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the-boy-meets-evil · 3 months

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34.6037° S, 58.3816° W | jww

(your latest assignment has you jetting off to argentina hoping to finally catch the infamous art thief that's escaped your agency one too many times already. you know what's at stake if you lose your focus. enter the beautiful stranger that has you questioning everything you know.)

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader genre: strangers to lovers, (kinda, v light) enemies to lovers | smut, fluff, angst rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~22.8k (idk what happened) warnings: art thief!wonwoo, secret agent!reader, brief mentions of death & bloody past (again, reader is a secret agent), mentions of past violence, mentions of weapons, food, drinking, VERY ambiguous ending smut warnings: multiple smut scenes, multiple positions, unprotected sex (don't do this), slightly rough sex, mild dom!wonwoo?, fingering, oral sex, choking, spanking, multiple orgasms, squirting, light marking, semi-public sex, food play (whipped cream, chocolate), i think that's it

a/n: this is for @svthub's world tour collab (check out the other fics here). i had so much fun writing this even if it got away from me a bit. thanks to @effortandmore for lending me her art brain. thanks to @highvern for constantly listening to me and @multi-kpop-fanfics for fit inspo. and as always, thank you to my bby @wongyuseokie for the banner & divider.

edited to add: i am considering an epilogue if that’s something anyone is interested in

tag list: @wonustars, @minisugakoobies, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @naajaeminsgf, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @pyeonghongrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @tomodachiii, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @sdoulc, @wonwootakemyheart, @divinityyyy, @nightshadeinmoonlight, @imma-queencard, @jelly-n

“We’ll be landing in about 45 minutes, according to the pilot,” a voice says, interrupting your laser-like focus.

You look up from your tablet and blink at him for a second. It takes you a moment or two to register he’s even standing there. Another moment to register what he actually said to you a second ago. In the meantime, you switch the program open on your tablet.

“Oh, thanks,” you say in response.

He sits down in the seat opposite you and fixes you with a smile. “Must be a good book, you’ve barely looked up for the entire flight.”

“Guilty,” you say with a practiced smile.

Chan, you think that’s his name, seems nice enough. A little overeager and too ready to agree to something when his bosses tell him what to do. There’s that real thirst to prove himself. But, at least from what you hear, he’s got a bright future. He’s done well with what he’s been given so far, which are increasingly difficult assignments. You can see why. He’s easy on the eyes and he’s got that soft smile down. The kind of unassuming smile that makes people want to trust him. If he can keep it up, he’ll go far.

“Thanks again for letting me catch a ride,” you say to fill some of the space between you.

Chan only shrugs. “Any friend of Mr. Choi’s is always welcome. Plus, nobody really says no when the boss says something.”

A lesser person would have probably laughed at that. Hearing him referred to as Mr. Choi and the boss is a little comical to you. Not that it isn’t true because he is definitely Chan’s boss. It’s just, well, it’s a little more complicated than that.

“Honestly I don’t really even understand what Cheol does,” you lie and turn on a little bit of the charm. It’s always good to practice on people that are trained to be charming themselves.

“Do you call him that?” Chan wonders.

“Call him what? Cheol?” you ask and Chan nods, eyes a little wide. It catches him just off guard enough. “Yeah, but I’ve known him for years. What do you call him?”

“Sir, usually,” Chan answers too quickly. You can’t fully fight the smile that answer brings to your lips. “Glad to see I entertained you.”

“He’s not nearly as bad as I’m sure he seems at work,” you say like you’re sharing a secret.

The truth is that you’ve been hearing about this new agent that Seungcheol is personally training for over a year now. So, you know that eventually, you’re going to all be laughing at this conversation in hindsight and he’ll also be calling his boss Cheol. For now, though, things are a little bit different.

“He mentioned that you were heading down to do some research?” he asks and you nod.

This part has always been a little tedious to you, the part where you come up with a cover story that you even have to feed to other people within the same organization. It’s been this way for your entire career. You were recruited at 18 years old and went through special training along with obtaining a degree. The Agency had two divisions, but you only ever learned about the second one if you were recruited to work there. It was that second division you joined right away.

Training had been grueling. If it wasn’t some kind of physical endurance training, it was sitting in a windowless room studying history or a foreign language. Or it was combat training with whatever weapon was on deck that day. Or working to blend into any situation. You quickly learned that did not mean not being memorable. At least not in every situation. Sometimes that meant looking at ease in your surroundings even if eyes were on you. Thankfully, the charm seemed to come naturally to you and that was one less thing you had to worry about learning.

The Agency officially works in maintaining international relationships between countries. That can mean a number of different things. Sometimes it involves an agent or team heading out to a location as official representatives. They can help with negotiation, security concerns, smoothing out issues, anything really. Unofficially, it often involves going undercover on a mission. That can involve either division, depending on the sensitivity of the mission. If it’s simpler, then someone like Chan gets sent out to work his way into a situation and influence the outcome so that everything stays calm. In fact, he’s here to charm a wealthy heiress that’s getting a little too close to revealing confidential information on government contracts.

You, on the other hand, are officially here to study Argentinian culture and immerse yourself in local traditions. Chan doesn’t know that you work for The Agency as well. He doesn’t know that Seungcheol is like a boss to you. It’s not his preference. Seungcheol misses the days when he was by your side in the field instead of stuck in the office behind a desk. Unfortunately, several years ago he suffered a severe injury that just made field work impossible for him. It took a lot of convincing, most of which fell on your shoulders as the person closest to him, to get him to transition to his current role. Where you had never set foot in the main offices, he had been there periodically. He was known to people there. And he was so insanely smart that you pointed out he would be bored trying to assimilate into regular life. Why not get to do one of his other favorite things and tell younger agents (or even older ones) what to do? That had been the biggest selling point because he was good at being in charge. It had been a bit of a rocky transition at first, but now it’s smooth sailing.

Unofficially, you’re here tracking one of the most infamous art thieves in the world. This is the kind of thing that has to be handled with the utmost secrecy. Other agencies and your own have tried to track him down and apprehend him only to have him slip into the wind. If you had to hazard a guess, you’d assume that there had been leaks during the previous attempts. You’ve also considered that he’s just really good at making a mark and blending into his surroundings. This is one of the most secretive missions you’ve ever been sent on despite seeming relatively innocuous. How much harm can an art thief really cause, right? Except, The Agency is largely funded by private investors and several of those investors have been victims and had art stolen. Despite that, the only people that know you’re making this attempt now are Seungcheol and the head of covert operations. His counterpart doesn’t know that you’re handling it, or even who you are. Instead, the main division of The Agency has a team headed to Amsterdam thinking that they’re after the notorious thief.

Although it seems like it should be straight forward, this thief has been working in the shadows for years without anyone really knowing what he looks like beyond him being a man. The reports about what he actually looks like vary so greatly that nobody really knows what to believe. You and Seungcheol have spent months trying to put together a profile that seems most realistic and you feel as comfortable as you can. His appearance seems a little elusive, but the information that he’s going to be in Buenos Aires is the best lead you’ve gotten. It comes from someone that you worked with on a previous mission. You had been studying your profiles when Chan came over and quickly exited to a different application.

“I am. I’m working on understanding the history of Argentinian culture through the eyes of Buenos Aires for a project,” you say with all the affection of someone who was actually going to be doing that. “I’m going to spend most of my time just out talking to people, learning their stories, that kind of thing.”

“Do you, uh, speak Spanish?” Chan wonders with clear apprehension.

“I do,” you say with a light laugh. “Be a bit awkward if I didn’t, right?”

“That’s impressive,” he says.

“I speak several languages,” you say nonchalantly and then make a show of catching his eye. “I studied language and culture in university.”

“You’re not what I’d imagine for one of my boss’s friends,” Chan admits. “Especially one close enough to get added to the manifest.”

You shrug. “I’ve known him for a long time.”

“He doesn’t strike me as someone with a lot of time for friendships or someone that you can ever really know,” Chan presses and you laugh.

“Married to the job, right?” you agree. “I’m a low maintenance friend. I spend a lot of time out of town for research, immersed in local culture. We’ve probably got more in common that you’d think.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” he concedes, seeming to easily buy your cover. He stands up. “I’ll let you get back to your reading.”

The rest of the flight goes smoothly and you say your goodbyes to Chan and the others from the flight once you get off the plane. As is the plan, you take your suitcases to a local taxi and head to your hotel, checking in under one of the many fake names you used when on a mission. The room is nice, too, even if it’s nothing all that extravagant. It’s just another part of the cover.

Since it’s been a long day, you figure that you might as well just order room service and settle in for the night. It’ll give you the chance to start getting your body used to the local timezone. Not that your body really has a home timezone anymore with how you’re constantly on the move. But, you still don’t mind the idea of resting for the night.

You’re incredibly thankful to be in Buenos Aires in July since it’s the coolest month. It makes it easier for you to just walk everywhere. Before leaving your room for your first full day in your new city, you double check your messenger bag to make sure everything is in there: camera, multiple lenses, journal, tablet and keyboard, sunglasses, wallet, and all your little bits to make it look like a bag you wear all the time. You smile at the receptionist on your way out, letting her know that you’re going off to explore what the city has to offer. She seems happy to see that you look better rested than after your long travel day. Even if heading out is mostly a cover for your mission, it’s also a little true. This city has been on your bucket list to visit for years and you’re not going to waste what might be your only opportunity to explore. It might even make it more believable as you’re trying to blend into the crowds around you.

After spending several hours wandering around and taking in everything you could, you find yourself at a local cafe in the early afternoon to have a cup of coffee and a light lunch. The whole morning flew by in a rush of colors and culture. It’s so easy to be interested in everything that’s before you because it’s just so vibrant. So full of life. Such a juxtaposition of history, tradition, and new influences. It’s one of the first times you’ve been somewhere and had to remind yourself that you are actually on a mission. You’re not just there to sightsee and fall in love.

There are a lot of tourists in the cafe, which doesn’t really surprise you. Most places in Buenos Aires stay open during the afternoon for tourism, but you know that cafes in smaller towns would close. You figure that most locals probably avoid shops during this time of day as well. It feels lucky when you spot an open table in the corner until another patron moves and you see there’s actually someone sitting in one of the seats. It’s an uncharacteristically awkward moment for you, especially given how confident you are with everything else, that he catches you mid-decision. His eyes meet yours before looking at the coffee in one hand and the plate in the other. When he looks back down at the table, it clicks into place before you can turn around.

“You, uh, can sit…” he starts with deliberate slowness that shouldn’t be throwing you off even more.

You shake your head to clear it and smile. “It’s fine, I don’t just speak Spanish.”

“Oh,” he says with a breath of relief. “Well, you can sit here.”

“I don’t want to intrude,” you say and go to turn around.

“It’s busy. Are you going to just eat standing up?” he asks with a challenging raise of his eyebrow.

“Well,” you start.

“I probably won’t be here much longer anyway,” he offers.

Reluctantly, you move to sit down with him. It’s kind of insane the way he’s thrown you off your game by just existing. Usually, you’re the one that’s disarming strangers with your charm, not the other way around. As soon as you sit down, he looks back at the book he has open in front of him. It gives you a chance to figure out if he’s actually that attractive that it’s thrown you off or if you’re still just jet-lagged.

His glasses slide down a nearly too perfect nose and he pushes them up without missing a beat. His black hair is a little messy and a little long, falling carelessly around his face as he gets lost in whatever book he has open in front of him. His clothes make him look a little too fancy to be sitting in a cafe overrun with tourists like this. Somehow, he makes a cardigan over a dress shirt with nice, pressed slacks work without looking like he’s trying too hard. Everything about him just exudes calm, confident energy. Like the kind of person you would assume comes from old money. Unassuming, yet standing out without even meaning to. It reminds you of some of the landmarks you saw that morning, like rich history perfectly combined with modern needs.

Thankfully, at least some of your training kicks back in and you manage to keep it from being too obvious that you’re one step away from fully checking him out. Your new tablemate seems content to sit in silence, though, so you pick at your food while going through some of the pictures on your camera. Today is about getting the lay of the land as much as anything else. It’s not like you can just find your infamous art thief without knowing where to look.

“I’m sure you got some great shots,” he says, drawing your attention again. When you look up, his eyes are on your camera.

“Oh, yeah, it’s so hard to really capture the feeling of something through a camera, but I definitely try,” you say.

“I saw you at The Obelisk and I thought, I’ve never seen someone so focused in my entire life,” he says, except now he’s looking at you.

“There must have been thousands of people there. How did you pick me out?” you ask with a laugh.

The mystery man shrugs. “Like I said, you were focused. And not in the way a lot of influencers who travel for the perfect picture are. I knew that it was more than that for you.”

“It is,” you agree. “I’m studying the history and the culture down here. Just got in last night.”

“Can I see the picture you landed on?” he ventures.

You hesitate. Your pictures are good, sure, but you’re not actually doing anything that serious when you’re down here. Since it’s supposed to be part of your cover, you should feel confident. After a moment, you hand your camera over to him with your favorite picture in the display window.

“Be kind. My focus is language and history first, not photography,” you toss out. Another layer to the cover. It’s convenient, though. Not that you expected to be talking to someone like him about photography.

“This is amazing,” he says and seems earnest. “Can I look through the rest?”

Again, you pretend to consider. This time it’s for the sake of the persona you’re committing to. It’s not like there’s anything on there from before today since it’s a fresh SD card.

“I promise to be kind,” he presses and you roll your eyes.

“Fine,” you say and he smiles.

It’s hard not to notice the amount of care he uses while handling your camera. Maybe he knows something about photography and realizes it’s an expensive model. Or maybe he’s just gentle with something that clearly means a lot to someone else. It’s also easier to feel like you can appreciate things about him when his attention is somewhere else. Like he won’t notice the way your eyes map his features, noting the furrow in his brows or how smooth his skin is. Or the way his hair seems absolutely perfect without any product in it. None of it seems fair that he should just get to walk around looking like that.

“I’m surprised not to find a picture of myself on here,” he starts and it pulls you from your thoughts. There’s a moment where you wonder if he’s secretly self-centered, until you meet his eyes and see the glint there. “You know, with how you’ve been studying me.”

“I appreciate beauty wherever I see it,” you answer, trying to channel more boldness than you feel.

“Are you saying I’m beautiful?” he questions, entirely too at-ease.

“I don’t think you need confirmation on that,” you scoff and look out the window. “Besides, it wasn’t me that noticed you earlier.”

“A shame for me,” he muses. “I appreciate beautiful things as well.”

He hands your camera back with his eyes locked on you. It makes your skin feel a little flushed and you hate it. Hate that you’re always able to keep your cool in any situation and still so completely disarmed by this man. Hate that it’s him that breaks the moment, too, when he looks down at the expensive watch on his wrist with a sigh.

“Late for something?” you venture.

“Something like that,” he agrees and puts his book away in a bag you hadn’t noticed. “I’m glad you sat down though.”

“Me too,” you admit a little too quickly as he’s standing up.

“Enjoy your afternoon, beautiful stranger,” he says and you twist around.

“Wait, I didn’t get your name,” you call and he stops by the door. The smile he throws your way sends a tingle down your spine.

“I hope we’ll run into each other again, then,” he says.

And just like that, he’s gone. Slips into the crowd like he wasn’t even there in the first place. It makes you wonder, just for a second, if the entire exchange actually happened. Until you look back at the table and see the cup of coffee he had been drinking. Beside it, you notice a small piece of paper advertising a new installation at one of the local art museums. Not entirely out of the question, you think, for someone visiting this city and also interested in seeing your camera.

It’s then that you remind yourself why you’re actually here. You shake your head to clear it of any thoughts of the stranger, knowing you can’t make any effort to run into him again. The mission is the only thing that matters. Getting close to someone that could distract you in that way is not part of the plan. So, you can appreciate the banter and get back on track.

The next few days pass relatively uneventfully. You continue to explore the city while always keeping your eyes and ears open for any indication of the art thief. It’s a little frustrating to not have much to go on, but you’re also one of the most patient agents and you know it’ll pay off eventually. Seungcheol keeps in regular contact, sending along each new nugget of information he’s able to find. Even if they’re seemingly insignificant, you file them all away, appreciating how hard you know he’s working given how few people know about the mission. He has to pull the relevant pieces to send to you without tipping off the team in Amsterdam.

You’re also splitting your days. Making sure to get out to experience the local culture to maintain your cover, while spending just as much time locked away in your room so that you can do your own research. Everything points to him already being in the city as well. It also seems like this next heist might be two-fold for him. It appears that he’s got a client that wants a specific piece of art and that he’s also going to steal some pieces for himself to sell at later dates. It’s a bit unusual, from what you’ve been able to tell. He usually likes to keep each job simple to reduce the likelihood of getting caught. Then again, he’s been active for years and doing just fine.

Today you decide to go to check out a museum that you’ve been putting off. It’s silly, but you didn’t want to show up there the day after that cafe since it seemed a little convenient to leave behind. You have to familiarize yourself with all the museums in the city, though, and it seems like this one could be your thief’s target. It has just the right amount of traffic. Just the right combination of popular pieces with lesser known artists.

Once you’re there, you immediately move away from the popular sections. That’s not the kind of art you’re after because it’s not the kind of art the thief ever steals. It’s too recognizable. Too hard to move. Just too risky. Once you’re in a quieter part of the museum, you fight off any feelings of being a fraud. Art has never really been your strong suit. If it weren’t for this mission being so sensitive, you definitely would not be the first agent anyone would choose. But, it is sensitive and so you have to rely on your training to carry you through any conversations that might pop up. You have to rely on the hours spent pouring over lectures about the different styles and influences, the different periods, different techniques. Hopefully your talent at rote memorization will serve you well.

“It’s a shame they keep one of the best artists tucked away in a corner like this,” a voice says from your side, pulling you from your thoughts.

You answer without even thinking much about the voice or even turning to see the person who appeared next to you nearly soundlessly. “Makes it easier to appreciate in peace, though.”

“You like surrealism, then?” he asks and it’s only then that you notice something familiar about the voice or the manner of speaking. Or the fact that he’s not speaking to you in Spanish.

Before you even turn to your side, you know who you’re going to find. He’s looking just as put together and at-ease as he did several days ago in the cafe. His hands rest in his pockets, but his eyes on you are sharp. There’s something a little hard to read about him, you think.

The smile you give him is practiced, designed to seem genuine. “I like Leonor Fini.”

“You’ve got good taste,” he says and turns back to the piece.

“I do like surrealism,” you carry on, turning back to the piece yourself as well, “but, with her work, I really appreciate the way she used female subjects through a female lens. Too many artists…”

You trail off, pretending you’re unsure if you should continue. He falls into the setup easily. “Men could only show female subjects through their own eyes, but women look different through the eyes of other women.”

“Exactly,” you say and smile at him before turning back to the painting again. “There’s something so captivating about the work she did.”

“I agree. That’s why this is my favorite piece here and in my favorite section of works,” he says confidently.

“You already have a favorite?” you joke.

“Well, I’ve been here every day for the past several days,” he shares.

This makes you turn to him fully. “Because you love this section and this work so much?”

This mysterious man actually looks down like he’s embarrassed to admit whatever he’s about to tell you. Like he’s gotten shy for a moment. “I do, but I was actually hoping to run into you.”

That catches you a bit off guard and it takes your brain a minute to remember, once again, you’re here on a mission. “It would have been easier to run into me if you just asked for my number.”

“Kind of ruins this whole mysterious thing I have going on, though,” he shrugs.

You roll your eyes and extend your hand, giving him your fake name for the mission. His eyes sparkle for a second before he takes your hand.

“Wonwoo,” he answers.

“Nice to finally get your name,” you tease.

“I figured you’d come check out the museum when I left the card there at the cafe,” Wonwoo says.

“I knew that was on purpose,” you mumble.

“Yet you didn’t come until today,” he observes.

“I wasn’t trying to make it easy on you,” you throw out quickly.

“Okay, time to switch tactics, then,” he says. “Can I take you to dinner tonight?”

“I’m not sure, can you?” you ask.

“Please let me take you to dinner,” he says.

It’s a bad idea and you know it. Everything about him screams distraction. This isn’t what you’re in Buenos Aires to do. Yet, there’s something about him that has you curious. There’s also the fact that this museum seems to be the most likely target for the art thief and this man admitted he’s been here every day. A small part of your brain is sending up alarm signals to keep an eye on him. He doesn’t seem like a secret art thief, but hasn’t your training taught you how to hide in plain sight? It’s entirely possible he’s doing the same.

Your brain goes into overdrive as it often does on missions. There are a million little details in the pages of your profile on the art thief. They come flooding back to you. The profile so thoughtfully pieced together by The Agency says he’s probably unassuming. The kind of man that fits into any situation in the same way as you do, like he’s not trying to fit in and it means he doesn’t stand out as not belonging. The profile suggests that he’s confident. That he would appear calm. Most importantly, he’s the kind of person that would absolutely look at home in the midst of art. So, whether it’s a good idea or not, you know you’re going to say yes. He must see the answer in your eyes before you voice it because he smirks.

“What time?”

Wonwoo offers to pick you up at your hotel, but you insist that you’ll meet him at the restaurant. It’s safer that way, after all, being a woman traveling alone. At least that’s what you tell him. Not that anything about Wonwoo seems that threatening and you’re better equipped to handle yourself than most. You just don’t need him anywhere near your room even with everything put away. After going back to get ready, you made time to pour over the information you have. The more you consider it, the more it seems plausible that he could be exactly who you’re looking for. There’s only one issue: he asked you out. Everything you have suggests that he made agents in the past and slipped into the wind. You’re not cocky enough to think you’re too good to fall victim to the same fate. You keep your update to Seungcheol vague in case the lead doesn’t pan out.

Surprisingly, Wonwoo picks a nice place off the beaten path for dinner. It’s not overrun with tourists and it’s not too expensive. Like him, it’s unassuming but quietly impressive. You try not to let your heart skip a beat when you see him in a simple white dress shirt and black dress pants. He stands to pull your seat out for you and then settles back into his seat across from you. This is for the sake of the mission. Either he’s the person you’re looking for or you’ll have enjoyed a free and tasty meal. Nothing more to it.

His Spanish, it turns out, isn’t that great and so you help him through ordering since it’s definitely a place more for the locals. Or maybe it’s just an excuse to get your help. You’re not really sure you mind either way. He makes suggestions about which wines he prefers, but ultimately lets you pick, insisting that he will take care of whatever you land on. Once you get through ordering and all the small talk, it gives you a chance to really get to know him.

“Have you been here before?” you ask.

“This restaurant or this city?” he asks.

“Either,” you shrug.

“No to both,” he answers. “Clearly, my Spanish is a bit rusty. I’m so lucky that I found someone who’s so fluent.”

“I’m not sure I believe you can’t speak the language,” you muse.

“I can speak enough Spanish to get by, but it’s not that good,” he assures you.

“Interesting place to visit, then,” you observe.

“I’d miss out on a lot of beauty if I only went where I spoke the language fluently,” he retorts and you smile genuinely at that. He’s right.

“Like the art in the museum?” you suggest.

“Or a charming stranger,” he counters. You’re impressed. “I do like the art as well, though.”

“What other beautiful places have you visited?” you ask.

“Oh, I hardly think it’s that interesting,” he dismisses.

“Humor me,” you say.

There’s a moment where he’s careful in listing off places. Like he’s weighing something that you can’t really place. He ends up listing some places that catch your attention. Each of them has some wonderful art museums and it piques your curiosity. You try to look just politely interested, commenting on how he’s lucky to be able to travel as extensively as he seems to. He plays it off with a vague comment about being fortunate with help from his family. It’s the kind of thing that you know passes on a first date. It’s not appropriate to mention money on a first date. So, that would be fine, if it didn’t also make you curious about who this man really was. After all, your art thief being well connected through family would definitely make sense.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, you try to enjoy it. Not that it’s hard to do. Wonwoo is actually a lot of fun to be around. The conversation flows easily and you’re able to connect on a lot of shared interests. At least, interests that you pretend to have for the sake of this mission. But, it feels like he might also be pretending on some of his interests. He’s just a little too calm and put together. A little too quick with his answers. A little too rehearsed with his comments. Maybe you wouldn’t think twice if you weren’t doing the same.

By the time you finish the main course, you’re pretty sure that you managed to stumble into a date with the exact person that you’re here looking for based on his stories. It may have been a guess before. It feels nearly for sure now. He mentions how you have to visit Japan when the cherry blossoms are blooming, which sounds stunning. He mentions Oktoberfest in Munich and how he barely remembers anything from that trip. Then there's the ice festival in China, Nordlysfestivalen in Norway, and a few other locations that sound beautiful. They also have one thing in common. Each place is also on your list for stolen art around the time of the events.

Once you finish dessert, you’re making a decision that you know you should really clear with someone else before making. Sure, you’re pretty sure that Wonwoo is the art thief. And yes, it’s true that keeping an eye on him is in your best interest. One way to do that is to continue with the date. Yet, you’re not stopping to check in with Seungcheol. You’re not analyzing the pros and cons of doing this. After giving Seungcheol a vague update about a lead and promising you’ll have more information later on, he should be the first person you call. He’s not swept up in the atmosphere of a foreign city with a gorgeous stranger. No, you don’t do any of that. You’re just agreeing to go back to his room with him without a second thought. He’s painfully hot and you’re incredibly attracted to him, which is wildly unprofessional. But, you’re not sure you care. At least for the night. You can figure it all out later.

Wonwoo is quietly confident without being cocky. His gaze is so penetrating that it feels like he’s undressing you without it being slimy. He can hold a conversation about seemingly anything, but he’s also just as interested in what you have to say. In fact, you have his attention the whole night, regardless of anything else going on. It’s a little overwhelming to have someone so focused on you. But, when it feels a little overwhelming, he makes a perfectly timed, slightly sarcastic joke that makes you laugh harder than you should. The smile you wear all throughout the date is genuine. You’re actually enjoying yourself so much that you’re not sure you want it to end. Life has never felt so simultaneously complicated and easy.

Wonwoo’s lips are hot on yours as he cages you against the door of his hotel room. That intensity you saw all dinner reappears and you feel like you might burn under his touch. He’s so in control. You’re still not entirely sure how you wound up here, but you’re not really trying to think too hard about it. The fact that he’s almost definitely the art thief becomes an issue for future-you the second he kisses you like it’s your last day on Earth. It’s not like he knows you’re tracking his movements and it isn’t exactly a bad thing to keep a closer eye on him. Nor is it the first time you’ve done something like this. It is the first time you’ve done it without thought, though, and genuinely been interested in the man you let seduce you.

He has his body pressed against yours with his arms on either side of you so there really is nowhere to go. It’s kind of hot and you’re not even pretending to be turned on. A definite bonus. Your hands quickly undo his belt so that you can pull the edges of his shirt out. The moment your hands make contact with his skin, he pulls away and hisses. They’re likely cold, not that you care. It gives you the chance to catch his lower lip between your teeth. You watch his eyes darken with lust as you run your hands up his back, scratching down lightly.

“Just who do you think is in control here, baby?” His voice is so low in your ear that it makes you swallow hard. Everything about the endearment sounds sarcastic and it shouldn’t work, but you’re only human. Then he nips at your earlobe and you actually moan.

“What are you going to do about it?” you challenge. It feels like a lot of heat between you. If your head were clearer, you might consider that it feels like two people who know they shouldn’t be fucking. Almost like he’s punishing you a little, which he might want to, given why you’re here.

“That’s a dangerous question,” he warns you.

“Afraid I can’t handle it?” you ask and watch the way it nearly breaks his composure. You press forward into him, pulling him down so his ear is by your mouth now. Barely raise your voice above a whisper. “I’m not that fragile. I can handle a little pain.”

That seems to set him off. You’re worried for a second when he pulls away, but that disappears as you watch his nimble fingers rapidly undoing the buttons on his shirt. He casts it aside and looks back at you.

“I want you stripped naked and on the bed,” he commands.

You’re not typically in the habit of taking commands but something about him makes you want to listen. Even if you want to challenge him a little. He turns his back and you do strip down. Mostly. You climb onto the bed wearing only your panties, legs spread open and waiting for him. When he turns around, you miss the flare of his nostrils at your defiance looking at his muscles. For someone so unassuming, he was certainly in good shape.

“Is this your idea of naked?” he questions.

It’s funny, since he’s still got his boxer briefs on, though they leave little to the imagination. You can already see that he’s getting hard from the lead up.

“I thought I’d leave that honor for you,” you say, injecting as much innocence as you can muster into every word.

Wonwoo looks at you for another long second before climbing onto the bed and getting between your legs. He pushes them further open and you bite down on your lip.

“You don’t get to muffle those moans from me, sweetheart,” he teases, running a hand up the inside of your thigh.

“Or what?” you challenge again.

He raises an eyebrow at you and pulls his hand away from your thigh. You’re about to whine when he brings it back in a sharp slap.

“Shit,” you hiss.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he asks. You nod with big eyes. “Use your words.”

“Fuck, yes, I liked it,” you rush out the second his finger traces a light line up your clothed cunt.

“I can tell,” he snarks. “Just tell me if it’s too much.”

“It won’t be,” you insist. He pulls his hand away and looks at you surprisingly soft for a second.

“Tell me if it is,” he repeats.

“I will,” you promise.

“Good,” he says and hooks his fingers inside the band of your panties, pulling them down your legs and casting them aside in one motion. “That’s better.”

In another surprise, Wonwoo doesn’t dive right into your cunt the way you expect him to given how frenzied everything has been so far. Instead, he trails kisses from your knee up your inner thigh. Pausing occasionally to nip into the skin before running his tongue over the mark to soothe it. You’re writhing on the bed by the time his breath ghosts across your cunt. The chuckle is low and deep as you squirm when he moves to your other thigh. You’re going to die before he even touches you.

“Jesus fuck, Wonwoo, if you don’t start eating me out…” you start, a hand winding into his hair.

He pops up and glares at you. “You’ll what? Did you already forget who’s in charge?”

“I’ll…” you start, before cutting off with a sharp, “FUCK!”

He’s still got his eyes on you when his thumb runs quickly through your folds to press against your clit. There’s barely any movement but it anchors you in place. “That’s what I thought.”

His kisses up your other thigh are much sloppier with a thumb still in place. It only makes you squirm more, searching for some kind of relief. When he finally gets to your lips, you expect he’s going to tease you again. You’re wrong. Again. His tongue dives into your pussy while his other hand keeps you spread open. This man knows what he’s doing and it’s immediately more than you’re expecting. You can’t stop your legs from snapping closed to box him in. That is, until he pulls his hands off you to spread your legs wide again, giving him the best access to you. It’s clear that he’s in charge and he wants you to know it.

It’s everything you can do not to thrash around, but Wonwoo seems to be ready to help there. He’s got a hand on your stomach anchoring you down to the bed. You’re not even sure how he’s got enough hands to move them along your body the way he seems to. Without warning, he moves his mouth up to pay attention to your clit. And he doesn’t give you a break, sliding two fingers into you and immediately scissoring them open. He sets a brutal pace, curling his fingers to hit you where he seems to know you need him on some of the passes.

“Fuck, Wonwoo, oh my god, fuck,” you scream out.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he sneers at you from between your legs.

“Yes, fuck,” you moan. “Your fingers, oh my god.”

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans.

In the next moment, you’re coming so hard you squirt over those amazing fingers of his. Your vision whites out around the edges and your toes are curling. It’s all you can do to catch your breath as Wonwoo’s fingers pump through the high.

“I don’t remember the last time I came that hard,” you admit.

“We’re not done yet,” he shares and the tone of his voice has you nearly clenching your legs together. “Turn over. Get on your hands and knees.”

“So bossy,” you say with a roll of your eyes. You turn over anyway, though, and put your ass in the air.

“This is a really good fucking view,” he says. You feel the bed dip when he gets back in place after removing his boxers.

Wonwoo has one hand on your hip and the other is running up your back to press you down further. To help you get that perfect arch of your back. You wiggle your ass at him and are rewarded with a stinging smack. Your moan is muffled by the pillow, so you turn your head to the side. Already know he wants to hear you. When he smacks your other ass check, you nearly scream out.

“That’s it, I want to hear you,” he encourages.

“Please, Wonwoo, just fuck me already,” you beg.

“One orgasm wasn’t enough?” he asks and you can hear the cockiness in his voice. Bringing a ringing smack down on your ass again. You scream out at the sting.

“No, I want you to split me open,” you whine. In any other situation you might be embarrassed by the admission, but not now. Not with him. Not when it’s so clearly turning him on.

“Greedy little thing,” he comments. His fingers press into your cunt again and you nearly yelp.

There’s no time to adjust when Wonwoo removes his fingers and immediately lines himself up at your entrance. With one snap of his hips, he’s fully inside you and you’re hissing. He’s bigger than you were guessing, even with the outline in his boxers. And he doesn’t give you a break as he starts fucking you hard. All you can hear is the sound of his skin slapping against yours and the mingled moans from both of you. You’re sensitive from both the pace and the earlier orgasm. Your legs feel like they would collapse under you if they could.

As if the pace isn’t enough, Wonwoo snakes an arm around you to reach for your clit, rubbing circles into it at the same pace as his thrusts. You can tell he’s nowhere near close, but you’re about to lose control again and you’re not sure how to stop it.

“Fuck, Wonwoo, slower, I’m going to - fuck!” you whine out.

“You gonna come again? So soon, baby?” he taunts.

“I can’t - fuck, please,” you beg. “I’m so close.”

“I want you to make a mess of my dick the same way you made a mess of my fingers,” Wonwoo directs.

“But you haven’t…” you start and Wonwoo removes his hand from your clit. You cry out at the loss until his other hand grabs your hair to yank you back against his chest. When it’s clear you’re not going to move, his hand moves from your hair to your throat.

“I want you to come for me. Right now. Show me how good I feel inside that tight pussy,” he directs.

It’s one of the most surprising reactions, the way your body immediately responds to him. He’s got you coming just as hard as the first time and he doesn’t give you a chance to second guess any of it. As the shocks rip through your body, you notice that Wonwoo does slow down his thrusts. Doesn’t pull out of you, though. You collapse forward and arch your back again so it’s easier to meet Wonwoo’s continued pace.

“You’re so good at listening,” he praises.

“Not usually,” you mumble into the pillow through the haze.

“I must be special,” he says as he lazily fucks into you.

“Jesus Wonwoo, you can fuck me. I know you haven’t finished yet,” you grumble.

“In a rush to go somewhere?” he teases.

“No, but it must be…well, I don’t know. Hard for you,” you mumble into the sheets.

“I’ve got excellent control,” Wonwoo says, all confidence. “I’m not in a rush to end this.”

Despite your instance, he continues to lazily snap his hips into you. It’s so slow, way too slow. He reaches down to pull you up against his chest again, still keeping the pace. His hands are on your breasts, squeezing them to anchor you to him. He rolls one of your nipples roughly between his fingers to see what he gets as a reaction. Your moan seems to spur him on further. Each time pain shoots through some part of your body, it only seems to turn you on more. It’s easy to forget why you agreed to this in the first place.

For all the demands, Wonwoo is actually very attentive as well. He peppers kisses from behind your ear all the way down your shoulder and back, paying special attention to the areas that seem to get the best response from you. He’s also careful with where he nips you, never biting hard enough to leave a mark somewhere that couldn’t be easily hidden. The entire experience has been so all-consuming that there isn’t space for any other thoughts in your head. It’s just him and this hotel room that’s entirely too fancy.

He must feel that you’re starting to get worked up because he pushes you back down into the bed. His pace finally picks up again, which is good because you’re sprinting towards being too sore to actually enjoy it anymore. The pace gets much faster again, not nearly as rhythmic as before. His fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts. It’s the first time it actually feels like he’s losing control.

“Oh my god,” you cry out. “I’m gonna come again. Oh my god!”

“Me too,” he groans through a stuttered breath. “Fuck, where can I come?”

“I don’t care,” you cry out. You’re about to have your third orgasm. “On my back, on my ass, I don’t fucking care, just come with me.”

You press a finger to your clit to try and help you over that last bit to tumble over the edge so that Wonwoo can chase his own relief. The second your body starts shaking, you feel him pull out. He must pump his cock a few times because there’s a slight delay before you feel something hit your back. You feel a little proud with how much cum you feel on your skin, like maybe he was a little more affected by you than he wanted to let on.

As soon as Wonwoo lays down next to you on the bed, you also collapse onto your side. The bed is soft, but your knees are still a little sore from spending so much time on them. Wonwoo immediately pulls you into him so that he can kiss you breathless. His hand is behind your head, keeping you from pulling away. The chemistry between the two of you is intense. Not something you were prepared for. It’s clear that if one of you doesn’t stop, then you’ll be fucking him again. And your body needs a break.

“I should get cleaned up,” you say when you pull back, more than slightly breathless.

“Let me just get cleaned up a little and then you can take a shower,” he says.

He presses a kiss to your temple and then gets up off the bed. There’s no point in pretending you aren’t watching him as he walks to the bathroom. He’s all lean lines and unexpected muscles. Nobody should be allowed to look the way he does, to look so good that Greek gods would be jealous. And yet here he is.

A few minutes later, he emerges from the bathroom and arches an eyebrow at you. There’s a towel slung low around his hips in a way that should be a sin. “You’re going to make me think that you want more.”

“I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to stand,” you joke as an answer.

It surprises you a little when he comes over to the bed and helps you up. That is, until you see the way his eyes take you in. There’s nothing soft there, only predatory. Like you’re a meal he wants to return to. Your brain still feels a little slow to catch up, but registers something like he’s analyzing you. Still, he helps you get to the bathroom, points out the toiletries, and then disappears back into the room.

By the time you’re clean and wrapped in the softest bathrobe you’ve ever worn, Wonwoo is sitting at the table wearing shorts and his glasses with nothing else. He’s scrolling absently through his phone and picking at some snacks that hadn’t been there when you had gone to shower. You didn’t think you’d been in there long, so it’s surprising he was able to get something up so quickly. When he notices you’re out of the bathroom, he indicates the food.

“I ordered us some snacks and they were happy to get them up here quickly,” he says.

You take a seat across from him a little apprehensively. This is the part that you hadn’t really considered. How do you excuse yourself from the situation in a way that ensures you’ll see him again? It’s not that you want to have a repeat, though there’s part of your brain that is not opposed like you should be. It’s just…well with the room and the toiletries and the fast room service, you’re sure that this is the man you’re looking for. Which, admittedly, might make things a little complicated. But, you do have a job to do.

“I guess I am hungry,” you admit and reach for something.

“Glad you’re not going to make me eat alone,” he muses.

“You already paid for dinner and drinks, I wasn’t expecting more treats,” you admit.

“Seems fitting after the mindblowing sex,” he says and watches you, a clear glint to his eyes. “I can’t get over how insanely hot it was to watch you squirt for me.”

Your cheeks redden without your permission. He’s so free with admitting it even with the moment having passed. Maybe he’s more trouble than you realized.

“Seems like I wasn’t the only one to enjoy myself if my back is any indication,” you toss out.

“I really enjoyed the way you told me I could come on your back,” he shares.

“And my ass,” you remind him.

“I got that too,” he reminds you. “And what a nice ass it is.”

“Careful or I’ll ask you to blow my back out again,” you say, voice slightly betraying that you’re affected by his very presence.

“That makes me think you were going to head out and never see me again,” Wonwoo ventures.

“I haven’t decided yet,” you say, trying to be coy.

Wonwoo fixes you with a stare that you can’t quite decipher. It nearly makes you squirm under the intensity. Is he just like that? The kind of person that does everything with that burning look in his eyes.

“Let me ask you something, Agent,” he begins and your mouth runs dry. You do everything you can not to let him know that you’re a second away from losing it. “Do you fuck all your targets? Or am I special?”

The way he smirks at you lets you know that he knows he’s onto something. Knows exactly who you are. Or maybe who you work for, at least. He’s made you and you’re not entirely sure you’re safe anymore. You’re also not entirely sure what the best move is. Probably take half a second too long to decide if his face is any indication.

“Agent? Target?” you laugh out. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t you?” he presses. “Really, we shouldn’t be lying to each other so early in the relationship.”

“I’m here doing…” you start.

“Research, yes. That’s what you said. And you almost had me when it took so long to run into you again. Your Spanish is flawless. It doesn’t sound like someone that learned at some secret agency. You’re much better at languages than any of the other agents that have come after me. And waiting so long to meet me again, genius. It really had me second guessing who you were,” he says. “But then, you made a mistake. Do you know what it was?”

“Going on a date with someone that’s clearly a little delusional?” you ventured. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do,” he says, confident. “I’ll tell you where you fucked up. It was dinner tonight. No, not something you said or did because you were shockingly smooth with it. It’s that you agreed to it at all. I suggested a place no researcher would ever go to. Because it used to be the site of a religious monument, but it fell into disrepair. A local crime family took it over. Only locals bother going there, but no researcher ever would.”

Your heart sinks. Through all your research and all your planning, you knew that you would never be able to get everything. There just wasn’t the time. So, you had to hope that the person you were chasing wouldn’t notice any small missteps. Or would write them off with your cover story. What you had not planned for was this. In all your careful consideration, you had not planned to go on a date with the art thief himself. He had you and he knew it. It’s hard to see the right path out of this.

It had been a gamble to get close to him the way you had. A gamble that you questioned taking and took anyway. A gamble you took without clearing it with Seungcheol. Usually, getting close to a target this way, you talk to him to make sure that he thinks it’s a good idea too. Make sure that this kind of move will fit the profile for the person that you’re chasing. This time, you’re flying blind. You had gotten a little ahead of yourself. A little sloppy. This isn’t the type of work you’re known for. It’s not the reason that you were sent down to Buenos Aires to chase him on a secret mission.

“One mistake,” you sigh with a shake of your head.

“Yeah, just the one,” he agrees.

“So why did you invite me back here?” you ask.

Wonwoo shrugs. “I’m curious about you.”

“Curious? You risked inviting me back to your actual hotel room over curiosity?” you ask, looking around.

“Who’s to say this is actually my room?” he says with another casual shrug. You clock it on his face as soon as he says it.

“No, it is your actual room. The comfort, the speed of the room service, the way things are laid out. It’s not staged. This is just where you’re staying,” you observe. That makes him smile in a way you’re not expecting.

“Good eye,” he agrees. “Now for my question. Do you fuck all your targets?”

“No,” you say shortly.

“Why even agree to go on a date with me, then?” he presses.

You sigh and sit further back into your chair. Take a piece of fruit from the table to buy yourself some time. “I don’t know. It wasn’t a good decision, obviously. I wasn’t even sure you were my target. There was just…something about you.”

“So you’ve never fucked a target before? I’m special?” he asks with a smirk.

“I didn’t say that,” you respond. “I just don’t usually fuck a target without clearing it first.”

“Who knows you’re here with me?” he asks.

“Nobody,” you answer. It’s too honest.

You’re not sure if you should have admitted that and even less sure if he’ll believe you. It is the truth, though. Nobody in the world knows where you are right now. It’s kind of a crossroads for you because Wonwoo isn’t dangerous. He’s never been violent, as far as your information shows. Despite being physically separated from your bag, you’re not exactly unarmed. And yes, he does look like he’s in shape, but you’re still confident that you can take him if it comes to that. Once again, your mind is running through a million calculations a second as you realize you definitely should have talked to Seungcheol.

“I’m trying to figure you out,” he admits.

“How’s that going?” you ask sarcastically.

“Not as well as it would normally,” he says. It’s something else that’s honest between the two of you. More honest than you’re expecting. “Most people are too easy to figure out. It’s boring. Nothing about you makes sense to me.”

“And what about me is so difficult for you to figure out?” you ask, still lacing your words with sarcasm.

“You know, despite me figuring out that you’re after me, you’re actually the best agent that they’ve ever sent. You fit into your role seamlessly. You’re just the right amount of charming. You blend into your surroundings because you don’t try to do anything to dull yourself. Against my better judgment, I am impressed. And yet, you still decided to come on the date. You’re clearly the best they have and you’re still here,” he says, gaze soft but analytical on you.

“I’m going to keep my mouth shut,” you say carefully.

“Why?” he asks.

“You disarm me,” you admit. “I know so much about you and yet, here I am. Unwilling to leave even though you know what I’m here to do.”

“Do you still want to turn me in?” he asks.

“Are you going to disappear into the wind the second I walk out that door?” you counter.

He regards you for a moment. A moment too long, really. It makes you squirm in your seat. This isn’t going at all how you would have imagined. “No.”

“Why?” you ask.

“Because I’m waiting to see how this whole thing plays out. You haven’t said that you want to turn me in. I can see you’re conflicted about it. So, I’m going to see how this plays out,” he answers. He holds up a hand when you open your mouth. Seems to predict you’re going to ask why again. “Because…okay, look. I know this is really weird. I know you’re here to try and find me. But, you’re actually interesting and that sex was fucking good. So, I don’t know, call me cocky. I’m not ready to let you walk away just yet.”

“If I can walk at all,” you grumble.

“You were walking just fine from the bathroom. Maybe I need to really make sure you can’t walk,” he muses.

The eye contact is too much and you turn your head away. You’re positive he’s onto you, especially when you carefully cross your legs. It’s just that he’s right, isn’t he? You can sit here and pretend that you only slept with him to keep him close while you tried to figure him out. Can say that it was all just part of the job and you didn’t enjoy it. Can say that you wanted to take a different approach since nobody else has been able to catch him.

That’s also very clearly a lie.

Seungcheol likes to know what his agents are up to, particularly when it comes to agents like you that deal with secret missions. Since you started as friends before he had to retire to his desk, he’s also very protective of you. He hates it when you suggest using your charm on a target like this. So, no, this isn’t just another target. This is something else entirely. You have to admit that you actually enjoyed it. That you would like to do it again. That you actually don’t even want to leave his room because you’re not convinced you’ll ever see him again. Which is really stupid, isn’t it? You should not care if you never see him again. Unless it means that you failed your mission. That’s not why you’re worrying about never seeing him again, though.

Just as you’re about to open your mouth and say something else, your phone chirps from your bag. It’s a sign. You know it is. The sound is tied to Seungcheol. Which means he’s looking for a check-in. Which means you’re late, something that never happens with you. You’re standing up to get your phone before even realizing it. Wonwoo’s eyes track your movements.

Cheol: hope you’re enjoying your trip! Send pictures when you can

It’s code. Sent through a normal message so that it doesn’t look suspicious. And so that it gives you the chance to ignore it if you’re not in a place where you can answer him. You don’t even hear Wonwoo approach as you’re mentally calculating how to respond to this.

“Is that code?” he asks and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of his low voice by your ear. God, nobody should have a voice like his.

“It’s my handler, I guess you could say,” you answer.

“Are you going to call him?” he asks.

“He’ll worry if I don’t,” you say and realize it’s true.

Wonwoo steps around you to grab his own phone and then returns to his position at the table. “I’ll be quiet if you want to call.”

There’s something kind of hot about how he says it. Like he doesn’t actually want to let you leave. Or like it’s an order to stay. You’re not sure if you’re reading too much into it. When you look over at him, his eyes are on his phone, but his lips turn up in a smile. He knows your eyes are on him and he’s still playing a game. A game that you just might lose, for the first time in your life.

With a sigh, you shake your head and just fire off a text in response. You don’t have it in you to call Seungcheol and you also aren’t exactly sure what to say. He’s always been able to read your tone like it’s his own. After telling him you might have a lead, he’s going to know something is wrong. This is going to be a problem.

You: it’s been amazing, i’m loving each new thing i get to see in person. I’ll have some pictures to show you tomorrow!

It’s a signal that you’re not going to have anything new to share with him tonight and not to contact you again until you check in the next day. You’re not really sure if this is the right decision, but you need time to clear your head. This is the only way that you can see getting that. It’s too hard to think about making a decision when Wonwoo is still half naked and looking at you like you’re prey. At least you can assume that you could take him if you needed to. Thankfully, he’s not really looking at you like that kind of prey.

“I’ll call him tomorrow,” you say.

“And what will you do tonight?” Wonwoo asks, looking up at you.

“I’m all yours, at least for tonight,” you say.

You’re surprised the look he gives you doesn’t melt you into the floor. “I can work with that.”

The next day brings more confusion than the night before. At least you’re back in your own hotel room and out of the intoxicating orbit of Wonwoo. The downside is that you couldn’t leave his bed without agreeing to lunch plans with him. Both of you wanted to get breakfast together, but hadn’t been able to get out of bed in time for that. You turned down his offer to just buy you new clothes so you wouldn’t have to leave his sight. Thankfully, he does seem to understand that you need a minute to process everything in the last 24 hours. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind.

That’s not what you need to focus on right now, though. You don’t have any more messages from Seungcheol, which is what you expected. Still, you need to call him before he doesn’t something to check on you. Like sending Chan to your hotel with some made up story. You don’t want to put anyone in that position. You also don’t really know what you’re going to say. When you left Wonwoo’s hotel room, he made it clear: the choice was yours. He wants to see you again and he also knows that he’s asking a lot. Too much, probably. So, he’s giving you a choice. If you show up at lunch to meet him, then you’re at least willing to get to know him a little more before deciding anything. If you stand him up, then he’ll know you can’t agree to that. It’s a major gamble for him because you know what he looks like and his real name. You have more than you need to put an end to years of his hard work.

Nothing in your life has prepared you for this. Not really. Sure, you train for missions and you perfect your skills. But, emotions have never been part of it. It’s always been so easy to separate your humanity from your job. Kind of like you just switch of anything that makes you normal and go into mission-mode. You once compared it to being an actor because you’re just playing a part. None of it is real and none of it is really your decision. This is uncharted territory for you.

Once you catch your breath, you pull a device out of the secret pocket in your bag so that you can connect it to your phone. It’ll scramble the signals and make the line secure so that you can call Seungcheol. It’s a bit of normalcy that you’re craving in the madness around you.

“Finally, I’ve been worried,” Seungcheol answers.

“I answered you right away,” you point out.

“Yes, to say that you would not be calling me,” Seungcheol presses and you sigh.

“Because I don’t have anything new to report,” you say without even realizing when you made the decision. The lie flows so easily. “I’ve been cataloging everything on everyone I see at the museums and galleries. Cross checking the names coming into the country. Surveying anyone that sticks out as I check things out.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Seungcheol cuts in.

“I’m here to find him, though,” you point out. You’re not sure why you’re doing this.

“I know,” he says. “But, I’d rather you be safe.”

“I’m always safe,” you lie. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to pick up on it.

“I know, but I also know you’re competitive,” he says. “Remember, we’ve already sent no less than 6 teams to find him and they’ve all failed.”

“I don’t fail, though. That’s why you sent me,” you say. You’re not even sure why you’re arguing with him.

“Just be careful. What happened with that lead you thought you had?” he asks.

“A dead end,” you say with a practiced sigh. “Does the intelligence say he’s still in the city?”

“I can’t imagine he’d leave without taking anything,” Seungcheol says.

“Good point,” you say. “I’ll keep looking.”

“Do you want me to send back-up?” he asks.

“It’s your mission,” you say noncommittally. “If you think it’ll help and we can still fly under the radar, then by all means.”

“I was thinking of Chan since he’s still kind of in the area,” he says.

“Ah, yeah, I’m not sure,” you admit.

“You’re right, I know. I do want you to formally meet him soon, though. But, definitely not mid-mission,” he agrees. “Just be careful and keep me updated. If it goes on too long, we’ll just pull you. Maybe he got spooked.”

“Yeah, that works,” you agree.

“See you when you’re back,” he says.

“See you,” you answer and hang up.

It feels awful to lie to him, of all people. He’s one of the only people that you’ve ever trusted in your life. The only one that knows exactly who you are, knows all your demons, and still accepts you. He knows just how many people are six feet under because of you, knows the ways you’ve had to use your body, knows the lies you’ve told and the people you’ve hurt, both physically and emotionally. He knows all your scars and he accepts it. Because you know all his scars, too. It sucks to lie to him.

Sometimes they say that indecision is still a decision. That’s where you are now. You can say that you haven’t made a decision about what you’re going to do with Wonwoo. You can say that you’re waiting for more information. But, in a way, you’ve made at least one decision in his favor. You didn’t tell Seungcheol that your lead turned out to be the art thief himself. No. Instead, you’re showering and getting ready to meet him again, about to make yet another decision. Maybe you were always going to agree to lunch rather than stand him up. He’s got a lot to lose here too. It’s far more complicated than it should be.

Your head is a little in the clouds by the time you leave your room to head down to the lobby and out into the comfortable winter air. If you spend a little more time than strictly necessary making sure you look nice, well that’s your business. The only drawback is that you don’t have Wonwoo’s phone number, at your own insistence, and so he may think you decided to stand him up. That worry lasts as long as it takes for you to reach the lobby. That’s where you see him, sitting casually in an armchair with his eyes locked on you. There’s no reason for the way your heart skips over such a simple outfit. It’s just a t-shirt and a leather jacket. Why are you nearly losing your mind?

“What are you doing here?” you ask and he gives you the most charming smile you’ve ever seen. It probably even puts your own smile to shame.

“I took a chance that you would decide in my favor,” he says and stands up.

“Confident,” you say, “but still, I was supposed to meet you at the restaurant since I hadn’t decided.”

“It’s a date. I’m picking you up,” he says and surprises you by placing a gentle kiss on your cheek .

“Isn’t that chivalrous of you,” you comment while trying to convince your heart to stop beating out of your chest.

“Shall we?” he asks and motions for you to walk ahead of him.

The chivalry doesn’t stop at picking you up at your hotel, unfortunately for you. He opens the door and then gently takes your hand. There’s a hand on your back when you step around him. He puts himself between you and any traffic. It’s the best anyone has ever treated you and you hate that you’re even noticing that. Now, you’re thinking that you should have stood him up for an entirely different reason.

Lunch feels like the most normal thing in the world. The real reason for being in this beautiful city doesn’t come up at all. Instead, you talk about life and interests. The type of music and food that you like. What you do in your free time. It’s exactly what you imagine first or second dates to be like. Not that you have much experience with actually dating.

It only gets deeper from there with Wonwoo telling you more about himself. Not about how he really makes money, but it certainly helps you understand how he got involved and how he stays under the radar. As it turns out, he comes from a lot of money. He doesn’t say it in a way that sounds like he’s bragging. It makes sense, though. Everything about him screams old money, which fits the profile you put together. The way he carries himself, the way he speaks, the way he dresses. It doesn’t feel like someone that’s made his money from stealing art. You learn that he’s involved in a lot of charities, which surprises you a bit. You also learn that he sponsors students in a video game design program in his home country. There’s so much more to him than stealing art. In fact, that seems to be such a small part of who he is. It’s more than a little surprising, which is odd since it’s usually so hard to surprise you. It’s clear that he’s grown up around art. All this time and he’s just been hiding in plain sight.

The two of you sit at lunch for so long that the servers finally, very politely, indicate that it’s time to leave. It’s never been this easy to sit with someone in your entire life. It’s a level of comfort that you should absolutely not feel with someone like Wonwoo. But, you can’t help it. You can’t help the way you feel around him. Can’t really fight the feelings that keep threatening to bubble up.

The roads aren’t nearly as busy when you walk back towards your hotel. Even though it’s a tourist city, it still quiets down in the mid-afternoon when the local businesses close down. The tourists seem to use the time to also relax or take advantage of certain monuments being quieter. It lends itself to the comfortable silence that settles around you and Wonwoo on the walk.

When you reach the lobby, you turn to face Wonwoo and your breath catches a little. The sun in July isn’t as strong, but it still provides a backlight like he’s some sort of dark angel. Which sounds insane, even if your head. There have been so many beautiful people in your life, yet this is the one that has you forgetting how to put words together. It’s like he knows exactly what you’re thinking when he steps into your space and takes your face in his hands. He kisses you so fiercely that you forget your name. It’s the kind of kiss that doesn’t look like much from the outside, but changes your entire world on the inside.

“Well how am I supposed to go back to my room and leave you now?” you ask against his lips when he pulls back. You can feel the smile on his own lips when he kisses you again.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he whispers.

“No,” you whisper back and kiss him again.

“I don’t want you to leave me,” he says.

That makes you pull back sharply so that you can search his face. Does he realize how that sounds? It makes you wonder if he means more than just tonight. What is he trying to do to you? How many ways can one man make you reconsider everything you stand for? Nothing about his face looks smug or even insincere. In fact, he looks the way you imagine you feel. A little smitten and a lot unsure of what to do next.

“And what would I do instead?” you ask, though you have an idea where he’s going.

“Go pack a bag of some of your things and come stay with me for the next few days,” he requests. It’s just bordering on a demand, even though it’s clearly your call.

“Are you crazy? We barely know each other,” you protest without much heat.

“What better way to get to know each other?” he counters. He grabs your hips, pulling you close to his body so he can wrap his arms around you. “And think about it. I can see you’re still not sure what you want to do. If you’re with me, you’ll know where I am at all times. I can’t get into any trouble while you’re still deciding.”

“I suppose you do make a point,” you concede.

“I have never done anything this reckless in my life. So, I’m just asking for a chance,” he shares.

It’s a little insane for him to say this is the most reckless thing he’s done in his life. Surely, stealing art is crazier than this. Which would make you lean towards not believing him if it weren’t for the voice in the back of your head. That little voice that agrees with him. You’ve put your life in danger more times than you can count, but saying yes to the man in front of you feels like the most dangerous idea yet. Maybe it’s because you know it’s not your body you’re putting on the line, but your heart. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what he means too. That he’s never taken the chance to chase someone like this. Or maybe you just want to believe that you might be special.

All you can do is nod at him and watch the smile that breaks across his face. It’s honest, unguarded. It’s real. There’s nothing behind it except genuine happiness that you agreed to spend the next few days with him. Before you can second guess your decision, you give him one more kiss and nearly run up to your room.

Being separated from him gives you the chance to actually catch your breath. To focus on what you need to bring with you. Since, apparently, you’re not going to reconsider if this is actually a good idea or not. You know you should. You know that this is another one of those moments that you chalk up to indecision when your actual decision could not be any louder. Again, you’re reminded of what you’re doing here. What you’re supposed to be doing here. This man is your enemy. He’s the person you’re supposed to be arresting and bringing into The Agency to face sentencing. You’re a good agent. You always put the mission ahead of yourself, your thoughts, your beliefs, or even your relationships. This isn’t a version of yourself that you recognize and it should stop you in your tracks.

Instead, you decide which dress to pack away and what pair of shoes looks best. For the first time in your life, you’re diving in first and asking questions later. Or never.

It shouldn’t be surprising that you end up naked in Wonwoo’s bed minutes after crossing the threshold to his hotel room. Not with how things have gone so far for the two of you. Yet, what is surprising is that the sex is even better than the night before. You’re catching your breath, tucked into Wonwoo’s side, body tacky with sweat but so impossibly happy. His hand that’s around you absently traces patterns into your skin. It’s honestly like you’ve known him for years. It’s insane to realize how comfortable you feel when that’s not something you ever experience. Not like this.

It’s also shocking to you how much this man wants to share with you. He carries on your chats from lunch as if he hadn’t just fucked you into his mattress yet again. Like this means more than some dirty sex holed up in a hotel in a foreign city. Makes you feel like you might actually mean something to him, which is a very dangerous feeling to have. Both of you know that this can’t mean more than what it is. At least, you think you know that and you think he might too. But, there’s a clear understanding that you won’t talk about it. Not now, at least.

Wonwoo decides that he wants to take you somewhere fancy for dinner. The type of place that you would never consider going to while on a mission. Though, you’re always prepared for anything. When you were packing up your things in your hotel room, you even grabbed a couple nicer dresses. All they needed was a quick steam, which the hotel staff had been only too happy to accommodate. Any protests about it being too much fell on deaf ears. He was set and the two of you were going to a famous restaurant. All you had to do was shower and get ready. Your dress would be ready by the time you needed it.

It’s clear you don’t really understand the limits to Wonwoo’s wealth, if there even are any, when you arrive at the restaurant. It’s the kind of place where you usually need reservations well in advance. It’s not the kind of place you can just show up at. Despite that, the host leads you back to a semi-private area where you’re tucked into a corner booth. It’s clearly one of the nicest tables in the place. You think you catch Wonwoo sliding the host something when he shakes their hand before he turns back to you. All thoughts go out the window when he slides in right next to you, not leaving any space.

Wonwoo’s Spanish really is very remedial and so you help him decipher the menu and order. It gives you pause when there aren’t prices anywhere on the menu, but he’s quick to wave off any concerns. Insists that it’s his treat. You don’t want to think that’s something you could get used to. It isn’t like you have any real trouble affording nice things. Your salary is high and you don’t have much to spend money on. This is a different level, though. It’s even different from the times you’ve gone on a mission and charmed your target. That always feels temporary. Like you’re something of an imposter. You don’t get those feelings here with Wonwoo.

Letting him pick out which outfit you wore may have been a mistake. You discover this once you get your drinks and the waiter leaves you alone. His hand rests possessively on your thigh, against the bare skin of your leg exposed by the slit in your dress. His body is angled towards you and he’s encouraging you to continue telling your story. But, he has to know he’s distracting, too, with the way his hand slides further up your thigh. What started as arguably innocent ventures quickly into dangerous territory.

“You were saying?” he prompts. His hand is inside the fabric of your dress now, keeping you from pressing your thighs together like you want to.

“I, uh…” you stutter as he digs his hand into the soft flesh there. “Wonwoo, aren’t you worried?”

“About what?” he asks innocently.

“Getting caught,” you hiss and look down at your lap.

“No, sweetheart, I’m not worried,” he says and you glare at him, “because you’re going to be good for me and be quiet.”

“I don’t know…” you start and stop as soon as his pinky grazes along your entrance through your panties. “Fuck.”

“Doesn’t seem like you actually want me to stop,” he points out.

“I, fuck, you know I don’t but there are people,” you say softly.

“I paid good money for this table. I don’t think we’ll be disturbed,” he tells you.

“I…” you start. When he pulls his finger away, you nearly whine.

“I need to hear you say you want it,” he says.

“What?” you ask, a little louder than you intended.

“Use your words,” he directs and you glare.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, earning a chuckle out of him.

“Not yet,” he retorts.

“Fine, yes. I want your fingers inside me here in this damn restaurant,” you say.

He’s expecting this answer. It’s written all over his face. This time, he doesn’t tease you. Doesn’t waste any time because you may not have much of it. He simply pushes your panties to the side and slides his first finger into you. The angle doesn’t make it easy but his fingers are long and slender, like they were built for something like this. It’s hard to keep from making a sound, so you try to do anything to distract yourself from the way he pumps into you. Or the way he adds a second finger so quickly.

When you pick up your drink to take a sip from the straw, you watch his eyes on you. They seem to darken the second that you wrap your lips around the straw. His fingers pump into you even faster. And his lips are demanding on yours when you set the drink back down. You moan softly into his mouth without really considering if anyone is paying attention or if they can hear you. His tongue tangles with yours frantically while he tries to get you off right in that booth.

This is new for you. You definitely didn’t think you would get so turned on by the fact that anyone could walk back over to see what you were doing. Anyone could hear the noises you’re making. Anyone could figure it out. When he feels that your pussy clenching around his fingers, he pulls away from the kiss. Leans his forehead against yours so that he can whisper filthy things in the space between you. Tells you how good you feel and how he loves watching you when you’re about to come. Moans about how tight you are. How pliant you are for him. Reminds you to be quiet. Tells you he can’t wait to taste you on his fingers. That’s what finally pushes you over the edge.

Your fingers grip the edge of the booth underneath you as you come hard and fast. He lazily guides you through it and then follows through by bringing his fingers to his lips. It’s so hot that you consider asking if you can just leave and go back to the room to be fucked properly. But, then your stomach rumbles and you think better of it. It’s only another few minutes before the first course arrives with a slightly knowing look from the waiter. After that first course, you excuse yourself to the bathroom to clean up, at least a little. You deem your panties ruined and just remove them, tucking them away into your bag. You’ll have to be a little more careful the rest of the night.

This dinner is somehow even better than the first and it has nothing to do with the place being expensive, though the food is definitely amazing. You also don’t think it really has anything to do with the way Wonwoo fingered you under the table. That’s definitely a first for you. Exhibitionism hasn’t been your thing before, but maybe he’s got you learning new things about yourself. It had only taken him a minute to realize that you weren’t wearing underwear anymore. It definitely took him another minute to regain his composure.

The thing that actually makes this dinner better than the first is the man across from you. With his walls down, the entire night just feels that much more. It’s one of the only times you’ve ever felt your own guard come down. It’s not smart and you don’t care. You think you probably look a little punch drunk to anyone that can see your table. Then, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes again and think he probably looks the same. You never really have the chance to enjoy dates, but even if you did, this would still probably top them all. It’s all the little things. The way Wonwoo carefully brushes a strand of hair out of your face. The way he offers you a bite off his own plate when you say it looks good. The way he brings your knuckles up to his lips and presses feather light kisses to them.

“Are you going to insist on ordering dessert here too?” you ask after the main course.

“I was thinking we might have dessert back in our room,” he says and you raise an eyebrow.

“Our room?” you question.

“Don’t test me,” he cautions.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you say and lean into him to press a slow kiss to his cheek. Your hand brushes over his lap as a way to get closer.

“Is this you not testing me?” he asks when your hand brushes across his lap again.

“What? You can make me come on your fingers but I can’t tease you a little?” you ask innocently.

Wonwoo grabs your hand and anchors it on your own thigh. “We’re getting out of here and then you can show your appreciation however you want. We don’t need to give them more of a show.”

It seems like it takes an eternity to pay the bill (which Wonwoo doesn’t let you see) and get a cab back to the hotel. The promise of something else simmers between you the entire time. Wonwoo keeps a hand on you the entire time. A hand on your lower back out of the restaurant, fingers intertwined with yours in the cab, an arm around you walking into the hotel. When you get into the elevator, he pulls you back against his chest as more people join. He masks it as affection and presses a kiss to your cheek, but you feel the desire beneath it.

The moment you cross into the room, you slip out of your shoes and turn around to press a kiss to Wonwoo’s lips. The tension between the two of you is thick and it’s hard to remind yourself to come up for a breath. He overwhelms every one of your senses. There’s nothing but him in every corner of your brain when he kisses you like that.

It’s almost embarrassing when he breaks the kiss and you chase his lips. “How about dessert?”

“I thought that was just your way of saying…” you start and he directs your attention to the table. There’s an assortment of fruit, whipped cream, and melted chocolate there.

You’re a little hesitant when he starts to walk to the table. It just feels incredibly intimate, which is true for a lot of what's happened with Wonwoo. But, this still feels different. It feels like more, once again. Wonwoo realizes that you’re not behind him and turns back to you. He closes the space between you yet again and places a hand on your cheek, impossibly soft.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asks.

“I’ve never done…this,” you say softly into the quiet between you and him.

“Pretty sure we’ve already fucked several times,” Wonwoo says to lighten the mood.

“No, I mean, this…I don’t know. The desserts and the whipped cream and chocolate. It just feels, I don’t know, intimate,” you admit.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he assures you.

It’s absolutely insane that you’re hesitating. It doesn’t have to be some super intimate thing. It’s not like Wonwoo hasn’t already seen every inch of you and gotten to know your body better than anyone should in that period of time. But, this is far beyond the point where you can convince yourself any part of this is for the mission anymore. This isn’t just to keep him close. This is no longer indecision, as much as you want to pretend that it is.

“Is this your go-to move, then? Have a bunch of sweets delivered to the hotel room and seduce people with being all gentle?” you ask.

“I’ve definitely never done this before,” he says and it’s too honest.

Instead of answering him you just kiss him because it’s the only answer you can think of. Somehow, knowing that this is different for him too makes it feel less overwhelming for you. You drag him back towards the table until you’re leaning against it. Your back arches into him as he licks into your mouth. His hands wrap around you to keep you tight against his body. He pulls away again and you’re ready for it this time.

Wonwoo reaches an arm behind you and dips a strawberry in some of the chocolate. He brings it to your lips and watches intently as you get your mouth around it. The first bite sends a little bit of juice and chocolate over your lips. Just as you’re about to wipe it away, Wonwoo pulls the remainder of the strawberry back and kisses it away. It’s like that one action unlocks any hang ups you have. You twist around to scoop up some whipped cream with your finger. Your eyes lock on Wonwoo as you slowly lick it off. With it still in your mouth, you kiss him hard, enjoying the way your tongues dance and the tastes.

The two of you take turns dipping fruit and feeding it to each other. The kisses become more and more desperate in between feeding each other. It’s a little messy, though, so you unbutton Wonwoo’s shirt and slide it off his arms. He undoes your dress to slide it off your body, removing your bra along the way. You rid him of his pants and briefs as well so that you’re not the only one standing there naked.

When you reach back to get more fruit, Wonwoo grabs your hand to stop you. There’s a question in your eyes that he leaves unanswered as he moves things out of the way behind you. Then, he’s sitting you on the edge of the table and reaching for the whipped cream, which also answers your question. He puts some of the topping on your breast and sucks into your skin to lick it off you. Your legs part on their own as you lean back on the table to encourage him to get closer. He swirls his tongue around your nipple before softly nipping at your skin. Without warning, he bites into the flesh of your breast and laves over the spot to soothe you.

Food should not be this sexy. Maybe it’s just that it’s Wonwoo tempting you, but you’ve never been this turned on. His tongue is everywhere across your breasts and your stomach. Covering you in kisses while also licking the whipped cream or chocolate off of you. Your nails scratch down his back each time he nips into your skin. Somehow the sensations are everywhere all at once. You wrap your legs around his waist to anchor him closer to you.

“I need you inside me,” you whine out with Wonwoo kissing along your neck.

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” he asks into your skin.

“Feel for yourself,” you encourage.

Wonwoo pulls away from your neck and looks at you with lust. He presses his fingers to your mouth and you suck them in without even thinking about it. They’re sweet as you swirl your tongue around them. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

As if it’s confirmation, he ruts against you, seemingly hard just from all the making out and the food. You pull his fingers from your mouth and guide them to your already dripping pussy. He’s not the only one that’s gotten insanely turned on. As soon as you guide his fingers through your folds he groans again.

Neither one of you is in the mood to wait and he doesn’t waste any time angling his hand so he can pump his fingers inside you. Just presses two fingers right in and adds a third to try and open you up. It makes you scream out, praising his fingers with how quickly they work you over. He removes his hand entirely too quickly and you’re whining at the loss. Wonwoo runs a hand along his cock, pumping a couple times and catching some of the precum to spread it along his length. It’s not enough, but you don’t really care right now.

“Please, Wonwoo, I need you,” you beg.

“Feeling a little desperate, princess?” he teases, that cocky smirk back on him.

“Just fuck me already,” you whine.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything else, just lines himself up and presses his tip into you. It stretches you out and you’re a little surprised that he goes so slowly. Then, you realize that it feels like more when he’s inching into you like this. His eyes watch you for any signs of discomfort. He leans forward and catches your lips in the neediest kiss of the night when he bottoms out in you. You lean back onto your elbows, bringing him along with you. The kisses get sloppier as he starts to thrust into you.

He pulls away from you to reposition and presses your leg up so that he can get deeper. You let your leg fall over his arm so that you don’t have to hold it up. The moans between the two of you are loud enough to drown out the sound of skin on skin as he fucks into you hard. You can’t help it, though, and you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Look at me,” he directs roughly.

You moan in response but tilt your head back towards him. It feels like a chore and that’s when it occurs to you. Taking hold of his free hand, you move it to your throat. For a second, his eyes go wide and his pace slows. He’s searching your face for a clue before he grabs your throat a little more forcefully.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes, fuck,” you groan out. “I’ll tap you if it’s too much.”

“You’re so fucking hot,” he utters, flexing his fingers on your throat.

Somehow, Wonwoo seems to know the perfect amount of pressure. It’s just tight enough that it makes it a little harder to breathe, but not so much that it’s actually choking you. He seems more comfortable than when he did it the first time. It also makes it easier to keep your eyes on him the way he wants. Everything feels heightened and it’s entirely too soon that you’re rushing to your high. You clench your walls around Wonwoo and he fucks you harder, groaning at the increased tightness.

“Gonna come all over my dick again?” he asks and you moan.

You can’t really say anything and you don’t want to. This is all you need. Your hand winds down your body and you look at Wonwoo with a question in your eyes.

“Go ahead, baby, touch yourself,” he directs you.

Asking for permission to do anything is unlike you, but there’s something about wanting to please this man that drives you to all sorts of new things. You rub your clit in time with his thrusts and it seems like only moments pass before you’re tipping over that edge.

Heavy breaths eventually subside to find Wonwoo slowly, almost lazily, fucking into you. His hands are now both on your hips as he waits for you to come down. You sit up with him still inside you and kiss him, slow and full of all sorts of unspoken things.

“You really are fucking amazing,” you say, voice a little hoarse. “You can move faster.”

“I was thinking we might need to get into the shower,” he says with a smirk, pressing a finger to your skin. You’re about to object when you watch him pull it away and it sticks.

“Maybe I can take care of you in there, then,” you say and kiss him softly.

His eyes seem to light up a little at that. He slides out of you gently and walks slowly into the bathroom. You meant what you said. Shower sex is definitely not your thing because it’s never as sexy as people make it out to be. It can be slippery and there aren’t really any good positions. That doesn’t mean you can’t help him out a little.

Wonwoo has other ideas first, it seems. Once the water is warm enough, both of you get in and he lathers up a loofah to gently wash all the stickiness from your body. It’s gentle in a way you’re not expecting and impossibly thoughtful. You relax against his back with his arms around you while he makes sure all the remnants are gone.

When you’re clean, you turn around to face him and kiss him hard. The water falling on your back creates the perfect sensation with the heat between the two of you. He gathers you against his body, hands sliding down to grip your ass. It’s all you can do not to melt right on the spot. You think that you could probably kiss this man for the rest of your life and never get bored. Or never fully prepare yourself for the way it makes you feel.

You drop to your knees and take his cock in your hand. He leans back against the wall of the shower as he looks down on you. It’s crazy to you how turned on this man gets (or stays) just from kissing or skin contact. No matter what, his body always seems to be ready for you. You run your tongue along his length and swirl your tongue around the tip. You’re impatient and you know he’s been waiting, so you don’t waste any time before you suck him into your mouth. You relax your throat and swallow as much of his cock as you’re able to, alternating between bobbing and hollowing out your cheeks.

“You look so good looking up at me like that,” he groans.

You hum around his dick and Wonwoo grabs the back of your head to anchor you there. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes before he releases you and you can get a breath. Even in this position, you can tell that you actually have control over this man. It’s a great feeling since he’s been in control every other time. His hips buck when you suck him back into you. It’s definitely a powerful feeling. The groans also tell you what you already know, you’re good at this. He’s putty in your hands.

With a few more bobs, he’s coming down your throat and then slumping back against the shower wall. It doesn’t stop him from helping you up off your knees. You pepper light kisses along his collarbones before he surprises you and pulls you into another kiss. It’s never been your experience that a man wants to kiss you like that, but he doesn’t shy away.

“We better get out of this shower before we run through all the hot water,” he says between kisses.

“You’re right,” you say with a sigh.

The two of you step out of the shower and Wonwoo is quick to wrap you up in a towel. It takes everything in you to tell your heart to calm down. You know Wonwoo feels all the same things you do. Even if he's not free with vocalizing his emotions, his actions tell you exactly what he’s thinking. If you know where to look, that is. You’re realizing that you definitely know where to work.

Twenty minutes later, your skin care routine is done and you’re curled up in bed in one of Wonwoo’s oversized t-shirts. You know your alarm is going to be too early tomorrow since you need to check in with Seungcheol, but all you want to do tonight is curl up and talk more with this incredibly interesting man.

Something seems to shift now that you’re holed up in Wonwoo’s hotel room with him for the next however many days. Before, he seemed hesitant to talk about the real reason you two crossed paths. You’re not sure what causes the change or why he trusts that you’re not going to just turn around and burn him. Maybe it’s just that you haven’t done it yet.

“What made you want to start stealing art?” you ask while the two of you are sitting outside on the balcony. This room really is too nice. It almost makes it hard to leave and explore.

“I don’t know if it was that I wanted to steal art,” he chuckles.

“Okay, how did you start, then?” you ask with an affectionate eye roll.

“It’s going to sound stupid,” he says with an uncharacteristic shyness. “I guess, I don’t know, I grew up in this house where nobody ever seemed to care what I was doing. I stole the first piece from my parents and sold it off to someone I’d met at this underground club. I figured my parents would catch me and then at least I’d have their attention for a minute.”

“I’m guessing they didn’t catch you,” you comment.

“They didn’t even notice it was gone,” he says with a chuckle. “How old were you?” you ask.

“16,” he answers immediately.

“So you’ve been doing this…?” you start, doing the math in your head.

“12 years, yeah,” he says. “It took awhile to get to the point I’m at now. I think for a while I was figuring that my parents would somehow catch on and give a shit about my life. By the time I was 19, I was really good at it and I’d made a lot of contacts. I still moved in all those circles so I never looked out of place at a gallery or a museum. Nobody looked twice at me.”

“Did it ever get lonely?” you ask and Wonwoo regards you for a moment. “I just mean that you were still part of all these circles. You still went to all these parties and it seems like none of them knew you at all. You were hiding in plain sight because nobody knew you well enough to see it.”

“I had the networks of people that I sold to or accepted jobs from,” he says.

“But everything I’ve ever seen says that you rarely met with those people in person. It was always online contact and leaving pieces somewhere after the money had been wired,” you share.

“I guess your agency got a few things right,” he mumbles.

“It sounds loney,” you say sympathetically.

“I wish you were a little less observant,” he says like he’s trying for a joking tone.

It’s immediately obvious that he’s a little tired and definitely lonely. You can’t really imagine that type of life. Sure, you’ve been working on your own or with a single partner for your entire adult life. But, you’ve still been part of an organization. There are people that know you at your core. There are people that you can turn to when everything in life feels like it sucks. No matter how bad things get, you know there are people out there who can support you.

Almost involuntarily, a series of images pop into your head. Wonwoo in a suit at a charity gala, the type of person that everyone wants to approach. You can imagine people whispering behind their hands about going to speak to him or ask him to dance. Maybe trying to approach him at the bar. Then you see him just as clearly at home afterwards, alone and sitting on his couch with a drink in hand. You see him perusing a museum to get the lay of the land so that he can steal it later. Once again, alone. You see how he probably sits at home communicating with all his potential buyers.

Wonwoo reads the look on your face and assures you that it’s probably not as bad as you’re imagining things. Yes, he admits that he’s lonely sometimes and that he’s alone more than he’s with other people. It’s hard for him to let anyone in. He doesn’t want to have to account for his time or trust that they won’t blow his cover. There’s nobody in his life that he can be totally himself with, at least not until meeting you. But, he insists that it hasn’t been so bad. Mostly, he prefers to be on his own anyway. He likes the quiet and the solitude. Likes to be able to enjoy his down time however he likes. He gets enough socialization when he goes to events as he’s expected to.

Which brings up a question. After over a decade of doing everything solo, why has he trusted you with all of this now? His answer comes more immediately than you would expect, yet it makes sense. You have something to lose here, too. Possibly even more than he does. After all, there have been a lot of teams that have been close to unraveling his mysterious identity. You, on the other hand, are supposed to be tracking him down. Not spending time locked away in his hotel room with him. That brings you up a little short because he’s right and you’re not planning on going anywhere.

He admits that you intrigue him. All his life, Wonwoo has appreciated a good puzzle or a good challenge. You present both to him, though it hasn’t been as much of a challenge to get you to give him a chance as he expected. It is a challenge to try and unravel you. To try and figure out what made you say yes to the date and what makes you stay now. You also meet him on a level that nobody ever has before. You nearly blush at the way he describes your intelligence and how he feels more turned on by your brain than anyone before. Normally something like that would make you cringe. But, somehow Wonwoo makes it sound both sexy and endearing. You’re just as challenged by him, too, so maybe you get it.

It also brings up some very conflicting feelings in you because it’s a reminder that you have a life entirely separate from him. You have a life that doesn’t allow you to account for this time. At some point, you have to make a final choice. It’s way too late to just turn Wonwoo in without any sort of repercussion. It’s too late to act like this is all just in the name of bringing down one of the most difficult targets you’ve had to track. In the name of getting to know Wonwoo better, you’ve also shared a lot about yourself. A lot that someone like Seungcheol would be able to clock immediately as being true. Every moment you stay with Wonwoo makes your future more complicated. Things are already too hazy.

“Okay enough heavy stuff,” you declare and stand. “Let’s go do something.”

“Such as?” he prompts.

“We’re in a beautiful city, let’s go see some of it,” you suggest.

Wonwoo wants to take a minute to actually plan something, but you veto that. He’s definitely not the spontaneous type, which you figured out before you were even sure who he was. It makes more sense now, knowing who he is. So it feels like more of a win that he relents and agrees to just go with the flow. It’s not as if you’ll be flying totally blind anyway. You did a lot of research before coming down for the mission and you know a lot of the places to see, both tourist places and some that are off the beaten path.

Once you’re outside of the hotel room, things feel different in a way you can’t quite put your finger on. Everything in the hotel room feels real in the sense of getting to know each other. The conversations can be heavy and there’s that constant need to rip each other’s clothes off. Being outside exploring a foreign city feels real in an entirely different way. None of the conversations are heavy since you’re just appreciating the sights. But, you and Wonwoo trade off in taking pictures of each other (or even snap some together) and it feels like a glimpse at another life. It isn’t a fantasy world because it does feel real, but it doesn’t feel like an actual reality either. It almost feels like a mission you’re on where you and him would pretend to be a couple. You have to remind yourself this is actually a mission and you’re running around with your target because Wonwoo isn’t your partner.

When you’re in Plaza de Mayo, you take a step back to allow Wonwoo to purchase something to eat. It’s too cute to watch him stumble through his Spanish, constantly looking over at you as if asking for help. All you can do is smile as he mixes up hombre and hambre. The older woman putting the food together only smiles softly. There’s something incredibly cute about watching this stoic man get flushed over ordering in another language.

The next few days follow mostly the same pattern. You wake up earlier than Wonwoo so that you can pretend to work on the mission and actually check in with Seungcheol. Wonwoo pretends that he’s still asleep sometimes. Other times, he gets up and works on his own things. It’s cute that he’ll do anything to make it seem like you have privacy. Breakfast in the room always comes next because it’s an easy way to get ready for the day.

The days themselves are all a little bit different. You see the Piramide de Mayo, the Floralis Generica, the monuments to Juana Azurduy and General Jose de San Martin, Teatro Colon, the planetarium and several other interesting sights. The planetarium is a personal favorite of yours because it’s just kind of weird in an affectionate way. It’s hard to truly pick a favorite though because each new stop teaches you more about the local culture. It’s the kind of place that just makes you want to fall in love with it. There’s so much beauty and so much to appreciate. Each new stop also seems to involve learning something new about Wonwoo and somehow him trying his hand at Spanish again, only to fail. You’re wondering if he does it just to entertain you.

While you’re seeing all the tourist spots, you take time to see the things the locals recommend as well. Sometimes that’s hole-in-the-wall food places or stands that someone mentions. Other times it’s a park that’s too out of the way for tourists. Even other times still, it’s a hidden access point to the beach. Thankfully, it’s still cool out and getting Wonwoo to agree to the beach isn’t difficult. You idly wonder what it would be like to try and get him to visit the beach in January when it’s the dead of summer.

You want to try as many local dishes as you can while you’re there, too. Given his way, Wonwoo would probably eat in the hotel room just as much as out of it, but you don’t know when you’re going to get this chance again. So, even though he’s worn out from spending so much time around people, he lets you drag him out again every night. He even seems to enjoy himself.

At the start of whatever this is, it was always you asking Wonwoo all the questions and trying to volunteer as little about yourself as possible. You’re still an agent and you’re still supposed to be after him. The least you can do, while you’re totally ignoring your mission, is try to better understand Wonwoo and his motivations. Even if you don’t end up turning him in, it's an invaluable experience to get to look into the mind of a criminal. When will you get another chance like this? When will you be this close to someone to ask personal questions? No part of you even considers that he’s lying to you. You’re positive that he answers everything truthfully.

Somewhere along the line, it shifts. Maybe because you know everything you want to know about the man across from you. Or maybe because you genuinely feel comfortable about him. Either way, he’s the one that’s asking you questions now. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t want to know anything about your work. He doesn’t seem to care about any of that. There’s a nagging thought that thinks he might just be trying to make you comfortable. You try to quickly brush it away, though, and just answer any of the personal questions he asks. Wonwoo wants to know the simple things like where you grew up, what your family was like, and what you wanted to do when you were younger. The things that allow him to really know you. It’s terrifying.

By the time you get back to the hotel that night, you’re exhausted. It feels like it’s been a never ending span of days in the best way. You collapse on the bed without changing. All you manage to do is take off your shoes. Wonwoo leans over you and kisses you, softly at first. But, like every other kiss with him, it leaves you gasping for air after a minute.

It’s amazing how he seems to take your breath away and even more amazing how he always seems like he’s ready to tear your clothes off. You’ve never had someone like him in your life. But, that also brings you back to reality. Wonwoo asked you to give him a few days staying in his hotel room. It’s definitely been longer than that without either of you seeming to notice. There’s a level of comfort that neither of you talk about given that this all has an expiration date. And that expiration date is rapidly approaching.

Staying with Wonwoo turns out to be longer than either of you planned and neither of you has a complaint about it. You’ve been checking in with Seungcheol every morning and Wonwoo pretends not to listen. It’s been like living in a little bubble where reality isn’t a concern.

That’s just the thing, though, isn’t it? This isn’t real life, not for you. This isn’t something that lasts long term or that you can even sustain. The reality is still there. Wonwoo is one of the most infamous art thieves to ever live and you work for a secret agency tasked with bringing criminals like him to justice. You’re not exactly sure what the last however many days have been. All you know is this is just a break from reality. A brief glimpse into an alternate life that can never be. It’s been amazing and something you won’t ever forget. You’re hoping that you’re both on the same page about that, at least.

“I should probably go back to my hotel today,” you say.

Wonwoo looks up from across the room where he’s reading while you pretend to work on your case. It helps to at least log in to the system. “To get more stuff?”

“I can’t stay here forever,” you point out.

“No, I expect at some point we’ll leave and head to the next place,” he agrees with a shrug.

“We?” you ask, eyebrows flying up.

“Yes, we,” he says like suddenly you’re slow on the uptake. “I’ve got a few places in mind that I’d love to take you, but it’s really up to you.”

“Wonwoo,” you start and your heart sinks.

You are definitely not on the same page. Probably not even in the same book, if you’re honest. Everything over the past days with him has been amazing. The perfect little escape from your reality. But, that’s all it’s been: an escape. Or maybe that’s all you’ve let yourself think it was. Anything else seems like entirely too much. His face drops as he watches you.

“You’re not coming with me,” he realizes.

“I didn’t even know you would want me to!” you state, too loud for the space.

“How could you not? I’ve been telling you all the places that I wanted you to see,” he says and that hits you harder than a physical blow. He’s been giving you all the signs that this isn’t just a bubble.

“I didn’t think you were serious,” you point out.

“Clearly,” he says, voice thick with disappointment.

“Wonwoo, come on. It’s not like I can just, what? Run away?” you say.

“Oh, no, there’s a whole life waiting for you back at your precious agency,” he says with derision.

“It’s all I’ve ever known,” you plead.

“And I’ve shown you that there’s more to life than whatever this is for you,” he counters.

“I can’t just leave them,” you say with a shake of your head.

That seems to make Wonwoo angrier than you expect. “No, of course not. How silly of me. You have to get back to your handler that so clearly loves you.”

“Seungcheol does not love me. We’re friends, sure, but that’s it,” you disagree.

“Let’s pretend that’s true and it’s normal for a handler to speak to you the way he does. Or that it’s normal for him to worry so much about your safety. Who are you going back to apart from him? Who’s waiting for you?” Wonwoo asks.

The questions wash over you like acid rain. Painful and harsh and unrelenting. The worst part is that he’s right. You have wondered if there are some feelings there from Seungcheol. You also don’t have anyone waiting for you. It’s really a half-life, if you’re being honest. Less than a half-life, probably. The past few days with Wonwoo are the most alive you’ve felt since you were a child, before joining the agency.

“I can’t just…this is my job, Wonwoo. And you’re an art thief. A very famous one and…” you start.

“Have I stolen anything here?” he asks and that brings you up short.

“Well, no, of course not. You’ve been with me,” you say simply.

“And I will leave this city without stealing. I will switch careers entirely if it’s that important, though it doesn’t seem like it is since you haven’t turned me in,” he says and it’s almost like he’s talking to himself. “I’ve been all over the globe trying to feel something. Trying for anything. I started stealing because I could. I wanted to get the attention my parents never gave me. I kept going because I was looking for a challenge, which it is, at least sometimes. I was looking for someone, I think. Then, I find you and you’re everything I didn’t know to ask for. But, you’re telling me some job where you can’t even have a life is more important than this? That my job, which I’m completely willing to give up, is too much of a barrier?”

“I have a life,” you scoff.

“Really?” Wonwoo challenges and folds his arms. “When was the last time you went on a real date? Not with a target, but a real date just with someone you wanted to know? When’s the last time you let yourself just breathe and explore a city? When’s the last time you did something just because you wanted to?”

“Plenty of people are married to their jobs,” you begin.

“I thought you were brave, you know,” Wonwoo muses. “I thought you were someone who would realize how rare this is. It’s not like everyone is lucky enough to meet a person that completes them like this. I guess I was wrong. I guess all I was really good for was fucking you and that’s all it was.”

“Of course that’s not all it was,” you disagree. There are tears threatening to spill over. This isn’t at all how you imagined it going. You weren’t prepared for him to try to fight for you. “The last few days with you have been everything I never thought I’d experience. But, it hasn’t been real, Wonwoo. It can’t be real. Life doesn’t work that way.”

“Why can’t it?” he fires at you.

“Because I don’t deserve it!” you scream, tears finally streaming down your face. “Because you don’t know my scars. You don’t know the things I’ve done. You don’t know the mistakes I’ve made. You don’t know that I have demons that are constantly chasing me.”

“I’m a fucking criminal,” he points out. “Who am I to judge?”

“Exactly,” you agree but rush to finish your thought before Wonwoo can interject. “You don’t…question the decisions you’ve made. You stand on everything you’ve done. But, you also do so much good with charities and helping students and just giving back. Plus, I’ve looked at your crimes. You only ever stole from the rich to sell to other rich people.”

“Yet you still were sent to chase me,” he points out.

“Yeah, who do you think pays our salaries?” you ask flatly. “My point is that…I don’t know. I’m standing here across from you and I feel like I’m the infinitely worse person in this situation.”

“It really can’t be that bad,” he reasons.

“I’ve taken lives, Wonwoo. More than I can count. And without even questioning if our reasoning was solid for taking them out. I’ve used my body in ways that I may never recover from, thinking it was my choice at the time. I’ve done what I was told and I’ve been good at it. Too good, maybe,” you say. You’re talking to yourself more than him at this point. “I’m the one they send when they don’t want a record. I’m the one they send when nobody else can do it. I’ve spent the last 10 years of my life training and doing what I was told. It’s given me scars that you can’t see and won’t ever heal. All I know is this. They’re not just going to let me go. And even if they did, you don’t deserve all the baggage that I come with. You’re not a bad guy.”

“And you think you are? A bad guy?” he asks.

“I know I am,” you say.

“That’s all you are if that’s all you see, but I see so much more,” he argues.

“I still can’t just ask them to walk away,” you press.

“I wasn’t suggesting that you ask,” he says. “You deserve a chance to start fresh. To see what you can be without the weight of the world hanging over your head.”

“I don’t deserve anything more than what I have now,” you disagree.

“What about love? Do you deserve that?” he asks, changing directions.

“I don’t know,” you admit.

“And me? Do I deserve love?” he asks.

“Yes, without question,” you answer immediately.

“So give me the chance to experience love,” he begs. “I never thought I’d love anyone and I’ve never taken this kind of chance on anyone. But, I’m asking you for a chance. Just one more.”

There’s so much tension in the air between you. So many things still left unsaid and so much emotion. The air between you and him seems to crackle. A storm brews behind his eyes as he waits for you to answer him. It seems insane to think that he could feel that for you after such a short time. But, really, what do you know? You have unquestionably never been in love before, not really. There’s never been the time or space for it in your line of work. Relationships never seem to get deeper because you’re always keeping secrets. Can’t ever tell them what you really do for work. And then there’s Wonwoo. He knows so much about you already and even though it’s barely scratched the surface, it’s still more honest than you’ve ever been. He doesn’t want to run away and that scares you more than any mission you’ve ever had.

It’s just…it’s too much to decide now. You spend your whole life having to make split second decisions, yet can’t about this. Don’t have the data that you have on missions. Don’t know the pros and cons. It’s uncharted territory. It’s scary in a way you’ve never experienced. You’ve stared down the barrel of too many guns and this still feels infinitely more terrifying. Maybe he can love you after such a short amount of time because he seems to realize what you’re going to say before you say it.

“Don’t,” he says softly when you open your mouth. “I’m going to leave the day after tomorrow. I’m going to set the flight to leave at 1 in the afternoon. That gives you time to change your mind.”

“And if I don’t reach you before then?” you ask softly.

“Don’t ever expect to find me again,” he says with a finality that surprises you. When you meet his gaze, it’s harder than you’re expecting. “I really care about you and I’d love you to come with me. But I know how stubborn you are. It’s part of why I love you so much. So I’m leaving my heart open until the day after tomorrow. Then it’s over.”

“You’re an amazing person, Wonwoo,” you say and press a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve challenged a lot of my ideas about right and wrong. I��ll never forget that.”

“I’m not accepting this as goodbye. I’ll still hope to see you before I leave,” he says and presses the gentlest kiss to your forehead.

Your throat is too tight to say anything in response to that. All you can do is gather up your things and head out of the hotel room. Everything in your body feels tired from the unexpected heaviness of the conversation. It hurts to see Wonwoo looking so hurt. As crazy as it sounds, you do mean that he deserves the absolute best. You also meant it that made you rethink a lot of your preconceived notions. You actually questioned things for the first time in your adult life. Despite all of that, you still walk right out of the hotel room.

You spend nearly every minute after walking out of Wonwoo’s hotel room considering his offer. Go as far as scheduling your flight out of Buenos Aires for the same time as his. Genuinely, you’re not sure what you want to do. At least Seungcheol understood failing the mission. Somehow, he still sees it as a win that nothing was stolen from anywhere in the city while you were there. He assumes that your presence somehow spooked the notorious art thief. Thankfully he doesn’t realize just how right he is.

The biggest surprise is that Chan, the slightly overeager agent from the flight down, will be meeting you when you get on the plane. He’s only wrapping up a second mission that popped up in the area. The Agency is sending him along so that you can debrief about your actual mission and start looping him in going forward. Apparently, as great as you are and as (almost) perfect as your record is, the agency still wants to have someone for you to work with when you need them. Since that can’t be Seungcheol, he’s recommending a promising younger agent. This apparently also includes you being the one to tell him all of this yourself.

The airport is busy when you get there, an unsurprising side effect of planning flights during the afternoon. There’s also the fact that private planes have to leave from the international airport, which is always somewhat packed. Getting through customs and security is surprisingly smooth and soon you’re going to have to face your literal crossroads.

In one direction is the familiar. Nothing about working for The Agency is easy. There’s a sense of routine to it, though. A sense of generally knowing what your days or weeks or even months will look like. You know how to make coffee in the shitty break room when you’re actually on site (a rarity). You know how to play nice with the other agents. You know how all the tech works. And you’re good at the missions themselves. That’s just to say you don’t have to learn anything new. You’re lucky enough to have a semi-boss that you get along with. There’s a sense of routine to everything from mission briefings to flights to the missions themselves. There’s comfort in knowing you don’t really have to make the decisions. Sure, you have to figure out which course to take on the ground with a mission. But, that usually only means picking option A or B. All of the possible courses of action come in the briefing. You just have to evaluate the factors and figure out which pre-determined option fits best. It’s easy. As fucked up as it might be to admit, you like doing something that you know you’re good at. It’s nice to get praised for constantly succeeding. It’s the easy decision.

And in the other direction…well, it’s the unknown. Being with Wonwoo has been nothing short of the best feeling of your life. The most alive you’ve ever felt. It’s kind of crazy but part of you thinks you may love him. Can see how the whole future plays out, even if it’s not crystal clear. The two of you could start over somewhere new where he doesn’t have to steal art and you don’t have to chase criminals with questionable methods. Both of you have the funds (even if he’s better set up) to start over. Both of you clearly have the skills to disappear into the wind, too. It’s not like your legal name exists anywhere anymore. Very few people even know it, not that you would go back to it.

It’s easy to get lost in the daydream. As much as you love the sun of Buenos Aires, you can’t imagine Wonwoo in a place like that during the actual summer. Everything about him makes you think of somewhere cooler, somewhere that you’re not constantly sweating. That would let you take breaks to sunnier weather. Places where you could soak up the sun while he took refuge under an umbrella, watching you with all the affection in the world. Actually, you can picture visiting a lot of places with him. He would be the perfect travel partner to see all the beautiful corners of the world that you’ve never been able to appreciate. It’s like going somewhere for a business trip. You’re there working, not to appreciate everything around you.

There’s something kind of poetic about being at an airport as an actual crossroads in your life. It’s like you can get on a plane going anywhere. Quite literally, since you’re not sure where Wonwoo’s plane is going. Not that it really matters. If that’s the path you pick, then it’s for him rather than the destination.

The only question left is whether you’re ready to leave your entire life behind. Are you ready to say goodbye to the agency that saved you? Are you ready to cut yourself off from the few people who actually know you and accept you as you are? Can you live without having any closure on that part of your life? Would you feel guilty that Seungcheol would be left with a million questions about what happened to you? Or would it hurt you to know that he would blame himself for your disappearance somehow? Then again, maybe he would know, on some level, that you just finally reached the point of needing to walk away. That’s something you and him have talked about before, in the early hours of the morning after too much to drink. What would you do if you could walk away from this life? What would life after The Agency look like?

With a deep breath, you pick your path and you don’t look back. That’s the only way you know you’ll have the strength in your decision.

i hope you all enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it! please reblog or comment and let me know 💕

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xxkissesforchanniexx · 3 months

Text

Oh, How I Hate Him

Pairing: bad boy!Minho x student council prez!fem!reader (college au) Genre: angst, fluff Word count: 8k >.> Warnings: college idiots, mention of drinking, drugs, smoking O_O DONT DO ANY OF THAT, cringe romance, enemies to lovers, dick exboyfriend. protective Minho >.> <.< thats it i think????

a/n: did I intend for this to be smut? Yes. is it? no. do i mind tho? absolutely not someone help me come up with a better title...

You inhaled deeply and smiled contentedly as you entered the student council office.

"Good morning Ms. President." Your friend and vice president, Jia, said.

You gave her a side eye. "I said don't call me that."

"I'm sorry." She giggled, "Yuna, schedule today?"

"We have to collect signatures for lowering student parking costs and start the campaign for the cafeteria to be expanded and renovated this summer, you also have to meet with the principal to discuss how the high schoolers are going to tour the campus, " Yuna, the student council secretary and planner named off things from the list.

You nodded, "Not too much." You checked your watch, "I have a class at 8:30 and I haven't gotten my coffee yet, any of you want to come with me?"

Jia and Yuna looked at you, with are you for real right now man? faces before getting up and grabbing their bags to go with you.

You went to the cafeteria and as you were getting your iced americano, a student came up to you.

"Y/n, can you sign here to help keep our debate program alive? The district is trying to cut off our funding to have our formal debate team dissolved." The boy handed you a clip board and a pen.

You signed your name before picking up your coffee, "I'm running a little late, Yuna, can you take the papers on my desk to the principal's office?"

"Sure." Yuna picked up her own coffee and ran off.

You briskly made your way across campus and checked your watch, 8:25 AM, right on time. You entered the history classroom and smiled, "Good morning." You greeted your professor before going to sit, not too close to the front, not too far back, and not perfectly situated in the middle.

As the classroom filled, your friend, Seungmin, leader of the science olympiad team sat beside you.

"You're a bit late don't you think?" You teased, taking out your notes.

"Not everyone i always going to be as punctual as you, Madam President."

You rolled your eyes.

The chatter in the classroom died as the teacher stepped to the front of the class, "Good morning class, as you know this is the only history class you have to take to meet the graduation requirements. So, if you intend to slack in my class just know your future depends on your performance in this cl-" She was cut off.

The door opened and you looked away from the teacher seeing a man with redish brown hair and a leather jacket at the door, he had pretty eyes and small but plump lips. His eyes raked over the class for a moment before he looked at the teacher, "Sorry, I'm late."

"You are?" She raised a brow.

"Minho. Lee Minho." He said, walking into the class and going up the steps to the back of the classroom, he passed you and your eyes met. He smirked slightly and you made a face, not bothering to watch where he sat.

"I hope you won't be late again, Mr. Lee." The teacher said.

"No promises." He said.

She pursed her lips before continuing her speech about the importance of the class, where to find the resources, the books you'd need, the minimum grade you'd need to pass the final and so on. A snicker made Seungmin look over his shoulder.

Minho was sitting beside a guy with chubby cheeks and big eyes. Han Jisung, who, raised a brow at you and Seungmin as if to ask what.

The teacher kept talking and Minho and Jisung's distractions persisted before finally the teacher, who you now knew as Mrs. Jung snapped. "Gentlemen, is there something that's important enough to interrupt my lesson?"

Minho looked a bit surprised and Jisung blinked a few times.

"No.. ma'am." Minho said tentatively.

"Mr. KIm," Mrs Jung said.

Seungmin looked up a bit confused. "Ma'am?"

"Swap seats with Mr. Lee."

Your mouth fell open, SAY SOMETHING! SAY NO! ASK HER POLITELY TO RETHINK HER DECISION. "Ma'am I really think-" You started.

"As the student body president and one of the three candidates for valedictorian of your graduating class, Y/n, I think you'd be a good influence on Mr. Lee." She reasoned.

Seungmin put his notes in his bag and sighed deeply. "It's fine Y/n, we'll talk later anyway." He went up the steps and waited on Minho to collect his things before sitting next to Jisung.

You looked at Minho as he sat beside you. This was going to be a rough semester.

You went to the student council office after class to handle what Yuna had told you about in the morning and as you set your bag down you bristled, staring at the stack of papers on your desk. The same stack of papers you told Yuna to take to the principal that morning. You sighed and grabbed the papers and left the office, walking briskly down the hall and to the administration office, greeting the schools secretary before setting down the papers in the principal's office.

You went to return to the student council office, pulling out your phone to check over things when you passed the entrance to the arts department. You froze as you saw something in the corner of your eye, looking up to see Hyunjin and a guy in a hoodie.

You raised your hand and opened your mouth to wave but stopped yourself. Who was that guy anyway... You shrugged and went back to the office to handle your things.

You started counting the signatures the other members of the council left on the table, you let out a soft sigh of frustration, for people who complained about it being too much to park on campus, they really, REALLY, did not seem to mind that much.

You went back to your apartment and greeted your roommate, Doyeon, who, was sitting on the couch eating your snacks.

"HEY! Those are mine!" You huffed.

"Are they??!" She looked genuinely shocked.

You rolled your eyes and went to go change before sitting beside her and munching on the snack too.

"Oh, Yeongs-" she started.

"Save it." You said, looking at your phone.

"But he-"

"DODO!" You looked at her. "No. You told me not to be persuaded by him, you shouldn't be either."

"But he seemed genuinely sorry." She muttered.

"He always seems someway." You rolled your eyes and looked back at your phone. You got a notification from instagram suddenly.

You looked at Doyeon. "Does EVERYONE on campus have my instagram?"

She looked away from the TV, "Why are you asking so suddenly?"

"No reason." You muttered, looking back at your phone before following Minho back. He and his stupid self.

The following day Minho was late, much to your delight, you took notes and listened to the teacher for about the Egyptians and the Romans. Twenty minutes late, Minho strolled into class and sat beside you, not bothering to take out his books or anything.

"Good morning Madam President." He whispered.

"You could at least try to get here on time." You said, quickly scrawling down something Mrs. Jung had said.

"You could at least try to relax sometimes." He shot back rolling his eyes.

"If you're going to be late," You slid the first part of the notes to his side of the desk, "Play catch up."

Minho pursed his lips before sighing and taking the notes, he wrote them down faster than you expected, sliding them back to you after about five minutes and peeking at the sheet you were working on. You didn't say anything until as you were writing, he kicked you under the desk. You looked at him.

He was following along with the teacher as if he hadn't done anything. You rolled your eyes and went back to working. Minho's antics persisted until the and of class and as you were packing up your stuff you turned in a bit of frustration back to your desk to see more papers.

Minho was talking to the girl across the isle, she giggled at something he said and you grabbed the papers and pulled out a folder, arranged it neatly then put it carefully into your bag.

You were about to go when you realized your water bottle wasn't in your bag. You looked around your area for a moment before you clenched your fists at the sight of your bottle in MInho's lap.

You grabbed it and were about to leave when he held up your phone.

"LEE MINHO!" You fumed, grabbing your phone and storming out.

"You seem mad-" Jia said, steering clear of your volcanic rage as you threw your things onto the table.

Some of the members of the council squeaked and took off running.

"I hate Lee Minho." You practically growled as you sat in your chair.

A few days later you had worn a pair of heels for a meeting and they had been hurting your feet. You grimaced slightly while getting your coffee and Hyunjin sighed.

"You don't have to wear those shoes y'know." He sighed.

"I have to build habit." You huffed.

Yet when you got to class you really wished you didn't have to "build habit". But you wouldn't admit Hyunjin was right either. So you suffered through the entirety of class and somehow made it to the student council office. The moment you sat down and sulked over your feet you got a text.

You looked at your phone and rolled your eyes at the sight of Minho's contact. You ignored the "You look like you stepped on a lego" text and tried to turn to your work when another text came to your phone.

"Don't ignore my texts." followed by a "Call down your guard dog."

You stared in confusion for a moment before opening your phone and responding finally.

You opened the door to see Seungmin glaring at Minho.

"Y/n tell this hooliga-" He started.

"What do you wa-" You interrupted Seungmin only to be cut off by a pair of slippers being thrusted into your face.

"Wear comfier shoes. You look like you've been in pain all day. Idiot." Minho turned on his heel and walked away.

You blinked in shock for a moment. "Did he just.."

"You give her the slippers?" Hyunjin asked as Minho blitzed into the dance studio.

"Yeah..." He relaxed as he realized he was safe. He must've looked like an idiot. But when you were leaving the campus that evening Minho saw you and Seungmin walking to thee latter's car. A small smile came to his face as he saw you were wearing the slippers.

The next few months were packed for you, your teachers piled work on you like there was no tomorrow, and you wrote essay after essay. Business with the student council wasn't much better as Jia got sick with something and the campus tour date was coming closer and closer.

And Minho? Oh how you hated him. You hated the way he walked and talked and how he seemed to understand things without reading too much. You hated how he smirked at you in the hall way and how he got under your skin.

"I'm going to assign you your first project of the semester," Mrs Jung said from the front of the class.

You sucked in a breath and looked at your already stuffed bag, full of books and papers for your other classes.

"You will work in pairs." She said, "The rubric and criteria needed are online, if you have any issues feel free to ask me. I will assign partners now."

You exhaled shakily, Please don't be Minho. Please don't be Minho Please don't be Minho-

"Kim Seungmin and Baek Soojin," She said, "Han Jisung and Park Junho,"

Please don't be Minho!

"Soo Dokyung and Jin Sungwoon."

GOD IM BEGGING PL-

"L/n Y/n and Lee Minho."

You wanted to die on the spot.

"Woulda look at that prez, we're a team." Minho whispered, smirking at you.

You bit your lip. This wasn't so bad, he seemed pretty good at turning in his stuff on time and was mostly accurate. You had everything under control. You took a deep breath and looked at him. "If this is going to work we need to distribute the work fairly. So, I'll research the fall of the roman empire and you research the rise, we'll have a document to collect references and-" You head throbbed for a moment and you grabbed your forehead.

"Are you okay?" Minho tilted his head, brows furrowing.

You nodded, "I'm fine."

Only you weren't because after class you went to the student council office and sat at your desk.

"Y/N are you okay?" Yuna asked as you held your head, sucking a deep breath before continuing with your work.

"Yeah I'm good." You said taking out your computer and getting ready to work.

"You look a little pale.." She muttered.

You still got to work on your research though, Yuna left after a while, telling you to take care of yourself and relax. Earlier than usual you finally decided to head out, calling a cab and-

"What's the president doing here so late?"

You looked at Minho, who was carrying a duffel bag and his keys. "Work," You said, looking at the road waiting for your cab.

He stared at you for a moment. "Are you okay?"

You turned to him, "Why are you so concerned if I'm alright today? I'm fine, thanks." You said a bit harshly.

He made a face, "You just look really burnt out. It's late, let me give you a ride."

"I already have a ride on the way, Minho," You shut him down fast and he pursed his lips.

"Whatever you say, Madam President." He walked away to the parking lot and you couldn't help but feel a pang in your chest, like you'd gone too far.

Your cab came and you made it back to your apartment, Doyeon was the third person to point out your sickly appearance but the only one who actually made it to feeling your head and gasping at how hot you were.

"What the hell Y/N?! Are you trying to kill yourself?!! Come on!" She dragged you to your bed and made you put your stuff down and change before getting you into bed. "You aren't going anywhere ma'am." She said, "You sit here and get better, Nurse Doyeon will take care of you."

"I'd rather die." You teased.

She pouted, "Meanie."

You rolled your eyes and smiled at your friend, "Thank you Dodo."

"Of course y/nnie."

If you felt like shit at school, that was only the beginning, you whined in pain at your sore throat and Doyeon had to convince you to eat even though it hurt to swallow. After you finally finished the noodles and all the soup Doyeon made you, she made you take medicine for your throat and to reduce your fever before letting you sleep finally.

Only as you were drifting of you thought about history and mentally berated yourself for not studying ahead for the lessons. You were about to grab your laptop when your phone buzzed. A message from Minho.

Minho stared at his phone for a moment, he thought about how you seemed a but more irritable and pale and how your usual upright, perfect posture was slackened. So he did do his research that night, and looked at his cat Dori, "She's so uptight. It's not fair.."

The cat mewed softly.

"You're right, I'll give her something tomorrow." Minho muttered, "Maybe she's overworking herself. You think she likes pasta? Or maybe I should make her strawberry cake..."

In the morning, Minho was getting ready for class when his phone rang, he pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed it, answering the call.

"Hyunjin?" He said, putting the phone on speaker.

"You coming today? Changbin might come too." Hyunjin said on the other end.

"Y'know I have a project to work on." Minho said fixing his hair in the mirror.

"Man, just a few hours."

"Yeah, nah." Minho said.

"Alright, your loss." He went quiet for a moment, "Did you see Y/n yesterday?"

Minho thought about how you looked so tired the day before. "Yeah."

"I'm a little worried y'know." Hyunjin sighed. "She never says anything when she doesn't feel well. But oh well, we'll see later."

Minho thought about what Hyunjin had said the entire way to class and for once, he was on time, sitting in his seat waiting for you. The classroom filled, the teacher entered, and you... never came.

He fidgeted slightly. Where were you? For the first time since he walked into that history class—much to Mrs. Jung and Seungmin's shock—Minho took notes. He jotted down things that were important and little details on the side, he underlined and highlighted did his best to seperate definitions and dates from key material as he'd seen you do.

After class he went to the student council office. This was abnormal. Where were you? You would never miss class even if you didnt have a ride and had to walk the entire way... in flip flops (as if you ever would) YOU WOULD BE AT SCHO-

"If you're looking for the president she's not here today." The secretary said.

"Why? Is she ok-" Minho started only to stop himself, "No problem."

He went to the arts department to see Hyunjin.

"Thought you weren't coming today?" The long haired man said, taking a hair band between his teeth so he could gather his hair.

"Came to say hi, I've got work to do." Minho shrugged.

"OH, 'cause Y/n isn't here?" Hyunjin giggled as he tied his hair.

Minho made a face. "Really wanna go that way?"

"No sir.." Hyunjin laughed nervously as Jisung and Changbin walked in.

"Minho! You came! Man we c-" Jisung said only to be cut off by Minho patting his head and moving him, hands at his waist.

"I came to say hi," Minho smiled, "I'm going now, I have work to do."

Jisung pouted. "It's cus Y/n is sick isn't it?"

Minho took a deep breath. "I'll see you guys tomorrow?"

When he left he made another copy of his notes in color, hole punched them, and put them in a nice folder before he went to his apartment. He stared at his phone.

"You should text her." Chan said over his shoulder.

"Why would I?" Minho looked at his friend. "Nah." He tossed his phone onto the couch and went to the kitchen and got to work making soup.

Jeongin appeared at his side. "Whatcha making?"

"It's not for you guys." Minho said, rolling his eyes.

"Then who is it for?" Chan said, looking over his shoulder.

"Yeah." Jeongin huffed.

Minho's mouth opened and he closed it again, deciding it was better to not say anything. Somehow he managed to get the food out of the apartment without either man getting it. He drove to your apartment and went up to your floor before raising his hand to knock on the door, he stopped himself.

Stop being an idiot... he thought before knocking on the door and waiting for a moment.

A girl with long hair and big eyes stared at him for a moment. "You are?" She said, leaning against the door frame.

Minho looked at her, "Lee Minho, Y/n's friend."

"Oh?" the woman got in his face. "What exactly makes you think you're Y/n's friend?"

"I- Well-" Minho stuttered.

"Doyeon."

Minho looked past the woman at you and sucked in a breath, you stood there wearing a pair of pajama pants and a baggy shirt.

"You know this guy?" the woman, Doyeon, questioned, pointing at Minho.

"He's the guy I'm doing the project with." You said, before clearing your throat and coughing in your elbow.

"Eesh, back to bed." Your roommate started ushering you back to your room and motioning for Minho to enter.

He closed the door behind him and put the food down in your kitchen but you pulled away from Doyeon and sat on the couch, arms out towards the man.

Doyeon looked between you for a moment. "I'll uh- Leave y'all to it-"

"Minho give me the damn food." Your eyes narrowed.

He smiled slightly and looked around your kitchen before finding a bowl and spoon with Doyeon's help. He got you some soup and carefully brought it to you.

You took it from him and took a cautious sip, eyes lighting up at the taste of it. "AH! Minho! You saved me! Doyeon's food was going to kill me!"

"HEY!" Your roommate huffed.

Minho laughed. "I'm glad you like it. You could've told me you were sick. We're par- friends no?"

You looked at him for a moment. "Yeah. My fault.."

He shook his head and handed you the folder. "Catch up Madam President."

You looked at the folder for a moment before looking at him, "I- thank you."

Minho somehow managed to suppress the smile that wanted to come to his face. "Yeah, whatever, just make sure you get better, taking notes is hard." He muttered.

You rolled your eyes.

After Doyeon went to bed, Minho persuaded you to also go to sleep, he made you take more medicine for your cough.

"You'll be back tomorrow or the day after?" he asked.

"The day after probably, in case I'm still contagious." You said softly.

He hummed. "I'll take good notes then."

You laughed lightly. "Thank you really.."

"The president can't fall behind because of an illness."

You smiled. "Idiot.."

He smiled gently. "Go to sleep, I'm going to leave before your friend jumps to conclusions."

You huffed a laugh. "Okay."

"Alright... Sleep well Y/nnie." He said as he left your room.

"Good night Min..."

Minho closed your bedroom door and made his way out of your apartment, making sure to lock the door before leaving. He leaned against your door as he closed it. "Dummy..." He muttered. "Relax it's good for you.." He said softly before walking down the hall to the elevator.

You did manage to come in to class the day after and you were immediately greeted by the student council in a bit of disarray because of the upcoming campus tour.

"Excuse me!" You clapped your hands to get the people's attention.

They all looked at you before Yuna jumped on you.

"OH Y/N I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE BACK!" She squealed.

"Schedule." You smiled at her.

"Yes ma'am!" She jumped into her her chair and spun for a moment before slamming her hands on her desk. "The high schoolers will be touring our campus the day after tomorrow, on Monday you have your speech in front of the administration and you have a scheduled meeting with a student later.

You nodded.

The people in the room stared at you for a brief moment.

"WELL?!" Jia shouted all of a sudden. "GET TO WORK WE CAN'T HAVE CHAOS WITH HIGH SCHOOLERS ON CAMPUS!"

The students started scrambling to get things done and you stood and went to history, greeting your teacher and apologizing for your absence before going to sit beside Minho.

"You're late." He smirked.

You checked your watch, you were three minutes later than usual. "You're suspiciously early."

"It's becoming a habit. You're rubbing off on me." He shuddered slightly.

You pushed him gently and he turned to look at you, as if asking you seriously just shoved him like that.

"I hope you don't rub off on me." You smiled.

Minho rolled his eyes.

Mrs. Jung started class and you kicked off quickly, you had to admit, Minho was a decent note taker.

After class you went to your office and fixed yourself a bit, waiting for the student who wanted to meet you. You opened your lip gloss and were in the middle of applying it to your lips when you heard a voice you dreaded to hear..

"Dolling up for me?"

You froze, looking at your mirror.

"Y/n?" Yeongsu said in a sing-song voice, you felt icky with how he drew your name out slowly, taunting you... "You haven't answered my calls, thought I'd pay you a visit." he grabbed the tiny cat figure you had on your desk.

You closed the mirror and looked at him. "Why are you here?"

"I got worried when I heard you were sick." He sighed, walking around your desk and kneeling, he tried to take your hand in his, "After all, you're my girl.."

You pulled your hand back roughly and glared down at him. "I am not yours. If you have nothing to talk about please leave."

Yeongsu cocked a brow. "I'm not one of your little student council members you can order around, Y/n." He stood.

"Leave." You said more firmly.

He reached his hand out to caress your cheek and you grabbed his wrist.

"Don't touch me," You said through grit teeth, "Leave now."

He stared at you for a long moment and you held your breath. Yeongsu pulled away and rolled his eyes, "You're still so uptight." he muttered, reaching into his pocket and taking out a cigarette. "That's fine," He looked at you. "I like it when you fight back."

You bristled.

He lit the cigarette and took a long drag, exhaling slowly. "If only they knew their perfect president ended up in my be-"

"Get out!" You shouted, springing from your seat so fast it hit the wall with a loud bang.

Jia opened the door to the office at that sound and stared in shock at Yeongsu.

He smirked taking another drag in the silence, exhaling and then whispering, "You're not all that amazing, Madam President."

You stared at your desk, trembling with rage as he walked out of the room.

"Y/n.." Seungmin ran in and stared at Yeongsu as he left before running to you. "Y/n-"

"Open the windows.." You muttered, the smoke choking you, no, the thought of that bastard choking you.

"Wh-" Jia started.

"Open a damn window!" You shouted before falling into your seat, burying you face in your hands. "Please..."

Seungmin ran to the side of the room and began opening the windows.

You took a few deep breaths, "Let's get ready for the tour..."

While finalizing the plans for the tour, Jia and Yuna left before you as most of the council did, you sent emails to the schools that would be coming and arranged for food for the students. You were so engrossed in your work you didn't notice the sky darkening and were only pulled out of your grind by the rumble of thunder.

You looked out the window as rain droplets started pelting against the window. "Crap." You looked around your desk for an umbrella and cursed as you found nothing in its usual spot.

You grabbed your stuff and shoved it into your bag before heading to the front of the school, you opened your phone about to call a cab.

"Y/nnie never has a ride does she?"

You turned and stared at Minho.

He smiled, holding up his keys.

In the car the only sounds there were was the sound of the window wipers and the quiet music on the radio.

"Let's go to my place, it's closer." He reasoned.

You looked at him. "Yeah, okay."

When you got to Minho's apartment he got out with the umbrella before going to your side and shielding you from the rain as you walked in. The elevator ride was quiet. Too quiet so you said, "We're going to keep researching."

"Yeah." He said, "Uh- My friends hang around here often. Don't mind them too much, they're a little um.. rowdy."

You nodded, "I don't mind."

Only when you got to the apartment you were surprised to see not one or two friends but three men and three cats.

One of the men looked up from something he was eating, "Minho, who's the girl?"

"Minho brought a girl home!?" A man with very chubby cheeks who you recognized immediately as Jisung poked his head out of a room, he froze when he saw you before laughing lightly and going back into the room.

"He did?!" A familiar voice said in shock.

You looked at Chan one of the fraternity presidents.

He looked at you, then Minho and back at you, "How did this happen?"

"RIGHT!?" Jisung called.

"We're here to work on a project!" Minho huffed, "Please.

"OHH!" The muscular man at the table looked a bit shocked for a moment. "We'll leave then, yea?"

"Yeah.." Minho rolled his eyes as Jisung and Chan came out of wherever they were and gathered their stuff.

As they were leaving the muscular man shouted, "USE PROTECTION!"

Your face got hot and you turned to the door.

"CHANGBIN!" Minho shouted.

"SORRY! Leaving now!" He called back before he finally left.

You looked at him. "Let's get to work shall we?"

He laughed slightly and motioned to the sitting area.

"Your cats are cute." You said as a dark colored striped cat came up to you.

"That's Dori." he said as you pet the cat. "Soonie." He motioned to a white and orange cat laying on the floor, "Doongie." He pointed at the last cat which was walking over to Minho.

"The names are cute." You hum as you let Dori run off.

"Someone called them old fashioned..." Minho rolled his eyes.

"Who?"

"No one important. Let's get to work."

For the most part you and Minho worked very diligently and then your phone buzzed, you gave it a glance before it buzzed again and you frowned turning it on its face to ignore it. It buzzed again and you huffed, grabbing the device.

You saw the instagram messages and rolled your eyes.

You hum and put your phone down.

"What?" Minho asks.

"Nothing." You shrug.

Parties with Hae-joo were... a lot... especially since Hae-joo was such good friends with Yeongsu.. 'For old times sake' worried you. Did Yeongsu put her up to it?

You jumped as Minho flicked your cheek. "HEY!"

"Pay attention." He rolled his eyes.

You hummed and looked back at your work.

"Is there any particular place you like?" Minho looked up from his computer.

"Not really no." You shrugged. "Maybe my bed."

He rolled his eyes. "The beach?"

"Never been." You said looking at your computer.

"HUH!?" he blinked in shock. "It's like an hour away!"

"I never have time I'm always working or sleeping. or both." You laughed lightly. "I didn't live too close to a beach when I was a kid either."

"I'll take you one day."

You stopped typing. "You serious? I don't need to go-"

"Its really pretty there. At the beach I mean.. especially at night."

You noticed the way he smiled slightly.

"Friend of mine took me and" He sat up and started typing. "It's just really nice."

"I'll consider visiting." You laughed.

That night Minho was scrolling on instagram when he got a message from Jisung.

The first thing Minho thought about was how the heck YOU of all people would actually go to a party like that.

The tour began early, the moment the high schoolers arrived you made sure everyone was on their best behavior. As you showed the students around the classrooms and lecture hall, you noticed him watching you from his seat in his accounting class.

Yeongsu was watching you as you told the high schoolers about the class before motioning for them to follow you out. You came to your history class and greeted Mrs. Jung, explaining the touring high schoolers and then you explained the class and it content and why it was a mandatory class.

"We'll continue now," You said about to leave, as you ushered the students out, Minho came down from his seat and grabbed your arm gently.

"Are you coming over later?" He asked.

You blinked a bit stunned, "No, I have to get ready for my meeti-"

He made a face, "We need to finish the project,"

"We have a few more days. It's fine." You smiled and pulled away.

"Is he your boyfriend?" One of the high schoolers asked.

Your mouth fell open, "I-"

Minho looked at you and smirked, "She's a very close friend, we're not dating."

"Oh," the student said.

You cringed as one of the girls gave Minho her number on a slip of paper. "Let's continue."

Minho looked at you and laughed lightly.

After classes you were in the student council office and you decided to visit Hyunjin in the dance studio. You opened the door and blinked a few times in confusion at someone fixing Hyunjin's stance.

"It's ugly." The person said. That voice was familiar...

"AGH! HOW!" Hyunjin fumed.

"Stand like this!" The person stood the supposed proper way.

"THATS HOW I W-" Hyunjin's mouth froze as he saw you.

"What?" Minho stared at you in shock for a moment.

"You like dancing?" You smiled slightly.

Hyunjin grinned devilishly behind Minho and tried to run away but the older man grabbed him and dragged him back.

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Is that a problem prez?"

You made a face. "No. Not at all. You should teach me sometime." You walked around a bit. "I just came to say hi... I'll go. Leave you guys to fix that."

Hyunjin tried to pull away from Minho who held him tightly by the forearm. "SAVE ME!" He mouthed.

You rolled your eyes and left.

At the party, it wasn't surprising that majority of the students were acting like it was a club, you squeezed through the crowd and looked around a bit.

"Ain't no way the president herself came to a party like this."

You turned and rolled your eyes at your friend Hongjoong, "Long time no see."

"How could you ever see any of us if you're always cooped up in that student council office?" A tall dark-haired man threw an arm around Hongjoong.

"You act like I'm there 24/7 Hwa." You laughed.

"We never see you anymore." He shrugged, "You don't want to associate with the riffraff of your past huh?"

"You aren't riffraff," You sighed, grabbing a soda from a table as you continued walking, "I just decided to grow up a bit."

The loud music shook the whole house and you felt it vibrating through you as you walked. You opened the soda can and took a quick sip.

"Y/N!"

You turned to the voice and smiled at Hae-joo, "Hey."

She hugged you, "Didn't think you'd actually come..."

"I didn't either, looking for a fr-" You stopped half way through your sentence and stared at Yeongsu, who was smoking in the corner with his guys, staring at you.

Hae-Joo's eyes followed yours. "He won't bother you, I made him promi-"

"Since when has he kept a promise." You took another sip of your soda.

"Come on, everyone's waiting for you." Hae-joo dragged you to the kitchen, all your old friends were there, laughing and smiing and drinking.

San was the first to notice you. "Y/N" He put down his drink and hugged you tightly.

"Hey! Hey-" You squeaked as everyone else piled on you.

"Give the girl a break. You'll crush her." Yunho rolled his eyes and smiled, "Good to see you."

You and your friends caught up when you noticed him as he walked in with Jisung and Chan. You left your friends for a moment and started walking over to him. His dark eyes met yours through the crowd and your heart skipped a beat.

He walked over to you and laughed slightly as he looked you over, "First time I've seen you dressed in something other than business casual or pajamas."

You made a face, "I'm not always dressed business casual."

"You always look uptight." He motioned to the crop top. "It's a good look on you."

Your face got hot and he looked at someone talking to him for a moment. You left Minho there and went back to your friends, you huffed as you noticed they were no longer in the kitchen.

You picked up your soda and took a sip after you finished the can you noticed that your head felt a little foggy like you were drunk. You stumbled slightly, it was a fucking soda. Unless.. you cursed under your breath, why had you left it unattended.

You stumbled and almost fell over, someone caught you and you were about to apologize when you saw the tattoo on his wrist and pulled away.

"Y/n, are you alright?" Yeongsu reached for you and you shook your head. You needed to leave, you needed to find Minho.

You pushed past the sweaty, dancing bodies and found tipsy Hyunjin and Chan.

"Y/n?" Chan stood, completely alert suddenly, "You drank?"

You shook your head, "Where's Minho?"

"I haven't seen him, do you need to lea-"

You pulled away and ran looking around you went up the steps and looked around at the drunk students, then as you entered a room you saw them. Minho, Jisung, and several other people you didn't recognize, you're heart stopped as you took in the position Minho was in.

A girl sat on his lap, taking turns with him at a cigarette. You watched as the smoke clouded up as Minho exhaled. The girl giggled and was practically rubbing herself all over him. Your breath picked up and you felt tears clouding your vision.

Minho looked at the door and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of you. Your eyes met and you shook your head before you took off running.

Minho came out of the room looking around the party. Where had you run off to.. You weren't the type to drink. At least he didn't think you were. You looked scared.

"Y/N!" He pushed past some people in the party then he heard someone.

"Y/N JUST RAN OFF!" a guy groaned.

Minho turned slowly.

"YEONGSU!" Hyunjin...?

Minho stared at his friend who had another guy by the collar.

"What did you do?" Hyunjin said lowly.

"My friend put something in her drink nothing bad-"

Minho saw red. "WHAT!?"

Hyunjin released Yeongsu and backed up as Minho stalked towards them.

Yeongsu stared at Minho, "What? You want to fight me? I didn't think she'd run out like th-"

Minho punched him hard.

You lay in bed staring at your ceiling as your phone rang for what felt like the hundredth time, maybe it was, you weren't counting.

"Girl.." Doyeon whispered as she walked into your room with (fav flavor) ice cream. "What happened?"

"Maybe I'm stupid, Doyeon..." You muttered.

Doyeon looked at your phone as it rang again, Minho's contact flashing across the screen. "Did he-"

"Him and Yeongsu aren't that different." You rolled away from her.

"Y/n.." Doyeon hugged you, "You don't need a guy, you've got me and Jia and Yuna... Hell even your guy friends."

You stared blankly at the wall.

"Y'know what, we're going to cheer you up, right now." She dragged you into a sitting position and opened the tub of ice cream, "The student council president is the strongest most independent woman I know, and she is the last person to beat herself up over a boy."

You stared at your friend. "Y-Yeah."

"Come on." She held up two spoons, "We can watch that show you wanted to try."

You walked into the student council office the following Monday and sat in your chair. "Yuna, schedule."

"We have a general meeting today and that's it." She said.

"Uh huh."

Jia's computer dinged. "You have a student meeting today."

"Schedule it for after lunch." You said, you walked into history class and turned in your paper on the Roman empire, you felt a twist in your gut, Minho wrote this with you.

You went to your seat and pulled out your computer, as class began you took notice of how Minho wasn't late... he never came.

You pushed down the worry in your gut and dragged yourself to lunch then the student council office. On your way you saw Jisung in the hall, he looked at you for a moment before turning back to the person he spoke to. You got into your office and stared at your phone, the notifications from Minho had piled up,you scrolled through the message notifications of "I'm sorry", "Answer", and "We need to talk".

You put your phone down as the door opened and you stared at Yeongsu. He smirked as he closed the door, "Heard your little boyfriend had a bit of trouble." You noticed the black eye he had.

Trouble... what trouble could Minho be in? "He's not my boyfriend," You said. "What can I do for you, Yeongsu?"

"Come on Y/n. Let's think logically here, you like when I do that." He walked around the desk and behind your chair. "Minho is in the same boat I am, maybe he's got a little heart. Maybe he's tryna crawl out of the pit we're in. But the same way you went to that party after you said you were done with us, he's fucking around with other girls because it's in his mind. You can take the person away from their habit. But you can't take the habit away from a person, Y/n..."

You stared at your desk. "What do you know..." You muttered as you looked at your phone on the desk. A notification from Jisung came on the screen.

"Huh?" he turned your chair to face him. "Think about it Y/n, you came back, you haven't changed deep down and neither has he."

"What do you know?" You looked up at him speaking a bit louder.

"Y/n."

"I'm asking 'What do you know?' what do you know about change that I don't? For you to educate me?" You stood and glared at him. "I'm different, I'm uptight, I'm reserved, I don't trust anyone! But I trust him. I've seen him change, I know he's not perfect, he's tempted all the time, he makes mistakes! He's human. He's more human than you will ever be." You pointed a finger in Yeongsu's face and said lowly. "So don't tell me he'll never be better. Leave." You pointed to the door.

Yeongsu stared down at you. "You think he's that good for you huh.."

Your eyes narrowed.

He didn't say anything more and left the room. You stood there and shakily exhaled before grabbing your phone and looking at the messages from Jisung.

You ran as fast as you could to the front of the school and called a cab, when it arrived the guy looked at you in the rearview mirror. "Where to?"

"Beach please.." You said frantically.

"Lady the beach is like an hour from here-"

You threw a wad of twenties to the front of the car. "Is that enough?"

The guy opened his mouth then closed it before turning on the engine again and looking at you, "Buckle up."

You gave him another twenty, "Make it fast."

When you got to the parking you waved the driver off and looked around, you ran to the sand and searched. You ran a bit and stumbled looking around you moved to get your phone and called Minho. It went straight to voicemail and you screamed running further into the beach looking for him, anything, his car, his jacket, anything..

You fell and gasped as you noticed that your heels were digging into the back of your ankle. You sat down and stared at your phone, the last message from Minho was from the morning. You took off your shoes and winced. Remembering how Minho had given you those slippers and told you to wear more comfortable shoes.

Your eyes filled with tears as you called him again, it went straight to voicemail. You were about to throw your phone into the sand when you heard the soft sound of sound shifting beneath someone's feet.

"Didn't I tell you to wear comfier shoes.." Minho said softly, he kneeled in front of you, taking your feet gently in his hands.

You stared at him, tears starting to fall from you eyes, "I was rushing.."

He looked up at your face and smiled softly. "You crying prez?"

You wiped your face and punched him. "I WAS WORRIED!"

"I thought you didn't want to see me anymore, I messed up, you wer-"

You kissed him hard.

He blinked in shock for a moment as you pulled away.

"Don't scare me like that!" You punched his chest again.

"I'm sorry.." He whispered. "For everything."

You stared at him for a moment before hugging him tightly. "I hate you."

He smiled and hugged you back. "I love you, too.."

Minho picked you up on his back and carried you back to where he parked his car. He got you in and drove to a small convenience store, buying you bandages for your feet and some slippers. He sat you on a bench outside and carefully put the bandages on the blisters on your feet.

You watched him for a while. "Who was that girl..."

"Which girl?" He looked up for a moment.

"The one who was on your lap." You muttered.

He looked up at you. "Y/n," he looked apologetic. "I don't even know her..."

You smiled slightly, "So she isn't important?"

He smiled. "Were you jealous?"

"NO!" You looked away, cheeks burning.

"I like someone a lot more than a random hoe.." He put the slippers on your feet.

You spun to look at him. "Who?"

He rolled his eyes and stood, bending to be eye level with you. "You, Madam President." He kissed your forehead gently.

You stared at him.

"It's late, let's go back, hm?" he helped you to your feet and led you back to the car.

You finally checked your phone after it buzzed for what felt like the millionth time.

"Do you want to go back?" Minho looked at you, before looking back at the road, "We have class tomorrow."

"I already turned in the paper." You said, putting your phone down. "We can go back tomorrow.."

Minho looked at your hands on the console, "Yeah..." He reached over and took your hand in his, giving it a soft squeeze.

You walked into the student council office to see Jia and Yuna talking to Yeongsu.

He noticed your presence first and quickly got up. "Y/N!" He walked over to you, reaching for you.

You took a step back. "Explain." You looked at the girls.

"We thought he'd know where you were." Jia said.

"Where were y-" Yuna started.

"With me." Minho walked in and smiled at Yeongsu.

Yuna and Jia stared at you.

Yeongsu opened his mouth to say something but stopped as Minho put an arm around you.

"You are?" He stared at Yeongsu.

Yeongsu closed his mouth and walked out.

Seungmin looked at Yeongsu walking out as he walked in, took in the sight in front of him and rounded on his heel. "Good luck with that."

"I KNEW IT!" Yuna pointed at you two.

You rolled your eyes.

"Coffee?" Minho whispered in your ear, "You don't want to be late."

"Why so uptight?" You raised a brow at him.

He rolled his eyes and smiled as he dragged you out.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 if your name is in blue i can't tag you very sorry

@asahisimpnation, @seolarsonlyloveisyou, @leeknowsnot @oddracha @bubblespop

@palindrome969 @armystay89 @bubblerizz @igetcarriedawaywithyou @hot-emotional-mess

@seungminindabuilding @ot8 @Rylea08

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tropes-and-tales · 7 months

Text

Not Real Just Yet

Day 14: Breeding Kink (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!)

CW: Breeding kink; the appearance of dub-con but with clear consent discussed; smut (PiV, unprotected); 18+ only. Again, this is a breeding KINK with an element of dub-con (but consensual), so if that isn't your thing, pass on this one.

Word Count: 1513

AN: This was requested by an anonymous person! It was also not edited in any way!

It’s not real.

It’s not real just yet because Bob is active duty, often deployed for long stretches.

It’s not real just yet because you’re in a PhD program that requires long, long hours: as you TA for undergrad classes, as you pore over old archived papers buried in colleges across the U.S., as you spend late nights on your thesis.

It’s not real just yet because you and Bob are sometimes just ships passing in the night, and you both hate it, but you’re both committed to each other and see this current pain as paying off in the near future.

It’s not real just yet because Bob, modern though he is, has old-fashioned ideas. He wants to put a ring on your finger first, wants to carry you over the threshold of a shared home, wants to settle into a nice stretch of married life as a couple before adding to your family.

It’s not real just yet. It’s just a fun way of playing around in the bedroom, and it’s more about the power dynamics of the breeding kink. You have an implant, so the risk is minimal, but it’s still fun to pretend.

Bob, the back seater who often feels powerless: he gets to take the dominant role.

You, the harried student who often feels like there’s too much piled on your shoulders: you get to take the submissive role.

-----

It’s not real just yet, but it sure as hell feels real. Bob is finally home from a tour around the South Pacific, and you’ve finally turned in pages to your thesis advisor. You each have the luxury of time, for once, and you turn your respective life frustrations on each other in the best possible way.

It’s easy to forget it’s not real when Bob slides inside you, the wet silky heat of your pussy and not a single barrier to stop him from feeling every sensation. The delicious slickness of your arousal, the molten warmth, the way you bear down when he’s buried in you and whispers in your ear. He whispers the filthiest things he’s ever said in bed with anyone, and sometimes he’s embarrassed in the morning when he remembers it, but the embarrassment never lingers—because he loves you, because he feels safe to explore this side of himself with you.

I’m gonna breed you, sweetheart.

Just take it. Good girl, take it.

Gonna look so good, full of my baby.

Gonna make you a mommy.

Take all of it.

Taking me so good. Can’t wait to see your belly all round with our baby.

Just lie back and take it like a good girl.

He fucks you slowly, deep, purposeful thrusts that he punctuates with his dirty talk. He knows it’s not real, but it’s so easy to fall into the fantasy, especially when you whimper at his words, when you cling to his shoulders and whine out your answering script.

Wait, Bobby…wait…

Maybe we shouldn’t…

It’s all a game, of course. It toes the line of dubious consent but Bob knows it’s all consensual because you never utter the safe word and neither does he. And sometimes he thinks maybe it’s sick, maybe it’s twisted, and maybe no one else would understand it, but when he voices those concerns to you, you always allay them. You always cup his face and tell him that what the two of you do in the privacy of your bedroom is your business and no one else’s.

“Besides,” you told him once. “You have no idea what your pals in Top Gun are into when it comes to kinks. I bet Bagman is a foot fetish weirdo.”

So he pushes those doubts aside because fuck if it isn’t the hottest thing he’s done, exploring all the weird and surprising twists within his own sexuality and yours.

Your first orgasm is always the strongest—maybe because you pretend to fight it, pretend you don’t want this. Bob notices all of your little tells: the way your fingertips dig into the blades of his shoulders until he knows he’ll have dusty little bruises there in the morning. The way your arousal absolutely soaks his pistoning cock, soaks the thatch of rough curls at the base of him. The way you whine out no, please, as if your body is betraying you, and isn’t that part of the fantasy too: that he fucks you so well that you can’t fight off the orgasm he works from you?

“Good girl,” he whispers against your temple. “Good girl, coming for me.” He slows his thrusting, savors the spasms of your aftershocks, allows you to recover.

“Please Bobby,” you breathe out. “It’s too risky—”

He closes his eyes and kisses your temple, feels the sweat making your hair damp. “You think too much,” he murmurs. He shifts his head, nips at your earlobe before he whispers in your ear, “just take it like a good girl.”

“Bobby—”

“You’re going to look so fucking hot, swollen with my baby.” He says that staring into your eyes, which are wide in mock-fear, part of the game, but he can see how wide your pupils are too, your eyes damned near black, and it’s a reassuring reminder that yes, you are into this game too, you’re enjoying it as much as him. And sure enough, there’s the answering clench in your pussy, the way you unconsciously bear down on him as he starts to resume his slow, firm rhythm of fucking you.

And now that you’ve come once, he takes it up a notch, ratchets the moment higher. He gets an arm under your knee and hoists your leg up and out, spreads you out more for him to bury himself in you. It grants him that extra bit of depth into your pussy, and each time he hilts his cock in you, it draws out a low groan from you, a throaty growl that makes the coil of tension in his gut tighten.

Here is usually where the game falters just a bit. Bob’s never had this with any other girlfriend before; sex was always a fraught, anxious thing for him. He always worried about his performance in bed. Most of his girlfriends before you usually laid in bed like a starfish, limp and unresponsive, and it took Bob a long time to realize that it was them, not him, that was the problem.

But sex with you is always good. Sometimes fun and playful, sometimes intimate and soulful. Sometimes, like now, it’s both of you working through your own personal demons—him and his feelings of inadequacy, you and your feelings of overwhelm—but doing it together. Exploring shadowy sides of yourselves in a perfectly safe, perfectly loving way.

How could he not want to put that ring on your finger, carry you over that threshold? Bob could travel the world for the rest of his life and never find anyone half as suited to him as you.

And now, your second orgasm approaches. Now your hands shift from clutching at his shoulders. Your palms lay flat on his chest and you push lightly against him, the climax of your game timed to the climax you’ll share with him.

“Bobby, please,” you pant out. “It’s not s-safe. Pull…pull out—”

But he doesn’t because it’s part of the game, and a beat later, when you arch underneath him, when your eyes flutter shut and you wail out his name, he pushes into you and stills. He feels his own tension snap, and he comes with a pained fuck, baby, take it, and it’s absolutely perfect: the way your pussy ripples against his cock, how it pulls the thick ropes of his cum deeper into the confines of your body.

Here is where the game falls apart. Or, rather, it ends. Sex is a release for both of you, but since you are generally more stressed and wound-up than Bob, you have the habit of giggling directly afterwards. Which might make a lesser man wither, but the tic charms Bob, and now he chuckles along with you.

“Oof,” you breathe out once the laughing passes. You wrap an arm around his neck and pull him down to you. “That was great.”

Bob is still half hard, so he shifts his weight carefully to avoid slipping out of you. He leans his weight on one forearm and gazes down at you with a smile. He brushes gentle kisses across your warm face. “I missed you.”

You smile up at him. “I missed you too. I’m glad you’re home.”

Home. Right now, it’s just a crummy little apartment near campus, but as Bob settles closer to you, he can already picture the future with you: a better apartment or maybe even a house somewhere. You with your PhD, him with his military career. Each of you with rings on your fingers, vows made and received, maybe a dog adopted from a shelter.

And maybe, after that, you can play at your mutual kink for real.

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #top gun maverick #kinktober 2023 #tropes and tales

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cursedcola · 2 years

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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw(Here!), Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. I've been thinking about maybe programming a small fan-made mini-otome using these ideas. Just for some practice for school while also being self indulgent hehe

Leona Kingscholar

Let’s just rip the bandaid off. Leona dates to marry. He’s not someone to invest his time in something troublesome, and frankly? Not many people catch his interest. Sure. He might think someone is physically attractive, but there’s a difference. He doesn’t follow the traditional path either. The ‘dating’ stage doesn’t last long because he’s already made up his mind prior to it.

Dating is pretty much just formality. The moment you agree to it, you’re essentially agreeing to marry him. He’s not going to put in effort for just anyone. Bonus points if he’s the one to confess his feelings first. That is basically concrete confirmation that he intends to marry you.

Leona proposing is inevitable. Only two things stand in his way: time and pride. Time, because he is no idiot. Your ways are unlike his people, and unlike him. He’s patient. He knows how to play the game. He can wait, but not forever. He’ll observe you over time and slip in questions here and there about your goals in life. Then he’ll find a good time frame. Please remember that Leona is not just an ambitious hot-head. He’s a smart one.

Then there is his pride. He will not put himself in a position that has a chance to fail. No. He will play dirty, and wait until you are tinkering with the idea of marriage. He’ll steer conversations towards talks of the future, and make it so you’re the one who starts them. All to get you warmed up to the idea of spending your life with him, and to a stage where he can clearly tell where you lie emotionally. He might appear neutral on the outside; however, it’s all according to plan. While you are just beginning to imagine your lives together, Leona’s already had the thought process long prior. You don’t need to know that though.

The icing on the cake is when you visit his home. Checka is Leona’s secret wingman. Your soft spot for the boy is something he takes advantage of, and lets Checka consume your attention during a tour of the palace. You meet his elder brother, who irritatingly pries for details about your relationship. Leona lets it go. Just this once, because he knows you feeling at home is more important in the long run. You share a room with him during your stay, and he made arrangements for small changes according to your tastes. You’re also gifted with a new wardrobe of traditional clothes for your stay, and given free reign of the area. Naturally you are guarded in secret, as per the King’s orders. His brother knows as well as Leona does that it is imperative that your stay goes well.

You will be touring landmarks and tourist spots within the continent as well. While Leona would much rather laze his free time away in his room (away from his family), he goes. Word spread that he was bringing home his partner. Thank the gossiping maids for that. Walking with you makes the rumors official, and is safer than having you walk alone with Checka and some royal guards. That would have arisen suspicion, and been troublesome. More troublesome than walking around and confirming to the public that you are not to be touched.

Ignoring the many remarks about how Leona is unusually active during his visit (thanks to you), his pride is high. You’ve thoroughly been slotted into his life, and are accepted. Any apprehensions about you denying him were snuffed out. The way you took to living with him so easily proves it. If you weren’t welcomed by his family? Well, it wouldn’t change anything. This scenario just makes what he’s about to do easier.

The first night you arrived, Farlan presented Leona with a Kingscholar family heirloom. A ring that has been in their family for generations. Not meant to be worn permanently, and only for proposals. Farlan used it to propose to his wife, and at the ceremony presented her with the ring he picked out. Now Leona will use it to propose to you.

One look at it and Leona declined. He’s spent his whole life chasing things that he couldn’t have because of his birth status. He would not yield this moment to tradition. Farlan was shocked, but rescinded the offer with a supportive smile. His brother had found himself, and the King was proud.

On the evening of your final night at the palace - Leona finds you alone on the balcony of your shared room. If he was going to do anything, it would be now. Initially he was 100% confident in getting your acceptance, but the longer he watches the less sure he becomes. Deep down there is rooted fear that he will once again become second choice, and that you’ll choose to return to your world over him. His hands are in his pockets, and one of them fists around the ring he prepared long ago.

Right when he moved to back out, you turned to come back inside. Your serene stature brightened at the sight of him, and he gained back some confidence. If you could only look at him that way forever…well, here goes nothing.

What are you doing out there without a coat? It gets extremely cold in the Savannah during the night. Do you want to get sick? I won’t be the one taking care of you….,” he sighs, pushing the door open, “Stubborn mule. Make some room, I’m coming out there….I’m near-certain that you figured it out, but this isn’t just a normal vacation. I brought you here to ask for your hand. What?? Stop playing dumb. Not your ‘hand’ hand - oh, for crying out- marriage! I am asking you to marry me!….I am taking the laughter as a yes, now give me your finger”

{ 'Everything the light touches...is our kingdom' - A golden sunrise. Befitting. He used to hate them. Hate that phrase too. Yet you are the sun that Leona has been searching for. He continues to fight against fate in hopes that his efforts will bare fruit, and you are living proof that there is a chance. Maybe not easily. His life might not be what he originally dreamed. He may not get to sit on a throne of light . Yet there is a light in his life, and he likes to think that fate did not bring it to him. No, he found you all on his own.}

Ruggie Bucchi

'I don't see why you haven't proposed to that young darling yet. Keep waiting and you'll miss your chance, boy'

Well, of all the things Ruggie expected to hear during his visit home, that wasn't one. Normally he'd be nagged over being away too long, or not writing home enough. This? It caught him off guard. Grandma was always sticking her nose where it didn't belong...but, maybe she had a point this time.

Your relationship. It's not something Ruggie has given much thought. It's uncharacteristic of him to get comfortable enough not to look a few steps ahead, but he's gone soft. A fact that he begrudgingly accepts with a grain of salt.

Naturally, he doesn't admit this out loud and instead changes the topic. On the outside, he acts normal and helps out around the house. However, internally he is thinking over his grandmother's prying.

Marriage. It's not necessarily 'beneficial,' to say the least. With only a few months left until graduation, he'll finally be entering the rat-race to secure himself a comfortable position for life. He's worked hard and developed connections to make it happen. The finish line is right there.

Where does that leave you? He can't necessarily be as flexible if he has a partner to worry about. It's a weak link, and might cause problems in his plans. The smart thing to do would be to break things off. After all, how many school romances get a happy ending? It's so unrealistic. He'll be busy with work, you'll have your own responsibilities, and eventually it will be like you are strangers with a title tying both of you together.

This reasoning alone is enough to settle the problem. It's just - he doesn't like it. It's the most realistic path and he hates it. If it was about finding a companion, then he could do it later in life.

But when he tries to picture that lifestyle with anyone other than you, it doesn't sit right. It's physically upsetting, and makes him nauseated.

Sleep evades him that night. Ruggie finds himself sitting in the kitchen doing homework, burning the midnight oil until he can think with a clear head. Naturally, his all-knowing grandmother finds him there and makes him spill his thoughts.

She's direct with her advice. It's rare for Ruggie to be stumped considering his quick-wit, and understanding emotions is a wisdom you gain with experience.

For someone like Ruggie, who's always maximized every outcome and thought ahead - you're a weakness. Something that he can't control, and yet exactly what he needs in life. We don't get to choose who we love in life. Love is unpredictable, and Ruggie's found it at a young age. Career opportunities come and go, but he will never get back the time spent at your side...so why not maximize that instead? Hm?

He leaves for NRC the following day. For the last time, considering it is his final year. On the way he stops at multiple markets and dips into his savings. With nothing but a ring and an idea, he ditches his stuff in his dorm and heads to Ramshackle.

He's not nervous. That left his system the night prior. His grandmother's tough advice hardened that up quick.

He knocks on the door, half expecting one of the resident ghosts to answer. Instead it's you, and he's down on one knee before you can speak. With one hand, he holds out the ring. The other itches his nose in attempt to hide his wobbly grin.

"Shishishishi~ I don't have to explain what's going on, right? I'm sure you can put two-and-two together quickly. Are you really so surprised that you have nothing to say? Hmm, I guess that I can take the lead. Pretty soon I'll be leaving. You still have another year here, and I can't promise that I will be around much. Until now, I had no plan for us. Likely because being with you is the most natural thing I have experienced. I've always aimed for a life of comfort, but now I want you in that picture too, y'know? So...when you graduate next year, will you marry me? I'll be patiently waiting, shishi~”

{Rose Quartz. The symbol of unconditional love and family. Something Ruggie hasn't experienced much in his life, and is grateful for. Ruggie did not want to choose a generic gem. Not for this. He may be known for cutting corners, but this is too important. He has done his fair share of trading, and knows exactly what to look for when shopping. No salesperson alive could convince him otherwise. You may not understand the meaning behind the gem, but that's alright. He doesn't mind, because this is the ring he'll see on your finger until you're both old and grey}

Jack Howl

Jack takes the longest out of all in his dorm. In result, his proposal is the most natural. Not to say that he does not put thought into it! Oh no, this poor lad hella overthinks the event. It's just getting him to the proposing stage is - well, anticlimactic?

All Jack requires is time. Once you've both settled in to your lives on an individual standpoint, with time comes thoughts of taking your relationship to the next level. As adults who have been together for years, it's only natural? At least for Jack. He has never been for or against getting married. So, there really is no internal battle for him to fight. He just? Lets himself be happy with the idea? I know, I know. It sounds too easy - but think about it. Jack is responsible, kind, and a bit like a golden retriever (or should I just say wolf?). He doesn't ignore his feelings. So if he feels that he want's to marry you, then why not? The worst that can happen is you say no.

There was no epiphany. No spark or overwhelming feeling of affection that made him want to marry you. No impending doom, nervousness, or special moment that he can pinpoint as 'the moment'. Nothing. You weren't even around.

He was merely finishing up morning jog and heading home. The thought casually entered his head, and he let it stay. Over time it reappeared over and over, until he felt that he'd heard it enough to act on it.

Jack is high-key observant and knows your likes and dislikes by heart. He feels that such an important moment is something he needs to think through deeply, and on his own. Many have been at the receiving end of his determination, and that doesn't exclude you. Once he's set his mind to something, there is no holding back. Over the course of weeks he proceeds to undergo self-reflection, and craft a proposal that he feels is perfect.

One question he spends time thinking about is 'where,' because Jack would prefer to do an intimate act like proposing somewhere private. The last thing he wants you to feel is pressure to accept, so he chooses to propose on a late night walk. This might arise suspicion since he isn't in workout gear, which is rare. Yet it's a price Jack is willing to pay. He's never been great with surprises anyways.

He tries to uphold some element of mystery though. Do not laugh, but he put the in a plastic bag and hid it inside the container for his protein powder. When times get tough, you have to get a little creative.

Right before your evening stroll, he says that he wants to make a shake (under the pretense that afterwards he'll work-out). In actuality, he takes an empty bottle and slips the ring inside.

While you're both walking, he shakes it around and 'complains' that nothing is coming out. With you completely unknowing, he opens the cap and feigns surprise. It makes you curious, and he hands over the bottle a bit too eagerly

It's light, you note instantly. A glance inside reveals the ring, and when you pull it out Jack stops walking. His face sets with determination despite the red hue overtaking his neck and ears.

Will you marry me?? -- oh wait, that was too blunt, wasn't it? Hang on!, " he takes a breath, and coughs into his fist, "So. I've been doing some thinking. We've been together for years now, and to me you've become irreplaceable. I don't know how else to describe how I feel, other than to say that you are the person I want to spend my life with. I can only hope that you feel this way too,"

{He isn't a man of the arts. Jack has no eye for fancy jewels, or what's an appropriate design. He originally thought to have the shop keeper help him decide. Yet, that felt impersonal. So he perused many stores, and did his best to imagine your reaction to seeing each ring. Nothing caught his eye until this peridot. A simple cut with an eye-catching color. Sure, it's not what others would recommend but he liked it. Who would Jack be to deny his gut instinct?}

#twst headcanons #twisted wonderland fanfiction #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland leona #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst imagines #twst scenarios #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jack howl x reader #twst lack #twst ruggie bucchi #twst leona kingscholar #series #twst x reader

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leafostuff · 4 months

Text

One Heck of a Joyride[Ft. WooAh's Nana]

Word Count: 14-15K~ words

Collab with @octoberautumnbox

My Author's Notes: we are so excited to finally release this fic for yall, me and box have been working on this fic since the end of FEBRUARY (almost 3 months) and we have been working on it so hard to make it the best it can be so I really hope you will enjoy this fic

@octoberautumnbox's author notes: there u have it! took the better part of three months, but it was really fun to work on :DDDD Thanks to leafo for making sure i didn't slack LMAO

No tags since it is too long but this is fluff and smut

Thanks: of course @octoberautumnbox for working with me on this amazing collab. @4m1rz for being my lovely beta reader and @libraryoferos for being my motivation to not be lazy on this fic

And so without any further preface, let's get started, shall we?

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“And I expect you all to get along this year. Leave the past behind you as you all face a new future together.” Sporadic applause rises slowly from the crowd and dies down twice as quickly. The dean sighs away from the mic and drifts offstage, leaving everyone disinterested in the rest of the program. It all goes by in a blur, and finally ends right as the air conditioners start to fail against the heat of a summer not-yet-ended.

Your attention is drawn away from the droning on and on from the stage and towards the many characters that populate the theater with you. You catch glimpses of people talking with their friends, a few crazy hair colours, and the occasional sleeping student who’s no doubt already saving up hours for the all-nighters to come.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice someone in the front row with both people sitting next to her conspicuously leaning away. They seem to want to get up and leave her there by herself, but the way she gives no reaction despite the jeering tone coming from her seatmates leads you to think that she’s asleep herself.

~~~

“So yeah, That's the tour, bucko. Check the map if you’re ever lost.” Your student tour guide points at the multi-colored document on your phone. Vaguely you recall the various little symbols: which classrooms you can sleep in, which bathrooms are haunted, which shortcuts are best, all of the must-know basics of college life.

As you continue scanning around the campus, the girl from the assembly catches your attention again. She has her hood up this time, but you can tell it’s her; her quick pacing and how she is not looking around at anyone making you believe that she’s trying her best to hide.

“What about that one? Do we not talk about her?” you ask, pointing at the oblivious figure walking past, drawing eyes and whispers much like your own.

Your guide scoffs at the absurd idea. “That’s Nayeon. And no, we don’t. She fucked up last year, big time. Got a bunch of us in trouble. So stay away from her, she has those goody-two-shoes germs.” he says, walking away as while signaling you to follow him.

You wonder what she could have done to gain such a reputation. She was adorable earlier with her hood off, but the way people talk about her makes you want to steer clear against your own will.

~-~-~-~

Curiosity ends up killing the cat, and you manage to gather bits and pieces of the incident from last year from gossip, class lore, and even the way some professors acted:

“She’s the luckiest bitch in the world with not a single shred of common sense. Seriously, who goes and rats on a hundred other students like that?”

“The test incident shows she only looks out for herself, even if it means bringing down the entire class.”

“There’s really no excuse for it. You have the answer key in your hand, of course you take a picture! You don’t just leave it where it’ll incriminate some other innocent loser and say you’re only trying to do the right fucking thing.”

The sheer number of factoids you gather from the wild bunch of sources only slightly make sense. Unfortunately, trying to piece them together only took up more space and brainpower which you should have used to study for your midterms coming up. Keep to yourself and you can just barely pass and move on; there is no time for college drama.

After the exam, you approach the professor to ask about possibly bumping up your grade. You decided to maybe half-ass an extra credit assignment and get the lowest passing score, but you resolve to just see where it goes. While lost in thought, you nearly bump into the small girl in front of you. already talking to the teacher, and by the way they’re whispering, it seems like it’s something serious.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to do here anymore, Miss Kwon,” the professor admits as he takes off his glasses and rubs his nose bridge. “None of this was necessary. I thought we wanted to leave all this behind us.”

Nayeon looks down to her toes in defeat. “I’m sorry, Sir. I was just thinking, maybe I’d get sent out of class this time.” Her voice cracks, giving away her vulnerable state: she’s near tears but trying to fight everything back to look tough. Sadly for her, you think, none of it is working.

“Look, just try to lay low. It’s your last year before all of this starts to not matter anymore.” Your professor finally puts his glasses back on and looks Nayeon straight in the eye. “Trust me, you’re better off keeping your head down. You’ll be fine.”

She walks despondently off to the right and out the door. Your feet choose to follow her, but a sudden jolt restores your common sense. “And you, Mister New Guy, what seems to be the problem? Beside your dismal score, that is.”

You have a slight feeling you are not getting a higher score.

~-~-~

After talking it out fruitlessly with the professor, he releases you from his classroom and you make your way out. The conversation with him didn’t take long, and so you arrive to a few jeers and muffled laughter once you step outside.

“Serves her right. Trying all this bullshit isn’t gonna change anything.”

“Seriously, cheating on a test she obviously studied for? How dense could she be?”

“I bet she just wants to show us up. She’ll study and then cheat, then she gets perfect marks on the test and she’ll show us she’s untouchable again.”

You find it hard to believe that Nayeon would resort to something as convoluted and pointless as that, but then again, you really don’t know her to make a judgment. Whatever she was thinking, you agree that it was idiotic to pull that sort of thing, even if you didn’t see any of it.

The weather on campus is the right mix of cloudy and sunny, with rays of light shining respectfully on the grass and pavement of your college courtyard. Something tells you that people-watching by the gym feels like the perfect lunchtime activity for a day like this, so you find your way to the properly noisy setting and look for a spot out of the way.

You settle on a spot by the side of the gym with the perfect amount of shade and wind, but you’re instead drawn further back to the rear by strange and irregular noises. Turning the last corner, you’re met with a surprising figure.

It was Nayeon, sitting with her back against one of the walls, her entire body curled up like a ball. You slowly inch closer and closer to her, and you realize the strange noises that you heard before were instead sniffles and cries coming from the lonely girl. Finally as you get close enough, Nayeon feels your presence and raises her head.

Her eyes were full of tears, who knows for how long she had been crying, and you could feel the sadness coming from her eyes; they were trying to tell you something, however, it's hard to figure out what. Her expression of sadness didn't stay for long though as soon enough her expression turns angry when you get closer to her, squatting down to look at the girl from a closer angle.

“Please, go away. Leave me alone.” The small girl pushes you away, but with her hand preoccupied wiping away her tears, she can’t do much to get rid of you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You have the nerve to do what you did last year and still show your face?” The anger in your voice catches you off guard. Since when did you take it personally when it came to her?

“Oh fuck off, new guy,” she taunts. “So I’m fucking hiding here, what more do you want?” She tries to act tough again, but it’s painfully apparent to both of you that it isn’t working. At this point, you really do just want to leave her alone. And just like every other time, nothing’s stopping you. So why are you staying?

You breathe a sigh of defeat at the situation you find yourself in. “Look, I don’t have any sort of beef with you personally, but come on. This is pathetic. You’re only embarrassing yourself by doing all this bullshit that isn’t like you at all.”

“And what if it’s not like me?!” Her shout sends a few birds hiding in nearby bushes to take off. This sort of language takes you aback from her; Little Miss Perfect Kwon Nayeon, top honour student, teacher’s favourite pet, hating herself?

“I… I don’t like being me, and I don’t like what I am.” She wipes her tears again and tries (and fails) to look you in the eyes once more. “So if you’re another member of the ‘I hate Nayeon’ club, well… Better show the club president some respect.”

She sits back down with her back against the wall. Nayeon's eyes are wet for the last time before she wipes them off and faces her lack of tears.

Normally in situations like those you would just walk away and ignore people like those for the rest of the school year, but for some reason with Nayeon in front of you, showing herself being weak, fragile, and sad, something about her makes it so you can't leave the situation alone. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you have to know why.

“No,” you turn back to her as a determined expression is painted on your face.

“What?”

“I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me.” You stand your ground, arms crossed, and Nayeon can't seem to be any more pissed than before. “What is going on? What do you mean you don't like yourself?” you ask.

For a while, no one dares to speak another word, and you wonder if what you have here is an argument. For a good few seconds, she stares at you intently as silence hangs heavy in the air.

“You think,” she says defeatedly between sniffles, “that I'm Little Miss Perfect, right? Like everyone calls me ‘the straight-A girl?’ Well I’m not, and I’m tired of everyone saying so.” She fishes out a very used handkerchief from her pocket and wipes her eyes of tears, only for them to be replaced by more.

“It can’t be that bad, Nayeon. People look up to you, I’m sure.” You finally notice your alarms are blaring and you’re put on high alert. What you just said was the exact wrong thing to say, and you’re at critical risk of involving yourself in her messy situation more than you should.

She side-eyes you, calculating if you’re being sincere or not. She stuffs her handkerchief back into her pocket carelessly as if knowing that she’ll only pull it back out again soon. She looks down at her hands, deep in thought, looking like she’s trying to grapple with something she might regret.

Once she’s done, she fumbles around in her backpack. She fishes out a tiny black notebook she seems to keep so well hidden, on the cover of the notebook the words ‘Nana’s Bucket List’ are scrawled in big, bold, immature-looking letters.

“Throughout all of my life, I always wanted to be the top student, the best of the best like no one ever was, and I succeeded, you know…” she scoffs. “Top marks in Elementary, Middle school, and Valedictorian in high school.” She sighs and tries to fight back more tears, though you notice she’s a bit more successful this time, with a bit of hope and yearning in her eyes.

"But on the other side… The other side seems so great. I mean, I see all these movies and books about college life," she says in between residual sobs and hiccups. She opens the notebook, showing you a not-so-long list, and even though it's hard to see the text from the small size of the writing, you can make out a little bit of what’s written on the paper.

Cheat on a test

Get drunk

Party all night

Dye my hair

Sing in an Open stage show

Sneak into a Public pool

Shoplifting

You know...

Most of what you read makes zero sense, and you’re half-convinced this girl is just crazy. You stare at the scribbled letters, hoping to draw more meaning from them, but Nayeon shuts the little notebook in your face and starts putting it back away.

"I want to do them all. Drinking, breaking glass bottles, partying, all that stuff," she explains dreamily. She zips up her bag and pats it down, making sure it’s secure beside her, and turns her attention back to you, “I want to live like a normal girl, you know what I mean?” she asks, you are not sure if its because of the tears, but her eyes seem to glitter.

"That's very cliche, Nana," you jab at her, making fun of the nickname she gave herself.

"That's all I know, though. Please." She takes your hand in between hers and looks up at you, teary-eyed and seemingly begging for her life.”This wouldn’t kill you, all I’m asking for is some help crossing stuff off of the list.”

You hate how well it works on you: her big, round eyes, her adorable little pout, her cute pleading voice. It goes against everything you know, and even now you’re sure you don’t want to get involved in whatever this would turn out to be. And yet, despite even the most deeply ingrained lessons you’ve learned for yourself, all it takes is a brief moment for it to come crashing down.

With a disbelieving sigh and a sense of regret creeping in, you ask: “What’s in it for me?”

~-~-~-~

You take a bite of your burger and breathe out. Cheap bun, dubious patty, artificial cheese, it all takes you back to a past life. You're left to momentarily wonder how you ended up where you are now, and slowly it comes back to you. You messed up.

"So, about the list." Nayeon sets down her cup, ice cubes clinking against each other as they swirl around her soda. "I already did one. So that’s one less thing for us to do”.

"I can do that much math, Nayeon. What do you take me for?" You chomp down on a few fries grumpily.

"I didn't mean it like that. All I'm saying is there are just a few more months left until graduation, so we'll need to be quick. We can’t be lazy about this." She pulls out the little black notebook and flips to an unfamiliar page. The words "cheat on a test" has doodles of a devil's horns and wings and tail around it, with lots of eyes and ears decorating the rest of the ruled paper. Above it, the poster you recognize from the movie "Bad Genius" is copied, albeit crudely, in a thought bubble.

"I did this one last year, don't ask. Anyway, this next one should be easy enough." She flips to the next page, showing a couple pictures of beer cups and wine bottles, surrounding the words “Get Drunk.”

“Wait, is this the ‘incident’ people hate you for? What even happened there?” You eat more of your fries, trying to hide your curiosity. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work and she nips the conversation in the bud.

“That’s not anything you need to know. What matters is now and the future. Now are you with me or not?” She snaps the notebook closed and yanks it away from your sight, back into the pocket she keeps it in.

“I can’t help if I don’t know what exactly your deal is,” you say disappointedly. You pick up your own drink and take a sip, and the cool soda washes over your tongue and throat on the way down. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be with everything that’s going on.”

For a moment, you catch Nayeon’s gaze on you, dumbfounded. You could almost hear the gears in her head turning as she tries to process your logic, but it takes a while. As she thinks, though, you take a particular interest in how she handles it: her mouth is hanging slightly ajar and her eyes are only half-focused on wherever they’re pointed. You notice how delicately her bangs fall on her forehead, how her eyebrows furrow and crease, how she tries finding the right words yet can’t find the message she wants to send. Odd things to notice, surely, and yet here you are. You messed up.

It starts coming back to you. The jeers from your classmates as you walk down the hall grow louder in your ears, and you fight against your hands trying to cover them with the knowledge that none of it is real anymore. The tears you fight back all the time surface for another rematch, but with your current state, you may be at a disadvantage.

Fortunately, she shocks you back into reality. “Hey, are you listening? I’m feeding you, so the least you could do is pay attention.” She bites a small chunk of her burger and chews, and you notice how her cheeks puff slightly and the corner of her mouth is decorated with a dollop of mustard.

Cute.

1 + 2. Get drunk + Party All Night

“God, this is stupid,” you think to yourself, exiting the convenience store. With a plastic bag in your right hand and your phone in your left hand, checking the time and the address Nayeon sent you earlier today. Finding it was easier than you expected, and you tried not to let the walk to her dorm set any expectations for you.

You bring your knuckles to the wooden door and make three quick raps. It swings open very quickly and you’re dragged into the cozy space without even the slightest chance to take off your shoes.

“You took forever! Did you bring the stuff?” She looks all over you and pats you down, looking for what you brought her.

“Get off, will you? I put them all in my bag like a normal person.” You swing your backpack off your shoulder and carefully place it onto a nearby table. Nayeon takes a seat and waits excitedly for what you brought for the two of you. From your bag, you produce three bottles of soju, three five-packs of Yakult, six cans of beer, and four bags of chips. She eyes each item with absolute interest as they leave your backpack, and she hardly contains herself once you finish and zip up your bag once more.

“Okay, so how does this work?” Her eyes sparkle with wonder, and while waiting for your instructions, it was clear that as much as she was excited, she was also inexperienced.

“First off, get us some shot glasses and a pitcher. Oh, and a can opener.” Nayeon bolts off to the cooking area, and you can hear drawers opening and shutting loudly. You start getting concerned when you hear plates start to clatter against each other, but thankfully it dies down quickly and she returns with two small glasses, a decently sized pitcher, and a can opener.

“Shit. I meant bottle. Bottle opener.” Without even a hint of annoyance, she rushes back off into the kitchen and, after a few more rummaging sounds, she returns with the correct item. She really must not know what she’s doing.

“Come on, show me!” She shoves the bottle opener into your hand, and you’re left with no choice.

“Don’t you have a roommate we have to worry about?” You pop the cap off one of the soju bottles and then tear the aluminum top off two bottles of Yakult. “She’s out with her own friends. Hurry!” Despite her starting to get on your nerves, you pour all three into the pitcher and swirl them around together. Once you’re done, you pour the mixture into each of the glasses until they’re full.

“Bottoms up, Nayeon.”

“Bottoms up!”

The both of you down your drinks: yours slowly crawls down your throat, but hers disappears straight into her stomach. She reels at the burning lines left by the alcohol all over her esophagus and takes a bit of time to recover.

“Whoa, that was,” she says, and a burp erupts from her mouth, “intense.” She sways a little bit to the left before righting herself, and then overcompensates to lean to the left again.

“Easy there, champ. We’ve got two more bottles to go through.” You pour another shot for each of you, hers first and then yours, and raise your glass once more.

“Open the chips now,” you tell her. “This’ll be less dreadful with food.”

Both of you down your shots at the same time, and Nayeon reels at the sensation once more.

“Does that get easier?” Her speech is slowly starting to slur, the poor thing. “I’m kinda feeling a little something right now, too…”

“Yes, but only if you keep going at it, idiot. Don’t down everything so quickly.” Grab one of the bags of chips yourself, open and present it to Nayeon on the center of the table.

“Eat. You’ll hate this less.” You take a handful of chips and bring all of them into your mouth. Once you do, you raise your eyebrow at her to tell her to do the same.

“Isn’t… *hic* being hungry the thing for… faster drunk?”

“Apparently so, Nayeon. I don’t even know what I expected from you.” You take another shot, alone this time. She tries to pour her own shot, but fails miserably at getting the liquid anywhere near the inside of her shot glass. It’s adorable how she tries, though.

You pour her another shot despite a small voice telling you maybe she isn’t cut out for this much in such a short time. You shove the voice aside in favor of Nayeon’s own words: “We pregame, drink a little, and then we go. Party starts at 7:30, so we leave here by 7 o’clock.” Her shot glass fills with the drink, and you place it in front of her, making sure at least to keep an eye out for what might happen next.

She successfully picks up the glass and, sans the spills she made on the glass's way from the table to her mouth, drinks everything she could. She slams the glass onto the table in no light movement and you have a slight inkling of regret at letting her do that to herself.

“You… We have to… Fuck.” Nayeon’s head droops and she catches her face with her hands. She may have underestimated how strong soju is, or maybe what being drunk actually does to a person. A groan emanates from behind her palms, and you notice she’s having trouble holding herself up.

“Aren’t we going out after this? You might wanna slow down, idiot.” You pour yourself another shot and drink it leisurely. Nayeon tries leaning back onto the chair, and she finally pries her hands away from her eyes. She does a few quick blinks, and she tries to focus her sight on you. Her head sways a little bit, and it dawns on you that you may have overestimated her.

“I’m okay… just… we have to go.” She tries to stand up, but she wobbles dangerously and you have to catch her. Dive under her and take on her weight, thankfully not too heavy, and keep her from hitting the floor. She mumbles a bit about something you can only kind of understand, but it's enough to guide your next decision.

“Forget it,” you grunt as you plop her back into her chair, “we're not going anywhere.” An exasperated sigh leaves your lungs, and you head off to the kitchen to return with a large bottle of cold water.

“No… we have to go. We'll be late.” Nayeon tries to get up again, but there's no strength left in her body. She sits motionlessly, probably thinking that she's already stood up, and it gives way to a confused look on her face as to why she's still in the same place.

You fill a proper-sized glass with water and hand it to her, which she drinks obediently. You fill her palm with potato chips which she also eats without objection. The way her jaw moves, clumsy and slow, signals a threat that she might just fall over any minute.

You move your chair to her side and sit there, allowing Nayeon to lean her head on you. Her hair covers her reddening face, and her hiccups arrive in growing force.

“If you're still in there, Nayeon,” you say quietly, “we're not going out. I can't look after you this closely at a party.” All she does to respond is nod. Her hiccups are punctuated intermittently with sniffles, which you take as a sign that she knows she has no power left to object.

Still, you feel bad for her as her plans fall through. Despite the responsible thing to do, put her to bed and leave, you kick yourself mentally before deciding to stay anyway.

“Movies and snacks?”

~-~-~-~

Before you know it, the night goes by just as quick. You go through the list of movies she’d always wanted to watch: The Truman Show, The Great Gatsby, Mean Girls, and even then there’s still a few left on her list. You could tell she was watching properly halfway through the first, and that was the telltale sign that she’d sobered up.

You drink a bit more with her in between movies, and she would frequently pause to get up and put on a song to dance to. “It keeps me awake,” she said, “I can’t fall asleep before the good part happens.” The songs she put on are generic pop and the kinds you skip whenever they come up, but you let it pass for tonight.

At some point, she pulls out an old Wii and challenges you to Mario Kart. “I am undefeated in this game. I’m not even that good, everyone else that challenged me just sucked.” You take her up on her offer, and the match begins. You try and almost get ahead of her in a few of the turns, but she would always take back her lead at the slightest opportunity of you hitting a wall or missing an item. And the way she glows with pride every single time she crosses the finish line before you do, the sudden brightness that fills her face when she wins race after race, the confidence it gives her that she isn’t actually the worst person in the world, all of it is a sight to behold. People may see Kwon Nayeon as an arrogant goody-two-shoes traitor, but the way you see her now is different: just someone with a past to outgrow.

Right as the last movie’s credits start rolling, mischievous thin rays of dawn sunlight slip past the tiny gaps in the curtains. Both you and Nayeon have little energy left for anything else, and you maybe think it’s time to call it a night and go home.

“Let me walk you out,” she says while trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes for a little bit longer. You both get up and walk to the door, and as it opens your faces are flooded with a world right before it wakes. Dewdrops sit respectfully on leaves and blades of grass, birds are only starting to stretch their wings, and the crisp morning air fills your lungs with a calm grace.

You turn back to Nayeon, who you find is still admiring the dawn, and grasp her elbow. “Sit with me.”

You both squat down and take your seats again on her doorstep. Clouds roll in and dot the sky, wandering on the blank canvas of today, eagerly waiting for sunlight to block out. The sun peeks over the horizon and the first proper rays start to arrive, spreading warmth where they land. Nayeon meets your eyes one last time, and the pair of you find a sleepy and still a bit drunk person when you look at each other.

“Well,” you say as if it was a farewell, “good night, Nayeon. And good morning.”

“Good night,” she giggles back, “and good morning to you too.”

3. Sneak into a Public Pool

“Are you sure about this?” Nana’s tone is subdued by fear. Her voice shakes and struggles to be as quiet as possible, but at the same time you get the feeling that if you didn’t need to be quiet, she’d be yelling right now and trying to get the both of you to leave.

“Can you please shut up? I’m trying to focus!” You find the first of the pins and push it out of the way. For a moment, you lament how restricted you are: this could have been such a simple lock to break, replace even, but the girl dragging you around was deathly insistent on leaving as little damage and evidence as possible.

“You shut up! I'm whispering here!” Anger rises in her voice, and you almost feel anger in yours too. You're able to stop it though, and you remind yourself that if ever a guard was on watch that actually cared about this place, they'd be easily outrun.

The lock presents more of a challenge than you thought; despite the agonizingly simple solution of snapping its shackle, its inner mechanisms are harder to crack for whatever reason. Taking it pin by pin is supposed to be an easy task, but the warm and humid air and the incessant nagging seem to debilitate you. It’s such a nice night out for a swim, why make this any harder than it needs to be?

After what seemed like eternity you finally manage to pick the lock, sighing in relief as the both of you head forward quietly, but cautiously looking side to side just in case. The metal-grate door swings open slowly, avoiding any creaking sounds it may make otherwise, and the both of you enter the pool area.

“I gotta say Nayeon, this went better than I thought it would,” you say, both of you looking at the rectangular box of water which unlike during the day, was completely still, no waves, no splashes, just the water. It glistened and reflected all manner of light: the pool lights above and below the water, the yellow street lamps far off on the sidewalk, and the moon overhead, singing tones of wonder and mystery to those touched by its borrowed glow.

Off to the side, you find Nayeon fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Her head whips round incessantly as she tries to keep a lookout of the surroundings rather poorly. Sigh a deep one, and finally go over and take your seat next to her.

“Thanks… gimme a sec.” She finally grabs the hem decisively. The fabric crumples a bit under her grip and folds as it's pulled up.

You can’t help but watch as the shirt starts to leave her body, revealing a slim and toned tummy underneath. Your breath hitches as it crawls higher, reaching her face and obscuring her sight, and she inadvertently shows off a dark purple sports bra that’s… a size too small. Your gaze lingers on her cleavage and the flesh of her boobs lightly spilling out of the garment.

Nana turns around and you’re treated with the view of a beautiful back and shoulders to die for. The way her body twists and turns in the slightest ways to negotiate the shirt off of her form is the most sensual dance you’ve ever seen.

And you realize you’re staring. Fortunately for you, she doesn’t seem to notice, and she continues on to fold the shirt properly before setting it next to her sports bag. You opt not to risk staring any longer, and you decide to get rid of your own shirt. You strip quickly, and your shirt flies off approximately near Nayeon’s things in a messy pile by itself.

Sit on the edge of the pool, dip your feet into the water. There’s absolutely no reason for it to be this warm, you think, but whatever the case may be, it feels like a tea that’s just about to go cold. This, coupled with the humid air and quiet atmosphere, makes for a perfect night to spend on whatever this is with her.

She joins you and takes her seat at the edge of the pool, and in every other situation, you’d ask her to back off a bit. Instead, as she lays her head on your shoulder and takes your hand in between hers, you lose your steel in the most important of times.

“I’m scared.” Her eyes never leave the water, taking in the light dancing on its surface. Her face is fraught with worry, and while you know it’s for no good reason, you nevertheless try to reassure her.

“Yeah, someone might jump out of the bushes and arrest us for swimming in a swimming pool,” you say mockingly. “They’re gonna take us to court on the charges of ‘using something the way it was meant to be used’ and we’re gonna get life sentences. When we’re all old and wrinkly they’re gonna sit us in the electric chair.”

“Okay, I get your point. But still, though, I’m scared.” She grips your hand tighter, and for some reason you can’t resist her. Place your other hand over hers and try to calm her down. Nana takes a deep breath with her eyes closed, and finally looks at you with a reserved grin.

“Alright, I’m good. Let’s go.”

You feel her hand on your back, and warmth spreads from her palm. Her smile grows just a bit wider and her eyes follow suit. Her teeth show themselves from between her lips, and you’re almost tempted to dive right in.

Lucky for you, she helps. The hand on her back suddenly applies more pressure, pushing you to the pool and causing a splash going all directions. Collect your thoughts and raise your head above the water to see Nana, face full of laughter, right before she dives in the water with you.

It takes a second, but her head resurfaces and you find yourself relieved. She catches her breath once more, and before you know it, you're met with a faceful of chlorinated water. “What are you staring at?” She says between hearty laughs.

Wipe the water from your face, find the humor. Laugh with her, and face her properly.

Another shade of Kwon Nayeon. Granted, it's one with no makeup and way less clothes than usual, but none of that takes away from her natural, elegant beauty. It's captivating, the way her figure glides around the water, the way the cool night air wisps around the pair of you, the way the moon throws its rays around the world, your world, so haphazardly.

Another faceful of water, and you snap out of your daze. “Creepy ass,” she snorts happily. She splashes you again, and this time you fight back.

“Race you around the pool.” You start paddling, and the water grows loud against your ears. She says something back to you and starts paddling herself to catch up.

“Yeah,” you think to yourself, “whatever this is with her.”

4. Sing in an Open Mic

“Another night, another goal,” you muse, sitting in your car with Nayeon in the passenger seat. It has become quite a routine that every time she wants to do something on her bucket list she asks you to pick her up. You don’t mind too much — she pays for gas after all.

“Where do we go this time?” Nayeon just shoves her phone in your face, showing a map with directions to some bar out of town. She looks at you expectantly, but without any more information than what you’re currently getting, you’re at a loss for what she’s trying to make you see.

“A club.”

“Exactly.”

“We already did ‘get drunk.’”

“I know. This is different.”

“How so?”

“Take me here. Make me sing. Take me home.”

The pieces connect in her head and she pulls out the notebook again. She flips to a page you again haven’t seen, and when she shows it to you you’re treated to the sight of “Open Mic Stage” in graffiti-style letters and the poster of “Wedding Singer” scrawled in the bottom right corner of the page.

“If you have the map, why not just do this yourself? You didn’t need to wait for me. If anything, I’d only laugh at how bad you might be.” You push away her phone and notebook, choosing to return your attention to the sidewalk instead. The boba tea place you keep hearing about is nearby.

“That’s the thing,” Nayeon interjects again, “I have been there before. I listened to all the people singing, and they’re… some are good. I don’t know if I am, but I got shy at the last minute and I never even got near the stage.” She grabs your sleeve and your attention. “I need you to make me sing. Don’t let me chicken out.”

You shrug, “Sure, let's do it.”

~-~-~-~

Taking up two seats at the bar, you try and seem to fail at helping Nayeon calm down. Her guitar rests against the bartop beside her while she fans herself hurriedly with her hand. “It’s so nerve-racking… I knew this was a mistake,” she adds before turning back and trying to leave the place, however, you stop her in her tracks

“Come on, you worked so hard for this,” you say, recalling the number of recordings she sent you: one for each take she was doing. “You can do this,” you continue reassuring her, knowing she’s more ready than ever. At the same time, you could see your friend get more nervous by the second, now taking more sips of her water bottle.

“But what if I miss a chord, or I sing badly? Everyone will laugh at my mist–'' You know at this point she’ll only spiral to worse and worse thoughts, so you nip it in the bud and stop her right there. You take both her shoulders in your hands, making Nayeon stop her nervous rambling, and her cheeks turn a shade of pink.

“I believe in you, Nana. just take a deep breath.” You stop to let her do as you say, taking a deep breath in and slowly breathing it out. The tension leaves her with each breath she takes, and you find a moment to keep her stable. “Good, I am sitting right here, not leaving for any reason, so if you feel nervous, just find me. Look at me.” Her gaze softens at your promise, and her lips form a tiny smile in response to your words.

Hearing the current open mic singer finishing up his song, you send her off with some final words. “Your turn now, Nana. Break a fucking leg.” You leave her shoulders as her smile slowly starts to grow.

You watch her heading toward the stage, taking her guitar out of the cover, and taking her seat on the chair in front of the mic. “Hey,” she starts, “I am Nayeon… and I’m gonna sing Spring Day by BTS… I, uhh, hope you enjoy.”

She takes one last deep breath as you find her gaze on you. You return a reassuring smile, and Nayeon’s eyes fly back to her guitar. She strums her first chord, and the crowd’s welcoming applause rises.

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“I’m missing you, when I say that I miss you more, I’m missing you…” Nayeon’s fingers strum the strings delicately, and it enchants you how graceful and in control she is of her instrument. The wood and metal of her guitar work together under her guidance to produce a beautiful sound, one you feel deep inside you'd never have heard the beauty of if not here, not now.

The way her lips move to articulate her words is heavenly, like she has you under a benevolent spell to bring you a rare sort of peace. It captivates you how she carries herself; behind her tough outer shell is a scared and confused layer, which hides a soft and optimistic core and wants to chase a brighter, happier future by cherishing the present. You marvel at your luck, that you were permitted to see so much of her, and how openly she welcomed you in when all she knew was aloneness and to shut people out.

“Snowflakes falling from the sky, are drifting further by and by…” Her heavenly voice draws you in, and it commands your attention like it speaks directly to your soul. The sound of Nayeon tugs on your heartstrings, pulling you closer to its source, and you let yourself get whisked away.

And to its source you look; find a girl with courage like you’d never seen. See Kwon Nayeon in a different light than the harsh monotones of the classroom fluorescents, but in a spotlight that she takes up with everything in her soul. It’s a different shade of her: a shade of Nayeon that only you could comprehend, a part of her that only you had the privilege to understand.

“I breathe you out there somewhere, like smoke in the air…” The space grows warmer, like a hearth welcoming you home. Your surroundings quiet down as Nayeon pulls them deeper and deeper with her subconscious command: rest, lay down your worries and fly for the moment towards your peace. You look around, and every fellow face in the crowd you see has their eyes fixed on Nayeon’s performance; they’d never know it, but it’s the debut of a person coming into a whole new life free of regret and cowardice. It’s Nayeon building herself up from the rubble of a past that she aims to forget.

“Flowers blooming towards the sky, has winter finally passed by?” The noise of the world seems to die down, as if just you and Nayeon are the only two things in existence. The pace of her strumming slows, as do the lyrics that escape her mouth. Every note she produces is deliberate, gentle, comforting, and for once you feel like you’re able to imagine a brighter tomorrow like her.

With her.

The song draws to a close, and she looks all over the crowd as they start to clap. You can't help but join in. Nayeon just bows lightly, and you can feel how happy she is that everything went well in her song. As she steps off the stage, you leave your spot and head toward her.

With both of you only a couple of steps apart, you chuckle lightly, “Well it wasn't so bad was—” You were stopped, caught off guard by your friend, dashing to you with open arms and crashing into your chest, wrapping her arms around you, and pulling you into an embrace.

No words are spoken; both of you just stand there, hugging each other, her face nuzzling your chest as you could faintly feel her heartbeat. You were quite surprised with Nayeon being so open with you, since it was just a short time ago you made your promise to help.

“Thank you…” she says, now releasing you from her embrace, noticing how her eyes shed small tears, that you couldn't figure out if they are tears of sadness, or happiness.

“... Always here for you Nayeon.”

“Please… call me Nana,” she says. She takes her notebook and crosses off another line from her bucket list, and as she walks toward the exit, you make way for the people coming by to greet her for the performance.

You can't help but wonder… has something changed after that performance?

5. Shoplifting

“Pick something already, it's not that hard,'' you remark impatiently while tapping your feet. Both of you are staring at the snack section of the local convenience store near your college, and Nana hovers her hand over the selection of snacks to look for the perfect one.

“Stop rushing me, I'm trying to choose which one will not get me caught,” she replies, still focused. The veteran petty thief in you groans, recalling your highschool days where nicking a cigarette or two (or ten) every once in a while gave you back huge chunks of your monthly budget. You miss the simplicity of it, and you once again find the restriction of being so careful more annoying than anything else. How come for Nayeon it is such a big struggle to steal one snack? You shoot the question up to whichever god might be listening, and you even half-expect an answer back.

“You are thinking about it too much, the cashier is probably not gonna notice even if you stole something that made noise,” you add, tapping your foot rapidly, like you were some parent spending too long in the toy section.

“Well, please forgive me, oh thug master, it’s my fault that I never did that shit before!” Her whispers are loud enough for you to hear clearly, your less-than-welcoming attitude leading her to take a deep sigh.

“Fine, if you want to make it easier, do the buy one steal one method,” you explain.

“The what?”

“Well to make it simpler than it already is, you dolt, you take two things, one you buy normally, and the other one you don't pay for,” you added as it seems to all make sense in Nayeon’s head. “Defeats the fucking purpose why we’re here, but really, the longer we spend here to leave with just four things, the more anyone will suspect us.”

Despite your best efforts to hurry her, they all seem to only make her take even longer. Her brow furrows deeper, as if trying to form lasers in her eyes to burn holes through the plastic wrappers.

Your patience wears thinner by the moment, and you resolve to isolate before you lose it completely. “So if you’ll excuse me, I will get my shit and meet you outside,” you say, leaving her alone in the aisle.

As a promise to yourself not to shoplift anymore, you decide to buy just one pack of cigarettes. You light one of them as you lean against one of the store’s walls, watching the sun start to set. Find yourself sitting down, admiring the beauty of a day near its end, taking in the world around you.

Two cigarettes and fifteen minutes later, a small ding sounds from somewhere in the front of the store. It’s Nayeon, half-running out of the building, her face painted with worry as she finds and walks towards you.

“So, you did it?” A smile forms on Nayeon’s face as she takes her right hand to her jean’s pocket, revealing a small candy bar. She brandishes the candy around like a magic wand, as if trying to charm you into being proud of her.

“Well… it's something,” you nod, while the two of you start towards her dormitory.

“Oh don’t say ‘it’s something’ when you didn't steal anything,” she exclaims. She holds the candy bar up against the setting sun, examining its entire wrapper. Now that you’re a considerable distance from the store, the worry on her face has been replaced completely by pride and excitement.

“Well I don’t shoplift anymore, the only reason I'm letting you do it is because you wanted the experience, which by the way,” you scoff, plucking the snack out of her hands, “all of that was for a chocolate bar.” This earns you a pretty strong punch on the shoulder, and the force loosens your grip on the snack enough for Nayeon to steal it back.

“Shut up,” she says, her cheeks seeming to grow a small shade of pink. She walks faster, leaving you no choice but to speed up as well.

6. Dye my Hair

“Do you think blonde hair will suit me?” Nana asks, holding the color card next to her face. You come in for a closer look, but as you stare you stop and wonder why you even did so in the first place.

“Yeah… uhh yeah, I think it can suit you well.” You weren't an expert in hair styles and colors, so honestly unless it was a color that was actually hideous, everything was fair game.

Nana smiles at your response and picks out a box of blonde hair dye to add to her basket. You’re a bit nervous that she wants to dye it at home with you, but any attempts you made to convince her to see an actual stylist have been dismissed. “It’s easy,” she said, “there’s instructions on the box.”

“So, how was it?” You’re half-convinced that the bleach is eating through your rubber gloves, but you soldier on.

“Was what?” Nayeon checks herself out in the mini-vanity mirror in front of her. You have to swat her hands away from her head with your elbows, but apart from that she stays on her best behavior.

“You know,” you shrug, “this whole thing. The stealing, the swimming, the dyeing your hair.” You try to keep the bleach from dripping onto your arms, mostly aiming for the scattered sheets of newspaper the two of you prepared on the floor, but there’s only so much you can do. You just resolve to wash off any drops as quickly as possible.

You get the feeling that she hoped you wouldn’t notice, but you did. The smile on her face dimmed the slightest it could before she could fix it. “It was… great! Stuff I’ll remember for the rest of my life, for sure.”

Like some form of cosmic karma, she spots your involuntary grin in the mirror. “Good. That’s good.”

The color drains from her hair bit by bit as you apply the bleach carefully. You’re not sure how quickly you have to finish, but Nana seems not to mind. You gently stroke and rub the product through her hair, taking special care not to come into contact with her scalp too often, all the while she turns her head from side to side to admire the look she’s going to have soon.

“You know…” she says suddenly, avoiding your eyes in the mirror, “this was really fun. I’m so happy I got to do all that stuff on my list.” Her smile changes: what was once a cheerful and optimistic smile just a few moments ago is now a wizened and melancholic one. “I mean it. Thank you for helping me.”

She makes eye contact with you again in the mirror, and she flashes that smile to you once more. Her hair grows lighter with each passing second, and as her back relaxes and straightens, it seems that the weight of the world leaves her shoulders as well. She breathes more easily now, and despite the fumes the box says you should do your best not to inhale, you breathe easier too.

~-~-~-~

You’re sat back again on her sofa, and Nana tries her best not to mess with her hair that’s still soaking. She looks kind of silly, what with her old towel around her shoulders faded to near oblivion, her hair in sections making her look like a half-done scarecrow, her hands going up halfway to her head only to be forced back down by the other.

And yet, you admire another shade of Nayeon. This time, it’s a girl who’s scared of the future, of changes she might regret later on. It’s something deep in her character, even central maybe, to be afraid of things she can’t take back. Even then, she takes her leaps and bounds to try and outrun her past, and finally, you see the razor edge that keeps everything in balance: Nayeon’s fear which dictates her present, and Nana’s strength which leads her to her future.

“Hey,” you say abruptly, surprising even yourself, “you good?”

“I think so. My head’s itchy. Is that supposed to happen? Should we wash it off?”

“No, jackass, it’ll look even worse if you quit halfway.”

Your words set in and she realizes you’re right. Worry seeps into her face and you notice tears start to well up in her eyes.

“Look, this might not be comfy right now, but I promise it’ll be worth it later on.”

“Really? You promise it’ll look good?” She looks over to you with pleading, shiny eyes, and it almost hurts to tell her no.

“I said I promise it’ll be worth it. Not that it’ll look good.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

You chuckle at the sudden rise in her voice. After all this time, she’s still Nayeon, still Nana. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It means… if you stick with it, there’s no way you’ll regret what we just did.”

7. You know…

The end of your senior year of college rolls around, and the graduation ceremony is still fresh in everyone’s minds. Photos of friends together and square caps thrown into the air decorate your social media feeds for a good few days, and you can’t deny the whole thing was something you wouldn’t forget for the rest of your life.

And finally, Nana’s bucket list has been finished. To think that all of it was done in the span of a college year is quite impressive to say the least, as before you started she was lost in her own goals and left sitting for a good three years. Now, looking at your diploma, it was not only a sign of your successful studies at college, for you it was also the sign of helping your dear friend get to where she wanted to be.

Speaking of the devil, now sending you a message

On the way, you see various people from her dorm building heaving away bags and suitcases, undoubtedly taking advantage of the nice weather to move out. You see people hugging each other, taking selfies, exchanging numbers, and all the while you think of each of them with their own stories to tell when they get home, but none so interesting as the one you and Nana built together.

The walk up the stairs was more of the same, people saying goodbye, and you can’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia. It was by no means a short year, but for everything you did, the feeling of wanting just a bit more time never seems to leave you. You recall the first time you saw her, that quiet girl in the front of the auditorium with four seats of clearance around her, and how you slowly watched her grow into the fine and confident woman she is now. Part of you is unbelievably proud of what she’s achieved, but another part of you knows it’s all her doing and you were only along for the ride.

You reach Nana’s room just as her roommate was leaving, and you exchange pleasantries with her before she goes off. “Hey, just so you know, Nayeon’s a really nice girl,” she says in whispers to you, “I’m glad she found you before she left.” She pats you on the back before going off to the stairs herself. Something deep inside you glows in agreement, and you think to yourself how lucky you were to be able to meet and spend time with a person like her.

“Hey, come in!” Nana pushes you into her now half-empty room. “Yuri just left, so we have the place all to ourselves!” You take a seat on her easy chair while she plops herself down onto her bed. The half that still has stuff in it is simple and unassuming, and the realization dawns on you that this is the first time you’ve been in Nana’s room. Despite this, the space is warm and cozy, like it was filled with a good sort of energy for a long time.

“Cheers” you both say at the same time, each with a can of beer that you both drink fairly quickly. You recall the first time of her drinking with you, how easily she felt her stomach hurting but this time she quickly shrugs off the bitter taste.

“You know,” Nana says, her eyes shining and her smile flashing itself directly at you, “I am really happy that you helped me with the bucket list, I couldn't do it without you.”

You simply laugh casually and say “Come on Nana, all you needed was confidence.”

“And who do you think gave me that confidence? I really mean it…thank you,” she says, and you can't help but smile at her back.

“Let me get some snacks, okay? Don’t move a muscle.” As she stands and heads toward the kitchen, you go to check up your phone to see what the time is. However, just as you are about to go into your Instagram, you notice something on the table: a little black notebook that’s only all too familiar.

When you think about it, She has never shown you the actual list besides that one time when you two first talked. “A peek won't hurt right?” you say, the alcohol definitely makes the choice for you. Your sober self would never invade someone's privacy, especially not some as close as Nana’s, but regardless, you open it and…

You flip through the pages, and the notebook reveals so much more. The few pages you’ve been shown were just decorated pages, and each mission was a chapter, filled with dozens of writings, pictures, scribbles, each for its own topic. You find yourself smiling, muttering quietly to yourself: “You really worked hard on it… didn't you?”

Your attention is snatched to Nana across the room, looking at you with cheeks fully red. You can't help but curse quietly, and you try to come up with something of an apology. However before you can finish your first word she says…

“Hey, come on, put that down!” Nana rushes toward you, nearly tossing the snacks off to some random part of the room, and snatches away the little black notebook from your hands. She hugs it close to her chest as she turns away, and she looks over her shoulder to peek if you might still be thinking about snatching the notebook back.

Instead, you raise your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Sorry. But what's there to hide? Aren't we done?” You take another sip of your drink before picking up one of the snacks. You open the bag of chips and place it on the table for the both of you.

“Well… I had one other thing. I gave up on it a long time ago, just never ripped out the page.” Nana turns back toward you and fiddles with a leaf of the notebook. Her steps are careful when she gets nearer to you, as if cautious to scare you away.

“What?!” You bolt to your feet in surprise, your drunkenness taking a backseat at the sudden exposition. “Shit, we gotta go now! What is it?”

“Calm down,” Nana mutters, her feet rubbing against the carpet, “it isn't something we can do anywhere else anyway. Or, I mean, it’s done? I don’t know…”

Your nerves are still flaring, but you get the feeling that whatever it is, there's nowhere else but where you are now that Nana could do the last bucket list thing. Your gaze steadies on her, and she looks like she wouldn't budge for the world. Her eyes never leave the floor, her hands stay guarded on the notebook, and for some reason, she's also able to keep you just where you are.

“So… what is it, then?”

“Promise me you won't get mad?”

“... Promise.”

Once she hears you say it, her eyes shut tight. As if gathering courage, she takes a deep breath before taking deliberate steps to where you're standing. You never see it coming, but the next thing you know, Nana's soft lips are on yours, her delicate fingers keep you steady in place, and her vanilla scent fills your nose and overwhelms your senses that you can't think of anything at all but her.

It takes only half a second, but you melt into the kiss yourself. Your eyes flutter closed and start to forget the world around you in favor of the girl who stayed by your side. The space between the two of you grows smaller, your hands make their way to her waist, and you let your selfishness take over and keep her for yourself as well.

The kiss breaks just as you hold her, and both your eyes shoot open to find hers just as wide as yours.

“I-I, umm… I’m sorry, it was too sudden, and uhh…” It wasn't too hard to see how much she was stuttering, and if you weren't so surprised yourself you would've also joined her like the blushing mess she is right now.

The alcohol was starting to hit you again, and your better judgment slowly left you as you took her lips once more. You have no time to be surprised at how willing she is, and you resolve to just enjoy the kiss with her. You lead her to the edge of the bed and sit her down; and the first chance she gets, she lies back onto the mattress and pulls you with her.

“If you really wanna know…” She flips to the last page of the notebook and shows you. It’s a simple picture, just two stick figures in a heart, holding hands. You don’t recognize the poster, but the quote is unmistakable: “You should be kissed, and often, by someone who knows how.”

“I’m glad we got to spend all this time together, and I know I keep thanking you, but I really am so happy…” Nana pulls you back in, and with your own sweet defiance, you trace kisses across her cheek and onto her neck. The whimpers that escape her are adorable, but at the same time they also confirm thoughts you’ve only ever tried to suppress: she likes you too.

You go lower and lower, tracing kisses from her neck to nibbling her collarbone, and you settle right before you reach her chest. Her breath hitches when she figures out what you want to do, but ultimately her fingers rake comfortingly through your hair.

“So tonight… let me show you… let me thank you… properly.” Her eyes may look pure when she says those words, but with how you are inches away from her lips, with how you have been kissing her now, it's anything but.

She slowly pulls off her jacket, her eyes never leaving you. The fabric slides off of her arms, revealing the smooth skin of her slender arms. The next to go is her tank top; her fingers grip the hem lightly, tugging slowly upwards, showing you her toned tummy and milky skin. The hem rises higher and higher, until she stops right under her chest.

“Are you sure?” Your question is breathless, not in the slightest bit annoyed, but your tone full of concern reaches her. “You don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know,” she says, the sound of her voice betraying a dry throat, “I love you.” She pulls the rest of her top off, and her boobs bounce freely in front of you. Nana takes your hands and places them on each, and asks you playfully, “Come on, you think I never caught you staring?”

She pulls you back in for a kiss, a proper one this time, the kind that quenches your thirst for her. She tries her best to wrap her tongue around yours, all the while you take your fill of her soft tits. Pinch and tweak her nipples, feel them stiffen as her tiny whimpers grow into careless moans. You never let up, delivering constant pleasure to her chest, and your surprise when you feel her palming your growing bulge is quickly replaced with anticipation.

Her hand slips under your waistband and her moan fills your mouth when she feels how hot and hard your cock is for her. She wraps her fingers around your shaft and gives long, slow strokes, nothing that would make you cum on the spot, but just about enough to make you leak precum onto her palm. She relishes the feeling of your arousal on her skin, and as she picks up her pace, seemingly trying to entice you to do more, you’re left with no choice but to give her exactly what she wants.

You work on unzipping your jeans and taking them off, and with Nana’s help, it feels like the second easiest job in the world. They fall to your ankles and you kick them away, and all of a sudden your cock rests on the skin of her luscious thigh. The heat and the precum that leaks onto her flesh surprises her, but her senses come back to her and she asks for a time out.

“Gimme a sec, I have to breathe,” she gasps unsteadily. You get off her, wondering what you might have done wrong. Her breathing is ragged and she seems to not be able to focus on much else, but a reassuring look in her eyes lets you know she’s alright.

“I just– I needed to see it.” Her gaze falls on your cock, and once she reaches and wraps her fingers around your shaft again, it throbs in her hand. A groan of pleasure escapes you, and she figures out that she’s doing something right. Her pumps start slow, gradually building up speed, all the while she brings her face closer and closer, and you don’t even notice it, but finally her lips meet the tip of your dick. Nana rubs your precum all over her lips like lipstick, and she takes your head in her mouth.

Small groans come from your mouth feeling her soft lips, you enjoy much more than you thought, especially knowing how inexperienced you thought she was. Your hands meanwhile grab a part of hair, pulling it lightly, causing Nana to moan into your cock.

“Don't get mad if I do this wrong–” she says, her eyes fraught with worry. Despite this, she makes careful moves to give you the best possible experience. She seals her lips around your head, and she gives slow but deep sucks as she tries her hardest.

“You’re– nngh– doing great,” you moan, the pleasure overtaking you. The eye contact you two share is enchanting; she’s undoubtedly a very pretty girl, and despite the amateur blowjob, she more than makes up for it with her enthusiasm. Her head bobs slightly, trying to take more of your length in, but her worry of choking keeps her from giving any more.

On the other hand, she has no idea of the effect she has on you, and the sight of the gorgeous woman’s plump lips on your cock coupled with her eager attempts at making you feel good nearly sends you over the edge early. In an effort to stave off your orgasm for even just a little while longer, you regrettably pull her off of you.

“What– what’s wrong? Wasn’t it good?” Again her words are coated with worry of disappointing you, but the way you look tenderly to her reassures her.

“You are perfect, Nana,” you whisper into her ear. You lay her back onto the bed gently, and you let show your eagerness to please her too. You venture down until you’re level with her crotch, and you work slowly to peel off her thin shorts. As they leave her legs, you’re presented with a pastel blue pair of panties, though you can’t help but notice the growing wet spot right in the center and the scent of her arousal seeping through. It must be uncomfy, you think, and you strip it off of her as well.

The garment leaves her and you look to Nana for approval: her finger between her teeth and her face red as a tomato, she looks at you with a loving gaze. Only then do you realize that Nana is now fully naked, everything bare for you and you alone, and the way her thighs rub together needily sends the message you’ve been dying to get.

Part her legs, meeting little resistance as you do. Travel up from her knees to her thighs, planting kisses and light nibbles on the soft flesh of her legs. Hearing how she whimpers beneath your lips: “That feels really good… I want more…”

Your lips finally meet her pussy, and the initial contact draws out a sultry moan from her. Each swipe of your tongue on her cunt causes more and more of her love juices to leak out, sending waves of ecstasy up her spine. She tries locking your head in place as she runs her fingers through your hair, all the while she grinds her crotch on your face as she chases her pleasure.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, you feel so good! I love you~!” Nana humps your face more and more roughly, and you take it as a sign that she’s close. Good thing as well, as you’re running out of air, but on the other hand you feel as though this wouldn't be the worst way to go. You run your tongue over her soaked pussy, taking slow, deep licks.

She’s inching closer to her orgasm, her hips are bucking onto your mouth, your tongue meets her clit, she squeezes your head between her thighs, your lips seal around her swollen nub, she grabs your hair and pulls hard, and with a scream ripping through her throat, Nana squirts her love juices straight into your waiting mouth as you drink her essence up. Her scream turns into a drawn-out moan as she continues to grind on your face, making sure to pleasure herself enough to give you everything you’ve been working so hard for, and you lap every single drop of it up like it was the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted.

She releases her grip on your hair and head, and as she relaxes onto the bed her arms fall to the sides and her legs spread open. She lazily brings a hand to her pussy and rubs it, showing you just how good you made her feel, and she smiles up at you.

“That was fucking amazing.” It couldn’t have sounded any sweeter, and the fact that it came from Nana, lying on her bed wearing nothing but a smile that you gave her, fills you with a sort of pride that you doubt you’d ever get again anywhere else in your life. But as she starts to get up, and she places her lips on yours, you feel another weight lifted off your chest. It’s another shade of her, one that shows you how she is when she’s content. It’s her way of telling you that among the hundreds of firsts she’s had in her life, she’s grateful that you were this one too. And as you kiss back, your hands finding their way to her hips, you connect with her again on a level that you never put into words before. “I love you too, Nana.”

Upon hearing, her kiss deepens and her tongue works harder to play with yours. She leans on you more, until finally you let yourself fall backwards, and Nana is right there, straddling you, with an innocent yet horny look in her eyes again.

“Your turn. Relax, okay?” She caresses your cheek, and suddenly you’re made conscious of how bad you’re probably blushing right now. Despite this, her smile never leaves her face as she continues to reassure you. She giggles at whatever expression it is that you’re showing her, and she gets to work.

Nana reaches to her bedside table and opens a drawer, and from it she produces a peculiar box. “Remember when I ‘stole’ that candy bar?” She tears off the sticker on the edge of the box to open it, pulls out a little plastic square pouch, and tears it open with her teeth. “I… bought… the candy bar. This was what I stole.” She tugs on the contents of the pouch, and reveals a condom.

“What the–” you start, but you soon stop in favor of moans caused by Nana’s handjob. “Don’t ever belittle me like that again, okay?” Her smile is again just as sweet and innocent as the first time you saw it, but now is completely different. It never leaves her face as she pulls the rubber over your cock, but not before giving it a few more cursory licks.

“Ready?” she asks, and you nod furiously. Finally, she aims the tip of your cock at her entrance and slowly sinks down onto you. “Oh, fuck, it’s so big,” she gasps. She takes her time taking in your length, feeling every vein against her pussy walls as you enter her tight pussy. She sucks air in through her teeth, her eyes shut tight, her fingernails leaving imprints on your chest as more and more of you slides into her unbelievably tight cunt. As she does, you feel her wet velvet walls rub your cock inside her, her slick spreading all over you and coating you with a warm you can’t describe. After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, she finally hilts, having taken everything inside her, and she sits on your crotch without moving, still trying to get used to the feeling of her pussy being so full.

“You good?” you ask, genuinely concerned if she’s okay or not. Place a hand on her waist, pat to comfort her. Her eyes open slowly, almost releasing a tear, and panic rises in your chest.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry, do you need to get off? I–” you start, but she shuts you up with another kiss. It’s slow and gentle as it starts, just simple pecks, as she reassures you once again that she’s alright. Once she pulls away, she flashes you another smile, and you swear she gets more and more beautiful with each and every one.

“I’m okay. Are you okay?” She traces circles on your cheek and neck, and all you could do is nod. She comes back in for another kiss, and this time it’s much deeper. She opens her mouth to moan, and you jump at the opportunity to swipe at her tongue too. She loves it, and once she’s comfy enough, she starts to hump against you as well.

“It’s really really good. Do you feel good?” Her question snaps you out of your daze, but you only nod as you fight off cumming too early. Not long after that, you note she’s had her fill as she pulls away from you. Her posture straightens and she sits on you properly again, this time determined to return the favor and blow your mind. She takes in a deep breath, braces herself, and lifts herself up carefully. Your breath hitches, watching her naked figure on top of you, and you admire the way her sweat collects in drops before they slide down between her breasts. She notices you staring again, and she brings your hands up to her chest, moaning at the first moment of contact. Your instincts overtake you; you push yourself off the bed to her boobs and start to suck. Your lips seal around her nipples and she runs her fingers through your hair as she tries to push you deeper into her delicious breast.

“Shit, don’t stop,” Nana pleads, and you continue kneading the flesh of her boobs more, sucking when and where you can. At that moment, she forces herself back down onto your dick, taking in everything again all at once. Her walls part suddenly, and once she settles her warm pussy walls squeeze your cock as tight as she can. She begins bouncing, her moans never stopping, and you find a rhythm: each time Nana brings herself down, you thrust up to meet her halfway. The first time you do, you reach a depth to her that neither of you thought was possible, and the heat from her sex with her slick drive the pair of you insane with pleasure.

She keeps bouncing on your cock as her lewd moans gradually grow louder and louder with each of your thrusts into her needy core. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, her pussy tightens again, and just as you deliver a perfectly-timed bite to her nipple, another scream rakes out of her throat as her second orgasm overtakes her. Her pussy convulses as her hips buck again and again on your cock, her thighs and tits jiggle seductively, and her tightness reaches new heights as if she wants to keep your cock inside her forever. Despite this, you never stop thrusting her, never stop making love to her, and you cover her chest in kisses while you lick up all her sweat.

You never give her a chance to catch her breath, and soon enough, an unknowable number of seconds or minutes past, you feel your own orgasm coming. You take one last look at her godly figure and divine visuals, and you finally succumb.

Hold her close, hold her tight. She’s made it clear that she doesn’t want you getting away, so you only return the desire. Keep thrusting into her, forget about how she’s losing her mind. She’s gone, lost in her own pleasure, and there’s no point in bringing her back yourself. Instead, follow her. Send yourself over the edge and join her in her ecstasy.

You momentarily lose your flow of consciousness as flashes of white fill your eyes, but you’re snapped back to reality with Nana pulling at your hair. Only then do you realize; you’re actually cumming inside her. With each spurt, you thrust into her as your cock twitches against her slick walls. The cumulative heat from your cum sends just the right signals to Nana’s body, and it sends back the equivalent of screams of desperation at the illusion of breeding. Your pumps are harsh and careless – thank the stars you’re wearing a condom – but Nana is too far lost to care past the unholy pleasure you deliver to her.

“Fuck, fuck! Aaaahhh!!!!” You feel her tighter, as if clamping down on your cock, her cunt pulsating and the connection between the two of you growing wetter, slicker. Despite this, you never let up, hell-bent on giving her everything you have. One spurt turns into two, then four, then six. It didn’t matter, none of it did. It could have been the end of the world and you wouldn’t have minded. All that was important was the girl sitting on your lap, losing her mind.

As both of your orgasms die down, the pair of you fall to the mattress. You stare at each other, wide-eyed and out of breath, and all you can do is smile and giggle at each other. As each of you catch your breath, the world quiets down, and all that’s left in existence is just you and Nana.

“Wow,” she sighs, “nice.” Her smile grows wide again, and her hand once more finds your cheek to caress.

“Yeah, nice.” You laugh back at her, the adrenaline fading quickly. “Does that check the thing off your list?”

“Oh, yeah!” Nana jolts up and off the bed, or at least attempts to. Instead, she falls back next to you, and only then do you realize the fatigue rendering your bodies useless.

“So… we good?” There’s nowhere else to look but right to her. Nana’s beautiful, round, just a bit teary eyes gaze back at you with adoration and love, something you never thought you’d have for yourself in this magnitude. And yet, here you are, and here she is, as if nothing else mattered.

“Shit. That was crazy. Anyway, yeah. Thanks.” With her last ounce of strength, she comes in for one more kiss. She collapses in your arms, cuddled right up to your chest, and you can imagine she could hear how loud your heart was thumping, just like hers.

Catch her snoring an adorable snore, wrap her in an embrace that would protect her from the worst the world could throw at her. A small thought in your head says you want to keep her safe forever like this, but you know better: she’s a strong woman who can take care of herself. Think back to how lucky you are, and how you walked this journey with her. Recall how she was just a fearful nobody when you first met, remember how you watched her grow into the amazing person she is now.

Your eyelids grow heavy, and you realize your waking seconds left are numbered. Right before you drift off to sleep yourself, you hear her, in the tiniest voice ever, mumbling her confession: “Stay with me.”

“Go to sleep, Nana.” You smile and turn your head toward hers, arms wrapped around her waist.

“Not without a promise.” Her own eyes are half-lidded, and you can tell she’s fighting back her drowsiness as hard as she can. She tries blinking the sleep away, but it only works marginally.

You could say anything to her at all right now, anything in the world, but there’s really only two things that need to be put into words. Your mind rushes at a snail’s pace, and you reach for faraway ideas when the right one is just in front of you. In your mind only one question appears: “So is this like…a one time thing?”

In response Nana just leans in and kisses your cheek, then giggles. “Would me saying ‘I love you’ outside of sex prove it?” she asks playfully, her tone betraying her desire for rest.

“Touché.” One hand goes to her soft blonde hair, brushing it to the side. “But in my defence, suddenly kissing me and then getting me naked was not the first thing I expected when you said there was ‘one last thing’ in your bucket list,” you state matter-of-factly.

You share a bout of tired laughter for a moment, and then you both look at each other with pure eyes, as if you two compete to see who can make the other blush first. Decidedly, Nana loses while she confesses. “I used to think that college was supposed to be all rose-colored, that it was to be the peak of my life. But spending it with you, I learned that it doesn’t have to be all grand milestones to live through.” The air in the room swirls differently, replacing stale breaths with new ones from the open window.

“That time you cheered me on during the open mic, how you looked at me… It made me realise that after everything’s said and done, I wanted peace. And I can feel peace with you, without all the guilt of past mistakes, nor ghosts of regret that would’ve haunted me for the rest of my life,” she says, now leaning toward your ear muttering, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whisper back, smiling from ear to ear. Eventually you both released the hug. Look around her room for your clothes, which was surprisingly hard for how your sex wasn't too feral, and in turns take showers to clean yourselves up.

As you get out of the shower, fully cleaned and with some good-enough-for-sleep clothes, you find Nana on her bed fully knocked out. You simply laugh and join her, and her instinct leads her to wrap her arms around your waist while her head leans into your chest.

“Goodnight, Nana,” you whisper with finality, as if ending the night on a perfect note. Peck her forehead and close your own eyes, and fall into slumber just as deep as hers.

Bucket List Completed

“Argh, I’m so excited!” She grips you by your collar and shakes you as she screams, jolting away any sleep you wished to get.

Two months have come and gone, and while you know it hasn’t been long, things have changed so much. Despite you trying to get just a bit more sleep in the backseat of the taxi, Nana right next to you can’t stop bouncing in hers as the sights outside the window pass her by.

“Okay, okay. Just get all this energy out before we get on the plane, please?”

She returns her attention to the window just as the taxi slows to a halt. Your new girlfriend practically throws open the door and leaps out, heading straight for the trunk to retrieve your luggage.

“Hurry up! We might miss our flight!” She struggles lifting her comically large suitcase before you hear it hits the concrete pavement followed by its handle extending with its clack-clack-clack.

“Hawaii isn’t going anywhere, Nana, please,” you mutter as you lazily exit the cab. You hand the driver your fare, and he reaches out to accept. As he does, he gives you a knowing smirk and tips his hat to you, as if saying “good luck.”

Turning around, you find Nana with all of your luggage too, eagerly awaiting your arm for her to cling to before you make your way inside. The hustle and bustle of Incheon International Airport fills her with a deep sense of excitement, and honestly, who could blame her? Your girlfriend is in the midst of all these other people — travelers, tourists, adventurers — and she fits right in. It’s the most natural thing for her now, to find herself in new situations that broaden her horizons and make her feel alive.

She yanks you to her side in line for the desk, holding her brand-new polaroid camera at a high angle. “Cheese!” she screams, not far enough from your ear, but with how happy she is, you can’t help but smile her smile too. “Our first overseas trip! This is the first time I’m leaving Seoul, let alone Korea!”

“Okay, Nana, calm down,” you chuckle, but you know she won’t. Divert her attention instead, put her energy to good use. “Do you have your passport? Carry on? Pink notebook?”

Though you both are sure she hasn’t missed anything, Nana rummages through her bag again anyway. “Check, check, and check! How could I forget?” She takes each item to show to you, and she flips through the pink notebook once it’s in her hand.

One thing about Nana, she never lets the moment escape her anymore. Once she sets out to do something, she’ll do everything in her power to accomplish that goal. This is no different, and you love her so much for it.

After looking through the notebook, she claps it shut. She flashes you the drawing of a gray bucket on its front cover before it disappears back into her carry on, and you both are reminded that a part of who you are as a couple is just that: a notebook that predicts the future by rooting itself in the present. Sadly, a weeklong trip won’t be enough for everything on her list this time, but who’s to say you’re not coming back eventually?

And at the end of the trip, you have it ready, the best gift you could give her: a little green notebook, every left-side page filled with things you want to do, and the corresponding right side page blank, all for her. And on the very last leaf, where the cardboard of the back cover accompanies it, is a drawing of a ring, with the words: “I’ll be taking my time, spending my life, falling deeper in love with you.”

“Come on, hurry!” She yanks again, snapping you out of your wistful thoughts. “We’re gonna miss the plane!” Nana pulls you to the gate just as the intercom announces your flight has begun boarding. “Alright, alright! Easy,” you chuckle again, and you can’t believe this is the same girl behind the gym crying her eyes out alone just last year. Funny how people change like that, but at the same time, it’s impossible to think that Nana would ever stay the same.

================================================

Thank you all for watching, it has been a long time working on it and we are really happy it is finally out, hope yall had a good read with this one,

i will see you all next time leafies~

#kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop smut #nana wooah #nana smut #wooah #wooah smut

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avianyuh · 10 months

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S.Coups/Choi Seungcheol as a boyfriend

He would be so much fun

I think he'd love to go out to different restaurants with you

Or take you to the studio and have you hear his lyrics

Maybe even take you to the gym with him lol

You'd be Kkuma's other parent

Most likely, you'd watch over Kkuma while he was away on tour

Anyways, Cheol would be so protective over you

He's like that with the boys, so imagine being his partner

You ARE his baby

Somebody messed with you?

You will frequently be hearing, "Do I have to make a visit to someone?"

You're cold?

"Take my jacket! Do you want me to look for a nearby store, I'll buy you a new one?"

"No Cheol, I'm fine"

"No I really will, I'm ordering one right now for next time"

This man!

Most likely, he'd introduce you to either Jeonghan, Shua or Woozi first.

Reason I say Woozi is becuase they've known each other for so long, I'm sure he values Woozi's opinion

But with Seungcheol, I don't think he needs his members opinion when it comes to you

Mainly because he'd only introduce you to the members if he was serious about you

So I see him confiding in those three in the early stages of your relationship, not really when he's sure of you

When you're in the car, he drives with one hand, so his other hand is placed on your thigh

UGH

It's so hot

And no this is not made up, I have photo evidence that this man drives with one hand

Shexy Shtuff

Defo the type to 'wait it out' lmao

He wouldn't want you to feel used or anything

So during the first year, even if YOU wanted to have sex, he'd probably be like, "Uh, let's just wait"

I think he'd want to fully get to know you first

But when he feels like you're completely committed to him and vice versa

It's all free real estate

GIRL-

Woo

He's a switch

I said what I said

Yeah, he's a total daddy dom

But I think Seungcheol would like to be taken care of sometimes

Probably more submissive when he's tired but still in the mood for sex

And like I said, once he's committed, free real estate

This man will come home horny

Constantly ready to go

Especially after the gym when he's all sweaty

You jump him every time he comes home from the gym

Back to regularly scheduled programming:

He wants kids, and loves to talk about your future

How many kids you want

When you should start your family

One of his favorites things to do in your relationship is lay in bed, your head on his chest, him caressing your hair, staring up at the ceiling

And just talking about the future

What you both want in life

It's his way of making your relationship feel like you're still in the honeymoon phase.

Anyways...

Cheol would be a committed man to you

Gives the sweetest kisses

The type to kiss you all over your face when he sees you

Hypes you up with everything you do

Awkward and adroable

Choi Seungcheol,

SVT's dad

Your daddy ;)

~~~

{A/N; I told y'all I would write the coups headcanon. I literally cried watching him give the acceptance speech at MAMA lol, he looks like he's recovering well! BTW, if you have any requests, plz send them in, it seems like I only get BTS requests? Funny cuz I used to only get NCT requests and now it's completely switched. I kinda miss my NCT requests lol, if you have anything you want plz send it in! I've also been writing for some second gen idols (not published yet)

second gen idol fics are lacking on tumblr for some reason?...but that's another story

Anyways hope you enjoyed, mwah💋}

#scoups #seventeen #seventeen reactions #seventeen headcanons #svt #svt as boyfriends #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt smut #svt fanfic #choi seungcheol

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ktempestbradford · 1 year

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A Story for Star Trek Day

I've told this story on Twitter before. I tell it every Star Trek Day and whenever a Deep Space 9 anniversary rolls around. It's about me and Avery Brooks (aka Best ST Captain Benjamin Sisko).

The college my mother went to specifically started recruiting top Black students in the 60s. Due to this, the Black kids all mostly knew each other as they were in that same program. Avery Brooks went to the same college and they were good friends.

(She once told me he had a huge crush on her and I was like MOM. MOTHER. WHAT. HOW COULD YOU HE COULD HAVE BEEN MY DAD.)

Anyway, many of the students in this program remained friends long after college. So over the years as Avery was getting TV gigs & such we would all watch cuz he was my mom's friend & I thought that was the coolest. There was one particularly fun night when my best friend's uncle, Frankie Faison, guest starred on A Man Called Hawk. TWO people we know on TV!

When I was in middle school Avery was touring his production of "Paul Robeson" and it came through our town, so I got to see him perform in person (awesooooome) and meet him for the first time since I was a baby (which I did not remember, of course).

Now, backing up a little bit: I am a Star Trek fan because of my mom. She loved the original series and I remember being a wee Tempest in front of the TV watching The Wrath of Khan and us excitedly going to see Star Trek IV together.

I watched TNG from the instant it appeared on TV because of her. I watched all of The Animated Series even though everyone looked "wrong". (Man... it took me 4 months to realize that dude in the red shirt was Scotty cuz I'd only ever seen movie Scotty.)

Then... they announced Deep Space 9.

We heard Avery Brooks would be the commander and there was MUCH rejoicing around our house. DS9 turned out to be the best Trek ever and, of course, Avery was awesome. This was around the time my mom dropped that "he had a crush on me but I wasn't interested" bombshell.

I'm still bitter.

I mean, I love my dad he's great. But SISKO COULD HAVE BEEN MY DAD.

I lost my mom in 1999. She was--and I'm not exaggerating--an extraordinary woman and beloved by many. I received so many beautiful messages of condolence from her friends all the way back to those college years, including Avery. So many people remembered her fondly. <3

I kept watching Star Trek and often talked to her as if she was there during episodes. She would have LOVED Discovery. Especially since she took me to RENT the year I started college. I'm sure she would have shared my opinion of Enterprise as well. But she loved her some Scott Bakula, so she would have watched, anyway.

I got the chance to interview Avery Brooks at DragonCon back in 2013 (jeez, it's been almost 10 years omg). Before the interview, I went up to him on the Walk of Fame and I said:

Hi, I'm (name K stands for) Bradford, I don't know if you remember me...

And he looked up and said: Of course I remember you.

We talked for a bit and I asked if I could come back and interview him later and he said yes (he wasn't supposed to; his handler had A LOOK). I didn't want to hold up his line, so I said I'd see him later.

Before I could go, he reached out for my hand and squeezed it before saying: I loved your mama, you know.

And we just stayed like that for a few seconds, missing her together.

...I might have been trying very hard not to burst into tears.

That DragonCon was the last time I saw Avery. Barring an extraordinary circumstance, that's probably the last time I'll see him in person. I'm glad we got to have that moment together. And we had a great conversation!

His contribution to Trek has meant so much to me. SISKO4EVA

And I'm glad that it's another tie between me, my mom, and Trek. I can't watch DS9 without hearing her voice giving color commentary. Even the episodes she didn't live to see.

I think Star Trek is part of what gave her hope for the future. She passed that on to me. ❤️🖖🏾❤️

Happy Star Trek Day to all who celebrate.

#Star Trek Day #Sisko #Deep Space 9 #DS9 #Star Trek

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zvaigzdelasas · 26 days

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[Machine Translation]

LIVE. Future Prime Minister: Macron rules out NFP government option and will resume consultations on Tuesday

Almost two months after the second round of the legislative elections, Emmanuel Macron continues this Monday to receive party leaders at the Élysée Palace, as well as the presidents of the Senate and the National Assembly. With a question in the background: with whom to govern?[...]

[19:38]: Macron rules out NFP government option in name of 'institutional stability' "At the end of the consultations, the President of the Republic noted that a government based solely on the program and parties proposed by the alliance with the largest number of MPs, the New Popular Front, would be immediately censored by all the other groups represented in the National Assembly," the Élysée Palace said in a statement. "Such a government would therefore immediately have a majority of more than 350 MPs against it, effectively preventing it from acting. Given the views of the political leaders consulted, the institutional stability of our country therefore requires that this option not be retained," it added.[...]

[19:59]: "This is an anti-democratic coup that is completely unacceptable," reacts Manuel Bompard.

On BFM TV, the coordinator of France Insoumise, a member of the NFP, castigates Emmanuel Macron's statements refusing a left-wing coalition government. "It's a completely unacceptable anti-democratic coup," judges Manuel Bompard, considering that Emmanuel Macron's argument "makes no sense." "If there is another possible coalition, then the President of the Republic must tell us which one. The President of the Republic is ignoring the results of the legislative elections and acting as if there had not been a vote," continues the LFI elected official. "It is the NFP that must form the country's next government," he insists.[...]

[20:16]: Roussel calls for rallies for the NFP Dissatisfied with Emmanuel Macron's opposition to an NFP government, the communist leader called on BFMTV for "a large popular mobilization" and rallies, particularly in front of "the prefectures."

26 Aug 24

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lonestarflight · 11 months

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Space Station Concepts: Space Operations Center

"The SOC is a self-contained orbital facility built up of several Shuttle-launched modules. With resupply, on-orbit refurbish- ment and orbit maintenance, it is capable of continuous operation for an indefinite period. In the nominal operational mode, the SOC is manned continuously, but unmanned operation is possible.

The present mission management and control process is characterized by a people-intensive ground monitoring and control operation involving large supporting ground information and control facilities and a highly- integrated ground-flight crew operation. In order to reduce dependence on Earth monitoring and control, the SOC would have to provide for increased systems monitoring; fault isolation and failure analysis, and the ability to store and call up extensive sets of data to support the onboard control of the vehicle; and the onboard capability for daily mission and other activity planning."

"Like most other space station studies from the mid/late 1970s its primary mission was the assembly and servicing of large spacecraft in Earth orbit -- not science. NASA/JSC signed a contract with Boeing in 1980 to further develop the design. Like most NASA space station plans, SOC would be assembled in orbit from modules launched on the Space Shuttle. The crew's tour of duty would have been 90 days. NASA originally estimated the total cost to be $2.7 billion, but the estimated cost had increased to $4.7 billion by 1981. SOC would have been operational by 1990.

NASA's Johnson Spaceflight Center extended the Boeing contract in February 1982 to study a cheaper, modular, evolutionary approach to assembling the Space Operations Center. An initial power module would consist of solar arrays and radiators. The next launches would have delivered a space tug 'garage', two pressurized crew modules and a logistics module. The completed Space Operations Center also would have contained a satellite servicing and assembly facility and several laboratory modules. Even with this revised approach, however, the cost of the SOC program had grown to $9 billion. Another problem was Space Operations Center's primary mission: spacecraft assembly and servicing. The likely users (commercial satellite operators and telecommunications companies) were not really interested in the kind of large geostationary space platforms proposed by NASA. By 1983, the only enthusiastic users for NASA's space station plans were scientists working in the fields of microgravity research and life sciences. Their needs would dictate future space station design although NASA's 1984 station plans did incorporate a SOC-type spacecraft servicing facility as well."

Article by Marcus Lindroos, from astronautix.com: link

NASA ID: link, S79-10137

Boeing photo no. R-1859, link, link

#Space Operations Center #Space Station Freedom #Space Station Concept #Space Station #Concept Art #Space Station Program #Space #Earth #Space Shuttle #Orbiter #NASA #Space Shuttle Program #1979 #1980s #my post

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onyourowndaisymae · 1 year

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don't mind me... just thinking about the dateables slowly dropping the rest of their roster for you as they fall head over heels...

diavolo // barbatos (you are here) // simeon // solomon -- x gn!reader, NSFW below the cut

barbatos, who will always be there for lord diavolo. when the idea of an exchange program first popped in the prince's head, barbatos was the backboard in which diavolo bounced his ideas off of. humans and angels in the devildom? how would we keep them safe? what would their curriculum look like? the program slowly molds into shape with each of these conversations. he watches as the idea grows to a proposal, then a plan, and finally, a real project to work towards. the prince is always chipper when discussing the program. a few nobles doubt that the plan will come to fruition, but barbatos has long since learned that doubting the prince will only motivate him more. when the day of the exchange program begins, barbatos watches with a small, almost entirely smile as the future king of the devildom welcomes the new students to his academy.

barbatos, who lives to please. it's his purpose, his sole duty in the devildom day in and day out. when lord diavolo orders him to make sure you feel welcome, he does the job with flourish. your favorite desserts are always at tea when you visit. he's sure to answer any questions or concerns you have promptly as you tour the castle. he even loosens the leash on the young master just a little as the two of you grow closer, giving him some grace to spend time with you over staying cooped up in his office-- so long as you continue to enjoy yourself. maybe somewhere along the way affection blurs into duty, obligation fading into genuine interest. he's there to lend a listening ear, to be a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold should you so desire. barbatos never oversteps his bounds, for that would be wholly unprofessional. but he never speaks up when you linger in the kitchen, shuffling in your spot as you babble on about whatever comes to mind. he never rushes you out after a long day at the castle visiting the young master, even when the skies are dark and lucifer is impatient to know your estimated arrival time back at the house of lamentation. it's the little things that let you know he cares... maybe even a little more than he believes he should.

barbatos, who doesn't mind your company-- even if you're a little distracting. your laughter echoes through the garden, giddy chirps quickly becoming loud, joyous barks of noise as little d's bound around your feet. their voices overlap, all too excited to be avoiding their gardening duty, as they bombard you with jokes and stories. barbatos should send them on their way. but you look so happy. you once said that they reminded you of dogs from the human realm with the way they darted around and got into trouble. the metaphor wasn't perfect, considering they were still conniving little demons, but they'd suffice. anything to ease your homesickness, after all. he doesn't even realize the tree trimmers in his own hands have stalled until you cry out-- how long had he been watching you? in a moment of darting demons and misplaced footsteps, you tumble to the ground, tripped by one of the little d's. he knows it's an accident, but his tone is venomous as he tells the demons to get away from you. they scatter like roaches. he's quick to make his way to your side, and you laugh, brushing off his concerns as he helps you up. but look. your palm is red and irritated from the impact. it's not enough of a scrape to draw blood, but you still got hurt. barbatos bows deeply to apologize for allowing them to take things too far-- he should have been watching better. he'll find a fitting punishment for them, although he doesn't share that with you. your hands wave in panic as you assure him no, it's okay, don't apologize! he inspects the injury again, gloved fingers gliding against the wound, watching your face from the corner of his eye to see if he's causing you any discomfort. you appear to be fine. barbatos does the courteous thing-- surely, that's the only motivator for his actions, nothing else-- and presses a soft kiss to the wound as a final, silent apology. your eyes are wide when he meets them again, lips curling nervously into an uncertain smile. if he didn't know any better, he'd say you look like you're already plotting your next injury. maybe that's just his imagination.

barbatos, who has grown. who has lived a long, long life, and will continue to live far into the future, where the human mind can no longer perceive time. he was around long before you were a fruit on your family tree-- hell, he was probably born before it was even planted. he's seen civilizations rise and fall. greed has swallowed whole kingdoms under his silent watch, castles crumbling under the weight of their own hubris while he didn't say a word. humans are so flawed, so sinful. he's never cared much for their weight in his life. he used to think the realms were better off separate-- until he met the young master, of course-- but now he knows where he was wrong. your clumsy fingers fumble with the ingredients, their foreign colors and textures tripping you up as you follow the recipe he wrote out for you. he has to stop himself from micromanaging you. barbatos watches you from the corner of his eyes as he kneads out the pastry dough in his hands. the cultural exchange must be hard for you, even after all these months you've been immersed in demon culture. he doesn't think about it, didn't think about it, until one of the brothers brought it up in passing. how strange. you've adapted quite well to everything. his mind wanders as he watches you look between measuring cups. how long as it been? how long have these sorts of feelings been dormant in him, this level of passion for another living creature? you captivate him like no other. when he was a younger demon, he spent years wandering, indulging every hedonistic desire he had. there were countless lovers left in his dust, tangled bedsheets and broken hearts trailing back to the dawn of time. it'd been a long time since he bothered to look at anyone romantically, even longer since someone stirred these feelings up on their own. yet here you were. special, truly. a grin split your face, and barbatos watched as you did a little dance to celebrate your successful attempt at completing this portion the recipe. praise flowed like warm honey from his lips. his words made your grin wider, if at all possible. you crossed the counter to press a giddy little kiss against his cheek, and he stilled for a long moment. how did a little kiss affect him so? this, he might never realize. he broke the spell with a small chuckle and returned the favor-- properly, this time, pressing his lips against yours for a moment before refocusing your attention on the desserts you had yet to finish. he'd met a lot of humans in his lifetime, and yet there was something about you none of the rest of them had. but what? he'd gladly spend as long as he needed to in pursuit of that answer.

barbatos, who will never get tired of a quiet morning. they're rare in his profession-- usually he's up early, silently pattering about as he begins preparing to wake the rest of the castle. but today that is not the case. today he's curled around you like vines on ruins, body intertwined with yours until he hardly knows where he ends and you begin. the crypt he calls a room is dark at all hours of the day, only illuminated by candles and other such lights when someone walks in. but you've got a special lamp from the human world that brightens your room in tune with the time of day, like the sun in the human realm does naturally. the warm light caresses the curve of your cheeks, the curl of your lips, the fluttering of your eyelids as you begin to stir. there's a part of him that wants you to stay asleep. he wants to observe your drowsy form a little longer, to burn the shape of you into his brain so he'll never know another moment without your face. but your eyes open, and you smile-- maybe having you wake up isn't such a bad thing. you rasp a good morning. he returns the favor. and when you kiss him good morning, he again follows suit. it's lazily, all warm lips and breathy chuckles as your hands come to his cheeks. his arm was already wrapped around your side, and barbatos takes the opportunity to rub circles into your back. neither of you pull away, and lazy kisses grow more heated when left to progress. his lips trail across your skin, breath tickling your collarbone, your sternum, your stomach, until he reaches the waistband of your sleep shorts. he spares you a quick glance to see you nod, easing yourself out of your lower garments with his assistance. his tongue laps softly at your sex, eliciting a content sigh from you. your thighs wrap carefully around his head, and his arms link around them to hold you close. sleep clings to your skin like his touch. it's all light, all careful, his lips wrapping around your sex and sucking just enough to make you whine. it's a gentle build up of pleasure inside you. his fingers replace his lips somewhere along the way, stroking you as his tongue moves instead to your hole. his tongue pushes shallowly inside you, alternating between lapping and thrusting in a way that leaves you squirming around his head. trembling fingers grip his hair when you eventually climax. there's love in his eyes and in his smile as he licks his mess clean, his spit mixing with yours juices around his mouth and between your thighs. he only moves when you murmur something about wanting him inside you-- that catches his attention, and he's quick to finish cleanup before slipping out of his own clothes. he needs nothing more than a simple kiss to be prepped for you after such a wonderful show. your pleasure is his pleasure. his lips meet yours, and he lines himself up carefully before pushing into your hole with a few languid, easy thrusts. a sigh catches between your joined lips-- is it his, or yours?-- and he waits a moment before moving inside of you. you exist in many timelines, many worlds, all living different lives with different people. but he is eternally grateful he lives in this one. he couldn't imagine every being content after having you like this, ever craving someone else like he does you. a lifetime without you is simply not worth living in-- that, barbatos is sure of.

taglist for this series: @the-demonus-aunt // @scienceisfornerds // @hostilemakeover // @snow-fall1 // @kachan890 // @rphantom1 // @respitable // @deepseafragments // @niinian

#my apologies for dropping this a day late i wanted to do him justice #this is not as smutty as some of the others either but i genuinely don't picture him to have a real roster like the others #also i'm just now looking and this is Long As Hell #obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me barbatos #obey me x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me smut

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aineryeo · 1 month

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The Legend of the Blue Sea Episode 3.1: Maybe This Time

Chapter Synopsis: The second time Kenji Sato met you was during his junior year of high school. Newly transferred and still getting started on being varsity for the baseball team, he overhears his high school crush talk trash about him. Determined to get back at them, he convinces you, the girl who managed to smack him mid-run with a whiteboard, to be his fake girlfriend for 7 days.

In present time, Kenji and Mina discover how to wake the sleeping beauty up from the magic needle. But when this finally happens, Kenji now has to deal with the realisation that the princess... was a gremlin.

Themes & Warnings (Chapter):

Author Notes:

I had to cut Episode 3 to two parts because I kept wondering why I'm taking so long to write but then I scanned the chapter and realised I was going 11k and there was still a hefty chunk left from the outline 😭 It took a while to flesh everything out since I spent the past week also adding more details to the other chapters to deepen the flavours 🫴🤌 This is still fluff but the next part is where things start going on the jealous and angst start, the fairytale era bout to transition out!!!

I also found a really cool song that pairs with the theme of the high school memory, it's linked on the title! It's super fitting the vocals are amazing aghhjjr!!

The Legend of the Blue Sea: Masterlist

Episode 3.1: Maybe This Time ⇾ Episode 3.2: Fish on Land

Westwood Academy, otherwise known as Westwood University, situated in Los Angeles, is one of the many renowned schools along the state. It hosts preschool to elementary to high school up ‘til college. It's one of the major league schools but is typically known for its.. extravagant prices. Often, along with a list of other universities, they allow for student exchange programs for exceptional scholars, selected around the world, to tour the litter of schools’ labs, attend special classes, or participate in small collaborative projects. Most of it was to allow these one in a million group of children to choose between potential university options.

Of course, even though this prestigious academy offered a massive field for different types of sports and had a pretty amazing reputation for its academic endeavours, for a guy like Kenji Sato, he knew that in the future, he’ll be transferring to the University of Los Angeles, where most athletes start to get drafted into the Major League Baseball drafts.

But that’s not the reason why he’s bursting his way through the halls right now, no.

Kenji’s running down the hallways because he stayed up too late last night trying to perfect his swing so he can finally get off the bench and play as one of their schools’ main batters. However, it definitely did not help that he spent the days prior studying for his exams too. And now, he slept through majority of his classes, waking up only to find out that in T-minus ten minutes, his Biology class will start, and he’s not too keen on facing the wrath of his teacher chastising him for that Plant Growth Experiment they’ve been rambling on and on about for the past three weeks.

“Out of the way!” Kenji dashes, jumping to avoid the group of students in the hall sitting.

“Sorry, in a rush—”

“Woah, watch those burgers, man.”

So far, he’s been barreling through the hallways great. It’s almost like his athletic instincts are on the high, the adrenaline pumping through his veins being the apt proof needed.

Jump, duck, dash, side, shwuck!

Kenji can see it, the greenhouse! It’s so close— But the sudden options in his head turn from swerving left, or jumping, to… (a) Crash right into this person rolling out a whiteboard all of a sudden in the middle of the hall without even looking at any passersby, or (b) CRASH but in capital.

The next few seconds, safe to say, were unpleasant.

“Shit, shit, shit!!!” Kenji yells, unable to stop his momentum, all but perfectly rams his face on to the rolling whiteboard.

Overcome with blaring pain on his forehead and nose, Kenji laid on the ground, chest uncomfortably resting on the similarly thrown down whiteboard who was unable to withstand his force. A myriad of groans and repeating ow’s overtook the once silent air. The sound of padding footsteps and a bleary voice soon adds on.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Kenji’s vision was blurry, still trying to adjust to his surroundings, eyes squinting and blinking as he realised that even his torso felt sore from the impact.

“Ugh…”

Suddenly, he feels gentle hands turning him over, pulling him away from the fallen board beneath him, albeit with some difficulty.

“God, you’re heavy.” He hears, moments before feeling his head plop down on pillowy skin.

Soon, his vision adjusts itself, enough so he can see the person holding him by the cheeks right now. And boy, when Kenji says he never felt like his anger dissipated so fast like a balloon deflating upon seeing your face, you best believe him.

“I think you'll be forming a bruise right here,” You say, all furrowed brows as you turn his face side to side.

“Oh no, your nose is bleeding now.”

Feeling your soft hold on him disappear, Kenji, all clad in his disarrayed highschool uniform, watches as you try to check your pockets for a handkerchief.

He watches you for a good minute or two trying to figure out where you placed your damned handkerchief, or so you say. Groaning as he picks himself back up, supporting his weight from the back, he distantly hears you say ah! Before he felt you practically shove the thing in his face.

“Here! To wipe your… blood.” You say awkwardly, the bell had rung a minute ago while Kenji thought it was just the ringing in his ears, the more desolate surroundings proved otherwise. He gracefully accepts your offer, lightly tapping the fabric on his nose that gladly did not crook from the impact. Still, it hurt.

You stood up to get the empty whiteboard back on its feet as Kenji stayed seated on the ground in the middle of the hallway that led to the greenhouse. There were no words spoken as both you and him got your bearings.

At least I got a good excuse to miss Biology now. Kenji randomly thinks as he sighs.

But it isn’t until he hears distant footsteps and voices did his instincts rear in. In hindsight, there was probably no reason for him to have felt so nervous to get caught or anything, it’s not like his nose bleed was fake to not garner a visit to the infirmary. Even so, he felt nervous to get caught. Enough to haphazardly drag you inside the room you came in, bringing the whiteboard along before the door slammed closed. Getting into trouble was not in his to-do list today, not after almost getting into a fight with a basketball player last week.

Your handkerchief was lying on the floor, the surprisingly soft hands of the boy you just met were muffling your surprised yelps with his palm, the other hand shushing you, his pointer finger pressing to his own lips. When the voices come closer, Kenji finally realises that it wasn’t a teacher that was walking towards them. It was his first crush ever since he transferred in Los Angeles when he was 8.

“So, are you going to respond to Ken-Ken anytime soon, Ash?” A litter of giggles follow as Kenji felt the heat rising up to his ears from the embarrassing nickname.

“Stoppp, you know I have to be nice because I’m class rep.” Ashley whines, stomping her foot and stopping just in front of the door of the classroom where you and Kenji hid. The action made you and him duck to the floor, nervous to get caught.

“Have you seen his eyebags lately? He looks horrible! I can’t believe he even asked for my help with Chemistry earlier, seriously. Aren’t you supposed to be the smarter one?”

"I know, right? And what’s with his accent? It’s like, get over yourself. He tries too hard sometimes. That’s probably why he’s just benched in the baseball team." Her friend snickers.

"And don’t get me started on his lunches. So gross!" Another one pipes in. “He eats raw fish and even eggs sometimes. Eugh…” She lurches.

Kenji hears a sigh, before the familiar voice of Ashley cuts through her friends. “Anyway, let’s go finish fetching the plants,”

“Didn’t Ken-Ken forget his project?”

“Talk about going against his nature, haha.”

The whole conversation made his shoulders and hands drop once their footsteps disappear. His demeanour immediately went from running through the halls to lying on the floor, and this time, it’s not because of a rolling whiteboard. Kenji sighs as he sits back on the floor, hands behind him as he looked up, the classroom was relatively dark, it was one of the extras, after all. His eyes close as he breathes in heavily, contemplating; ignoring the continuous trickle of red down his chin.

You, on the other hand, were perplexed. But seeing the situation, you can guess at least that much. After all, you were entering college at the ripe age of fifteen. In a tongue that Kenji hadn’t heard in a long time aside from phrases from his mom, you spoke. Quietly. Afraid to topple the fragile pieces that was the boy you just met.

“Was that you they were talking about?” You get the forgotten handkerchief on the floor, dried blood on some parts as you try to pat the dust away.

Kenji’s eyes open. And they meet yours. Worried yet curious, shimmering orbs, and gentle delicate hands that dabbed on his nose.

“Yeah.” He replies meekly, forgoing the language his peers spoke in, now matching yours. He didn't miss a beat in his language class, and his mom would definitely chastise him if he didn't know how to speak his mother tongue at all.

You give him a lopsided smile. “It would have been really awkward if you didn’t speak Japanese.”

Kenji chuckles at this. “Had doubts? What, not Japanese enough for you?”

You hum. “Does it matter? Being enough of one or the other.”

“...Well, no..”

Kenji huffs, laying on his back. “But it sure would make my life a hell of a lot easier.”

“Laying down isn’t good if you’re having a nose bleed.” You frown, about to reach down so you can pinch his nose.

As Kenji rummages through his brain, talking about how love, even though it was only a minor crush, absolutely sucks; his mind runs over what you said.

Nose bleed…

Then like a lightbulb; a sudden, stupid idea pierces through his blinded teenage head as he grabs your wrist and sits upright.

“You gave me this nose bleed.” Kenji starts, pointing to said appendage. And you were about to apologise, but he continues far too fast. “So, you have to do something for me.”

“What? Isn’t my handkerchief and recommendation to go to the infirmary not enough?”

“Wasn’t the one hogging the middle of the hallway.”

“Well I wasn’t the one running in the hallway. Section 5.8 of your school’s student handbook said no running in the halls.”

“Your sch—” Kenji’s eyes drift down to see that you aren’t wearing the standard uniform for the academy. Instead, you were in civilians. “Ohhhh,”

“Hah, can’t believe an exchange scholar like me know more than a veteran.”

“Never said I was a veteran.” Kenji shrugs. “And even if I was, what kind of normal person just rolls out a big whiteboard without looking outside?”

And just like that, it felt like there was some sort of.. mischievous jazz in the background, the words kept coming out, and out. Your arms and his start crossing, and you both inch closer and closer, with every retort.

“Have you ever heard of speed limits? You should stop dreaming about getting a driver’s licence at this point, Sir.”

“Getting this show on the road, huh? Well… ever heard of mid-lane hogging, Ma’am?”

“Oh? Did you just use an idiom literally? Cheesy.” You roll your eyes.

“Actually, that was a double entendre. I used it literally, and as intended. Too bad my ingenuity went over your head. Aren’t you supposed to be one of those exchange scholars? Did they get you mixed up with someone else?”

“I wish ingenuity was an antonym for genius right now.” You shake your head with a faux frown.

“Running out of fuel? ‘Cause that was pretty lame.” Kenji harrumphs, not noticing his nose bleed had stopped minutes ago. “Admit it. Your car crashed.”

“Is it my fault if your car crashed into mine?”

“Flat tire.”

Huh?

What was he— your eyes follow his, and it stares from your chest, back to your eyes. Still confused, something Kenji is quickly able to notice, he repeats what he said with a smirk.

“I said… you’re a.. Flat. Tire.”

Realising where he was going, you felt blood boil up to your head as your hand begins to raise. “Ohoh! You monster! I’ll give you more than a nose bleed when I’m done with you—!”

“I’d be… flat-tered.” Kenji pipes up one more time.

You were not flat! You were just… a late bloomer! That’s it!

Unbeknownst to you, Kenji had no qualms with your chest at all, no. And you were definitely not lacking in that department. He just thought that it was a metaphor for someone being so damn… disagreeable. It wasn’t his fault that your shirt was pulling down and he spared but a minute glance.

In all honesty, both of you, stuck in that moment, forgot what you were arguing about in the first place. When your hand was about to land smack on his cheek, he grabs it and pulls you closer to him, a wide grin on his face.

“Come on, help a victim out. We’ll just be giving them… something else to talk about.”

You did not know why you’d agreed to this.

But you did.

“No, no. Absolutely not! Plus, I’m not even popular or something, what statement are you really making there?”

“Well… you’re really pretty.”

He was incredibly insistent, and you felt like you owed him even though you gave him your handkerchief because it had his blood on it. Definitely not because your brain fried when he casually called you pretty with such an earnest face, like arguing would not even make sense to him. You would’ve called him dumb, stupid, or… or something! If he wasn’t speaking so smoothly earlier. Clearly, he does his homework and then some.

At the time, while he decided to skip Biology to head to the clinic with you in tow, you got to know each other just a little bit. Your new.. friend, knew that you’ll be going back to Japan in a few days, so he had to be bold to really make his statement. The stakes were low, and the rewards, at least for Kenji, could be high; enough to save face and show everyone that he does not care about the squeaky class representative.

Kenji preferred to speak to you in Japanese so that only few, if not anyone, could really overhear what you two were talking about.

Eventually, you really had to go and promised to meet in front of the empty classroom where you two hid the morning next day, when your group would have to do some collaborative projects.

And when you separate and return back… Imagine your group, mixed with different ethnicities, academic nukes as you would like to call them, sees you with no whiteboard in hand after being gone for almost an hour or two… embarrassing.

Even more so, when he comes to school the next day, not even waiting to go to your designated meeting location so he can hug you in the middle of their field, catching your group off guard. He’d talk to you and call you a slew of nicknames, most notably…

“Sweetheart! Got you some sandwiches that my mom made. Wanna go eat lunch together at the cafeteria?” Emphasis on the cafeteria, his thick brows wiggling at the word.

He’d hold your hand, and if there was free time for his practices and your little assigned activities, he’d be sitting next to you by the bleachers as you read through the material your temporary mentors recommended. He was sweaty, and he’d be gasping for air, but a wide grin was on his face as he told you he’d stolen so many bases this time. And that he’d hit a few good home runs, how he’ll definitely get a spot on the main team today, all before his coach would call him back with a loud, stern voice.

“Sato!”

He’d leave, yes. But not before he gives you a kiss on the cheek before waving you off as he jogs backwards with a stupid grin.

“What’re you reading?” Kenji would ask.

You’d look up from the cafeteria table, and he’s leaning closer to you to try and get a read in.

“Advanced Robotics: Pioneering Techniques and Applications by Robert Callaghan.” You reply, not missing a beat in your reply.

Kenji would whistle and then proceed to sit beside you as he takes out his lunch. A bento box.

“Want to do a lunch switch? I always wanted to do that.” He asks with puppy eyes matched with a big smile, hands clasped together as he pleaded.

“And I loveee curry!” He adds on.

You notice that he was easy to change demeanours when it came to you. Whether it was because you were from Japan too, or because he knew you'd be leaving, allowing for him to continue acting how he wants to without any true repercussions— you.. would never know.

You smile before sighing out a sure after popping out a deal that he had to buy you ice cream after though, to which he hollers and fist bumps the air as you exchange boxes with an eager face.

You’ll both be in sync when you pick the food with your chopsticks, sighing out a satisfied puff of air while both your cheeks were lathered with the comforting flavour of home.

He never asked for your number. But he’ll wait out of the lecture rooms you’d be in that day, saying he’s just asking the teachers around where the scholars were so he can rush over; offering to carry your bag and walk in step with you.

All in the name of getting back at his ex-crush, of course.

And every time he catches a glimpse of the angered look on his ex-crush, he attunes it to the blooming joy in his chest when he glances back at you, going on a rant about how no, they should have planned the encoding before building the robot. So now, we lost!

You’ll feel a ruffle on your head and a laugh from the taller boy beside you.

Then, you’ll arrive to the front gates. Kenji standing still as you say: “You don’t have to act here anymore, you know? I doubt anyone’s watching anymore.”

Kenji clears his throat, coughing a little, avoiding your gaze. “Well… You might get kidnapped for all I know. I won’t have a sweetheart by then, wouldn’t I?”

“Pfft.” You fail to conceal the bubbling laughter from your throat.

“You’re cheesy as hell,” You tease back, taking your clasped hands away from his so you can lean sideways as you grin. “...sweetheart.”

Kenji could barely get a stuttered reply out before the familiar black car that was from the exchange program drives you to your shared hotel with the other scholars and professors. That day, and the following would go by the same. With him simply giving a lame wave off before the escort drives you away.

All until you finally had to return to Japan; your last day. Like clockwork, however, even on your last day, Kenji would walk with you to the front gates. His steps slow every second, and you would mirror him, you’d go slower, and slower, and even more so; still, you arrive at the front doors.

When Kenji placed a heavy hand to open them, it revealed a slew of raindrops falling from the stormy sky.

“Ah, it wasn’t raining earlier.” Kenji notes. “Got to practise and everything…” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Really? Seems like it’s been going on a while.” You appraise quietly, Kenji only hums in reply.

Like the rain falling in the sky, there was a heavy downpour that neither of you could ever place in the meagre age of highschool, even if you were advancing to college much faster.

“So, you’re going back to Japan today?”

“Yup.” You awkwardly reply as you sway on your feet. Back and forth. “Still have to actually graduate high school before picking my college, you know?”

And it’s quiet again as you both try to think of what to say. It was only a week, and yet… Kenji had never had such a true friend since he moved to Los Angeles when he was a young kid.

“Well, if you wanna see me again, since I know you’ll miss me— oof.” You punch his chest lightly, making him puff out air, as you both eventually chuckle.

“Who says I’ll miss you? You just coerced me into getting chummy with you. Never again.” You huff, crossing your arms and raising your chin indignantly.

“All I’m saying is… if you pick a university close by, I’ll be at ULA soon. I’ll get into the Dodgers for sure.” He’s told you this in one of your many little conversations. The University of Los Angeles, home of the LA Dodgers and the Dodger Stadium.

You look at him and you share a genuine smile as the breeze from the rain sends a peculiar sparking chill down both your spines.

“Sure. I’ll come visit when I’m nearby… hopefully.” You trail off.

Even with the laughter and the once more inevitable silence, there was always something on the tips of yours and Kenji’s tongue. Something to say, some things to ask. And yet, you ball on your feet and he thinks of letting go of your hand that he realises he was clasping too tightly in an embrace with his own fingers.

However, when the recurring black car arrives, you let go before he does, as you dashed through the rain. You turn back, and Kenji’s watching from the safety of the school entrance as you get drenched even though you try to put your bag over your head.

You want to say something, anything. Yet all you could do is give a solemn wave and a smile.

He waves back and you turn away to jog closer to your ride back home, a few steps away from the gate, form stilling as you contemplate getting into the car.

You glance back, and he’s turned away, walking deeper into the school, probably so he won’t get wet. And your mouth opens, but it says nothing; calls out no one.

Your eyes flit to the black car; one last chance.

You can’t help it. You want to tell him more.

You want to tell him how you wish him luck on his career, maybe wish he could find better friends, find a better girl to crush on— and you turn back, one last time, words burning on the tip of your tongue.

But it dies down when your vision meets a familiar uniform.

Kenji’s chest, heaving, as you both get wet in the onslaught of the rain; his hand on your wrist, willing you to stop, as he opens and closes his mouth. The words were on the tip of his tongue; unknowingly mirroring each other in ways you barely had the time to think about after spending only seven days within each other’s presence.

But before you could even squeak out a word, you feel his bigger hands wrap around your now cold cheeks, and in no time…

His warm, soft lips on yours.

Your eyes close, following his tilted head as your hands reach up to hold the hands caressing and holding your face in place. It felt like a sun in the rain, unlike anything you’ve ever felt; and it distantly reminds you of an old childish memory back in the old playground in Odaiba before you and your brothers had to move away to your Aunt’s cafe.

It felt like an eternity of your inexperienced lips melding into each other, and suddenly all too fleeting when you finally pull apart. The honking of the horn from your driver finally takes you both out of your trance. The sudden shattering of the scenario made you glance back to the school entrance, where Kenji’s crush, the reason why you started all of this with him, was standing and watching; and suddenly, you feel your heart pull back the same way that you pulled your body away from him, lightly pushing his chest away.

“I’ll see you.” You whisper, a hint of sadness that Kenji picked up on too late; eyes trained on your similarly drenched figure rushing to the front seat of your escort.

He was too dazed, trying to sculpt the image of his first kiss into his brain. That is, if he forgoes the girl who kissed him when he was seven.

“Good luck, Jiji! I’ll see you.” You wave with a forcibly mischievous tone, as if you didn’t feel anything from that kiss, you close the door to the black car whose engine was finally preparing to take off from the high school.

Kenji stands there, wordless, ears red not just from the kiss, but now from that… cute nickname.

“I’ll… see you.” He replies, raising his hand weakly, not caring if the rain still poured heavily on him.

It took a minute after the car left did he realise.. Wait, what was her name again?

“Wait. She knows my name. She knows my name—?” He must be the stupidest guy alive for not even asking anything about you… your number, or… or, or your damn name.

Kenji grasps his hair, berating himself inside for his stupid decisions. Of course, you know! He never asked yours because he resorted to calling you those cheesy pet names. He didn't think it would matter.

But then he kissed you and now, suddenly, he knows it matters so much.

Fuck.

Fuck!

The car was already driving away, and— and Ashley, who seemingly came out of nowhere for Kenji Sato whose mind was only running with thoughts of you and his stupidity, was talking about something, something getting her jealous and she knows, and—

Kenji doesn’t get to hear the rest of her statement as he begins running into the rain, trying to not lose sight of the car where you sat. Neither you whose face was currently buried in your hands, willing yourself to forget of the meaningless kiss, nor the driver who was focusing on the road ahead, was able to see the boy trying to catch up as the engine simply revs faster along the empty road.

He borrowed a bicycle just laying on the sidewalk, the owner, who looked away for a second, yelling at him.

“I’ll give it back, I promise!” Kenji yells as he tries to pedal through the storm like his life depended on it.

As he rides through the rain, he tries to yell after the car. “Wait, sweetheart, come back!”

“I didn’t do it because of her, I—” He heaves, losing his breath and feeling cold as the car goes faster, the rain falling heavier in turn; rumbles of thunder following suit.

I didn’t kiss you because she was there. Was what he wanted to say.

Could we keep in touch? Was what he wanted to ask.

Please pick a university close by. Was what he wanted. Really, really wanted. From you.

Kenji pedals harder, his muscles burning as he pushes against the heavy downpour. He can see the car’s taillights glowing dimly in the distance. He’s gaining on it. Just a little more…

“Sweetheart!” He yells out, his voice barely audible over the roaring storm. For a moment, he thinks he sees the car slow down, as if you heard him. His heart leaps with hope. He pushes harder, the distance between him and the car shrinking.

But just as he gets within a few yards of the car, it speeds up again, the taillights growing fainter. Kenji’s legs are screaming in protest, his lungs burning from the effort. He’s so close, yet so far.

He reaches out a hand, as if he could touch the car, as if he could make you hear him. But the rain obscures his vision, and the car speeds away, disappearing into the distance.

Kenji finally stops running, the bicycle falling to the ground as he bends over, trying to catch his breath. He’s soaked to the bone, every part of him aching, but the worst pain is in his chest.

In the distance, the car disappeared from view, taking you along with it.

“Sweetheart…” he whispers to himself, feeling the sting of regret seeping into his being.

Even with all his developing athletic might, Kenji Sato, who was still barely entering the cusps of his future stardom, could not catch up to his first crush. Thoughts forever unvoiced to the person that mattered enough for him when he was still a junior in high school.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was hard.

Kenji’s day would start at around 5 AM, and end… its end was dependent, really. He would feed the baby, research more about kaiju, study whatever form or strategy Coach Shimura would give, clean the baby's poop, entertain her, and generally stop her from lashing out. Then train and look stupid in this season's games because he wasn't getting some apt sleep. Sometimes it was paranoia that the baby would cry or need something, most of the time it's because the baby did cry and needed something.

Aside from his baseball, baby, and Ultraman responsibilities, there still was the unknown variable that was… well, you.

The half-kaiju human.

The giant mermaid.

You were silent a lot of the time, and often it would pass in Kenji's mind that you were either a ghost or a living fairytale. Maybe a witch cursed you and took away your voice, or maybe a witch cursed you and forced you to sleep for long periods of time. Because after you.. took that ice bath with him, you laid still in bed for the next two days.

Kenji would thank the damn heavens when you were awake, even for just a day before you slumbered for abnormal periods of time again. Whenever you were awake, the baby would be easier to tend to. Less hungry, more happy; she'll make grabby for you when you go down, and you’ll lay there, your head on the glass container as that familiar tune keeps the baby in a state of calm for the rest of the day. Often, you would forget to go back to the bedroom and Kenji would come home, sweaty from ball practice to see you asleep in the basement, the giant kaiju baby curled up where you were. Those were the days when you’d wake up when he wasn't home.

When you did wake up and he was home? Well, let's just say that Kenji… could never complain. He’ll get shit from his team and his Coach, but then he's home early that day and you just happen to be awake? You're bounding to him like a magnet on a metal pole. A warmth blanketing his chest, enough to let him sigh out his grievances for the day as he opens the front door and sees your happy face.

He may not understand what he's doing to make you feel overjoyed, but he'll take it. He’ll take it, like how he takes your simple pleas for a hug, like how he takes your face burying into his neck. And he’ll take your open arms, willing him to lay down in bed with you when all things are done, your hands combing through his hair as you coo the familiar sounds of the ocean in his ear. Maybe that's the reason why he’d always carry you back to his room when you fell asleep with Baby even though the guest room had been available for a while now.

“I have now gathered 3 weeks worth of data on the woman, Ken. Would you like the analysis?”

Ah.

Kenji grogs his way up from his bed, your arms back to laying limply, sliding down his naked torso; he preferred sleeping with no shirt on, and he would have been more embarrassed sleeping with a girl he didn't know if he wasn't sure that you were just.. an affectionate creature, person— still figuring that part out.

“Sure, go ahead, Mina.” He yawns, rubbing his eyes as he slouches on his mattress.

“Her last steady transformation into her kaiju form was the time when you took an ice bath with her. A significant difference in her injuries were found compared to her injuries the day before. However, it seemed to have slowed majorly since. Her body seems to prioritise external and surface-level injuries, however as is, she is having trouble truly healing her leg fractures in kaiju form. What I have gathered from my scans is that her severe tail fracture presents differently, or rather, not at all when she inevitably transforms back into her half-human self. She has attempted transformation a couple of times when in proximity of the baby, all of which only lasted less than 3 minutes.”

Kenji nods, taking it all in. However, he can't help but snort when the thought pops in his head. “So, what? I should take a bath with her again and see if that makes it better?”

The robot remains silent, and Kenji basks in the awkward bliss of forgetting that Mina is not exactly programmed to be the best buddy in terms of jokes landing.

“If you wish so, Ken.”

Kenji sputters at this, but he realises he might have been too loud as he looks back. Though futile, considering the information he just heard, you would probably be asleep for days even if he screamed all he wanted, considering your everlasting affection for him last night; the pattern was undeniable. The reminder of your comforting caresses sends an involuntary.. pleasurable shiver down his spine.

So Kenji, in turn, whisper-yells to Mina. “It was a joke!”

“Ha-ha.”

“I should tell dad to install a comedian chip in you.” He crosses his arms. “So? What should we do? We can't have her sleep forever. If we can get her up and going, raising the baby would be ten, no, a hundred times easier! Have you seen how much the baby likes her mama?”

“While she is not her biological mother, yes, I have observed the phenomenon. My theory is that she has connections with Gigantron prior.”

This makes Kenji perk up. “Really? How’d you know?”

“She has lingering scales and residue from the passed kaiju.”

“Wait..”

“No,” Mina immediately interjects. “I’ve discretely gotten samples from her tail when she transforms; quite easy to gather due to their wide difference in colour. I believe their relations are similar to the idea of companionship. They must have been friends. Especially considering Gigantron is oviparous and that they are both Female.”

Kenji lets out a sigh of relief that he didn't know he was holding. It was just.. an unpleasant thought. He didn't even see it as possible, considering your kaiju was a mermaid. But what did he know? That's why he was flipping textbook over textbook in hopes of understanding both you and the baby some more.

“On the course of that line of thinking, I am sure she's not taken, Ken. Rest assured. She, like Gigantron, seems to be the sole of her kind. And since she looks to be predominantly human, I doubt animals were attracted to her.”

“Okay, getting a little graphic here. I did not need to know any of that.” He shakes his head, putting his hand up towards the floating ball.

Today was a weekend, he just flunked his game again yesterday, and everything was going awful as it usually did. Until he went home and realised it was one of his lucky days. Slept like a baby last night, and today, he can sleep in because when you tuck the baby in, normal wake up time is moved. Plus, she won't fuss if Mina is to serve the school of fish for breakfast that day.

So now, as Kenji stretched his bare arms back, he looks to you and then back at Mina.

“So, how do we get her better?”

[...]

“I have deduced that water may be the primary factor in her physical healing process. Since she is waterborne, it could only be natural.” Mina explains, floating next to Kenji's shoulder as the man, dressed in only his sweats, carried you in his arms all the way to the tub in the bathroom this time.

“Alright, water makes her better.”

You, right now, kept to your iridescent appearance. However, your litter of scales and the webs between your fingers were disappearing. The only semblance left that Kenji would ever deem inhumane is how silky your skin was, much like your unusual hair, and eyes, if you opened them. His mind briefly flashes to when you got in the ice bath with him, when your features sheened a bit more natural than it usually was. A lot of questions lingered on Kenji's tongue.

“Remember when she healed me that night, Mina?”

The bot whirrs and affirms. “Yes. I remember your recount of it. Since I did not witness the act, I do not have much information. Perhaps her innate regenerative capabilities can be conducted. Did you notice anything strange at the time?”

Kenji thought hard. But who was he kidding? He went stupid the moment you dipped into the bath with him. He could've left but he didn't, not when you had him in this sort of.. chokehold. Finding himself wanting your affection, your acts of spoiling him, while he’ll have this forming desire to please you.

“...No.” He meekly replies, not really wanting to spare Mina any more details of the day; even though Kenji was sure that the AI knew he just melted into you that night the same way he would whenever you waked to coddle him and the baby… It just always seemed to work so well.

Kenji places you into the tub gently.

“Mina, one last thing before you handle the bath. Research more about my symptoms, tell me if you find anything, alright?”

“Yes, Ken.” Mina replies, allowing Kenji to walk out of the large bathroom as Mina undresses you from Kenji’s clothes, changed daily by the bot as well.

[...]

“I believe it is your body's natural response to avoid the physical pain you feel in your kaiju form.” Mina’s voice was slightly muffled by the closed door that led to the bathroom.

Kenji came barreling back in while preparing his special shake when he felt this inexplicable wrapping of panic in his chest. It's familiar, and he knows it's not his.

“Mina? What's going on?” His stern voice cuts through the whimpers and the soft cries in the bathroom.

“Ken.” Mina acknowledges his presence as his eyes dart to the tub.

You were about to transform to your kaiju. Slowly getting bigger. Kenji notices this, taking you away from the tub, as you slowly but surely developed your kaiju features with each whine from your lips.

“We gotta get her to the basement stat.” Kenji almost barks the order out, wide strides as he ran to the elevator.

“And the baby?”

“Baby will have to wait for a bit.” Kenji replies, tapping his foot as the elevator took him and Mina down. The pink kaiju still wrapped in her own self, dozing.

“Uhhh, water, right?” The elevator dings, and by now you were getting a little too big even for Kenji’s better strength. He doesn’t waste time transforming into his counterpart, allowing you to lay on his palms as you grew, and with your size, came your more prominent wounds.

“Open the water gates, Mina. And extend a platform around the window.”

By now, your tail was in full display and you size was enough for him to carry you in his arms while in Ultra. Your eyes still closed in pain as you let out soft, vulnerable cries. It grasps at Kenji’s heartstrings more than you’d ever know. Finally, Ken managed to get settled on the extended platform just on the other side of his wide underwater window, where the baby was slowly but surely rubbing her eyes awake.

“Mina, are you sure she’s okay?”

“She will become better when she is in water. It stimulates her natural DNA, she will heal faster there.” Mina assures.

Kenji nods slowly, eyes never leaving your forcefully closed ones. Your hands were clutching yours and his chest simultaneously. Looking closer across your scale-addled body, conveniently covering the swells of your breasts before lightly avoiding the area of your tummy, only to connect to your magnificent tail— that he notices only now, was bent in a slightly awkward shape. When he reaches out a hand to assess the damage, even the smallest touch made you jolt and open your eyes with downturned brows.

“Hi…” Kenji whispers. “Sorry… Uhm,” He never did call you much of anything, did he? So he blurts out the first thing that came to mind. “— Sweetheart. Did it hurt? Hm? It’s okay, you feel better here, right?”

Surprisingly, you nod, as if you understood him. The whimpers die down as you suck in a breath. Seems like you liked your little nickname.

“Good girl.” Kenji praises, and he feels that familiar blanket around his chest; joy. Oh, you liked that too? Could you actually understand? “Keep taking deep breaths, okay?”

Amidst the seawater where the island rocks and the school of fish would provide the blue atmosphere its renowned ambiance, you did something that actually did blow Kenji and quite possibly Mina’s, minds.

“Thank you.” You’d said.

Kenji would look at you, his Ultra’s glowing eyesight mixing with the bioluminescent glow of the water, aquamarine and sky blue against the monochromatic shades of blue from the once undisturbed waters.

“Kenji.” You’ll add, not breaking eyesight against the Ultra who held you close to his chest.

The man in question was speechless. Your voice catching him off guard, he’d heard it in small hums and coos, and cries— but now, you’ve actually said something. He was still unable to speak, but the yawn of the baby and the familiar shrieks as her tubby hands banged on the glass container to face you and Kenji, begging to be part of the circle.

“It seems the baby has awoken. What would you like to do, Ken?”

You notice this, and peer off his shoulder to look the baby in the eye. She pouts and cries, and your hand moves to beckon her over.

“Baby, come.” You said simply.

“Open the container, Mina, and let her out.” Kenji instructs, finally broken out of his self-induced trance.

When the AI does as it was told, the tiny pink kaiju, tiny in comparison to her step-in parents that is— had begun its steps out into the water, Kenji almost yelps as he forgot that the added extension didn’t reach the gates. Baby who didn’t know how to swim yet, made Kenji inwardly panic when she sank for even a quarter of a second. All before she seemed to be wrapped in a bubble of water that made her float all the way to both you and him, with it popping so she landed in between the closed space of yours and Kenji’s torsos.

She squeaked happily.

It was almost what one could consider a picture-perfect family moment. And Mina was sure to capture the moment in question; if not but to send it to Professor Sato. Taking a vial of a sample from the now luminescent water was also one of Mina’s agendas, which she does discreetly.

“You can talk?” Kenji asks once you three got settled, with papa being the carrier of the brunt. He's deeply fascinated.

“How?”

[...]

Two weeks had passed since Kenji and Mina found out that you were able to understand and communicate because you were listening in to both him and the AI in your sleep or the few times you’ve been awake. Since then, the routine changed up once again, now that you were more frequently awake.

You still couldn’t do complicated schedules, but there were a mix of positive and negative setbacks, as all things are. The most positive side is that you’re there now for the baby, you’re eager to learn from Mina who’d play you educational videos or give you books to read after you relearnt your basic language, of course. And life seems to be doing slightly better for Kenji now that you were truly taking on the mom role.

“Well done, Sato.” His coach grunts, arms crossed. “Your plays suddenly got better this week. Whatever you're doing, don't mess up like last times.”

Now, you might be wondering: Okay, so what's the downside?

Dishes cluttered as sounds of footsteps throttling wake Kenji up in the middle of the night. And if he hones his listening, sounds of a left-open TV show and some uncontrolled laughter was coming from the living room. He’d move his arm to pat the— you guessed it— empty space beside him.

Of course you were still up.

When your hunger bout started the same day that you began taking regular rests in the seawater platform by the basement, Kenji taught you that there was food more delicious than Baby's diet. Which was raw, slimy, uncooked, alive fish.

So, he started you with the next best thing: Sushi.

“See? Better than raw— better than live fish, right? Mmmm~” Kenji watches as you take hold of a roll cautiously, looking at him with an unsure face.

You were so enamoured by the taste. So much so, it was endearing at first. He says at first because he didn't know he just unlocked a major foodie within you. You're morbidly curious, and you have an insane appetite. Mina had to work double-time to answer all your questions once you got started on your Language lessons.

Do these little… creatures—

“Ants.” Kenji inserts for you.

“Do they have feelings? If I take away this grain of sugar, will they get angry? Sad?” Your way of speech was still… developing, clearly. You tended to speak more formally because of the educational material.

He wishes he can read your thoughts to that extent, but he’s stuck with… whatever you did right now.

Sometimes, he’d feel when you were happy, most of the time it would be when he opens the front door; your bare feet pit-a-patting on the solid ground of his private home before you jump in his arms. He’d feel when you’re sad, whenever a favourite character from whatever TV show seems to get sick, or worse, die.

Oh, he’d feel you sad, alright.

He’d have to deal with it in bed when you’re wetting the pillowcases with your tears and small sobs. Rarely does he feel you getting mad. The only other time he can remember is when he brought the baby home with him the first time.

And all those little things. The distance doesn’t seem to matter, he’ll feel a distinct mirror of what you did permeate through his chest. He won’t know from what, but he’d be left to speculate whenever Coach Shimura scolding him, or his teammates were talking behind his back for his recently shitty performance. It was a nice distraction, and since, he notices, that your most common emotion seems to be happy, it lightens him up. Wait, what was he saying again?

Aside from that, scratch a good half of what he said— if you considered your massive amounts of food intake, there was the issue of you actually eating. It was a hefty job teaching you table manners and Kenji was running out of shirts.

“Minaaaa,” Kenji calls out with an exasperated tone, bounding into the living room, hair messy and body heavy with you clinging on to his form like a backpack while giggling.

“I am running out of clothes to wear. We need to get her,” He points to you and bite his finger lightly. “—her own things.”

“Of course, Ken.”

“And you,” He jumps, and your hold around his neck tightens, much like your legs around his torso. “Get off!”

It’s a minute of Kenji trying to get you to let go of him, with you eluding his touches to the side of your stomach that he recently found out you’ve grown ticklish to.

“Ohoh, you want to make this difficult, princess?”

“But I do not want to!!! Stop!! Stop— HAHAH— Noooooo!!!”

He managed to tackle you to the couch as your laughs and heaving wheezes filled the air; not noticing that he started laughing along, hands unyielding from trying to rub over the sides of your sensitive stomach.

“Ken, I apologise for interrupting such a precious moment, but what in particular do you wish for me to order for her?”

Snapping out of his daze, he’s suddenly made aware of how he was leaning down on you; shirtless. You wore one of his dark blue long-sleeved shirts along with his boxers, shirt slightly riding up, the other slowly riding down in contrast. Your legs were loosely resting around his waist with you still looking up the ceiling while you tried to catch your breath. And when your eyes meet his, it feels like his heart jumped to his throat, his nerves getting the best of him made him immediately jump off the couch.

Kenji clears his throat, hand on his hip while turning away from you to respond to Mina who he dearly hopes does not make another comment about—

“Your temperature is rising. Shall we continue this discussion another time? You might develop a fever.”

“Aha, no, Mina.” He saves face. “I’m fine, I’m not sick. It’s just— it’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Sick? Fever?” You pipe up as you begin walking slowly towards Kenji who flinches as he senses your oncoming presence. “You are sick, Kenji? I have seen characters become sick on TV. Are you going to die? Kenji!?”

Your hands were gripping his shoulders so tightly with every word, your face scrunched in so much worry as if he had Stage 4 Cancer. You started shaking him haphazardly in your bouts.

“Answer me!”

“You are not allowed to die!”

“Come to the water with me. I must heal you. Immediately.”

Kenji, a little dazed from the back and forth of your earlier shaking, finally finds a reply when you determined that you can most likely heal him, moving to drag him to the bathroom; presumably back in the bath tub.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, sweetheart. Calm down.” Your tight grip on his hand reminds him of another fact that he and Mina has learned.

Somehow, you’re able to retain a semblance of your kaiju strength in half-human form. He finds this out in an instant when he tried to deny you ramyeon once when you were still prone to tantrums. Kenji hisses when you let go of his right wrist, his other quickly rubbing against the area on instinct.

“Oh no, did I… hurt you?” You say, timidly. A wild contrast from your earlier and regular demeanour. Another thing he noticed is that apart from you being extremely clingy with him, you.. oddly care for him; what he thinks, how he’s feeling.

Kenji sighs and pats your head right after. “No, princess, I’m all good. No bruises, see? It’s okay.” He reassures you, remembering that last time when you found out you injured him, you bawled and apologised for the whole night.

“I’m okay.” He pinches your cheek to get you to look at him, knowing that you’re beating yourself up in your head. If your sudden silence wasn’t enough of an indicator, he didn’t know what is.

“Ah, Mina, so about her stuff…” Ken starts, looking back after sensing the presence of the AI bot silently hovering behind him. “Just get her whatever essentials you think she needs and might need.”

“Got it, Ken. As for her clothes, will we have a set budget? Preferred brands?”

“You kidding? Just buy anything. Whatever’s popular these days.” Kenji shrugs as he looks down at you who was trying to dissect their conversation. He’ll look down from his shirt to your bare feet.

“Shoes, sleepwear,” Kenji tries to list.

“How about her underwear, Ken?” Okay, at this point, the robot was probably teasing him.

Kenji sputters, feeling heat crawl up to his face again. Of course, why didn’t he think of that?

“I was just about to say it, Mina.” He sassily remarks.

“Any preferred design?” Okay, at this point, the robot was definitely teasing him.

“Shut up.” He spares you a glance and you simply looked clueless. Thank God.

When screeches started to emanate from the basement, all three of you perked up. But you suddenly cut them off. “Oh! Baby!”

“I will go down.” You offered, not really giving them respite as you cheerfully jogged to the elevator.

This brings up another topic for both Kenji and Mina.

“Soon, we will be able to ask her about Kaiju Island.”

“Uhuh,”

“What are your thoughts about it, Ken?”

“I mean… it would be convenient to know the place. But even if we do, we can’t just leave the baby and her there alone. Without a mom, the baby would die.” And…

“Of course.” The bot responds with a tone that suggests she knew that Kenji wanted to say more.

“And we can’t just leave her in Kaiju Island now. It’s just— we haven’t found a case yet, and I’m still practising for baseball… you know?”

We can deal with it off season, a hidden voice within a deep compartment in his brain says.

“I perfectly understand, Ken.” Still with that cheeky tone. For a robot, Mina can get quite expressive, much to Kenji’s dismay.

Kenji groans, ignoring the bot’s teasing while running a hand through his morning hair.

“Have all her things delivered by tomorrow or as early as possible to the drop-off point so I can pick it up in my car after practice. And help her understand how some things work, I know she’ll be confused with… some stuff.”

The robot hums. “I have a suggestion as well, Ken. I believe if our goal is to help identify her and get her acclimated to human society, it would be best if she knew places outside of the house. And perhaps other people outside of—”

“Outside of me?” Kenji squints, crossing his arms. “What are you suggesting?”

“If you want to expand the possibility of her regaining her old memories by chance, if our theory is correct that she was a past human — based on the articles that dated first sighting of her three years ago— then it would be helpful if she is reminded of the society she grew up in. And she might develop her original traits more if she interacts with other people in a controlled , yet natural environment.”

Kenji remained silent. He knew Mina was right, but… “I don’t know… It’s still a little risky.”

However, it is true that Kenji feels a little bad now that he thinks about it. How you were also feeling indebted enough to take care of a baby that wasn’t your own, while he and Mina occasionally wrote notes and shared minute observations about you like you were a lab rat…

“Okay, fine. I’ll take her to Roppongi once I’m free, she’ll probably love the food there. Lots of people.” He shrugs, walking backwards to his room as he faces the hovering bot.

Taglist: @moonjellyfishie @mochminnie @lovingyeet @vrxouei @secretyna @misdollface @emosakumas @bol0-de-morang0 @n4muqr @blooscool

#ken sato #ken sato x reader #kenji sato #kenji sato x reader #ultraman #ultraman emi #ultraman ken #ultraman rising

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2smolbeans · 10 months

Text

Yandere Asmodeus x Cupid Mc

A/N: This was unedited and scrambled. I might add on to this in the future- but for now this is just some brain rot lol. If anyone wants to add on or use this idea for themselves, feel free! Just give me credit ^^

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Cupid! Mc who would spend centuries doing their duties as a cupid, walking amongst the human world and influcing the feeling of love amongst people.

Cupid! Mc, who was the cupid of Eros, often pondered if demons could ever fall in love. Love is a natural feeling, whether it be platonic, romantic, or familial - so could the worst of the worst feel something genuine like that?

Cupid! Mc was curious when they heard about the exchange program for angels, demons, and humans to get along. Maybe they would get to meet new creatures alike!

Cupid! Mc, who decided to apply to the program out of pure wonder if a creature who was neither angelic, demonic, or human could join the Royal Academy of Diavolo.

Cupid! Mc who often found themselves the main attraction of the school. Somehow, always finding a group of demons staring at them with malicious intent.

Cupid! Mc who somehow found themselves befriending a group of incubi and sucubi. It was eye-opening meeting a bunch of beings who were the polar opposite of you. Regardless, they helped you around while they bombarded you with questions.

Cupid! Mc, after staying in devildom for years, would eventually be introduced to the king of lust himself, Asmodeus. With the personification of love being in hell, of course, the personification of lust would come along.

Asmodeus! Who would rush at you with exciment, stating how he's it's been a while since he's encountered a cupid and asked how your goddess the "Bitchy jealous Aphrodite" was doing.

Asmodeus! Who would always stick by your side, claiming how a dove like you should be careful in hell. Generously offering to be your tour guide while he showered you with companionship.

Asmodeus! As the king of lust, was surprisingly modest with you. To your surprise, he was in no rush to get in between your pants but rather trying his hardest to keep his reputation with you on a good note.

Asmodeus! Who you soon got to know as a close friend was a selfish individual. Casually sleeping with those left and right while breaking hearts along the way simply because he was bored.

Cupid! Mc, who doesn't expect much from the avatar of lust just simply accepts him for who he is. They don't understand why lust is so tempting for someone.. Regardless, they simply turn the other way and continue to treat Asmodeus as a friend.

Cupid! Mc, who begins to find themselves closer with Asmodeus. No longer seeing them just as the avatar of lust - but a trustworthy friend they could gossip with and someone to go to advice.

Asmodeus! Who is conflicted about how he feels about Mc begins to question them and their relationship. After all, someone always wants something..

_____________________

"Why are you still here with me? I'm not trying to be pretentious or anything, but..I'm..Well y'know? Isn't that enough to drive you away?"

"No..Not really. I mean I know what you are, and I know what you've done. You can't help it! It's just who you are"

"W-Well, yeah..I guess. But you're okay with that?"

"Ruining people's lives, preying on innocent people. No. Of course not! But, you've been good to me, and I think that's the best you've done. Why? Aren't you usually like 'Oh! Well they deserved it!' Or 'Meh, sucks to be them'?"

"I mean yeah! They were asking for it. It's not like I directly ruined their lives. They came to me first! But you..Aren't you disgusted of me?"

"No, actually not at all. I get it. We're similar actually. Constantly chasing a high that only someone can give us..Yeah?"

"Yeah..You..You get me"

________________________

Asmodeus! Who gained a new perspective about you eversince that conversation begins to feel..Anxious about you. He's never felt this way, and he hates it. He's never felt so insecure about his relationship with someone.

Asmodeus! Who begins to scratch at his skin whenever he sees you talk amongst other demons. Jealousy..He's never felt it before with others.. Why was it with you?

Asmodeus! Who wants to get rid of this awful feeling, sleeps around with whoever he can find. Trying to distract himself from you plauging his mind. But no matter what, it never helped..

Asmodeus! Who slowly loses his mind whenever you speak your mind. When was the last time someone spoke to him without wanting something? If you were to leave, would he ever have that again?

Asmodeus! Who slowly reveals his ugly flaws around you. He's slowly falling at the seems with his alienated feelings towards you..

Asmodeus! Who finally snaps under the pressure of his internal struggle decides to do something about it. His solution? Keeping you locked up until he figures out what you are to him and what he wants with you.

Asmodeus! Who sweetly smiled at you, wrapping his arms around your waist while cooing those words that seemed to mush inside your head.

Asmodeus! Who had successfully lulled you inside his room keeps you locked up in a nice set of chains.

Asmodeus! Who reveals himself to be a desperate and emotionally starved demon, whines for your attention and affection. Threatening to clip off your wings whenever you ignore him, blaming you for bewitching him to fall in love with you. That's what it was, right?!

Asmodeus! Who after pulling you into a kiss realises what you are to him. You're more than just a typical hookup or 'partner'. You were someone he genuinely loved. Which was embarrassing him to admit since he always believed:

"Love and lust cannot mix. Literally, I'm not capable of it. No matter how much someone treats me good, unfortunately for them, I won't fall in love. Hell, I don't think I've ever had an actual butterflies in my stomach crush for anyone!"

Asmodeus! Even though obessed and greedy for your attention- it is pathetically starved for your approval. He won't push any moves on you, but he'll constantly shower you with kisses, self care, and gifts just to see you contempt!

(Annd that's all I have. I'm too sick to write anything else. But I have a lot of thoughts about these two! So I'll add more in the future)

_____________________________

#yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere prompt #yandere headcanons #yandere asmodeus #yandere obey me headcanons #yandere obey me x reader #yandere obey me #obey me yandere #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus x mc #I'm sickkk ahdbjdwidnn #But i can see these two being chill and lowkey with each other #asmodeus ranting about his worries and annoyances of being the ruler of lust #and Mc complaining how people suck at romance #Mc probably has ranted to asmodeus about those 'Tik tok' gurus #and asmodeus just dies laughing lmaoo

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bloatedandalone04 · 11 months

Text

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 0.2

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which anakin returns home from the band meeting with some exciting information about his future while you also receive some news regarding your own.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 5.6k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

It was nearing eight when Anakin finally returned home. You look up at him from your place on the new couch when he enters the living room, a small smile on your lips when he meets your eye. “Y/n,” he rasped as he braced his hands on either side of the doorframe. “That was a lot longer than I expected it to be. I’m sorry.”

Shrugging, you place your phone next to you on the couch and gesture for him to come over. “It’s alright, I figured it must be something important if your manager was keeping you,”

He walks further into the room and eyes the dark velvet couch. “When did this come?”

“A few hours after you left,” you answer as he sits next to you. “It came with a coffee and side table, but the delivery guys couldn’t put them together for me. I told them my boyfriend would.” You give him a teasing grin and he shakes his head.

“Yeah, alright,” he mumbles and leans back. “I’ll have one of the guys come over tomorrow or something and we’ll put together all the new furniture.”

You nod and move closer to him. “Okay,” you trace your fingers up and down his arm that didn’t have any tattoos at all and debate on whether or not you should tell him that you ended up sending in an application to that school in London. If you told him now then didn’t get in, you’d be embarrassed, but then again, you knew he would never let you feel embarrassed about anything, so what the hell. “I sent an application in for that program.”

Anakin lifts his head and looks over at you. “For the one in London?” He asks and you nod. He gives you a somewhat forced smile and reaches over to lace his fingers with yours. “That’s great, baby. You’ll get accepted, you’re too smart not to.”

You grin and press a kiss to the back of his hand. “Still down for coming with me?” He stiffened a bit then tried to play it off, but you caught onto it. “What? Did you change your mind?”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s not that. London would be so fucking fun to go to with you, but I’m not sure I’d actually be able to,”

You furrow your brows. “Why not?”

He looks conflicted for a second before finally meeting your eyes as he sits up straight. “Helena says we’ve been given a few extra locations to perform at. They’ve been added to the tour, basically,”

You give him a confused look. “But the tour is over. It has been for months,”

“I know, but it’s been extended as of the end of this month,” he says and you break eye contact in order to stare at the floor in slight shock.

“They can do that?”

“I guess so,” he mumbled. “She also wants us to record more songs as soon as we’ve got a draft ready. Something about needing to keep the hype alive and to get people excited for the new tour locations.”

You nod slowly and turn back to face him, giving him a weary expression. “So, what does that mean? You’re going back on tour?”

Anakin shrugs sadly. “Yeah, in a few weeks,” he confirms and runs his thumb over your knuckles. “But I don’t want this to affect your decision of going to that school, okay? I want to go with you, and I want you to come with me, but I also want you to do this for yourself. You’ve worked too hard to not give it a try.”

A silence passes over the two of you for a few seconds as you try to process everything.

Anakin was going on tour again, and you had just applied for the writing program. He wanted you to go with him, but he also wanted you to go to London. The course would only be a few months, so you wouldn’t be away from him for too long, but it still didn’t make it any easier.

“I might not even get in,” you remind him and move so you’re pressed against his side. “And I want to go with you. Who else will silently cheer you on from backstage?”

He pulls you tight against him and kisses the side of your head. “Hopefully no one,” he says. “Your spot backstage is just that, yours. It’s no one else’s….even if you can’t come with me this time.”

You hum and fist his shirt in your hand. “We’ll just have to see what happens,”

After you and Anakin spend the rest of the night on the couch and in each other’s arms, you end up heading to bed at one in the morning. It was nearing ten when you pulled yourself out of the empty bed and made your way down the hall, pausing as you passed by the living room.

Anakin is busy hooking up the TV as you lean against the doorframe, eyeing his shirtless torso. “Wow, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” you tease and watch as he turns to look over at you.

“Wow, look who got up after me for once,” he teased back as he hooked up the HDMI cord.

“I know, I’m surprised, too,” you say and push off the frame. “Why are you up so early, anyway?”

Anakin plugs the TV cord into the wall before pulling you into his side and pressing a kiss to your lips. “Vin called me a while ago,” he answered. “I answered it before it woke you up, too, and I couldn’t fall asleep after that. Figured I’d get a start on hooking this up.”

He gestured to the TV and you nodded, nuzzling closer to him. “Is he coming over later?”

“Yeah, him and Theo,” he said. “We’re going to write a bit after putting together the coffee table and your shelf, that was the deal I made with them.”

You shake your head and laugh. “Now that is not surprising,”

He laughs and sets the cord down to give you his full attention. “Hey, have you heard back from that program yet? Did you check your email for any follow ups?”

Your smile drops a bit as you shake your head. “No,” you answer.

Anakin gives you a small grin as he presses a kiss to your temple. “I bet you had the best application that school has ever seen,” he hypes you up and it helps more than he probably knew. You were smiling by the time he added, “You’ll hear back soon, I’m sure, and with good news.”

You grin and he kisses you again, much deeper than the last one. It made it hard to pull away from, but you somehow managed to so you could go make something to eat.

As you wait for the stove to heat up so you can make pancakes, you go on Instagram and immediately let out a scream at the first post that showed up in your feed. At the sound of your scream, Anakin practically sprints into the kitchen and looks around as if scanning the room for any sign of immediate danger. “What? What’s wrong?”

You look up at him and meet his eye as you say, “You, you’re what’s wrong,”

Anakin gives you a confused look as he takes your phone from you when you shoved it into his hand. He hesitantly takes his eyes off you in order to find out what made you scream like that, and almost immediately felt his face heat up at what he was met with on your phone. “I…oh,”

“When the fuck did you get those taken? And why the fuck didn’t you give me a warning so I could’ve mentally prepared myself to see that?”

Anakin’s lips sport an embarrassed smile as he hands your phone back to you. “I didn’t realize that they were posting those today,” he says, referring to the photos from the shoot he did during his last week on tour. He was called in for a quick interview with SLACKERS Magazine and had a couple pictures taken to go with the interview, but he completely forgot about it until now.

It was done on the day you were stuck in the bus with food poisoning, so you really had no idea he had even done this, and he probably should have given you a heads up, but he genuinely just forgot. The photo that was on the cover was one of him shirtless and covered in mud, and he was surprised that he actually had a lot of fun taking those pictures. That was his first time on a photoshoot set, and he knew it wouldn’t be his last.

“You didn’t realize? What the fuck, Ani! You look hot,” you gushed over him as you scrolled through the pictures again. “You really need to make an Instagram account so you can post these. Imagine all the likes you’d get.”

He instantly shot that idea down. “Not a chance,”

“Oh, come on, Ani, it’s fun! You can read all the sappy captions I’ve written about you over the past four years,” you teased and he just laughed.

“That’s tempting,” he shook his head with a smile and pressed a quick kiss to your mouth. “I’ll think about it.”

You playfully roll your eyes and push on his chest. “Don’t be such an old man and get Instagram,”

He softly glared at you. “I said I’d think about it,” he called out as he left the kitchen in order to get the TV working before the guys came over.

“Quit being such an old man and make an account,” Vinny mumbled as he scribbled down a potential lyric onto a page of the notebook in front of him.

Anakin sits up straight, pausing the flicking of his pencil as he looks over at his friend. “You’re the second person that called me an old man today,” he says and ignores the quiet laugh that leaves Theo from his spot on the ottoman. “Y/n called me that, too.”

Vinny shrugged, looking up from the notebook. “She’s not wrong, man,” he replied and tossed the book aside so he could lean back on the couch. “You’re missing out, that’s all. Our band’s account has over three million followers now, and I bet you had no idea.”

Anakin’s eyes widen in shock as he sets his own notebook down. “Seriously? Three million?” He asks and both Vinny and Theo nod at him. “Y/n updates me sometimes, but we were barely at two million the last time she told me.”

Vinny shrugged again and leaned over to sip on his beer. “That was probably before we released Sugar,” he thought out loud. “That song did really well and gave us a lot of exposure on TikTok.”

Smirking, Anakin looks away before he slipped up and told the guys what inspired him to write that song - as if the lyrics weren’t enough of a giveaway. A month before moving to this apartment, Anakin went down on you in the middle of packing and was instantly hit with a song idea after he got you off. He even postponed your offer of a round two in order to scribble out a draft of the song.

He refined it a week later and got the guys to add whatever they wanted to it, and a few weeks after that it was released.

The song was very obviously about going down on a girl, more specifically, you, and he supposed that was enough to get them trending on that dumb app once again.

“We should add Sugar to the setlist,” Theo suggested as he strummed the strings on his bass.

Anakin perked up at that as he dropped the book onto the coffee table he and Vinny put together an hour or so ago and pulled out his phone. “That’s a great idea,” he agreed and knew that would probably be his new favorite song to perform live. He scrolled through the app store and muttered something under his breath before installing Instagram.

After messing around with the app for a bit, he had made his username ‘anakin_skywalker’ and uploaded a photo you took of him when he was looking out the window of the tour bus a few months back as his profile picture. He browsed through his gallery before settling on a selfie of the two of you he took on the last day of tour. You were both smiling and squinting at the camera as you tried to block the sun from your eyes, and it was probably one of his favorite photos of you and him.

He made that picture his first post with the caption being a simple red heart.

Anakin was still shocked to see that the band’s account did, in fact, have over three million followers when he followed it himself, as well as Vinny, Theo and you. Once he’s done stalking your account and scrolling through all the photos of you he had never seen before, he sets his phone down and that is when he hears the door to the bedroom open and the sound of fast paced footsteps coming down the hall.

“Anakin! You made an account!” You cheer as you throw yourself onto his lap. “I knew you’d give in.”

He rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Not really, I just wanted to see if we really did hit three million followers. Thanks for telling me, by the way,”

“Oh, whatever,” you scoffed and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Your first post is us! I love that picture.”

Anakin grinned down at you. “Me too, princess,” he kissed you quickly. “But I’m a bit annoyed that I had to put a stupid underscore in my username. Seriously, who the fuck took ‘anakinskywalker’ when that’s literally the most unique name ever?”

“Fan account, probably,” Vinny answered before waving at you. “Hey, Y/n. Will we be blessed to have you join us on tour again?”

You tense a bit in Anakin’s arms, something you’re sure he noticed but didn’t say anything about, thankfully. “Maybe. I applied for this program thing that is set around the same time the tour starts,”

“Ah,” Vinny nods and smiles at you. “That’s cool.”

“It’s very cool,” Anakin corrects him as he slides one hand up to caress the back of your head. “My girl’s the smartest one out of all of us combined.”

Theo tilts the neck of his beer bottle in your direction. “Now that’s very true,” he smiled at you and you shook your head, wrapping one arm around your boyfriend’s shoulders.

“You think too highly of me, all of you,” you brush off their words and stand up. Anakin reluctantly lets you go and leans back against the couch, eyeing the small tattoo on the side of your wrist as you look at your phone. “Wow, Ani, you’ve already got nineteen thousand followers.”

“Fuck,” he laughed and looked at your screen when you showed him. “Is it too late to delete it now?”

“Yes,” you confirm and lean down to place a chaste kiss to his mouth. “So don’t bother.”

Anakin tries to pull you back onto his lap, but you just grin at him before pulling away completely and shoving your phone in your pocket.

“I’ll leave you guys to continue writing and go get dinner,” you say and begin to back out of the room “Any requests?”

“Get Chinese food,” Theo suggests, adding a quick “Please” once he saw the glare Anakin gave him at his demanding words to you.

You laugh and lightly slap Anakin’s shoulder, instantly making his glare soften. “Be nice, it’s okay,” you murmur. “Chinese food it is. I’ll be back soon.”

Anakin watched your retreating form until you disappeared around the corner and left through the door. When he turned back to the guys, he found them smirking at him. “Dude, you are so whipped,” Vinny laughed as he picked up his notebook.

Anakin rolled his eyes. “As if I wasn’t already aware of that,”

“How will you make it without her if she does this program thing?” Theo asks, making Anakin look over at the blond.

He really hadn’t thought about it, simply because he didn’t want to imagine going on tour without you there to cheer him on from backstage. He wanted you to do this program and wanted you to make a career out of it, but he also wanted you with him every day.

For nearly five years he hadn’t spent longer than a week away from you, and that was including all the times he had to sneak you into his parents house back when you were both seventeen.

He couldn’t imagine spending more than a couple months without you. In fact, he was sure he physically couldn’t be away from you for that long. “I don’t know,” he answered as honestly as he could, not wanting to come off as even more whipped for you. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

The guys just nod and go back to writing lyrics and notes, leaving Anakin to get lost inside his own head as he thought about the very real possibility of having to be without you in a few weeks.

A week goes by and Anakin has yet to see what the hype about Instagram is.

He had over five hundred thousand followers now and still only one post, and even that had over three hundred thousand likes. He really only went on it to do exactly what you knew he would, which is to read your sappy but very romantic captions about him.

Your latest one was probably his favorite so far, and it was a harsh dig at him.

Y/nY/l/n: my 21 year old bf finally got ig and already has more followers than me and i’ve been here for seven years. seven. years. let that sink in, show off. you can delete it now.

The picture was one of you and him on the couch, both your tongues sticking out and hazy looks in your eyes.

He had to laugh because you both looked high, despite neither of you ever touching a drug a day in your lives. Alcohol, on the other hand…well that’s a different story.

“Maybe making an Instagram account was a bad idea,” Vinny commented as he looked over at Anakin from his place on the chair. “The dude won’t stop stalking his girlfriend’s account even though he lives with her.”

“What did you expect? More than half our songs are about Y/n,” Theo added and Anakin just shook his head and pocketed his phone.

“You’d be the same way if you landed yourselves a girl like her,” was all he said as he sat up in his own chair.

“Hey, Clara is amazing, too,” Vinny defended his girlfriend, but there was no doubting that yours and Anakin’s relationship is a lot stronger than his and Clara’s. “And Theo is just a lost cause.”

Theo stuck his middle finger up as the two other guys laughed. “Thanks, asshole,” he mumbled as he looked back down at his phone.

Vinny narrowed his eyes. “You’ve been looking at that all morning, man,” he points out. “Is everything okay?”

Anakin, too, noticed Theo’s recent phone obsession, but isn’t as vocal as Vinny is about that kind of thing, clearly. Vinny had no problem calling people out, and Anakin had to appreciate it to an extent, because he had been called out by him more times than he could count on one hand. It saved his ass many times when he got into disagreements with you and Vinny was the one who told him he needed to apologize.

Theo sighed and placed his phone on the coffee table. “It’s my mom,” he said as he crossed his arms. “She’s been feeling really sick lately and my sister and I are getting pretty worried about her.”

“Damn,” Vinny said under his breath, suddenly feeling bad about calling out his friend now.

“Is she okay? Should you be going back on tour right now with her feeling sick?” Anakin asked as he leaned over and braced his elbows on his knees.

“She’s just not well, man,” Theo shrugged. “I told her about the tour and she said that I should go have fun and that Mary can look after her while I’m gone.”

Anakin nods and shares a look with Vinny. “We can ask Helena if we can push the tour back a few more months,” Vinny offers, but Theo just shook his head.

“No, it’s alright,” he waved his bandmates off. “I want to go back on tour. It’ll take my mind off it.”

“Okay,” Anakin said and leaned back in the chair. “Just keep us updated.”

Theo nodded as he asked, “Where is Helena, anyway?”

Vinny shrugged and leaned back. “She’s usually on time, so whatever is keeping her must be important,”

As if on cue, the door to the lounge opens and in walks their manager, done up in dress pants and a blouse. Her heels are loud against the floor as she makes her way over to them, a smile on her painted red lips and a folder in her hand. “Sorry, boys,” she apologizes as she sits next to Theo around the coffee table. “Traffic is no joke in this part of the city.”

Anakin laughs in agreement as he, too, got held up earlier this morning but still managed to make it to the studio by ten in the morning. “No worries, we get it,”

She gives him a grateful smile as she places her papers onto the table and leans over to scatter them around. “Okay, so you all know that you’re the first band I’ve ever managed, so we’re really learning how to do this together,” she starts, looking up at the three of them. “I was thinking that we need to do something to promote the shows that have been added. The tour ended a couple months ago, and I’m sorry to say this, but Sugar can only get us so far. It was a hit, yeah, but the fans need more. I’m really going to need you guys in the studio and making more music than you have so far. If you want to keep doing this for many years to come, we need more songs out by the time the next tour comes around.”

The thought of not singing or making music in the future was one Anakin didn’t want to think about, so he quickly pushed back his witty remarks and sat up even straighter, giving Helena his full attention as she began to go over a possible option for promo.

You were at home alone and bored as Anakin had been whisked away to yet another band meeting.

You were organizing your books when your phone went off from its place on the desk. Standing up from your crouched position and pushing away the box of hard covers, you grab your phone and click on the notification. It brought you to your email and your eyes widened a bit when you read the subject.

Y/n, Congratulations!

Your hand was shaking a bit as you clicked on the email and read the first sentence.

Dear Y/n,

We are thrilled to congratulate you on your acceptance into the Writing Program here at the Dun-Walsh Academy.

You nearly dropped your phone as you read through the email about ten times before it really hit you.

You did it. You got accepted. You did it.

You squeal a bit and jump up and down on the spot while hugging your phone to your chest, wishing that Anakin would hurry up and come home so you could share the news with him.

Anakin.

You stopped jumping instantly as you remembered that he is going on tour again in a couple of weeks and wouldn’t be able to go with you to London like he wanted to.

“Shit,” you curse to yourself as you read the email again.

You wanted to attend this school a lot more than you initially thought, but you also didn’t want to go without Anakin. You wanted to go on tour with him again and be his quiet cheerleader backstage.

“Fuck,” you curse again and walk out of the shared office and into the living room. Sitting down on the couch and picking at your nails, you debate your options.

One; go to London, take the program and miss out on Anakin’s tour.

Or,

Two; bail on the program and go on tour with him.

You were missing out on something either way.

There will be other writing opportunities, right?

As awful as it sounds, you would rather choose Anakin over your own future, and that was a scary thought, but it was true.

You were sitting there for about fifteen minutes before the door swung open and the sound of footsteps was heard. “Baby?” Anakin called out and you sat up a bit and set your phone aside.

“In the living room,” you called back and watched as your boyfriend entered the room not even a second later. “Hi.”

“Hey, pretty girl,” he said back as he leaned down to place a deep kiss to your mouth. He caressed your face as he pulled you back in for another quick peck before grinning down at you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you,”

He smiled again and moved to sit next to you. “What’d you get up to today?”

You shrugged and picked up your phone again. “Nothing too exciting,” you answer. “Just sorted through a few more boxes.”

Anakin nodded and ran the tips of his fingers along the skin of your bare thigh. Your shorts did nothing to cover your legs from his intense gaze, and you swallow harshly as he mumbles a “That’s good,” in his deep, raspy voice. He leaned in to kiss you again, a much deeper one than before, and you moan quietly against his mouth. He hummed as he pulled away, “I love that sound.”

“Some would say you love it so much that you would put it in a song,” you teased, referring to the fact that he did include a recording of your moan in a song.

He shrugged, smirking at you as he said, “The world needed to hear how hot you sound in bed,”

“Mhm, sure,”

Anakin shrugged again before dropping the smirk a bit and moving to hold your hand in his. “Something’s on your mind,” he commented, lacing your fingers together and resting your joined hands on his thigh. “What is it?”

You knew he would be able to read you like an open book as soon as he returned home, so you didn’t bother hiding how you were feeling from him. “I heard back from that school,” you say and watch as he nods, urging you to continue. “I got accepted.”

Anakin stays still as his eyes flicker all over your face. His hand tightened around yours just slightly as he exhaled through his nose before smiling over at you. “I knew you would,” he brought your hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I’m so proud of you.”

Unable to stop yourself, you move so you’re straddling him and his hands are on your hips instantly. “But you’re going back on tour,” you point out. “You can’t come with me to London.”

Anakin gives you a forced smile. “We’ll figure it out,” he assured you, but it didn’t help much. “Yeah, I’m going on tour, but that’s my future. This is yours.”

You bite down on your lip as you process his words. “But we’ve never been away from each other for that long,” you nearly whisper. “Not since we were in high school.”

“It’s okay, baby,” he promised, kissing your forehead. “We’ll be fine, we always are. It’s only a few months, and I think Helena said that one of the new tour locations is in London, so you can come see that one. I’ll need my biggest fan at one of the shows, at least.”

You nod and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I’ll give it up for you,” you murmured. “You know that.”

“I know you would,” he responds and pulls you against his chest. “And I love you for that, but I can’t hold you back from making a potential career out of this. I couldn’t, not after you’ve been so supportive of me and the band.”

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder. “We have two weeks until the tour,” you inform him. “Two weeks until I need to be in London.”

Anakin pulled you even closer, inhaling your sweet vanilla scent he knew he would be missing for months. “Then we better start making up for lost time now,”

And that was how you found yourself completely exposed to his lust filled eyes as you break in the new couch by fucking him on it.

Your clothing was strewn around the room and some of it hung off the couch as you sunk down on him at a fast pace. You were both pent up and anxious about having to spend three months away from one another, and you were putting that frustration into the way you fucked yourself onto him. “I love you, Ani,” you promised as you grind your hips against his.

Anakin tilted his head so it was against the backrest of the couch, his firm grip on your waist helping you move on him. “I love you, too,” he said under his breath, sliding one hand to the front of your body so his thumb can rub harsh circles onto your clit. “I’m so fucking proud of you, princess. I always am.”

You sigh as you lean down to connect your lips in a kiss. “You feel so good, Ani,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his as you spoke. “Gonna make me come.”

“I want you to, baby,” he rasped, pinching your clit in a way that left you shaking against him. “I want it all over me.”

Your body shook a bit as your orgasm ripped through you, the rolling of your hips stalling as you cried out against his mouth. “Fuck, Ani, fuck,” you whine as he grips your waist to be able to thrust up into you.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured as he kissed all over your neck, the relentless clench of your walls making his vision blur a bit. “My good girl.”

His sweet praises make you whimper and cling to him tightly. “Anakin, please,” you begged. You were so sensitive, but you also needed to feel him fill you up because you would be missing out on the feeling of him for months.

You seriously couldn’t believe you were considering leaving him for three months. That’s a whole quarter of a year. Your five year anniversary is coming up next month, are you really willing to spend your half a decade milestone away from him?

“Please…what?” He teased, but his voice wasn’t mocking at all. “What, pretty girl? What do you need?”

Your body shook as you tried your best to hold yourself up. “I need you,” you whispered and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling his body right up against yours. “Need it.”

“Yeah? You need it?” He asked, sliding his hands up your back and pulling you roughly down against him. His lips press against yours with every fuck of his hips and he filled you so well, you didn’t think you could ever get enough of him. “Need me to fill you up? Keep you nice and full for when those London boys think they have a chance with you?”

“God, Anakin,” you moan, rarely ever getting to see his jealous side come out. He never had a reason to get jealous as yours and his relationship was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes, so no one ever tried anything with either of you. Sure, people looked, but that was as far as it went. “Do it.”

And Anakin was never one to deny your wishes.

With a couple more thrusts he was spilling himself deep within your wet walls and painting you white. “There you go, princess,” he grunts. “Take it.”

You moan breathlessly and release your tight grip on him, softly running your hands through his hair. “Fuck,”

Anakin laughs quietly, wrapping his arms around you and gently rubbing your hips in his large hands. “We’re going to have to do that non-stop until we’re both satisfied enough to be able to not have sex for three months,”

You smile at him, brushing your nose against his as you say, “I’ll come visit whenever I can. Honestly, I don’t think I can go that long without you,”

“Me either,” he agreed. “Please, come visit me whenever you can. I’ll buy the plane ticket or whatever you’ll use to come back to me, but please, come visit me.”

You nod and nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. “You know I will, Ani,”

While you were both reassured for now, doubts and worries were beginning to linger in the backs of both yours and Anakin’s heads, but neither of you would ever admit it.

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