Gonna hafta call the f-fire department, girl.”

“Can’t help it–!” All you can do it let your mouth unlatch to warble whimper after whimper–

“C’mon now, gorgeous- aren’t ya ashamed?” Licking his lips free of your taste, Geto diverts more pressure to his foot. Hefty balls rippling wickedly against the sobbing end of your slit with just how easy you were to throw around like his favorite toy. Like his favorite figurines. “Look at what a mess yer making. Being fucked so f-filthy. And I haven’t even ngh- found it, yet.”

Haven’t found it. Oh, but he knew he was going to. He was going to make you scream.

Your syrupy whines slip into something desperate, “Y-you don’t know…?”

“Of course I f-fuckin’ know. Who d’ya think you’re ngh talking to?” As if you could forget you were being thoroughly pounded by the smartest person on campus right now. And evidently the filthiest, too. 

A ringed finger treks down to your sensitive nub, soothing over where you were throbbing the most violently. Cute. Lulling you into a sweet, sweet state of bliss before Geto pinches–

“Oh p-please!” You’re targeting your hazy vision over your shoulder, and somewhere along the lines Geto’s spectacles had slid cleanly off of you. Toes curling as his bloated head bludgeons just the creamy edges near your g-spot. “Please- y-you’re so close, Suguru-”

You didn’t know whether it was your heat or just Geto that had you so desperate. Your sparkless mind blames the latter.

“Am I?” He hums, leaning over so that the soft tendrils of his hair tickled your back. 

Whacking his painfully achy crownhead mere centimeters below your magical spots, and you’re starting to think he’s doing this on purpose. 

Geto starts holding it there for lingering French snogs into the steamy inner depths of your cunt and then you know he’s doing this on purpose. Spitting in your mouth with a smile. 

That mean bastard.

Jittering your hips to chase the texture of his curly pubic hair against your ass, he snickers. “Are you ngh- suuuure? You haven’t done a s-single one of your ngh- human biology essays lately, dirty girl.”

You’re molding your lips into a pout - difficult, with just how many loads of saliva were pouring out of you and cementing a puddle onto the Digimon pillows. “F-fuck you.”

“No…” You set free a gasp of air you didn’t know you were holding the very second he lets go of the rough foot anchoring your spine, instead- in only mere nanoseconds you find yourself jerked up into Geto Suguru’s hold with a hand at your throat. Back gluing against his glissading abs, even his voice was unbalanced and trembling now. “I’m fucking you, little omega.”

And you were about to remember it.

With an immediate pitch of his gasping breaths, Geto’s angled hips go from steadily ruined to sloppy. Calculated. 

He didn’t care if he made a mess of stringy slick that circled in the satiny sheets around the two of you, he didn’t care if your eyes were bulging out of their poor sockets when his pronounced hips dig into your backside with blistering bruises. 

He didn’t care for anything but digging the curled fringe of his fatly bloated tip right into the target of your g-spot. 

Mazing through your gluey folds and keeping them snugly open with his reddened girth, Geto knocks your sweetest spots with vengeance. 

“There–!” You call out, as if he hadn’t already felt the gooey seize of your pussy trying to hold him hostage. 

His mouth trudges over your throat, fingers roaming over to give your clit a nice few pinches. Meaningfully, “Here? Orrrr–” Punctuating each word, each second with a thorough drilling into your g-spot. “-here? Make up th-that ditzy lil’ mind. Seriously.”

Your head drunkenly crashes on top of his collarbone and stays there, “R-right here- there. Both, Sugu.”

“Again with the f-fucking Sugu-” Geto snarls out, though you can sense by his cloudy scent that he was anything but irritated with you. 

Your whines had quietened down into something more of an incoherent mess, and the main things ringing in Geto’s ears right now were the creaky protests of his bed and the clammy plops of his thrusts. 

“C’mon now— where’s my bossy fuck! omega? The one who loves her poor, nerdy Sugu?”

Arousal reaching a peak, and now that he’d found your g-spot, he was probing into it with fat thuds. Not just once or twice. Nooooo, it was over and over and- 

“Just w-wanna cum—” you’re sobbing out. Jerking your body like a bobble-head up and down to further feel the drag of his Herculean form behind you, to savor each ridge and sculpted curve sweatily massaging your back. “P-pleeeeease, Suguru. Let me cum?”

Swerving his tensing hips out alllll the way back to leave solid smooches ‘round your pussy entrance each and every time, and then there were the squelches-

Oh, you were just flooding a slippery sheen all over his hefty, swelling base. A viscid luster of slick that glided all the way down to drip off of his sack n’ between his legs. 

Your eyes manage to snatch themselves open- hissing at the realization that it was pooling especially around that particularly ballooned-up ring right over Geto’s breeder balls. 

Was that? With a shiver you’re rutting backwards, feeling for yourself the slow drag of his proud knot. Bigger than any else you’ve ever seen. It was. 

You rasp, throat itchy and raw. Sweltering droplets of tears streaming down your cheeks when he matches the stuttering beat of your heart with every pressurized push- “P-please.”

“Needy thing. Cum, huh?” Geto drawls out, voice thick with need and something else you were too stupid to register right now. He collides you even tighter against rippling pecs. Taking the sweet, sweet opportunity to poke his nose into your scent gland and steal a looooong breath of your overdriven pheromones. 

“Cum then, c-cum. Fucking cum all over my cock.”

Fuck, it’s with those exact words in mind that you do.

Startling straight headfirst into your high - and you don’t think you’ve even crashed into one wave of bliss before the other overtakes you. And another. And another-

“Oh g-god—” You’re trilling, only held up by the ruthless grip that Geto was maintaining. His hips were deep, and your pleasure even deeper. “-please. Please- please, Sugu-”

He’s hunching over your body ever-so-slightly, resting your thighs against his thick, flexing ones. Only bending you over to kiss your g-spot even more sinfully, Geto’s response comes out ragged into your lobes. “Tch, wh-what now?”

His ruby-red tip was blushing like a strawberry and just as plump - swirling around your treasure trove of spots, pounding you through each peak of your orgasm until you saw stars. 

“Cum i-insiiiide-” Your barely-audible groans spring out into the heady air, adding to its hypnotic mix of perfumes. And it’s not just the heat that made you crave Geto carnally, every pap! against the puffy ring at his base making you crave more more more- “Want it a-all up…”

You’re trailing off, melted mind unable to do multiple things at once. 

With tottering fingerpads, you’re trapping one of his palms underneath your own. Homing itself right above where his rounded tip was stretching open your insides, right above your womb.

“H-here, okay? Don’t miss-” 

You blink up at him and Geto thinks he might just be having a heart attack. Sparks fizzing around his sloshed brain, “Fuh-fuuuuck– don’t talk out of yer pussy, gorgeous.” He spanks your clit once. Twice just to watch your eyes glaze over stupidly. “Or m’gonna get you pregnant.” 

Soothing over that faint bulge he was fucking into your tummy, “Gonna h-have my baby growing allll up in here. Make you round and…” His voice sounds faint, whispering. “-big and…glowing. And…and pregnant.”

But, ah- you never did make it easy for him. Did you? Always had to have your way. 

Which Geto Suguru gladly gave. 

“But I want that, Sugu—” You pout, “Wan’ your knot…please?”

You didn’t have to say another word before Geto’s finishing off in such a messy way, reaching the biggest fucking orgasm he’s had in his entire life. The strongest. The most heavenly and oh- oh, were you an angel?

He’s collapsing onto the drenched sheets before he knows it, pinning you down with the strong v-line of his hips. 

“Shit-” Geto emits through the cracks in his bitten canines. “Shit shit shit- shit-”

You don’t know who’s losing their mind more, you or him. Falling into the well of a second, third, perhaps even fourth orgasm with how blissfully his fattened, split-ended cock bruised every nook of your adhesive-like walls. 

Your saliva cascades in puddles that soak the pillows through. “Suguruuu— a-are you okay-”

“Do I look okay?”

Sexily ridged abs kneading your back, hands scrambling on the mattress, inked shoulders shivering. His swollen knot hits and hits your pussymound. 

And it’s only once his trembly fingers latch around his glasses - fumbling, dropping it copious times before Geto manages to push them haphazardly onto his face. 

Tilting his head back just enough degrees to watch as the curved fringe of his knot disappears past your puffy folds. 

“There we- there…” He’s driveling clingy wads of translucent saliva, letting the stray pouring excess hit your fluttering hole with a splat! One eager thumb of Geto’s hooks into your entrance and bullies it aside to let his incredible perimeter sink iiiiiiiiin-

He’s melting into you now, spent. Ruined. “Get pregnant.” Geto whispers into your sweat-glossed shoulder blade once he feels the back of his knot get fully enveloped into your pussy with a gummy pop! Once he feels himself finally tip over- “Get pregnant.”

And it’s not just mindless babbling - it’s a promise. 

A promise that he rasps out time and time against with every wadded slip of seed that dollops out across your cervix. Pushing it so deep. Smearing acres of ribbony streaks all over your most precious orifices and spots. 

“Gonna know wh-what we did.” Geto whimpers, shit- he couldn’t pound his voluminous ounces of cum into you as aggressively as he wanted with this damn knot. “Entire campus. Professors. Everyone’s gonna know ngh- how I fucked ya full. F-fucked you pregnant. Gonna wonder.”

But that didn’t stop him from trying.

That didn’t stop him from wrenching out a hand to squeeze the ends of your sopping wet slit, forcing down on his very knot. Squeezing out so many numerous dredges of syrupy white cum that thwack! thwack! thwacks! a filthy second skin against your walls. 

“Fuh-fuuuuck— get pregnant, gorgeous.” He’s rutting. Grinding. Humping you like some beast more than man. “Gonna l-look at you all round n’ big and see me- me me me. Get pregnant get pregnant get-” 

Geto’s mouth parts at the pearly dewdrops of seed that leak from the overstuffed ends of your cunt. He can feel his entire body twitch, can feel his sharpened teeth lacquer so rabidly. 

He still wasn’t done.

Still letting one prespired forearm of his dangle around your neck, manhandling you into a fucking headlock. The other tracing the edges of his digits over your glands, squeezing until your skin was all tender and raw. 

And puffy. 

Perfect for him to tilt his head and bite—

“Ohhh- yes!” Every fibre of your being delights at the way Geto’s biting you so hard that you can smell crimson iron. Your pheromone bubble pops! to mix together with his own. Becoming one. And you can scent him - you can feel him. 

Glasses clashing, teeth tearing. Before you know it, you’re doing the same. “Suguruuuu— m’yours.”

Your mate latches onto the curves of your hips - your soon-to-be birthing hips. 

And the way Geto rediscovers that - tucking his face into the ruined, drenched fabric of those cherry pink panties and taking an endless, husky sniff - tells you that this was going to be a long, loooong night. 

“Mine.”

A/N. MMMMMMMMM NERD GETOOOOOOOO

Plagiarism not authorized. 

[bunnis-monsters]

YANDERE FLUFF

A/N: another kofi comm

In the cold, snowy mountains where no regular mortal could reach, you were currently curled up by the fireplace with your nose buried in a good book.

Normally, being so deep in these mountains would mean you were either lost or close to death. For you, though?

“My love!”

Your eye twitched as the door to your room swung open, arms wrapping around your soft frame before you could react.

“I missed you so much, I’m back so don’t worry! You won’t be lonely anymore!”

Kisses were left along your neck, a pair of fangs brushing against your sensitive skin.

“Not now, I’m still recovering after your last feeding.”

The man huffed, but retracted his fangs and nuzzled against your neck instead.

The only reason you were able to survive in such a hazardous and brutal environment was because the person that had brought you there was a creature of the night.

“I am a vampire, you know. It’s not like I want to hurt you, my darling, but I need sustenance like any other living being.”

Technically, he wasn’t alive. He moved, walked, and could talk, but his heart no longer beats and his name was on a gravestone in the courtyard.

Adrian had never been lucky. Although born into royalty, he was the son of the king’s mistress and had been persecuted by his siblings who all wanted the throne. To them, he was no sibling. All Adrian could ever be was a rival.

To thin out the pool of potential rivals, he was poisoned and tossed into the slums outside of the kingdom. Adrian lay there dying, wanting only to seek revenge against those who had him killed.

A vampire was passing by, and turned him.

Adrian slaughtered his family, being satisfied with his revenge and taking his seat on the throne…

But after years and years of ruling his kingdom all on his own… things became dull. Any lovers or friends he made slipped between his fingers as time went on, and he found himself all alone in the abandoned kingdom.

For centuries, he wandered there alone… until you moved into a small home nearby.

It was a bit embarrassing, Adrian fell for you quickly. You resembled the beauty standard from his time. A thick, plump frame, soft features, and the prettiest smile he had ever seen.

Taking you away to stay with him in his castle was easy. Preparing it to be safe for human life once again was the hard part.

Now, you spent a lot of time lounging around and reading books from his vast collection of novels from the library down the hall. He often left for days on end, returning with bags full of food and gifts for you to enjoy.

“Love, I’ve brought you those candies you’re so fond of.”

You perked up at his words, marking the page you had been reading with a bookmark before standing up. “Really?”

Adrian smirked, settling down on the couch and patting his lap. “You know the drill.”

Unfortunately, you did.

With a sigh, you pulled your cardigan tight around you and climbed into his lap, perching yourself on his leg as he let out a satisfied purr. “That’s my good girl… you want your treat, don’t you?”

He caressed your cheek, melting at the way it squished under his fingers. You were so damn soft, he was whipped for you!

“Oh, my precious one…” he cooed, feeding you a piece of candy before nuzzling his face against your head. “You’re just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen… my angel…”

He proceeded to cover your cheeks and neck in kisses, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you in close.

His body was cold to the touch, and there had never been an ounce of comfort or warmth when you curled up in his arms. Well… maybe not warmth, but if you didn’t feel at least a smidge of comfort, then why did you lean into him?

“Reading all day again, hmm? You must be bored, I’m sorry. I’ve brought home some new games and a few movies for you to watch…”

A kiss was pressed into your temple. “How I adore you… if only I could give you the world, my love. You deserve it and so much more…”

Despite the never ending hunger and desperate need to sink his fangs into your neck, Adrian was the most gentle and careful man in existence.

Every time his hand made contact with your flesh, he treated you like glass that could shatter with the slightest bit of pressure.

Perhaps he did love you, in his own way.

So as he doted on you and cooed softly, you leaned forward and pecked his cheek.

“Next time you go out, you should bring home some more blankets.”

His cheeks flushed at the kiss, and his grip tightened around you. With a lovesick look, he nodded.

“Anything for you, my love.”

Kofi and Patreon members got to see this and many other fics early! Consider supporting me there if you’d like early and exclusive content ^^

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YANDERE TAGLIST: @katerinaval @avalordream @atransmuter @bazpire @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @hammerhead96 @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @sandramalikstyles-blog @anonymouskiwi @pedropascalbabygirl @flamefoxx @an-ever-angry-bi @bath1lda @ilyanadelarosa @iswearimnotadrugdealer @whysageee @yumikomoon @rainejiang @lostsomewhereinthegarden

[ramp-it-up]

Fade to Love

Summary: You and Bucky go way back. Way back to when you acted together 20 years ago. You had a crush on him then, but you were too young. Tragedy and artistic passion made you best friends. Will your history make you lovers?

Word count: 4.3 K

Pairing: Actor!Director!Producer! Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: I've been dreaming about this ever since I got my #BuckyBarnesBirthdayBingo by @avengers-assemble-bingo. This fulfills the square: Best Friends to Lovers. As always, I crave feedback, so please let me know how you feel in asks, comments, reblogs and likes. TIA! ❤️

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Best friends to lovers. All of the reckless behaviors that come with growing up in Hollywood, teenage crush, small age gap, young love, tragic loss, idiots in love, cigarette smoking, mutual pining. Then comes the smut. :)

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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

———

This was deja vu all over again.

The paparazzi swarmed the studio as you and Bucky arrived for your meeting at the studio. After all, you'd spent your teen years under the camera’s glare, a co-star in an ensemble drama series, Idol’s Ridge, that captured the hearts of millions 20 years before. 

During those five years portraying Sophie Randall, you’d met the people who’d become your best and enduring friends. Sam Wilson, who played your older brother, Peter Randall, Carol Danvers, who played your best friend, Morgan Blair, and James “Bucky” Barnes who played Sam’s Best friend and Morgan’s older brother, Jack Blair. 

There were several other actors from the show with whom you’d remained cordial and friendly, but this was your core group. 

But today? Today was different. Today, you were meeting in a creative capacity, not just as an actress. You were going to control the narrative. 

The past twenty years had been a whirlwind. A marriage, scandal, and a career that had taken unexpected turns. You'd left the acting world long ago, but here you were again, standing next to Bucky Barnes, one of your best friends. Someone who’d been through it all with you.

Bucky, with his model handsome looks, dark hair and true blue eyes, was more than just a pretty face. His career had been varied, lucrative, and meaningful.

He was now reaching phenomenal heights. And he was the one the tabloids still associated you with, before, during, and after your marriage, even after all these years. 

The shipping of the characters was inappropriate at the beginning, but toward the end of the run when you were an adult, Idol’s Ridge fans were calling for Jack to notice Sophie, and wanted you and Bucky together, even though you never dated.

It was others pushing that narrative, always trying to create drama where there was none, not you two. 

You and Bucky were just friends.

But if you were being honest, that “what if” had been curling around your mind since you were a kid with a crush on a co-star who was too old for you. 20 to your 15 when you first started the show, Bucky didn’t spare you a second glance in a romantic capacity, but he took you under his wing and protected you, calling you his “Little Star.” 

He decided that nothing was going to ruin your innocence, lecturing you all the time about the pitfalls of fame at a young age, even as he was reveling in those pits. If he knew you wanted him to ruin you, he didn’t let on.

Bucky’s decency did nothing to sway your heart away from him. In fact, it only made him more appealing. You always had a soft spot for Bucky Barnes.

If Bucky noticed you growing up and becoming a woman, he didn’t let you know. You were always his little sidekick, not quite a sister, but definitely not a romantic interest.

Perhaps it was because his best friend, another rising star in tv and film, did. 

Steve met you briefly when he was filming in LA and hanging with Bucky. They were roommates in New York and best friends, having known each other as child actors from Brooklyn.

After he met you when he was 24 and you were 19, Steve talked about you all the time to his best friend and begged Bucky to give you his number. 

Bucky refused, citing the fact that you were not ready for the likes of Steve Rogers, the golden boy heartthrob actor who partied harder than he did. Yes, that was the reason.

On the night of your 21st birthday after Idol’s Ridge was over, you had a get together in Manhattan, because you were filming a movie in New York City. You invited Bucky who was now based out of Brooklyn, and Steve was not going to miss this opportunity to get next to you.

That night, 25 year old Steve Rogers bought you a drink, and the next morning, Bucky heard you two in the room next door, cursing his, and Steve’s, timing. The rest was tabloid history: the whirlwind romance, the young, impetuous marriage, the substances, the breakout films, the nominations, the miscarriage, the rumors, the tragedy. 

You were a widow at the age of 26, the caretaker of the legacy of one of the most talented young actors of your generation. Gone too soon.

Bucky was there for you, and you for him, feeling the loss as no one else could. When you were ready to get on with life, you and Bucky created Valkyrie Production Company as a tribute to Steve.

While you slowed your acting career way down before 30 years old, only taking on about one indie film project a year, Bucky’s career had taken off. 

He’d transitioned from actor to actor/director, and of course, actor/director/producer. You watched him get engaged to Natasha Romanov, one of the older Idol’s Ridge alums, break up, and then date a string of actresses and models, but nothing ever stuck.

You didn’t understand. He could be a bit intense, but Bucky was such a good guy. He deserved happiness. Now, he was a 40 year old single successful actor slash slash with no family to speak of but you.

“Ready to roll?” 

Bucky’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You blinked, taking a step back into the moment. You smoothed your pencil skirt down your hips, which were wider now than they were 20 years earlier. You wondered what production would think of you at 35, no surgical augmentation, just naturally you in a sea of plastic.

Bucky was the same way, his dark hair and beard peppered with gray and crows feet framing his striking eyes. But on him they were ‘sexy.’

Women were held to a different standard.

You missed Bucky appreciating your curves and your looks as you bit your lip and looked up at him with those big eyes.

Bucky’s heart clenched when you smiled at him. So fucking beautiful.

“Yeah. Let’s make magic, ” you murmured.

Bucky was a goner. 

He loved your voice since you developed the lower register of your tone. It was one thing that the critics and fans raved over in anything you did.

He chuckled at how you’d trashed his trailer when he’d tried to hide your cigarettes from you that one time. It was all for naught, since you quit 18 months after you started. 

He didn’t know that you’d just done it to hang out with him outside the soundstage door, stealing time. But it had permanently changed your voice into something that cemented your icon status in the present day, despite your limited career.

Bucky grinned that boyish grin, the same one he’d flashed a thousand times when you were on set together all those years ago. It made your heart do that little flip it always did, despite everything.

You had a meeting with the studio execs to discuss the next project, a reboot of the very series you'd starred in all those years ago, Idol’s Ridge.

It was too perfect, too full of nostalgia. But it also felt strange.

You glanced over at Bucky as he started talking to the execs. He was charismatic, confident, everything he had always been. But there was something in the way he kept glancing at you. His eyes were more intense, more aware of your every movement. 

It was unsettling, especially the premise he pitched. 

You finished up with the execs and stepped outside the back entrance for a quick break and Bucky lit up a cigarette, something you hadn’t seen him do in years. 

“You’re quiet today,” he said, leaning against the wall. You inwardly railed at him smoking again, but he was grown. You watched the smoke curl around him through narrowed eyes. Then you grabbed the cigarette from his fingers and took a drag.

“Don’t do that, Star…”

You raised an eyebrow at him and then inhaled, Bucky watching you closely. Too closely, you might have thought if you noticed the way he watched your mouth after you removed the cigarette.

Bucky put the cancer stick in his own mouth and closed his eyes as he took his own drag, tongue chasing the filter as he removed it to exhale. He peered at you through the smoke, licked his lips and then dropped the half smoked bone on the ground, extinguishing it with the sole of his brown Ferragamo.

“We quit.”

You laughed and leaned on the stucco wall with your hand, staring up at him while he smiled down at you. This was your thing, this unspoken language that was understood but not explicit.

You worked together, but it was always more than that. 

You were waiting for him to speak, but Bucky could always wait you out.

“James.”

You punched him on the arm. Hard. 

“Ow!”

He laughed and rubbed his arm as he looked down at his shoes, smiling.

“You can do it, Star. I believe in you.”

You rolled your eyes at the old nickname. He always told you that you were the brightest little star on the set. 

“But Bucky…”

You thought you lost it when Steve disappeared. But you couldn’t lose that feeling, so you took small roles, just to have permission to be someone else for a time.

Your films were critically acclaimed, but your confidence was shot.

“You can do it.”

You appraised Bucky. Something had shifted. Maybe it was the project, or maybe it was something more. Bucky looked right back at you, his expression softening. 

“Are you in or are you out, Star?”

“I’m in,” you said, your voice steady and sure.

He tilted his head, studying you. 

“Good. Because I need you.”

“You’ve always needed me,” you said, half-joking, half serious.

Bucky chuckled. 

“Yeah, well, this time it’s different.”

You could feel your heart pounding. He was looking at you like he’d never looked at you before. Like he was really seeing you. But you were reading too much into things again.

You took a deep breath.

“You know, I’ve always trusted you, right? With everything. You’re the only person I’ve never felt like I had to pretend with.”

You took his hand and Bucky looked down at you tangling your fingers with his. 

He should tell you. 

“I know, Buck. You’re my best friend.”

There it was. The friend zone. Bucky sighed, but held on to your hand.

“Although we didn’t talk about that one plot point.”

You released his hand and crossed your arms, pushing your breasts up in your sweater. Not that Bucky noticed that sort of thing.

Bucky looked at you, one eye closed, squinting from the LA sunlight. Or was it because you were so gorgeous? 

To you, his glance felt loaded, like there was something you couldn’t ignore anymore. But of course you tried.

“Which one?”

You smiled at his evasion.

“You know. The one where our characters are married now?”

Bucky smirked.

“We discussed this being centered around the children of the cast from 20 years ago.”

You huffed, frustrated.

“Yes, Bucky, but our characters were never a thing.”

He stood up and walked two steps toward you, into your space.

“Not true. Sophie always had a crush on Jack, but he blew you off. It’s 20 years later, he’s grown up and finally appreciates the beautiful woman who was always right there in front of him.”

You looked up into his clear blue gaze and had a scorching comeback for him.

“Oh.”

He reached for your face, palm resting on your cheek, thumb brushing at the side of your nose.

“Hold up…” 

Bucky moved even closer and brought his face close to yours, warm menthol breath hovering over your own. He pulled his hand back and looked at it, showing it to you briefly. You didn’t see anything.

“Eyelash.”

He opened the door and held it for you as you tried to get your soul back into your body.

“Break time is over.”

—--

The next hours were a blur.

The production meeting went long as you brainstormed for the reboot, and you and Bucky worked seamlessly together, bouncing ideas off each other and firing on all cylinders. The dynamic was amazing and reignited your old crush.

You went to Bucky’s LA home after the meeting, excited at the preliminary greenlight for the project. You both decided to work on an outline that weekend to deliver to the studio Monday morning.

You’d gone home to pack a bag and get your essentials, as Bucky said you could bunk in one of his guest rooms. 

It would be like a sleepover with one of your girlfriends, sweet, innocent and fun.

But after eating takeout tacos from Leo’s, you got to work in Bucky’s home office, and the vibe was thriving, but different. Every time your hands brushed as you passed papers or exchanged a glance, it was electric.

The air arced between you, but you couldn't tell if it was just you, or if Bucky felt it too. 

As you sat looking at the whiteboard with the preliminary outline of the pilot episode, Bucky leaned back in his chair and regarded it, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

“This shit is fucking brilliant. It’s going to be better than the original.” 

You looked at him, excitement coursing through you. You smiled at him and got up to walk behind his chair to lean on it and admire your ideas, as if you could see better what he meant from his perspective.

“I can’t believe it’s really happening.” 

You leaned down and whispered in his ear, afraid to voice it too loud. Bucky swiveled around in his chair to look at you. You were still in your outfit from this morning, too excited when you pack to change into something more comfortable. You looked gorgeous. 

He stood up and grabbed your hands in his.

“Better believe it, Star, we’re going to do this thing big.”

You squeezed his hands back and looked up into his beautiful blue eyes. Bucky’s hands were on your arms now and he was drawing you closer.

“Couldn’t do this without you, Star. I love… working with you.”

Your stomach flipped as he murmured at you. You inhaled the spice of his cologne and savored his touch while listening to his voice.

But your stomach dropped when you heard the ‘L�� word and you didn’t know what happened; just like Sophie and Jack all those years ago, you didn’t know what came over you when you pressed your lips to Bucky’s.

You had every intention of ending the contact before it began, but Bucky’s hands were now in your hair and tugged you close. He turned and lifted you onto his desk, stepping between your thighs, pressing them wide enough so that your skirt fought the movement.

It only made everything hotter. 

Bucky used his hold on your hair to tilt your head so he could kiss down your neck. You arched your back, needing his mouth all over you, needing him to rip you out of the clothes that had the nerve to create a barrier between you. 

For some unknown reason to your cunt, words emerged from your lips,

“We shouldn’t.” 

“Why not?” 

He pushed your cardigan off your shoulders and nudged your tank top lower so that he could mouth at your cleavage. Your panties flooded with wetness. 

“We’re both grown, Star.” 

The acknowledgement in Bucky’s rumbling voice sent a bolt of pleasure straight to your core. He skated his hands up your thighs, pushing your skirt higher until you had to lift your hips to allow it to bunch around your waist. He fingered along the edges of your panties. 

He looked down.

“Black lace. Fuck.” 

He cursed low enough that you had to strain to hear him. He licked his lips, his saliva making them look so delicious. 

“Can I touch you, Starlight?”

You shivered at the nickname and nodded, breath caught in your throat.

“Need your words, Baby. Need that beautiful voice.”

“Yes, Bucky. Please touch me…”

Bucky’s fingertips traced your clit through the fabric. 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you.” 

“Me too,” you whispered, and he met your gaze, which threatened to stop his heart. 

His blue eyes were fire, bright enough to make your whole world glow. If you let him, he’d sweep you away and ensure you enjoyed every second. You wanted it. To be swept away by him. 

Bucky started the torturous slide of his thumb over your clit. You threw your head back and whined, caught up in a nirvana you’d only dreamt about.

“Bucky! Dont…”

He stopped what he was doing, stilling his hand over your cunt.

“Don’t?” 

His voice was broken, and pleading. You used your free hand to cover his where he cupped your pussy. 

“...Don’t stop Bucky….” 

Still he didn’t move, searching your face for answers you didn’t have. You drew in a shuddering breath. Bucky’s slow smile sent your stomach into a dizzying flip. 

“Naughty girl. You want to use me for your pleasure. Your own personal sex toy.” 

You dragged your gaze over him, from his dark hair, to those wicked blue eyes, to his sinful mouth, down to the pants clearly sporting a huge hard-on. You grew bold in the knowledge that he’d started this. 

Bucky Barnes wanted you, too.

“I have a sex toy. In fact, I have several. None of them look a thing like you.” 

His laughter rolled through you. 

“I guess I have work to do. Need to retire some sex toys. Check.” 

“You’ll have to work real hard. I’m kind of attached to them, especially Arthur. Haven’t had real cock in 2 years.”

Bucky arched his eyebrow and hooked his fingers through your panties and dragged them down your legs, stepping back so you could kick them off. 

“I’m disturbed that you named your vibrator.”

“Dildo,” you corrected.

He chuckled and shook his head.

“But I’m up for the challenge of making you scream my name…”

Bucky went to his knees between your spread thighs, looking at your pussy so intensely you could feel it like his touch. 

“And I won’t tell you that I’ve jacked myself to the thought of you countless times over the years.” 

“Bucky…”

He pressed a painfully gentle kiss to each thigh and then his breath ghosted over your clit. 

“I sure as hell won’t tell you that when I fucked my hand, and imagined being inside you, that I came so fucking hard, Star, just from thinking about being buried in you to the hilt.”

You tried to focus past the pleasure of his mouth, his big hands holding your thighs wide as he devoured you. But his words had you floating.

“I… You fantasized about me?” 

Bucky licked up your slit and then kissed it, looking up in your eyes before he answered you.

“Hmmm. Yes. I did.” 

He sucked on your clit hard enough to make your back bow. 

“Eating you out...” 

Another long lick and a smile that he was accomplishing that very thing. 

“You on your knees for me...” 

The image in your mind of looking up at Bucky made you clench down and Bucky smiled at your pitiful pussy.

“...Bending you over something, like this desk, and fucking you hard…”

You whimpered, your pleasure building as much from the fantasy as from Bucky’s mouth. 

“... Maybe taking that ass…”

He rolled his tongue over your clit, working you in just the way you needed. 

“....cuming inside you, or all over your back. I’ll let you choose.”

“Oh! Bucky!”

You were practically screaming as you tried to slow your pleasure, to make it last, but Bucky drove you to the brink and you couldn’t resist him. You came with a cry that filled the room around you.

Bucky didn’t give you a chance to recover, though. He stood and stepped back between your thighs to take your mouth. You tasted yourself on his tongue and it made your toes curl. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist and he lifted you off the desk easily and walked you down the hallway, still kissing you, never missing a step. 

“You’ve done this before,” you murmured. 

“Not like this. Never this.” 

He kept you pinned to him with one arm around the small of your back and used his other hand to pull your tank top off. You ran your hands down his muscled chest. He really was too beautiful. It almost hurt to look at him and touching him only magnified the sensation. 

He spun and pinned you between his body and the wall next to the door, thrusting against you. The seam of his pants pressed against your clit and you cried out. 

“More.” 

Bucky dragged his mouth up your neck and set his teeth against your earlobe and that set you on fire.

“You’re so needy, Star. I get it, I really do. Been wanting to show you how I feel for 14 years…” 

You gasped and Bucky’s teeth scraped against your lip, making your nipples tighten in response. He let you down and stepped back, running his hand through his hair.

“Strip.”

There wasn’t much left to take off, but you obeyed and his grin made your heart stutter. 

“On the bed.” 

You crawled on the mattress and reclined among the pillows. You were rewarded by Bucky stripping out of shirt, and his pants and underwear in one go, shoving the material down his strong thighs and kicking free of them, leaving him naked. 

The sight of his large cock straining against his stomach had you biting your bottom lip.

You knew what came next.

You craved it. And you forgot all about Arthur. You reached for him. 

“Don’t make me wait any more, Bucky.” 

He pulled a string of condoms from the nightstand and tossed them on the bed next to you. You counted six and raised your eyebrows. Bucky gave you an unrepentant grin.

“One condition.” 

“Damn it, Bucky.” 

Of course there were conditions. 

“Stay in my bed tonight. Another fantasy of mine.” 

You melted. Why not? It was finally time to have what you wanted. And you wanted Bucky.

You met those intoxicating blue eyes and nodded. 

“Yes.” 

“Thank fuck.” 

He was on you in seconds, shoving your legs wide and he ground the base of his cock against your clit. He tangled his fingers in your hair and took your mouth like you were the sweetest fruit and he’d never get enough. 

You reached blindly over and grabbed a condom. You tore the wrapper with your teeth and you rolled it over his cock. He allowed it, shifting back to give you the room to work.

Your body cried for him; you needed him inside you and you needed it at that moment. You lay back and  guided him into you and he thrust in slowly, inch by inch, until he had sheathed himself completely. 

Oh god. The stretch. Bucky broke free of your mouth and pressed his forehead against yours, your breath mingling between you. 

Each of your exhales came out as, “Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.” 

He gentled his touch, stroking your hair as if you were a wild animal he was taming. 

“Stay with me, Starlight. I’ve got you.” 

As if this was something that was forced upon you, rather than what you grabbed with greedy hands because you wanted it so badly. 

You smiled, blissful. Fucked out, enjoying the feeling of Bucky’s cock pouding inside you. You needed more.

“Please move, friend. Fuck me, Bucky.” 

You hitched your leg around his hip so you could take him deeper and leaned up until your lips brushed his ear.

“I need it hard.” 

Bucky squeezed his eyes together and bit his lip as the pounding of his cock increased. You both thought he would cum right then.

“‘M not your fucking friend…”

He pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up even as he impaled you again. 

“You want me to fuck you hard?” 

“Yes!” you moaned. 

“Knees wider, Starlight. Let’s go.”

Bucky slapped your ass and then grabbed a handful of your thick hair, tugging at just the right amount of pain to go with the pleasure.

The first stroke was slow.

“Fuck, you’re gripping me like a fucking vice. Almost had me cumming a few minutes ago.”

You could tell that Bucky’s teeth were gritted when he spoke. He had to brace against the urge to rut into you like a wild animal, but his pace and intensity increased. 

For long, mind-blowing minutes, he thrust into you, paying attention to your sounds and movements to know that he was hitting that spot inside you. You meet him thrust for thrust as Bucky began to fuck you like his life depended on it.

He made the mistake of looking down at how your ass took the shock waves of his back shots and the evidence of your arousal left on his cock as he pistoned inside you and he cursed.

“Fucckkkkk! You should see the beautiful cream you’re leaving on my cock, Star. So fucking hot.”

The way you moaned set him on the road to orgasm and again and he reached for your clit, rubbing his thumb over it. Almost as soon as he did, you screamed his name and shattered beneath him. Bucky followed you headlong over that cliff and collapsed beside you, dizzy.

He looked over to see you already falling asleep, exhausted. He kissed your temple and went to the bathroom to dispose of the condom, coming back with a washcloth for you.

When he was done cleaning you up, he gathered your boneless body in his arms, pressing kisses to your forehead as you curled into him, your head on his chest and leg thrown over his. 

It was like you didn’t want to let him go.

“I know the feeling, Star,” Bucky whispered as he closed his eyes.

A feeling settling in his chest that he’d almost, but not quite, ever felt before.

[beloveds-embrace]

Ok Duke au but only one of the boys fell for user! Maybe it was when she first came to the castle/ house, yk if Price ain't gonna give her love then let him!

Or maybe feelings showed up slowly, finally realizing that maybe he should go finally interact with her grace, seeing as she avoids any interactions with others.

Sorry if it makes no sense, I tried to make the decision of which boy falls only for user up to you, minus price >:)

i didn't want to make this too angsty fjddkcj </33 so it's more of the normal dukedom au

Kyle knows he shouldn’t; it isn’t part of the arrangement.

You were meant to be a formality, a necessity, a woman to fill a role, nothing more. And for a while, you had been just that. Sweet and competent, always carrying yourself with quiet dignity no matter the murmurs of high society. A wife in name, a duchess in duty, a friend of theirs, but never a true part of their world.

John had expected you to remain at a distance, and in return, you had been given a life of luxury and protection. That was the agreement. That was how it should have stayed.

But Kyle should’ve known better.

He should have known the moment you leaned over his shoulder one evening, peering at his bookkeeping notes with genuine interest instead of mere obligation. He should have known the moment you scolded Johnny for burning his hand, or when you’d pressed a cool cloth to Simon's temple after a headache instead of calling for a servant.

He should have known when you stopped seeing them as just your husband’s lovers.

But the real moment of downfall- the moment that shattered any fragile delusion he held- was when you smiled at him.

Not a polite smile, not a passing pleasantry.

A real smile.

It had been late. You had been working over estate documents at the desk, and he had lingered, pretending to tidy up, pretending to have something important to do. And then, you had looked at him, eyes warm, lips curving in a way that made something in his chest lurch.

"You work too hard, Kyle. Come sit down with me ?"

You had said his name. Not 'Mr. Garrick,' not 'the head butler.' Just Kyle. And it wasn’t the first time, but it was the first time it made his heart ache something fierce and longing.

Because it was too soft. Too familiar. Too much like a wife speaking to a husband.

And now, he is here, standing beside John as you make your absurd little request, completely unaware of the way his hand clenches against his side.

You are oblivious, as you always are, so innocent in your own kindness. You do not see the way John’s gaze darkens, the way Kyle stiffens at your words.

"I am merely a bit… unsatisfied."

Your voice wavers slightly at the admission, and Kyle wonders- if he had been the one to claim you, if he had been the one to hold you at night, would you ever have been unsatisfied?

He bites the inside of his cheek and looks away, even as John’s fingers tighten around his glass.

Something tells him neither of them will let you remain unsatisfied for long.

But he knows the truth.

Even if you are claimed, even if you are made theirs, it will not be by some stable boy.

And that knowledge alone fills him with smug satisfaction.

He doesn’t miss the way John’s grip tightens around his glass, and he knows that if the other two were here as well, Simon's jaw would have tensed and Johnny would have lost all his amusing charm. You are oblivious, of course- always so sweetly naive, thinking you can simply ask for something like this and have it granted without consequence. But this? This will never happen.

John would never agree to this.

And Kyle is relieved. Relieved that your foolish little request will be swiftly discarded. Relieved that you will stay exactly where you belong- here, with them, under their watchful eyes.

You don’t even realize what you’ve done, do you? You think this arrangement is still just convenience, that they merely tolerate you. But Kyle sees it- the way even Simon looks at you during dances, the way Johnny slips you extra sweets as if bribing you into affection, the way John has begun watching you more intently, possessively.

You’ve wormed your way into their hearts, tangled yourself so deeply into their lives that they can’t ignore you anymore.

And Kyle?

Kyle is pleased.

Because it means you are theirs, whether you realize it or not. And no matter how much you pout over John’s rejection, you’ll never be anyone else’s. Because even if he'd been the first to fall for you, he did not need to worry about the others not liking you as well. And now, he will not need worry about anyone else taking you from them.

Not now, and not ever.

[mononijikayu]

until i found you — ryomen sukuna.

"I figured you’d be into something more... aggressive music." you admitted, watching as he leaned back, arms crossed, listening intently. He scoffed. "What, you think I only listen to music that makes me wanna fight people?" "...Yes?" "Tch. Idiot." He turned his attention back to the music, tapping his fingers idly against his knee. "This one’s alright. But Tchaikovsky’s better." Your jaw dropped. "Wait, you like Tchaikovsky?" "Yeah? And what?" You shook your head in disbelief. "I just... I wouldn’t have guessed." "What, you think I don't have taste?" "I know you don’t have taste."

Genre: Alternate Universe — College! AU;

Warning/s: Short Fic, General Rating, AFAB! Reader, Use of She/Her, Use of Female Centered Identification, Pet Names (Babe, My Love, Etc), Romance, Fluff, Humour, Love, Comfort/No Hurt, Established Relationship, Lovers, Dating, Feeling, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Idiots In Love, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Teasing, Healthy Relationship, Friendships, Profanity, Swearing, Violence, Depiction of Violence, Mention of Violence, Volleyball Captain! Sukuna, Boyfriend! Sukuna, Girlfriend! Reader;

Words: 8.6k words.

Note: i'm so sorry for the delay on the satosugu fic, the time frame of my schedule is not allowing me to go and finish it. its going to be delayed. as my apology, please enjoy this litle thing from me. also, im opening commissions, so if you wanna commission me, look here!!! in any case, i love you all so much. see you soon <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

lovesick playlist

IT WAS NOT LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT LIKE EVERYONE THINKS IT IS.  Not all love stories were meant to be that, after all. But it was interesting nonetheless that it was how you got to know about him for the first time.

The first thing you heard from where you stood was that rather brutish hit of impact. A dull, sickening thud followed by a sharp grunt of pain.

The loud and rowdy crowd that had gathered near the school gate was already thick by the time you arrived. At the back where you stood, their voices a mix of eager whispers and nervous gasps.

A fight wasn’t uncommon near the school, there were quite a lot of delinquents in your school. Even the teachers were wanting to stay clear of it. But the sheer energy in the air told you this wasn’t just any fight. 

You pushed up on your toes trying to see above all these tall figures, craning your neck to see past the wall of uniformed backs. And that’s when you spotted him. Your eyes couldn’t help but widen at the sight you were seeing now. 

That pink haired standing tall above that guy.

His name escaped you, but you’ve heard of him. His name carried weight even in places he had never stepped foot in. If anything, it brought chills to people’s spines. The goosebumps were always felt just at the mention of his name, just as much as fear echoes when you catch his darkened eyes. You’ve never seen him before, that was for sure. But you’ve heard of him. And he had quite the name. 

This is what your friends were talking about. This is a delinquent in the purest sense—not the kind that smoked behind the gym and skipped class for fun, but the kind who sent people to the hospital and still walked away with that damned smirk on his face. And he was smirking now.

Even with the blood bellowing down on his lip, the brutally raw scrape on his knuckles ensuing through each punch, the loose tie hanging off his collar. You could tell he just really looked bored.

That had surprised you more than anything, if you were being honest. You thought that this would at least feel like a thrill for him. Violence usually feels like that. You would have thought a delinquent would feel that way.

Yet it was like he was toying with the guy in front of him, who was hunched over helplessly, clutching his ribs and struggling to breathe at the act of being beaten down by the fiend in front of him.

And still, it was the most uninteresting thing he’s ever found himself doing. This fuschia haired young boy seemed so bored at the prospect of this kid not being able to fight back, or be interesting.

“Oi.” Sukuna drawled, tilting his head as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You done already? That’s pathetic.”

The other guy barely managed to lift his head before the fuschia haired kid moved—fluid, effortless, the kind of speed that made it clear this wasn’t just some reckless brawl. His fist collided with the guy’s jaw, sending him staggering back into the school gate with a loud clang.

“I thought you’d have more fun fighting, huh? You were having so much fun staring at a girl’s skirt just a bit, weren’t you? Come on, you prick. Get up!” 

Somewhere in the crowd, someone flinched. 

Someone else muttered a curse under their breath.

And you—you just stared at what was happening in front of you.

It wasn’t just the violence that had you frozen. It was the way he carried himself, the sheer audacity in every motion. He wasn’t just winning. He was playing over and over again like it was a game, even if it wasn’t. Like a predator dragging out the inevitable just because he could. And he wanted to hunt, he wanted to eat the weak from down under his feet. 

Then, his scarlet gaze lifted.

For a single, breathless second, your eyes met.

A slow, deliberate shift came about him. It was like he had known you were watching the entire time but only now decided to acknowledge it. The corner of his mouth curled upward, something dark and knowing twisting in his expression.

He had noticed you.

A strange heat crawled up your spine, a mix of adrenaline and unease. You weren’t sure what unnerved you more. The fact that he had seen you, or the fact that you couldn’t look away.

 His gaze had been fleeting. It was just a flicker of recognition before he turned back to his opponent. Yet, the fight wasn’t over.

And for some reason, you got the feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time Ryomen Sukuna looked your way. The thought made something tighten in your chest. Then all that was left was a a sharp crack.

A dull, sickening thud as his beaten opponent hit the pavement, groaning in pain. You barely had time to process it as you held your breath, before someone beside you finally snapped out of their stunned daze.

“Someone there, please go and call the teachers to break up the fight!”

The voice jolted you back to reality. A murmur rippled through the crowd—some of the students were panicked, the others seemed to be too excited, some already pulling out their phones and calling help, some were taking a video. 

But that pink haired kid? 

He just laughed.

Low, rough, full of something almost thrilled as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, like the fight had barely warmed him up. The poor bastard groaned, barely managing to lift his head before slumping back down.

“You done?” he asked, gaze dropping to the guy on the ground.

The pink haired kid merely scoffed, brushing dust off his uniform before turning away, completely unbothered. Then his gaze flickered up again. Right at you. It barely lasted only a second. But it was intentional. Like he was acknowledging you. Marking you.

And just like that, with teachers finally rushing onto the scene, that kid with the pink hair turned on his heel and walked off, slipping through the growing chaos like he hadn’t just left another name to fear in his wake. You exhaled, stomach tight, fingers curled into your sleeves.

You should forget this. Forget him.

But you knew—deep down, you wouldn’t.

And something told you that he wouldn’t, either.

══════════════════

YOU WERE SURE THAT THIS WAS GOING TO BE YOUR PEACEFUL TIME. After all, the school rooftop was supposed to be empty during lunch time. Lately, it has been your sanctuary after a long morning of back to back classes.

It was the one place you could escape to when the noise of everything became too much, when the dull routine of school felt suffocating. Up here, the wind was sharp, the air felt clearer, and for just a little while, you could be alone.

But today, someone else was here.

Someone wasn’t supposed to be there.

Yet you can tell someone up there from just the slit of the door.

You quickly noticed him the moment you stepped through the rooftop door. It was a figure sprawled across the concrete near the fence, arms behind his head, one knee bent, the other leg lazily extended.

Even before you fully registered who it was, your body tensed, instincts screaming at you to retreat. But then your eyes landed on his face, and your breath caught in your throat. That kid from the fight on the first day.

Wait, what the hell? You think to yourself almost panicked. Why is he here?

You tried to remember his name for a moment, racking your brain.

That’s right! You gasped quietly to yourself. It’s Ryomen. Ryomen Sukuna. That’s what his name was!

Even asleep, he looked like trouble. His uniform was rumpled, the first few buttons undone, his tie discarded somewhere beside him. A faint cut graced his cheekbone. It seems to be fresh, like he had gotten into another fight earlier but couldn’t be bothered to clean up before crashing here. He must have been exhausted from the fight.

You should leave. You really should. The last thing you needed was to get caught in his orbit. But the thought of giving up your quiet retreat made frustration coil in your stomach. So, with careful, measured steps, you sat down a few feet away, placing your lunch in your lap and making sure to keep your movements silent. Maybe—just maybe—if you were lucky, he wouldn’t wake up.

You weren’t lucky. It happened in an instant. A low breath, a subtle shift. Then, his scarlet eyes snapped open. A cold, sinking weight settled in your chest as your gaze locked with his.

It was the first time you had ever seen his eyes up close. 

They weren’t just sharp, they were dangerous. It was like a blade that glinted under the light, beautiful in its lethality. There was no haze of sleep in them, no confusion. Just silent, unwavering awareness. A predator waking to find someone in its space. His gaze flicked over you, slow and deliberate, before settling back on your face.

“…...The hell are you staring at?” His voice was rough from sleep, low and edged with irritation.

You stiffened, fingers tightening around your chopsticks. Your brain scrambled for a response, something that wouldn’t make this worse. “…Nothing.”

His thick brow twitched. For a second, you thought he might call you out on your lie. But he seemed too tired to even care. Ryomen Sukuna let out a lazy scoff, stretching his arms over his head with a bone-popping crack before settling back down.

“Tch. Whatever.”

And just like that, he closed his eyes again.

You blinked. That was it?

No sneering remarks? No challenge?

The tension in your chest didn’t ease, but the kid didn’t seem to care about your presence anymore. Like you weren’t worth his energy. Like you were barely an afterthought.

The wind carried the distant sound of the school bell ringing in the distance, signaling the lunch break was halfway over. You forced yourself to exhale, slow and steady, before finally peeling open your lunch box.

Maybe, just maybe, you could still eat in peace.

But something told you this wasn’t the last time your paths would cross.

And that thought was far more unnerving than you wanted to admit.

You tried to ignore him.

Tried to focus on your lunch, on the way the wind ruffled your uniform, on the distant sounds of students laughing below. Anything but the fact that Ryomen Sukuna was still there, barely a few feet away, resting like he owned the entire rooftop.

But no matter how much you tried to tune him out from the background as you ate, the weight of his presence lingered. It was like a storm cloud on the horizon, waiting to crack open.

The silence just continued to stretch through the blowing winds. Then, you felt a shift. A quiet, subtle rustling of fabric as the fuschia haired kid turned his head slightly, cracking one eye open in your direction.

“You always eat up here?”

You faltered mid-bite. “Huh?”

His tone wasn’t particularly interested in what you were doing or why you were here, but the fact that he was speaking to you at all was… unsettling. Everything about this moment just felt too tense, it was making your stomach spin. A moment passed before you swallowed and forced yourself to respond. 

“…Yeah.” You finally whispered back at him.

Sukuna made a low sound—half amusement, half acknowledgment. “Tch. Thought so. You don’t look like the type to sit with all the other idiots down there.”

You frowned, unsure whether that was supposed to be an insult or not. But he didn’t elaborate. Instead, he shifted onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow now, watching you with an unreadable expression. It made your skin prickle.

“…What?” you muttered, feeling the need to break the silence.

His smirk curled slow and lazy, like he was enjoying something only he understood. “Nothing.”

Liar. You think to yourself, gripping your chopsticks too hard. This kid…..

His scarlet gaze stayed on you for a second longer, then, without another word, he flopped back down, arms behind his head once more. A breeze passed between you, carrying the faint scent of metal and sweat. It was as though the remnants of whatever fight he had been in earlier bristles past you both.

You should have been relieved that he lost interest, that he wasn’t prying any further. But something about the way he had looked at you left an uneasy weight in your chest. As if, despite everything, despite the distance you had tried to keep.  He had just decided you were interesting.

You tried to keep eating, but your appetite had taken a hit. Something about the way Ryomen Sukuna had looked at you unnerved you. It was that look, that lazy, knowing, look. It was like he had already decided something about you. And that had more than ever made it hard to focus on anything else.

The rooftop had always been your place. 

It was your quiet retreat to begin with. 

But now, with him here, it felt different. 

Everything just felt like it was off-balance, occupied.

You stole a glance at him. He was still lying there, arms behind his head, eyes closed again like he hadn’t just made your skin crawl a moment ago. His breathing was steady, his expression unreadable, but you knew better than to think he wasn’t aware of everything around him.

He was too sharp for that. The last thing you wanted was to let him think he had you rattled, so you forced yourself to eat. One bite. Another. Just ignore him. You were going to finish with your meal soon enough.

You can go back and take a walk after this. You busied yourself with finishing the meal, letting the silence reign over. But the silence didn’t last long, as you would like to hope.

“So?”

You paused mid-chew, blinking. “What?”

Sukuna didn’t move. “How long are you gonna sit there pretending I don’t exist?”

You stiffened. His voice was laced with amusement, but there was something else underneath it. You couldn’t help but think that there was something unreadable in there. It was mysterious, it was a pandemonium you could never know escape from. It was like he remains that sphinx who wants your attention to solve his enigma.

“I’m not pretending about anything.” you muttered, keeping your gaze on your lunch.

“Yeah?” A soft chuckle, low and lazy. “Then why do you look so tense?”

Your chopsticks froze in place. You weren’t tense. Were you? That had made you sit still, even more frozen than before as you start to question yourself. Before you could answer, Ryomen Sukuna finally moved, rolling onto his side to look at you again. The way his sharp eyes dragged over you made your spine go rigid, and you hated that he noticed.

“Tch.” he scoffed. “You really don’t talk much, huh?”

You swallowed down your irritation. “I don’t see a reason to.”

That made him smirk. “Smart.”

You didn’t know why, but the word felt like a backhanded compliment. Then, as if he had already lost interest, he flopped back onto his back, exhaling like he had all the intention of that being his last breath to you. 

This whole interaction was nothing more than an afterthought to him. 

You should have been relieved all about it. 

But somehow, you just weren’t.

Because for some reason, Ryomen Sukuna’s presence lingered in your mind like a storm you couldn’t quite ignore. Even as you left that place, knowing he’d fallen back asleep, you found yourself in a quagmire of him. Your lips pressed into a line as you walked back into the hallways. You had a sinking feeling that this wasn’t the last time you’d find him up here.

And you were right to feel it. 

A few days passed.

And just as you feared, Ryomen Sukuna did in fact keep showing up.

The first time that happened, you thought it was a coincidence. Maybe he was just skipping class, maybe he liked the solitude too, though nothing about Ryomen Sukuna screamed quiet loner.

But by the fifth time, you knew better.

You pushed open the rooftop door one afternoon, lunch in hand, only to find him already there—again. This time, he was sitting up, arms resting on his knees, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, the smoke curling lazily in the breeze.

You hesitated in the doorway. “That’s illegal for a kid to do, you know?”

“Does it matter?” He glanced at you, expression unreadable. “You’re late.”

Your grip tightened on your lunchbox. “I didn’t know we had a schedule.”

A lazy smirk pulled at his lips. “We do now.”

You didn’t respond, just walked past him and sat in your usual spot, a careful distance away. Ryomen Sukuna didn’t say anything after that, just went back to watching the sky, flicking ash from his cigarette with a slow, practiced motion.

It was almost peaceful, you would say. Well, almost. But even in silence, he was there, taking up space, shifting the air around him like gravity itself bent to his will. And you hated that you were starting to get used to it. It was starting to get a little bit more comfortable to you, the concept of being together.

Halfway through your meal, he spoke again. “What’s your deal?”

You blinked. “What?”

He turned his head slightly, looking at you with a lazy sort of curiosity. “You. You always eat alone, you don’t talk much, and you look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

You frowned, ignoring the prickle of irritation at how easily he had read you. “Maybe I just don’t like people.”

Sukuna chuckled, low and amused. “Yeah? Same.”

He flicked the cigarette away, watching the embers burn out as it hit the concrete. Then, before you could think of a response, he leaned back against the metal chain linked fence, stretching his arms out over the metal railing, and exhaled like he had just decided something.

“Guess I’ll keep you company, then.”

You nearly choked. “Excuse me?”

Sukuna grinned, sharp and cocky. “You don’t like people. I don’t like people. We can not like people together.”

You stared at him, searching for some kind of punchline, some hint that he was messing with you. But he just looked at you, completely at ease, like he had already made up his mind and your opinion didn’t matter. Something about that made your stomach twist.

You narrowed your eyes. “I didn’t ask for company.”

He shrugged. “Too bad. You’ve interested me.”

You frowned. Interested in him?

That wasn’t something you wanted. 

Not from Ryomen Sukuna.

Your chopsticks hovered over your lunch as you tried to pretend like his words didn’t bother you, but you could feel his scarlet gaze still on you—watching, studying. Like you were a puzzle he was in no rush to solve, content just to poke at the pieces and see what happened.

“That’s not my problem, Ryomen.” you muttered, stabbing a piece of food a little too aggressively.

Sukuna only chuckled, the sound low and amused. “You’re acting like you have a choice.”

That made your eye twitch. You set your chopsticks down with a quiet click, turning to finally face him. “I do have a choice.”

He smirked, head tilting slightly. “Do you?”

His confidence was infuriating. And you hated how smooth it was. You hated how he just knows he’s right.  He wasn’t asking you. You knew that. He was stating, dictating as if he had already decided the outcome, as if whatever you thought didn’t really matter. And that irritated you more than anything else.

“You can’t just show up here and declare that we’re friends or something.” you snapped.

Sukuna scoffed. “Who said anything about being friends?”

That threw you off. “…Then what the hell do you want?”

He grinned, sharp and wolfish, like he had been waiting for you to ask. “Dunno. You’re interesting. Thought I’d stick around and see what you do.”

Your stomach twisted at that.

Like you were some kind of entertainment.

God, how much you wanted to curse just now.

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m not here to entertain you.”

Sukuna leaned back against the fence, completely unfazed. “Good. That’d be boring.”

You exhaled through your nose, trying to wick away the irritation bubbling under your skin. There was no point in arguing with him. The more you pushed, the more he seemed to enjoy it. So instead, you picked up your chopsticks and ignored him.

A breeze swept through the rooftop. Ryomen Sukuna didn’t speak again, but you could still feel his presence lingering beside you—heavy, unwavering, unmoving. It wasn’t a threat. Not exactly. But it wasn’t nothing, either.

And deep down, you had the unsettling feeling that no matter how much you resisted, no matter how much space you tried to put between yourself and him. Sukuna had already decided. And he wasn’t going anywhere. Just like that, that conversation was over.

You watched as Sukuna leaned back against the fence again, tilting his head up toward the sky, completely unbothered, like he hadn’t just decided to insert himself into your space without permission. Like it was inevitable. And deep down, no matter how much you wanted to deny it as you ate your lunch, you had a feeling he wasn’t wrong.

══════════════════

YOU REALLY SHOULD HAVE NOT LET HIM DECIDE THIS ‘FRIENDSHIP’ YOU BOTH HAVE. You really should have known when to put your foot down. But you just really were not that good at getting it across as he has. This is why you were stuck in this situation. You glared as you sat there and decided that Ryomen Sukuna was an absolute menace.

Your new friend was someone who was a feared name across campus. A natural-born fighter. A troublemaker with a cocky smirk and a sharp tongue that could tear people apart just as effectively as his fists.

And yet, here he was irritating you to death with that smirk on his lips as he quipped you a new joke you absolutely hated. Here he was, sitting on the rooftop like some stray cat, drinking a strawberry milk carton and eating anpan like a child at recess.

You like to think that if he was just not making those annoying jokes and just sat down and let you watch him eat in silence, mayhaps you would be more mildly amused as he took slow sips of the sweet drink.

“You look like you’re thinking too hard, hm?” Sukuna said, voice full of that lazy, smug amusement that made your eyes twitch.

You didn’t respond. Just glared. Ryomen Sukuna, looking unfazed as always, took another obnoxiously slow sip of his strawberry milk, the straw making an irritating slurping noise that set your teeth on edge.

“Let me guess…..” he continued, tapping his chin in mock thought. “You’re wondering how the hell you got stuck with me, aren’t you?”

You set your lunch down with a sharp click and gave him a look. “I wasn’t wondering. I know exactly how. You forced it.”

Sukuna grinned. “Damn right, I did.”

You wanted to throw his anpan off the roof.

It was insufferable, how much he enjoyed this, how much he enjoyed riling you up. Lately, it was like it was his new favorite pastime. And the worst part? You weren’t even sure if he was doing it on purpose or if he was just naturally this unbearable.

“You could, you know.” he mused, watching you with an almost amused curiosity.

You frowned. “Could what?”

He smirked. “Tell me to get lost. Put your foot down. Give me a real reason to leave.”

Your fingers clenched slightly, grip tightening around your chopsticks. He was daring you. Testing you. He wanted to see if you’d actually do it. And the problem was—you should. You really should. But the words wouldn’t come out.

Because despite how much he irritated you, despite how much you wanted to not be in this situation… there was a part of you that knew: Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just a delinquent. He wasn’t just a troublemaker or some violent, cocky bastard who liked to fight. 

You knew that he was a force of nature, one that has overwhelmed you more than anything else. And trying to push him away was like trying to tell a storm to stop blowing. So instead of answering, you just scowled and turned back to your food, hoping he’d drop it.

Sukuna chuckled, shaking his head as he took another sip of his drink. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Menace. Absolute menace.

You were never getting rid of him.

And worst of all? You weren’t even sure if you wanted to anymore.

You could only sigh as the long reach of his fingers lazily crinkled the carton. The contrast between his usual rough demeanor and this absurdly peaceful moment never failed to amuse you. More often than not, after these little breaks, he would stretch his legs out, lean against the railing, and pass out. Like clockwork.

And somehow, without either of you ever talking about it, it became a routine. You would sit beside him, pretending to read or scroll through your phone, only to glance at him as he inevitably dozed off, arms crossed, head tilting slightly to the side.

There were times when he’d wake up with a soft mutter. "Well, well, well. You’re still here, aren’t you?"

And you would always reply the same way. "Well, yeah. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t roll off the roof and die."

At first, he just scoffed at you. 

But over time, it changed.

The thanks he used to mutter under his breath became a little clearer. The hesitation in his voice lessened. And then there were the nights when he wasn’t just tired—he was beat. Bruised knuckles, scuffed knees, a split lip that he’d wipe with the back of his hand as if it was nothing.

You had quietly started bringing bandages for him from time to time. The first time you handed him some, he stared at them like you had just offered him a kidney. It was really a pitiful sight, that look in his eyes, both of you knew that.

And yet all at once, it was interesting. That warmth you never expected to see in his eyes. One that he had never expected to feel, one that you had never expected to know.

“Don’t need ‘em right now.” he muttered.

You just stared back. “Sure you don’t.”

He clicked his tongue, but after a moment, he snatched them from your hand anyway. “Tch. You’re so damn nosy.”

That continued for a while. And somehow, that too evolved. At some point, mealtime got involved. It started with him watching you eat one day, his gaze flicking between you and your food like he was debating whether or not to ask.

“You want some?” you finally said, raising an eyebrow.

He scoffed. “No.”

Not even five minutes later, his gaze still hadn’t left your food.

You sighed. “You’re a terrible liar, goddamn. All you eat is anpan. Of course you want this.”

“Shut up.”

You ended up splitting your lunch with him that day. At times, you realized he had a bigger appetite. So you pack more and more, so you both can share more food to last you the day for energy. 

You thought it would be a one off thing, but then you kept packing more and more every day. And then the next. And then the day after that. And somehow, before you even realized it, lunch breaks together on the school rooftop became another routine, like a picnic made for the two of you. Some days, you’d talk about random things between bites.

"Have you ever thought about how weird the school anthem is? Like, who wrote that?"

"Probably some dead guy, stop overthinking it." He snickers, eating the lunch you made for him. 

On the other mundane days, you’d find yourselves caught up in a very serious competition over stolen playing card games he brings to school. Well, card games he finds somewhere you didn’t even want to think about.

"You pocketed these off a junior?" you asked in disbelief, shuffling the deck.

Sukuna smirked, leaning back against the railing. "Dumbass lost a bet."

"You bullied a much younger kid for this?"

"Tch. He knew the stakes."

You shook your head but still dealt the cards. 

Because at this point, why not?

So, you just go with this flow, yeah.

The feared, notorious Ryomen Sukuna was a force to be reckoned with. But somehow, between all the rooftop naps, strawberry milk cartons, late afternoon bandages, and card games, you had carved out a space in his life. And whether he admitted it or not, he didn’t really mind.

And it’s even more weirdly freaky that you and Sukuna ended up sharing a habit of listening to music whenever you had free time. You had your own preferences, of course, but one day, when you passed him one of your earbuds, you were shocked to realize that he actually liked classical music.

"I figured you’d be into something more... aggressive music." you admitted, watching as he leaned back, arms crossed, listening intently.

He scoffed. "What, you think I only listen to music that makes me wanna fight people?"

"...Yes?"

"Tch. Idiot." He turned his attention back to the music, tapping his fingers idly against his knee. "This one’s alright. But Tchaikovsky’s better."

Your jaw dropped. "Wait, you like Tchaikovsky?"

"Yeah? And what?"

You shook your head in disbelief. "I just... I wouldn’t have guessed."

"What, you think I don't have taste?"

"I know you don’t have taste."

He flicked your forehead. That was the day you realized Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just a brutish boy. If anything, he actually had opinions on things outside of fighting and being a bad boy. And, as it turned out, music wasn’t the only thing.

One afternoon, while you were sitting on the rooftop as usual, Ryomen Sukuna casually pulled out a book and flipped it open, acting like this was completely normal. Your whole mouth was agape to the floor, you were sure of that.  

You blinked. "You read?"

He shot you a deadpan look. "No, I just stare at pages for fun."

You rolled your eyes, watching as he turned the page with the ease of someone who had definitely done this more than once. "...What’re you reading?"

"Something you wouldn’t get."

You raised an eyebrow. "Try me."

Instead of answering, he tossed the book at you. 

You barely caught it before flipping to the cover.

"...I’ve never heard of this one."

"Figures." he smirked, leaning back against the railing. "You read the boring stuff."

You scoffed. "Excuse me, but I read classics."

"Exactly. Boring."

You gasped, clutching your chest in mock offense. "Oh how dare you?"

He snickers. “I’ll lend you my books, don’t worry. Now sit down and break my ear from your screaming.”

“Oh shut up!”

From then on, lending each other books became a thing. Sometimes, it was casual. Other times, it turned into heated debates over themes, characters, and why the hell Ryomen Sukuna thought the antagonist was right.

But the best part?

Every time he lent you a book, you always found little notes scribbled in the margins—much or less half of them insightful, half of them just him being an ass.

("This guy’s an idiot. Don’t be like him.")

("Bet you didn’t see that twist coming, nerd.")

("I already know you’re gonna argue with me about this part, so don’t even start.")

And you did argue.

But somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

What started as a random book exchange had slowly become something bigger. It wasn’t just about lending each other books or debating over plot twists anymore. It was the way you’d catch Ryomen Sukuna leaning back in his chair, flipping through a book you’d recommended, his brow furrowed in thought.

Or the way he’d glance at you while you read one of his books, waiting for your reaction whenever you hit a major plot point. It was subtle, but it was there. And the teasing, of course, never stopped. You caught him very obviously staring at you while you were finishing one of his books.

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Something on my face?”

He smirked. “Nah, just wondering if you finally get why I was right.”

You huffed, snapping the book shut. “You’re not right.”

“I am.”

“You aren’t!”

“Okay, okay.” he drawled, stretching his arms over his head. “Let’s hear it then, Professor. Enlighten me.”

You scooted closer, pointing aggressively at a passage in the book. “Alright, listen, in this part—”

And that was how you both spent an entire afternoon, passionately arguing over fictional characters like it was a life-or-death situation.

Then came the day you discovered something else. Something about yourself.

And all it took was another day, another afternoon spent on the rooftop.

The sun was warm but not unbearable, the breeze just strong enough to rustle your hair as you leaned against the railing. Beside you, Sukuna sat cross-legged, nursing his beloved cold and fresh strawberry milk carton like it was some kind of divine nectar.

He tilted his head back, taking a long sip before letting out a very satisfied sigh. “Damn, this never gets old.”

You side-eyed him. “You sound like an old man reminiscing about his youth.”

“Tch.” He shot you a lazy smirk. “Better an old man than a nerd who stays up all night studying.”

You gasped, dramatically clutching your chest. “How dare you insult my commitment to academia?”

Sukuna chuckled, reaching into his pocket before casually pulling out a deck of cards. “Alright, nerd. Put your commitment to good use and try to beat me today.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why do I get the feeling you cheat at this?”

He raised a brow, feigning innocence. “Would I ever?”

“Yes.”

Before he could retort, the rooftop door slammed open, and a very familiar, very exasperated voice rang out. “There you are!”

Both of you turned to see one of your classmates panting at the doorway, hands on their knees.

They pointed an accusatory finger at you. “You skipped the study group!”

Sukuna turned to you, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh? Nerd’s skipping study group? Scandalous.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “It’s one session.”

“You never skip.” Your classmate shot a pointed glance at Sukuna, then back at you, suspicion creeping into their features. “Wait. Are you guys dating?”

You froze. “H–huh? What the—”

Ryomen Sukuna—because he was Ryomen Sukuna—immediately grinned like the menace he was.

“Damn, caught in the act, babe.” he drawled, draping an arm over your shoulder. “Guess the secret’s out.”

You smacked his arm away, face heating up. “Oh my god, shut up!”

Your classmate screeched. “You didn’t deny it—”

“BECAUSE HE’S AN IDIOT!” you practically shouted, shoving Sukuna off as he cackled at your suffering.

“Uh-huh.” they said, clearly not convinced. “I’m telling everyone—”

Sukuna smirked. “Go ahead. Maybe then everyone will finally stop flirting with her and I won’t have to glare at every idiot who tries.”

Your classmate’s jaw dropped. “Oh we’re at that level now, huh?”

You, on the other hand, were about two seconds away from exploding. “SUKUNA—”

“Tch, what? I’m just saying what we both know.”

“WE BOTH KNOW NOTHING.”

But even as you yelled at him, he just leaned back, smug as ever, sipping the last of his strawberry milk like he hadn’t just casually dropped a bomb on you and everyone with his stupid conversations.

And somehow, despite the absolute chaos he always brought into your life, you wouldn’t have it any other way. You would choose to be by his side if you were given the choice. Both you knew it too.

══════════════════

HE NEVER REALLY THOUGHT IT WOULD GO THIS FAR. But he doesn’t think he can enjoy going to school without seeing you on the rooftop with him. This is what entices him to even want to go to school. Slowly but surely, Ryomen Sukuna began to enjoy himself in your presence like this. 

At first, it was subtle. So subtle that even he barely noticed it. The way his shoulders loosened when he was around you. The way his scowl softened when you teased him. The way he didn’t mind sharing his space, his food, his time with you.

Slowly but surely, he found himself eager for your attention more and more. It started with little things. Like how he’d glance at you first when he finally made a really good joke, just to see if you were laughing.

Or how, even in a crowded room, his eyes instinctively sought you out. How he’d nudge you with his knee when he was bored, just to get you to acknowledge him.

It was annoying. This thing he felt whenever you weren’t near. But you were the only true constant he had, you were the only one that he could find as permanence in the life lived with change. The only one who hadn’t turned away. The only one who didn’t look at him like he was some monster.

And one day, that thought made him stop in his tracks.

You weren’t looking at him badly at all.

You never had, even when you first met him.

Which made no damn sense.

One late afternoon, as you sat together on the rooftop, the sky a deep shade of blue hour in its peak indigo, Ryomen Sukuna found himself blurting out the question that had been gnawing at him for weeks.

“…Why do you stay by my side?”

You looked up from your book, blinking at him. “Huh?”

“I don’t get it.” He leaned back, arms crossed, frowning. “Why the hell do you hang around me? Everyone else either avoids me or wants something from me. But you just—”

"What?" You asked him.

He scowled, struggling to find the right words. “You just stay.”

You tilted your head, smiling slightly. “Because you’re interesting.”

He stared at you like you had grown a second head. “That’s your reason?”

“Yup.”

Sukuna scoffed. “You saw me beat a guy half to death on the first day.”

You laughed, shrugging. “But didn’t you do that because he was looking under a girl’s skirt?”

He paused at your words.

Suddenly, it was just a click.

Something in his chest clicked in place.

He hadn’t even thought about it back then. It wasn’t like he had done it to be some noble hero, he just didn’t like creeps. It was as simple as that. But the fact that you saw it that way? That you had been watching him just as closely as he had been watching you?

It made his ears burn hot red.

“Tch.” He looked away, clicking his tongue. “Still dumb of you to stick around for that.”

You grinned, nudging his arm. “Nah. I think I made a pretty good choice. I mean there were other things that came with that.”

And damn it, he hated how much he liked hearing that.

From that moment on, something shifted between you and Sukuna. Well, at least for him. He wouldn’t say it out loud—not yet, at least—but he had stopped questioning why you stayed. Maybe it was because you weren’t afraid of him. 

Maybe it was because you always had a way of looking at him that made him feel like he wasn’t just some guy people feared. Maybe it was because, for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like he had to prove himself to someone. You were just there.

And somehow, that was enough for him.

But of course, he wasn’t about to get all sappy about it.

He doesn’t dare be that loud about it.

“Alright, genius.” He leaned back, arms crossed, watching you scribble some scientific formula on your massive notepad. “If I’m so interesting, what’s the most interesting thing about me?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “You pretend to be meaner than you are.”

Sukuna scoffed. “Tch. Pretend?”

“Mhm.” You smirked. “You act like you don’t care, but you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“You literally gave that stray cat your milk carton last week, Sukuna.”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re still on about that?”

“Because it was cute, wasn’t it?” you teased, grinning. “You wanted to take it home with you and nurse it back to health!”

“I will throw you off this rooftop.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Try me.”

And maybe it was the way you were always ready to challenge him, the way you never backed down. Maybe it was the way you could see through him like no one else ever had. Either way, Ryomen Sukuna was doomed.

He was already losing the battle.

Because as much as he’d never admit it, he liked that you stayed.

He liked that you were there with him.

It wasn’t often that Ryomen Sukuna hesitated, that in itself was a fact to everyone you dare ask. But in the moment after that as he watched you continue to scribble on your notepad, he found himself struggling even more. He couldn’t help it.

He wasn’t the type to second-guess himself, to stall, or to act shy about something he wanted. When he set his sights on something, he took it, it was as simple as that. But now, as he sat beside you as he watched you, hands shoved in his pockets, lips pressed together in an almost pout, he looked… hesitant. Which was weird.

You tilted your head. “What’s up with you, Sukuna? You were just fine earlier. I mean you were alright with the banter. Now you’re stunned to silence again.”

Sukuna clicked his tongue, eyes flickering away. “It’s nothing.”

“Liar.” You snickered, not looking up at him. “You don’t lose your words with it being nothing.”

His furrowed brows twitched, and you could see the gears turning in his head. He wanted to say something. You just had to be patient. “…I’m gonna try out for the volleyball team.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, really?”

He gave a slow nod, avoiding your gaze. “Yeah. I just….thought I need a new leaf.”

“Well, that’s good on you, Sukuna! Less fights, more rights—but on court!”

“Hey, I’m left handed!”

You giggled. “Just kidding.”

And now that you really looked at him, you noticed the way his fingers fidgeted slightly at his sides, how his usual sharp expression was replaced by something almost… uncertain. You could see the red echo all over his face and neck and even his ears.

That was when it hit you.

He wanted to ask you to come.

He wanted you there.

You opened your mouth, but before he could get a single word out, you grinned and butted in. “I’ll be there.”

Sukuna blinked. “Huh?”

“You were gonna ask me to come, right?” You nudged him playfully. “So, yeah. I’ll be there. Front row seat.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, lips parting slightly like he was searching for some kind of response. Then, he scowled, clicking his tongue. “Annoying.”

You laughed. “You love it.”

“Debatable.” But despite his grumbling, you swore you saw the corners of his lips twitch into the smallest smile.

And just like that, Ryomen Sukuna, someone who never asked for anyone’s approval had finally found something he wanted even more than volleyball. He wanted you to see him win. He wanted to see you there when he got his uniform and his place on the team.

“You’re really cute right now, do you know that?”

“Huh? Who are you callin’ cute?”

“Sukuna, give me back my notepad, you tall jerk!”

“Reach for it, shorty!”

══════════════════

epilogue

It started as a normal post-practice dinner, like it always was. It was normal, meaning loud and chaotic thanks to Gojo and Geto and how they roped Yuuji into their antics. The seven of you were packed into your usual corner booth, plates stacked high, drinks half-empty, and conversation buzzing with easy banter.

Then Itadori Yuuji—bless his pure, curious heart—asked the question that sealed Sukuna’s fate. “So… how did you guys even meet?”

You paused, chopsticks mid-air. “Oh, uh…. What do you wanna know?”

The bright-eyed junior smiled at you. “As much as you wanna say, senpai!”

Captain Ryomen Sukuna, who had just taken a bite of pork cutlet, froze. He slowly chewed, scarlet eyes darting toward you like he was calculating whether he should trust you with the answer. Big mistake.

Gojo immediately leaned in. “Oh-ho-ho, now this I wanna hear.”

Geto grinned, leaning back at the white haired vice-captain. “Yeah, you guys never really told us the full story.”

Megumi groaned. “And you really don’t need to.”

Nanami merely sighed, but there was a tiny flicker of interest in his otherwise indifferent expression. You turned to your boyfriend, Ryomen Sukuna with the smuggest look ever. He turned to you, panicked and horrified.

You smirked. “Wanna tell them, my love?”

His eyes twitched. “I hate when you say it like that, so damn mischievous.”

Gojo gasped, delighted. “Wait. You call senpai babe, but she can’t call you babe? Oh my god. This is so good.”

Sukuna shot him a deadly glare. “Do you want me to stab you with my chopsticks? And again, we talked about this. I like being called my love by my girl or nothing.”

"Aw, I'm your girl?"

"I'm going to sleep on the couch later with your stuffed bunny."

"My love, that's just cruel!" You pouted.

His eyes falters as he lowers his head and blushes. "Goddamn it."

Megumi snickers, leaning back. "Are we just gonna skip over the captain liking bunny plushies?"

Sukuna looks up. "I'm going to throttle you."

Gojo shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone tried.”

Geto snorted, turning to you. “Anyway, go on and spill, senpai!”

You grinned at him, leaning into the table. “We met in middle school. Sukuna was a menace.”

Sukuna scoffed. “Was?”

“Fine, is.”

Megumi muttered, “Glad we’re acknowledging it, senpai.”

Ignoring them, you continued, “The first time I saw him, he was absolutely wrecking some guy in a fight.”

Yuuji choked on his drink. “HUH???”

Megumi sighed. “Of course senpai was a delinquent.”

“But, but—” You raised a finger. “The guy was really horrible. Sukuna saw that he was looking under another junior’s girl’s skirt and it was making the girl feel horrible, so he jumped in and he started a fight.”

Gojo cackled. “Oh my god, senpai! You saw him commit to beating a guy in a fight and thought, ‘wow, what a prince.’”

Sukuna groaned, dropping his forehead onto the table. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

You patted his back, grinning. “He didn’t get into fights without reason, don’t worry! Anyway, I stuck around. And before he knew it, he couldn’t get rid of me.”

Sukuna grumbled, “Yeah, you were annoying.”

“Were?”

He sighed, already regretting his entire existence. “Fine. Are.”

Yuuji grinned. “So basically… you made the first move?”

Sukuna sat up, looking deeply offended. “No.”

Nanami, who had been quietly sipping his tea, suddenly added, “You were the one who asked senpai to come to your volleyball tryouts.”

Sukuna turned to him, betrayed. “I thought you didn’t get involved in stupid conversations, Nanami.”

“I don’t.” Nanami set his cup down calmly. “But this is funny.”

Gojo howled. “Oh, this is fantastic. Loverboy Ryomem Sukuna actually invited senpai first! Was, he blushing, senpai?”

You grinned. “Hm, he was!”

Geto smirked. “You know what that means, right? That means you made the first move, cap!”

“I DID NOT.”

“You definitely did, captain.” Megumi muttered.

You grinned, resting your chin on your palm. “Face it, my love. Like it or not, you love me with everything you’ve got.”

Sukuna grumbled, looking away, ears red. “Tch. Tolerate is a better word.”

But the way he let you lean against him, the way his fingers brushed against yours under the table?

Yeah, you grinned.

You knew the truth.

And that’s why Sukuna was suffering.

Physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

All because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

And he loved you for it, more than anything.

Gojo and Geto were thriving off his pain, Megumi looked like he wanted to die just by being associated with this conversation, and Nanami, the one person who usually had self-control, had actually joined in on roasting him.

Worst of all? You were sitting there, all smug and grinning, as if you weren’t the reason his dignity was being publicly executed.

"Okay, okay." Yuuji laughed, leaning forward eagerly. "So when did you two actually start dating? Who said I love you first?"

Sukuna groaned, rubbing his temples. "Why are we still talking about this?"

"Because it's hilarious, captain!" Gojo said, sipping his drink with a shit-eating grin.

"You guys are acting like this is some historical event!" Sukuna muttered.

"You being in a relationship is basically a historical event, you know that, right?" Megumi deadpanned.

Nanami somewhat agreed. “It’s hard to know how to keep you settled, captain.”

“That’s going to earn you both more burpees!”

You giggled, reaching over to flick Sukuna’s ear. “Come on, tell them how you said it first.”

Sukuna scowled at you. “I didn’t say it first.”

"You so did, huh?" Geto smirked, drumming his fingers on the table.

Sukuna shot him a murderous glare. "No, I didn't."

"You absolutely did." you chirped, grinning.

Gojo perked up like he lived for this drama. "Wait, wait, wait—so the captain said I love you first?! Oh, this is damn gold."

Nanami took a sip of his drink, looking mildly interested. "How did this happen?"

Sukuna crossed his arms, looking like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. "It was not a confession. It was—"

"A moment of weakness?" Megumi guessed dryly.

"A lapse in judgment?" Geto suggested.

"A divine miracle?" Gojo threw in, wiggling his eyebrows.

Sukuna clicked his tongue, looking at you like you were his final lifeline. He then looked at the other boys. “Multiple running laps on Monday.”

You, of course, were having too much fun. "Oh, it was so cute."

Sukuna groaned. "I swear to god—"

"Okay, okay!" You laughed, waving your hand. "I'll tell the story."

Sukuna immediately collapsed onto the table in defeat. “Jesus Christ—”

"So, one night after one of his games, Sukuna was exhausted—”

"As one is after carrying an entire team, mind you." Sukuna muttered.

You ignored him. "And he was so tired, he wasn’t really thinking before he spoke."

Gojo gasped dramatically. "The captain? Not thinking before he speaks? Shocking!"

You continued, undeterred. "So we were just sitting there, and I handed him a drink, and he just sighs and goes, ‘Man, I love you.’"

An echo of sudden silence.

Then the entire table erupted into chaos.

"NO. WAY." Yuuji nearly choked on his drink.

"AND IT WAS CASUAL? JUST LIKE THAT?" Gojo cackled.

"Disgusting." Megumi muttered, sipping his drink like he wasn’t deeply entertained.

Geto wiped a fake tear from his eye. "Damn. Our boy is whipped."

Sukuna, face fully buried in his hands, groaned. "I was tired!"

Nanami, who was enjoying himself far too much, nodded. "Ah. So it was an accidental confession."

You giggled, patting Sukuna’s back. "And then when I stared at him, all shocked, he tried to walk it back and was like, ‘Wait, no, I didn’t mean—’"

Sukuna slammed his forehead on the table. "I HATE YOU."

"Love you too, my love." you cooed sweetly, kissing his cheek.

Gojo nearly fell out of his chair laughing. "OH MY GOD, CAPTAIN! YOU’RE A LOSER."

Yuuji wiped tears from his eyes. "Man, I love this."

Megumi sighed. "This has been the worst meal of my life."

"Best meal of my life." Geto grinned.

Nanami sighed. "This shit makes me want a girlfriend."

Sukuna looked up, glaring at everyone. "I regret ever meeting you all."

"You love us." Gojo said, waving him off.

"No. I love her. Even if she's a fucking menace." Sukuna jabbed a finger at you. "I tolerate the rest of you."

You beamed, leaning into his side. "See? That was an intentional confession."

Sukuna groaned as the table roared with laughter again. “Why are we going through life like this?”

You smiled at him, leaning in and kissing his cheek. "I love you!"

Okay, maybe tonight was worth it.

[ctrlsht]

Beneath His Love | Jungkook Two-Shot AU (Part 2)

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: dark romance, psychological thriller, soft yandere

summary: Jeon Jungkook was once just a foreign high school friend until he disappeared without a word after graduation. Years later, he came back, not just to reconnect, but to claim a place in your life as your lover. To everyone else, your relationship is something out of a fairytale, the kind others envy. And for a while, you believed it too until the mask he wore began to slip, revealing a side of him you never saw coming.

warnings: emotional and psychological manipulation, control and possessiveness, obsession, anxiety and mild distress, isolation and coercion, themes of entrapment, smut wc: 20k

parts: (1) | (2)

Your friends haven't noticed yet because they're facing the other way.

“Y/N,” he calls, his voice cutting through the night.

Your friends turn.

“You weren’t answering your phone again.” His tone is eerily neutral. “We have to go home. Now.”

You step forward instinctively, but Mina blocks you.

“No,” she says firmly. “She’s not going with you.”

Jungkook’s gaze flicks to her, his brow arching, lips pressing into a tight line. He stares at her for a long moment before turning back to you.

“Y/N?”

Henry, oblivious to the growing tension, chimes in. “Man, Y/N might stay the night. Chloe booked a room for us since she’s leaving Monday.”

But you wish he hadn’t said that.

Jungkook shifts his gaze to Henry, his jaw tightening. He doesn’t say anything right away, just studies him.

“Henry, right?” Jungkook’s voice is smooth as he twitch is lips. “I haven’t formally met you. I only ever see you when I’m picking Y/N up.” He tilts his head slightly, eyes locked onto him. “How have you been? Last time I heard a news from you is when you were smuggling cocaine into campus during high school.”

Your stomach drops.

Henry’s eyes widen. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh,” Jungkook smirks. “They didn’t know? How is that possible, considering they’re your friends?”

“Jungkook, let’s go.” You reach for him, desperate to diffuse whatever the hell this is.

But Mina steps in again, eyes burning.

“Y/N, you’re staying,” she says. “We already talked about this.”

You ignore Mina and head straight for Jungkook, needing to escape the tension pressing down on you. The longer you stay, the harder it gets to breathe.

Your friends react. Voices overlapping behind you but you don’t look back. Your focus is locked on Jungkook, searching his face, trying to figure out what he’s thinking.

Without hesitation, you reach for his hand, ready to pull him away with you. But before you can, his grip tightens, stopping you in your tracks.

You glance up, and that’s when you see it. He’s smiling.

“It’s okay, love,” he says smoothly, pulling you closer, his eyes flickering toward your friends. “You can stay the night.”

Your stomach twists. “No, we can go now—”

“You can stay,” he repeats, his voice calm, too calm. “It’s Chloe’s last night. I get it now. Go ahead, have fun. I’ll wait for you at home tomorrow.”

“But—”

You hesitate, trying to explain, to tell him there’s no need, that you’ll just leave with him. But before you can get the words out, he cuts you off.

“You will stay.” He said firmly. The smile doesn’t waver, but you know better. You know he doesn’t like this.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

He leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. Before you can say anything else, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, your pulse hammering in your ears.

Your friends didn’t like what happened. They didn’t like how the situation turned out. But if they thought they were the only ones pissed about it, they were dead wrong. Because out of everyone who hated what just happened, no one despised it more than you.

Shame burned through you. The way you broke down in front of them, the way Jungkook showed up and, without a second thought, you fell right into line. How easily you let him take control. And worst of all, you ruined Chloe’s night.

Pathetic.

You fucking hated every second of it, and the last thing you wanted was to face them now. If the earth could open up and swallow you whole, you’d gladly let it.

But they didn’t let you go.

They didn’t let you walk away, didn’t let you brush this off and deal with it alone. Were they disappointed? Yeah. But they didn’t leave. They stayed.

And as much as you wanted to leave because of Jungkook, because you knew he wouldn’t like this, you realized something else. Maybe it was a good thing he “let” you stay. Because you needed this. More than you even knew.

You’d been so wrapped up in him, so caught in the push and pull of his world, that you forgot what it felt like to just be with your friends. The people who had always been there, long before he ever stepped into the picture.

It hit you then, how much of yourself you’d been losing. How, somewhere along the way, your world had started revolving around him.

But tonight, even just for a little while, you were free.

The party was still on-going, but your friends were done. Without much debate, they decided to head back to the hotel Chloe had booked. You felt bad and offered to stay, but they weren’t having it. They just wanted to get out of there and honestly, so did you.

You already knew what was coming once you got to the hotel. This wasn’t just about tonight. They wanted to know everything. About Jungkook, about the way your life had changed since you started dating him.

And the moment you started talking, it all clicked.

You knew he was controlling. Deep down, you always knew. But you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t that bad. That it was just love. Just care. But standing here, hearing your own words spill out, you realized how much of yourself you’d let slip through his fingers.

Every choice, big or small, it had all been him. And you? You just went along with it.

Chloe, sitting cross-legged on the bed, hugs a pillow to her chest. Her voice is gentle, but there’s frustration laced in it.

“We get that you love him,” she says, watching you carefully. “But you know you’re being manipulated. So why aren’t you doing anything about it?”

“Because she’s blinded by love, Chloe. That explains everything,” Mina says, taking a swig of the beer they snuck out from the club.

“It’s not just that.” Henry leans forward, grabbing a bottle from the table. “She’s not just ignoring the red flags, she’s doing whatever he wants because she doesn’t want to start a fight. It’s easier to just go along with it than deal with the fallout. It’s not always because she’s blinded by love, but she’s being manipulated.”

Mina shoots him a look. “Wow, you talk like you weren’t smuggling cocaine in high school.”

Henry groans, flipping her off. “For the last time, I was broke, okay? I needed cash, and it was a quick way to make money.”

Mina snorts. “Yeah, yeah. I just can’t believe you were out there selling coke to Jungkook of all people.”

You lean back against the bed, half-listening to them bicker, half-lost in thought. It’s been a while since you’ve hung out like this, probably since before Jungkook.

It’s crazy how much your life has changed since him. The good, the bad… and everything in between.

Chloe, who’s been quiet, finally speaks up. “Babe,” she says gently, turning to you. “I get that you love him. But if being with him is messing with your head, that’s not love. That’s control. And if you keep letting it slide, it’s only gonna get worse.”

She holds your gaze, voice softer now. “Love is supposed to make you happy. Not suffocate you.”

Now that you’re actually aware of what’s going on between you and Jungkook, you have no clue how to deal with it. Do you bring it up? Do you let it slide? Do you even want to address it at all?

Your friends make it sound so simple. Just talk to him, stand your ground, don’t let him control you. Or worse, break up with him. But the moment you even consider doing any of that, your mind shuts down. The thought alone makes you want to retreat. What if it makes things worse? What if he gets distant? What if you regret it?

You’re not the type to challenge Jungkook, not when you know how he reacts. He never outright shuts you down, but his silence, his coldness. It’s enough to make you second-guess yourself. So, most of the time, you just let things slide. It’s easier that way.

Still, a part of you was waiting for him to call or text last night. He didn’t. And now, you’re torn between reaching out first or pretending like it doesn’t bother you. Either way, the weight in your chest hasn’t lifted.

And now, it’s morning. Time to face him. And if you’re being honest, you’re nowhere near ready.

But there’s no avoiding it. No matter how much time you’ve had to think about what to say or how to say it, you’ll never be fully prepared.

Your friends dropped you off at your own apartment, unaware that you had no intention of staying. You didn’t want them to know you were going back to Jungkook. Maybe because you didn’t want to hear their protests. Or maybe because, deep down, you weren’t ready to admit to them or yourself that you still couldn’t walk away.

Stepping inside, you’re greeted by the same apartment, the same furniture, the same neatly arranged belongings. But it doesn’t feel like home anymore. It hasn’t been for a while.

It’s past nine in the morning. You don’t know what time Jungkook expects you back, but you do know he expected you to leave with him last night. That’s enough to make your stomach twist.

You sink into the couch, staring at nothing, lost in the spiral of your own thoughts. Flashes of last night replay in your mind. The way your friends looked at you, their words, their concern. And then, memories of Jungkook resurface the good ones, the ones that make it so damn hard to leave.

The idea of walking away terrifies you.

You love him. More than you probably should. More than what might be good for you. And even if this isn’t sustainable, even if a part of you knows something has to change… you’re not ready.

Not yet.

You lost track of time until his message popped up:

‘I cooked lunch.’

That’s it. No questions, no extra words. Just a statement.

As you walk through the lobby of his apartment building, your pulse quickens, your hands trembling slightly at your sides. You tell yourself to calm down, but the closer you get, the harder it is to breathe. You wish you could put this off a little longer, but you can’t.

Your fingers shake as you punch in his door code. You hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

And then, without thinking, you step inside.

The apartment is filled with natural light, curtains drawn open to welcome the crisp autumn air. It’s colder now, the season shifting.

He’s at his desk in the living room, focused on his laptop. The moment he notices you, his face lights up. He gets up instantly, closing the distance between you in a few strides, wrapping you in a warm hug, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

“You’re finally home. You should eat. I made beer-battered fish.”

His voice is light, casual, like nothing happened last night.

You hesitate for a second before answering. "Okay."

It comes out flat, almost lifeless.

You walk toward the dining table, already set with plates and food, and sit down. You expect him to follow, to sit across from you like usual.

But he doesn’t.

And somehow, that makes you even more nervous.

You’re not hungry. Even if you were, you wouldn’t have the appetite for this. But you force yourself to finish the food he made anyway, each bite sitting heavy in your stomach. It’s not the taste, it’s the way your nerves are twisting into knots, making you feel like you might be sick.

He doesn’t come in while you eat. The silence in the apartment is suffocating, pressing in on you like a weight you can’t shake off.

When you’re done, you get up and head toward the bedroom to change, passing through the living room where he still sits. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say a word, like you’re not even there.

It’s driving you insane.

A while ago, he seemed fine. Now, he feels like a ticking bomb.

You’d rather he just say something, anything than sit there like this. You know his cold treatment too well; it’s his way of controlling the situation, making you come to him first. But this time, something about it feels different.

You don’t know how. You just know it does.

You’ve already showered, organized your closet, done everything you could think of to keep yourself busy. And yet, the apartment feels empty. Or rather, he feels absent.

Maybe he’s just busy.

But you know better.

Steeling yourself, you step out of the bedroom and head toward the dining area. You don’t even make it halfway before you hear it, his scoff, sharp and pointed.

“So you’re really gonna act like nothing happened, huh?”

There it is.

You turn to see him standing up from his chair, arms crossed, leaning casually against the kitchen’s pass-through window. His expression is unreadable, but his tone drips with sarcasm.

“You’re not even gonna explain last night?” His lips twitch as he watches you, waiting.

You hesitate, then exhale. “Nothing happened. They just wanted me to stay. That’s it.”

You keep it short, simple. The less you say, the better. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

But even now, you can’t believe how hard you’re trying to avoid this.

Jungkook shifts, hands slipping into his pockets as he steps toward you. His face is neutral, unreadable, but his presence alone makes your pulse spike.

When he’s finally in front of you, he leans in just enough, his gaze locked onto yours, dark and unwavering.

Then, in a low whisper, he says—

“Why do you make me feel so stupid?”

“No, I’m not!” you snap, voice shaking with frustration. “That’s really what happened! They found out I wasn’t staying the night because you didn’t let me.” You take a step back, putting distance between you.

His brow arches, his expression unreadable. “So you’re blaming me now?”

“It’s not like that,” you grit out. “I told you I’d come home with you, right? But instead, you made me stay.” Your patience is wearing thin, your hands balling into fists at your sides.

Jungkook scoffs, his jaw tightening. “Because that’s what you wanted to happen.” His voice drop dangerously low. “You didn’t even pick up your fucking phone. You didn’t give a damn that I was losing my mind, calling you hundreds of times, wondering if something happened to you.”

Your breath catches. He’s right. You didn’t answer. You couldn’t because your phone was buried somewhere in your bag. But that doesn’t mean you wanted to ignore him.

Jungkook shakes his head, his gaze piercing through you. “You love doing this, don’t you? Running off, not answering your fucking phone, making me go insane thinking something happened to you.” His voice is like fire, burning through the tension between you.

A sharp pang of guilt twists in your chest. You can’t deny he’s right, but it’s not like you did it on purpose. It was an honest mistake.

“I’m sorry, okay?” you say, exhaling shakily. “I didn’t mean to leave my phone behind. They just—” you pause, searching for the right words, “they cornered me, forced me to stay because they were upset that I kept ditching them.” Your voice softens, hoping to ease the tension. “Of course, I wanted to stay. It’s Chloe’s last night before she leaves.”

But Jungkook doesn’t ease up. If anything, he looks even more pissed. His eyes darken, his lips curling into something bitter.

“Oh, right,” he drawls. “Why don’t you just do what you did before? Go out with them without telling me.”

The accusation hits you like a slap. You blink, momentarily stunned.

He catches it immediately, his smirk sharpening. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, Y/N,” he says, voice low and edged with something dangerous. “We both know you do.”

He’s right but it was one time. Just once. And you never did it again.

“And did I ever confront you after you did that?” His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it. “I didn’t. And now you wanna question why I don’t like you hanging out with them so much?” He lets out a cold laugh, shaking his head. “Because I know you’d pick them over me.”

“What are you saying? That’s not true!” You shake your head, frustration bubbling up as you take a step closer, reaching for him.

But before you can even touch his arm, he moves away. Fast and deliberate.

"You all act like I’m the fucking villain just because I care about you," he spits, his voice shaking with frustration. "But you never question them, do you? You never doubt your precious friends. Henry did illegal shit before, and you didn’t even fucking flinch. I just don’t get it… Why is it so easy for you to doubt me, but you’d defend them in a heartbeat?"

A lump forms in your throat as you watch the single tear slide down his face. Your body instinctively moves, but something inside you hesitates.

And with that, you see yourself all over him.  

"Love, stop—please.” Your hands tremble as they reach for him, but he turns away. “I… I don’t want you to feel that way. I never meant to make you think that.” Your voice breaks, a lump forming in your throat. “You have to believe me.”

You try to reach him hoping he won’t flinch. Your hands find his face, fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw as you gently wipe away the tears, your voice softening. “I don’t think you’re wrong. I don’t blame you. Please don’t believe that.”

He stays silent, letting you wipe his tears, his breathing uneven, his jaw tense. His eyes stay downcast, refusing to meet yours. But when he finally looks up, something in them is cold and distant.

His hands come up, gently wrapping around yours as they rest on his cheeks, but instead of leaning into your touch, he slowly peels them away. His warmth disappears as he steps back, putting space between you.

"I think… it’s better if we take a break," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it cuts through the thick air between you.

He holds your gaze for a moment, just long enough for your stomach to sink, for your chest to tighten before he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving you standing there, frozen, the ghost of his touch still lingering on your skin.

You stand there, frozen, the weight of the last five minutes pressing down on you like a tidal wave. It happened too fast, so fast that even now, as the seconds drag on, your mind refuses to catch up.

Where did you go wrong?

All you ever wanted was to be happy, but it feels like happiness always comes at a price. Like the universe waits for you to smile just so it can rip something away. What did you do to deserve this?

Is this love? A love that confines you, that forces you to choose?

Love is supposed to set you free, isn’t it? But instead, you’re trapped, forced to pick between him and your friends, even when you should be able to have both.

He left. No call, no message, no sign of where he is or if he even cares that you’re falling apart.

That day, you cried harder than you ever had before. You wanted it to stop the exhaustion, the ache in your chest, the way your tears wouldn’t stop spilling no matter how much you told yourself to breathe.

Are you really the one at fault? Or are you just trying to convince yourself you are?

Because when you think back, when you trace every argument, every moment that led you here, the path always leads back to you.

Maybe if you had just done what you were supposed to as his girlfriend, this wouldn’t have happened.

Maybe he was only trying to protect you, and you mistook it for control.

Maybe... maybe this is all your fault.

You waited for him that night, but the door never opened.

Alone in his cold, empty apartment, you curled up in bed, the silence pressing down on you like a weight you couldn’t shake. The room felt lifeless without him, just shadows and stale air, a place that wasn’t home without his presence.

When you couldn’t take it anymore, you reached for your phone, fingers trembling as you dialed his number. The ringing felt endless, each unanswered call chipping away at the hope you were holding onto. Message after message went unread, each one met with nothing but silence.

With every call he ignored, your chest grew heavier. With every text he didn’t even bother to open, your tears only fell harder.

Is this what he felt when you didn’t pick up those nights? When your phone sat forgotten in your bag while you laughed with your family and friends, unaware that he was here, alone, drowning in the same silence that’s now swallowing you whole?

The thought broke you.

You sobbed into the pillow, exhaustion creeping in, but no matter how drained you felt, the tears wouldn’t stop.

‘Love, I’m really sorry. I promise to understand you better. Please come back.’

That was the last message you sent before sleep finally took over as your phone slipping from your grasp.

A soft touch brushes your cheek, warm and featherlight. It pulls you from your sleep, but the pounding in your head makes you wish you could slip right back under. Your eyelids feel like they weigh a ton, but when you force them open, the first thing you see is a blurred figure sitting beside you.

Jungkook.

Even though you feel awful, the second you recognize him, you push yourself up, ignoring the ache in your body.

“Kook.” Your voice cracks as tears spill down your cheeks. Without thinking, you throw yourself into his arms, gripping him tightly. “Where have you been? I’m so sorry.” The words tumble out between sobs, raw and desperate.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he gently pulls away, his expression unreadable as he wipes the tears from your face. His touch is slow, deliberate, his eyes locked onto yours.

You reach up, pressing his hands against your cheeks, needing to feel him, to make sure he’s really here. You have a lot to say, but nothing comes out. His presence alone is overwhelming, so instead, you lean into him again, wrapping your arms around him, seeking comfort in the familiar warmth of his body.

“Did I worry you that much?” His voice is soft, almost teasing, as he pats your back.

You nod, burying your face into his shoulder. “I’m really sorry.” 

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes before leaning in, his lips brushing over yours in a soft, kiss. His kiss is soft at first, teasing, but the second you open up for him, his grip tightens, one hand cupping your face while the other slides down your back, pressing you flush against him. He groans into your mouth, deep and needy.

You could feel the heat radiating off of him and he pressed you back against the bed, his body pinning you in place. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you couldn't help but arch your head back, giving him even more access to your neck. You let out a small gasp as he began kissing and biting at your collarbone as his mouth continue to explore your body with his mouth. 

His hand slides lower, fingertips grazing the waistband of your shorts, playing with the fabric but not moving further. His lips ghost over yours, teasing, as he watches the way your chest rises and falls beneath him.

Before things could go any further, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. You both stayed like that for a moment, caught in the stillness, before you gently guided his body to lie next to you. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. He let out a soft chuckle, but you weren’t focused on that. Instead, you rested your head on his chest, your fingers finding his, intertwining them tightly as you settled into the comfort of his presence.

And just like that, everything is back to normal. At least on the surface.

You apologized over and over, making sure he knew you never meant to hurt him. You reassured him that he was right, that everything he did was only for your sake. You didn’t push back, and didn’t ask questions. Instead, you accepted the blame like it was yours to carry.

He never said sorry. Not even once. Not even for leaving you alone the entire night.

But you let it slide because, in the end, it was your fault… wasn’t it?

After that, you chose your words carefully, avoiding anything that might set him off again. You never wanted to feel that kind of loneliness again, the kind that settles deep in your bones, creeping through the empty, dark space he left behind.

You had already made him feel that way before. Twice, actually. So who were you to complain?

Yeah, it’s all on me.

You tell yourself that, over and over, until it almost feels true. But somewhere in the back of your mind, a small voice whispers. Is it, though?

Why is it always you taking the blame?

Why does it feel like your feelings don’t matter?

Why is it always you bending, apologizing, making things right?

But before those thoughts can settle, you push them away. It’s easier that way. Easier than starting another fight.

You've come to realize that in this relationship, it's always you who has to bend. And maybe that's fair. After all, every problem you've had somehow traces back to you, doesn’t it?

And just like that, everything is back to normal. Just the way you wanted. You've pushed aside all the doubts, all the nagging thoughts, and focused on the present. You're okay again. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

The next day, you spend the entire day at his place, filing another leave of absence. You would have gone to work, but with his influence in the company, you didn't really have a choice. He wanted you to stay with him, so he made sure of it, calling in on your behalf. It should bother you. It does bother you. But you let it slide. Another argument isn’t worth it.

“Love, I’ve been thinking,” his voice is low, and smooth, as he moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. The warmth of his body presses against yours as he pulls you closer. “We haven’t gone on vacation in a while.” His hold tightens slightly as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips nibbling your skin just enough to make you shiver.

You keep your focus on the pan in front of you, stirring the glossy red sauce of the spicy gochujang dish he once taught you to make. 

“And where do you want to go?” you ask, keeping your voice light, as if this is just another conversation. 

“I want to take you to my hometown.” His voice is smooth, as his chin settles on your shoulder. His arms stay firmly wrapped around your waist. “You’ve always wanted to see where I grew up, right?” His breath tickles your skin.

“Lately, things have been… overwhelming,” he continues, his voice softer now. “I think we could use a break. Just the two of us. What do you think?” He tilts his head slightly, eyes watching you closely, waiting.

You don’t hesitate. “Yes, of course. I’d love that.” The words leave your lips before you even process them.

He grins, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “That’s perfect! We’ll leave this Wednesday. Tomorrow, let’s wrap up a few things before we go.” His tone is light and excited.

You froze.

Wednesday? 

You glance at him over your shoulder.

“This Wednesday?” You ask as if you misheard.

He nods, his expression unreadable. “Yeah.” Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Something in his voice shifts ever so slightly as he studies your face. “Why?” He tilts his head, and though his lips curl into a small smile, there’s something else lurking beneath the surface. “You don’t want to go?”

The way he says it, it’s not a question. Not really. It’s a warning. A test.

And you already know the right answer.

“N-no… Of course, I like it. But isn’t this a little… sudden?” You try to sound reasonable, careful not to make it seem like you’re pushing back. “Korea is on the other side of the world, love.”

Jungkook tilts his head, watching you with an unreadable expression before raising a brow. “I don’t see the problem.” His voice is calm and dismissive.

You take a breath. “I have work.”

At that, he smirks, like you just said the funniest thing. “And?” His fingers lazily trace patterns on your arm, his touch light but distracting. “You can file a vacation leave, right? Or…” He pauses, his eyes locking onto yours. “If you still want to work, we can set up a work-from-home arrangement.” He says it so easily. 

His thumb touches your wrist. “You don’t have to worry, love. Even if you resigned tomorrow, you’d still be fine. You have me.” He smiles, pressing a feather-light kiss to your forehead. “I can give you anything you need. Anything you want.”

Your chest tightens, and yet, the words slip from your lips before you can stop them. “Okay.” Because what else are you supposed to say?

“How long are we staying?” You ask, hoping for a solid timeframe, something to hold onto.

Jungkook shrugs, lips curling into a small smile. “I don’t know yet.” His voice is light, almost playful. “But don’t worry, we’ll stay as long as you want.”

Something in your gut tells you the choice isn’t really yours to make.

You’re not expecting anything extraordinary from this trip with Jungkook. To you, it’s just a regular vacation. Your first one together, sure, and your first time traveling so far, but still, just a trip. Something to look forward to, a break from everything.

You tell yourself it’s just that. A getaway.

But what you don’t know is that Jungkook has plans of his own. Plans you wish you had seen coming. Plans that won’t just shift your view of him but will change your life in ways you never imagined.

If only you had realized it sooner, before it slipped beyond your control.

—

Jungkook loves you to the point of obsession. To the point where the thought of losing you tears at him like an ache that never fades. He already has you, but it’s not enough. Not yet. Because if he doesn’t hold on tight, you might slip away.

He tells himself he’s only taking care of you, keeping you safe the way no one else can. But care isn’t enough. He needs all of you. Your body, your mind, and your heart trapped so deeply in him that escape isn’t an option.

You’re fast asleep beside him, your head tilted slightly toward him as the plane hums steadily through the air. Jungkook glances at you, his fingers instinctively adjusting your blanket before brushing away a few stray strands of hair from your face.

His chest tightens just looking at you. His heart beating a little too fast, a little too hard. His fingertips trace the curve of your cheek, lingering for a moment, memorizing the warmth of your skin.

He loves you, so much that it gets under his skin. The thought of you slipping away, of someone else touching you, laughing with you, knowing you the way he does, it makes his blood run hot. It’s possessive, a little unhinged, but he doesn’t care because as long as you're his, everything feels right.

He sat there in the dim glow of the cabin lights, watching you. Just watching. Your head rested against the seat behind him, your slow, steady breaths syncing with the quiet hum of the plane. You looked so peaceful, so his.

Jungkook’s fingers twitched, aching to touch you. Carefully, he reached for your hand, his touch featherlight to avoid waking you. His fingers slipped between yours, securing them. He exhaled slowly, lowering himself beside you, his body finally at ease. With your warmth so close, he allowed his eyes to close.

Seoul welcomed you with open arms.

The city was electric, alive in a way that made your eyes shine. Jungkook had seen Seoul a thousand times, but seeing it through you made it feel new. You marveled at the skyline, the pulse of the streets, the way everything felt both familiar and foreign. He loved that look on your face, pure, unfiltered awe.

He wanted to give you a tour, let you soak in every inch of this place, but exhaustion clung to you after the long flight. He wasn’t about to let you wear yourself out. You had all the time in the world here.

Jungkook’s Seoul penthouse was larger than the one back home. More luxurious. The moment he led you inside, he saw the way your lips parted, your gaze sweeping across the expansive space. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city like a moving painting, streaks of gold and blue reflecting off sleek marble floors. The chandelier overhead cast a warm glow, elegant yet imposing.

Unlike his other penthouse, which leaned toward a more minimalistic style, this one felt fuller, like a place meant to be lived in, not just visited. And now, with you here, it finally felt like home.

Jungkook watched as you moved through the space, your fingertips grazing the polished surfaces, curiosity flickering in your eyes. His stomach tightened. He wanted to freeze this moment, capture the way you looked standing there, fitting so perfectly into his world.

Before he even told you about this trip, he had already made sure everything was perfect. The penthouse, his Seoul home wasn’t just renovated. It was transformed. Every detail was designed to make you feel more at home here than anywhere else. More than the other penthouse. More than the place you called home.

Jungkook didn’t just want you to love this place. He wanted you to feel like you belonged here. That leaving wasn’t even an option.

“Kook, I thought I knew how rich you were, but damn, this is way more than I imagined!” you said, swirling the wine in your glass as you lounged on the couch. The city lights stretched out through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, Seoul alive beneath you.

Jungkook leaned in, taking your free hand in his before pressing a slow kiss to the back of it. But even that wasn’t enough. Sitting beside you wasn’t enough. He wanted more, needed more. Holding your hand was just a weak substitute for what he really craved.

“This is where I lived for six years," he murmured, brushing his lips along your knuckles. “So I wanted it to feel like home.”

Your home.

You tilted your head, watching him with curiosity. “Where are your parents? Do they live separately from you?”

“They’re in Busan,” he answered smoothly, taking a sip of his wine. “That’s my hometown, but I moved here when I started my business.”

You hummed, nodding. Then, the question came.

“Are we going to meet them?”

Jungkook stilled. His lips remained against your skin, but his movements stopped. He tilted his head slightly, a slow grin spreading across his face as he held your gaze.

“Yes,” he said after a moment. “One of these weeks.”

It wasn’t a lie. He had plans for you to meet his family eventually. But not now. Not yet. Right now, he wanted you all to himself, with no distractions, no outside influences. If you met them too soon, they might say things, ask questions, things that could make you think too much.

And he couldn’t have that.

Not when everything was falling into place so perfectly.

His parents were good people. Sweet, jolly, loving. Just like yours. And they loved him, he knew that.

But love didn’t always mean understanding.

Everything changed when they decided to move him away from you after high school. That was their mistake.

His family used to own a food company. It was doing well, until it wasn’t. Bankruptcy hit hard, and they had to pack up and start over in another country, relying on relatives to get back on their feet. Then, years later, some investor showed up, talking big about bringing the company back. His parents ate it up, convinced this was their second chance.

And just like that, they dragged him back to Busan.

For what? A company that was never going to make it? He knew from the start it wouldn’t work, and surprise, surprise. It didn’t.

But that wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was being away from you.

That shit messed him up.

The years without you were torture.

They twisted his mind, frayed the edges of his sanity. Every single day without you bothered him, turned his thoughts into something negative, something desperate. He had spent so many nights thinking of you, wanting you, missing you so badly that he almost left everything behind just to find you again.

But, of course, it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t that easy. He needed a plan.

And now?

Now, everything he had, everything he built, it was all for you.

And he wasn’t going to lose you again.

Your first few days in Seoul were everything you imagined. New places, new experiences, a whole different world to explore. You wanted to do everything at once, squeezing a week’s worth of plans into a single day.

Jungkook found it cute. Exhausting, but cute.

Still, he didn’t like how restless you were. There was no need to rush. You had all the time in the world here with him.

“I saw this huge library in Gangnam,” you said over dinner in Hongdae, eyes practically glowing with excitement. “I think it’d be nice to spend a whole day there, just working and reading. What do you think?”

Jungkook glanced at you, chewing slowly. “You wanna work there for a day, hmm?” His voice was gentle, but his grip on his chopsticks tightened slightly.

He wanted you to enjoy Seoul, but he preferred to pace things out. He had everything planned, not just for the city, but for the rest of South Korea. And you’d explore it all his way.

“Yeah, I just wanna try working outside your apartment for a change. I think that’d be cool,” you said, sipping your drink.

Of course, your job let you work remotely. Because of him.

It wasn’t difficult to pull some strings, to make sure your company gave you that freedom. Jungkook could’ve had you quit altogether if he wanted, but he wasn’t reckless. He knew better than to push too hard, too soon.

He had limits. The kind that kept you from slipping away.

“Okay, you can do that tomorrow.”

As much as he wanted to be with you every second of the day, he couldn’t. He had business to handle too. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping an eye on you.

You weren’t familiar with Seoul yet, and he needed you to be. He wanted you to settle in, to feel at home here the same way you did back in your country because that’s exactly what he planned for. 

Of course, he wasn’t reckless. He wouldn’t just send you off on your own without precautions. He had someone watching, just in case. It wasn’t about control, it was about keeping you safe. People might think he was being overbearing, but they didn’t understand. If you have something precious, you don’t risk losing it. You protect it.

And he already lost you once. That wasn’t happening again.

—

Sitting in a high-rise conference room, discussing market expansion with Seoul’s biggest executives, Jungkook casually checked his phone under the table. His screen lit up with your activity, a habit he never planned to break.

You were at home. That was good. But you’d been on a phone call for almost an hour.

His jaw tightened. Who the hell were you talking to for that long?

He didn’t have full access to your conversations, just enough to know where you were and what you were doing on your phone. Usually, it was nothing out of the ordinary. But this? This was new. And he didn’t like surprises.

Jungkook locked his phone and leaned back in his chair, eyes unreadable as the meeting droned on.

It could be your friends. It could be your family. It could be anyone.

But the fact that he didn’t know was driving him insane.

“We’re positioning ourselves as a premium alternative. Market research shows a gap in high-end offerings for this industry, and we intend to fill that space,” Yoongi, the CEO, said, but Jungkook barely heard him.

His grip tightened on his phone as he stared at your activity log. The timestamp kept ticking up. Forty-five minutes, then fifty, then an hour. Who the hell were you talking to for that long?

Mina? Chloe? Fine. He could tolerate that.

But it could also be Henry.

Fuck him.

Jungkook clenched his jaw. He knew Henry was “just a friend,” but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He didn’t like you talking to any man, let alone being friends with one. If it were up to him, he would’ve cut Henry off years ago.

“Mr. Jeon?”

Jungkook blinked, snapping out of it when he heard his name. He glanced up from his phone, locking the screen before looking at Yoongi.

“Come again?” he asked, voice steady despite the irritation simmering beneath it.

“As I mentioned, we’re positioning ourselves as a high-end alternative. Market research reveals a lack of premium options in this industry, and we plan to capitalize on that opportunity,” yoongi repeated, watching him carefully.

Jungkook exhaled, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“Good,” he said coolly. “But I want clear numbers. Expected ROI, break-even timeline, and contingency plans if the initial launch underperforms. Email them to me by my Monday.”

Yoongi nodded, but Jungkook wasn’t paying attention anymore.

He cut the meeting short without a second thought, pushing back his other appointments. He needed to go home. Now.

The thought of you on the phone for over an hour, laughing, talking, confiding in someone while he was stuck in a boardroom made his blood boil. He couldn’t stand not knowing. He needed to be in control, needed to know every little detail, even the things that weren’t his business. Because when it came to you, everything was his business.

When he stepped into the penthouse, the sight of you greeted him instantly. You were in the receiving area, vacuuming, completely unaware of how restless he’d been.

You’d been here for a week already, and as much as he was letting you do whatever you wanted, he was also watching. Watching what you did, who you talked to, how you spent your time.

“You’re home early. I thought you weren’t coming back until dinner,” you said, smiling as he walked toward you. He pressed a quick kiss against your lips, but his mind was elsewhere.

“Yeah, I am,” he said smoothly, shrugging off his coat. “How are you doing, Y/N?”

You turned off the vacuum, stretching your arms a little. “I’m good. Just cleaning up a bit.”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered around the room until he spotted your phone on the center table.

“What did you do today?” Jungkook asked, watching you closely, waiting, hoping you’d tell him without him having to drag it out of you.

You glanced at him briefly. “Just cleaned up a little and got some work done this morning.”

Not the answer he wanted.

If you were going to tell him about that damn phone call, you would’ve said it by now. But you didn’t.

He couldn’t ask outright, not yet. He knew how easily thoughts could plant themselves in your mind, and he didn’t need you questioning things. He’d find another way to figure it out.

Then you hesitated, inhaling like you had something to say. Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Jungkook leaned against the counter, loosening his tie. “You wanna say something, love?”

You finally spoke. “We’ve been here for a week already, but… we haven’t really done much for a vacation.”

Ah.

You didn’t even need to finish. He already knew where this was going.

“I know you’re really busy with work, but I was just wondering… how long are we planning to stay here?”

Jungkook stared at you for a moment before tilting his head slightly, lips twitching in amusement. “Why? You wanna go home already?”

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head. “Of course not! I was just curious… I mean, we’re here for a vacation, but you work a lot.”

He knew what you meant, but that didn’t mean he liked hearing it.

“Oh? I didn’t realize we weren’t allowed to work during a vacation.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, one brow raised.

“That’s not what I meant,” you huffed. “I just—I was just wondering—”

Jungkook cut you off, nodding as if he was mocking you. “I get it. You want us to go out more instead of me working.”

“N-no, that’s not—”

“It’s okay, Y/N.” His voice was smooth, sharp eyes locked onto you. “I get your point. We’ll do things your way.”

Except you didn’t need to say it. He already knew what was on your mind. But he wasn’t going to let you say it.

True to his word, Jungkook made sure to give you what you wanted.

For the next week, he took you around the city showing you Seoul through his own curated version of it. He noticed the way your mood shifted, heavier than before, and he knew it was because of that conversation.

But he didn’t have to address it.

Because soon enough, you’d forget about it.

Just like right now.

—

You were sipping a hot coffee, eyes locked on the dazzling view from Namsan Tower. The city stretched beneath you, glowing under the deep night sky, and Jungkook knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Wow. Seoul is really beautiful, Kook,” you murmured, your voice full of wonder.

But he wasn’t looking at the view.

He was looking at you.

You were glowing under the soft moonlight, the city lights reflecting in your eyes. He should be admiring the skyline, but you were the only thing worth looking at. He hated how much he loved moments like this, how much he wanted to preserve them.

So, without a word, he pulled his phone from his pocket, aimed the camera at you, and snapped a photo.

You notice Jungkook taking a picture of you, and without hesitation, you step closer, snatching his phone from his hand. A grin spreads across your face as you switch to the front camera.

“Come on, Kook, smile!” you say, glancing at him before snapping a quick selfie. The first shot catches him off guard, his expression unreadable, but you don’t stop there. You take a few more. Three, to be exact until you're satisfied.

Jungook watches you quietly, letting you have your moment.

“Honestly, a picture doesn’t even do justice to how beautiful this city is,” you say, handing his phone back before turning to admire the view again.

His gaze lingers on you for a second longer before he finally looks at the skyline, pretending to take in the same sight you are. “Yeah, you’re right,” he says, voice smooth, controlled.

You glance at him, eyes curious. “Since you’ve lived here most of your life, are you used to seeing this view?”

Jungkook leans against the railing, watching the city lights flicker. “Hmm… I’d say yes, but I still find it beautiful.”

You hum in response, sipping your coffee. “Our city is nice too, but maybe I appreciate this more since it’s my first time here.”

A slow smirk tugs at Jungkook’s lips. Good.

Because you’d be here longer than you expected.

And by the time you realized it… you’d already have fallen in love with it.

You both linger around Namsan Tower a little longer, strolling past the endless sea of love locks. The air is crisp, carrying the quiet hum of the city below. You stop at a small booth selling locks, eyes lighting up as you pick one.

“Kook, let’s do one,” you say, already reaching for a marker. You scribble your initials on the lock, then his, before securing it onto the fence. With a grin, you toss the key away, watching it disappear into the night.

Jungkook watches you, amusement flickering in his eyes. You think this lock is what symbolizes your unbreakable bond? That’s cute. But it’s unnecessary. 

With or without it, you’re his. He’ll make sure of that.

Jungkook slips an arm around your waist, pulling you in as he looks down at the love lock you just attached. “Unbreakable, huh?” he murmurs, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

If only you knew how true that was.

You’ve done almost everything there is to do in Seoul, and he knows you’ve loved every second of it. From the food to the culture, every little thing has captivated you. And watching you take it all in, smiling like this city is your new home, it’s a sight he could never get tired of.

One of the things he’s grown to love about you is how easily pleased you are. The smallest things make you happy, and that makes you easy to care for. Easy to keep close.

Even back in high school, you saw something in him that others didn’t. When people distanced themselves, you stayed. When they looked away, you looked closer. You chose him, even when no one else would.

Maybe it was a pity. Maybe it was something deeper. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that you loved him, and that was enough. Enough for him to hold on, to fight for this, to shape this love into something unshakable. What others thought of him was irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was you, your choices, your opinions. And as long as he could help it, your choices would always align with his. Even if that meant guiding them himself.

He took you around South Korea, but on his terms. It wasn’t the kind of vacation where every day was a new adventure. No, he kept it balanced. Some days for exploring, some for work. That was how it had to be.

You never argued. Never complained. Whether it was because you didn’t mind or because you simply chose not to voice it, he didn’t care. Silence was compliance, and compliance meant control.

And that’s exactly how he wanted it. 

Jungkook followed a step behind you as you traced your fingers along the cold metal railing, your gaze lost in the beauty of Nami Island. The soft autumn breeze played with the hem of your pleated skirt, your oversized knitted sweater draping over your frame in a way that made you look so warm, so delicate. He couldn’t wait to take you home, wrap you up in his arms, and keep you there for as long as he wanted.

You stopped suddenly, turning to him with a soft smile. It was enough to make his heart stutter, but there was something in your eyes. Something distant. He quickened his pace, closing the space between you, and without a word, he took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as you walked side by side.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Kook,” you said, your voice light but careful.

He glanced at you, studying your expression. You were smiling, but he knew you too well, something was off. 

“It’s a pleasure, love.” He waited, expecting you to say more. But you didn’t.

He hated that.

“How much do you love your stay here?” His tone was casual, but the question wasn’t.

“I really love it here, Jungkook. I really do. Korea is so different from home, but still, I love it here.”

Home.

The word made something dark coil inside him.

He pulled you closer, guiding your head against his chest before pressing a kiss to your forehead. He held you there as you walked together, feeling the warmth of your body against his, the way you fit so perfectly against him. You were his home, his peace. His.

But no matter how tightly he held on, he couldn’t control everything. He could make every decision for you, shape every choice in his favor, but there was one thing he hadn’t accounted for:

The possibility that you might make a choice of your own.

And that was the one thing he wasn’t prepared for.

Jungkook barely had time to remove his coat when he saw the worry in your eyes. You looked like you’d been waiting for him for a while, pacing, rehearsing your words. He already didn’t like where this was going.

“Jungkook,” you started, your voice edged with hesitation. “I just had a meeting with our senior. They need me back for a presentation with new investors and stakeholders. I also have to report to the board—”

He stopped listening. He didn’t need to hear the rest. The way your voice wavered, the way you clutched your hands together, he already knew what you were about to ask.

“Then let someone else handle it.” His tone was clipped, final, like it was the simplest solution in the world.

“I can’t!” Your frustration spilled over, your voice rising slightly. “I’m the Investor Relations Manager. It’s my job, Kook! No one else can do it.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened.

He had already let you keep your job even though he preferred otherwise. It was his choice to allow it. And now, you were asking him to choose again? To let you go back?

“When are we going home?” Your voice softened, practically pleading now. “Kook, they really need me this time.”

He held your gaze for a moment, his expression unreadable, then casually looked away as he removed his coat, his movements slow, deliberate.

“I’m not sure,” he finally said, shaking off invisible creases in the fabric. “I’ll be busy for the next couple of weeks. I have deals to close, business meetings to attend. You know how it is.”

You swallowed hard. “Then can I go home first?”

That made him stop. Completely.

His fingers curled around the fabric of his coat, knuckles whitening as the air between you turned still. His dark eyes lifted to meet yours, and something flickered behind them. Something unreadable yet unmistakably dangerous.

“You’re leaving me?” His voice dripped with sarcasm, but underneath it was something else.

Panic.

You stepped closer, shaking your head quickly. “Kook, I’m not leaving you. I just— I really need to go back. Just for work.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he let out a slow, humorless scoff.

“Wow,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “After everything I’ve done for you, is it that easy for you to leave? Just because they called you? What? Once?”

“That’s not—”

Jungkook’s fingers twitched at his side, his breathing slow, controlled—too controlled. He could feel his patience thinning, unraveling like a loose thread he was trying desperately to keep together.

“They told you before?” His voice was quiet, almost calm, but there was something beneath it. Something sharp. “And you didn’t tell me?”

You flinched slightly. “I didn’t want to ruin your mood,” you admitted.

He let out a slow breath through his nose, jaw locking. “And now you’re blaming me?”

You pressed your lips together, frustration flickering across your face. “No, of course not! I just—I didn’t want to ruin our vacation, Jungkook. That’s why I kept it to myself. But I have to tell you now.”

He scoffed. “And you don’t think telling me now ruins it?”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“Well, that’s exactly what you meant, Y/N!” His voice was sharper now.

You blinked at him, startled by the sudden shift. He rarely raised his voice, but when he did, it was like a storm brewing, low, intense, unpredictable.

“I’ve been here, juggling everything. Work, time with you, making sure you have everything you need. And you—” He let out a dry laugh. “The second they call, you’re ready to drop everything. Just like that.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. No words came out.

Jungkook tilted his head, studying you. The way your hands trembled slightly at your sides, the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed back emotions you were trying so hard to hide.

He should feel guilty. He should care.

But he didn’t.

“The worst part?” His voice was softer now, but it was the kind of softness that made the air feel heavy. “You prove to me, over and over again, that I will never be your priority.”

A tear slipped from the corner of your eye, but he didn’t move. Didn’t reach for you.

Let you feel it. Let you sit in it.

Because this wasn’t just about work. This was about control.

And he refused to lose it.

“If you’re so desperate to leave,” he finally said, turning away, his voice cold and detached, “then go.”

He didn’t wait for a response.

Didn’t need to.

Because he already knew that you won’t leave.

He couldn’t understand why you insisted on working. It wasn’t like you had to. He was here, ready to give you everything. Yet, you kept holding on to something so insignificant when he had already built an entire fucking empire for you. Every deal, every dollar, every sacrifice, it was all for you.

When he started making real money, it wasn’t greed that drove him It was you. You were the reason he clawed his way to the top, the reason he burned through sleepless nights, the reason he never let himself fail. He stayed away, kept his distance, let you live your little life because he wanted to come back when he was ready, when he was powerful enough to make sure you could never slip through his fingers again.

The person you knew in high school? He buried him. In his place stands someone unrecognizable, someone untouchable. And yet, no matter how much money, status, or control he has, the thought of you walking away still eats him alive.

So before that can happen, he’s already making sure it won’t. Because what’s the point of having everything if he doesn’t have you?

You’re the only fucking reason he has to live.

Jungkook yanked his phone from his pocket, his fingers moving swiftly as he dialed the CEO of your company. He knew you wouldn’t leave. Not really. You couldn’t. But he wasn’t the type to sit back and hope. He made sure of things. He always did.

“Y/N won’t be coming back,” he said the moment the call connected, his tone cold, final. “Fire her. Tell her she’s being replaced by someone more competent.”

There was no hesitation on the other end. Just immediate agreement. As it should be. The moment the call ended, he exhaled slowly, satisfied.

He worked too hard, built too much, just to have you run back to a life that no longer served his plans. Everything he had, his success, his power, it was all for you. But if your choices didn’t align with his? Then you didn’t need choices at all. He still let you think you had them, of course. As long as they led exactly where he wanted.

And sure enough, he was right. You didn’t leave. Because for what? Work? You didn’t have one anymore.

He watched as you withdrew, as you curled in on yourself, as you let the weight of everything settle in. He didn’t stop you when you pulled away, when you cried, when you let yourself crumble under the reality he created for you. He let you feel the loss, the loneliness. Not because he didn’t care. Of course, he cared. He always cared.

But sometimes, he had to let you break on your own. Because only then would you finally see, he was all you had. Just like you were all he needed.

Of course, he didn’t let you cry alone the whole time. He gave you space just enough to let the weight of everything sink in, to let you feel small, lost. But he was always there, lingering in the background, ready to be the only comfort you had left.

Because he would never leave you to suffer on your own. Not when he was the one who put you in this position in the first place. But you didn’t need to know that.

Now, in the dim glow of the bedroom, he held you close, feeling the way your body trembled against his. His arms were firm around you, securing you exactly where you belonged. Right here, with him. He leaned against the headboard, his fingers tracing slow, soothing patterns on your arm, his presence steady, inescapable.

“I know it hurts now, love,” he murmured, his voice soft, patient, the perfect contrast to the chaos he caused. “But maybe it’s for the best. Maybe this happened for a reason. You’ll be fine… Trust me. As long as you’re with me, you’ll be fine.”

He wiped the tears from your cheeks with gentle fingers, studying your face as if memorizing every vulnerable detail. And you didn’t say a word. You didn’t ask for help, didn’t fight to get your job back, didn’t even question why it all happened so suddenly.

Nothing.

Only quiet sobs escaped your lips.

And that was fine. More than fine.

Because as long as this kept you here, exactly where he wanted you. He could live with that.

You stayed home for the following days. Barely leaving the bedroom. Jungkook let you be, giving you space while he handled business, but that only worked in his favor. You weren’t going anywhere, and he didn’t have to worry too much. Not when he had eyes on you the entire time.

Of course, you didn’t know about the hidden CCTV in the apartment. You didn’t need to.

Most of the time, when he checked the feed, you were either sleeping, mindlessly scrolling on your phone, or watching TV. You looked drained, distant. Maybe even depressed. But he wasn’t too concerned. You’d be fine. You always were.

He also monitored your phone activity. He saw the messages, the way you still kept in touch with your friends and family, updating them on your life. But he noticed how carefully you chose your words, how you left things out.

And that? That satisfied him.

You defended him without being asked, without him even having to plant the idea in your head. You already knew what he wanted. You knew exactly what to say, how to make them believe that everything was fine. That’s how he knew you loved him just as much as he loved you.

You were such a good girl for him. So obedient.

He knew your friends didn’t like him especially Mina. Not that it mattered. If anything, it thrilled him to watch you choose him over them every time. To watch you stand by him, no matter what.

It felt so good.

And he wasn’t going to let you drown in misery forever. No, he made sure of that.

For the past week, he took you out every day. Five-star restaurants, designer boutiques, all your favorite places. He made sure you were surrounded by luxury, by comfort, by him. He wiped away every trace of sadness, covering it up with indulgence, making you forget, if only for a moment what had been taken from you.

But he wasn’t blind. He saw the shift in you. The way your smiles were forced. The way your laughter lacked its usual warmth. The way you were starting to notice.

But he didn’t have to do anything about it.

Not yet.

Because sooner or later, you’d understand. The life he was giving you was far better than the one you had before.

And when that realization finally sank in?

You wouldn’t want to leave.

—

Just like he promised, he was taking you to Busan to meet his family. It felt like a necessary step. An assurance of his love for you. A way to solidify things, to remind you that he was willing to give you everything, even parts of himself he didn’t care for.

He also figured this trip would help. A change of scenery. New faces. Because lately, the only person you had been around was him. Not that he minded, but he didn’t want you to feel isolated. Even if, in reality, that was exactly what was happening.

His relationship with his parents had never been close. Even as a kid, there was always distance. But after they dragged him back to Korea, forcing him away from you, that’s when he truly cut them off.

The only reason he still tolerated them now was simple.

They were the reason he worked so hard. The reason he built everything from the ground up. The reason he clawed his way to the top, just to have you in his arms again.

If not for that, he wouldn’t even spare them a second thought.

"I'm really glad you finally visited us after so many years, son. And you even brought your girlfriend with you," Jungkook’s mother said, her voice warm with nostalgia.

Jungkook barely reacted, keeping his expression smooth as he sliced through his food. You and he sat at the dining table with his parents, the scent of simmered broth and fresh side dishes filling the space. His parents were thrilled, probably thinking this visit meant something.

They had no idea how he really felt. And they didn’t need to.

“What do you do for a living?” His father’s voice cut through the quiet clatter of utensils. The question was aimed at you, and instantly, Jungkook felt your body tense beside him. Your hand, which had been resting lightly on the table, twitched just slightly and he clenched his chopsticks tighter.

Before you could even answer, he spoke for you. “She’s taking a break right now. That’s why we’re here for a long time.” His voice was even, but his grip had turned rigid.

You turned to him, your expression unreadable, but he refused to meet your eyes. Instead, he continued eating, slow and controlled.

“Really? But what did you do before?” His mother chimed in, her curiosity laced with harmless interest.

He wanted to shut this conversation down. Shift it away. Stop them from prying. But he had to play along.

“I was an Investor Relations Manager,” you answered, offering a small, polite smile before turning your focus back to your food.

His father hummed in acknowledgment, then turned to Jungkook. “Investor, huh? As I recall, your business is in the same field, isn’t it?”

Jungkook stabbed his chopsticks into a piece of meat, his jaw tightening.

“You never tell us much about your life. Even your business,” his mother added.

"All we know is you’re making millions and millions every day. If only you invested in your own parents’ business, that would be great.”

Jungkook mentally rolled his eyes, keeping his expression unreadable.

He would never invest in something like that.

And he sure as hell would never invest in the very thing that tore him away from you.

Jungkook could feel your eyes on him, waiting for a response. But he kept his gaze fixed on his food, forcing himself to chew slowly. It wasn’t worth talking about. Not now. Not ever.

Sensing the silence stretching too long, you spoke up instead.

“Actually, Jungkook and I met at work, and before that, the last time we saw each other was in high school. That’s where we really got to know each other.”

His mother giggled, a soft, nostalgic sound. “I still can’t believe you two are high school sweet—”

“Honey, they were only friends in high school!” His father cut in with a laugh.

“Oh, right! But if we hadn’t moved back here, maybe you two would’ve been dating since then!”

Jungkook tightened his grip on his chopsticks. The conversation was light, harmless even. But he wasn’t stupid. He noticed how you shifted in your seat, how your fingers grazed the table absentmindedly like you were holding something back. He could read you too well. He knew there was something you wanted to say but you didn’t.

And he had a feeling he knew exactly what it was.

“If only he had introduced you to us before!” His mother sighed wistfully before turning her gaze to Jungkook. “You know, he was different when he was younger. More… open, I suppose. But ever since we moved back here, he became quiet, distant. We knew he wanted to stay in your country, he even begged us to go back but it wasn’t that simple.”

She looked at him then, a sad, longing expression crossing her face. “We’re proud of the man he’s become, of course. We just wish he could be open with us again. Let us back into his life.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched. The sound of his father’s spoon clinking against his bowl suddenly felt too loud. The warm aroma of the food became nauseating.

This. This right here was why he had kept his distance. Why he loathed them.

Pathetic.

They sat there, spewing bullshit, acting as if they were the victims. Acting as if they deserved his time, his emotions, his fucking pity. They had no idea. They never took responsibility. Instead, they pointed fingers at him, as if it was his fault that everything turned out this way.

But it wasn’t.

It was theirs.

He was already done with this conversation. Done with this entire visit. He needed to get out of here.

With you.

The lunch dragged on longer than Jungkook would have liked. His parents kept the conversation going, moving from small talk to stories about their old business. Their grand rise and inevitable failure. They spoke as if reminiscing about something tragic, but all Jungkook heard was noise.

He barely touched his food, his jaw tightening every time they brought up the past. He masked his irritation well, but the tension in his grip against his chopsticks was telling. He just wanted to leave.

This was exactly why he never wanted to come here. Why he never wanted you to meet them. They talked too much. About things that didn’t matter. About things he never wanted you to hear.

And now, he could already tell. You had questions. You always did when something didn’t add up. And right now, after everything his parents had carelessly spilled, your mind must be full of them.

Of course, you didn’t ask in front of them. You wouldn’t. But he knew you too well.

And he was right.

Because the moment the car was back on the road, heading toward Seoul, your voice broke the silence.

“Your parents are nice.” Your voice was light, but Jungkook could hear the underlying curiosity.

“Uh-huh.” His response was flat, laced with sarcasm.

“They even wanted us to stay. They’re really accommodating, Kook.”

He saw you glance at him from the corner of his eye, but he kept his gaze locked on the road. His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly.

“I have a meeting first thing in the morning.”

Without warning, he overtook the car in front of him, the sudden movement making you flinch. 

“Sorry, love.” His voice softened, one hand briefly leaving the wheel to rest on your thigh. A gentle caress.

He had spent all his patience back at that house. The last thing he wanted was to talk about his parents again.

“I didn’t know you had an older brother.” Your tone was casual, but there was something beneath it. An unspoken challenge. “It sucks that I only found out now. I just realized… I barely know anything about your past.” You sighed. “I feel bad.”

“That’s why I brought you home to meet them,” he said, hoping it didn’t sound as sarcastic as it felt.

You studied him for a moment, like you were trying to read him. He gave you a small smile, his hand still resting on your thigh, fingers tracing lazy circles. A distraction. A way to keep you comfortable.

Then, you caught him off guard.

“Kook, why didn’t you invest in your parents’ business?”

His grip on the wheel tightened. He didn’t expect that.

You continued before he could answer. “You’re a big-time investor, right? It would help them a lot.”

“It’s not worth investing in. It’s already a failed business.” His tone was neutral, controlled.

“But they loved that business. Losing it broke them. Isn’t there any chance of bringing it back?”

“No.” His voice was sharp, final. “If there was, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

That was a lie. Even if their business was worth saving, he still wouldn’t do it. They didn’t deserve it. They didn’t deserve anything from him.

You looked at him again, hesitant, like you wanted to push further. To unravel the parts of him he kept hidden. But then, you seemed to realize he wasn’t in the mood to talk about it.

So you stayed quiet.

Good.

As much as he wanted to tell you everything, how his parents ruined his life, how they ripped him away from you, he couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk you looking at him differently.

He’d rather keep you in the dark than let you see the parts of him he didn’t want you to understand.

—

It’s been a week since you and Jungkook visited his parents. And two weeks  since you lost your job.

You haven’t told him about it. You haven’t asked about going home either. Not once. And it’s better that way. If you did, he already had an answer prepared, but he preferred that you didn’t ask at all.

You’ve become more obedient, following his lead without hesitation. You don’t ask for anything anymore. You don’t make requests. You just… comply.

It should make him happy. He decides what’s best for you, after all. But he doesn’t want you to turn into a lifeless doll, either. You should still function like a normal girlfriend and hold onto him like you need him.

And you do need him.

Jungkook wants to give you everything, especially now that you’re finally settling into his rhythm. He wonders if you realize how much he adores you like this. Maybe you don’t. Maybe you think this is just another day, another morning, another moment.

But to him, it’s everything.

You’re sleeping beside him, curled up and peaceful, completely unaware of his gaze lingering on you. His love for you grows stronger every day, so intense it nearly overwhelms him. It consumes him.

He rests his head on his arm, watching you, memorizing the way your lashes flutter faintly with every slow breath. His free hand moves on its own, fingers ghosting over your cheek.

His heart pounds in his ears.

The back of his fingers trail down to your lips, tracing the soft curve of them. You don’t even stir. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering longer than necessary.

Then, his fingers drift lower, down your arm, feeling the warmth of your skin. So soft. So delicate. His.

He could feel a familiar sensation growing between his legs as he touched your soft skin. He tried to ignore it but failed. The more he touched you, the more he thought about how much he wanted to be with you. He couldn't stop imagining all the ways he wanted to touch you, to be inside you. He felt his self-control slipping away as he placed his thumb finger on your lower lip, imagining how it would feel wrapped around him.

He couldn't help but look at your body, the outline of your breasts visible through your flimsy pajamas.

He have touched you several times but the sensation and feeling of your body was so intoxicating and addicting he couldn't get enough.

Fuck, Y/N.

He can barely keep himself from losing control. He desperately wants to bend you over and taste your lips but he knows that's not what he's supposed to do, so instead he slowly pulled his dick out and began to slowly stroke it while you sleep beside him, teasing himself.

He can’t help it but want to press you against the bed, taking in and enjoying every curve of your body, but he knows he can’t do that. Not now. He takes your hand softly in his, holding it warmly. His other hand slowly teases his dick, imagining how you’d feel under him, as he stares directly at your pretty face, his thoughts filled with nothing but how desperately he wants you, yet he holds himself back.

Damn it, love. 

He gripped himself tightly, his dick throbbing and leaking a small amount of cum that he eagerly spread over himself, slicking his movements as he pumped it harder and harder, his eyes locked onto your peaceful sleeping face, silently begging for you to wake.

His hands, despite his best efforts to keep them still, began to roam down your body, splaying out over your stomach and slowly inching lower until his fingers splayed out over your pussy through the thin fabric of your sleepwear.

He wanted you to wake up as his body already halfway there even without your touch. He hoped your eyes would flutter open and catch him like this, his pants tented, his hips subtly humping the air, his hands twitching with the urge to grope your body again unconsciously.

"Fuck..." he hissed under his breath, losing control as his hand moved faster over his length, the wet sounds filling the room.

"Love..." he moaned your nickname, imagining it was your hand, your mouth, your heat around him rather than his own hands. 

The soft, sensual moan that escaped your lips in your sleep sent electric jolts through him, making his grip on his dick tighten as he continued to stroke himself feverishly. He scooted closer, his fingers teasing your pussy through your clothes, rubbing slow circles over it.

His breath hitched as he felt the dampness seeping through your thin pajama bottoms, signaling your body's unconscious response to his touches. He gently slipped his hand inside, finding your folds slick and warm, a soft whimper escaping his lips at the contact.

As your eyes flutter open, you catch the erotic sight before you. Jungkook was furiously pumping his dick, clear fluid leaking steadily from the tip. The wet, obscene sounds of his strokes filled the air.

“K-kook, what are you doing?” Your voice was low and husky and your arousal was obvious, making him lose control faster.

Without warning, he covered your body with his, capturing your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth, dominating it as his body pressed you into the mattress. His weight pushed your smaller frame down, causing your chest to rise and fall rapidly.

He humped against your center like a wild animal, marking your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses and sucking hickeys onto your jaw. His lips traveled down your chin, your jawline, your neck, leaving red, passionate marks. He was practically dry humping you, his control shot.

"Love..." He growled softly, hearing your shaky voice. Your arousal made him hungry. He yanked your shirt off, his mouth latching onto your breast without warning. You threw your head back with a loud moan as he sucked hard, his other hand pinching and rolling your nipple.

He could feel your softness against his tongue, the way you filled his mouth perfectly. He sucked harder, his hand squeezing your other breast possessively.

He kissed lower, trailing his lips down your stomach, his hands pulling your pajama bottoms down slowly. He peppered kisses on your pelvis, his hot breath tickling your lower belly. "Lift your hips, Y/N..." He whispered, his voice muffled against your skin.

He spread your thighs wider, diving between them. He flattened his tongue against your entrance, licking upwards to catch your wetness. "Damn," He muttered, watching you toss your head back. He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking softly while pushing two fingers inside you.

God, you’re so fucking beautiful.

He watches you play with your breasts. Your fingers twisting your hard peaks made him harder. He pushed his fingers deeper, his mouth suctioning around your clit. Your moans grew louder, your back arching off the bed. His free hand spread your thighs wider apart.

Your nails dug deeper into the bed as you neared the edge. He suddenly pulled back, leaving you empty and disappointed. Before you could protest, he pulled his pants down and pressed the tip of his hard dick against your clit. His head rested on top of you, grinding his tip against you.

"K-kook… please?" He smirked wickedly, watching you throw your head back. He ground his tip against your sensitive nub, teasing you. 

He paused his tease and grabbed your face, staring harshly into your eyes. "Remember this...you're mine." He grumbled, crashing his lips against yours. The kiss was desperate and hungry, his tongue dominating yours immediately. He pushed his tip inside you slowly before thrusting hard. “Do you understand that?”

"Do you understand?!” He growled, his deep voice echoing. He thrusts his hips harder, watching your breasts bounce. He repeated himself slower, "Answer the damn question." His fingers dug into your hips painfully. "Use your words,"

"Yes!” You answered with a tear in your eyes as his movement became faster.

"Fuck, Y/N," he panted against your lips, his body shaking when both of you reach orgasm. He remained buried deep inside you, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're mine. Only. Mine." He enunciated each word slowly, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. When he broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes filled with love and adoration. “I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much it hurts.”

—

You’re such a good girl. So obedient. So perfect for him.

Jungkook always knew you’d get there eventually. You’re adjusting—slowly, but that’s okay. He can be patient. He understands that change takes time.

But he’s not blind. He sees how quiet you’ve become, how your laughter has faded into silence. You talk less, do less. Even when he offers to take you out, most of the time, your refuse. You spend most of your time curled up in bed, staring at your phone or watching TV, lost in some world that isn’t his.

That’s fine. You’ll come around.

He tells himself it’s just part of the process. Your adjustment period. You’re still settling into your new reality, learning to accept that this is your home now.

But even if he understands, that doesn’t mean he likes it.

He misses the way you used to be. The spark in your eyes, the way you used to tease him, the way you’d reach for him without thinking. That version of you is slipping away, fading like a dream upon waking.

Does he regret this? Is he having second thoughts?

Never.

This is only temporary. He knows that if he wavers now, if he lets himself get soft, he’ll never have what he truly wants.

So he won’t.

Instead, he’ll remind you.

He’ll give you all the attention you need, fill every empty space in your mind until there’s no room left for doubt.

“Lately, you’ve been watching a lot of baking videos,” Jungkook muses, his voice casual. It’s a quiet Friday afternoon, and he got home earlier than usual. You’re curled up on the couch, a snack in hand, eyes fixed on the TV.

He moves closer, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck before catching your lips. He feels you relax beneath him, just slightly.

“Nothing really to watch,” you reply, brushing it off.

Jungkook settles beside you, his gaze never leaving you as he reaches for a snack. His fingers trail absentmindedly along your thigh, slow and deliberate.

“I was thinking,” he starts, his tone light, “maybe you’d like to take baking lessons? Learn how to do it yourself.”

“That’s not necessary, Kook,” you say with a small laugh. “I just find it entertaining, that’s all.”

He hums, rubbing slow circles into your skin. “Then do you want to do something? Yoga classes, maybe?”

Silence.

You hold his gaze, but there’s something in your expression that makes his stomach tighten. You hesitate, as if weighing whether to say what’s really on your mind. And suddenly, he regrets even asking.

He should change the subject. He should pull you back into something softer, safer. But before he can, you speak.

“Well, if you have something in—”

“When are we going home?”

His whole body stills.

For a second, he doesn’t move. The words settle between you, heavy and suffocating. He exhales, slow and measured, before finally standing.

“I’m not sure yet,” he says, already walking toward the dining hall. “I told you, I have a lot to handle, love. I’ll let you know when.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for your response. He turns on his heel, heading toward the dining hall. He pulls the refrigerator open as he grabs a bottle of water, twisting the cap off before pouring himself a glass. The sound of liquid hitting glass fills the silence.

He knows you're there before he even turns around.

Your presence lingers, hesitant but heavy. He takes his time, swallowing the water then he finally turns to face you.

“I miss home, Kook.”

Home. That fucking word again.

Ever since you started mentioning home, Jungkook has felt a slow, burning irritation clawing at him. The word itself is harmless, but coming from your lips, it feels like a blade. You and he have different definitions of home, and every time you say it, it grates against his nerves.

“We’ve been here for three months already, and I really, really miss home.” Your voice wavers, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and it makes his irritation flare hotter.

“Aren’t we living in the same home either way?” His voice drips with sarcasm, his patience thinning.

“That’s not what I mean. I miss my family, my friends, my country—”

“And you don’t think I feel that too?” He cuts you off, his tone sharper now.

The glass in his hand meets the kitchen island with a dull thud, his fingers tightening around the rim before he releases it. His gaze, dark and unreadable, locks onto yours.

“Do you think I don’t want to go back?” He exhales harshly. “I planned to stay here for a vacation. But I had to handle so many things because, for what? To fucking build the life I want for us!” His voice rises, his frustration cracking through the surface. “I’m not doing this for myself, Y/N. I’m doing this to secure our future.”

Tears finally spill down your cheeks as you look at him, and something about it. The way you’re crying, the way you’re making him feel like the villain making his jaw tighten.

“Tell me,” he steps forward, closing the distance between you, his presence towering over you, “do you really think I’m keeping you here just because I want to?” His voice dips lower, but the intensity in his stare is suffocating.

You shake your head quickly. “Kook, that’s not what I meant!” Your fingers tighten around his, desperate, pleading. “Of course, I appreciate you! I’m sorry if that’s how it sounded, but that’s not what I meant—”

You keep talking, rushing to defend yourself, but Jungkook isn’t listening anymore.

His mind is elsewhere.

Your words dissolve into the background as something deeper stirs inside him. He watches your lips move, watches the way you hold onto him like you’re afraid of slipping away. 

Before you can finish, he pulls his hands away, wiping his own tears like he’s trying to erase the moment entirely.

Then he steps back.

“I think we should give ourselves some space.” His voice is quieter now, but distant, detached. He turns, ready to walk away.

But before he can take another step, you do something that surprises him.

“Jungkook, no!”

Before he can take another step, your arms are around his waist, locking him in place. Your grip is desperate, too tight, too frantic, like you're afraid he'll vanish the second you let go.

“N-no… please, let’s talk about this now! Please don’t leave me again.”

The way your voice breaks sends a thrill through him. You’re crying—really crying—and he didn’t expect it. Not like this.

“Please don’t leave me again! Let’s talk about this now. P-please don’t leave me alone.”

Your hands clutch at his back, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt like you're trying to anchor yourself. When you pull back to look at him, your face is soaked, lips trembling, eyes blown wide with fear. Fear.

His heart pounds so hard it’s almost painful. A rush of something hot, something intoxicating, swirls inside him. You need him.

You really need him.

“W-we can talk about this now. Just please, don’t leave me alone.”

You bury yourself into him again, squeezing so tightly he almost forgets to breathe.

Jungkook stands frozen, overwhelmed by the moment, his pulse hammering in his ears. His breath comes out unsteady as his lips curl into a slow, hidden smile. He wants to laugh. Fuck, he wants to celebrate.

Because this. This is exactly what he’s been waiting for.

You’re clinging to him. Begging. Terrified at the thought of losing him.

You get it now, don’t you?

After a long pause, he finally moves. His hands glide up your back, soothing, reassuring. He exhales softly, letting just enough warmth seep into his voice.

“Okay, love. We’ll fix this.”

He’s too happy. A little too happy.

Your reaction, it was unexpected, raw, perfect. The way you clung to him, the way your voice cracked, the way you begged, fuck, it’s all replaying in his head like a song on repeat. It was beautiful. You need him just as much as he needs you. You just proved it.

And that means one thing: You’ll never leave. Not really.

You might resist, you might hesitate, but in the end, you break exactly how he wants you to. He doesn’t just control you, your whole existence is wrapped around him now, woven into his life so tightly there’s no escape.

But then, why?

Why did you suddenly bring up home? Why now, after all this time?

His jaw tightens. Something triggered you. Something. Or someone.

He doesn’t need to guess. He already knows.

It’s past 2 AM when he finally moves. The room is quiet, bathed in the soft blue glow of the nightlight. You're asleep, curled up in the king-sized bed, your breathing slow, steady and peaceful. Completely unaware.

Jungkook reaches for your phone on the bedside table, unlocking it effortlessly with his Face ID. He leans back on the couch, screen illuminating his face, and scrolls straight to your messages.

He knows exactly where to look.

And of course, he was right.

His smirk is slow, dangerous, curling at the edges as he reads.

You: I miss you too! I’ll see you soon once I return.

Mina: As you should. I’m so sick of being with Henry all the time! When are you even coming home? You’ve been there since forever.

Chloe: Yeah, Y/N. I thought you’d only be there for a vacation? You never said you’d stay this long.

You: Not sure with Jungkook. He has a lot of business to do as of now.

Henry: Are you even part of his business? Last time I checked, you and he were there for a vacation, not for business. Seriously, Y/N, he’s caging you at this point.

His smirk twitches.

And then, there it is. A missed video call, two fucking hours.

Yesterday. While he was too busy working to notice.

His fingers tighten around the phone. Of course. They filled your head with bullshit. 

How stupid of him to let this slip.

It won’t happen again.

He locks the phone and sets it back on the table, gaze flickering toward you. You’re still fast asleep, unaware that your little secret is no longer a secret.

Jungkook leans back, exhaling through his nose, his mind already working.

He’ll fix this.

He always does.

Jungkook doesn’t waste time.

The moment he discovers what your so-called friends have been whispering in your ear, he takes action.

First thing in the morning, before you even stir awake, he makes a call. The kind of call that isn’t exactly legal. By noon, he’s holding a sleek, black signal jammer in his hands, fresh from the black market. Compact, powerful, and silent.

He won’t resort to something as obvious as taking your phone away. That’s not the game he plays. No, no, no. He wants you to believe you’re still in control. That your world isn’t shrinking. That nothing’s changed.

Because that’s the key, you can’t miss what you don’t realize you’ve lost.

He positions the device in a discreet spot, its range wide enough to swallow every signal in the apartment. But, of course, he’s thought ahead. He installs a high-power signal booster for himself because while your world goes dark, his remains crystal clear. He still needs to monitor things. Track things. Track you.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice. The way your fingers swipe at your screen again and again, waiting for something to load. The way your brows knit together when nothing does. The way you glance around, confused, frustrated.

He sees it all. 

Your world is already shrinking, and you don’t even realize it yet.

Jungkook leans back in his chair, a slow smirk forming.

“Weak signals happen sometimes, love. It’ll come back. Don’t worry.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling you onto the couch, wrapping you in his arms as the TV played in the background. What else could you do, really? Without a working connection, entertainment options were limited, and he had to pretend he was dealing with the same issue. TV was the perfect distraction. One that kept you close to him.

In a way, he liked this. No phones, no interruptions. Just the two of you, undisturbed. The thought alone made his heart flutter.

The next day, the situation hadn’t changed, and he knew frustration would start creeping in again. So he took you out. All day, keeping you occupied, keeping your mind off things. You didn’t resist. Why would you? There was nothing to do in the apartment without the internet, no one to talk to, nowhere else to turn.

A museum date. He half-expected you to get bored, but to his surprise, you didn’t. You wandered through the exhibits with wide, fascinated eyes, taking in every detail, pointing out the ones you liked best. Jungkook watched you more than the art. Watched the way your lips curved in a smile, the way your fingers traced the air as you spoke. You weren’t hard to please. Anything he laid out in front of you, you embraced, appreciated, accepted.

That was what made it so easy to love you.

And that was what made him tighten his grip.

Because something so easy, so pure, could be taken away in an instant.

He wouldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not ever. You were already his, and keeping you meant protecting you. Even if you didn’t realize it yet.

For the third, fourth, and fifth day, nothing changed. The signal jammer stayed on, and you stayed unaware. He kept you entertained when he was home, making sure there was always something to distract you. Movies, dinner, his arms wrapped around you on the couch. But when he wasn’t around, all you had was the TV.

That was fine. That was good.

Whenever he was out, he tracked your location. He never mentioned it, of course. He played dumb when you casually told him where you went, what you did to pass the time. It made things easier. It reassured him. You were still being good, still keeping him in the loop, still showing him without even realizing it that you loved him. That you weren’t going anywhere.

And that was all he needed.

Because as long as you kept being this obedient, this trusting, you wouldn’t even notice the strings wrapped around you, pulling you exactly where he wanted.

But of course, no matter how much control he had, some things still slipped through the cracks.

He thought he had everything covered. That as long as you stayed close, as long as you kept looking at him the way you always did, nothing would change.

But even the most perfect plans had flaws.

It was a cold Thursday evening when Jungkook stepped out of the shower, steam curling around him as droplets clung to his skin. A towel hung low on his waist, and the heat from the water still lingered on his body, contrasting the chill in the air. He had just returned from a long business meeting. Another deal closed, another win under his belt. You were in the kitchen, insisting on making dinner, and he let you.

As he pulled on his nightwear in the walk-in closet, he instinctively reached for his phone. But his fingers met empty space. His usual spot? Empty. Bedside table? Nothing. Maybe he left it outside? That was unlikely. His phone was always with him.

The frustration simmered. His brows furrowed as he searched every possible surface in the bedroom. It wasn’t there. His chest tightened. And then—

A ringtone.

Not from inside the room. From outside.

His breath caught. His phone wasn’t on silent. You were hearing it.

A sharp pulse of panic shot through him as he shoved the bedroom door open. The sound grew louder, the vibrations almost rattling in his ears, until he saw you.

Standing at the dining table.

Staring at his phone.

A cold sensation crawled up his spine, harsher than the evening air. His fingers twitched. His heart pounded, slamming against his ribs, too fast, too loud.

Without thinking, he strode forward and snatched the phone off the table, immediately declining the call. His grip was tight, white-knuckled. He could feel your eyes on him, could see the way your expression shifted, shock, realization, suspicion.

Then, you moved.

You pulled your phone from your pocket, swiped through the screen, and then your jaw clenched.

Slowly, you looked at him.

Brows furrowed.

And then, without a word, you turned your phone around and showed him the screen.

“How come you can get calls when I can’t even reach you?” Your voice had that sharp edge, like you were daring him to slip up.

Jungkook’s grip on his phone tightened for a second. Just a second before he let out a slow breath. One you wouldn’t even notice.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, meeting your gaze without hesitation. “I’ve had signal since yesterday.”

Your brows furrowed. “What? That doesn’t make sense. I don’t have network service. No internet, either.” You scrolled through your phone, frustration seeping into your voice.

“Maybe it’s your phone. Not the network.”

“Huh? How does that even—”

“I don’t know, love. I’m not a technician.” His tone was casual, a little too nonchalant, as he turned to walk away.

But you weren’t letting it go.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice was sharper now, accusing. “You knew I’ve been complaining about this for days!”

Jungkook exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening, but his voice was still even. “I didn’t notice right away. And I’ve been out, haven’t I? Besides—” He scoffed. “Do you even see me using my phone when I’m home?”

Your frustration boiled over. “Ugh, this is so annoying! What the hell?” You jabbed at your phone aggressively, like pressing harder would somehow force it to work. When it didn’t, you let out a groan, tossing it onto the table with a thud before running a hand through your hair.

Jungkook clenched his teeth, trying to suppress the irritation crawling up his spine. “Y/N, can you calm down? It’s just a phone. We’ll fix it.”

“You don’t get it!” You snapped.

Your voice cracked slightly, your chest rising and falling with every frustrated breath. “That’s my only way to keep in touch with my friends and family while I’m stuck here! It’s the only thing I have to pass the time! I have nothing to do, Jungkook. It’s draining! I feel exhausted just… existing like this!”

His stomach twisted.

Not because of what you said, but because of the way you said it. This was the first time he’d seen you this raw since your last big fight. It was like catching a glimpse of something real. Something he wasn’t supposed to see.

And honestly? He didn’t know how to feel about it.

His fingers curled, nails pressing into his palms, but his face remained unreadable.

“Okay,” he finally muttered. “We’ll get your phone fixed.”

That was all he said before turning on his heel, walking away, leaving you standing there, stunned.

The moment Jungkook stepped into the bedroom, he lost it.

His phone hit the bed with a dull thud, but it wasn’t enough. His hands went straight to his hair, fingers tangling in frustration as he paced back and forth, his mind spiraling.

Anytime now, you could put the pieces together.

Anytime now, you could realize everything.

No. No. No. That cannot fucking happen.

His jaw clenched so tightly it ached, teeth grinding as he tried to force himself to think. He needed a solution. Fast. But every scenario felt like a loose thread, something that could unravel the carefully built illusion he had created around you.

His breath came out sharp and ragged, his chest rising and falling as panic crawled up his spine. His hands curled into fists, nails pressing into his palms.

Calm down. Think.

Would replacing your phone be enough? Could he make it seem like it was just a defective device all along? Should he play dumb, act as if he had no clue what was going on?

Fuck. Think!

He’d always been careful. Always one step ahead. So why was he unraveling now?

Why did this feel different?

He sucked in a slow, shaky breath, trying to steady himself. He was just being paranoid. That’s all this was. He had handled worse. He had controlled worse.

This was just another obstacle.

And like always, he’d find a way to make sure you stayed exactly where you belonged.

But he was wrong.

Because the moment he woke up, you weren’t beside him.

It felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped over him, freezing him in place. His body tensed, fingers gripping the sheets as he blinked, trying to process the empty space next to him.

No. No, no, no.

He had stayed up late, trying to think of a way to fix things. He didn’t even realize he had slept in. And now, you were gone.

His hands were already shaking as he pushed himself out of bed, his heart pounding.

“Y/N?”

The bathroom, empty. The closet, empty. The longer he searched, the faster his panic grew.

He stormed out of the bedroom, checking every corner of the apartment, but you were nowhere to be found. His breathing turned ragged, his vision tunneling. His fingers fumbled as he reached for his phone, opening the tracking app.

There you were. Not far.

A mall.

Fuck.

His jaw clenched so hard it ached. He already knew what you were doing.

His mind raced, self-loathing creeping in. How the fuck did I let this happen? He had been so careful. He had planned everything so perfectly. And yet, somehow, you slipped away.

His grip tightened around his phone as he immediately dialed a number. The person he hired to watch you.

“Find her,” Jungkook ordered, his voice dangerously low. “Now. And tell me exactly what she’s doing.”

Ending the call, he exhaled sharply and let his body drop onto the couch, his knee bouncing as he tried to steady himself.

Calm down.

He had dealt with things like this before. He knew exactly what to do. You were easy to convince, easy to pull back into his world. You always had been.

There was no reason to panic.

Because no matter what, he wouldn’t let this ruin everything.

He had come too far, done too much. What was the point of stopping now?

Minutes later, his phone buzzed. An update.

You had bought a new phone.

Of course, you did. He expected it. He had already planned his reaction, the perfect lie to feed you. He knew how to twist things, how to shape reality into something that made sense to you.

He was ready.

This was just another obstacle, a minor inconvenience. Soon, everything would be back to normal.

Or at least, that was the illusion he forced himself to believe.

Because the moment you walked through that door, his world shattered.

All the confidence, all the carefully built lies, gone.

The second you speak the truth, everything he worked for started to crumble.

You stood in front of him, unmoving, while he lounged back against the couch, arms crossed over his chest. The apartment felt colder than usual, the lack of sunlight casting a dull, gray shadow over everything, including you.

You looked drained.

Dressed in a white knitted sweater under a long black coat, paired with jeans, you slowly unwrapped the scarf from your neck, gripping it tightly in one hand while your other held a paper bag.

He already knew what was inside.

The new phone.

Your eyes locked onto his, unblinking, unwavering. There was an intensity in them that made something deep inside him churn, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he was the first to break the silence.

“Was it really that hard to wake me up and let me know you were going out?” His voice was laced with sarcasm, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You just couldn’t wait to get your phone fixed, huh? Had to rush out and buy a new one?”

He scoffed, shaking his head.

You didn’t answer.

You just stood there, staring at him with eyes filled with something far worse than anger. Disgust. Your jaw clenched so tightly he swore he could hear your teeth grinding, and then he saw it.

A tear.

His smirk twitched, faltering for just a second.

“What’s with the face, love?” he drawled, tilting his head. “I thought you fixed your little problem?”

His voice dripped with mockery, but something inside him twisted, because he could feel it.

Your tears fell silently at first, but then you inhaled sharply, steadying yourself before speaking.

“My phone was jammed,” you said, voice shaking. “Both my phone and the internet connection were jammed.”

Jungkook felt a flicker of something. Surprise, irritation, but he masked it, tilting his head as if your words were nonsense.

“How would your phone be jammed?” His tone was casual, almost amused, like he was humoring you.

You let out a bitter laugh. “I don’t know. Ask yourself.”

The sharpness in your voice sent a ripple of irritation through him.

“How the fuck is my phone jammed while yours isn’t?” You took a step closer, eyes burning with fury. “Does that make any sense to you? Both my laptop and my phone had no signal the entire fucking week, while you were just fine.”

His jaw tightened.

That bastard. The man he hired had left out important details. He hadn’t reported that you had your phone checked.

Fucking useless.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He scoffed, forcing his voice into something more natural. “I didn’t have service either. You know that. We were both—”

“No!”

The single word sliced through the room, loud and unwavering. It caught him off guard.

“I checked your phone this morning,” you continued, voice shaking with restrained rage. “I checked your laptop, too. And both of them had WiFi.”

His fingers twitched. His mind raced.

“Then that’s not my problem anymore—”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

Your voice dropped to a whisper, slow and deliberate.

Jungkook felt a chill run down his spine.

“Or…” You took another step forward, your eyes locking onto his like you were staring into something dark and rotten. “Is this just what you wanted me to believe?”

Jungkook didn’t say a word at first. He just watched you, his gaze unwavering, calculating.

He couldn’t afford to make a mistake now.

“I can’t believe you’re blaming me for this.” His voice was measured, carefully laced with disbelief, like he was hurt. “Why would I even do that?”

Then, quieter, like he was nursing a wound only he could feel. “Why do you always blame me when things go wrong for you? Even when it’s your own fault?”

You scoffed, tilting your chin up defiantly. “And how exactly is it my fault that my phone was jammed? That’s not something I could have done to myself, intentionally or unintentionally!”

“No, Y/N.” His voice hardened. “I’m not just talking about the jammer. I’m talking about everything, all the accusations, all the times you’ve turned on me, made me the villain in your little stories.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why are you even bringing all that up? We’re talking about the jammer—”

“Because that’s the problem!” His voice rose suddenly, sharp and unwavering. “You always blame me. The moment something inconvenient happens, it’s Jungkook’s fault. Like it’s second nature to you.”

He took a step forward, but you stood your ground. Your eyes locked onto his, unflinching, before you exhaled and turned to leave.

Panic flashed in his chest.

No.

In an instant, he was behind you, gripping your wrist, firm, but not enough to bruise. 

“Are you seriously walking away right now?” His voice was dangerously low, breath uneven. “We’re still talking.”

You yanked your hand free without hesitation. “There’s nothing left to say. This isn’t going anywhere.”

Jungkook clenched his jaw so hard it hurt.

His fingers twitched at his sides, the rage bubbling beneath his skin.

“What?” His voice was strained, barely holding back his temper. “You accuse me of this bullshit, throw it in my face, and then just walk away?”

You took another step toward the door of the bedroom, but this time, you hesitated. Then, slowly, you turned back to face him.

Your expression was unreadable. Empty.

“Yes,” you said, voice hollow. “Because you’ll never admit it. You’ll just twist everything, turn it all around, like you always do.”

Jungkook felt his stomach twist at the way you were looking at him. It was like you were seeing him now, really seeing him.

And then, without another word, you turned your back on him and walked away.

For the first time in a long time, Jungkook didn’t know what to do.

Jungkook felt like his mind was slipping. Too many thoughts, too many emotions crashing over him at once. He couldn’t process what just happened. He needed clarity, needed to understand you. Because suddenly, he couldn't read you anymore.

He hated that.

He stormed into the bedroom without hesitation.

“Why are you doing this to me, huh?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the tense air the moment he stepped inside. “Is this your way of getting back at me? Because I didn’t let you go home when that’s all you’ve been crying about for months? Is that it, Y/N?”

You turned to face him, brows furrowing. “What are you talking about? I never said that!”

“Oh, so you don’t say it, but you show it instead?” His heartbeat pounded against his ribs, his breathing growing heavier. “You think I like watching you change? Seeing you drift further away when all I wanted was for you to wait? You think I enjoy having you next to me when I can tell your mind is somewhere else? That you’re just enduring being with me?” The words poured out of him, unfiltered, his voice trembling with something raw.

“I’m not pulling any act, Jungkook. That’s all in your head.” Your tone was flat, detached.

That only set him off more.

“Oh, fuck it, Y/N! Just tell me the truth—”

“No, you tell me the truth!” You cut him off, voice ringing through the room. “Tell me why you jammed my phone! Tell me why you’re tracking me!”

Jungkook froze. His breath caught in his throat.

His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing, but he said nothing.

You took a step closer, pointing at him with a shaking finger. “You think I didn’t know? There’s a tracking chip inside my phone. And what? You’re going to sit there and twist it around again? Pretend it’s my fault that a tracker magically ended up in my phone? Just like how you jammed my signal?”

Your voice was sharp, relentless.

Jungkook didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

He just stood there, staring at you. Eyes dark, jaw clenched, mind racing.

Jungkook watched you with hollow eyes, his mind spiraling as your words cut through him like a blade.

Enough.

You’d had enough of him.

He should’ve seen this coming. The way you looked at him differently, the way you hesitated before answering, the way you started pulling away, piece by piece. But knowing didn’t make it any easier to hear.

“I ignored all the red flags,” you said, voice shaking, tears slipping down your cheeks, but you didn’t wipe them away. “I kept telling myself you were doing it because you loved me. I swallowed every truth right in front of me, thinking it was for my sake. But everyone was right.”

Your lips quivered as you exhaled shakily.

“You’ve been manipulating me. You’ve been making me blind to everything you’ve done.”

Jungkook’s fingers curled into his palms, his nails digging into his skin.

His jaw clenched. His breathing slowed.

“And you know what?” You let out a bitter laugh, eyes glassy. “You are right. This is my fault. Because I let you do it. I let all of this happen.” Your voice cracked, but you kept going, pushing the knife in deeper. “I loved you. I fell so fucking deep that I couldn’t even pull myself back up.”

That’s when he noticed—

You were packing.

You weren’t just throwing words at him, trying to wound him.

You were leaving.

You grabbed your phone, your wallet, a small pouch, only the essentials. Because you weren’t planning to come back.

The thought made his vision blur with rage.

Something inside him snapped.

His breathing turned eerily calm. The thick mask he had been wearing, the patient, loving, understanding Jungkook you thought you knew, shattered in an instant.

"You think you can just leave like that?"

His voice was soft, almost tender. But it sent ice down your spine.

You froze, fingers gripping your bag. When your gaze met his, your whole body tensed.

He took a slow step forward. Then another. But he stopped midway, slipping his hands into his pockets like he had all the time in the world.

"After everything I’ve done for us—" his lips curled into something twisted, "you think I’m going to let you walk away that easily?"

He let out a quiet chuckle. Low. Cold.

Your breath hitched.

And then he saw it—

The way your eyes darted to the door. The way you shifted ever so slightly, like you were ready to bolt.

He tilted his head, gaze darkening.

"Why are you stepping back?" His voice dropped even lower. "Are you scared?"

You didn’t answer.

His smirk widened, his steps slow and deliberate as he closed in on you.

He backed you into the wall, trapping you in place.

"Because you should be."

Jungkook's grip on reality was slipping, but he didn’t care.

He loved you.

Loved you so much that if keeping you meant becoming the villain in your story, then so be it. If he had to be the bad guy to make you stay, he’d do it without hesitation.

His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

“Is this what your friends planted in your head?” His voice was calm, too calm. Each word rolled off his tongue deliberately, like he was savoring them. “They’ll say anything, won’t they? Whisper the nastiest things to break us apart because they don’t understand. They don’t matter in this relationship.”

He took a slow step backward.

"That’s why I didn’t want you around them in the first place.” His tone was gentle, almost affectionate, but the weight of his words was suffocating. “The more time you spend with them, the more they poison your thoughts. Filling that pretty little head of yours with lies.”

Jungkook sighed, shaking his head like he was disappointed.

“But you just had to be stubborn. Kept pushing my buttons. And now look where we are.”

His gaze flickered down to your parted lips, to the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed hard. He move closer to you once again and leaned in just enough to catch the way your pupils dilated.

His smirk widened.

“So yes,” he whispered, voice dripping with satisfaction. “This is your fault.”

You flinched.

He saw the way your body trembled, the way your fingers curled into your palms like you were trying to steady yourself. But what made him really grin, what sent a shiver of satisfaction down his spine, was the quick, fleeting glance you threw at the door.

You were considering running.

How cute.

A quiet chuckle left his lips as he watched you inch back, your breathing shallow, your mind scrambling for an escape.

Too bad.

You weren’t going anywhere.

Jungkook tilted his head, watching you with something between amusement and disbelief.

“I can’t believe you’re still thinking of leaving when you have nowhere else to go.” His voice was light, almost teasing, as if the idea of you escaping was a joke.

Then, without warning, he ripped the phone from your hand and tossed it across the room. The sharp crack echoed as it shattered against the floor.

Your breath hitched. “Jungkook, please. You’re scaring me.”

But he wasn’t listening.

He grabbed your laptop from the coffee table, eyes dark with something unhinged, and in one swift motion, hurled it against the wall. The device split in two on impact.

You screamed.

Your breath hitched as you stared at the shattered remnants of your phone and laptop. The metallic clatter of destruction echoed in the room, but it was the eerie silence that followed that made your blood run cold. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The only sound was the erratic pounding of your heart.

Jungkook exhaled slowly, his eyes locked onto yours with a satisfaction that made your stomach twist. 

It was done.

There was no turning back now.

His fingers twitched at his sides before he took a step forward, closing the distance between you two. You flinched, instinctively stepping back until your legs hit the edge of the bed.

“You don’t need them anymore,” Jungkook murmured, voice dangerously soft. “I’m all you need.”

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. “Y-you… you didn’t have to do that.”

He tilted his head, watching you, drinking in your helplessness like it was a drug. “I did,” he said simply as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Now, there’s nothing left to come between us.”

You wanted to scream, to fight, but the weight of his words pressed down on you like an immovable force. There was no way out. No reaching for help. He had stripped you of everything, piece by piece until all that remained was him.

Jungkook reached out, his fingers grazing your cheek, a mockery of affection in the way he cradled your face. “You’re mine,” he whispered, the words sinking deep into your skin, your bones. His grip tightened just enough to make your breath hitch. “Say it.”

You trembled, lips parting, but no words came. A flicker of something dark passed through his eyes before he crushed his mouth against yours.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was raw and possessive, his lips crashing against yours with bruising force. You struggled, hands pushing against his chest, but he was stronger.

“J-Jungkook, no—”

“You’re mine, Y/N.” His breath was hot against your lips, his grip unrelenting. “You’re fucking mine, and no one will ever have you but me.”

His mouth trailed down to your neck, teeth grazing over your skin before he sucked harshly, marking you like a brand.

You fought. You squirmed. But he didn’t care.

Because in that moment, the last of his carefully crafted mask shattered.

This was him. The real him.

And now, you finally saw it.

You had seen glimpses before, but you ignored them, forced yourself to believe they were nothing. That he was nothing more than a man who loved too much.

You were wrong.

You had unknowingly created a monster. A monster that could no longer be controlled.

And now, it was too late.

Because every path that once led to freedom was gone, every exit sealed shut.

And you were trapped.

Trapped in the darkness with him.

As he pulled away, he wiped a stray tear from your face, his smile almost gentle. “That’s my good girl.”

The finality in his voice made your stomach drop. There was no escaping him.

Not now. Not ever.

-end-

I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoy writing it! This was supposed to be a one-shot, but when I started writing, it turned into a two-shot lmao. And just when I was about to finish it, I thought about making it a three-shot, but then I realized it wasn't really necessary hahaha

If you have any comments or suggestions to help improve my writing, please don't hesitate to let me know. Thank you!

taglist: @llallaaa @strawberryberrygirl @taekritimin123 @minimoninini @lachimolalajeon @jincapableoflove @jenniebyrubies @sunshineishopejihyo @kooayu

[taeyongdoyoung]

beg for you

summary: missing your ex, you stumble upon an interesting song that brings back memories you thought you could bottle up... pairing: vernon x reader genre: angst, smut, exes to online friends to lovers warnings: mentions of past break-up, reader felt neglected and lonely, insecurities, lowkey catfishing+lie by omission, swearing, song-writing themes, some serious talks, hand-holding, kissing, spitting, eating out, fingering, dom!vernon, orgasm denial, public unprotected sex (in a café bathroom), mainly lots of emotions, idk author's note: the fic was inspired by this iconic song, in particular vernon's verse and it has some occasional references to the lyrics in bold word count: 2.6k

It's been three months since you ended things with Vernon, blocked his number and all his socials and tried your best to forget about him. The reason for your break-up was mainly because you felt like he never had time for you, his music always came first and while that was appealing at the start of your relationship, it began to infuriate you and make you feel invisible towards its end. He would stand you up and forget about your dates more than once. He would make you feel like you were always his second choice. Not being around him hurts like hell, because you'd become so used to his presence that the lack of it brings so much emptiness. And also because a part of you still loves him.

One evening, you can't fall asleep so you're scrolling through some music apps. Suddenly you discover a new song. The artist hides their face behind a mask but their voice sounds somewhat familiar. Strangely enough, the lyrics just speak to you:

I don't think I'll ever feel this type of way again (This way again; Yеah, uh, yeah) I beg for you, please (Don't let go), don't let go of me, don't let go of me All the endless conversations about us been going on in our head In the night, we dream a future together and I feel bad in your bed I beg for you, please stay, I can't go a day without No, I can't go a day without you, hoo

So weird. It's like the artist knows exactly what's been on your mind for the past three months. You shut your phone off with a sigh and attempt to get some sleep. The next day, that same melody and those words haunt you. And the following day…It goes on for a while and you've become so obsessed with it that you try to do some research on the artist. Unfortunately, it's not of much help. Nobody knows the identity of the artist, how they look or their real name. It's frustrating but it is what it is. Maybe you should drop it. But then again…you really can't stop thinking about these fucking lyrics and how well they described how you've been feeling.

You decide to do something stupid and slide into the DMs of the anonymous artist. They'll probably never see this message as they have thousands of followers, but still, you need to get this off your chest somehow.

You: Hi, you probably get this a lot but your lyrics are really relatable, like they truly spoke to me and totally represent the way I've been feeling for the past three months. You're incredibly talented and I'd be happy to hear more of your music in the future.

It's a short message, nothing too crazy. You feel a sense of relief once you've sent it. You realize it doesn't matter if the artist ever sees it. You're just happy you were able to express your feelings.

To your immense shock, about 30 minutes later, you receive a notification. This is actually so insane you can't believe your eyes. The anonymous artist…texted you back?!

RevN98: Hi, this really means a lot to me. Actually, I don't get a lot of feedback, as I'm just starting out. I'll try my best to write more music. In what ways did you relate to the lyrics?

Is he seriously…initiating a discussion? It is wild enough he texted you back but the fact he wants to continue texting baffles you. But you are not one to look at a gift horse in the mouth. So, you respond rightaway.

You: I got out of a long-term relationship a couple of months ago and even though I should probably move on already, some part of me wishes my ex begged for me to stay. I know it's probably a selfish thought, considering I'm the one who broke up with the guy, but…I miss him sometimes and I keep thinking of a universe in which he'd fought for me.

After sending that message, you look at it in horror as you realize how personal it was. Why is it so easy to open up to a complete stranger? And not to people who actually know you…

You: Sorry, that was probably a whole bunch of TMI. Anyways, I really thought your lyrics were connected to how I was feeling if that makes sense.

You double text just in case. The response from the mysterious artist comes soon after.

RevN98: It makes sense, yeah. When I was writing them, I was also thinking about my past relationship. Honestly, I kind of wish I'd begged my ex to stay. I thought that by not doing so, I was respecting her wishes and giving her space. But now that it's been a while, I can't help but think I should have expressed myself better. I really miss her, though, so I guess that got reflected in the lyrics somehow.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts and figure out what to text.

You: Aw, man. Whoever your ex is, she's lucky to have such lyrics written about her. Even if it's over, maybe there's a way she finds your music and…I don't know, reconsiders things?

RevN98: Hah, that'd be a dream come true. I don't think she likes the kind of music I make.

You: Why not? Your music is great!

RevN98: Well, the truth is I was spending more time on my music than time with her. So, I guess that's one of the reasons for our break-up.

My God. This feels…too similar to your situation it gives you goosebumps. Despite that, it's like your fingers are possessed as they keep itching to text the anonymous artist back.

You: Time changes the way people feel. Maybe if you're honest with her and how you're feeling, there's a chance for a reconciliation. Or at least some closer. You should call her!

RevN98: I'd love that but she's blocked my number.

You: Use a friend's phone, duh!

RevN98: That'd be suspicious, considering I haven't told any of my friends about our break-up.

You: Dang…you're really not over this girl, huh?

RevN98: Not a chance.

You: So…what are you going to do?

RevN98: I don't know, for the time being texting you helps to ease the pain.

You: Likewise. But just to give you a heads-up, I'm not interested in any rebound relationship.

RevN98: Great. I'm not interested in that, either.

You: So…online buddies, then?

RevN98: Sounds good to me.

It is so strange how quickly the mysterious artist becomes part of your everyday life. You text each other quite often about anything. From what you've had for breakfast to what other music you've been listening to. From where you're planning to go with your friends to…how much you miss your exes. It is truly extraordinarily easy to talk to them. You still don't know much. How they look, what their real name is, where they live…But somehow it's enough knowing they're out there making awesome and relatable music.

Until one day it isn't.

You: We should meet up!

RevN98: I don't think that is a good idea…My schedule's crazy lately.

You: What do you mean? It's not like you have live performances.

You point out the obvious because from what you've gathered, maintaining this anonymity is key to RevN98.

RevN98: I just don't feel comfortable meeting in person…

You: Are you worried I'd expose your identity? You know I'm not that kind of person, right?

RevN98: I'm not worried about that. It's hard to explain. It would make sense if we met up, which is exactly why we can't meet up.

You: I'm super confused right now. But you know how important honesty is to me. So, it's now or never, I guess. If you don't want to meet up in the near future, I don't think I want to continue being friends…

You wait a couple of minutes, to give them a chance to make a decision. Finally, the response comes.

RevN98: Okay, let's meet up.

They text you a time and place. And then you ask the crucial question.

You: How will I know it's you?

RevN98: Trust me, you'll know.

This is…so cryptic. You guess you'll just have to rely on the fact that there are a bunch of photos of you on your profile, so the musician would be able to recognize you first.

When you arrive at the small café, you look around nervously, waiting. Negative thoughts keep haunting your mind. What if they change their mind in the last minute and stand you up? What if they are disappointed upon meeting you and never want to text you again? What if you were too harsh by giving an ultimatum? What if-

So many scenarios and you failed to consider the one that truly matters.

What if…you run into your ex at said café? What are the fucking odds?!

"What are you doing here?" you ask Vernon, sounding a bit too rude. Better to be rude than to burst into tears or something more embarrassing.

"Waiting for you," Vernon replies simply.

"What are you talking about?" you blink in confusion. Until it clicks…No. Freaking. Way.

Vernon sighs and takes his phone out, showing you the texts between you and RevN98. And the only explanation is…fucking hell. He is RevN98.

"Please, tell me you're joking right now."

"I wish I was," Vernon looks down, feeling guilty.

"How could you do this to me?" you inquire, eyes welling up already. You feel so weak upon seeing him.

"What was I supposed to do? You had me blocked on everything."

"What, and writing me a song under a false name sounded like the greatest idea?" you snap at him.

"I just needed to talk to you again. Somehow."

"Why? What is there to say?"

"I miss you," Vernon murmurs.

"You lied to me," you insist stubbornly.

"Please come back to me," he keeps trying.

"It's too late…" you try to reject him gently.

"I'm begging you," Vernon really wants a second chance.

You shake your head, but your hands are already reaching for his. Desperate to hold them one more time, you lean closer.

"I'm not taking you back," you keep fighting it.

"Okay," he nods.

"We're just…gonna talk, yeah? Seems a waste of my great outfit to go back home."

"Okay," Vernon repeatss.

As the two of you sit down to have a chat, suddenly all of the unsaid words and undelivered messages bubble up to the surface.

"I should have fought for you. I mean it. Music is important to me but not as much as you. You are my muse, how could I go another day without you?"

"It seems you've been doing a great job writing music without me," you say bitterly.

"Oh, yeah?" Vernon raises his eyebrows cockily. "Well, I bet I can write even better if you're back in my life."

"I was too harsh," you admit. "I let my overthinking and insecurities get the worst of me. When I broke up with you, it seems I had forgotten how much I love music, too. I was so caught up in my own dark thoughts that I didn't matter to you that things escalated."

"You had a point," Vernon chuckles sadly. "I wasn't giving you the attention you needed. The attention you deserve. I was being selfish."

"I was selfish, too," you confess. "I shouldn't have made you feel like you needed to make a choice between me and music."

"I would pick you. For the record."

"Record is exactly what you'll be making," you tease him. "I'm serious. I need to hear more of what you've been working on."

"I'd love to show you. But there's something else I'd like to do first," Vernon smirks mischievously.

He grabs your hand and takes you to the café's bathroom. He pushes you inside a free booth and locks the door behind him. He kisses you under the bathroom lights eagerly, not wanting to let go ever again.

"Hey!" you chide him playfully. "I said I wasn't taking you back."

"Too bad. 'Cause I'm taking you," Vernon says assertively.

"You…you've changed," you blink in surprise.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Vernon smiles and his palms dig into your lower back deliciously, as he kisses you again. "God, I missed this taste."

"You're insane," you laugh but you can't find it in you to deny it any longer. You want him so bad.

"Don't let go of me," he repeats the song's lyrics in your ear.

"I won't. As long as you promise the same," you ask.

Vernon doesn't say a word as he kneels in front of you. He picks up one of your legs and swings it over his shoulder as pulls your panties to the side. Suddenly, you're so grateful for your genius decision to wear a dress. He spits on your pussy and attacks your folds with his skilled tongue. You're already losing your mind over how good it feels, when suddenly, he pulls back.

You gasp in disappointment as your pleasure was so abruptly interrupted.

"Beg me," Vernon commands you easily. "Beg me to make you come."

"You're fucking insane," you refuse. You've always had a little bit of a brat in you.

Vernon, however, doesn't seem perturbed by your refusal to cooperate and sticks one finger inside you, teasing you slow enough to frustrate you but not fast enough to get you there. It hurts so sweetly you both hate and love it.

"Beg me," he repeats.

It would be so easy to do that. Just to get that sweet release…But the stubborn part of you is still stronger than the part of you that wants to come.

''Try harder," you grin cruelly.

Vernon is not one to back down from a challenge and unleashes his final weapon. He takes off his jeans and slides his hard cock inside you. Fuck. You'd forgotten how girthy he is.

"I missed you so much," he whispers in your ear. And his genuine words affect you more than his actions. And oh, how terribly you've missed him, too.

You hold on to the back of his neck, needing him for support. He keeps tormenting you, not moving a lot, just making you feel so full but so dissatisfied at the same time. You truly can't take it anymore.

"P-please, let me c-come," you beg for him hopelessly.

"There's my good girl," Vernon smiles proudly and adjusts his movements, adding pressure with his fingers so that you come in mere seconds.

"T-thank you, thank you," you chant, not knowing what demon possessed you to act this way.

"So polite," he laughs adorably and holds you close as he reaches his own high.

You don't want to let go of him ever again. But you're gonna have to, because you hear angry people who want to use the bathroom. Uh-oh.

You quickly try to clean each other up and rush outside, cheeks red with embarrassment.

You get a few weird looks from random people, but honestly, it doesn't matter. This felt too good.

"Sooo…" Vernon says once you've arrived at his chill but cozy apartment. "Does this mean you'll take me back?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Beg me nicely?" you suggest teasingly.

"Oh, you know I will," Vernon promises.

Bonus:

"Veeern, it's been hours, didn't you finish the song already?" you complain, desperate for his attention.

"Just five-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," you warn him, though you don't really mean it. You're just playing around. You know he cares about you deeply. Perhaps more deeply that he lets on.

"Won't you wait another hour or two?" Vernon teases you back.

"You know what? I'd wait as long as it takes," you smile and put your lips on his lips.

The End

[edenesth]

5 Steps to Losing to You

Pairing: student council president!Yunho x vice president!fem!reader

AU: high school au (enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: The student council president of KQ High had five simple steps to surviving his vice president: outshine you, outsmart you, outlast you, annoy you, and — definitely — never fall for you. Too bad every step brought him closer to late-night arguments, unexpected truths, and one unforgettable confession under the fireworks. Somewhere between enemies and uneasy allies, Yunho took five steps too far — and ended up losing (his heart) to you.

Genre: romance (duh), comedy

A/N: Thank you, @itstheghostofmypast, for giving me the urge to write another high school AU. This one's heavily inspired by one of my favourite animes of all time, Kaguya-sama: Love Is War.

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Do you ever meet someone for the very first time, and somehow, without a single word exchanged, you just know — from the very core of your being — that you can't stand them? No logical reason. No past history. Just pure, gut-level irritation.

That was exactly how Jung Yunho felt the second you stepped into the student council room, your posture straight, your expression unreadable, exuding the kind of effortless confidence that set his teeth on edge.

You were the new transfer student — the one the teachers haven't been able to stop raving about, the one who somehow landed the coveted vice president title before even learning the school layout. And now, here you were, standing beside him, the council's golden boy, as if you belonged there.

"Dude, that's her? Oh, they weren't lying when they said she'd be eye candy," Wooyoung, the council treasurer, whispered with a smirk, elbowing Yunho's side. Yunho didn't even glance at you. He just scoffed, nudging Wooyoung back hard enough to make him stumble. "Yeah? Well, too bad a pretty face isn't enough to survive my council. I give her two weeks before she runs back to wherever she came from."

He said it loud enough for you to hear — on purpose — just to see if you'd flinch. But you didn't. You only lifted your chin slightly, eyes flicking toward him for a single, scathing second. And in that moment, you hated him just as much as he hated you.

Because from the moment you locked eyes, you knew exactly who he was — the adored, untouchable president who had everyone wrapped around his finger. The boy who carried himself like the school was his kingdom, and every student his subject. And now you were supposed to serve under him?

Absolutely not.

You hadn't transferred here to play second to anyone — least of all some arrogant, overhyped, self-proclaimed king. Back at your old school, you were always at the top: top grades, top leadership positions, top of every ranking that mattered. You weren't just a vice president — you were a future president in the making.

If Yunho thought you were here to play a supporting role in his perfect little reign, he was dead wrong.

You weren't here to make friends.

You were here to take his crown.

────

Yunho leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he watched you skim through the thick binder of council documents that Seulgi, the council secretary, had just handed over. His eyes narrowed slightly, studying you like you were some kind of unwelcome intruder trespassing on his territory.

"Hope you're not too overwhelmed," Yunho said, voice dripping with fake concern. "Student council here isn't exactly… beginner-friendly."

You didn't bother looking up, flipping another page instead. "Don't worry, President," you replied, tone sweet but sharp. "I've dealt with more organised councils before. This is nothing I can't fix."

The room went still for half a second — just enough for Seulgi to glance between you both like she was watching a fuse being lit.

Yunho's smile sharpened. "Fix? That's a bold word for someone who hasn't even seen our term plan yet."

You finally met his gaze, leaning forward just slightly over the table. "Oh, I've seen it. Last year's records were so charming, especially the part where half the events went over budget and the spring festival had a typo on the banner. Spring Festivel, was it?"

The muscle in his jaw twitched, but his grin didn't falter. "Funny. You talk big for someone who just transferred here. But I get it — new girl syndrome. All ambition, no clue how things actually work."

You rested your chin in your hand, elbow propped on the table. "And you talk big for someone who's clearly too comfortable sitting on his throne. Guess we'll see who adjusts faster — me to this school, or you to having actual competition."

The president's smile froze in place. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was being challenged — especially not by someone who hadn't even been here a full week.

Seulgi cleared her throat awkwardly. "So! Uh, why don't we go over this semester's goals together? You know… as a team?"

You and Yunho didn't break eye contact. Neither of you smiled.

"Can't wait," you said.

"Neither can I," he replied.

And like that, the war had officially begun.

────

To the outside world — to teachers, students, and anyone not trapped in this cursed room — Yunho and you were the dream team, the picture-perfect president and vice president duo. Smiling side by side during assemblies, coordinating in perfect sync during meetings, and even exchanging polite nods in the hallway.

But inside these four walls, away from the prying eyes of your adoring audience, it was an entirely different story.

It started small. The first time Yunho reached for the meeting agenda, it was mysteriously missing from his file. "Alright, let's get started with today's agenda—" he paused, flipping through his folder, only to find the neatly printed schedule gone. His eyes snapped up, narrowing instantly at you.

You sat across from him, filing your nails with deliberate slowness, not even trying to hide your smug smile when he had to wing the entire meeting from memory. "Looking for something, President?" you asked sweetly.

Wooyoung watched the exchange from the corner, whispering to Seulgi, "That's the second time this week. If this keeps up, he's gonna staple the agenda to his forehead."

The secretary sighed, already immune to the madness. "At least they're creative."

Then there was the presentation. Monthly council update in front of all the teachers, a perfect opportunity for the president to shine — until Yunho confidently clicked to the next slide… and instead of student council statistics, the screen flashed an embarrassingly tragic childhood photo of him mid-sneeze, teeth crooked, hair tragic.

Gasps filled the room. His eye twitched. From beside him, you covered your mouth, the picture of shocked concern, while under the table, your finger rested innocently on the laptop's trackpad.

"Oops," you whispered sweetly.

"You're dead," Yunho mouthed back.

The teachers would later praise your teamwork for handling the "technical difficulty" so gracefully.

The coffee war escalated next. Yunho, ever the gentleman, brought you coffee before morning meetings — extra bitter because he knew you hated it with a passion. You retaliated the next day, handing him a cup that smelled amazing but was actually salted beyond salvation.

Wooyoung took a cautious sip from his own drink, eyeing both of you. "This is why I only drink from the vending machine now."

"Smart," Seulgi muttered.

When it came time to make festival posters, the battle turned artistic. The school festival posters were a joint project — one half handled by you, the other by the president. What should have been a cohesive design turned into visual warfare.

Yunho's side was classic and professional, clean fonts and crisp colours. Your side? Bold, flashy, practically neon — and just slightly crooked, making his side look off-balance.

"It's like watching a couple divorce through graphic design," Wooyoung whispered.

"Except they were never married," Seulgi muttered. "Thank god."

The final straw — at least for that week — came during the morning announcements, when the president confidently read out the list of upcoming events — only to realise someone had swapped his script. Instead of the council's official calendar, he was now announcing a fake bake sale where Yunho himself would supposedly be dressing as a bunny mascot to promote sales.

His death glare found you through the broadcast window. You waved back cheerfully.

The students roared with excitement. "Bunnyho!" they chanted.

Seulgi buried her face in her hands. Wooyoung filmed everything.

And yet, the moment those council doors swung open, you both snapped back into your roles like pros. Smiling in sync at the cameras, cutting ribbons together with practised grace, even finishing each other's sentences when teachers asked about the upcoming festival. It was a performance so convincing that even Wooyoung — who knew the truth — found himself applauding.

"It's terrifying," the treasurer started, watching the two of you gracefully cut the ribbon at a new club opening ceremony. "They look like they actually… get along," he whispered, equal parts horrified and impressed.

"Tell me about it. They're scarily good at this," Seulgi agreed, clapping along with the crowd. "It's like they're starring in a romcom where only they missed the memo."

If only they knew.

If only the rest of the school knew.

If only anyone knew that beneath all the staged smiles and synchronised speeches, it would only take five steps for the mighty president and his infuriating vice president to lose — not to each other, but to something neither of them ever saw coming.

────

Step One: seeing each other.

It started like any other day in the student council room — a battleground polished to perfection.

You arrived first, flipping open your notebook, already plotting your next move. Yunho followed shortly after, shooting you a glare so subtle no one else would notice, but you caught it. You always did. The latest round in your ongoing war had been yours — you'd managed to replace his entire project folder with a stack of fake documents detailing a made-up proposal for a "Student Council Talent Show," featuring him as both host and performer. He'd spent an hour in front of the principal before realising the whole thing was a setup. You were winning.

So when Yunho swept into the room, you were already bracing for his retaliation. And sure enough, it came — a stack of freshly printed minutes from the last meeting placed squarely in front of you. Except every instance of your name had been replaced with "Her Royal Highness, The Vice President of Perfection".

You stared at it. He smiled, all teeth and zero remorse.

"Thanks for the edit," you said coolly.

"Anything for my vice president," he shot back.

But that wasn't the real blow. The real sabotage came during the club funding review later that afternoon. It was your turn to present the approved budgets for each club, a dry, boring task — until Yunho, in a voice far too innocent, asked, "By the way, Your Highness — didn't your old school have a fencing club? You were captain, right?"

You froze for half a second. It was microscopic — no one noticed. Except for Yunho. Of course, he noticed.

"Yeah," you said, flicking through the papers like the question meant nothing. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing. Just wondering why you transferred out so suddenly. From what I hear, you were practically royalty back there, too."

You knew what he was doing. Fishing. Trying to unearth whatever dirt might be hiding under your perfect exterior. You forced a smile. "It was boring," you lied. "Needed a challenge."

He hummed, unconvinced.

Later that evening, you found your chance to return the favour. You'd overheard a conversation between Wooyoung and Seulgi, something about Yunho always leaving in a rush after school, barely staying long enough to clean up. So you set a trap — a simple one. You "accidentally" scheduled a last-minute meeting that ran late, forcing him to stay behind.

You expected him to blow up at you afterwards. You were ready for it. What you didn't expect was to follow the tall and lanky boy out — purely out of curiosity — only to watch him walk straight to the convenience store down the street, throw on a part-time apron, and start restocking shelves.

You stood outside, stunned, watching the golden boy student council president clock into a job like any regular kid. Except he wasn't just any regular kid, was he?

For the first time, you saw him without the shine — no polished uniform, no cocky smirk, no sharp words ready to fire at you. Just a boy with his sleeves pushed up, quietly stacking instant noodles, stopping every so often to check his phone like he was waiting for a message.

And when his phone finally buzzed, you saw him smile — small, tired, real.

You didn't mean to see the text, but you did.

Mum: Yunho-yah, don't forget to bring home eggs if they're on sale.

You stepped back before he could notice you watching, heart thudding with something you couldn't quite name.

That was the first crack.

The next day, Yunho found a neatly folded discount coupon for eggs tucked into his student council folder. No signature. No note. Just a coupon.

He stared at it for a long time.

For once, neither of you said anything.

But it didn't end there.

Later that week, Yunho caught sight of you outside the school gates, long after the council room had emptied. He hadn't meant to linger — in fact, he had every intention of ignoring you like usual — but something about the way you stood there caught his attention.

You weren't scrolling through your phone or chatting with anyone. You just stood there, posture straight, hands clutching your bag like it was the only thing keeping you upright. A sleek black car pulled up, polished until the surface gleamed, and a middle-aged man in a pressed suit stepped out to open the door for you.

He scoffed quietly to himself. Of course.

Princess treatment. Figures.

But as you slid into the back seat, something about the way you moved made him pause. Stiff. Formal. Like you were stepping into a stranger's car, not your own. He caught a glimpse of your face through the tinted window before it rolled up — your gaze fixed straight ahead, unfocused, mouth pressed into a thin line. You looked... distant. Detached.

Not proud. Not smug.

Not like someone who had it all.

Just... tired.

Yunho frowned, stuffing his hands into his pockets, muttering under his breath, "Must be nice to have everything handed to you... so why do you look like you've got nothing?"

He didn't have an answer. And that unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.

That night, he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the memory of your empty eyes lingering longer than they should.

Neither of you knew it yet — but the game was already changing.

────

Step Two: the unexpected rescue.

The rain came down hard — the kind of storm that soaked you to the bone in seconds, drumming against the pavement with no mercy. You stood just outside the school gates, shoulders hunched slightly under the awning, arms crossed tight as your phone buzzed non-stop in your hand.

Driver (5 missed calls)

Driver: Stuck in traffic. 15 minutes.

Driver: 20 minutes.

Driver: Sorry, Miss. It's a mess out here.

You exhaled sharply through your nose, locking your screen before shoving the phone into your pocket. This was typical — your family's staff was always prompt when it came to your father, but for you? Delays. Excuses. You were used to it. Didn't make it any less irritating.

The rain intensified, and you took a careful step back, just barely avoiding a splash from a passing car. That's when you saw him — Yunho, already halfway down the sidewalk, hood pulled up, backpack slung over one shoulder.

He could have kept walking. You expected him to. Hell, you would've preferred it.

But he stopped.

He stood there for a second, back still facing you, before you saw his shoulders rise and fall in what looked suspiciously like deep, begrudging contemplation. Then, without a word, he turned back, marched toward you, and thrust his umbrella out with one hand.

"Don't make it weird," he muttered, hood shadowing half his face. "I'm not leaving my vice president to drown. People would talk."

You stared at him, dumbfounded, before slowly stepping under the umbrella's cover. Your shoulder brushed his — just barely — but it was enough to make the air between you heavier than the rain itself.

"You're still an arrogant ass," you said, mostly out of habit.

"And you're still annoying," he shot back.

But neither of you moved away.

The walk to the nearby bus stop was silent, save for the rain pattering against the umbrella's canopy and your synchronised footsteps on the wet pavement. The silence should have been awkward — it always was between the two of you — but this time, it felt... almost easy.

At the stop, he held the umbrella steady over both your heads until the bus pulled up, wiping rainwater off his forehead with his sleeve.

"Don't think this means I like you," he said, voice quieter than usual.

You snorted, climbing up the bus steps. "Please. I'd be more worried if you did."

But when you found your seat by the window, you caught a glimpse of him outside — standing there in the rain, umbrella still in hand, watching the bus pull away. Neither of you knew why this moment stuck so firmly in your minds. You just knew something had shifted.

The next morning, you were absent.

Yunho should've been pleased. A day without your sharp tongue, your constant presence, your infuriating need to challenge his every decision — it should've felt like a vacation. But instead, an uncomfortable unease gnawed at him from the moment he entered the council room and saw your usual seat empty.

He shouldn't care. He knew that. But for some reason, his mind kept circling back to the night before — the rain, the bus, the fleeting glimpse of your tired face in the window.

Did you even get home safely?

He scowled at the thought. Not my problem. I already did more than enough. But no matter how much he tried to shake it off, that knot of regret just sat there in his chest, stubborn and unrelenting.

By mid-morning, his irritation boiled over. Slamming his pen down, he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "Where's Vice President Pain-in-the-Ass today?" he asked, tone far too casual to be casual.

Wooyoung's eyebrows shot up — before a slow smirk stretched across his face. "Why? Miss her already? You two were so cute sharing that umbrella last night."

Yunho's chair scraped violently against the floor as he sat up straighter. "What?! Who said— That's not— I'm only asking because I was expecting her to submit the student committee reports today!"

"Suuure," Wooyoung drawled, dragging out the word until Yunho was ready to fling a stapler at his head.

Seulgi, ever the peacekeeper, stepped in with a sigh. "She called in sick. Probably caught a cold from getting drenched yesterday."

The president's stomach did an uncomfortable flip, though he masked it with a disinterested shrug. "Serves her right for not bringing her own umbrella," he muttered.

But later that night, during his shift at the convenience store, he nearly rang up a customer's items twice — his mind completely elsewhere. Each time the door chimed, he half-expected to see you storm in with some ridiculous complaint about student council policies. He hated the way that thought made his chest tighten.

He hated it even more when, the next morning, he found himself at his kitchen counter — brewing herbal tea.

When you returned to school the next day, you dropped your bag onto your desk, only to pause, brow furrowing. Sitting there, completely unassuming, was a flask of warm herbal tea. No note. No explanation.

You glanced around the empty room — only one other person was there this early, and of course, it was him. Yunho, head down, pretending to be engrossed in a report he had already read twice.

You nudged the flask aside and pulled out your notebook instead, determined not to play into whatever weird game this was.

Across the room, his pen froze mid-sentence. After a few beats of silence, he huffed, loud enough for you to hear.

"For heaven's sake, it's not poisoned," he said, still not looking up. "Drink it if you want to actually recover."

You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious — but curiosity (and the faint scratch in your throat) won out. You unscrewed the lid, steam rising in a gentle curl. It smelled... comforting. Soothing. Like something homemade.

Reluctantly, you took a sip.

"...It's good," you admitted quietly.

He didn't respond, but when you looked up, you caught him — just for a second — sneaking a glance at you over the top of his file.

Again, neither of you said another word.

────

Step Three: forced vulnerability.

For a while, it seemed like the umbrella incident and the flask of tea never happened. Whatever fleeting kindness had passed between you both was quickly swallowed by your usual dynamic — sharp words, constant one-upping, and a relentless need to prove the other wrong.

That fragile truce didn't stand a chance.

It all came to a head after yet another brutal fight — the kind that had papers flying across the table, voices raised loud enough to make the underclassmen passing by the council room door wince. Seulgi had to physically step between you, arms stretched out like a human barricade.

"You always have to hog the spotlight, don't you?" you seethed, finger jabbing toward Yunho. "President this, President that — it's like you can't function unless the whole school is watching you."

"And you're any better?" His voice came sharp and fast, eyes blazing. "You waltz in here acting like you're saving us all, like this council should be grateful to breathe the same air as you. Spoiled little princess who can't handle not being number one."

The silence that followed was deafening. Even Wooyoung, who usually lived for drama like this, suddenly found his folder of expense reports incredibly fascinating.

You stormed out before anyone could see the flicker of hurt flash across your face. No way were you going to let Jung Yunho of all people make you feel small.

You walked blindly down the hall, fury pulsing in your veins, until you froze at the sound of his voice — quieter, softer, so unlike the boy who had just ripped into you moments ago.

"…No, Mum, I can't cover that shift. I already stayed late for council." A pause. "It's fine, really. I'll figure it out."

The reminder hit you hard. Yunho, the golden boy, the president everyone envied — was working part-time jobs after school. The same boy who seemed to have it all was just another kid juggling too much, carrying more weight than he let on. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, but you couldn't move either. Something about the edge of exhaustion in his voice made you stay.

Suddenly, the arrogant bastard didn't seem so untouchable after all.

A few days later, the roles reversed.

Yunho had gone to the library to grab an old council binder when he spotted you tucked away at a corner table. You weren't working — just sitting there, blankly staring at an open textbook like the words weren't even registering.

Next to you, a small pile of letters lay scattered — some still sealed, others torn open, the papers inside slightly crumpled like you'd held them too tightly. He didn't need to read them to know what they were. Letters from parents who cared more about achievements than feelings, words dressed up as 'encouragement' but laced with disappointment underneath.

He hadn't meant to stop, but something about the way your shoulders curled inward — that tiny, defeated slump — made him pull out a chair across from you without a word. He opened his own notebook, flipping through pages like he had a reason to be there.

The silence stretched, but for once, it didn't feel awkward.

Eventually, Yunho broke it.

"Not everyone's parents show up for them either, huh?" he said quietly, still pretending to read.

Your head snapped up, startled by the unexpected understanding in his voice. But he didn't look at you. He just kept twirling his pen between his fingers, as if the words had been said casually — like it wasn't the first time either of you had ever acknowledged this shared emptiness.

You didn't answer, but you didn't push the letters away either.

And just like that, things further shifted.

For the first time, you both saw each other — not as rivals or enemies, but just two kids quietly drowning under the weight of expectations neither of you had asked for.

────

Step Four: defending each other.

It happened so fast, you didn't even have time to think.

You were passing by the courtyard on your way back to the council room when you heard them — two students sitting on the low wall, voices pitched just loud enough to be overheard.

"I heard she only got vice president because her family donated a new wing to the school."

"Yeah, everyone knows Yunho's the real deal. She's just there to smile and look pretty. Riding his coattails the whole way."

Your hands curled into fists, steps already veering toward them — but someone else got there first.

The sharp thud of a bag hitting the ground made the gossipers jolt upright. Yunho stood there, shoulders squared, eyes dark with something dangerously close to fury.

"Say that again," he said quietly — and somehow, the softness of his voice was far more terrifying than if he'd shouted.

The students stammered, scrambling for excuses, and he didn't even spare you a glance as he slung his bag back over his shoulder and walked off, leaving you standing there — stunned silent.

Because for all the times you had accused him of being full of himself, Jung Yunho had defended you like it was second nature. Like the idea of anyone else insulting you was unthinkable.

You didn't know what to do with that.

The universe, however, was nothing if not fair. Because just a few days later, the rumours shifted — this time, about Yunho.

"Did you hear? Student council president's working at some convenience store. Imagine seeing him behind the counter after school, bagging snacks for pocket change."

"Golden boy's not so golden after all."

The words grated against your ears so sharply, you were standing in front of them before you even realised you'd moved.

Arms crossed, chin lifted, you gave them a smile so sweet it made your words all the sharper. "Funny. I didn't realise students who can't even pass basic math had opinions anyone cared about."

The stunned silence that followed was delicious. You didn't wait for their response — just turned on your heel and walked off like they weren't even worth your time.

That should've been the end of it — except Yunho was waiting for you by the lockers later that afternoon, arms folded, gaze unreadable.

"I didn't ask you to defend me," he said, tone somewhere between exasperation and confusion.

"Yeah, well." You shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "Couldn't let my rival's reputation get dragged through the mud before I beat you fair and square."

He stared at you for a long moment — long enough that you felt heat creep up your neck. And then, to your utter disbelief, he smiled. Just a little.

"You're insane."

"You're welcome."

Neither of you admitted what was really happening here.

Neither of you wanted to.

Because rivals didn't protect each other like this — right?

…Right?

It was supposed to be a one-time thing.

That's what you both told yourselves. Yunho stepping in when people ran their mouths about you? Just defending the council's reputation. You shutting down rumours about his part-time job? Basic professional courtesy. Nothing more.

Except it kept happening.

You noticed when he looked more tired than usual, dark circles smudged under his eyes like he hadn't slept a wink — and then you caught yourself caring. Which was ridiculous. You didn't care. You were just making sure the president didn't screw up his responsibilities because he couldn't handle his personal life. Right?

And Yunho? He wasn't watching out for you. No way. He just… happened to notice when you didn't eat lunch (because of course a spoiled princess would be picky), and maybe that's why he tossed a protein bar onto your desk without looking at you. Totally normal. Not thoughtful. Just practical.

The mental gymnastics you both performed to justify each and every concern were Olympic-level.

When you caught the president absently saving you the better seat during meetings, you told yourself he was just being tactical — easier for you to see the projector, of course. And when Yunho overheard you grumbling about forgetting your calculator before a math quiz, and then somehow one appeared on your desk five minutes later, you were definitely not touched. It was probably a spare he didn't need. Nothing more.

Wooyoung and Seulgi, meanwhile, were losing their minds — because the two of you were so deep in denial it was physically painful to watch.

"She just snapped at him for using the wrong pen colour for the event banners, then turned around and gave him the last slice of cake at the meeting," Seulgi whispered, wide-eyed.

"And he's been pretending to hate her handwriting, but I caught him saving one of her post-it notes in his folder," Wooyoung whispered back.

"Should we help?"

"Nah. Let them suffer."

Because to everyone else, it was painfully obvious: the two of you cared, far too much, and it was eating you both alive.

Neither of you could sleep without replaying your arguments, wondering if you'd crossed a line. Neither of you could look at the other without searching for signs — were they okay? Were they pushing too hard? Were they... thinking about you too?

Of course not.

You hated each other.

That's what you told yourselves.

That's what you needed to believe.

────

Step Five: the breaking point.

The final planning meeting for the year-end festival — the crown jewel of student council events — was supposed to be smooth sailing.

Supposed to be.

Instead, it turned into a sudden crisis and full-blown disaster. Miscommunications piled up like wreckage, schedules clashed, vendors were double-booked, and somehow, two essential permits vanished into thin air — all thanks to the endless assumptions of he'll handle it or she'll settle it.

In truth, the entire student council had been stretched too thin. With final year exams looming and everyone juggling revision sessions alongside festival planning, it was inevitable that details would slip through the cracks. Messages were missed, notes went unshared, and somewhere along the way, every member — even you and Yunho — had trusted that someone else would catch the mistakes.

No one did.

And now, with barely a week left until the biggest event of the year, it was all on the verge of collapse.

The council room was a war zone by the end of the day, with papers scattered across every surface, and half-eaten snacks abandoned next to rapidly-drained cups of instant coffee. The rest of the council had long since been sent home after nearly combusting from secondhand stress.

That left just the two of you — sworn enemies, or at least that's what you both kept telling yourselves — sitting across from each other in the wreckage, sleeves rolled up, hair undone, exhaustion written into every breath.

Somewhere between fixing the vendor placements and rewriting the schedule for the third time, you both cracked.

Laughter. Actual, delirious laughter. It started small — you snorted at something he mumbled under his breath, and he stared at you like you'd grown a second head before dissolving into laughter himself. The kind that made your stomach ache and your shoulders shake, the kind fueled by stress and sleep deprivation until it was impossible to stop.

"This is actual hell," you groaned, collapsing onto the table, cheek smushed against a poorly drawn map of the festival grounds.

"Yeah," he leaned back, arms hanging off the back of his chair, head tilted to stare at the ceiling. "But at least it's not boring."

You turned your head to look at him — hair sticking up in every direction, tie loosened, shirt wrinkled, sleeves unevenly rolled, and yet somehow still the same Yunho who drove you insane. Except, right now, he wasn't the 'golden boy president.' He was just… a boy. One who was just as tired, just as human.

"Yunho," you said softly, surprising even yourself. "Why do you hate me?"

His laughter faded. He didn't look at you right away — just exhaled long and slow, fingers tapping against the table.

"Because you make me feel like I'm not enough," he admitted, voice low, like a confession dragged straight from his chest. "And I hate feeling that way."

The honesty knocked the air from your lungs. Because it was exactly how you felt too — and you'd never meant for him to see you like that, just like you never thought you'd see him like this.

"I never wanted to hate you," you whispered, voice small. "I just wanted to beat you."

He finally turned his head, gaze meeting yours — and for the first time, there was no sharpness, no competition, no battle lines drawn between you. Just understanding.

And maybe, just maybe, something softer underneath. Something neither of you were ready to name.

"It's late. We should go," he murmured.

The air was cool, the sky stretched inky black above you, and the silence between you wasn't exactly uncomfortable — just unfamiliar. After months of snapping and snarling at each other, the absence of sharp words felt almost too quiet. Too fragile.

The two of you walked side by side down the empty street, your steps slower than usual, like neither of you wanted to be the first to break the strange peace that had settled over you.

But eventually, you couldn't hold back.

"…Are you okay not making your shift tonight?" you asked softly, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

He took a moment before answering, the faint scrape of his shoes against the pavement filling the gap. "I'll just work a double another time," he said with a shrug, like it was no big deal.

It made something pinch in your chest — this casual acceptance of overworking himself like it was second nature. You hesitated, then asked the question you realised you'd never actually known the answer to.

"Why do you work so hard?"

He didn't answer right away. His hands slid into his pockets, shoulders hunching slightly under the weight of the question. But eventually, his voice emerged, quieter than you expected.

"For as long as I can remember, it's just been me and my mum," he said. "She works really hard, but money's always been tight. When I was old enough, I took as many jobs as I could — bagging groceries, tutoring, working at that convenience store. And I kept my grades up because… I just wanted to make her proud. Wanted to give her a life where she didn't have to worry anymore."

You slowed your steps, turning your head to look at him properly. And once again, you saw him — not as your rival, not as the frustrating golden boy — but as a son. Someone's son, trying his best.

"You're a good son, Yunho," you said softly, with a smile that felt more genuine than any you'd given him before.

He smiled back — just a little — until you added, just as softly, "Can't say the same for myself though."

Yunho's footsteps halted. You stopped too, eyes falling to the sidewalk beneath you.

"You wanted to know why I transferred here, right?" you asked, voice quieter now.

Without waiting for an answer, you bent down and pulled up the edge of your right sock, revealing a thin line of surgical scars tracing across your ankle. The streetlight caught on the pale skin, glinting faintly.

"One bad match," you said, almost to yourself. "One opponent who played dirty during championships. That's all it took."

His brow furrowed, but he didn't interrupt.

"Like you said, I used to be fencing captain. Top-ranked in my old school." You let out a soft, bitter laugh. "And after the injury, I couldn't compete. I fell from first place — took months off to recover, missed exams, missed everything. To my parents, that was all it took for me to become… a disappointment."

You let your sock fall back into place, hands brushing down your skirt, voice tight with forced cheer. "So, they sent me here to start over. To rebuild whatever glory I lost. To make me their perfect trophy again."

The president didn't say anything right away. And for once, you didn't try to fill the silence either. You just stood there together, in the middle of a quiet street, under a flickering streetlamp — two students who had spent so long trying to outshine each other, only to realise they were both just chasing shadows.

When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you'd ever heard it.

"They were wrong."

You glanced up at him, blinking.

"They were wrong to make you think you're only worth something if you're perfect."

Your throat tightened, and you had to look away — because if you didn't, you might actually cry, and you weren't ready for that. Not in front of him.

"Come on," he said gently, nudging your arm. "We still have to survive this festival. One tragedy at a time."

You laughed — watery, but real. And without thinking, you bumped your shoulder into his.

For once, he didn't bump back harder.

────

Five steps later, you were finally here.

The festival had somehow, miraculously, come together — the chaos you and Yunho had wrestled into order was now a blur of glowing lanterns, flashing booth lights, and bursts of laughter floating up into the night air. From the rooftop, you could see it all — your shared battlefield turned into something beautiful.

You should have felt victorious. But instead, your chest ached with something you couldn't name.

Footsteps behind you.

You didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Shouldn't you be down there soaking up the praise, President?" you asked, arms folded across your chest, voice deliberately casual.

He stepped up beside you, hands stuffed into his pockets, gaze flicking down over the festival before settling on you. "Shouldn't you be down there taking credit, Vice President?"

You side-eyed him, lips twitching up despite yourself. "I thought you hated sharing your spotlight."

"I do," he said — quieter this time, almost too honest. "But… maybe I don't mind sharing with you."

You froze.

This wasn't the usual banter. There was no smirk, no teasing edge to his voice. Just Yunho, standing there under the open sky, the glow of the festival washing a soft colour over his face.

"I spent this whole year trying to beat you," you admitted softly, your fingers curling around the cool metal railing. "Trying to prove I was better."

"Same," he said — too quickly, like he'd been holding it in. Then he shook his head, a breathless laugh slipping out. "But every time I thought I was close to finally taking you down, I just… ended up liking you more."

Your heart stuttered. "Liking me?"

"Yeah." He exhaled hard, like saying it out loud physically knocked the air from his lungs. "I hated you so much I couldn't think straight, and then somewhere along the way, I just wanted to know you. All of you."

The first fireworks burst overhead, painting the sky in red and gold. The light caught in his hair, in his eyes — and you realised you'd been staring at him this whole time.

"You're such an idiot," you whispered, even though your throat was suddenly tight.

"Why?" He turned toward you fully now, his shoulder brushing yours. "Because I confessed first?"

"No." You took a step closer — close enough that the heat of him bled into your skin. "Because I've liked you too. For longer than I wanted to admit."

Another firework cracked, sending sparks raining down like stars.

Neither of you looked at it.

Yunho's hand found yours on the railing — the touch hesitant at first, until your fingers curled back around his. His thumb traced along your knuckles like he couldn't believe this was real.

"I still want to beat you," you said, voice barely above a whisper.

"Good." He leaned down, forehead almost brushing yours. "I wouldn't like you if you didn't."

And then — under a sky exploding with light — he kissed you.

It wasn't sweet or shy. It was a clash of everything you'd ever felt for each other — every argument that left you breathless, every late-night meeting where silence spoke louder than words, every sharp-tongued insult meant to cut but only carved deeper into longing.

His lips were warm and urgent, tasting faintly of festival cotton candy and the mint gum he always chewed when stressed. His hand slid up, fingers threading into your hair before settling at your jaw, his thumb tracing a line along your cheekbone so softly it left your skin tingling.

He pulled you in like you were something fragile and precious and dangerous all at once — something he couldn't risk breaking, but couldn't stand losing.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, hands fisting in the fabric of his blazer, tugging him closer until there was nothing between you but heat and heartbeats. You could feel the tremble in his breath, the subtle shudder that ran through him when your fingers brushed the back of his neck. His heart hammered so loudly against your chest that you could swear it was echoing your own.

The fireworks painted streaks of gold and crimson across your closed eyelids, but none of it compared to the colour blooming beneath your skin — the dizzying warmth curling low in your stomach, the ache of every unsaid word bleeding into every touch.

When you finally broke apart, panting slightly, foreheads pressed together, you both laughed — breathless and dazed — like you couldn't believe it took you this long to get here.

The fireworks were beautiful.

But they were nothing compared to this.

────

The following Monday after the festival, the entire school knew.

Some claimed they'd caught glimpses of you and Yunho sneaking off together just before the fireworks, while others swore they saw his arm casually draped around your shoulders during the late-night cleanup. And, of course, the boldest rumours came from those who witnessed you both at the council table, sipping from the same straw like it was the most natural thing in the world.

But none of that was the real giveaway.

The real giveaway was how you two fought — exactly the same as before, except now he called you baby in the middle of arguments, and you shot back with a saccharine sweetheart, both said with enough venom to curdle milk. The council meetings were still battlegrounds, but now they were laced with something sharper — affection disguised as irritation, fondness hidden under barbed words.

"We should focus on next month's fundraiser," Yunho declared, tapping his pen against the table.

"We should focus on midterm review sessions first," you countered, not even looking up from your notes.

"You just want to show off how perfect your study guides are," he accused, eyes narrowing.

"And you just want to procrastinate so you can rewrite your precious 'president's welcome speech,'" you fired back.

"It's called leadership."

"It's called an ego trip."

The room went silent — council members exchanging wide-eyed glances, already bracing for the explosion.

But instead of storming off like you used to, Yunho just leaned back in his chair, tilting his head with that infuriating smirk. "I'm still your boss, Vice President."

Your smile was too sweet, too dangerous. "And I'm still the one who covers your ass when you forget deadlines, President."

Somewhere in the back of the room, Wooyoung silently started a betting pool: kiss or kill — which would happen first?

Together, the two of you became the undeniable, unstoppable force of the student council — a perfect storm of brains, charisma, and sheer chaos. When Yunho's charm and golden-boy smile couldn't win over the principal, your cold logic and flawless presentations sealed the deal. When your sharp tongue and brutal honesty made freshmen tremble, his easy grin softened the blow. Together, you raised more funds, pulled off bigger events, and terrified more slackers than any council duo in school history.

And yes — you still argued like your lives depended on it.

But now, the fights ended with lazy kisses behind closed doors, fingers brushing under the table during meetings, and softly muttered threats of "I'm still going to beat you at this" whispered like a love language.

Some days, he walked you to your chauffeured car, fingers laced with yours despite the stunned looks from every passing student. Other days, you waited at the convenience store until his shift ended, pretending to browse the snack aisle while secretly watching him work — admiring the boy who once drove you insane, and now, somehow, made your heart ache in the best way possible.

And every night you walked home together, sharing an umbrella or splitting a can of soda, your shoulders bumping softly in the dark.

"We're still enemies, right?" you asked once, voice quiet under the stars.

He grinned, tugging you closer by the waist. "Always."

Then he kissed you again — and just like that, the fight for power had never tasted so sweet. Because somewhere between rivalry and romance, between every clash and compromise, you both realised: there was no winning without each other.

If you've watched Kaguya-sama: Love Is War and are also a fan of it, just know that I love you. The way Wooyoung was initially going to take Miyuki's role, but on second thought, Yunho seemed more well-suited for it. Wouldn't you agree?

Also, I hope y'all liked the rooftop kiss🙈

And if you haven't watched the anime, I love you too! For taking the time to read this, I genuinely hope it was enjoyable hehe I know I had a lot of fun writing this.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[kazumist]

A LITTLE MORE THAN YOU REALIZE .ᐟ

✩ — the temptation to indulge yourself in selfishness curses you and caleb. from the day he graduated to the day he returned back alive—it never leaves. greediness is a sin. yet neither of you care, as you love one another in greed.

✩ — includes: caleb x f!mc!reader. fluff, angst, hurt/comfort. childhood friends to strangers (not literally) to yearners to lovers (i love their pipeline bro). wc: 14,670. yes, 14 fucking THOUSAND i went feral over him !!!!

✩ — cw: THIS FIC IS A REIMAGINE, MEANING IT CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FROM THE FOLLOWING - stage observer, exclusive aftertaste, endless summer, lucid dream (myth), hidden waves, homecoming wings (both 1 & 2) and the events that happen in this fic is HEAVILY based from these memories mentioned (i put my own twist into it !!!). caleb is CRAAAZY like how he usually is. :3 mentions a bit of violence and food. a biiiit suggestive but i honestly think it's not that bad. this fic is semi-proofread, meaning there still could be some minor errors that i might have overlooked.

FIRST: GRADUATION SURPRISES (WAIT FOR ME TO COME BACK).

The familiar sounds of rustling papers and flipping through the pages of dusty books echoed in Caleb’s bedroom. As you flip through another book, inspecting whether it should go to the “stay with Gran” or “go with Caleb” pile in the room, an envelope with a pattern of apples slips out and lands on your lap.

Is this a love letter? You wondered, grabbing it and flipping it around to check the details. But the thing is—Caleb doesn’t accept love letters. Yet this one is kept in a book as if Caleb were using it as a bookmark. You huff at the thought—he doesn’t even use the lucky charm I made him back then, even though I worked really hard on that.

Checking around Caleb’s desk, you confirm that there’s nothing as feminine as the envelope in your hand.

Could it be from someone that he likes?

That thought alone made your stomach churn. You didn’t even hear the door opening until you felt a suddenly cold feeling against your cheek. It was Caleb, lightly pressing a soda against your face. “Got that tired, pipsqueak?” He asks, opening the can of soda before handing it to you again.

The soft pop! of the can opening reminded you that Caleb didn’t know about the envelope, so you hid it from him and took the soda from his hand. “How thoughtful of you to open the can for me. Bet you captured a lot of hearts with that attitude, huh?” You told him before taking a sip. 

You were looking at his back when you were drinking, watching him fix the suitcase that’s currently open on his bed. When you lower the drink and put it on the table, Caleb stops and gives you a strange look. “I’m pretty sure there wasn’t anything mixed in that soda I gave you. Are you okay up there?” He replies.

“Hey! Rude much?” You furrowed your brows at him but that quickly went away as you suddenly felt his hand pinching your cheek. “Owww! shtop it!” The words that come out of your moment aren’t really that coherent. “Then stop talking nonsense.”

Caleb never keeps secrets from me—why is that envelope an exception?

-

When the day of Caleb’s graduation approached, he leaned down toward you as you helped him fix his tie. 

“You know, these past few days I’ve been reflecting,” you told him. He teasingly raised an eyebrow at you for a moment. “That’s new. What were you reflecting on?” He asks. “Now that you’re graduating... Well, I just thought that I didn’t need to know everything, Caleb. However, if you ever meet someone more important than me, then you absolutely have to tell me.” avoiding his gaze, you loosened your grip on his tie, but you didn’t let go. You could faintly feel the rhythm of his steady heartbeat against your hands.

“Who could be more important?”

“... I don’t know. You ask yourself that question.” You take a deep breath. “You’ll definitely meet a lot of new people soon. New allies, new friends, maybe even...” Maybe even a girlfriend. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. “What? You mean a girlfriend?” Sometimes you despise how Caleb could easily read you like a book.

Your silence was the only answer he needed. “I won't get a girlfriend.”

“What?”

“Caleb, you’re the last one we’re waiting for. The commencement speeches are about to be given,” his classmate says from behind him. Yet Caleb doesn’t move an inch, keeping his gaze focused on you. He doesn’t seem to care about the commencement speeches, almost approaching the scheduled program, and is only concerned about you.

“I won't get a girlfriend,” he repeats, emphasizing himself this time. “You and Gran are enough for me. I don't really have the energy to care about other people. So you don’t have to worry, I won't." You let go of his tie and he pulls away and stands up straight. Before he takes his leave, he doesn’t forget to ruffle your hair, which you slap his hand away for. He lets out a small laugh at your reaction. “Gotta go now. Wait for me to come back.”

As soon as Caleb started his speech, he seemed unreachable to you. Like he was so far—out of your arm’s length unlike before—but maybe it was about time that your arm got sore. Will he not get a girlfriend? You couldn’t help but think. “My speech would’ve ended here, but before I went onstage, someone told me something strange. It had to do with what’s “important”.”

You didn’t have to be a genius to know that he was referring to you. Your eyes met Caleb’s despite the large crowd that’s watching him right now. He flashed you a small smile and continued. “She said that after graduation, I would meet more people and experience new things. Maybe I'd meet someone who is more “important” than her.

But I believe that it ultimately comes down to choice. People only yearn for the future because they haven’t encountered someone they truly cherish. I consider myself lucky. I already have someone very important to me, someone who I can't live without.

I wish everybody could have this luck. Thank you, and happy graduation.” The audience applauds for him, some even whistling (his batchmates, perhaps) yet Caleb holds his gaze at you. Neither of you broke eye contact for a long moment. As the most anticipated moment of tossing their graduation caps in the air occurred; Caleb took it as his cue to leave the stage and join the crowd below him. The crowd becomes bigger, and you find it difficult to navigate yourself through it.

Nearby, you see Caleb push through the midst of the crowd. He seems anxious as if he were searching for someone. “Caleb!” You called out to him. He looks in your direction; the crowd seems to have lessened, and you make a run for him. “Hey, be careful! You—” You interrupt Caleb by throwing your arms around him.

Standing on your tiptoes, you gently pull his face down and press a kiss to his cheek before he could even react. Caleb’s eyes widen at your actions, his brain running a million thoughts as seconds pass by. The soft feeling of your lips pressing against his cheek is something he could never forget in his life.

A selfish act on your part—a shocking one to Caleb.

“Congratulations on getting through college! There’s your gift—you can’t find a girlfriend now, Caleb!” You say, sticking out your tongue at him before handing him a bouquet that you prepared beforehand.

“Actually… when you were packing, I stumbled upon this love letter that’s in an envelope with some apples decorated on it. I'm not forgiving you for keeping it a secret for me but I'll let it slide just this once because your speech was good.” You then reached out to take Caleb’s cap from his head, wearing it on your head instead.

But Caleb stays unusually quiet. His ears are red and he swears they’re probably burning even more as you two bask in the sunlight. “...Caleb? Are you okay there?” You ask him, waving a hand in front of him to get his attention. Your hand then tries to reach out to his ear but Caleb grabs your wrist before you can do so.

He gently lowers your hand, leans down, and covers his face with his other hand right after. “Caleb?” You move closer to him but he flicks your forehead just as you did so. “Ouch! Hey!”

“This... love letter you’ve mentioned. It was tucked in my copy of flight detector mechanics, right? And it was in an envelope with an apple pattern on it,” he then says. “I think so. You remember it well, huh?” You don’t know why that disturbed you a bit.

Caleb pinches your cheek again and you repeatedly slap his arm to make him stop. He doesn’t. “Silly girl. That’s the lucky charm you gave me for my exams. The original envelope got ink on it so I replaced it with a new one.”

Oh.

“So... it wasn't... a love letter? Like at all?”

Embarrassment courses through your veins. What the actual fuck? You thought. But before you could think about it even more, Caleb’s hand sneaked around your waist and pulled you to stand beside him. You two are suddenly faced by what seems like a photojournalist for the academy’s newspaper.

As the photojournalist was finding the right focus for the picture, Caleb leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I have never kept a secret from you, not even once. And I don't plan on doing so anytime soon.”

SECOND: PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME. NOT LIKE THIS.

The explosion pushes you back, sending a ringing sound through your ears. You slowly opened your eyes, your vision slightly covered in all of the dust floating around. But once your vision clears, your eyes widen in shock at the sight before you. 

The home that you and Caleb once grew up in is now burning in flames. Gran is still in there; oh my god, Caleb—Caleb just went in a few moments ago. Mustering up all your strength, you push yourself up, hissing at the sudden pain you feel in your ankle. I probably twisted it when the explosion happened, shit. But you didn’t let that stop you. 

You limped towards the burning house in front of you but suddenly you felt someone pulling you back. You looked at who it was and saw that the firefighters had just arrived and were now preparing to put the flames away. “Ma’am, it’s not safe to go near the scene. Please stand back.”

The firefighter’s grip on you was tight. Struggling to break from his grip, you replied. “No, I—I can't. Gran is still in there, please—he's still in there. I have to save them, I—” Panic took over you as you noticed that there were now firefighters who were holding water hoses and putting the fire away.

“There are firefighters right now going inside to check on them; we need to ask you to stay put as the flames are still being put out.”

Still feeling dazed from the explosion, your head throbs. You stumbled in your steps, feeling your knees getting weaker. The firefighter who was holding you back caught you before you fell to your knees and you couldn’t do anything. You just follow his lead in bringing you to an ambulance stationed a few steps away.

A year then passes after that incident. You still remember the day the city hall sent you a text and confirmed Gran and Caleb’s deaths, asking you to pick up their death certificates as soon as you can. You still get nightmares from that day. It was all so… sudden. One moment you were just walking with Caleb, and the moment he stepped inside, everything was gone in a blink of an eye. 

How could you possibly move on from experiencing something so heartbreaking?

THIRD: JUST HOW CRUEL AND UNFAIR CAN YOU BE?

“I have never kept a secret from you, not even once. And I don't plan on doing so anytime soon.”

Caleb’s words during his graduation from the Aerospace Academy suddenly echo in your head as soon as the restraints on your wrists release you from the chair. Looking back now, just how ironic was it for him to say that?

“Surprised? I'm sure that it’s been a while, but you already forgot about me?” He chuckles, reaching a hand to ruffle your hair just like he did before. You slapped his hand away from your head—you had no idea what was happening right now. He had been terrifying just moments ago, and now he was acting like nothing had happened.

Acting as if he hadn’t left you alone a year ago.

“You—Caleb, you’re dead! I had to fucking watch you die in that explosion!” You hadn’t intended to raise your voice. But with Caleb’s sudden reappearance in your life, how else were you supposed to feel? 

Caleb’s expression had amusement written all over it. “If I were dead, then who would be standing in front of you right now?” He asks as if he was teasing you.

And that pissed you off even more. You stood up to stand in front of him, and when Caleb reached out to you yet again, you slapped his hand away. Frantically, your eyes scanned him—his lips, his cheeks, his hair, his eyes—you couldn’t believe it. Could it be that he really evaded death back then? 

“C'mon, pipsqueak, don’t be like that.” The second you heard pipsqueak roll off of his tongue, it almost made you nauseous. He attempts to get closer to you again, and this time you let him, as you are still trying to process it all. Instead of ruffling your hair, he gently patted your head this time. as if he was trying to soothe you.

It would’ve worked—it should’ve worked. Caleb always knew how to soothe you when you were in pain. He always knew how to ease it. But you never would’ve thought that one day he would be the one causing it.

How can he ease the pain like he did before when he’s the one who caused it this time?

“I’m sorry. Did I scare you?” He whispers low as one hand cradles your cheek and the other pulls you slightly closer by the waist. You didn’t know what to say; your mind was blank. All you could do was stare into his eyes, hoping that he would be able to read you just like he did before.

"You... you left me.” You managed to whisper back somehow. “I—I still don’t understand. How are you so fine with this? Did you just fucking think that I'd be ecstatic to see you? Is that the reaction you were expecting, Caleb?” You burst, pulling yourself away from him but Caleb’s grip on you was tight. 

“Let go of me!” You yelled, punching his chest as you struggled. The overwhelming weight of everything that had happened took over, tears prickling and blurring your vision—perhaps it was rage, perhaps it was grief—you didn’t know. “I didn't leave you, pipsqueak.” he then says.

Liar.

Caleb never lied to you. He never broke a promise either. Yet why does it all feel void now? “You did,” you hissed at him. “How could you be so—cruel, Caleb? Leaving me in the dark like this, I could've helped you! How can you be so fucking unfair?”

“How could you be so... so selfish?”

You finally broke free from his grip and took a step back but Caleb’s reflexes were quick as he grabbed ahold of your arm immediately.

The loud sound of your palm hitting his cheek echoed in the interrogation room. He let his head face the side for a moment; you didn’t know what to expect. You could feel Caleb’s grip on your arm tightening painfully. But he just pulls you closer again and you just glare at him this time.

Caleb then leaned into your ear. “I didn't leave you,” he repeats, his voice weaker this time. He sounded so… vulnerable.

You held back a sob at that, letting a few tears escape as they rolled down your cheeks. Caleb pulls back, returning his hand to gently caress your cheek. You felt the cold feeling of rubber from his gloves as he was wiping away your tears. “It’s okay. Let it out. I'm here now.”

Wrapping your arms around him, you cried against the fabric of his uniform. Caleb lets you, wrapping one arm around your waist and his other hand cradling your head. The sound of your sobs wrecked him.

“I thought you were dead.” You felt Caleb press a soft kiss in your hair as soon as he heard you. “It’s okay, I'm back,” he replies. 

“And I'll always be by your side. I promise.”

FOURTH: THOUGHT THAT I KNEW, NOW I DON’T HAVE A CLUE. WHO ARE YOU?

When the wound on your knee reopened, Caleb gently set you on the couch and started to tend to your knee. You could see his eyes soften as he did so. “The injured cat you brought home—do you recall it? To prevent it from escaping without making noise, I attached a collar with a bell.”

You could feel your patience running thin by the second. “I don't want to hear it,” but with the help of Caleb’s evol, you couldn’t move your knee an inch. He leans closer to you, and his voice lowers itself by an octave. “Maybe I should put a collar around your neck too, to keep you from running away, hm?”

“Is this how you’re going to protect me? I just need to glue myself by your side at all times?”

“I know that it sounds a bit unfair, but...” Caleb grabbed a bracelet and wrapped it around your wrist. It quickly assessed your vital signs. Caleb clicks his tongue in annoyance at the results. “But because of that monster, your wounds are infected.” He then grabs ahold of your wrist, tugging it closer to him.

“Is there a way for you to run around without getting injured?” You scoff at him. “I've had enough of your protection, Caleb.”

The man kneeling in front of you was then sent into deep thought after you said those words. He lets out a deep breath before speaking up again. “If being with me brings you this much pain, then just endure three more days.” He immediately gets up but you ask him before he can take his leave. “What are you going to do?”

“...Tie up loose ends. I just need three days, and all of this will be over.”

-

Three days later, the news flashing on the television suddenly announced that the lockdown in Skyhaven had been lifted. You automatically knew who was behind this. “The fleet will return to the deepspace tunnel after all of this. You’ll be safe for now,” Caleb then says, turning off the television as soon as you get the news.

The sounds of raindrops against the window and thunder were all you could hear now. “So technically, in other terms, you’re just going to leave again and not utter a word about it.” That wasn’t a question. Caleb doesn’t reply; instead, he grabs your wrist again. “Let’s have one last meal together before I leave."

You pulled yourself away from his grip. “So what? Now I have to listen to the colonel’s orders even when it comes to having my meals?” You walked over to the couch, taking a seat there instead. Caleb follows and sits in front of you with an apple in his hand. “You can be mad, but you shouldn’t neglect your health.” 

“I'm not mad.”

“Growing up, we knew each other so well. Better than anyone, even. I could see through your lies when you blink. When you bit your lip, I knew you were upset over something.” His voice was soft and filled with reminiscence. “If that’s the case, what am I thinking about now?” A challenge aimed at him.

You could sense a brewing change in Caleb. It’s like the image you had of him during your childhood up until before he became the fleet’s colonel was slowly drowning away from you. “I wonder, how could you turn into someone I could hardly even recognize?” Your question had a hint of hurt in it.

“You think I have some chip implanted inside of me, right? And now, to you, I'm no longer who I was supposed to be.” The possibility of a chip being implanted inside of him sends a chill down your spine. What if he did have a chip inside of him? Caleb’s hand then reaches out to your cheek before you can form another thought about it. “What if I told you I was always like this?”

Caleb's face becomes stern. "The people who want to hurt you should just disappear. You’re only safe when you’re with me," you shake your head in a display of defiance. "I don’t want to live like this, Caleb! I don’t need you—"

The air between them is electric as he takes a step closer. Your back is pressed against the couch as Caleb’s figure towers over you. Fear had started to grow inside of you by this point. He then asks in a hushed, almost beseeching voice, "You don’t need me? Is that what you think?" He let himself fall closer, balancing by stretching out his arm on your right side.

“Fine then, tell me. What do you want?” You struggled to break your wrist free from his grip. “Let me go!” He doesn’t—he ignores. “We can return to Linkon if that’s what you wish. If you want to go back to the past, then I'll rebuild our old house, and we can move in together. If one house isn’t enough, I'll build you a whole maze. I'll decorate it with everything you want, and it’ll be the most beautiful garden; no one will ever find you.”

“I'll protect you forever.”

You let out a shaky sigh at his words. This was not the Caleb you knew from before. This was a different Caleb—and the painful part of everything about this? You thought you knew Caleb. After all, he said so himself. Growing up, you two knew each other so well. But why is it now that the man who is currently restraining you on the couch of his home seems so distant and unfamiliar from the Caleb you knew? 

“Caleb… you can’t just—” you pause, licking your lips as you thought of the right words to say. “Look, you’re very important to me, and no one could ever replace you.”

“Really now?” His voice was laced with doubt. “I've been choking and enduring day after day for years, holding myself back. However, now... I've had enough of those games.”

Who are you?

- 

“Remember this, okay? From now on, I'll always be by your side. It’s okay. I'll always be there for you, and I won't hurt you.” 

The far childhood memory appeared in your dreams last night. It almost feels like deja vu was occurring to you with irony in it as well. Guess you forgot all the things that you told me. So much for saying all of that when we were 12. you thought.

When a sudden gust of wind hit you, you snapped back into reality. “It feels like every time we say goodbye, I'm always sending you off,” you told him. Caleb is about to reach out his hand (to ruffle your hair again? perhaps), but he stops himself. He lowers his hand instead and replies. “I guess it won’t be a painful experience this time.”

“All right. I'll be going now.” You shift your gaze to the ground as a lump forms in your throat when Caleb bids his farewell. “Actually, wait.” You raise your head to look at him. “can you... promise me something?” He feels selfish for even having the guts to ask for such a thing from you.

Does he deserve to ask that?

Caleb honestly thinks he’s unworthy.

“Promise me that you’ll eat on time and look after yourself,” he says. “Okay,” you softly let out. 

“I promise.”

As you were on the way home, you and Tara caught up for a short moment. but the call ends abruptly due to Tara’s boss calling so suddenly. Putting back your phone in your pocket, you felt something strange inside of it. You pull it out to get a better look at it. A kid's handwriting was evident with the vibrant colors of crayons used to write it. 

Forgiveness coupon for Caleb. Valid for 100 years.

A sudden wave of sadness crashed inside of you as you could feel tears prickling your eyes again. “Oh my god. Caleb, you dummy... ” You find yourself laughing pathetically at the piece of paper in your hand as tears slowly slide down your face. 

And this is the moment you decide that you don’t want to lose Caleb for a second time.

FIFTH: HE WAS AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY YOU LOST HIM. 

While visiting the grocery store that you and Caleb used to visit a lot after school as teens, a wave of nostalgia hits you. The owner is getting ready to shut it down, which bummed you out, but you offered to assist with the cleanup.

Your mind wanders to Caleb as soon as you hear the sound of airplanes overhead. Entering the garden behind the business, which you and he used to spend time in when they were teenagers, you recall telling Caleb about the hydrangeas there. Because the hydrangeas bloomed for so long, Caleb had explained that it was named Endless Summer.

A shelf becomes unbalanced close by, and as you try to put it back where it belongs, Caleb's arm comes up behind you to stabilize it. 

You haven’t seen Caleb or even talked to him after you parted ways in Skyhaven. He sometimes sent you short texts but as soon as you were about to respond to them, he vanished into thin air each time.

It was awkward, to say the least.

While you were trapped between him and the shelf, he leaned in. "Even if there were three of you, this place wouldn't be cleaned up in time," he says. You find yourself unable to meet his gaze. So instead, your eyes look anywhere else except his eyes—he was wearing more casual clothes today and he had a luggage bag next to him. “What are you doing here?” You ask, changing the topic.

“Business trip. I also just happen to be passing by,” he says, putting his arm back to his side. You move away instantly at the given distance. You give Caleb another once-over, suddenly getting reminded of the times he’d come home for summer break with how he looked.

It’s like he’ll be leaving again so soon.

“When are you returning to Skyhaven?” you ask again. You have asked Caleb this question multiple times. But it feels bitter on your tongue as soon as it leaves your lips. And the Caleb standing in front of you... isn’t who he used to be. Caleb feigns hurt at your question, “I just got back, and you’re already asking when I’m leaving?”

“That’s not what I…” Caleb raises his hand a bit, and you notice. But he lowers it again. Why? What was he about to do? “Well, I’m pretty sure you don’t live in this neighborhood. So what brings you here?”

“Would you believe it if I said I was also passing by? I found out the owner was closing the store down and I thought I would help.” Caleb chuckles at that and glances at the shelf nearby. He makes a jab at your height. And when you snark a reply back at him, he raises his hand again, going for your hair—yet, he pauses.

His hand stays in the air for a quick second before he reaches out to grab a book from the top shelf to play it off. “You still need help to tidy this place up, right? I’ll lend a hand.”

“And I’ll be heading back to Skyhaven tomorrow morning.” Oh.

“All right then.”

There was some sort of tension in the air as you and Caleb faced away from each other. You both made yourselves busy with your own things within the store. 

You hated feeling awkward with Caleb. It was never supposed to be awkward with him. Yet with what has happened recently, perhaps change was bound to happen. However, were you even ready to accept change in the first place?

No clue.

-

You both head to the garden after the cleaning is complete. No one has been caring for the flowers, but they haven't altered much from what you can remember of them. The area has been taken over by leaves and vines—Caleb leaves to find the hose.

Your phone vibrated when he left; you checked it and saw that Tara had left you a voice message. Clicking the play button to listen to it, you heard Tara’s voice immediately. “Hey! There’s a new shooting range open in Azure Square. Do you wanna go for some rounds later? You know, for fun?” Before you could give a decline to her offer, Caleb comes back with the hose.

“Did something happen?” he asks. “Oh, a colleague just asked me if I wanted to hang out in Azure Square later.”

“If you wanna go, then I’ll be heading back to Skyhaven. I’ll drop you off at Azure Square since it’s on the way.”

You paused when you heard him. Why is he assuming that I’ll accept Tara’s offer? I was planning on declining in the first place. “There's no need,” you tell him. He looks away, shifting his gaze to the hydrangeas in front of you both. “Would it be... inconvenient if your colleague met me?”

Grabbing the hose from him, you faced it at him and quickly turned on the water. It splashes onto Caleb’s chin and he flinches at the sudden contact. You watch as the water droplets slide down his neck and soak the neckline of his muscle shirt. They soon reach the necklace hanging around his neck. Was Caleb’s neck always so…detailed? You wondered. 

Snap out of it.

You shot him a glare. “Caleb, I never said I was leaving in the first place.” Oh.

Before the awkward tension could return, you speak up again. “Aren’t you gonna water the plants?” The water hose is off as you offer it to Caleb. He kneels down to water the hydrangeas but when he glances at you, his gaze visibly softens. “Okay, you can stop glaring at me now. How about you water the plants this time?”

-

The familiar sound of a phone camera shuttering makes you glance at Caleb. “Huh? Did you take a picture of the white hydrangea?” He looks away, avoiding your gaze since he got caught. The picture, where the said white hydrangea is nearby the edge of it, has most of its focus on you.

“I rarely see things like these in Skyhaven. Even in my dreams, I could hear gunshots and blaring alarms.”

I also dream of you. a lot—perhaps even more after you left Skyhaven. Our last interaction before we parted troubles me in my sleep. Did you hate me for that? I hope you didn’t. I pray that you don’t—because I don’t know what I would do if you did hate me.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Someone calls out from inside the store. “That must be a customer. I’ll go take a look,” you told him. He nodded as you left the garden area.

-

When you return, you see Caleb napping. You liked it when Caleb slept, for he was so beautiful yet so unaware of it as he did so. (He was as beautiful as the day you lost him back then—but is it truly the same person from all those years ago before you?) 

He had a book resting on his abdomen but his brows were furrowed and he kept stirring in his sleep. His breathing slowly started to become heavy and you couldn’t help but feel so helpless at him. “You can’t even relax in your dreams, Caleb? ” you asked. 

He groans in response, and a hand reaches out to soothe him by his forehead. He groans even more, brows furrowing themselves even more. Your hand then moves down to his cheek and your thumb rubs against his under eyes. Caleb then grabs your wrist even though his eyes are still closed. “Don’t go…”

His eyes slowly flutter open but they stay half-lidded. “Don’t leave me alone.” Caleb leans in (whether it was to hug you or kiss you, you honestly can’t figure it out)—everything is happening so quickly, but you lightly push him away to wake him out of his senses. “Caleb…?” you softly call out to him.

“...Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Suddenly, you felt something sting your eye. You rubbed it with your knuckles, trying to get it out. “It's okay. I just got something in my eye.” You then feel Caleb’s hands grab yours, gently pulling it away from your eye. “Let me see.”

“Did you have a nightmare?”You asked him. A bitter smile tugs at him as he flicks his gaze from your lips and back to your eyes. “Don’t blink, okay?”He softly asks instead. He avoided the question.

Both of his palms feel cool as he gently grabs your face. Your eyes didn’t leave his at all when he blew your eye. The short distance has your heart hammering in your chest; your faces are only inches apart; one small nudge is all it takes and—what were you even thinking?

That would never happen. Not with Caleb. 

His other hand places itself on top of yours. His hands had always been bigger than yours—and without even looking at it, you could feel Caleb’s palm take over yours. An electric feeling when your fingers brushed against the heel of his palm. With one last rub of his thumb across your cheek, Caleb pulls away.

He pulls away as if he were restraining himself.

“Don’t move,” you say as you move closer to his face so you can softly blow a petal from his hair. "You know, the scent of endless summers can bring people sweet dreams for a whole night." He catches the petal in his hand and laughs. As you stand to leave, Caleb grabs your hand before you can get far.

"But... there aren’t any endless summers in Skyhaven.”

Skyhaven doesn’t have you. 

SIXTH: LIKE SOME KIND OF MAGNET, YOU’RE A MYSTIC FORCE. 

You don’t know if you’re hallucinating or what.

“Caleb? You didn’t message that you’d be visiting Linkon again,” you say. “I thought you’d be busy.” And just like the last time you saw each other, Caleb encounters you again as you were lending a hand to help someone. This time it was an old lady who had lost her bracelet and you helped her look for it.

When you returned the bracelet to her (Caleb trailing behind), you decided to ask. “Ma’am, this bracelet looks quite unique. Have you worn this for a long time?” The old lady in the wheelchair lets out a relaxed sigh. “Yes, someone special gave it to me back in the day. I never had the heart to throw it away.”

“Was it from a friend or a lover?”

“Let’s just say... a friend who never became a lover. If I were braver, perhaps it could have happened. When you reach my age, regret will be your biggest fear.” The elderly lady soon bids her farewell but she doesn’t leave without asking Caleb a question. “Young man, you got here quite early. Why did you just stand so far and watch her?”

“I—” The old lady then takes her leave. Caleb finds the right words to say as I look at him. “Well, I’ll get going now,” he says, embarrassment laced in his tone. “Leaving so soon? You haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Correction: I did one thing—I saw you.” As he turns to walk away, you ask him. “It’s getting late; are there still any trains boarding for Skyhaven? ” Caleb doesn’t turn around. “I can catch the last one.” His insistence to leave stung a bit. “Do you want to count how many words you’ve said to me so far?” That’s where he stops.

“We can’t keep doing this forever, Caleb.”

He felt so close yet so far. And whatever is going on between the two of you now has to stop. Because you don’t think either of you could keep this push-and-pull method up. In one second, you’d be close—and in a blink of an eye, you’d be meters apart. It’s enough to make you spiral. He sighs, still not facing you. “I'm just afraid that... It might make you uncomfortable.” That I might make you uncomfortable. 

“If it did, I wouldn’t have asked you to stay, dummy.” Caleb finally turns around; his eyes had an unfamiliar look in them, one that’s full of hope (maybe a mix of yearning too). “Do you want me to stay?” He softly asks.

“If you leave for Skyhaven now, you’ll get home past midnight. You can stay at my place for the night.”

-

“Pepper, please,” Caleb says as he works beside you in your kitchen. You turn to him with the ground pepper on a dish when all of a sudden Caleb sneezes. You laugh at him as he regains himself. “It still makes you sneeze, huh?” 

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” You gave him a dramatic gasp. “I did not! Don't slander your sous chef." 

“I remember when you tried to cook for the first time. I kept hearing your sneezes from the living room.” Caleb chuckles at the memory. “You were kinder back then, offering me tissues, checking up on me. Wonder where that version of you went?” You grab a few tissues from the counter and try to help him wipe his face clean.

But Caleb grabs the tissues from you instead. “I got it,” he says, stepping back and putting some distance between you two. Suddenly, you remember what the old lady said earlier.

“You got here quite early. Why did you just stand so far and watch her?”

He was ready to leave after seeing me, even just for a few minutes. Is he avoiding me?

You don’t want Caleb to avoid you. That’s one of the last things you wanted. It gives you a different type of hurt when Caleb pulls himself from being close to you—especially when you’re used to everything but being far from him. You’re scared of a rift forming between the two of you. What if the worst comes to worst and you...

You don’t want to finish that thought.

Caleb seems to know what’s going on inside your head with your silence hanging in the air. “That's why I don't want to stay,” he suddenly says. “I can’t stand seeing you between a rock and a hard place.”

“...but I don’t feel that way at all.” You move towards your phone to play the playlist Caleb shared with you back then. “You liked these songs, right? ” You gave him a smile. He just nods in return. “Wash your hands; dinner’s ready.” Distant.

That’s what Caleb feels right now—distant. 

And that makes your stomach churn.

-

As you and Caleb ate dinner, your phone started ringing—another voicemail. But from whom? Caleb takes a glance at your lit screen and seems to have noticed the sender’s ID. “Which friend is that? I don’t recall you mentioning him.” You don’t know what tone he’s using for that but he seems suspicious, if anything. “Hey, I heard you encountered a self-aware wanderer earlier today. Don’t forget to tell me about it when you’re free, okay?” the voice of your colleague said.

You flip your phone, not wanting to reply right now but Caleb notices it (of course he did). “Wouldn’t your friend be upset if you don’t reply to him right away? …Are you two close?” Caleb asks. You still don’t have a clue what he’s insinuating with his questions. But he looks quite bothered as his brows are slightly furrowed and his lips are pursed.

“Caleb, that’s a colleague.” You open your phone to show Caleb the proof. “See for yourself.” But Caleb doesn’t even bother looking and slides your phone back to you. “The food is getting cold; we should continue eating.”

The food tasted bland to your senses due to the unexplainable feelings brewing inside of you.

-

“Do you remember what the old lady said earlier?” Caleb asks. Taking a sip from the apple soda in your hand, you sat next to him on the couch. “I saw you were busy with evacuating people, so I didn’t really want to get in the way.”

“but the crowd was gone by two and I saw you at four. So... you arrived earlier than the lady mentioned.” Why didn’t you say so? you wanted to ask. “I guess we don’t have that many topics for small talk now.”

“Yeah. Excuses and lies, however, have seemed to increase. Don't you think? ” Caleb avoids your gaze. “People regret things they didn’t do. But sometimes, they also regret the things they did.” Caleb stays silent before replying. “People are full of contradictions,” he says.

“For a long, long time, I have known what I want.” You. He almost says it right after.

“But what if it causes you pain? If you don’t get any response, would you still go on?”

“Do you really think I haven’t struggled?” Perhaps he was mocking himself or he was mocking your question; you couldn’t point it out. It was your turn to be silent. “I’m well aware of what I’m doing,” Caleb then says.

“What about you? Are you aware?”

Despite sitting close to him, you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye. But you could feel Caleb’s gaze burning holes into you.

The rest of the night felt endless to you.

-

As the morning came, Caleb was nowhere to be found.

The blanket that you gave him to use last night lies neatly folded on the side of the couch, and that was the only trace left of his presence. “caleb…?” you call out.

You can’t leave me, not like this. You can’t just leave me without saying goodbye again.

The sudden knock on the door echoed in your apartment. You ran to the door hoping that it was Caleb—and just to your luck, it is. “I knew you’d be up around this hour.” You scan all over his face. There was sweat trickling near his brow and he had a towel wrapped around his neck. “I... I thought you left.”

“I was planning to. But then I remembered that I hadn’t made your breakfast yet so here I am again.”

“Oh… really?”

“Not really.”

What?

Caleb makes his way to your kitchen without another word. You stood blankly by your doorway as you let him in. His demeanor ever since you two reunited again has strangely changed. “What do you want to eat? I’ll do the cooking,” he asks. You snapped out of your thoughts and closed the door. 

“Anything, as long as you make it.”

-

“Did you have trouble sleeping last night?” you asked him while you were in the kitchen.

“I didn’t. I find it hard to sleep when I’m tossing and turning. But I'm used to it,” he replies, washing his hands before grabbing two eggs to crack. the sounds of the kitchen being used mixed with his voice that’s a bit raspy. “Have you never lost sleep over someone before?” Caleb suddenly asked back.

Wait. He says he was used to it… has he always been like this? He was met with silence as you were deep in thought. “Silence is always the best answer; perhaps that’s a no.” You still didn’t utter a word.

Caleb then cracks two eggs in a bowl. “Why aren’t you asking questions now, just like before?” He then grabbed a pair of chopsticks and started mixing them together. “Why didn’t you ask me who kept me up all night?”

“...I don’t want you to have so much on your mind whenever you’re with me.” What does that mean? I’m just spewing nonsense. “You say that as if I don’t want to end this sooner.” The toaster then pops the toasted bread out and you reach towards the cupboard to grab a plate. You set one down and as you were reaching for another one, Caleb’s hand meets yours and holds in place on the cupboard’s handle.

The cupboard shuts closed as he speaks. “Were you... avoiding my question? Were you afraid that I’d say it was you? Or were you scared that I’d say... It wasn’t you?” He says it slowly, emphasizing himself in his questions. “Shouldn’t you be making breakfast? Focus,” you told him, removing your hand from the cupboard above and starting to move away.

But Caleb placed his hand in your way, refusing to let you go. “Are you going to help me or not?” You turn around and now you’re properly facing him with your back against the counter behind you.

He grabs something from your back and reads it out loud. “Soda recipe: 1.5 ounces of apple syrup. Caleb’s favorite type.” He smirked at you as he read it. “So you did learn to make it for me after all. I never hear you say you miss me; do I take this as a sign that you do?” He flips the small piece of paper to show you.

“...whatever makes you happy, I guess.” You push him away by the shoulder and start making your exit from the kitchen. Caleb grabs your wrist before you could leave. He pulls you a bit closer to him, his other hand reaching to cradle your face. “You didn’t sleep that well either last night, did you?” He takes a step forward; you take a step back. It repeats until your back hits a dead end. Crap.

How ironic that you didn’t like how Caleb was running away from you yesterday yet now you’re the one running away from him? Just like a mystic force—a magnet, to be exact—Caleb keeps pulling you in. Again and again and again.

“For whom?”

“For…”

“No rush. Take your time to come up with a reason.” He places your hand on his chest and grabs for an apple from behind you. “but right now... If delicious things aren’t eaten in time, they become stale.”

Time. 

It was always about time, wasn’t it? It makes you wonder if you and Caleb had enough time. You once thought that time ran out for you both once—but now that he’s back... What exactly were you supposed to expect? supposed to do?

Do you indulge in your selfishness and give in to temptation?

Or do you pull away from it?

Caleb nears the apple to your face; you use your other hand to pull it closer but Caleb pulls himself along with it and now the distance between you is even shorter than it was before. You could feel his hand brushing against your hair above your shoulder, holding himself steady as he leans in.

He lowers his hand to hold yours, as you’re the only one holding the apple now. Caleb leans in further and just as your lips were about to touch—

He leans down and bites the apple in your hand instead.

-

The interaction you had with Caleb in your kitchen made you realize that you started looking forward to Caleb’s sudden visits to Lincoln without even realizing it.

“I’m well aware of what I’m doing.” 

“What about you? Are you aware?"

You suddenly get it now.

When you accompany Caleb to the station, you don’t easily leave him alone. It was like when he was in college all over again when you’d follow him because you were afraid he’d get lost (but if you both knew that you were more prone to losing your way sometimes). 

The spare key in your pocket had started to grow warm with how much you fiddled with it. “When will you be visiting Linkon again?” Caleb stays silent at that. “Does your silence mean you don’t want to visit anytime soon...?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because if you haven’t even thought of seeing me again, then all those things you said... aren’t really important.” Caleb steps closer and leans down a bit to your eye level. “Look, pipsqueak, I’m not the type to hold back when I like something.” He was right; you knew that fact very well. Caleb sighs before standing up straight again.

“Why would I want to leave when, compared to you, I’m better off acting as if I don’t care?” he says. You lift the spare key from your pocket, hearing the familiar sounds of metal hitting against each other as it shook from the movement. You grabbed Caleb’s hand and laid the warm keys on his palm. 

“Then find a way to come back home.”

His breath hitched at your words.

“You don’t need an excuse to see me, Caleb. You know I’d always welcome you home with open arms.”

He puts the keys in his pocket with a smile before grabbing your shoulders and turning you around. “You should go back now. Let me watch you leave,” he says. You attempted to turn your head back at him in protest but he teasingly used his index finger to stop you. 

“Don’t look back. If you do, it’ll just be harder for me to leave you here.”

SEVENTH: CAN YOU CARRY A LITTLE OF THIS SIN TOO?

The blinding beams of sunlight shone upon you, stirring you awake. Slowly opening your eyes, you took in your surroundings. You were currently in a familiar bedroom, and the other side of the bed was empty when you woke up. While your head was slightly pounding, you also had no recollection of what happened the previous night.

You suddenly hear the door creaking open. Shooting a glance at who it could be, you saw a man dressed in some sort of military uniform taking strides towards you. “Huh..?” you say, voice still groggy after just waking up. He puts a hand on your forehead, seemingly checking your temperature. “Your fever’s gone down. Just have some more rest.”

He pulls back slightly, but the distance between you two is still close. “I asked the association if you could take a sick leave. So, whether you want to rest here at home or maybe go outside for a quick walk for the next few days, I’ll be here to keep you company.”

You look at him, confused by what’s happening at the moment. “What are you… talking about? Is this some sort of dream? ” you asked him. The man was taken aback for a bit, but he regains his composure immediately. Sunlight continues to bleed through the window, gently hitting his face. yet his expression...

His expression still seemed like he was getting absorbed by something dark.

“It's okay—it’s okay if you forget,” he says, shifting his gaze on the ground. “Even if you don’t remember anything... I can always say it again.” The man then sits on the bed as you feel the sudden dip in the mattress from his weight. He then gently grabs her hand, rubbing soothing circles across her knuckles while shifting his gaze back to you.

The man thinks for a moment. He doesn’t know which is more agonizing—to forget or to be forgotten?

“I'm Caleb. I’ll always be...” Before you could comprehend the rest of his words, your head started ringing. You reach out to rub your temple as your mind starts to suddenly feel sluggish. it’s as if… something that you should know—or rather, something you shouldn’t forget—was being kept away from you.

What happened?

-

10 days ago.

The announcement through the train station regarding the arrival of the train to Skyhaven echoes as you drag your luggage and take your exit. Looking around, you decided to take a quick picture of a fast food restaurant you saw and send it to Caleb.

(name): [attachment: one image] (name): Guess where I am right now? :P 

Caleb: You’re in Skyhaven?

You turned off your phone and decided to take in your surroundings. It had been two months since you last came to Skyhaven—and the last time you went here was when you secretly infiltrated the farspace fleet to investigate the whereabouts of a fragment of an aether core. 

It had been two months since you saw Caleb again, alive in the flesh.

Entering Caleb’s home from Skyhaven, Caleb speaks. “We can talk about the work stuff later. You should cancel your hotel reservation first. and then...” His voice trails off as he looks like he was considering something.

Caleb then spreads out his arms at you. “And then… what?” You tilt your head in confusion. “You know what I mean.” A smile paints itself on your lips as soon as you realize what he meant. Walking closer to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your face against his chest.

“I missed you, Caleb.”

“Welcome home.” 

-

The air is suddenly filled with a sound—something flies by. Caleb uses his evol to stop a bullet in front of his forehead as a mist blocks her view.

"Get under cover!” Realizing he’s the target, you urged him. He stopped you as you reached for your revolver and attempted to drag him to safety. Caleb simply said, "There's no point in hiding," after glancing at his palm. This is only the initial action.

He notices that the true target is somewhere else—this had been a diversion—as officers recover control of the situation. He looks toward the alpha and beta fleet bases, his hand clenched. Caleb asks that you remain behind and is about to call Liam for assistance when you stop him. “I'm your best option; you can't trust anyone else, Caleb."

Caleb pauses. "They have taken over one of the bases. I have dispatched individuals to the alpha base. Please check the beta base for me.” For a minute, your eyes meet. He nods after he pauses. "Liam will accompany you."

"Please be careful," he tells you.

“You too,” she answers.

Yet doubt seems to have clouded your mind and you find yourself asking Caleb before you left. "Caleb, you really need me for this, right?" he answers with a simple "yes."

It was pouring tonight.

As the takeover turns out to be a hoax, you could observe now that you realized Caleb made you leave to protect you. Why does it feel like we’re back to square one? More than a dozen planes pierce the night sky as they race across it.

"Are those reinforcements for Caleb?" you asked Liam, Caleb’s adjutant.

"Making you leave was for the best," Liam replies. When you realized that he knew everything, you felt nauseous and angry that Caleb forced you to leave. "The colonel can only put his trust in you, but your presence would influence his choices. Please don't hold this against him," Liam adds.

Despite your desire, you were unable to hold it against him. Caleb was just being overprotective. “Liam, you’re Caleb’s adjutant. Do you trust him?” you couldn’t help but ask. “I don’t need the colonel’s trust. I only need his orders.”

“So if he orders you to leave your loved ones, you’d do it?”

“That's precisely why I can stand by his side and serve him.”

You almost scoff at his answer. “If the chip were placed inside of me, how would Caleb react? "You then ask Liam. “He would do anything to get rid of it, but you don’t have to put yourself through the pain,” Liam responds.

As Liam bid his farewell with a salute and started to make his way back, you were now alone. You don’t get it. Why does it feel like nothing actually changed? Like all your efforts from getting close to him before were a waste? You just wanted to help him. You could fight—you’re a hunter for fuck’s sake! 

But every time you were dispatched into Skyhaven, you felt so useless at your job.

The toring chip you stole from Caleb’s office is still hidden in your shoe with the implanter. With one simple press, the remaining distance between you and Caleb would be gone. “You don’t have to put yourself through the pain.” Liam’s words echo in your head. Maybe it’s a bit too late for you to say that, Liam. Because I have already made my decision.

Perhaps to love is to share the pain with them, even if they push you away.

-

The implantation was swift. You felt weak as you sat on the bench. Imagining Caleb’s reaction if he ever found out what you just did sends a nasty chill down your spine. This will be your secret to bear alone. If Caleb had his own secrets from you, then you would have yours. After all, that’s only fair, isn’t it?

“I have never kept a secret from you, not even once. and I don’t plan on doing so anytime soon.”

Just how ironic do his words get even more? He made an unspoken promise of never keeping a secret from you. But ever since you two reunited in Skyhaven… that’s all that he’s been doing.

You then hear footsteps pattering against the rain puddles on the ground, and the rain above you stops. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere; why didn’t you go back home? ” Caleb heard softly asks you. You look up to him. “Liam shouldn’t have left you alone in the street.”

“I walked here by myself. It has nothing to do with him.” Caleb was always good at finding you whenever you played hide and seek. and you would always go home together after playing. but this time... You don’t want to go back to the place he called “home” with him. 

You point out the Asiatic apple trees to him, eyes admiring the slowly falling petals dragged by the rain. Caleb then recalls the Asiatic apple trees he’d see back in the train station in Linkon (they were always in bloom whenever you sent him off). “I didn’t know you liked Asiatic apples,” he then says.

“I don’t. because Asiatic apple flowers take you away from me, and I don’t like that.” 

“No one can take me away from you.”

The dead and odorless trees serve as a quiet reflection of Caleb's own personality: aloof, stern, and unrelenting. Caleb softly asks you once more, "Come back home with me." Your voice is tinged with defiance as you look up to face him. “How long will you keep me imprisoned now? "

His voice cracks with a subtle anguish as his eyes drop to the hairpin in her palm. He gently grabs it from you and pins it back on your head. "I'll spend my entire life looking for solutions if each problem drives me farther away from you, but until that final moment, we’ll always be together.”

"What will you do if people come looking for me?" she says.

Caleb doesn’t think twice. “In that case, I’ll hold a funeral they can attend. so they’ll think you’ll be gone forever. “Let’s go back home; you might catch a cold.” He extends his hand towards you, and you accept it. But you refuse to move when he tries to guide you away. Caleb shoots you a deadly and stern look. You pull Caleb down to your level, your lips exactly by his ear.

“Don’t you find it funny that you’re worried about me catching a cold after discussing my fucking funeral? ” you whisper. Caleb pulls back, “So if I don’t show concern, does that mean it’s not genuine? Is that it? ”

a hand reaches up to your face. “You can’t convince yourself to hate me with every fiber of your being. Wouldn’t you agree? ” His hand travels from your cheek to the back of your head, pushing you towards his chest. “I’ll eventually find a way to make things right... as long as... you’re by my side.”

“...Caleb, I hate it when you’re like this.” But you know that you could never hate him. Wrapping your arms around him, you whisper in his ear again. “but I hate it more when you’re always able to make me change my mind.”

His breath hitches at that and Caleb lets himself fall weak to his knees. “i’m… sorry. I just feel like... I don’t know how to take care of you anymore.” His voice breaks and you could feel him weaken against your touch. You reached for Caleb’s face, panic rising inside of you. “Caleb? Caleb, what’s wrong? ” His eyes started to become half-lidded and he looked at you in a daze.

Caleb collapses on your shoulder, his hat slowly sliding away from his head. He replies with a groan, and his voice is evidently weaker. “Let’s... go home.” 

Raindrops cascade down his face, and the colonel’s vision fades into black. 

-

You couldn't trust anyone in the fleet, so you exerted all of your strength to get him home. You two collapse into Caleb's bed together, your bodies heavy with fatigue. and your eyes follow the tiny, scarlet veins beneath his skin as you stare at him.

A cold, mechanical voice reverberates around the room. “Warning... Emotional fluctuations have surpassed the threshold limit…” Caleb looks like he’s going through a nightmare, yanking his collar off as he mumbles to himself. “Don’t… take her away…” he pleads. You reassure him that you aren’t going to leave, though you have a faint doubt that it would work.

“Commencing chip activation process... Executing mandatory erasure... of neurons...” the machine’s voice continues. Mandatory erasure? No, no, no, no—Caleb sweats, his body spasming as it fights against something far beyond his control.

With a horrible shock, you understand that this is exactly the same as what Kevi experienced when you last visited him in the garden. You shake and scramble desperately, looking for a button on his body to put an end to the chaos. 

You can’t take him away, not again. Don’t take him away from me. Tears slightly blurred your vision as you searched for a button that might not even exist in the first place. You just wanted his pain to stop.

Caleb suddenly opens his eyes, and you are shoved back onto the bed. “Ow—Caleb! ”

Above your head, he pulls your wrists and presses them on something rigid and cold. yet it feels more like a machine's grip than his hand. “Why are you struggling? ” he asks, his voice laced with confusion. “Are you scared of me? Do I feel like a stranger to you? ”

"Program... complete,” the machine said.

“How could you possibly understand... my guilt and sin...” he whispers. And then he collapses onto you.

You slept next to Caleb for the night but the nightmares about him returned.

-

The morning after he fainted, Caleb was sitting in the living room, staring at something.

Discreetly, you approached him and put your palm to his forehead to feel the warmth of his skin. Your fingers move to his right arm and give it a light squeeze. "Are you feeling better?" you asked. 

He glances up at you. Caleb whispers, "I noticed you lying next to me when I woke up this morning." He's staring at a picture on the coffee table when you spot it. Your heart hurts as you lift it up. It was a picture of you kissing his cheek when he graduated from the Aerospace Academy.

With a gentle touch, he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear after brushing it from your temple. “So…” After tracing your jaw and raising your chin, his fingers then lightly touch your cheek. “Who are you?” he asks in a low voice, as if he's looking for something he lost.

Caleb appears to be soulless, his memories erased. He no longer even recognizes himself. He continues speaking, "I remember the way you made me feel," with a hint of emotion in his voice. From under his collar, he retrieves the necklace. He looks at you and says, "I remember you gave me this. Were we... close like this?"

You didn’t know how to answer that.

Your relationship with him couldn’t be described in just simple words. But the thought strikes you like lightning in your mind—Caleb will believe anything you say. Let me be selfish just this once. Let me have this opportunity while it’s presented in front of me.

“You’re the most important person to me, and I’m the most important person to you.”

“Caleb, I’m the only one in this world who truly knows you.” You then continue. He repeats what you said, making it sink into him. “you’ll never leave me.” You can’t leave me. “Just like... the vines that cling to a tree. We shared a part of our lives with each other. So, we’ll never be apart.”

He looks at you, eyes filled with guilt. “I'm sorry. I can’t remember anything.”

“It's okay if you can’t remember right now. I’ll always be here for you.” You pull him into a tight hug, your lips near his earlobe. 

“Just like what you’ve always done for me.”

-

Caleb, who is now suffering from amnesia, was a blank page in a book that you thought you could write anything you wanted on (if anyone was going to rewrite him, it’s going to be you, and only you). You kept everything hidden from him—his phone, clothes, communication device—anything that could disturb him from this dream.

Three days later, it appeared that you had both fallen into a dreamy, infantile state. Like when you initially met in the shelter, the world outside these walls held no significance for them.

The amusement bustled with excitement. However, the excitement of the rides quickly made you feel sick. Caleb asked out loud, "Is it safe for you to hunt the deepspace when you're like this?" as he watched you anxiously. Holding the ice cream he had just purchased, he crouched next to you.

“Deepspace hunters don’t actually hunt in deep space,” said you, who was still recuperating. A little perplexed, Caleb questioned again, "So what am I?”

You extended your arm to hook her index finger onto his. A smile tugged across your lips as you answered, "You're the deepspace hunter's sidekick."

Sitting on a train ride offered by the amusement park, your watch vibrated as your eyes started to close shut. It was a reminder that the association needed an update and that your task was due in three days.

Caleb gave you a quick glance while wearing a knowing expression. He taunted, "You took my phone, so I'll take away your watch." Caleb noticed the little shift in your demeanor as your face fell at the idea. “You don’t like the sound of that?"

You only gave a mute shake of your head. “I never knew your hands were so big,” you then say, smoothly changing the topic. Caleb lets you play with his fingers as you rub and tug around them. He takes his as a chance to interlock his fingers with yours. “We’re both grown-ups now, huh?” you then say.

“Yeah. Does that mean we can finally do all the things we used to want to do but couldn’t before? ” He leans closer.

“We couldn’t do? Or do you mean things we wouldn’t dare to do? ” Challenging him, you also lean closer. 

“What if I dare? What would you do?” 

His face is so close. you thought. You could feel the heat rushing through your ears; your head started to throb again. “Prove it.” He feigns hurt in his expression. “I thought everything I did was proof of my sincerity?” 

Caleb proceeds to press his forehead against yours. Your heart hammers against your chest and your hands are still interlocked. Boundaries were being crossed; lines were being blurred out. Your mind becomes hazy with everything that’s happening. and to top it all off—

“I like you,” Caleb whispers.

In this moment, you realize—everything has changed. You’ll be his and he’ll be yours. All you knew since yesterday is that everything has changed.

You see the aircraft from the fleet approaching, and the end of the sweet dream was coming way too quick for your liking. “Caleb, let’s go home.” You urged him—he refused. You try to hop off of the moving train yet with a blink of an eye, Caleb is holding your wrist again. 

“Where did this come from? the chip?” he asks.

No—it can’t be over just yet. please. Let me be selfish for a little while more.

You could see Caleb’s lips moving yet a piercing ring takes over your eardrums, drowning his voice out. “They’re here, Caleb. They—they can’t. They can’t take you... away from me...” Your body feels weaker as pain crashes repeatedly into you in waves.

Everything fades into black after that.

-

You never liked Caleb wearing that fucking uniform. Because every time that he does, he’s like a different person. You don’t recognize the Caleb that wears the colonel’s uniform. 

Yet here he is, standing before you dressed in that goddamn uniform, his expression unreadable. Is he mad? Definitely. Are you going to die tonight? Maybe. Do you mind Caleb being the one who wields the gun at your death? …Not really. If anything, it’s better that you die by his hands.

“You remember everything, don’t you?” He doesn’t answer; you press on further. “When? when we were at the amusement park? Or was it before that?” Was him losing memories even real in the first place?

“I haven’t even asked my questions yet. When did you get that Turing chip implanted?” The unwelcomed yet familiar waves of pain surge through your head; you bite your lip to stop yourself from screaming. Caleb removes his glove on one hand and rubs his thumb over your swollen lip. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

His expression remains unreadable. “You should rest. The surgery is being prepared and the pain will be over soon.”

“Caleb... Ever since we reunited, have you been enduring all of this? Why didn’t you tell me?” You didn’t have the strength to use your voice so you could only whisper to him. Caleb replies in a softer voice—it’s as if seeing you like this torments him (it does, and maybe he’ll finally understand why you did it in the first place). “If telling you the truth means watching you willingly get caught up in this mess...”

“Then I never would’ve shown up in your life again.” The glint in his eyes shows desperation.

“I don’t understand... They changed you. They treat you like a pawn and make you do all of those awful deeds. But—but you belong to me! You’re mine—you're the person I cherish the most—how could they do this to you?”

Caleb doesn’t reply to that. He insists that you rest but you broke free from your restraints before he could stop you. You get up and stumble towards the door but your legs can only bring you there as your vision becomes unsteady. Caleb is pulling you away from the door and towards the bed you were restrained on earlier. “Let go of me!” you shout, pulling his hand and biting hard on it.

However, he pulls you into his arms and keeps you there instead of letting go. His voice is firm yet gentle as he carries you back to the bed. “In order to prevent you from biting your tongue when you had a fever when we were kids, I let you bite my hand. Do you remember that? You gave me such a severe bite that the mark lingered for two weeks.” He chuckles at the memory. “I always wanted to settle the score with you when we got older.”

Your expression is determined and keen as you look at him. “This time, I’ll be the one who’s going to settle the score.” You straddle him and push him down without saying anything more. A glint of amusement shines in his eyes at your actions.

“What do you want?”

You lean closer to him, your ear almost resting by his chest. Your fingers trace the edges of his uniform. “I want to peel open your heart to see what secrets are hidden within.” He watches your finger slide down. You then grab his chin and make him look at you. “As the farspace fleet’s colonel, you haven’t been put into a trial like this, have you?”

“A trial? What are you accusing me of?" He plays along. 

“You… You killed my Caleb.” Your voice breaks. You lean in closer, lips being only centimeters apart. But you pull away, tugging and discarding the layers of his uniform instead. “The Caleb in this uniform... I don’t like it…” you say, fighting back the tears from blurring your vision. You wanted Caleb gone in that uniform. You wanted the old Caleb back in your arms.

Just where did it all go wrong? Perhaps it was the explosion that triggered everything that has changed. The Caleb that you grew up with, the one that you knew—the one that you loved—feels like a stranger to you. It is only when he’s out of the thick layers of his uniform that you could recognize that maybe—just maybe—this is the Caleb that you love.

Caleb doesn’t stop you from what you’re doing. Instead, he caresses your face, his touch being warm against your cheek. “Good girl,” he whispers. “You should get some sleep now, pipsqueak,” he says a bit louder this time. You gave him a kiss on his forehead and he avoided your gaze right after.

“Look at you; you’re like a sinner who’s confessing.” Caleb holds your hand and presses a soft kiss to your fingertips. Your hands that he had always wanted to hold without reason—perhaps it was his time to become a bit selfish now.

“Then can you carry a little of this sin too? Don’t leave me in this loneliness any longer.”

You feel yourself losing your balance above Caleb. The pain that was throbbing in your head ever since earlier has intensified tenfold, leaving you to go limp.

“It’ll be just like when we were kids. You’ll wake up and you won’t be in any pain or remember any trace of it.”

-

The blinding beams of sunlight shone upon you, stirring you awake. Slowly opening your eyes, you took in your surroundings. You were currently in a familiar bedroom and the other side of the bed was empty when you woke up. 

You suddenly hear the door creaking open. Shooting a glance at who it could be, you recognized the man dressed in some sort of military uniform as he takes strides towards you. “Huh..?” You say, voice still groggy after just waking up. You shield your eyes from the glaring sunlight and the dust particles being visible in the air. Caleb raises his hand to do so instead.

Caleb… just what happened to us?

“I asked the association if you could take a sick leave. So, whether you want to rest here at home or maybe go outside for a quick walk for the next few days, I’ll be here to keep you company.”

You look at him, confused by what’s happening at the moment. Your eyes then trail down to a peeking mark below his cuff. “Is that... a bite mark? Caleb, what—what happened? ” you asked him. Caleb hesitates to answer the question. Sunlight continues to bleed through the window, gently hitting his face. yet his expression...

His expression still seemed like he was in sorrow.

“It's okay if you forget. You should eat something first,” he says, grabbing a bowl of porridge after he helps you sit up on the bed. After a few spoons, you didn’t feel like eating anymore. As Caleb rises to put the bowl away, anxiety hits you as you grab his sleeve. “Where are you going?” 

“I'm just putting the bowl away.” Caleb looked like he was about to say something else but refused to do so. “Don’t worry. I won’t go anywhere until you fall asleep,” he reassures you.

“Caleb... You’ll always stay by my side, right?” you asked him in return.

He doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

You tugged on the collar of his uniform, pulling him into the bed with you as you straddled him. The scene feels familiar to Caleb—almost. Your fingers trail down his neck, tracing his Adam’s apple before pressing gently on the center of his collarbone. “I wonder if I should put a bell around your neck. That way, you won’t be able to escape. What do you think?”

You didn’t forget anything ever since you implanted the toring chip inside of you. You remembered every single story you had to come up with on the spot for Caleb. You remembered Caleb whispering, “I like you,” on the train—how comfortable the breeze was while you were both in the amusement park.

But the amusement park is now closed.

EIGHTH: TO LOVE IS TO INDULGE YOURSELF IN SELFISHNESS.

Caleb rarely gets sick.

You were the sickly type between the two of you—always catching yourself a cold or a fever so easily. And every time you got sick, Caleb was always there beside you. He didn’t hesitate to help Gran back then when it came to making you feel better. He’s the one who usually monitors your temperature; he’s the one who really makes sure that you have taken your medications. You don’t seem to recall that many memories where Caleb gets sick.

But now... you’re here, against the door to his bedroom, helpless at the fact that Caleb is hiding himself from you because he has a fever. You keep knocking on his door, thinking that maybe being persistent would do the trick. “I haven’t finished reading a book and I think I left it there, Caleb.” You lied, still trying to get him to open the door.

Shuffling was then heard from inside and Caleb shoved the book into your chest. “Take it and stop knocking, pip-squeak.” You try to pry yourself into his room with the gap made by him from opening the door but it is no use. But the close distance with Caleb’s body easily helps you in finding out his current state.

“Caleb, you’re burning!” He stops you and takes your hand when you attempt to touch his forehead. “I’ve taken some medication. I’ll be fine, pips.” 

“At least leave the door unlocked; let me take care of you this time.” 

“Have you ever seen me be defeated by something as small as this? I can handle it,” he replies, though his voice sounds raspy as he speaks. “With the state of your voice now, that doesn’t sound very reassuring,” you say back. “Don’t you have other stuff to do? Focus on that.” 

“What? Hey—Caleb!” The door slams shut in front of your face.

Fine then. Let’s see how long you can handle this tough guy act up.

-

You ponder unsuccessfully throughout the afternoon how to persuade him to open the door. But in the end, you chose to prepare a meal for him. It’s the first time he’s stayed home, and you’re taking care of things around the house. You ended up making porridge and knocking on his bedroom door.

“Caleb? I made some porridge. Do you want some?”

No response. 

You then lie, claiming that you got scratched by a stray cat while you left for a quick walk earlier. “I’m pretty sure you said stray cats always welcomed you with open paws. Remember to review your past lies before you tell a new one next time.” You hear him from the door. You knock harder against his door. “If you don’t unlock the door, I swear I’ll pick this goddamn lock.”

OTTO suddenly appears next to you. “Here’s a friendly reminder. When you’re asking for help, you should gently approach them,” the artificial intelligence says. Is that directed at me or is it directed at Caleb? But OTTO is right. Taking a deep breath, you ask Caleb from the other side of his bedroom door again.

“Caleb… what are you afraid of?”

You hear a click as you place the tray on the floor. At last, he opens the door. You immediately head inside his bedroom with the tray of porridge and check on his condition immediately. “I told you, I’m fine,” he then says. His voice sounded a bit better now—but it was still evident that he was sick. “How was I supposed to believe that when you keep locking yourself in here?”

He lets out a chuckle that has self-mockery in it. “How can I keep the tough guy act if I let you see me like this?”

“You should eat this porridge first and then take your medications for your fever after. Where’s your thermometer? Let’s check your temp,” you say, stirring the porridge. “While I’m used to you being bossy, I don’t really feel like playing along today.” You take his temperature anyway. 

39.2 degrees Celsius. It’s still high.

“Your fever is still high. You should—” Caleb then cuts you off. “It was better this morning. I honestly feel like a champ right now.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re a fucking champ for acting tough; I’ll give you that one.”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

“Oh, so now you want to talk about this? Do you really want me to answer that question, Caleb?”

He begins recalling all the times he fulfilled his promises to you back in the past. You stop him before he could continue further. “Enough, Caleb. You said you’d never hurt me—you promised me that.”

“Do you feel like everything I do is supposed to hurt you?” he asks.

Not really. “Your inability to believe that I can protect myself hurts me. Your refusal to let me share your burdens with you hurts me. You hurting and letting yourself feel the pain indirectly hurts me too. And lastly, you pushing yourself away—that’s what hurts me the most.” Caleb stays silent at that.

“If you think I’m wrong, then you’re free to correct me, Caleb.” His attention was then on the bowl of porridge placed on your lap, waiting to be taken by him. Caleb doesn’t correct you from your earlier statement.

-

He takes deep breaths as you both stay silent in his bed.

Caleb is someone you can’t be any more familiar with. You’ve known him your life—yet why is it possible that he still feels like a stranger to you sometimes? “Pips, I have to tell you something,” he then says. “I’m listening,” you tell him.

“I’m sorry that I upset you. You were just trying to help and I…” He seems like he couldn’t finish that sentence so you do it for him. “You were scared, right? Scared that I’ll see your weakness.” Your hand lies on top of Caleb’s chest as it heaves up and down. “You wanna see my weakness? Well, now you have.” Caleb’s ears turn red at that. “Are your ears red because of your fever?” You ask, reaching a hand to touch his earlobe. “Let’s go with that.” 

You cup his cheek to check his temperature again. There was something different in Caleb’s gaze—like it was full of admiration. Softness. Love. Your other hand reaches up to cup his other cheek, pulling him forward so you can put your forehead against his.

Flashbacks of when you and Caleb had your foreheads like this flash in your mind. Once while you were nine; once while you were fifteen; once back in the old store you recently helped in. “You’re still not showing me your weakness, Caleb.” you whisper before pulling away. Your soft breath tingles his nose as his breath hitches at your short distance.

He puts a hand against your mouth as he leans back in slowly. But Caleb quickly pulls himself away before anything could happen.

“I never hid anything from you. But you have—in fact, you hid a lot of things from me. Don’t you think that’s a little unfair?” How many secrets can you keep? Caleb looks away from your gaze before replying. “I can’t have any weaknesses. Then you’ll feel safe in relying on me.”

“But I don’t want to stand behind you—I want to stand beside you, Caleb.” He smiles at that. He places your hand on his chest. His heartbeat beats out a steady rhythm. “Do you feel it? This is my weakness. She’s here. For a long time, she’s been here.” 

Caleb…

“I’m afraid that if you see me at my lowest, you won’t believe I can always protect you.” He soon admits, his voice a bit quieter than it was earlier. Your eyes trace every feature that it could take in. “A lot of people say the knife that hurts the most isn’t wielded by your enemies. The people closest to you have it. We’re the closest people to each other. We’d never hurt each other.”

“Are you afraid that I’ll hurt you?”

“Do you think that you could hurt me like this?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he cups your cheek, fingers rubbing your cheekbone. “I want you to stay here. Stay with me. Please, spend the next hundred years with me.” He sounds restrained—like he was still holding himself back.

Even in the most vulnerable and precious moments together, Caleb is still holding himself back from it—especially when it could be more. “I…” you trail off.

Maybe to love him is to ignore the boundaries—to give in to the temptation. 

“I love you, Caleb.”

His eyes widen at your confession. He could feel his face and ears burning up again. Caleb’s eyes never leave yours as it drowns itself in your gaze. He looks like he was looking for some proof that it was just a dream—that he’ll just wake up (or perhaps he was waiting for you to take it back). Caleb was speechless.

“I have always loved you. But as we grew older, the love changed. Everything has changed. Our careers, our lives, and our decisions. I held myself back at first, knowing that we might regret it, risking something so sacred between us. But as time went by, I started becoming selfish. I… I just started to indulge myself. And then I started wanting more—but I couldn’t exactly get more now.” You chuckled at that.

“I’ll probably regret this tomorrow morning. But I honestly just can’t keep it to myself anymore. Because I love you, Caleb. I love you so much that maybe, just maybe, if I loved you any less, I might be able to talk about it more.”

Caleb doesn’t reply to your confession in words.

He replies in actions.

A hand gently grabs the nape of your neck; you could feel his hand trembling against your skin as he does. His hands feel warm—whether it was due to his fever or not, you have no clue—and his touch is as gentle as it always is whenever he touches you. Slowly pulling you in, it finally happens.

You finally feel what Caleb’s lips are like as they press gently against yours. 

He pulls away, not letting it last any longer. Straddling him in the process so you could be more comfortable, he stares at you in a daze. You pull him in again for another kiss. And another. And then another. The pressure of his lips against yours felt electrifying as your arms wrapped around his neck as his hands found themselves on your waist. There was a slight push and pull going on as your shadows, as reflected by the moonlight, blended into one.

When you finally pull away from Caleb, that’s when he decides to speak. “I… I think about you all the time. I long to see and be close to you. I can hardly sleep because I miss you. There’s this longing I can barely contain, and I fear it’s going to drown me. But perhaps that’s okay—because that would mean I’m drowning in you.”

“I love you too,” he finally says.

To love Caleb is to be selfish.

[kathaelipwse]

Dancing in the Moonlight | H.Hyunjin

Genre: Best Friends to Lovers

Synopsis: A late-night walk through the quiet city turns into something more when Hyunjin, ever the romantic, asks you to dance under the streetlights. As music drifts from a nearby café, confessions slip through the cracks of a long-time friendship—changing everything in the soft glow of the moonlight.

Warnings: Fluff and more FLUFF!

Word Count: 2.3K

Authors Note: Hyunjin as the bsf to lover trope- ahh I dunno this has my heart lmao-

The city breathed differently at night. It exhaled the day's anxieties, replacing them with a hushed, almost reverent calm. The harsh lines of buildings softened, streetlights cast a warm, forgiving glow, and the air carried the faintest scent of jasmine from hidden gardens. You walked beside Hyunjin, the silence between you a comfortable, familiar language.

Your hands, tucked deep into the oversized sleeves of your favorite hoodie, occasionally brushed against his. It was a fleeting, almost accidental touch, but it sent a shiver down your spine each time. Hyunjin, his hair tousled by the evening breeze, seemed lost in his own thoughts, his hands buried in his pockets.

“I can’t believe we’ve been walking for hours,” you mused, tilting your head up to look at him. The streetlights painted his profile in a soft, golden light, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the gentle curve of his lips.

Hyunjin grinned, glancing down at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Regretting it?”

“No,” you answered too quickly, then bit your lip, a blush warming your cheeks. “I like nights like this.”

He hummed in agreement, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. “Me too.”

That was the thing about Hyunjin. Being with him was effortless. There were no awkward pauses, no forced laughter. Just the comforting silence of shared history, the unspoken understanding that came from years of friendship. Best friends, since childhood. That's what you were.

Or, at least, that’s what you had always told yourself.

You remembered the day you met. You were both awkward, lanky kids, new to the neighborhood, and he had offered you a half-eaten bag of chips, a gesture of unexpected kindness that had blossomed into an unbreakable bond. You had shared secrets whispered under starry skies, dreams sketched on crumpled notebooks, and the bittersweet ache of first heartbreaks.

But somewhere along the way, the lines had blurred. The laughter felt a little lighter, the touches lingered a little longer, and the late-night talks turned into confessions whispered in the dark.

“Wait,” Hyunjin suddenly stopped walking, and you nearly stumbled, your thoughts interrupted.

“What?” you asked, blinking at him in confusion.

He held up a finger, listening intently. “Do you hear that?”

Frowning, you focused. The faint melody of a song drifted from a cafe a few meters away. It was a slow, romantic tune, a melancholic piano melody overlaid with a soft, breathy vocal. You gave him a questioning look. “Yeah…?”

A mischievous grin spread across his lips, transforming his features. “Dance with me.”

Your brain short-circuited. “What?”

“Dance with me,” he repeated, already reaching for your hand, his fingers warm and strong against yours.

“In the middle of the street?!” you exclaimed, glancing around the empty street.

“Why not?” He chuckled, his fingers lacing with yours, effortlessly pulling you closer. “No one’s here but us.”

Your heart stuttered, a fluttery, anxious thing trapped in your chest. But you let him guide you anyway. Because that’s what you always did—let yourself be swept away by Hyunjin’s spontaneity, his infectious energy, his unwavering confidence.

He placed one hand on your waist, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you, and suddenly, you were swaying, feet moving in sync to the distant music. The world around you blurred, the city lights fading into a hazy backdrop. There was only him—the warmth of his palm against your skin, the soft pull of his touch, the way his eyes shone under the streetlights, reflecting the moonlight.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, trying to sound exasperated, but your voice betrayed you, tinged with affection.

Hyunjin smirked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “But you love me anyway.”

Your breath hitched. He said it so easily, so playfully, like it meant nothing. Like it wasn’t the exact thing that had been haunting your thoughts for months.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes to hide the way your pulse quickened. “Debatable.”

“Liar.” He twirled you suddenly, catching you off guard, and a laugh bubbled from your lips before you could stop it.

You hated how effortlessly he could do this—make your heart race, make you forget where the line between friendship and something more even existed. You weren’t sure when it started, this feeling. Maybe it had always been there, a seed planted in the fertile ground of your friendship, nurtured by shared laughter and whispered secrets. Or maybe it was a more recent bloom, a sudden realization that the boy you had known for so long had become a man who made your heart ache with longing.

You remembered a time in high school, during a particularly chaotic party, when you had found yourself alone with Hyunjin on the rooftop. The city lights had spread out beneath you like a glittering carpet, and the air had been thick with unspoken words. He had looked at you then, his eyes filled with a tenderness that had made your breath catch in your throat. But then, he had laughed, a nervous, self-deprecating laugh, and the moment had passed, leaving you with a lingering sense of what could have been.

And now, with his hand in yours, with the city quiet around you, with your heart screaming at you to say something, to do something—it became impossible to ignore.

Then, mid-spin, he whispered it, his voice barely audible above the music.

"I think I’m in love with you."

You froze, your feet rooted to the spot.

The words hung in the air, fragile and weightless, like a snowflake about to melt on your tongue. The music seemed to fade away, the city lights dimming, leaving you in a bubble of stunned silence.

Your feet stopped moving, but Hyunjin didn’t let go. His grip on your hand tightened, his expression unreadable, a mix of vulnerability and raw honesty. His eyes, usually filled with playful mischief, burned with something raw, something real.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Your brain refused to process the moment, refused to believe it was real. Hyunjin was your best friend. He wasn’t supposed to say things like that. He wasn’t supposed to make your heart feel like it was about to burst.

“Y-you…” You swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper. “You mean that?”

A soft chuckle left his lips, but there was no humor in it. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time. I just didn’t know how to say it until now.”

Your chest ached, emotions crashing into you all at once. Part of you wanted to scream, You’re an idiot. I’ve been in love with you too. But another part of you—the scared part—wondered what would happen next. If things would change. If you’d lose him.

Hyunjin, always so perceptive, must’ve seen the hesitation in your eyes, because he exhaled softly and stepped closer, his free hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was gentle, reassuring.

“I don’t need an answer right now,” he said gently. “I just… I couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

Your breath wavered. “Hyunjin…��

“Just…” His forehead rested against yours, his voice barely a whisper. “Tell me if there’s even the slightest chance you feel the same.”

Your heart clenched, a painful, beautiful ache. “You idiot,” you whispered back, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Of course I do.”

He pulled back slightly, searching your eyes, his expression a mix of hope and disbelief. “Yeah?”

A breathless laugh escaped you. “Yeah.”

And then he was smiling—grinning, actually—like you had just given him the entire universe. Before you could overthink it, before your fear could take over, you lifted yourself onto your toes and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to his cheek.

Hyunjin blinked, startled. “Did you just—?”

“Yes,” you cut in, flustered, your cheeks burning. “Shut up.”

He laughed, the sound echoing through the empty street, a joyful, unrestrained sound that made your heart soar. And without warning, he pulled you into the tightest hug, lifting you off the ground just slightly. You yelped, clinging onto him as he spun you around, the both of you laughing like kids.

When he finally set you down, his hands still rested on your waist, his forehead pressed against yours once more. His smile softened, his voice dropping to something impossibly tender. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

You bit your lip, feeling warmth spread through your entire body, a warmth that had nothing to do with the night air. “Then do it.”

Hyunjin didn’t hesitate. He tilted his head slightly, closing the small gap between you, and then—his lips brushed against yours, soft and hesitant at first, like he was savoring the moment, testing the waters. But when you melted into him, when your fingers curled into the soft fabric of his hoodie, he deepened the kiss, pouring every unspoken word, every hidden feeling into it.

The kiss was a revelation. It was a culmination of years of friendship, a release of pent-up emotions, a declaration of love whispered in the language of touch. It was tender, passionate, and utterly breathtaking. You felt a wave of dizziness wash over you, a sense of falling, not into an abyss, but into something safe, something real.

The city around you faded away, the distant music becoming a soft, romantic soundtrack to your shared moment. All that remained was the two of you, standing under the warm glow of the streetlights, the world holding its breath.

When he finally pulled away, his lips just barely ghosting over yours, he grinned, a wide, radiant smile that lit up his entire face. “You’re mine now.”

You chuckled, nudging his chest playfully. “I think I’ve always been yours.”

Hyunjin beamed, pulling you in again, holding you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a comforting, familiar sound that now held a new, deeper meaning.

As you stood there, wrapped in his arms, you realized something: you had spent so long wondering if loving your best friend was worth the risk, if it was worth jeopardizing the precious bond you shared.

Now, you knew.

It always was.

The silence that followed was comfortable, filled with the unspoken weight of newfound love. You felt a sense of peace, a quiet joy that settled deep within your bones.

"We should tell the others," Hyunjin murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear.

"The others?" you asked, pulling back slightly. "You mean our friends?"

He nodded, a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah. They've been waiting for this for years, you know. They'll probably throw a party."

You laughed, picturing your friends' reactions. They had always teased you and Hyunjin, their playful jabs about your "obvious" feelings a constant source of amusement and embarrassment.

"They'll never let us live this down," you said, shaking your head.

"Who cares?" Hyunjin shrugged, his smile widening. "As long as we're happy."

He took your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours, and began walking again, this time with a newfound lightness in his step. You walked beside him, your heart overflowing with happiness, the city lights reflecting in your eyes like tiny stars.

You passed the cafe again, the music still drifting through the night air, a soft, romantic melody that now seemed to perfectly encapsulate your feelings. You paused, looking up at Hyunjin.

"That song," you said, pointing towards the cafe. "It's perfect."

He listened for a moment, then nodded in agreement. "It is. It's like it was written for us."

You smiled, a warm, genuine smile that reached your eyes. "Maybe it was."

He squeezed your hand, his touch sending a shiver of excitement down your spine. "Maybe it was."

You continued walking, hand in hand, the city lights guiding your way. You talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and dreams, the comfortable silence between you now filled with a new, unspoken understanding.

As you approached your apartment building, Hyunjin stopped, turning to face you. The streetlights cast long shadows, creating a romantic, intimate atmosphere.

"I don't want this night to end," he said, his voice soft.

"Me neither," you admitted, your heart pounding in your chest.

He hesitated for a moment, then reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. His touch was warm, reassuring.

"Can I… can I kiss you again?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, soft and tender. The kiss was slow, deliberate, a silent promise of more to come.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes were filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

"Goodnight," he whispered, his voice husky.

"Goodnight," you replied, your voice barely audible.

He lingered for a moment, his gaze lingering on yours, then turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the night.

You watched him go, your heart filled with a mixture of happiness and longing. You couldn't wait to see him again, to spend another night under the moonlight, dancing to the rhythm of your newfound love.

You entered your apartment, a smile still playing on your lips. You changed into your pajamas, your mind replaying the events of the night, each moment etched into your memory.

You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your thoughts swirling with dreams of the future. You imagined a future filled with laughter and love, a future where you and Hyunjin were inseparable, a future where your love story continued to unfold under the soft glow of the moonlight.

As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn't help but smile. You had found love in the most unexpected place, in the arms of your best friend, under the dancing moonlight. And you knew, with a certainty that warmed your soul, that this was just the beginning.

[idkanymark]

[So close to what]

best friends to lovers au | haechan x f!reader

INTRO: your best friend is in love with you but you’re too scared of ruin the friendship to accept his feelings.

w. slightly suggestive

NOTE: Exam season is over and I finally have a little bit of time. How are you?

Do you guys prefer when I use the name Haechan or Donghyuck? Please let me know!

---------

"Did you hear?" Ryujin asked, leaning in with a knowing smirk.

"Heard what?" you replied, raising a brow.

"Hoseok wanted to ask you out—but Haechan stopped him."

"What?" You blinked, stunned.

Everyone knew about Haechan’s feelings for you. He never said it outright, but his actions spoke loud enough. From high school to university, he remained by your side—teasing, annoying, and somehow still your favorite person. You’d lost count of how many times you tried to strangle him, probably resembling Homer and Bart, yet you couldn’t imagine life without him. That’s exactly why you never acknowledged his feelings, and Haechan was smart enough never to say them aloud.

"Do you really not see him as more than a friend?" Ryujin pressed.

"Yes, I'm sure” you said firmly.

Well… that was going to change soon.

Especially that evening, you and Haechan were having your usual dinner night—something that had become routine ever since you recently moved in together near campus.

Coming back from work, you expected the usual - maybe Haechan napping on the couch or raiding the fridge before dinner. What you didn’t expect was to find Haechan shirtless, playing with your dog.

You’d seen him shirtless plenty of times before. But not since he started hitting the gym. And wow—he had changed. Broad shoulders, toned arms, defined abs. When did this happen?

You were too busy staring to realize he had caught you. He turned, amusement flickering in his eyes as he fought back a smirk.

“Oh, you’re back?” he said casually, like he hadn’t just sent your brain into overdrive. “I already prepped everything for dinner.”

“Oh? Mh—yeah, I—” Wait. Why did it suddenly feel hot? Was there no air in here?

“I’m just gonna take a quick shower first!” you blurted before bolting to the bathroom, your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

As you shut the door behind you, you swore you heard him chuckle.

Haechan 1 - 0 You.

By the time you stepped out of the shower, you had successfully convinced yourself that you were not affected by Haechan’s sudden gym-induced glow-up. You were just tired. Stressed. Hungry. That’s all.

You walked into the kitchen, determined to act normal, only to find Haechan already setting up the ingredients. His damp hair was pushed back, a few strands falling lazily over his forehead. The sleeveless shirt he threw on did absolutely nothing to hide the changes you were desperately trying to ignore.

"Feeling better?" he teased, glancing at you with that look—the one that always meant trouble.

You rolled your eyes and reached for the cutting board. "Just hand me the vegetables."

The two of you moved around the kitchen in a familiar rhythm, chopping, stirring, and sneaking bites of food when you thought the other wasn’t looking. Everything was fine—until you struggled with the knife, your hands slipping slightly on the carrot you were cutting.

Before you could react, Haechan was behind you. Right behind you.

"Here, let me help” he murmured, his chest just barely brushing against your back as he reached around you. His hands covered yours, guiding your grip on the knife.

You swore the temperature in the room shot up ten degrees.

"You’re holding it too loosely” he continued, his voice lower than usual. "You need to be firm."

Firm. Right. Firm grip. Not shaky hands. Not the overwhelming awareness of how close he was, how warm he felt, how good he smelled—why does he smell so good?!

"You okay?" he asked, his breath fanning against your ear.

No. Absolutely not.

"Yeah! Of course! Totally fine!" you blurted, stepping forward so fast you nearly knocked the bowl off the counter. "You know what? Maybe you should handle the cutting. I’ll just… stir."

Haechan watched you with amusement, the corners of his lips twitching upward. "You’re acting weird” he said, crossing his arms.

You grabbed the nearest spoon and pointed it at him. "I am not acting weird. You’re acting weird!"

He just chuckled, shaking his head as he picked up the knife again. "Whatever you say."

Haechan 2 - 0 You

And for the first time, you started to wonder if maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as immune to him as you thought.

-----

A road trip was long overdue. Ever since Haechan got his driver license, it had been your thing- just you, Haechan, the open road, a questionable playlist, the endless banter. Nothing had changed.

Or so you thought.

As you hopped into the car, adjusting your seat, Haechan shot you a lazy grin. “I got everything we might need so you can ride comfortably.”

You choked on air.

Ride comfortably?

Your head snapped toward him, but he was already looking straight ahead, fingers drumming against the steering wheel like he hadn’t just said that. Oh, this man was choosing his words very carefully these days.

“Oh?” You cleared your throat, narrowing your eyes. “And what exactly does that mean?”

Haechan turned to you, feigning innocence. “You know, snacks, pillows, a blanket in case you get cold—” He glanced at you, his smirk deepening. “Why? What did you think I meant?”

Your brain short-circuited.

“I—nothing. I just—shut up and drive” you muttered, yanking your seatbelt on as heat crept up your neck.

The car rumbled to life, and soon, you were cruising down the highway, music filling the space between you. But something was different. You could feel it in the air, thick and charged, every teasing glance from Haechan making it worse.

“So” he started, tapping his fingers against the wheel, “when are you gonna admit it?”

You frowned. “Admit what?”

“That you’ve been acting weird around me lately.”

Your grip on your drink tightened. “I have not—”

“You literally sprinted to the bathroom the other day after seeing me shirtless.”

Your jaw clenched. “I was hot.”

“Oh, I bet you were.”

Your head snapped toward him, and he was already grinning like he won some kind of game. You hated how smug he looked. You hated even more how right he probably was.

You exhaled sharply, turning your gaze back to the road.

Haechan 3 - 0 You

And this trip was far from over.

-----

The sky was drenched in deep oranges and purples as the road stretched endlessly ahead. The entire trip had been a game—one you were losing miserably. Haechan had been relentless, throwing teasing remarks and smug glances your way, collecting points without even trying.

But not this time.

You shifted in your seat, stretching your arms above your head with a casual sigh. “Ugh, I should’ve worn something lighter" you muttered, tugging at the neckline of your top just enough to draw attention. “It’s so hot in here.”

Haechan didn’t react at first, his eyes fixed on the road. But you caught it—the quick flicker of his gaze toward you, the subtle shift in his grip on the steering wheel.

Encouraged, you went in for the kill. “Maybe I should just take this off" you mused, fingers hooking under the hem of your shirt as if you were actually considering it.

That did it.

His knuckles went white against the wheel, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and he exhaled slowly, like he was physically restraining himself.

Still, he said nothing.

The air inside the car grew thick with something different. No teasing comeback, no cocky remark. Just tension. Heavy, undeniable tension.

And that’s when you knew.

Haechan wasn’t winning this round. You were. You finally got a point.

A slow smirk crept onto your face as you leaned back, satisfied. “Hey, pass me the aux.”

For a second, he didn’t move. Then, finally, he let out a sharp breath, shaking his head with a disbelieving chuckle as he grabbed the cord and handed it to you.

“You’re so annoying” he muttered, gripping the wheel a little too tightly.

You grinned, plugging in your phone. “Something wrong?”

He scoffed, dragging a hand through his hair. “I hate you”

No, he didn’t.

Haechan 3 - 1 You

-----

The ride to Busan had been long. Five hours of charged silence, stolen glances, and the occasional throat-clearing that neither of you acknowledged. By the time you arrived, exhaustion was settling into your bones—but the universe clearly wasn’t done messing with you.

Because the moment you stepped into your Airbnb, you were met with a problem.

“A bed?” Your voice pitched slightly. “There’s only one bed?”

Haechan, standing behind you, blinked at the sight like he was just now realizing it.

You turned to him, arms crossed. “Haechan. You booked this place.”

“I didn’t know that!” he defended, throwing his hands up. “I just saw the good reviews and a nice view—how was I supposed to check that?”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. The tension had already been unbearable, and now, this? It was like karma was punishing you for something.

Still, you were exhausted. Arguing wasn’t worth it.

“I’ll order food" you sighed. “Go take a shower, you must be tired from all the driving.”

Haechan smirked as he grabbed a towel. “Try not to freak out during our honeymoon, sweetheart” he teased, throwing a wink before disappearing into the bathroom.

You picked up a pillow from the couch and chucked it at the door.

By the time he came out, hair damp and smelling annoyingly good, the food had arrived, and you were already eating. He plopped down across from you, stealing a fry off your plate without asking—typical.

For a while, there was just the quiet clatter of chopsticks and the hum of the TV in the background. Then, finally, he spoke.

“I’ll take the couch.”

You paused mid-bite, blinking at him.

Something about the way he said it made your stomach twist. You should have felt relieved. You should have nodded and moved on. But instead, there was this stupid little twinge of… what? Disappointment?

No. Definitely not.

“Alright" you muttered, pushing your rice around with your chopsticks.

Haechan glanced at you, lips twitching like he was debating whether to say something. “Unless…” he started.

You looked up. “Unless what?”

He grinned, leaning his chin on his hand. “Unless you want me in bed with you.”

You stared at him. “I will smother you with a pillow.”

Haechan laughed, shaking his head as he leaned back. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending the warmth in your face was from the food.

And the night was far from over.

-----

The tension from the car ride still lingered as you both got ready for bed. Haechan was setting up his spot on the couch, fluffing a pillow as if it would magically make it more comfortable. You sat on the edge of the bed, watching him.

He had driven for almost five hours straight. He deserved a comfortable bed—not a stiff couch—yet here you were, letting your ridiculous nerves and hormones get in the way.

What kind of awful person were you?

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Haechan."

He hummed in acknowledgment, not looking up.

You hesitated, then finally blurted, "Would you like to sleep with me on the bed?"

That got his attention.

Haechan froze mid-motion, blinking at you as if he hadn’t heard you correctly. "I’m sorry, what?"

You exhaled sharply. "I said: Would you like to sleep with me on the bed?"

A beat of silence. Then, "Are you sure?" His voice held an unusual hesitation, as if he didn’t quite believe this was happening.

"I’ll change my mind if you don’t jump on the bed in the next few sec—"

You didn’t even get to finish.

Haechan was already diving onto the bed, a satisfied grin on his face.

You rolled your eyes, shifting under the covers as he got comfortable beside you. It felt… strange. Too quiet. Too real. You both instinctively turned your backs to each other, but that only made it worse.

Minutes passed. Maybe an hour. But sleep never came.

You sighed softly, rolling over. "Haechan, are you awake?"

He turned too, now facing you in the dim light. "Yeah."

Your breath caught. Being this close, lying in the same bed—it was something entirely new. His face was barely a foot away, his eyes searching yours as if waiting for something.

He looked ethereal.

"Can I tell you something?" His voice was quieter this time, careful.

Your heartbeat stuttered. "Yeah."

He hesitated for only a second before saying, "I’ve liked you for a while."

The confession hit you like a slow-burning flame, creeping through your chest and spreading warmth and panic all at once.

"It could ruin our friendship…" you whispered.

"It won’t" he said immediately. "We will never break up."

There was no hesitation in his voice, no doubt. Just certainty. And for some reason, that certainty felt like the safest thing in the world.

"Do you feel it too?" he asked.

You swallowed hard, then nodded. "Yes."

Something shifted. The space between you felt smaller, your breaths mingling in the stillness of the room. Neither of you spoke. You didn’t need to.

And then, he kissed you.

It was soft at first, almost hesitant—like he wanted to take his time, like he wanted to memorize the way you felt. His lips moved against yours slowly, testing, savoring. But when you kissed him back, he exhaled against your skin, pulling you in just a little closer. His fingers brushed against your cheek, warm and steady, anchoring you in the moment.

The kiss deepened, unspoken emotions spilling into it—years of teasing, of unspoken tension, of lingering glances neither of you ever acknowledged. And now? Now it was undeniable.

When you finally broke apart, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your face.

Then, just as you thought the moment couldn’t get any more overwhelming, Haechan smirked.

"Oh, by the way," he murmured, "I did know there was only one bed"

Silence.

Your eyes widened. "You WHAT?!"

Before he could react, you shoved him, grabbing a pillow to physically wipe that smirk off his face.

Haechan burst into laughter, dodging your attacks. "Hey, don’t be mad! It worked, didn’t it?"

"YOU’RE UNBELIEVABLE!"

Still grinning, he caught your wrists, pulling you back down beside him with a chuckle. "Come on, sweetheart, you still feel like yelling at me?"

You huffed, glaring at him. But the warmth in his gaze, the lingering feeling of his lips on yours—it was impossible to stay mad.

Haechan 4 - 1 You

And somehow, you didn’t even mind.

But then the laughter finally died down, leaving only the sound of your breaths in the quiet room. Haechan was still grinning, lying beside you like he had just won the biggest game of his life. Technically, he had.

You glared at him, still trying to process everything. The confession. The kiss. The fact that he had planned the one-bed situation all along.

But before you could throw another insult his way, he suddenly smirked—that famous smirk, the one that always meant trouble.

"Do you remember my suggestion?" he asked, voice dripping with amusement.

You frowned. "What suggestion?"

Then it hit you.

Your brain rewound back to earlier that day. The car ride. The teasing.

"I got everything we might need so you can ride comfortably."

Your eyes widened, heat creeping up your neck.

Haechan noticed the exact moment you put it together because his smirk deepened.

"Are you still up for it?" he asked, his voice lower now, playful but laced with something else. Something dangerous.

You swallowed, your pulse hammering in your ears. You should say no. You should roll over, ignore him, and go to sleep like a rational person.

But you didn’t.

Instead, without breaking eye contact, you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his before tugging him closer.

Haechan’s eyes darkened slightly, his smirk faltering just enough for you to know you had caught him off guard.

“I don’t mind a ride”

That was all he needed.

In a flash, his arms were around you, pulling you flush against him. His warmth, his scent—everything about him surrounded you in an instant. His lips brushed against your temple, trailing slowly down to your cheek before hovering just inches from your lips.

Haechan 5 - 1 You

But by the way he was holding you, it felt like you both won.

[shuenkio]

Please ? — 현진

Paring: Hyunjin X M!reader

Synopsis: Making your boyfriend mad? He had enough from bottled up ever since, now you'll pay the price.

Genre : Smut — no plot. Cw: smau.

Non proof read | Eng is not my first.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

Note: A drabble smut.

The bed cracked, by the impact of the masculine hot man pounding his enormous length into his lover's ass. His boyfriend had been a very bad boy, ever since and didn't even admit that he was wrong. Hyunjin was bottled up by his anger, and frustrated whenever M/n doing that that upset him, such like touching other guy hand, clinging to their friends a lil much than usual.

"You little piece of shit, MMHA— take it you fucking slut, know your place that you're only mine, you're my god damn boyfriend, not the slave to put up for good to the others than me M/n! Fuck"

Hyunjin growl like a husky while balls deep down into M/n's hole relentlessly, pressing his hip to the hilt inside, rough pounding him with no mercy to punished M/n for good, making sure he'd remember who he belong to. M/n can't put his fingers on anything, his wrists are being tied by one hand due to his lover. Your world has become Hyunjin's toy — His own personal toy, this was the consequences of doing bad, something that Hyunjin had already been saying countless times that he doesn't like M/n to make contact, touching, and clingy to everybody a lot however M/n didn't listen now here we are, M/n's anal is being destroy and abused by Hyunjin's cock non stop.

"I'm sorry kiwi— I'm so surry— w-wont happened ever.... Again" Feeling guilty along with how rough he is fucking without any rest, M/n left no choice but to beg for mercy, to spare, to breathe. Yet Hyunjin only gets more turned on with the way you beg for him, the puppy doe eyes never fail to melt Hyunjin's heart ever, it was one of the reasons why this relationship started.

Hyunjin's chuckle, his voice vibrates through the body of M/n with his sly and chucky smirk. Your whimpers and squirming is like music to his ears which he can't stop pulling his sensitive dick out of M/n even though the moment the latter said sorry— all anger in Hyunjin faded like a dust.

"Puppy you think by saying sorry is over? How funny because you're not only fueling me more but making yourself so fuckable rn!!

Shit— why are you so MITHERFUCKING tight owchh mhmm like that— I'm gonna

No—No— Ahh Ahh I'm coming m/n, this is insane I can't stop— so fucking STRANGE I'm FUCK— CUMMING" Gurgle sound were heard, it was crazy that Hyunjin nut so hard to this point of him, shooting lot jazz of hot cum rope inside of his boyfriend's inside, painted them from flesh to tacky smelly white. As Hyunjin's expression contours in pleasure, results him to hold onto M/n's waist for his dear life that could leave hands prints, whilst his throbbing rock hard cock pulsing to the vast unable to pull it out due to his overstimulated sensitive, he throwing his head facing the ceiling where in his eyes were nowhere to be seen except white. The sensation never failed to turn Hyunjin into a lifeless demon, by your tight hole clenching him like a vice every single time.

M/n's also turn into a sculpture, his boyfriend's orgasm is almost too intense which clicked instantly, triggered the small latter's penis as a load of cum, spurt out staining on the black mistress. He's fucked up.

"Never make me mad again my forever — this is how I punish you okay? You know how much I fucking love and would burn the world for you. Please."

Funtalk: How was it... It's another experiment ;_; would you ever want to leave Hyunjin? I hope you say no.

[viviwah]

CHOI SU-BONG (THANOS) - BEST FRIEND

warnings: f!reader, unprotected sex (creampie), slight oral (m receiving), smut + fluff, smau (takes place outside of the games), mentions of drugs, friends to lovers??

a/n: i’ve been seeing so many smau’s and now i’m obsessed ^^

sum: after finding out your boyfriend was nothing but an unfaithful piece of sh*t, your best friend comes over to comfort you.

You sat on your living room couch, legs crossed and mind wandering. You contemplated on whether or not you should call your boyfriend, Nam-Gyu, for the 3rd time tonight. Yeah, he worked late some nights since he was a promoter at Club Pentagon, but you had a feeling that tonight he was busy doing something other than work. You let out a deep sigh and reached for your phone, clicking on his contact, and calling him. You waited patiently and anxiously as the phone rang. It only took a few seconds before someone picked up. Your heart raced.

“Hello?”

The voice of a woman could be heard from the other side of the phone. Your brows furrowed as you pulled your phone away from your ear, double checking to see if you clicked onto the right contact and you did.

“Uh, who’s this?”

“Who are you? You’re the one who’s calling MY boyfriend.”

“Your boyfriend?” you scoffed.

“I guess he’s been lying to both of us.”

“Wh-”

With a swift click, you ended the call, leaving whoever that girl was, dumbfounded. You couldn’t believe what you had just heard. Her boyfriend? Your heart sank and it felt like the world around you began to close in on you. Your breath hitched as tears started to fill your eyes, you shut them, allowing the warm, salty, tears to rush down your cheeks. You knew something was off with Nam-Gyu, especially since for the past month he’d been coming home late, not responding to your texts, and not returning any of your calls. Honestly speaking, it was gonna happen sooner or later. He was a club promoter after all, meaning that he was always surrounded by loads of half naked women and nine times out of ten, he and the women he encountered were under the influence. Being on drugs is no excuse for cheating though, you knew that and you weren’t trying to justify his actions, you just wanted to come to a conclusion.

Why would he ever cheat on you?

You’ve been nothing but good to him for the entirety of your relationship. When he needed a shoulder to cry on, you were there. When he didn’t feel seen or heard, you were there to make him feel both of those things. You weren’t able to come to a conclusion just now and you didn’t want to spend your night crying over spilled milk so you just decided to forget about it for now. You wiped away your tears with the ends of your sweatshirt and grabbed your phone again, this time to text your best friend, Su-Bong, since he always knew how to cheer you up.

You laughed to yourself before shutting your phone off. Su-Bong was a pro at making light out of the darkest situations and that’s why you loved him. You decided to freshen up a bit before he came, changing into some cozy pj’s and just as you made your way back into the living room, the sound of knocking could be heard at your front door. You made your way over to the front door and opened it, revealing your best friend, Su-Bong, who quickly made his way into your home.

“Hi, Señorita.” he flashed a smile and raised his hands that held two bags. “Got your favorites.”

“Thanks, you’re the sweetest.” you smiled to him, watching as he placed the bags onto the table in your kitchen.

“So, what happened?” he questioned, opening a bag of gummy worms and stuffing his face.

You let out a sigh before going into full detail to explain the events that took place about an hour ago.

“Wow, he’s worse than I thought.” his face that was once full of excitement, was now blank and his eyes were full of hatred.

“Tell me about it.” you scoffed as you made your way over to the couch, throwing yourself onto it.

Su-Bong followed behind you, taking a seat on the couch as well.

“I always thought he was too ugly for you anyway.” he let out a light chuckle and you quickly slapped him on the shoulder.

“What?!”, he pouted.

“That’s mean.” you rolled your eyes.

“He’s mean for cheating on you!” he argued.

It had been exactly three hours since Su-Bong came over and most of that time was spent watching movies, making jokes, and trolling your ex. You were having the time of your life with your best friend, almost forgetting that you were going through a breakup. You look over to him, watching as his eyes were glued onto the TV. Su-Bong was so effortlessly attractive and he always made you feel heard which was something that Nam-Gyu failed to do. You wondered what a relationship with him would be like.

STOP.

Why were you thinking like that about your best friend?

Were you starting to catch feelings for him? Were you just now realizing that the love of your life had been in front of your face this entire time?

“What you thinking about, Señorita?”

The sound of his voice rang throughout your ears, ripping you away from your inappropriate thoughts.

“Nothing.” you replied calmly.

“If you’re still thinking about that manwhore, I can help you take your mind off of him. Only if you’ll let me.” he spoke softly as he trailed his hand over your shoulder.

Your eyes met his and in that moment, you realized you could no longer hold back the feelings you had for him. Your arms wrapped around him and you pulled him in for a kiss and as your lips touched his, your eyes widened, and you suddenly pulled away. You realized that what you’d just done was wrong and you attempted to apologize.

“I’m s—”

Your apology was cut short as you were interrupted by Su-Bong’s lips clashing against yours. I guess the feelings you had for him were mutual. At first you were hesitant but soon, you gave in, melting underneath his touch. His hands trailed up and down your body as he kissed you passionately. The kiss that started off so innocently was quickly turned into an aggressive make out session and as the two of you shared sloppy kisses, Su-Bong began playing with the buttons of your pajama top. He pulled away from your lips before speaking.

“Can I take this off for you?”

You nodded in response and he wasted no time, immediately unbuttoning your shirt and throwing it onto your bedroom floor. He eyed your boobs, admiring them, even though they were still confined within your bra. You made your way onto his lap and began trailing your lips along his neck, leaving behind a few faint hickeys. Su-Bong’s hands trailed up your bare back and in one swift movement, he unclasped your bra, throwing it onto to floor alongside your shirt. His hands then rested on your now bare boobs, giving them a light squeeze. You let out a light moan into his ear and trailed your hands down to the waistband of his sweatpants, you pulled lightly before being stopped.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” his eyes met yours, softening as he questioned you.

“Yes, I’m sure.” you gave a light nod as you spoke.

He then slid his sweatpants and underwear off, encouraging you to do the same. You watched as his thick cock sprang up, almost touching his bellybutton. You wrapped your hand around it and then began moving your hand up and down, drawing light groans from Su-Bong.

“Fuck.” he cursed under his breath.

You smirked, fastening your movements and watching as pre-cum started to leak from the tip of his cock. Your warm tongue licked up his shaft before reaching his tip and once your tongue reached his tip, it moved swiftly, licking up all of his pre-cum. You then opened your mouth, wrapping it around the tip of his cock as you moved your head down slowly, attempting to take every inch of him down your throat. Su-Bong felt like he was in heaven, he groaned loudly as he felt your warm mouth wrap tightly around his thick cock, it was enough to make his eyes roll into the back of his head. His hands soon became tangled in your hair as he forced himself further down your throat.

“Enough of this, I want to be inside you already. Let me make you feel better than he ever did.”

Su-Bong instructed you to lay on your back so you did just that and watched as he teased your wet pussy with his fingers, running circles around your clit and sliding one finger in, just to take it out immediately. Your back arched up slightly as you moaned and he loved this, he loved seeing you so weak under his touch. After teasing you for what felt like hours, he finally slid his thick cock inside of your warm and plump pussy, stretching you out. Your lips parted immediately, forcing your moans to flow out like a waterfall. Su-Bong eyed your entire body as he began thrusting into you, slowly, before picking up the pace and thrusting into you quickly and roughly. Your moans grew louder as he thrusted into you faster by the second, resting one of his hands against your right boob and squeezing your nipple as his free hand rubbed circles around your clit, forcing your eyes to roll back into your head.

Who knew he’d be this good in bed?

“Does it feel good?” he questioned in a whisper before leaning into you and kissing onto your neck.

“Y-Yes, it feels so good.” you responded.

“Even better than the way he made you feel?” Su-Bong questioned again, still thrusting into your tight pussy roughly.

You nodded, unable to speak to due to the overwhelming pleasure.

“Let me hear you say it.” his fingers moved faster around your clit as his thrusts slowed.

“You make me feel way better than he ever did.” you admitted, locking eyes with him.

He pulled you in for a kiss and started thrusting into you deeper than he did before and a familiar feeling began to wash over you, one that you haven’t felt in a while. Your pussy gushed, tightening around Su-Bong’s cock as a tight coil began to form in your lower abdomen, signaling that your orgasm was near.

“I’m gonna cum.” you whispered, moaning lightly.

Hearing this only encouraged Su-Bong to fasten his pace and deepen his strokes, his number one priority right now was making you feel good and he was doing a damn good job. Your walls tightened around him once again and he groaned loudly as his cock began to twitch inside of you, he was close too. He tried pulling away but you stopped him.

“Cum inside of me, please.”

He nodded and thrusted into you once again, forcing that coil that had built in your lower abdomen to unravel. Your pussy tightened around him again before you coated his cock in your juices. His cock twitched one last time before pumping you full of his cum. He slid his cock out of your pussy and watched as his cum began to drip out of you slowly.

“I love you, (yourname).” he breathed out, giving you a soft smile.

“I love you more, Su-Bong.” you smiled.

[cillian-gets-me-wetter]

thinking of you - kiss it better (part 1)

summary: after the end of her tour across the united states for her second album, erika decides to stop by and visit her favorite person before she has to inevitably go back home.

warnings: smut (18+ only!), angst, mentions of drugs and drug use, emotional + verbal abuse (tw!), mention of blood (tw!), brief instance of dv (tw!), cheating, friends to lovers, blackmail, revenge porn

disclaimer: i do not own people or teams mentioned in this story besides the original character(s). this is strictly for fictional purposes only. there are mature topics discussed throughout this series so i strongly advise to please read at your own discretion.

masterlist ✨

italics - flashbacks

divider: @kodaswrld

word count: 3,702

erika entered the cvg terminal, wearily dragging her suitcase through the lively airport. the tour for her second album, short n' sweet, was a huge success, having many sold-out shows across the u.s. performing live every night and the fans' support gratified her but at the end of every show, she was alone with a gnawing emptiness inside. she couldn’t help but ache for some form of familiarity, to be somewhere that felt like home. after getting her bags from baggage claim, she ordered an uber to hotel covington. while she was waiting for her ride outside, she longed to feel joe’s body heat pressed against her, his enticing hands feeling every inch of her body.

they hadn't seen each other in months since paris fashion week. there, they snuck around whenever they could, going out to dinner by themselves or he’d end up sleeping in her hotel room. she recognized the moral dilemma in their situation. she knew cheating was wrong but joe made her feel wanted and satisfied like no man ever had. their connection made her feel alive. the car didn’t take too long to arrive, putting her belongings in the trunk, getting inside shortly afterwards. erika looked out the window at the passing city streets of cincinnati; she was stuck in her own head. she had spoken to her boyfriend, nicholas, only a couple of times since leaving to start her tour.

the couple had met at an audition one day, hitting it off pretty well. soon after, they matched on tinder and continued talking. they went on several dates before nicholas officially asked her to be his girlfriend. their relationship began with a magnetic attraction. it was rushed. they quickly found an apartment and started living together within a few months of dating. around the same time that erika started hooking up with joe, his behavior made her question everything she thought she knew about him and his character.

october 2023

erika stood in front of the mirror, taking the time to admire her outfit once more before she and nick were about to leave to go out. she wore a midi polka dot brown dress, leaving her hair down but styled it in lustrous curls. she was reapplying and touching up her lip gloss when he walked into the room, his eyes bored into her back with disdain and disgust before she turned to look at him, beaming with excitement. “hey, babe! are you ready to go?”

her smile dropped slightly when she saw the frown and disapproving look on his face. “is something wrong?” he sneered, “you’re seriously going out like this?” she blinked, taken aback by his reaction. “oh. i thought you would like this dress.” he rolled his eyes, replying in a curt tone. “well, i don’t. it’s ugly, who are you trying to impress, huh?” she tried to defend herself, not wanting him to think otherwise. “nobody, i just-” he quickly cut her before she got the chance to finish, “you know what? i don’t fucking care. go change or i’m leaving without you.”

she nodded and turned her back to him, walking back down the hall to their bedroom as tears formed in her eyes. her confidence and excitement for the night ahead squashed down like a defenseless bug.

july 2024

erika stirred in her sleep when she heard faint gasps, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, trying to register her surroundings. she turned to face nicholas when she saw blood dripping from his nostrils and the sound of him choking on it. her eyes widened in horror at the sight, unsure of what to do but shook him in hopes that he’d wake up. she whispered, her trembling hands shook his shoulders, “baby, wake up.” after a minute of trying to wake him up, he jolted awake with a gasp, startling erika and attempting to regain control of his breathing.

her hand waringly rested on his back to not startle him more but nudged her touch away with his shoulder, wiping the blood off his nostrils and face with the back of his hand. she flinched when he pushed her touch away but didn’t want to press it. “are you okay? Why is your nose bleeding?” he doesn’t look at her while he gets out of bed to clean himself up. “it’s allergies, don’t worry about it. go back to sleep.” he made his way to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. erika got out of bed, lightly knocking on the door to not aggravate him. she spoke to him through the door with the sound of the sink running. “babe? are you sure you’re okay?” she heard him let out an exasperated, annoyed sigh before speaking, “i’m fine, erika. just go back to fucking sleep.”

her heart ached at the tone of his voice. she felt like all she did was annoy him. she moved away from the door and lied back down in bed, a gnawing feeling in her gut that something wasn’t right about his so-called “allergies”. he never had that happen throughout their time dating but didn’t want to bring it up since she didn’t want to argue with him.

a couple of weeks before she left, their fights escalated. she had recurring thoughts about one night in particular that was on her mind.

september 2024

the door slammed shut after erika and nicholas got home from dinner with a few of her costars from outer banks. she thought the night was going well until the drive home from the restaurant. erika examined nicholas with care. she saw the tension in his muscles when he walked past her. he met her gaze, rolling his eyes and seething in anger, “i can’t fucking believe you.” her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his outburst. "what are you talking about?" he scoffed, her confusion only frustrating him more. “don’t play dumb, erika. why were you flirting with him?”

she shook her head. “who? drew? i wasn’t flirting with him; i thought we all had a good night, babe.” she tried to place her hand on his arm to calm him, but he jerked away from her touch with aggression. his eyes narrowed in her direction, his jaw clenched, growing angrier because of her answer. “that is such fucking bullshit. i saw the way you were eye-fucking him the whole time; do you think i’m stupid?” she tried to explain herself to him, standing a few feet away while she watched him pace the room. “nick, please, it wasn’t like that. just listen to-”

he cut her off with a sudden shout. “shut the fuck up already!” he grabbed the vase filled with wildflowers off the dining room table and threw it at her head. erika gasped and cowered instinctively, her arms moving to shield her face. the shattering glass and spilling water echoed through the room and in her ears. he stormed past her, crunching broken glass underfoot. he entered their shared bedroom and slammed the door behind him. she uncovered her face, seeing the damage this small fight caused.

dirt and water were splattered near her heels. the bouquet of flowers lay in disarray on the hardwood floor. erika looked at her forearms and saw small, bleeding cuts from the shards of glass when he threw the vase at her. while she cleaned up the mess with trembling hands, she couldn’t help but think that joe wouldn’t treat her this way. he never raised his voice or berated her; he was always patient and gentle with her. something that nicholas no longer knew how to be.

she walked on eggshells around him, a sense of dread made chills run down her spine at the idea of returning to los angeles. she was terrified he would find out the truth, that he had driven her into the arms of her best friend.

after arriving at the hotel and checking into her suite, erika went inside. she unpacked a change of clothes and decided to take a shower to freshen up and clear her head. the water cascaded down her face and body, steam fogging up the mirror. she wondered how joe would react to her unexpected arrival. she knew he was struggling this season. he was working hard to win after a recent loss to the ravens. but the media's scrutiny after each game was not helping. their focus on the team's poor record overshadowed his high stats as a quarterback.

she wanted nothing more than to be there and support him through this rough patch. but erika also knew the risks if people found out about the true nature of their relationship. not only did she have nicholas’s reaction to worry about, but the general public and the media would have a field day, already imagining the tiktok gossip videos and news articles being made and written about them. she got out of the shower, changing into shorts and an oversized lsu shirt that joe had given her. then, she plopped down onto the king-sized bed. she scrolled through her phone and landed on his contact, deciding to call and let him know she was in town.

erika clicked on the call button, hoping he would answer when she heard the dial tone. after the third ring, he picked up, “hey, bunny. what’s up?” her lips curled into a smile after he answered. god, she missed him. “nothing much, baby. i miss you.” he let out a soft chuckle, setting his bag down in the passenger seat and getting in the car. “i miss you too, princess.” she got up from the bed, walking around the room as she held the phone close to her ear. “you just got out of practice? how did it go?” he sighed and nodded with a gentle motion, even though she couldn’t see it. “yeah, i finished up a bit ago, it was okay. how was your last show?”

she ran her manicured fingers through her damp hair, exhaling a deep breath. “it was good... a lot of fun and emotional, as per usual. i’m just tired now.” a faint smile formed on his face when he heard her speak about her time on tour. he missed her so much. “i bet, baby... you need to rest. are you heading back home?” her teeth tugged at her bottom lip gently, her stomach was in knots while she thought about how to approach this conversation. what if he didn’t want to see her? "well... not exactly. i ended up taking a detour.” his eyes narrowed in confusion, wondering what she meant by “a detour.” where could she have gone? “a detour? where did you go?”

she sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt. “i’m in cincy, actually.” he laughed, believing that what she said was a joke. “bullshit.. no, you’re not.” when he didn’t hear her laugh along with him, his eyes widened as he processed her words and allowed them to sink in. his girl was actually here to see him. he started fiddling with his keys right away, trying to start the car so he could go see her. “what hotel?” she giggled, hearing the faint jingle of his keys in the background. "covington. room 243.” a sense of relief washed over her that he was looking forward to seeing her again, all she wanted was to be in his arms. he nodded, putting the key into the ignition and starting the car. “will be there in 10, stay put.” 

joe abruptly ended the call, tossing his phone on top of his bag in the passenger seat and started driving over to the hotel from the stadium. his heart pounded in his chest at the thought of being able to be near her and touch her again. erika set her phone down on the bed, lying down and staring up at the ceiling. she was looking forward to seeing him but the weight of her relationship troubles with nicholas was heavy on her mind, having the tendency to get anxious whenever joe was on the way to see her. she took in a deep breath and exhaled, feeling her nerves begin to settle down.

she didn’t realize how much time passed until she heard a knock on her hotel room door. she got off the bed, walking over before answering it. all her doubts and overthinking went away once she saw him, moving out of the way to let him in. as soon as he closed the door, she wrapped her arms around his neck, capturing his lips in an impassioned kiss. he deepened it, his hands wandering to the small of her back, pulling her body closer to his. he couldn’t get her out of his head for months and now that she’s finally here, he didn’t want to fathom letting go.

when they broke apart, erika looked up at him, meeting gaze, his icy sapphire orbs boring into hers. her eyes were chestnut with golden flicks. he looked at her like she hung the moon and stars. joe smiled softly, breaking their comfortable silence. “hi, bunny.” his fingers grazed her face lightly, moving her hair out of the way and tucking the strands behind her ear. she smiled back, looking at him with a depth of love and adoration that she had felt for him since they were in college. “hi, joey.” she buried her face in the crook of his neck, the scent of his cologne wafted into her nose, wrapping her arms around him, wanting to savor how close he was as much as she could. she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. “god, i fucking missed you.”

joe accepted her embrace, her smaller stature fitting perfectly against his muscular and athletic frame. he nuzzled his nose in her hair, smelling the fragrance of her vanilla and toffee shampoo. “i missed you too, baby. i couldn’t get you out of my head.” she moved her face away from his neck, looking up at him once more. she leaned in, their noses touching before kissing him again. he gasped, his tongue nudging at her bottom lip as if he was asking permission to enter. she parted her lips slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue in her mouth. she moaned softly, letting him take control like she always did whenever they were together like this. her fingers landed on the hem of his shirt, helping him take it off and tossing it on the floor carelessly. he guided her back onto bed without breaking the kiss.

joe’s hands slipped underneath her shirt, caressing her body leading up to her breasts, groping and fondling the pillowy mounds. erika pulled away from his lips and let out a soft moan, her hands running over his chest, allowing herself to enjoy the feeling of his touch after months of not being around him. she parted her legs invitingly for him to settle in between them more comfortably and wrapped them around his waist. she whispered to him, her nails grazing his skin lightly. “i need you so bad, baby. help me forget, please.” he nodded, helping take off her shirt and tossing it on the floor too. “i got you, bunny. always.”

the cold air from the room hit her nipples, making them perk up while joe looked down at erika in awe. he always thought she was the most beautiful girl he has ever seen in his life. but seeing her this vulnerable just for him was something he could never get over. he groaned lowly, leaning down and his tongue flicked over her left nipple, suckling it in his mouth. a breathy whine came out of her mouth at the feeling of his teeth grazing her skin. her fingers threaded in his hair, watching him through hooded eyes while his mouth worshipped her other breast. her hips diluted against his clothed groin, his hands moving down to the hem over her shorts.

he released her right nipple out of his mouth while he pulled down her shorts and panties, tossing them to the side, getting a good look of her wet arousal glistening before him. joe was beginning to kneel down to eat her out, erika stopped him, her hands on his broad shoulders. “no, wait!” joe looked up at her with concern, hoping he didn’t make her uncomfortable. “what’s wrong, baby?” she shook her head, a shy smile forming across her face. the way joe looked at her and was always considerate of her feelings made her feel desired and loved. “nothing’s wrong. i just really need you to fuck me, i can’t wait anymore.”

without another word, joe flipped her over onto her hands and knees on the bed like she weighed nothing. a delighted squeal comes from erika, bending over and arching her back, her round ass facing up obediently for him. he pulled down his sweats and boxers, kicking them off from his ankles. his throbbing, erect cock springing free for full view, slapping against his toned stomach and pre-cum leaking from the tip. he moved closer, adjusting her hips towards his groin. joe rubbed the swollen head of his cock against her slick folds, chills shuddering down their spines at the feeling. he sharply hisses while he finally slips inside her. erika’s breath hitched before exhaling a breathy moan, stretched and filled to the brim with every inch of his dick.

she rocks back, pushing her ass against him. joe’s fingers dig into the plush flesh of her hips, thrusting inside of her deeper. erika whimpered, “fuck, that feels so good..” she buried her face in the sheets to cover up her noises as joe’s cock pounds deep into her pussy. his breath shuddered, angling his thrusts deeper within. “yeah? is my dick making you feel good, baby?” the warmth of erika’s wet cunt enveloping around his girth made him grunt, his hands moving away from her hips.

she nodded and whined into the pillow, moving her hips to match his movements. his right hand wrapped through her silky, long black hair, pulling her hair so that he could hear her moans. she mewled at the slight sting of pain from him pulling her hair but it added the right amount of pleasure in that moment. erika looked up at him through hooded eyes, her hands pulling him down by the nape of his neck to face her, capturing her lips in a teeth, tongue clashing kiss. joe kissed her back, his free hand grabbing at her breasts, pinching her nipples.

erika broke away from the kiss, whispering against his lips. “i love you.” joe pecked her lips briefly, whispering back in response. “i love you too.” he let go of her hair, she laid back down on the bed, his hands gripping on her hips again as he continued fucking her. her eyes rolled back, needy and incoherent cries were muffled in the pillow, digging her nails in the sheets. the sound of skin slapping against skin, her moans and his grunts filled the room. her pussy clenched around his length, indicating to him that she was close to cumming. he pants heavily, feeling that he was close too, moving one hand off her hip and reaching down to rub her clit.

she let out a choked sob, the coil in her stomach on the brink of snapping when joe was rubbing her clit. he bent down over her body, his breath in her ear. “cum for me, baby. milk my cock dry.” his words and his teeth nibbling on her earlobe brought her over the edge, she exclaimed a high-pitched gasp, her legs quivering underneath him and cumming on his cock. the feeling of her pussy squeezing around his dick and the sounds she made and whimpers brought him to his climax, letting out a curse under his breath as he growled, cumming deep inside of her cunt. the impact of her orgasm, the weight of her emotions surrounding her relationship with joe and her problems with nick came crashing down over erika like a typhoon.

her heaving pants turned into crying, curling herself into a ball when joe slipped out from inside of her. his face dropped, concerned at the sudden change of emotion, hoping he didn’t hurt her. he stroked her hair lightly down to her back, not wanting to upset her further. joe asked her gently, “hey, what’s wrong? did i hurt you?” erika shook her head, sniffling while she tried to regain control of her breathing. he moved her damp, sweaty hair from her face, wiping her tears away with his thumbs before laying her head on his chest and wrapping his arms around her petite frame. she melted in his arms, finally feeling at peace again.

she took in a few deep breaths before moving her head off his chest to face him. “i’m sorry, joey. i didn’t mean to scare you like that.” he shrugged as if it was the most casual thing in the world. “it’s okay, baby. i was just hoping i didn’t hurt you.” she gave him a small smile, her fingers trailing down his chest. “you didn’t hurt me. i just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.” he nodded, understanding that feeling. “i understand. well, if you want to talk about it, i’m here whenever you’re ready. just rest for now.” she kissed him softly, his reassuring words put her at ease. “thank you, i’m really glad i came here.” he smiled, looking down at her. “i’m glad you did too, erika.” she snuggled against him, closing her eyes before falling asleep in his arms.

while erika knew she’d have to tell joe the extent of her issues with nick eventually, she wanted to enjoy this moment with him, wanting to enjoy the feeling of being back in his arms before she had to face reality again. as much as she wanted to, she knew she couldn’t live in this fairytale fantasy forever.

[honeyscara]

❝ not a joke ❞ — Shoyo hinata

-haikyuu(spoilers!)

Synopsis: childhood friends to lovers

Cw: fem! reader x timeskip! Hinata, 18+ MDNI!!, soft sex, fingering, protected sex, hinata being a sweetheart

~4.4k words, this is part 2, { part 1 here }

Hinata snapped his gaze back up, his entire face burning like a wildfire. "I—I wasn’t looking!" he blurted, immediately making it so much worse.

You blinked up at him, lips slightly parted, cheeks tinged pink. The way you were pinned beneath him, your body warm against his, your shirt still not fixed. The air between you turned thick, charged with something different—something neither of you had ever really faced before. Your legs shifted slightly beneath him, your skin brushing his in a way that sent a full-body shiver down his spine.He should move. You should.But for some reason, both of you couldn't.

Hinata wasn't thinking.

Or maybe he was. Maybe he was thinking too much—about the way you felt beneath him, about how warm your skin was where his hands had just been, about how your shirt was still bunched up, exposing way more than it should.

And before he could stop himself, the words just fell out.

"Have you…" He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. "Have you done it before?"

Your entire body went still. "What?"

Hinata’s face explodednwith heat, but now that the words were out there, he couldn’t take them back. "You know… what happened in the movie earlier…"

The second realization hit you, your stomach flipped. "Shoyo." Your voice came out a little breathless, a mix of shock and something else you couldn’t quite name. "Did you just ask me if I’ve—"

"NO—! I mean, yes—I mean—I DON'T KNOW!" Hinata panicked, throwing his hands over his face and backing away. "Forget I said anything!"

But how the hell were you supposed to forget that?!

Your heart was pounding, your breath uneven as you sat up and stared at him. "Why?" You smirked slightly, despite the heat rising to your own cheeks. "You wanna know for a reason?"

Hinata choked so hard he nearly toppled off the couch. "W-WHAT?! NO! THAT’S NOT—"

You leaned in slightly, watching him unravel with way too much amusement. "Then why’d you ask?"

"I don’t know!" His voice cracked, and he buried his face in his hands. "It just— It just came out, okay?! I wasn’t thinking!"

You tilted your head, eyes glinting with mischief. "That means you were thinking about it at some point, though."

"STOP!" He whined, practically curling into himself. "Oh my god, why did I say that?!"

You laughed, but your heart was still racing. Because underneath all the teasing, the air between you felt different now.

The words slipped out before you could even think.

"Wanna do it?"

Silence.

Your heart stopped.

Your brain shut down.

Oh. Fuck.

THIS—this was not casual joking. Definitely not innocent. And the second you processed what had just come out of your mouth, your entire body locked up in horror.

You snapped your head toward Hinata, praying he hadn’t heard you—

But oh, he heard you.

His wide, amber eyes were locked onto yours, his face frozen in absolute shock. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. He just sat there, staring, his mind clearly crashing.

The tension in the room skyrocketed. The air felt too thick, your own breathing unsteady.

You swallowed, your hands gripping the hem of your still-bunched-up shirt. "I—"

Hinata blinked. "Did you just—"

"NO!" you practically shouted, scrambling to fix what you just ruined. "I—I didn’t mean— That was a joke, obviously—obviously! Ha ha—*"

Hinata still wasn’t speaking.

"Shoyo, say something," you pleaded, face burning hotter than the sun.

Hinata suddenly let out the most awkward laugh you’d ever heard, rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to shake off whatever this was. "Ha—haha— wow, uh… that was… something."

You groaned, covering your face with both hands. "Forget I said anything. Please. Just erase it from your memory forever."

But then—he moved closer.

Your hands dropped just in time to see Hinata leaning in, his usual nervous energy still there, but something else simmering beneath it. Something that made your breath hitch.

His voice came out lower than usual, hesitant but undeniably curious. "But… what if we do?"

Your stomach flipped.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Because—what?

Your heart pounded in your ears as his amber eyes locked onto yours, studying your face like he was trying to figure something out. His usual dorky grin was nowhere to be found—only a slight, almost teasing smirk tugging at his lips. He was joking. Right? He had to be.

Right?

But if it was a joke, why did he lean in just a little more? Why was his breath so warm against your skin? Why did his fingers twitch like he wanted to reach for you?

Your heart pounded against your ribs. This was Hinata. Your childhood best friend. The same Hinata who used to challenge you to ridiculous races, who laughed until he cried over the dumbest things, who once fell out of a tree trying to impress you.

Now he was looking at you like he was seeing you for the first time. Like he wanted to hear your answer.

You swallowed hard, your fingers curling against the fabric of your shirt. Your heart was practically hammering against your chest, your pulse roaring in your ears.

And then—without even thinking—

You nodded.

Hinata’s breath hitched. His eyes widened just slightly, amber flickering with something undeniably different.

Neither of you spoke. The weight of your answer settled between you, thick and heavy, making the air practically hum with something unspoken.

Hinata shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours. His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips, lingering there for just a second too long.

"You’re serious?" His voice was barely above a whisper. You exhaled shakily, unsure if you could even trust your own voice. But you managed the tiniest nod.

Hinata didn’t move for a moment, just staring at you, his lips parting slightly like he was trying to process what the hell was happening right now.

And then—

He leaned in.Hinata hesitated for just a second, his breath warm against your skin, his lips so close yet not quite touching. It was like he was giving you a chance to pull away, to take back your silent answer.

But you didn’t.

And that was all he needed. His lips brushed against yours—soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But the second he felt you respond, a quiet exhale escaping you, something in him shifted.

His hand found your waist, warm and a little unsure, but steady enough to make your stomach tighten. His other hand hovered near your cheek, not quite touching but so close it sent a shiver down your spine.

This was Hinata. Your best friend. The boy who had been by your side for years.

And now he was kissing you.

A quiet, surprised hum slipped from your lips, and that sound alone seemed to undo him. His grip on your waist tightened just slightly, and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss—still gentle, still careful, but undeniably real.

It wasn’t just a joke anymore. It wasn’t teasing.

It was happening. You tugged onto his hair as he as he deepened the kiss, going lower to your jaw and neck.

His fingers trailed across your back and shoulders before reaching into your hair again, tangling their way through your locks while his tongue teased along your collarbone.

You couldn’t help the soft noise that escaped your lips, and the second Hinata heard it, a quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest. His face hovered just above yours, amber eyes dark with something unreadable.

"Sho…" you breathed, your fingers tightening slightly against his shirt.

"Yeah?" His voice was low, a little breathless, as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. His expression softened, concern flickering behind the heat in his eyes, always wanting to make sure you were comfortable.

You hesitated for just a second before lowering your gaze, suddenly feeling so much shyer than before. "Can we… go to the bedroom instead?"

Hinata blinked, his lips parting in surprise. But then, as your words fully registered, a slow, almost mischievous smile tugged at his lips.

"Yeah," he murmured, nodding before standing up—only to suddenly scoop you up into his arms like you weighed nothing.

A surprised gasp left your lips as your feet left the ground, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. "H-Hinata!"

"What?" He grinned down at you, eyes twinkling. "Gotta put all this muscle to good use, right?" Your heart flipped in your chest.

He carried you effortlessly into the room, his grip warm and secure as if he never wanted to let go. And when he finally set you down on the bed, he did it so gently, as if you were something precious—something he wanted to take his time with.

You barely had a moment to process the warmth creeping up your neck before he reached for the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head in one smooth motion. Your breath caught as you stared.

Hinata tossed his shirt aside and leaned over you, bracing himself on his arms. His toned chest, the sharp lines of muscle carved into his stomach, the definition in his arms—when the hell had he gotten so built?!

"What happened to that tiny little guy I used to know?" you teased, though your voice came out just slightly breathless.

Hinata smirked, his face lowering until his nose brushed against yours. "Guess I had a growth spurt."

His lips hovered just above yours again, his breath fanning against your skin.

"Want me to show you just how much I’ve grown?"Hinata’s smirk deepened at your flustered expression, and before you could even think of a response, he moved.

Slowly, deliberately, he dipped his head down, his lips barely grazing the sensitive skin of your jaw. A sharp inhale slipped from your lips, your fingers curling into the sheets as he trailed lower, so achingly slow it sent shivers down your spine.

Then—a kiss. Right at the base of your neck. Soft. Testing.

And then another.

Hinata exhaled against your skin, his breath warm, his lips pressing more firmly this time. A soft hum of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he felt you tense beneath him.

"Sho—" You bit your lip, your hands twitching, unsure where to place them as he continued his path downward.

Then, he sucked.

A startled gasp escaped you as his lips latched onto your neck, his teeth barely scraping against your skin before he soothed the spot with his tongue. His hands gripped your waist, holding you steady as he worked another mark just a little lower.

He wasn't stopping.

Another kiss. Another slow, teasing graze of his teeth. Another deep, lingering press of his lips, leaving behind warmth and a faint sting.

Your head tipped back, your breath uneven. "Hinata…"

He hummed against your skin, his lips curving into a knowing smile. "You called me Sho earlier," he murmured, pressing another kiss just below your ear. "I think I like that better."*

Hinata’s fingers ghosted beneath the hem of your shirt, his touch featherlight yet searing against your skin. Slowly, deliberately, his hand slid higher, tracing the curve of your waist before stopping just below your breasts.

Your breath hitched, your body tensing ever so slightly. He hesitated, amber eyes flickering up to meet yours, searching—asking a silent question.

You swallowed, your pulse pounding in your ears, and after a moment, you gave a slow, tentative nod. Something in his gaze darkened, but his lips curved into the softest, most reassuring smile.

"Okay," he murmured, his voice warm, steady.

Then, with aching slowness, he pushed your shirt higher, his fingers skimming over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He took his time, almost as if savoring the moment, before finally slipping the fabric over your head and tossing it aside.

Hinata’s breath caught. This was his first time seeing you like this.

His gaze roamed over you, admiration flickering across his face—like he wasn’t sure whether to blush, stare, or touch.

"Wow," he whispered, more to himself than to you. And just like that, the heat in your cheeks spread all throughout your body.

"Sho… I’m nervous," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Instinctively, your hands moved to cover your bare chest, a flush creeping up your neck.

Hinata’s gaze softened as he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek before cupping your face gently. "Hey," he murmured, his thumbs stroking soothing circles against your skin. "You’re beautiful. Inside and out."

Your heart fluttered in your chest.

Before you could even process the warmth pooling in your stomach, he leaned in, pressing soft, open mouth kisses along your jaw, trailing lower—down the column of your neck, across your collarbone, his lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

Your breath hitched when he dipped even lower, his hands tracing along your sides before his fingers grazed your sensitive nubs. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, a quiet gasp slipping past your lips.

Hinata paused, his warm breath fanning against your skin. "Tell me to stop if it’s too much, okay?" he murmured, his voice low, almost hesitant.

And then—an experimental flick of his tongue.

A sharp inhale. Your fingers curled into the sheets beneath you as a quiet whimper escaped before you could stop it.

Hinata stilled for a moment, watching your reaction with something unreadable in his gaze, before he smiled.

"Guess I’m doing something right," he teased, his voice husky, before leaning in again.

Your cheeks burned, and you opened your mouth to respond—to say anything—but any words you had were lost when he dipped his head again, sucking teasingly as his other hand simultaneously twisted your sensitive nubs between his thumb and index finger.

"Nnnm!" you moaned, your whole body tensing as his tongue glided over your sensitive flesh as his fingers tugged at the waistband of your shorts. Your head fell back, your nails digging into his shoulders as another shudder rolled through your body. When he looked up at you, his eyes held something softer now.

"You okay?" he asked, searching your face as be slipped one hand in your shorts.

You swallowed, your fingers reaching up to thread through his messy orange locks. "Yeah," you breathed, your heart hammering as he trailed against your heat while maintaning eye contact with you. "You’re being really sweet, you know that?"

Hinata chuckled,"Well… it’s you," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "Of course I want to take my time and make sure your okay."

Hinata’s words sent a whole new kind of warmth rushing through you—one that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the way he was looking at you. Like you were something precious. Like he wanted to memorize every single detail.

"aah–" a whimper escaped your lips as he slipped a finger inside. The sound and the sight made hinata groan as he felt his own dick twitch in his pants. fuck

He slowly slipped off your shorts while pumping his index finger in and out of you, trying not to rush things because fuck, he wanted you to have the most pleasure since he knew this was your first time. But god –dammit—his cock was getting harder by the second as he watched you squirm underneath him. The slight hitch in your breathing, the way your body trembled in his hands.

"mmhm shoyo.." Hinata bit his lip, his breath hitching at the soft, unfiltered sound that slipped from your lips. His grip on your thigh tightened as he increased his pace.

Your fingers curled into the bedsheets as his finger pumped in and out, one hand slipping higher along your side, grazing over your chest in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

Then, just when you were about to come undone, he suddenly stopped.A whimper of protest left your lips before—

A sharp gasp.

Hinata pressed two fingers against your sensitive bud, applying just enough pressure to send a jolt of pleasure through your entire body. Your back arched off the bed, head tilting back as a strangled moan slipped past your lips before you could stop it.

"You’re incredible," he murmured, his voice husky, filled with something that made your skin burn. "I could do this all night."

~

Hinata hovered above you, his gaze searching yours, his breath slightly unsteady. His fingers traced soothing circles against your skin, as if grounding both of you in the moment.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked as he positioned himself, his voice softer now, tinged with both anticipation and concern.

You held his gaze, taking him in—the flushed cheeks, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the warmth in his eyes that made your heart stutter.

Then, slowly, you nodded. "I want this," you murmured, voice steady despite the rapid beat of your heart.

A breath you hadn’t realized he was holding escaped him, and his lips curled into the faintest, almost relieved smile. "Me too," he whispered, leaning down to brush his lips against yours—soft, lingering, like he wanted to savor the moment.

"But wait a min—" Hinata scrambled off the bed, ruffling through his nightstand drawer with frantic determination. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching with a mix of amusement and curiosity as he dug through the clutter—receipts, old keychains, a half-empty pack of gum—before his fingers finally curled around a small foil packet.

Your eyebrows shot up. "Wait…" You sat up, pointing at the item in his hand. "You actually have one?"

Hinata turned to you, looking almost too proud of himself. "Of course I do!" he said, puffing out his chest slightly. "Gotta be prepared, right?"

You narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms. "Uh-huh. And just when exactly were you planning to use it, Mr. Innocent?"

His confident facade instantly crumbled. "Wha—no! It’s not like that!" His face turned a deep shade of red as he waved the packet around defensively. "I just… I mean—it's been in there for a while! I didn’t even know I still had it!"

You raised a skeptical brow, lips twitching. "So you're telling me you've been hoarding a condom like some kind of secret treasure?"

"I- wasn’t hoarding it!" Hinata groaned, rubbing a hand over his face before shooting you a playful glare. "Are we really gonna have this conversation right now?"

You giggled, shaking your head. "I just never thought my best friend was so...prepared. "

Hinata huffed, throwing himself back onto the bed beside you. "Yeah, well," he muttered, shooting you a side glance, "you never thought we'd be here either, huh?"

Your breath caught, heart skipping a beat at the weight of his words. He wasn’t wrong. Hinata sat up, still slightly flustered but determined as he held the small packet between his fingers. You watched as he brought it to his mouth, gripping the edge with his teeth before tearing it open with an effortless pull.

Your eyes widened slightly. "Oh."

Hinata glanced at you, amusement flickering in his gaze as he tossed the wrapper aside. "What?" he asked, voice laced with playful confidence.

You blinked at him. "Nothing…" You paused before raising a brow. "Just didn’t expect you to look so—" You waved a hand vaguely, searching for the right word. "…experienced."

His cheeks tinted pink, but he smirked anyway. "Told you I’m prepared," he teased.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes with a small laugh. "Yeah, yeah… just get over here, ‘Mr. Prepared.’"

Hinata grinned, placing himself before your legs again, slipping the latex over his throbbing dick. "gladly" before he pushed in slowly, letting you get comfortable first.

You leaned your head back against the pillows, relaxing your jaw and eyes closing as he gently thrust forward—slow, deep

~

The next day you woke up to the feeling of something lightly brushing your face. Your eyes fluttered open to find hinata already awake.

"sorry, did I wake you up? you can sleep more if you want" he said caressing your cheek.

"hmm..give me a few minutes" you hummed in response.

Hinata let out a soft chuckle as you burrowed closer, your warmth seeping into him like the morning sun filtering through the curtains. "Take all the time you need," he murmured.

Hinata’s fingers traced lazy patterns along your back, his touch featherlight against your bare skin. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, the sheets tangled around you both, a quiet reminder of everything that had happened last night.

Your face heated at the thought, and you instinctively curled closer, hiding in the crook of his neck. He let out a soft chuckle, his chest vibrating beneath you.

"Shy now, huh?" he teased, his voice still raspy from sleep. "You weren’t like this last night."

Your fingers twitched against his skin, and you groaned, lightly smacking his shoulder. "Don’t remind me."

"Why not?" He tilted his head slightly, his lips brushing against your temple. "I think it was kinda cute how you—"

"Sho!" You cut him off, reaching up to cover his mouth with your hand, your cheeks burning.

Hinata laughed against your palm before gently pulling your hand away, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright, alright, I’ll stop," he said, though the smirk on his lips told you otherwise.

As you lay in his arms, wrapped in the warmth of the morning, you hesitated for a moment before finally whispering, "This was my first time, you know…"

Hinata’s hold on you tightened slightly as he looked down, his expression softening. "Yeah?" he murmured, brushing his fingers against your cheek.

You nodded, feeling the heat rise to your face. "And I’m glad it was you."

His eyes widened slightly before a warm, boyish grin stretched across his face. "That’s kinda unfair," he said, voice laced with fondness.

You blinked. "Huh?"

"You keep saying cute things and expect me to just stay normal?" He chuckled, pulling you closer as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Now I feel even luckier."

Your heart swelled at his words, but curiosity got the best of you. "Wait… what about you?" You hesitated. "Did you, um, y’know… with someone in Brazil?"

Hinata paused for a moment, blinking at you. Then, just as you were about to clarify, a sly smirk crept onto his face.

"Mmm… maybe," he hummed, stretching lazily. "There were a lot of pretty girls over there, you know…"

Your face immediately scrunched up, and without thinking, you grabbed the nearest pillow and whacked him with it. "You idiot!"*

"Ow—hey!" He laughed, shielding himself as you rained soft blows down on him. "I was kidding! I was kidding!"

You huffed, arms crossed, glaring at him. "Not funny."

"It was a little funny," he grinned, reaching for your wrists to stop your assault. "And for the record," he pulled you closer, his expression turning sincere, "you were my first too."

Your frustration faded as your eyes met his, warmth bubbling in your chest again. "Really?"

Just as you were about to relax again, he smirked. "And, well… you’re about to be my second time too."

You blinked. "Huh?"

Then you noticed the way his gaze darkened, a familiar heat behind his eyes as they trailed lower. That same look from last night—mischievous, wanting, hungry.

And that’s when it hit you.

In the middle of your little pillow fight, you had completely forgotten you were only wearing his unbuttoned shirt. And now that you were sitting up straight… you were practically on full display for him. Hinata swallowed hard, his shameless gaze lingering.

"Stop staring, you perv!" you yelped, grabbing the pillow again in a weak attempt to shield yourself.

But Hinata only laughed, effortlessly plucking the pillow from your grasp and tossing it aside. "Can you blame me?" he murmured, shifting closer, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you into his lap. "You’re literally sitting here, wearing nothing but my shirt, and you expect me to just—" He exhaled, resting his forehead against yours. "..not want you all over again?"

Your breath hitched.

Hinata’s hands moved up, fingers tracing light circles against your back, sending tiny sparks up your spine. You gulped, suddenly very aware of how close you were—his bare chest pressed against yours, his breath fanning against your lips, the way his grip on you tightened just slightly.

"Sho…" You whispered, your heart pounding in your ears.

He hummed in response, his hands sliding lower, squeezing your waist gently. "We don’t have to, y’know," he said, voice softer this time. "I just… really like being close to you."

Your fingers curled against his shoulders. "I… I like it too," you admitted, cheeks warm.

Hinata grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek before murmuring against your skin, "Then let me hold you a little longer."

And just like that, you melted into him, letting yourself fall into the warmth of his embrace.

[uki01]

Can you do friends to lovers headcanons for Movie! Shadow and Silver the Hedgehog! Reader?

”Just stay a little longer, won’t you?”

Movie! Shadow The Hedgehog and Silver The Hedgehog x Reader (Separately).

Author’s Note: Thanks for this request!

Warning: Mentioned of Death in Shadow’s part, Small Angst, don’t worry there’s fluff and comfort.

Movie! Shadow The Hedgehog

You were a very close friend of Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Tom and Maddie cause of Wade Whipple.

You even became a family member to them (In Sonic, Tails and Knuckles eyes at least). Maddie and Tom enjoyed you as well.

So after a few months after the whole saving the world from being destroyed, you met The Ultimate Lifeform himself, Shadow through Sonic ever since he was introduced to the Wachowski family.

At first he kept his distance and you respected his boundaries, though you did try to do small talk which Shadow lets you but never really talked back unless necessary.

But he then started talking you as well, having a full on conversation about whatever came to mind.

After that, you two become really good friends, close ones, it was pretty hard since he was a loner preferred that way but it was so worth it.

You learn about his past, of how his best friend and older sister figure, Maria died from an explosion 50 years ago. You felt so terrible for him and can understand why he went out of his way to do this.

He then asked you this.

”Y/N… do you think I’m… bad?”

You looked confused and asked him.

“What made him say that?”

”I almost got this planet terminated, I was so blinded by rage that I didn’t see the gentler and softer side of this planet, I could’ve gotten everyone killed, everyone including… you… aren’t you mad at me for almost doing a foolish thing?…”

You put some thought into it then responded with this, this what made Shadow fallen for you.

”You aren’t bad Shadow, you were just very upset for someone you loved dearly that had an unfortunate death, sure blowing up the planet was insane but.. you had your own reason, everyone has a reason to do such outrageous lengths just for their loved ones, everyone would do anything to avenge their loved ones or bring them justice. That’s what I really like about you Shadow, you would do anything to protect someone you love, everyone including me loves that in someone.”

And that’s what made Shadow fall for you.

After that night, for a good few weeks Shadow has fallen for you, but he didn’t know since he has never felt romantic feelings before so this frustrated him quite a lot.

Maddie and Sonic catches on and asks Shadow what’s wrong, Shadow tells them what’s going on and Maddie is excited and Sonic is already teasing him.

”Awww! You have a crush on Y/N that’s so cute Shadow!”

”Wow Shadow! Never took you for someone to fall for somebody but hey! Life is a surprise!”

And of course, Shadow is confused by this.

”Crush? What do you mean? I don’t want to crush Y/N I would kill them, I would never do such a thing.”

”No no Shadow! It means you have romantic feelings towards her, like you know your best friend slash older sister? It’s like that! Love but different type! You want to be a thing with her like a partner that wants to be romantically involved with her! You know what I mean?”

”I see…”

Shadow took some thought into this and then asked Maddie how does he ask you to be his girlfriend/boyfriend which made Maddie even more excited and Sonic teasing even more, he got punched by Shadow after that.

After a few months, Shadow asked you to meet on top of a hill at exactly around 4pm, which you agreed to, left you excited and confused.

Once the time hits, you immediately make your way to where Shadow said to meet. Once you made it to your location, you see Shadow with a basket, mat, drinks and candles, it was a picnic!

This made your heart do flips and smiled at the sight.

”Aww Shadow was this all for me?”

”Mhm, come, sit down, don’t want for the food to get cold.”

You giggled and made your way, you two started eating what Shadow made (from Maddie’s help), talked for a bit, even have your moments of laughter then watched the stars.

You looked over to Shadow who was fixated on the stars, then looked back up, decided to strike a conversation.

”Woah, these stars look pretty tonight, what do you think Shadow?”

”I agree, they look beautiful as ever.”

”They do.”

”Not as beautiful as you though.”

That caught you off guard as you stopped to look at him, he looks back with his stoic but soft expression.

This made your face blush a bit but giggled anyways.

”Gee, what’s gotten into your mind today?”

”You Y/N.”

”Wait, what?”

He fully turned his body towards you then sighed, getting ready for what he has to say

“Ever since Maria had… died, I thought the only way to bring justice was to destroy this planet, turns out I was wrong, there’s a lot of beautiful things on his planet that I didn’t even notice myself, you, Y/N showed me that, still treated me like how Maria did, not some… freak… you made me change my perspective on myself after our conversation one night, you’ve done a lot for me Y/N, so I want to do the same for you.”

Your face turns red, but still listened in, your heart warmed up and your soul fully touched by generous words.

”Y/N, do you want to be my boyfriend/girlfriend?”

He hands you your favourite bouquet of flowers.

Your face dropped when he asked this, this worried Shadow, thinking you were going to reject him. “Are you kidding?…”

His face slightly dropped and so did his ears, this is it, you were going to—

“YES!”

You shouted out loud with happiness, Shadow’s expression lightened up a little as he hugs you close and so did you, kissing his forehead which made him shudder a bit.

”You have no idea how happy I am my love…”

”I can only imagine honey… I love you Shadow…”

”I love you with all my heart and till the end of time, Y/N..”

And just like that, you two become a couple, Maddie was happy and squealing with joy, Sonic was teasing you and Shadow but was happy for both of you, Tails excited and congratulated you two, Knuckles was proud of Shadow for his bravery and honour, he was certainly happy for you two and Tom was proud of Shadow and applauded for you two.

You two become the most cutest couple in Green Hills, you wouldn’t changed it for the world for this happy and special moment, it was the same for Shadow, even if he didn’t show that much excitement, he was extremely happy to have you as his partner.

Silver The Hedgehog

You met Silver through Sonic when Silver was stopping by from the future.

You were pretty intrigued so you strike up a conversation with him and it was pretty awkward right off the bat since Silver lacked socials skills.

But he did talk, just awkwardly and you reassured him to take his time and as time went on you two were talking like a boat going down a stream, peacefully.

The two of you started talking more often now, with Silver always visiting you from the future, practically becoming close friends.

He explained about his future and how it’s ruined, and the process of meeting Sonic. You felt bad for the guy.

”I just… wish I was useful more before it all went terrible, why did it have to happen to my future! And I went and almost killed the wrong guy and trusted a lunatic! This was all my fault… Am I?… a terrible person?…”

You listened intently to his venting, then said this after he asked if he was a bad person (spoiler: he wasn’t), that changed you and Silver’s relationship.

”You aren’t a terrible person Silver, you were doing thought was right, to save your future, you deserve and good life Silver… a better life, an easy life, good guys like you shouldn’t be going through such tragedy, but on the brighter side, you met your friends, Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Amy, Cream, Cheese, Blaze, Rouge, Shadow… I think? Anyway! Regardless, even if bad things happen there’s always good things too, I believe in you Silver.”

And that’s what hit Silver, that moment right there, what made him fallen for you.

After that, these past few months have been stressful for Silver, but for a different reason, that reason was you.

That conversation you and Silver had, made that stutter even more when he’s around you.

Blaze noticed this right at the beginning of his crush on you, she asked Silver what’s wrong, which he respond sheepishly.

”I have this… crush on Y/N, after that conversation me and them had, my heart just did flips, but I don’t know if they likes me back.. what if they don’t like me back, what if I confessed they would feel weirded out, angry at me, confused at me or even pitying me and our friendship will never be the same! What if-“

”Silver calm yourself, I know Y/N for long enough as I’ve been here with them, they are the most nicest, considerate, confident and outgoing person ever, they would never say it like that or feel that, the worst they can say is no, and if they do you must accept that but… I think they feel the same way, they do go out of their way to make sure your comfortable and settled in properly whenever you come to visit after all.”

”Your… your right Blaze, I’m sorry for that…”

”No need to apologise Silver.”

”But, what can I do to win their heart?”

”Give them gifts, something they like, just be yourself, they like honesty, and frankly you are the first person they would be around anyways, shouldn’t be too hard considering you two are close.”

”Okay, thanks Blaze..”

”Anytime Silver.”

After that pep talk from Blaze and few months passing by, Silver asked you to meet up where the two first met each other which you agreed too immediately, that got his muzzle blushing red.

Soon as you two met up, you just had a look around, remembering of how you two met, then Silver for the first time, starts the conversation.

”Do you remember the first time we met?”

”How could I forget, for guy that has terrifying powers, you sure stutter a lot, not that it’s bad it’s cute actually heheh.”

Silver’s face blushes from embarrassment and love too, he clears his throat.

”Yeah, just like you said, life sure has its surprises.”

”Mhm, but I gotta ask, why did you bring me here?”

”To… give you this.”

He pulls out a gift for you, which you happily accept and open the gift, to see a bracelet that had your name on it and your favourite colours.

”Oh, Silver…”

”I had some help from Amy, Cream & Cheese when making them, I hope you like it.”

”Like it? I love it!”

That made Silver smile, your smile. As you put it on you wore it proudly, which made Silver’s heart beat twice as faster than it was before.

He took a deep breath and looked at you in the eyes.

”Y/N, you are one of the most important people in my life, ever since I’ve met you, you’ve made me feel like I belonged here, always making sure I was comfortable, safe, healthy and happy, but what made me happier was you. You just being there, even if you weren’t doing anything, you just being there with me made me feel so happier and loved, you’ve done so much for me, now I want to do the same for you.”

He hands you a bouquet of flowers, your favourite ones too.

”Y/N, do you want to be my partner?”

You were shocked at this, he didn’t even stutter, fiddled his fingers, none of that, however Silver thinks your probably judging right now.

”Are you serious?…”

Oh no, he knew it was happening, you are going to-

“OF COURSE I WILL!”

Those four words just made Silver’s day, he swooped you up in his arms as you held the bouquet happily laughing together while hugging.

”Gotta say Silver, I am impressed at what you said, you didn’t stutter a single word.”

”Well, I wanted this to be perfect, so I practiced, just for you.”

”Awww, Silver, you just being here is already perfect enough for me.”

”Thank you Y/N.”

”Of course, I love you Silver.”

”I love you too, sweetheart.”

And that marks the day you two were a couple.

Blaze, Knuckles and Tails was happy for you both and congratulated you two, Amy and Cream & Cheese were cheering and excited, basically about to burst a bubble, Sonic and Rouge was teasing you two but was genuinely happy for both of you, Shadow didn’t care… but he was genuinely happy that you two found love.

You we’re enjoying every moment with Silver and wouldn’t want to change any of this, so did Silver, he would tear time itself just to see your beautiful face, your pretty eyes, gorgeous smile and everything else apart of you that makes you, you.

Author’s Note: This was so much fun to write! Took me long but it was worth it! Thank you so much for the request!

(This gif will never NOT be funny to me).