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xomakara · 4 months ago

Text

No Clue

SUMMARY | You're in love with Jaehyun, your best friend, but he has no clue. You have suffered in silence as you have watched him date countless of girls left and right. Graduation is coming up, and you are running out of time to tell him how you feel. Will he finally see that it should have been you all along, or will he break your heart forever?

PAIRINGS | Jaehyun x Reader

GENRE/CONTENT/WARNINGS | college!student!Jaehyun, college!student!Reader, college au, friends to lovers trope, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (both male/female receiving/giving), praise kink, pet names

RATING | Mature, NSFW, 18+

LENGTH | 11,927 words

TAGLIST | @yowmaman @yoursyuno @peqchypeqh @nctobsessedsstuff @thoughtfulqueenlady

@shiningnono @jaessunflower214 @tenleecth10 @beebxxu @niinjo

@carelessshootanonymous @peachytokki @100203shong @soheendo

NETWORKS | @k-vanity

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Its finally done and I have finally returned! I think this is my dirtiest and filthiest NSFW work yet for NCT 👀. Thanks to everyone that has shown the preview much love so please show the finished work just as much love. Don't forget to like, comment, reblog and show some support. Love you all 💚

You sat in the coffee shop, tables away from your best friend as you watched him flirt with that pretty girl he met at the latest NCT frat party. It was another girl this week, but you still hoped. You hoped he would turn and look at you. You hoped that he would see that it should be you.

It was never you.

He laughed at something she said and you sipped your tea. The hot liquid scalded your throat but you barely registered the pain, your eyes on Jaehyun, your heart shattering every single time he smiled at her. He would never smile at you like that. He would never look at you with those soft brown eyes.

And yet you continued to sit in the corner, watching, hoping, praying for something you could never have.

You got up and walked past them, ignoring Jaehyun's questioning glance. Your head was down as you pushed open the door and stepped out into the hot summer air.

The walk back to your apartment was quiet. The heels you wore were a nuisance today, and you kicked them off halfway through the walk, your feet padding barefoot across the concrete. You could see a group of guys approaching and you sighed, picking up your pace. You didn’t want to have to talk to anyone.

The group stopped and turned towards you, calling out. You could hear their footsteps following and you bit back a curse.

“Y/N, seriously, are you listening to us?” One of the guys, Mark, said.

You slowed your pace and turned, plastering a smile on your face.

Mark stood before you, Taeyong, Johnny, and Haechan close behind. You knew them from high school. You had been friends, and you had always found them attractive. But nothing, nothing, compared to how you felt about Jaehyun.

Your eyes drifted to the ground.

“Who made our girl cry?” Taeyong asked, wrapping his arms around you. He could see through your fake smile.

You couldn't help but relax into him and rest your head on his shoulder. He rubbed your back gently.

The others came forward and touched you gently, Mark taking one of your hands, Johnny placing a hand on your head, and Haechan standing beside you and taking your other hand.

You didn’t want to cry anymore.

They held you for a while, silent. They had known for years about how you felt about Jaehyun. You couldn’t count the number of times you had called Taeyong, crying and begging him to come and hold you, the number of times Johnny had taken you for coffee or to the cinema, anything to get you out of your apartment and away from the sight of Jaehyun with someone else. Mark had sat up with you late at night, watching bad rom-coms and eating popcorn. Haechan had brought you a new book every single day since the start of university, and you knew that the reason you had done so well was because of him.

They helped you through your worst times. And here they were again.

You finally stepped back, looking up at them and wiping the last of the tears away.

“Another girl this time?” Haechan asked softly.

“The one Yuta introduced him to at the last frat party.” You sighed, running your hand through your hair. "I've got all dolled up today thinking that something was different, that maybe today would be the day when he suddenly asked to meet me at the coffee shop alone. But I guess it was to introduce me to whatever her name was."

The boys stayed silent.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" Johnny asked quietly.

You shook your head.

"He doesn't need to know. I'm okay." You sighed. "Besides, no matter how much I wear pretty clothes or put on makeup, or wear these stupid heels like always...he never looks my way. He never sees me. I must be ugly or something, I don't know."

"You are beautiful. Any guy would be lucky to have you." Haechan whispered.

"You guys are the best." You smiled and kissed their cheeks.

"Why don't we have a movie night? We can get pizza and snacks and just chill." Johnny smiled, linking his arm with yours.

"Drinks included?" You asked, your heart a little lighter than it had been a few moments ago.

"Of course." Mark laughed.

"And popcorn, lots of it." Taeyong grinned.

You walked with them back to your apartment, smiling and laughing at their jokes, letting yourself relax and forget about Jaehyun, at least for a little while.

Haechan opened your front door, grinning.

"Let's get wasted!" He whooped, making a beeline to the cabinet where you had stored all your drinks.

"Get some glasses." Mark laughed, following the younger boy.

You and Johnny made your way into the living room and dropped down onto the couch. Taeyong came back from the kitchen with plates and napkins, placing them on the table and sitting beside you.

Haechan and Mark carried all the drinks and snacks to the table and sat on the floor, sorting out the snacks.

You smiled, grateful for the four men in front of you. You would have gone mad without them.

The night was going well, you were sitting between Taeyong and Johnny on the couch, leaning on Johnny and giggling as the film continued. Haechan was curled up on the other side of the couch, half asleep. Mark had disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a huge bowl of popcorn and settling on the floor next to Haechan.

Your phone buzzed and you frowned, looking down and seeing Jaehyun's name. You groaned and threw the phone to the other side of the couch, turning your attention back to the film.

"Don't you want to see what he wants?" Taeyong asked softly.

"Nope." You popped the 'p' and took another sip of your drink. "He can go fuck himself."

"He's texted you like a hundred times already." Haechan frowned, holding the phone out to you.

"So?"

"Y/N, just look. It could be important."

You groaned and snatched the phone from him, opening the messages and rolling your eyes.

Jae: Are you mad at me?

Jae: Seriously, you can't ignore me forever. Please reply. What the fuck did I do wrong? You are my best friend, talk to me.

Jae: This is not fucking funny. What is wrong with you?

"What's wrong with me?" You looked away from your phone, letting out a frustrated sigh as you passed your phone to Mark.

"You want me to reply?" Mark asked.

"Nope. Just turn off my phone. I don't care how many messages he leaves me." You got up, downing your drink. "I'm going to get more alcohol."

"You are going to regret this in the morning," Johnny called.

"At this point, I don't fucking care. I'm done with this. If he wants to date the whole world then that's up to him. Not my fault."

You stumbled into the kitchen and opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of vodka, poured a good amount into your cup, and made your way back to the guys. "I'll regret it later, but right now, I'm getting absolutely, fucking trashed."

The movie finished, and you had drunk more than enough alcohol to kill a horse.

You were lying on the couch, the others sitting around you.

"I don't want to be in love anymore. Why can't I stop?" You slurred, your eyes closed as you lay across the couch, your head on Johnny's lap and your feet in Haechan's.

"There will be someone else. Someone better." Johnny stroked your hair, smiling softly.

"I hope so. I really, fucking do." You sighed.

You were drunk, you were sad, and you cried a lot. But you were also tired.

And within minutes, you were asleep.

Jaehyun was worried. He had texted you and called you. His texts went unanswered, his calls went straight to voicemail, and everyone else who was with you wasn't answering his texts.

"What the fuck is going on with everyone tonight?" He muttered, throwing his phone onto his bed and falling onto the pillows.

He sighed, looking up at the ceiling and wondering why you wouldn't talk to him. He had seen you walk out of the cafe and had wondered why you hadn't waited for him, why you had left so quickly.

He had wanted to ask but had been distracted by the pretty girl who was sitting in front of him.

He couldn't deny that she was gorgeous and that he liked the way her dress clung to her figure.

But she wasn't you.

Jaehyun sighed and looked at his phone. The girl, Minah, had asked him out, and he had said yes.

She was the most recent in a long line of girls, all of whom had asked him out. He could barely remember their names. They were just something to occupy his time, something to fill the void in his chest when his mind drifted back to you. You, his beautiful best friend, who probably doesn't think of him as anything but a friend.

Jaehyun could imagine holding you, loving you, kissing you until your lips were red and swollen, only pulling away to pepper your skin in small, soft kisses that made you giggle. He wanted to be able to run his fingers through your hair and kiss the top of your head as he pulled you against him. He could see you wrapped up in his arms as the sun came up, your soft breaths against his skin, your fingertips gently dancing across his body.

He wanted to be with you, wanted you in his life, not these random, forgettable girls. But he didn't know how to tell you, and so he resigned himself to this half-life.

He grabbed his phone and called you again, but still, it rang and rang until finally the voicemail picked up. He didn’t bother leaving another message, knowing that you were deliberately not answering.

He knew that he should probably let you be, but the worry was building inside him. He was concerned. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

It was almost 2 am and you still hadn't replied to him.

Jaehyun stood up, his mind made up. He grabbed his keys, jacket, phone, and wallet, and made his way out of his apartment to head to yours.

He walked slowly, thinking about you, wondering what had happened that day. Had he done something wrong? Why had you left the coffee shop without him?

He reached your apartment, surprised that the lights were still on.

He knocked loudly, waiting impatiently for someone to answer the door.

After a moment, the door opened, and Mark stood in the doorway. "Hey, can't this wait? She's asleep."

"Is she okay?" Jaehyun tried to push past the shorter man, but Mark stopped him.

"Look, man, just go home. She doesn't want to talk to you." Mark sighed.

Jaehyun gave him a look. "Why the fuck not? I'm her best friend."

"Well, you have a fucking shitty way of showing it. Do you even know what you have put her through?" Johnny walked up behind Mark and glared at Jaehyun.

Jaehyun paused. "What are you talking about?"

"You are her best friend and you are so blind that you can't see what is right in front of your eyes." Johnny continued.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Jaehyun furrowed his eyebrows.

"For fucks sake." Johnny sighed. "Go home, Jae. Leave her alone for now."

"Tell her I'll call her tomorrow. I'll be back to check on her." Jaehyun turned and walked away, his head full of confusion.

Mark and Johnny shared a look.

"This is getting out of hand," Mark muttered.

"It'll work out. Let's get back inside. She needs us."

They closed the door and walked back into the living room, the others glancing at them.

"Is he gone?" Haechan asked.

"Yeah, for now. But I don't know how much longer we can keep this up. If he doesn't realize how she feels soon, it will destroy her." Mark sighed.

Taeyong moved from his seat and sat on the floor next to Haechan. "How many girls has he been with now?" He asked.

"I've lost count. There was that girl at the party last week, the one with the green dress. He dated her for two days before he realized that she wasn't going to give him anything other than her time. Then there was that blonde girl, she was nice, and lasted a couple of weeks." Mark listed the girls that Jaehyun had brought around and introduced to you.

"How many of those girls did he fuck?" Haechan asked.

"Too many." Mark sighed.

"And she watches them all. She sits and listens to them talk about their dates and the things they've done, and she never says anything. She pretends to be happy for him, pretends that she is okay." Johnny looked over at your sleeping form.

"This needs to end." Haechan frowned. "Can't we just lock them in a room or something? Let them fuck it out or something? Surely it has to happen at some point."

"I'm with him." Taeyong looked at the rest of them.

"That...I guess that would work." Johnny nodded slowly.

"I could knock her out." Mark stood. "Give her something to drink, make it sweet or something... I could pick her up, put her somewhere..."

"No, Mark. No." Taeyong stopped him. "I'm pretty sure drugging her is illegal, even if you are doing it for a good cause. We don't need you getting arrested as well."

"Fine, fine." Mark threw his hands up and flopped down beside Haechan.

"Doesn't have to be drug-free," Haechan suggested.

"Again, Hae, not helping. We need Y/N and Jaehyun to be conscious if this is to go ahead." Johnny explained patiently.

"Yo, isn't the summer frat party coming up? We could lock them up in the laundry room since the door lock is broken?" Mark asked. “Like that shit won’t unlock from the inside.”

"Who knows what they could do then...no, wait. What if we kept them under a watch, like literally, all the time, until the frat party? At which point, we shove him in with her and she will have nowhere to escape to." Johnny sat up straight, eyes wide, an excited smile on his face.

"Okay. So far we have a plan to trap them at a frat party, and make sure they won't have any outside influences." Taeyong leaned back.

"Any other suggestions before we call this a success?" Johnny asked.

"Don't get caught," Haechan replied, grinning.

"Don't. Get. Caught." The others nodded.

Over the next few weeks, the boys slowly came up with a plan to trap you and Jaehyun together. It took a lot more thinking than anyone had believed it would, and twice they had had to start the plan over after realizing the flaws.

But the day was approaching fast, the day of the Frat Party. The annual summer frat party was known for one thing – anything and everything was up for grabs. There were no rules. People would sit in the quiet corners of rooms and kiss strangers, get blind drunk, dance the night away, or pass out on a soft surface. Anything goes.

It was the perfect place to begin the trap.

By the end of the week, everyone knew it would be the night you and Jaehyun got together. There were only a few more hurdles to jump, and the boys would finally let the cat out of the bag.

Your friendship group was also quite big, and your respective friendship groups always did make sure that you were as drunk or as happy or as horny as the other was, at least.

So this meant that you, as usual, and for the last few years, were at this frat party with them, on a weekend and dressed to impress.

And impressed you had, Jaehyun thought to himself, watching you flit in between friends with your drink. He knew that you were going to be here at this party, even if you were avoiding him for reasons unknown to him. He hoped to catch a chance to speak to you about this. He missed his best friend.

It took a lot longer than he thought to get an opportunity to corner you. And he saw that there was always one of the guys, usually either Haechan or Taeyong, with you. Almost like they knew he was looking to speak with you.

Johnny and Mark appeared at Jaehyun's side, slapping him on the back.

"Going to make a move tonight?" Johnny grinned. "Time to cash in and score."

"Cute, man. How old are you, 18?" Jaehyun raised a brow.

"Dude, it's the summer party where nothing is off-limits. Rules don't exist. Do whatever, whoever. Catch a big one." Johnny pointed in the general direction of all the college students around.

"You seem excited for some reason." Jaehyun narrowed his eyes.

"Why not be?" Mark asked with an easy smile, looking as if he didn't have a single worry in the world. "Look at all the hot ass around. It's not that big of a deal."

Jaehyun huffed before sipping his beer from the can. "Sure, maybe I'll land on someone."

He sighed and looked for you across the sea of people. He saw you giggling with your friends, obviously slightly tipsy. His heart thudded loudly at the sight of you in an all-too-short silver skirt that barely covered the curve of your ass, a lace bodysuit that barely covered your ample breasts, and stiletto heels that showed off your long and lean legs beautifully. It took him a minute to pull his gaze back to Mark and Johnny, both of them with huge shit-eating grins.

Johnny and Mark noticed his wandering eyes looking at you, and they glanced at one another before giving each other a knowing nod. Mark raises an eyebrow as Johnny nearly spits out the beer he is drinking when he finally spots you in the crowd.

"Fuck, dude!" He exclaims and smacks Jaehyun's arm. "When did Y/N look this hot? I know we’re friends but damn. She outdid herself tonight."

Jaehyun gives Johnny a sideways glance at the fact that he had the audacity to be hitting on his best friend. He moves to get up and find you, a little annoyed that his friends are getting their eyes on you.

"Man, I bet she's looking for something in particular tonight, why not get first?" Mark whistles and gives Johnny a fist pump.

Jaehyun hears this comment and gives him a strange look, then raises a brow in thought as to Mark's remark. He tries to shrug it off and heads off towards where you were last seen by him. Jaehyun fights his way through the throng of college students trying to dance but fails to see you again and assumes you have found another of your friends to hang around with.

"Did Jaehyun finally have the guts to approach her?" Taeyong asks Johnny from the corner of the house.

Mark let out a laugh. "Johnny made Jae think that he was interested in Y/N." He laughs harder. "Taeyong, your boy was about ready to fight Johnny."

"Hey, anything for him to make a move." He murmurs and he watches Jaehyun search the room for you.

As Johnny, Taeyong, and Mark snicker from their corner and watch the unfolding scene, Jaehyun turns, looking almost irritated as he attempts to catch up with his best friend. He makes a silent promise that the next guy who tries to hit on you is going down.

You are none the wiser to Jaehyun trying to search for you or the scheming your friends have done as you were chatting with Yuta, Jeno, and Jungwoo. The four of you are laughing as you chatter with drinks in hand and have fun.

"We're sure this will work, guys?" Haechan checks on Taeyong, Johnny, and Mark while drinking his third cup of beer. "There's only a handful of us left who can help and make sure Jaehyun or Y/N doesn't sneak out early."

"Oh this better fucking work or I swear to god, we will just use a megaphone and let everyone know they are in love with each other." Taeyong growls and rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Just make sure no one comes to the laundry room, alright guys?" Johnny finalizes and all the boys give a nod.

Suddenly, the house turns silent when the DJ lowers the volume. Jaehyun is surprised he can hear his thoughts, but then the main host, or frat house leader, Doyoung announces. "Okay, party-goers, as you all are aware, the party rules for the night apply! Nothing is forbidden, let yourself be free and open, and no boundaries because what happens here, stays here! This means that you, your friends, and whatever partners you end up with can do as you like, go wherever you like, however many you like, but please make sure safety precautions are used! If you're sober, come and volunteer to drive your partners and friends safely home once it ends. Enjoy the party, and party till the sun rises!"

The house erupts in a sea of applause.

Most of the party attendees grab someone and immediately find a spot for themselves in some rooms or leave for the night to continue elsewhere.

You're flirting with an attractive boy you don't know. His arms are wrapped around your waist as you subtly flirt with him, giggling at whatever stupid thing is leaving his mouth.

Jaehyun is at the other side of the room drinking beer from a red solo cup, looking at you with a frown. He can't keep his eyes off of you, which pisses him off, as you won't even reply to his texts. And the whole not texting back doesn't make him as angry as this boy who is a bit too close to you. You're practically pressed against him, his hand on your waist, and you are whispering things he can't hear into his ear. He tries to shake his jealousy off but his eyes never leave you, and then the unknown boy turns and presses his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter closed, and your fingers grip the boy's hair and jacket.

Jaehyun lets the cup drop out of his hand and makes his way over to you. He puts his hand in the boy's face and pushes him away.

"Dude, what's your problem?" The boy frowns and steps towards him, pushing him lightly.

"She's my fucking problem. Don't touch her. Fuck off. She isn't interested." Jaehyun growls. The boy rolls his eyes, looks over his shoulder at you, and storms off.

"Jae, what the fuck is your problem?" You glare at him, pulling him so your bodies are flush against each other. Jaehyun stares down at you, trying to control his erratic heartbeat.

"Him. Kissing you. That's my problem."

"What are you talking about? I was just talking with him. I didn't know he would kiss me." You sigh, running your fingers through your hair.

"Were you going to let him? Did you want him to?" Jaehyun growled. “You looked like you were enjoying it.”

"Does that matter? Would it even make a difference?" You said as you stepped in front of the laundry room and tilted your head back to him.

"You don't answer my calls anymore. You ignore my texts." Jaehyun murmured, walking close behind you.

"And why would that matter? You've got loads of pretty girls to entertain yourself with, Jaehyun." Your tone was mocking, and bitter, and Jaehyun noticed.

"Where is this coming from? Is that why you have been ignoring me lately?" He said, getting annoyed.

"So what if it is? It doesn't matter anymore, Jaehyun. It's obvious that your eyes are already set on your next prize." You walked into the laundry room, trying to find someplace quiet.

To get away from him.

The room, unlike the rest of the house, had no loud music playing, no thumping bass, just the soft buzzing sound of the washer and dryer machines, and the party could no longer be heard through the walls. The music was almost like white noise now. You knew Jaehyun had followed you into the room, you could feel the warmth radiate off of him. His body heat so close behind you. He was about to speak when you both heard the door slammed shut, locking from the outside.

"You've gotta be shitting me." Jaehyun groaned, yanking at the door handle.

You rushed to the door and twisted the lock, only to find it refused to budge. "They still didn't fix the damn door lock? Really?"

"Hey! Who is it? Open the fucking door." Jaehyun slammed his fist at the wooden frame, frowning as it did not budge an inch.

He pressed his forehead to the door and swore loudly.

"Jaehyun, it's no use. You could break your hands before it opens." You tugged on his sleeve. "We may as well wait it out."

You sighed and went to go sit on the floor, your back against the machines. Jaehyun sank beside you on the floor, leaning his back against the machine and rubbing a hand down his face, mumbling profanities. You tuck your knees up, wrapping your arms around your legs. Jaehyun couldn't help but look down at you, his gaze drinking you in.

The lace bodysuit that hugged your breasts and accentuated all your curves, the short skirt that showed your naked legs. Your hair was out and around your shoulders. You had on makeup, not that you needed any, you always were breathtaking even in a hoodie and sweatpants. But the smokey makeup and red lipstick – that was new. And the stiletto heels on your feet only lengthened your toned legs further. You never did anything half-assed when it came to your appearance. Always dressed for the occasion, even if the occasion was a damn frat party where no rules applied.

He was enraptured by your beauty.

He always was.

Jaehyun struggled now more than before not to keep his thoughts innocent and out of the gutter. Especially now as you were sitting by his side so close, it took all the willpower inside him to not keep his dirty thoughts at bay and not throw himself at you and take advantage of the situation.

"Where’s your phone, Jae?" You murmured. “Mines dead. Forgot to charge it.”

Jaehyun patted down his pockets, looking for his cell phone, then remembered he had placed it in the back pocket of his pants. He scrambled to get it out of his pocket and opened his messages, only to see one new message from Johnny.

Johnny: Get a fucking move on, man. We are NOT letting you out until you two hook up.

So, that answered his unanswered question, and Jaehyun frowned, his eyebrows lowering, glaring daggers at the phone. He fidgeted as he typed the message back, telling Johnny and the boys to let you both the fuck out and sent it.

Johnny: No can do. Take this time to bond and grow as people and then finally FUCK like rabbits.

Before Jaehyun could type out an answer, you plucked his phone out of his hands and stared at the screen before letting out a soft laugh.

"I should have figured they were going to do this. So, we're stuck here for the time being." You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I guess I can't avoid you after all."

"Are you going to tell me why you've been avoiding me? Did I do something?" Jaehyun sighed.

Your hands gripped your thighs, fingers pressing down hard, as you struggled not to throw your arms around his neck and pull his lips to yours. To show him exactly how you felt.

"It's complicated, Jae." You began, leaning your head against the washing machine behind you and staring at the wall. You were silent for a few moments, taking deep, slow breaths in and out as Jaehyun let you collect your thoughts and form the right words. "I...just. I can't pretend. I can't do it anymore. It's taking its toll on me and I can't hide it from you. Not when we've been best friends since childhood. Not when you know how to read my fucking moods."

Jaehyun cupped your jaw, making you look at him. "Are you okay? If something is wrong-"

"I'm not okay! Of course, I'm not fucking okay." You snapped, running a frustrated hand through your hair. "Not when I have to see girls hanging all over you, draping themselves over you, giggling every time you flirt, or when they kiss you. How do you think it is for me? To watch someone I...I...shit. Someone I care so much about, be with someone else? It's eating me alive inside, Jaehyun."

You didn't miss his wide-eyed reaction, his sharp intake of breath, or how he tried to read the expression on your face.

"What are you getting at, exactly?" Jaehyun asked, tilting his head.

"God, you are infuriating. Do I have to spell this out to you?" You roll your eyes and push yourself up to stand and begin pacing, the heels of your shoes clicking across the linoleum-tiled floor, and he watches you pace, agitated. Jaehyun grabs your hand and pulls you to him. Your stiletto heels are wobbling a bit and his other hand grips your hip to steady you. His gaze holds yours and doesn't waver and you notice there is a flicker in his dark, hooded eyes that sends a chill through your spine.

"Do you like me?" Jaehyun finally breathes, holding your gaze intently, searching for confirmation. He doesn't let go of you.

"What would you do if I said yes?" You are playing a dangerous game and you know it. The air between you crackles with tension and you swear you feel his pulse increase with the closeness of your body to his. Your lips are inches apart.

You have always wondered how his mouth would feel on yours and it drives you wild with thoughts.

A fire flickers and spreads through your veins when you look up at him and see the way his eyes darken with want when he gazes down at you. His breath is shallow and uneven. He swallows, thick and heavy and your eyes drop to his lips. Your tongue darts out to wet your own, and Jaehyun's mouth parts.

The tip of Jaehyun's tongue is faintly pink and you want nothing more than for him to lift his chin and press his lips to your parted pouted ones, but the courage you mustered seconds ago is suddenly gone and you try to step back from him. You're met with a wall of machines. You aren't sure if you were to try and push past him if you would have even made a single movement to escape. Your chest is still rising and falling at a rapid, uneven rate, and you realize that maybe there is an underlying truth about the house's saying: anything is a free game tonight.

"Do you like me, Y/N?" He asks again, his hands on either side of your body, trapping you between the washers and his arms. He leans towards you and cages you in, and his knee slips between yours.

You couldn't think clearly, not with the smell of Jaehyun invading your senses. His cologne was driving you insane. You grip his shirt between your fingers and lower yourself onto his knee. It feels good and you aren't sure whether it's because you haven't had sex in months or if it was his muscular leg that fits so perfectly between yours.

"Answer me, Y/N." His lips are next to your ear, voice low, breathing hot. It causes a whimper to spill from your mouth. The way Jaehyun's words made your insides feel...fuck. "Please, I need to know."

The please almost shattered any sense of will you might have possessed to hold yourself together. "I - I -"

"Yes?" Jaehyun leaned impossibly closer to you, so close you could taste his scent.

"Jaehyun," your tone is quiet and uncertain. You are frightened of the possibility of losing your lifelong friendship. Of losing Jaehyun. Of not having him. Not like that anyway. "I -"

Before you can say anything else, he closes the distance between the both of you, and you don't hesitate for a second. His hand sinks into the flesh of your hips, pulling you flush against him, your lips sealing perfectly. Your tongue reaches and touches his, licking softly into his mouth. His other hand grips your cheeks with his large fingers as he pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth. It's hot and fiery and he explores every part of your mouth as he devours you in a passionate kiss. It leaves you breathless.

You have kissed many men in your life.

However, none could ever make your toes curl the same way he did. None of them had you begging for more, willing to give up the fight you had been so diligently putting up the past few weeks just to be with him. You cling to his chest, your nails digging into his white T-shirt as your teeth bite on his bottom lip softly.

He moans.

Your core clenches at the sound, and you can't deny the small rush of pride that runs down your spine.

Fuck, it turns you on.

You grab his shoulders for support, his hands roaming around your ass. He squeezes and you gasp, kissing his neck as you roll your hips over the firmness of his knee. The warmth between your legs pooling.

"Is this what you want? Is that it? Is this what's been bothering you the past few weeks?"

Your fingers curl tighter around his T-shirt, and you cling to him, not allowing yourself to step away and let him go. You are losing your breath as he presses you into the metal and it sends a wave of heat coursing through your body.

"Jaehyun," you whined in protest, arching and shivering in his hold.

"Do you like me?” He wanted you to beg. “No, do you love me?”

"Yes," you whimpered as you kissed the hollow of his neck and sucked the sensitive area of skin. Jaehyun's skin was soft and salty on your tongue. Your actions ignited Jaehyun. “I love you so much.”

"I fucking love you, too." He growled, pushing his knee between your legs harder and his other hand cupped the back of your neck, drawing your head back. His teeth found the smooth column of your neck and bit softly.

The next moment, Jaehyun is pushing your body against the washer, kissing your neck and your fingers are dragging your nails up and down his biceps, and then he lifts you, throwing one arm underneath the bend in your knees. Your skirts are riding up on the back of your thighs. The next moment you are sitting up on top of the large washer with Jaehyun between your knees, your bare legs wrapped around his hips as his mouth ravages yours, drawing another lustful moan out of you.

You are convinced at that moment that you've found your perfect person.

Your bodies flush and chests heave in rhythm together. You break your lips from his and trail your kiss-bitten lips down his jaw and lick his neck, tugging at the hem of his T-shirt, desperate to feel his bare skin. His lips brush yours once again, his tongue flicking inside your parted mouth and eliciting another soft gasp from you.

You loved it and it sent warmth straight to your core.

Suddenly, as Jaehyun is ravishing you, the door to the laundry room swings open and you both find Johnny leaning against the door frame. Mark, Taeyong, and Haechan hovering in the doorway. Johnny smirks as Mark and Taeyong cover Haechans' young eyes, the youngest exclaiming that he’s seen worse before.

"You've got to be shitting me." Jaehyun voiced through his teeth and snarled at them, his brows furrowed, his cheeks flushed.

"Oh, don't stop on our account, we're not even here. Just pretend we aren't, continue doing what you're doing." Johnny smirked, his hand reaching for his phone.

"God, I'm so embarrassed," You buried your head in Jaehyun's chest, trying to hide your flushed cheeks and lips, swollen from kissing.

Jaehyun ran a hand down his face and let out a frustrated breath. He turned to you, his hands framing your face. "Y/N, look at me."

You raised your gaze, his eyes darkened with lust. "Don't ever hide from me."

"But, Jae, they are -"

"Ignore them." He cut you off, his thumb brushing over your plump lips. You nodded, leaning forward and pressed your lips to his. He kisses you, his hands cupping your cheeks, his fingers caressing the soft skin and his touch left your whole body on fire.

You were sure that you had a dumb smile on your face, and the butterflies in your stomach were having a party of their own. You didn't even have a care in the world as he held you close to him.

"Yo, it's like they forgot we're here." Mark's voice brought you back to reality.

"Took you both long enough to finally make a move. We should have locked them in here a long time ago." Johnny chortled, still leaning on the doorframe, Haechan snickering. "Have a fun time."

"We'll leave the door open if ya'll wanna get out, but we can't promise you the house will be free of horny folks fucking each other," Taeyong adds before walking away with an amused smile. The boys follow behind.

You let out a small laugh as you watched your friends walk away. You cupped Jaehyun's cheek, looking into his eyes. "As much as I love laundry... I'd love to finish what we started at my place."

He lets out a small chuckle before lifting you once again and setting you back on your feet, his large hands rubbing up and down your bare legs. Grabbing his hand, you entwine your fingers as you pull him out of the laundry room and out of the house. Not stopping for anyone who tried to approach and greet the two of you, not interested in small talk, just wanting to get as quickly to your apartment to be with Jaehyun without interruption or unwanted attention.

Your apartment is about a ten-minute walk from the frat house but it felt like an eternity because of the handsome man next to you. Jaehyun couldn't seem to keep his hands off you the entire walk. Running his fingers up and down the smooth and warm skin of your arm, shoulder, or down the dip of your spine where the zipper of your bodysuit began, slowly running his fingers back up as he brushed a loose tendril of hair from your face.

You trembled as his large, warm palm curled around your hip and pressed a palm flat to your stomach to keep your pace matched with his as the two of you rounded a corner and walked towards your place. He would drop kisses to your shoulder every so often, as your giggling and playful swatting only encouraged him further and only made him want you more.

"Stop, Jae," You whined softly, pressing your lips together as Jaehyun lowered himself close to your ear and bit down gently.

"Don't you enjoy this?" Jaehyun is burning for you. Every time your fingers make contact with him, he becomes a puddle in your hands. Your touch is hypnotizing, and he finds his desires overwhelming his logic.

"I love it," you moaned in frustration and arousal. "But can't you wait until we get to my place?"

"I'd rather fuck you right now," His dark hooded eyes had you frozen in your spot. "Up against the building."

"I'd love that..." You clung to his arm and looked up at him with pleading eyes. "But I want our first time together to be more than against the brick walls. Please?"

You have no idea how much power you have over him. You look at him with your big, bright eyes that glisten. Your cute nose and supple, glistening lips, the soft voice, and the small hand that grabs his hand to entwine your fingers and pull him with you, eager to get him to the front door of your apartment and to the bed where the two of you would not come out from for the rest of the night.

"Fuck, princess." He says before lifting you and throwing you over his shoulder, smirking at the high-pitched yelp you let out and running the rest of the block to get you to your apartment. You were giggling the entire way, slapping at his firm, muscular shoulder. "I still think the idea of fucking you outside, pressed up against the wall, and showing you how badly I want you is great, but you've left me no choice, princess. You asked, and I shall give."

You bite your lip to stifle the whine that escapes your throat when he says how badly he wants you, but a faint noise comes through regardless.

"So pretty, Princess," he coos as he keys in your door code. Once inside, he deposits you by your sofa. He is on you in an instant, kissing the breath from your lungs and filling you with his touch and his scent as his hands and his body blanket yours, caressing your back, making your blood simmer with need. You are holding on to him and grabbing at the collar of his white T-shirt to pull him closer to your needy, wanting, burning body. You kiss him back with hunger. A desperation and a relief to finally show him your affections and wants.

He groans into your mouth and gives you a little bite as his fingers curl on the back of your neck. He breaks the kiss and looks into your eyes. Your faces are inches apart, and he grasps your wrists. He has such large hands. It does things to you. Especially when it's cupping your neck or wrapped around the tops of your thighs. You whimper a bit when his hand tightens, holding you firmly as he places the other on your cheek. You can't think of anything besides Jaehyun as he crushes his mouth back against yours, his tongue exploring every inch, exploring and teasing. Your heart thumps at a steady pace, matching the pulsing throb between your legs.

"I want you, please." You whimper softly. "All of you."

Jaehyun palms himself. God, your begging was like honey to him, so thick and so sweet. You were going to drive him insane and he is going to enjoy every minute of it.

"Fuck Y/N, if that isn't the hottest thing," Jaehyun growls lowly, voice raspy, taking another taste of you, moaning quietly against your lips.

Your fingers grasp at the back of his neck, tugging gently at his hair. You are ravenous. Greedily searching Jaehyun out with your hands, trying to tug his shirt from the waist of his jeans. His fingers tangle with yours, halting your movements and giving you no room to argue or attempt to make an opening into his boxers. "Patience, love."

Love.

What? Did he call you 'love'?

"Yes, I did," He grinned, wide and white. It was as he was reading your mind. "Now shut up and let me give you the best night of your life, princess."

Fuck.

The nickname was doing things to your insides, making your core throb and clench with want. Your body thrums and tingles to the tips of your fingers, all the way down to your toes. His knee is back between your legs and you cannot control yourself as you rock back and forth against his thigh.

He huffed a breath, trying desperately to maintain any ounce of self-control that he still possessed. "If I held you up and had your arms and legs around my shoulders and fucked your tight little pussy, what do you think of that, princess? Or would you like it better if I pinned your arms behind you and bent you over your couch or spread you out on your bed and feast on your beautiful, plump pussy?"

"God Jae, you're going to kill me," You mewl and beg as Jaehyun's teeth glide against the tendons that connect your throat to your jawline. You tremble and whimper and grind against him, seeking more friction and the promise of relief and pleasure and the feeling of Jaehyun finally fucking you hard and long.

He had always been your best friend, someone you would joke and goof around with in the daylight, and at night he was the one you fantasized about when your fingers ran between the apex of your legs and worked you until your sheets were drenched with your release, and your pussy was sensitive to the point of sensitivity and your mind clouded with erotic visions of him and only him.

"You're not wearing anything underneath that bodysuit are you, princess? Tell me," Jaehyun can't resist asking. His cock twitches painfully in his jeans at your deepening blush and the way you avoid his eye when you answer. He wants so badly to slip his fingers between the swell of your ass and rub your wet slit. God, he can picture it. You are dripping all over and so ready for him and his cock. He grunts into your hair, nuzzling it.

"You're not supposed...oh god, Jae...wear anything under a bodysuit." You let out in between pants as he managed to get your skirt off of your body and throw it somewhere in your living room.

Jaehyun sucks on the tender patch of skin near your jaw, the curve of your jaw meeting the flesh of your throat and drawing out a strained and breathy sound.

He lowers himself down on the floor, taking one of your legs and draping it over his shoulder. He spreads your thighs open as he pops open the buttons to the closure of your bodysuit, running the tip of his nose against the area. You breathe harder, shaky. He presses his teeth into the inside of your thigh as he watches you squirm under him.

You aren't wearing anything underneath.

It's a fucking sight.

"You weren't lying." He breathes against your thigh, looking up at you from his spot on the floor. It makes your body flush when you see his head between your legs. God, it's turning you on. He's not even done anything yet and your pussy is clenching and pulsating with want. "Fuck, princess. You're trying to kill me tonight, aren't you? Do you know how bad I want to taste you? Please tell me you're aching for me to taste you. I can't wait any longer. Tell me. I want to hear you beg, baby."

His eyes are filled with hunger, the desire to tease, torture, and claim as they stare right back into yours, dark and delicious. They leave you a gasping mess.

"Please, Jaehyun. I've been dying for you to touch me. I need it. I need you."

"There it is," Jaehyun growls, pressing his fingers harder into your thigh and spreading you open wider, his mouth latching onto your swollen folds, sucking and licking. He doesn't take his eyes off you as he swirls his tongue around your clit and then sucks it. He moans, relishing the way your body responds. Your fingers curl into his hair. He hums and chuckles, "You taste fucking amazing."

You whimper, throwing your head back as his tongue flicks up and down the length of your slit. Your chest rises and falls at a quickening pace, unable to control the sounds leaving your mouth.

"I knew it. I just fucking knew it," Jaehyun is talking against the lips of your cunt, his voice muffled as he eats you out like a starved man. "So sweet and responsive. God, you're fucking delicious, princess."

You are panting and grinding your hips down to meet his mouth, riding his tongue as he curls it inside you.

"God Jaehyun, keep going. Don't stop." Your voice is breathy and hoarse.

"As you wish, princess," Jaehyun says before diving back in, lapping up your juices.

The noises coming from you and him are obscene. The wet sound of his tongue thrusting inside you and your pussy clenching around his tongue has you trembling and shaking and crying out, begging for more.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," Jaehyun rasped as he slipped a finger in, watching as your head tilted back, mouth opened wide and letting out a loud gasp. He was curling his finger and licking at your clit. The way his tongue flicked the sensitive bundle of nerves, had you shaking and begging. "Tell me you want more, Princess. Tell me how badly you want me to fill you up."

"Yes. Fuck yes," you whined as he pumped his finger and added a second one. He was scissoring them and stretching you out.

"Do you think I can fit another finger inside?"

You shook your head, "No, too much."

"Too much?" Jaehyun teased as his free hand came up and pinched at your nipples, still confined in the bodysuit. "I bet I can, baby. You're already so full with two fingers."

"I can't...take any more, Jaehyun." You whine as Jaehyun pumps his fingers faster, the pads of his fingers stroking and rubbing against the spot that had you seeing stars. "God, Jae. It's too much. Too good."

"You're not cumming yet, baby. We're not finished here." Jaehyun growled, adding a third finger and spreading you wide. His eyes locked on to yours as he lowered his head once more and latched his lips onto your clit, sucking and licking.

He has the power to unravel you, and you have never wanted him more.

"That's it. God, look at how well you're taking my fingers. Fucking perfect."

Jaehyun is fucking you with his fingers now. You can't stop the moans that spill from your lips.

"Fuck, I love hearing those pretty little noises you make. Such a good girl. So good."

"Jae, fuck. Jaehyun, I-I-"

"I want you to come on my tongue and fingers. Let go for me, princess."

Jaehyun's thumb pressed and rubbed against your clit, the pressure building. It was becoming too much. His tongue thrusting in and out of you, the wet slurping sounds he made, and the words he breathed against your sex as he lapped you up were pushing you over the edge.

Your walls clenched tightly around his fingers as his tongue flicked your sensitive nub.

"Fuck, baby, you're close. Let go."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," You cried out, and Jaehyun chuckled.

"That's right, princess. Come on my tongue, give it to me."

He was relentless and was pushing you further and further. The pleasure was intense, and you could no longer hold it in.

"Fuck, Jae. Please, please, please, I can't," You screamed.

"You can, and you will, princess." He says, voice deep and commanding.

And you did.

You’re sobbing and trembling as he works his fingers and tongue against your clit, and a rush of fluid spills out of you, covering his face and dripping down his chin. Your fingers are tugging his hair and the way his eyes meet yours and the smug grin he has on his face as he continues to lap at your juices and suck them dry, is almost enough to send you over the edge again.

Jaehyun is pulling back, wiping his mouth, and licking his fingers clean. "You came so beautifully for me, princess. Such a good girl."

"Shut up," You mumble, hiding your face behind your arm.

He chuckles and moves up, lifting the arm from your face and kissing your lips.

"It's just the two of us now, baby," He whispers against your mouth. "No need to be embarrassed. Just me and you."

"I don't think I can go again," You pout, looking up at him. "It's too much, Jaehyun."

"Not even a little bit, Y/N? Not even if I beg you? Plead with you?" He's pressing his lips against your neck and trailing wet kisses down your collarbone. "Please, princess."

"Jae," You moan softly as his fingers begin to tease and circle your nipple.

"Let me, baby. I promise I'll take care of you."

"Fine," You whisper, biting back a moan as he pushes the bodysuit up and off your body so that you are finally naked. "But you need to get naked too. It's not fair if I'm the only one."

Jaehyun's smile is soft and he leans down and pecks your lips before moving back and tugging his shirt over his head, revealing his muscular torso. He smirks and unbuckles his belt and slides his jeans and boxers down, tossing them behind him. He's standing there, fully naked, and you are sitting up on the couch and taking him in.

"Well, I guess now we're both naked." He's standing there, and he's stroking his cock and biting his lip.

You bite your lip, taking in his body. His thick, long, throbbing cock. Your eyes were wide as you whispered, "God, Jae. You're fucking huge."

"Don't worry, princess," He winks. "I'll take good care of you."

You roll your eyes, but you are blushing, and you are so turned on. You want to reach out and wrap your hands around his cock, stroking him and taking him in. Your pussy clenches and throbs. You are still sensitive from earlier, and his fingers are sliding up and down your slit, collecting your arousal, and you are whimpering.

"What do you say, princess? Wanna try and take all of me?" He's stroking himself, his dark eyes hooded and watching your face as you squirm. "Or would you rather have me lay you back and fuck you slowly?"

"Anything," You pant, desperate to have him, to feel him inside you. "God, anything."

Jaehyun smiles, and it's so fucking sexy. His eyes are hooded, and his tongue peeks out, swiping across his bottom lip, and it's like you are seeing him in a completely different light. He's no longer the guy who cracks jokes, the guy you laugh and giggle with, and the guy who always puts others before himself. He's no longer just Jaehyun.

He's a man. A beautiful, sexy, and handsome man. And he wants you.

Jaehyun picks you up and walks towards your bedroom, your arms and legs wrapped around him.

"Do you have condoms, baby?" He whispers.

"I didn't get any. I didn't think I was going to get laid tonight." You chuckle, burying your face into the crook of his neck. "But I am on birth control...so you have full permission to make a mess of me."

Jaehyun grins. "Are you sure, Y/N?"

"Yes." You breathe out. "God, yes."

He sets you down on the edge of the bed and takes a few steps back. He's watching you, his eyes never leaving yours. He's biting his lip, and he's still holding his cock in his hand.

"Come here," You whisper, reaching out.

Jaehyun walks closer and stands in front of you.

You lean forward, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock and taking him in. He's large and heavy on your tongue. You're so fucking turned on, and you can't help but moan around him. You've never sucked a dick this big, and you have a feeling it won't be the last time either.

"Fuck," Jaehyun hisses. "I knew your mouth would feel amazing, baby."

Your hands are holding his hips, and you pull back. You swirl your tongue around the tip, before sliding your mouth back down.

"Oh shit," Jaehyun groans, and his hands find their way into your hair.

You can't help the soft moan that escapes you. You want to be good for him. You want to show him how much you care about him, how much you care about his pleasure, his happiness, his satisfaction.

He's so big. It's almost too much, and the way he's fucking into your mouth, you know he's close. You can feel it. He's breathing hard, and his grip on your hair tightens.

"Baby, I'm gonna come." He pants.

You suck harder, and you are determined to have him come undone. You want to watch him come. You want to see the look on his face when he releases, the sound of his voice as he groans out your name. You want it all.

"I'm so close." He moans. "God, you're gonna make me come. Fuck, fuck."

His fingers grip tighter, and his hips buck forward.

"Y/N," Jaehyun choked. His release is warm and thick, and it tastes sweet. It's almost addictive, and you're swallowing everything he has to give you.

"That's it," He's whispering, stroking your hair. "Such a good girl."

You lick the tip of his cock, and his whole body shudders.

"Oh god, baby," He moans.

You are pulling back, licking your lips, and smiling.

Jaehyun's hand moves down and wraps around the base of his cock, pumping slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Fuck, I need to be in you. Now." Jaehyun whispers, his voice deep and raspy.

You nod, and he is moving on top of you, pushing you further back on the bed. His hand is between your legs, and his fingers are dipping into your core. He's coating his fingers and palm in your juices, and he's dragging it up and down the length of his cock, hissing.

"God, baby, I'm dying to feel your pussy."

"Then stop talking and fuck me."

Jaehyun bites his bottom lip and presses his lips to yours, his tongue sliding past them, and tangling with yours. He moans, and you moan into his mouth. His cock is pressing against your entrance, and he's rubbing the tip back and forth, coating it with your arousal.

"Fuck," You cry out, and he's pushing the head of his cock in, stretching you out.

"You're so tight, baby." He breathes, and his forehead is pressed to yours, and his eyes are closed, and his jaw is clenched. You're whimpering and trembling, and you're digging your nails into his back, and it's making him grunt and groan. He's halfway in, and he's panting, and his breathing is ragged. "So fucking good, princess. God, your pussy feels like heaven."

"Please, Jae. Please," You whimper.

"You're so pretty when you beg, baby. You sound so desperate. So needy. So, fucking perfect." Jaehyun begins rocking his hips, his cock sliding further inside you. "I'm going to ruin you for everyone else, baby. I'm going to ruin this pretty pussy for anyone else. It's mine. I'm not going to share. I'm gonna take care of it."

"Jaehyun," You moan.

"I'm serious. This pussy is mine. Only mine." Jaehyun is completely sheathed inside you, and his words have your cunt clenching around his cock.

"Fuck," He hisses.

"God, Jae. You're so big. So deep." You moan.

"And you're taking it so well, princess." Jaehyun starts at a steady pace, thrusting in and out, and your nails are digging deeper into his skin. "I'm so proud of you, baby."

"Thank you," You whine, arching your back, and Jaehyun's hands move up and down your sides, his palms squeezing and caressing your tits.

"So, so, so pretty." Jaehyun's voice is thick with lust. He's fucking into you hard, and his thumb is circling your nipple. "I could stay like this forever, baby. With my cock buried deep inside your pussy. You're so fucking tight, and your cunt feels so good, baby. I could fuck you forever."

"Yes, Jaehyun. Oh, god."

"You're so wet, and so, so, so fucking perfect, princess. I could get addicted to your body, and the way your pussy squeezes around my cock."

You are moaning and whimpering, and the words Jaehyun is saying, they're driving you crazy. You don't want him to ever stop, and you are afraid that when this is over, things will change between the two of you.

"You feel so fucking amazing, princess." Jaehyun is moaning and breathing heavily. His face is buried into your neck, and his lips are pressed against your skin. His hands are cupping your breasts, and his hips are grinding down against yours. "Fuck, Y/N."

You are both panting and sweating. Your bodies are moving together in a rhythm that has you both moaning and panting, and your pussy is clenching tightly around his cock, and the wetness that's pooling around your entrance, dripping onto the sheets.

Jaehyun is grunting and hissing as he pounds into you. "I can't stop, baby."

"Me either," You whimper, and Jaehyun pulls away, and he's flipping you over. You’re now on all fours, and his fingers are digging into your ass cheeks.

"Fuck," He hisses.

"Jaehyun, please." You whine, and he's pushing his cock back inside you, and he's fucking you hard and fast, his pelvis slamming against your ass.

"So fucking tight." He's gripping your hips, and his fingers are digging into your flesh. "Take it, princess."

"Yes, oh, yes." You are crying out, and your head is thrown back, and the sounds of the slapping of skin, and the moans that are leaving both of your lips, are almost too much.

"Look at you, taking my cock like a good girl. I'd bet you want to cream all over my cock, don't you, baby?" Jaehyun is grunting, and his breathing is ragged, and you can tell that he's getting close.

"Jaehyun, fuck," You cry out.

"Yeah, I bet you do." Jaehyun is panting, and his thrusts are becoming more erratic. "You're going to cream all over my cock. I'm gonna make a mess out of your pretty little pussy."

You are whimpering and moaning, and the way he's pounding into you, his pelvis slapping against your ass, and the sounds he's making, have you ready to explode.

"Tell me, princess," He pants. "Tell me how much you love the way my cock feels. Tell me how much you love the way I fill you up, and stretch you out. Tell me how good I feel."

"Fuck, Jae," You cry out.

"I'm waiting, princess."

"Fuck, Jae. You feel so good. Your cock is so big, and it's stretching me out. It's making a mess of my pussy, and I can't help but cream all over your cock."

"Fuck, that's it, princess."

"Jaehyun, please. Fuck, don't stop."

"Never, princess."

You have never thought that this would ever happen, you and Jaehyun. You were happy being just friends, and the feelings you had for him were always pushed to the side. You didn't want to lose him as a friend, and so you suffered in silence, pining over him, and wanting him so badly.

But now, right now, in this moment, he is yours, and he is making love to you, and telling you that he has always wanted you and that he wants to be with you. And you are feeling so many emotions. You are so overwhelmed. It is a dream come true.

Jaehyun is panting, and his cock is twitching inside of you, and you are close to the edge. Your body is trembling, and your toes are curling, and your pussy is clenching tightly around his cock as he slides in and out of you.

"Fuck," You pant. "I'm close."

"Me too, princess." He is panting and grunting, and he's slamming into you, and the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoes through the room.

"Fuck," Jaehyun moans.

"Come on, baby," You whimper. "Fill me up, Jaehyun. Give me everything that you have."

"Yeah, I'm gonna fill your pretty little pussy up. I'm gonna fill it with my cum. You want that, princess?"

"Yes," You are gasping. "I want your cum, Jae. Please. Fill my pussy up."

"Yeah, I'm gonna paint those walls of your pussy with my cum. And then, I'm gonna pull out, and you're gonna be leaking with my cum."

"Fuck, Jaehyun."

"You're going to be a mess."

"Jae," You are whimpering.

"Your pussy is gonna be leaking with my cum. You're gonna smell like me, and everyone is gonna know you're mine."

"Yes, Jaehyun. I'm yours. I've always been yours."

"Oh, god, fuck. Y/N." Jaehyun groans and his hips continue to slam against yours. "You're so good, baby. So, so good."

"Fuck!" You are whimpering and your toes are curling, and it is the most intense orgasm you have ever had. Your whole body is shaking, and you are coming undone, and Jaehyun is fucking you through it, and his fingers are digging into your hips.

"Yeah, princess. Come all over my cock." Jaehyun is groaning and his voice is thick and deep. "You feel so fucking good."

Jaehyun's body is trembling, and his fingers are digging into your hips, and his cock is twitching. His breath is ragged, and his moans are loud and low. Jaehyun is spilling his release inside of you, his warm, sticky, seed filling up your core.

You are both panting, and the room is filled with the scent of sex and sweat, the sound of your breathing, and the sounds of the sheets rustling as your bodies move together. You feel your arms losing their strength but Jaehyun's arm quickly wraps around your waist.

"I got you, princess." He breathes.

You are exhausted, and you want to close your eyes, and you can feel his hand gently rubbing your lower back.

"Hey, hey, don't fall asleep on me. Stay awake." Jaehyun chuckles.

"Jae, I'm so fucking tired."

"I know, princess, but we still have to clean you up, okay? Can you stand up for me?"

"Yes, Jaehyun," You whisper.

"Good girl," Jaehyun whispers. "Come on, I'm going to help you."

He is holding onto you, and he's guiding you towards the bathroom.

"I'll run a bath." Jaehyun is pulling away, and his fingers are brushing against your cheek.

"You don't have to do that, Jae. You can just take a shower. We can clean up together." You smile, and his fingers are tracing the shape of your jaw.

"Baby, I'm trying to be sweet. I want to take care of you." Jaehyun smiles and kisses the tip of your nose.

You can't help but blush. "I know, Jae. I just don't want you to think that you have to go above and beyond."

"Trust me, princess, I don't mind. Now, let's get in the tub."

You can feel the butterflies in your stomach, and the smile on your face, and you're pretty sure you're glowing.

The bath is warm, and the water is nice and soothing, and it's making you sleepy. You want to lean back and rest your head on Jaehyun's chest, but you know that if you do that, you're going to fall asleep.

"Hey, no sleeping." Jaehyun laughs. "You can sleep once I get you in bed, okay?"

"I can't promise anything." You chuckle.

"How about I wash your hair, and then we'll go to bed, hmm?"

"Fine," You laugh.

You have to admit, the feeling of Jaehyun's fingers massaging your scalp, and washing your hair, feels amazing. It makes you even more relaxed. Jaehyun is wrapping his arms around you, and he's kissing the back of your neck.

"How do you feel?" He asks, his lips brushing against your skin. “I didn’t hurt your or anything, did I?”

“You didn’t hurt me at all.” You shook your head. “I felt good. Really, really good.”

"You should feel really good. That was amazing."

You smile and rest your head on his shoulder. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," You giggle.

"Baby, you have no idea."

"So, what does this mean for us?" You ask, fingers entwined with his.

"What do you want it to mean, princess?" Jaehyun asks in a deep voice.

"I want this to be real. I want you to be mine, Jae." You confess, your heart racing.

"Good, because that's exactly what I want, too. I've wanted it for a long time. I was just scared." Jaehyun says.

"Scared of what?" You ask.

"Scared that you'd say no," Jaehyun says.

"Why would I say no?"

"Because, Y/N, I'm not good for you. I'm not the guy who deserves you. I'm a mess, and I'm fucked up, and I'm not good enough for you." Jaehyun confesses.

"You're good enough for me, Jae." You assure him.

"Baby, no I'm not." Jaehyun shakes his head.

"Yes, you are." You tell him.

"Y/N, I've been in love with you for a while, and I've been terrified of telling you because I was afraid that you'd reject me. That's why I see other girls. It's to try and forget about how much I love you. But, it's impossible. You're the only girl I see." Jaehyun says.

"I guess we're both idiots, huh?" You laugh. "Here I was thinking that you only date other girls because you only saw me as a friend, and here you are, telling me that you've been in love with me the whole time."

"We really are idiots, huh?" Jaehyun chuckles.

“You know I love you right?” You turn your head and look at him.

Jaehyun looks down at you. "I love you, too."

You have never seen a more sincere smile, and the look in his eyes tells you that he means every word.

He loves you, and you love him.

And it feels like the most wonderful thing in the world.

"So, where do we go from here, Jae?" You ask.

"Well… I'd love to take you out on a date and we can start from there…" Jaehyun says, his hands gently rubbing your shoulders. "Granted that we already had mind-blowing sex, and we're taking a bath together, I think we're kind of past that stage."

You can't help but laugh.

"I'd love to go on a date with you, Jaehyun." You kissed him.

Jaehyun cups your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks, and his lips are soft against yours. His tongue is slowly sliding into your mouth, and his teeth are gently biting down on your lower lip.

You moan into his mouth, and your hands are grabbing at his hair.

"Y/N," Jaehyun mumbles.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think you can handle a second round?" Jaehyun asks, and his hand is sliding down your back.

"What do you mean?" You ask.

"I'm saying, baby, I want you. Again. Right now." Jaehyun grins.

"I don't think my legs can handle a second round, Jae." You laugh.

"That's okay, baby, we can just stay in the bath." Jaehyun chuckles, and he's lifting your hips and placing you on his lap, sliding into you. "I'll do all the work. How does that sound, princess?"

"You're insatiable, Jaehyun." You giggle, and you're cupping his face, kissing him and he's kissing you back.

"You have no idea, baby."

#kvanity #nct #nct 127 #nct stories #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct smut #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jeong jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun x reader

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yeahxsurexokay13 · 6 months ago

Text

wagnifesting, lando norris

summary: y/n is lando's best friend but everyone keeps manifesting for her to be something more.

warning: like 2 swear words.

fc: sophia weber

hope you like it!! x

y/n.y/l 📍monaco

Liked by pierregasly and 327.085 others

y/n.y/l 72h in monaco 🍝🍾🏁🖤

view all 1.040 comments

username Lando's biggest supporter 🧡

username the pic with kika is so cute aww!! ❤️ by author

username last slide is giving date

username she went to dinner with kika and alex! kika posted about it 😊

username Pretty 😍

username MY BOI LANDO!!!! LETS GOOOO ❤️ by author

francisca.cgomes Missed youuuuu ❤️❤️

y/n.y/l missed u more lindaaaa ♥️

username if you ever need someone to carry your bags on these trips, I volunteer as tribute (please)

alexandrasaintmleux Sooo good to see you ❤️

y/n.y/l you too lovelyyy ♥️

username you're so pretty it's unreal omg

username tired of pretending i don't pray it's a confirmation post everytime i get the notification that you've posted

landonorris See you again in 10 years when you decide to come to another race

y/n.y/l let me know when you plan on winning so i can go to that one x

username shE DID NOT

username omg savage

username she's my favourite wag and she's not even one! @/landonorris put an end to that 🫣🫣

username PAPAYAAAAA 🧡 you ate with that outfit

29 May 2023

landonorris

Liked by maxfewtrell and 830.891 others

landonorris Nothing better then a day with friends. First time trying wakeboarding 🤙🏼 Edited

view all 3.001 comments

username so ummmm i think this is him doing something @/username 👁️👄👁️

username i cheered

username bro really said let me fix the mess i made and posted that last pic

username Lando I wasn't prepared

username Best way to spend a day off :)

username he still has a y/n phew

username it's been a tough 2 days for y/nlando nation

y/n .y/l than*** you edited it and it's still wrong you muppet

landonorris I'm blocking you ❤️

username aw young love

username love to see it

username a day off with friends, but y/n is the only one who gets a special mention 😌😌😌

11 June 2023

y/n.y/l

📍 silverstone circuit

Liked by charles_leclerc and 498.934 others

y/n.y/l silverstoneeeeeeeeeeee 🏎️ podium for my boy at his home race!!! (((:

view all 1.808 comments

username Another amazing race for him, congrats!

username "mY bOY" !!!!!!!!!!!!! ok i'm totally chill about this

username You looked incredible yesterday!!!💖

username no one provides us with lando content quite like you we need you to attend every single race weekend !!!

username THE SECOND TO LAST PIC HAHAHA

maxfewtrell Sorry, but were you there by yourself or?

y/n.y/l it did feel like i was with how much p and you were ignoring me to be all lovey dovey with each other (🤢)

maxfewtrell is that jealousy speaking?

username EXPOSED 🫢

username please just date already

username so happy for him grabbing that podium spot at silverstone 🧡

landonorris P2 AND A TROPHY BABYYYYY ❤️ thank you y/n/n

y/n.y/l ♥️

username see this is why punctuation is so important 🫢🫢

username @/username i don't get it?

username @/username there's no comma so we could say baby is being used to address y/n!!!!!

username @/username delusion 2 - 0 common sense !!!!

09 July 2023

y/n.y/l posted a story!

#social media au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris smau #lando norris social media au #ln4 smau #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #best friend!reader

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httpsserene · 2 months ago

Text

𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 | 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨

summary: nobody can keep up with your growing list of hobbies, except fernando.

pairing: fernando alonso x brazilian!fem!reader

content warning: fluff and humor. explicit language.

from, serene: requested by and written for @loomiscorpse 🤍 i promised that i would write this for you in july and i finally found the time to fulfill it! this is how i learned fernando has a back tat. what rock have i been living under? happy reading, babes xxx

(in case i'm m.i.a., there's a category 5 hurricane that's looks pretty serious. i'm probably going to have a power outage. prayers to anyone else in the path of the storm, evacuate if you're on the west coast, and stay safe.)

⌕ join taglist | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻

igstory • yourinstagram just uploaded!

[caption1; sip and paint with the ladies 👩🏽‍🎨🎨 carmenmmundt kellypiquet][caption2; for my first painting, this is good right?]

alexandrasaintmleux: i'll put it in a gallery 🤩 alexandrasaintmleux: i can't believe i'm friends with the best artist of our time 😌 yourinstagram: alex pleaseee omg 😳🤭 yourinstagram: you realize that means you think i'm better than claude monet right ? alexandrasaintmleux: ,,,second best artist of our time yourinstagram: 😆😆😆

fernandoalo_official: looks beautiful 😍 yourinstagram: you really think so??? fernandoalo_official: yes i like what you did with the colors and brush strokes of course yourinstagram: what detailed compliments meu bem 😂

carmenmmundt: i still don't believe that you've never painted before 🤨 carmenmmundt: you did so well !!!!!! yourinstagram: thank you my love 🥰 yourinstagram: i think i am going to keep painting. it was very fun! carmenmmundt: you should! you're quite good at it :)

instagram • yourinstagram

liked by heidiberger_, fernandoalo_official, francisca.cgomes and 101,723 others

yourinstagram encontro noturno em cores 🖼️

view comments

user1: ptbr to eng translation "date night in color 🖼️"

user2: wow!!! you improved so much already! have you been taking lessons?

➥ yourinstagram: thank you! the only lessons i'm learning are from youtube haha ➥ yourinstagram: and i have painted every day since i started! ➥ user3: you definitely have a natural talent for this! and a lot of potential!!! ➥ user4: it's taken me years to develop a minimal understanding of color theory and shadows. she's done it in two weeks 😕

user5: i know leonardo hates that he didn't paint this 😩😩😩

➥ user6: he's rolling in his grave for sureeee 🙂‍↕️ ➥ user7: bitch why tf would a ninja turtle be mad about this ☠️ ➥ user8: leonardo DA VINCI YOU UNEDUCATED CUR ➥ user7: my fault forgot the turtle wasn't the only person named leo 🫣🫠 ➥ user8: HOW DO YOU FORGET THE MAN WHO PAINTED THE MONA LISA ⁉️⁉️⁉️

pepemartiofficial: i loved doing art in school! i can teach you a few things if you want 😁😁😁

➥ yourinstagram: you mean primary school? which was like last year for you? i think i'll pass garoto 🥴 ➥ fernandoalo_official: josep maria marti sobrepepa don't piss me off. ➥ fernandoalo_official: test me and you can say goodbye to a formula one seat. ➥ user9: ain't no way pepe just tried to step to fernando's girl who's TEN !!! years older than him ➥ pepemartiofficial: shhh i can be mature for her 🤤 ➥ fernandoalo_official: count your days 🥱

carlossainz55: the painting is really good, you made the water look so realistic!

➥ yourinstagram: obrigada carlitos! ➥ carlossainz55: where's fernando's painting 😈 ➥ yourinstagram: it was very good! but he did not want me to post a photo of it :((( ➥ fernandoalo_official: it was very ugly carlos 🙄 ➥ yourinstagram: it was not that bad i just could not tell that it was supposed to be a tiger and not a house cat that was struck by lightning 😅 ➥ carlossainz55: i will pay to see this painting 🤣🤣🤣

twitter

igstory • astonmartinf1 just uploaded!

[caption1; admin was just forcibly handed bear coasters ??? she said they remind her of lance 🐻][caption2; the crochet culprit is on to her next project!]

user: lance bear agenda still going strong 💪

lance_stroll: i want bear coasters 😞 astonmartinf1: meet me downstairs, she gave me extras to hand out to the team lance_stroll: she's the best 🤩🤩🤩 lance_stroll: see you in 5?

user: DUDE she's onto clothes already??? how?!!!

user: admin i need you to send me photos of that sketchbook 👺🤲🏻 user: i need her patterns admin i'm not playing around astonmartinf1: lol get blocked loser 💀

instagram • fernandoalo_official

liked by carlossainz55, lance_stroll, yourinstagram and 234,586 others

fernandoalo_official there is yarn and hooks in my car. this has gone too far.

view comments

yourinstagram: you make a man a shirt with the materials HE bought for you and it's a problem. ungrateful behavior nano 😤

➥ fernandoalo_official: the shirt is very nice i even posed for a picture. all i ask is for no hooks to be left in the cupholders? ➥ yourinstagram: can we compromise and i leave them in the glove box 🥺

user10: let me get this straight: you crochet for a month and suddenly you become a fashion designer?

➥ yourinstagram: not a month, three weeks* i have been crocheting ➥ user11: oh fuck off- how are you good at everything 😩😩😩 ➥ yourinstagram: i am not! and i still cannot make a granny square no matter how hard i try to ☹️ ➥ user12: you don't need to know how to make a granny square when you can make actual pieces of clothing!!!

landonorris: may i have something crocheted too?

➥ yourinstagram: what would you like landinho 😊 ➥ landonorris: may i have a beanie? or a sweater?? ➥ georgerussell: ooooh i'd like a beanie too! ➥ francisca.cgomes: i want that top you're wearing! or something similar!!!! ➥ lance_stroll: what about earmuffs? ➥ lilymhe: a cardigan would be so nice ➥ charlesleclerc: i want a sweater!!! ➥ fernandoalo_official: leave her alone you greedy children 👹 ➥ yourinstagram: ignore him! text me what you all want with inspiration photos and i will let you know!!!

messages • sebastian -> fernando

igstory • yourinstagram just uploaded!

[caption1; hobby update >>>][caption2; to the woman at the craft store who put me onto oil paints...you saved my life][caption3; the wag crochet requests are almost finished!][caption4; first pottery class! had a really fun time :)]

user: i-i need to sit down👄 user: how do you even have time to do all of this?

user: i feel like i've never taken my hobbies seriously after seeing this

user: ffs how long have you been doing pottery? user: it's hard to learn at first but it's worth it if you stay committed 🫶🏽

instagram • yourinstagram

liked by charlesleclerc, lilymhe, francolapinto, and 192,037 others

yourinstagram que divertido! thrown, painted, and fired by me 🌸

view comments

user13: this is a reminder that there's always somebody out there doing what you love better than you 😒

➥ user14: wasn't she JUST at her first pottery class? and she already has a set of dishware 😨

user15: i feel like i have to apologize for even attempting pottery

user16: i would hate to give my gift after her on birthdays and christmas 😬😬😬

➥ user17: valid take. she can make custom clothes, paintings, and ceramics??? i might as well not even show up 🤦🏻‍♀️

kellypiquet: where do you even find the time to do this?

➥ yourinstagram: i have not slept for more than five hours in a very long time. it also distracts me when nano is away so, i keep myself busy. ➥ kellypiquet: please take better care of yourself! the clay will be there after you sleep and i'm sure fernando would like you to sleep too. ➥ fernandoalo_official: 8 hours at least mi amor ❤️ ➥ yourinstagram: fiiiiine 😞

lance_stroll: bring the domino set next time! i want to learn how to play!!!

➥ yourinstagram: i will make you cry if we play dominoes 🤫

user18: you need to start an etsy shop or smth? i think anybody would buy something from you!

➥ yourinstagram: if i do that, i'm afraid it would stop being a hobby and become a job. i don't want to lose the love i have for them :) user19: you could do limited releases? or just list a few items at a time? yourinstagram: i guess that's true. i don't think i will though, i didn't start my hobbies to make money. it's just fun for me 😁

twitter

igstory • fernandoalo_official just uploaded!

[caption; onto the next obsession]

user: damn you didn't lie about the entire botantical collection 😧 user: she's crazy user: i respect her grind though

user: and she made them look like actual boquets 😍 user: why didn't i think of that???

yourinstagram: they are not obsessions. yourinstagram: the proper term is hobby, we have talked about this nano 😒 fernandoalo_official: do you want the vespa or the bonsai…🤨 yourinstagram: both por favor! and get the porsche 911 kit while you are there 😚😚😚😚😚😚

user: she crocheted her own cover up dress user: i love women 🙂‍↕️

instagram • yourinstagram

liked by fernandoalo_official, kellypiquet, landonorris, and 317,940 others

yourinstagram um hobby? ok. quatro hobbies ao mesmo tempo? não repita meus erros 🤕

view comments

user20: ptbr to eng translation "one hobby? ok. four hobbies at the same time/once? do not repeat my mistakes 🤕"

➥ user21: thank u translator woman ➥ user22: thank u translator woman ➥ gabrielbortoleto_: thank u translator woman ➥ user24: one of these things is not like the others 🧐

landonorris: can't wait till it gets chilly in monaco 😌

➥ landonorris: the only thing i'm going to be photographed in is my crochet beanie and sweater ➥oscarpiastri: i'm surprised you're not wearing it now since you're perpetually cold ➥ landonorris: i didn't want to bring it in my luggage in case it's the time i lose my luggage 🤓 ➥ oscarpiastri: wow…that's smart ➥ landonorris: why do you sound so surprised 🤨

lilymhe: i see you learned how to make granny squares 😆

➥ yourinstagram: it took me three whole days to make one 🤧 ➥ lilymhe: damn 💀 ➥ yourinstagram: i am not lying when i say making that first granny square was harder than making your cardigan 😮‍💨

fernandoalo_official: is it weird if i feel proud of you?

➥ yourinstagram: i think it is something to be proud of :) ➥ fernandoalo_official: well i am very proud of you mi amor 😘 ➥ yourinstagram: 🥰😚😚❤️❤️❤️

user25: those paintings!!!! woah, you're like a serious artist now 😨😳😱

➥ user26: fr! you can see her own unique style clearly in these! ➥ yourinstagram: you all are too sweet! it took me a while to switch from reference painting into creating my own art pieces! ➥ alexandrasaintmleux: i wasn't joking when i said i want to put your work in a gallery 🤭🥱 ➥ yourinstagram: alex pleaseee 😖

user28: what are you going to do next? book binding LMAO

➥ yourinstagram: you are right! nano is out buying the supplies for me now 😁 ➥ user28: i was joking 😟 ➥ yourinstagram: and after that i think i am going to learn how to make a cute scrapbook!

#f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 x poc!reader #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso smau #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso fanfic #f1 fluff #fernando alonso x poc!reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #fernando alonso x y/n #serene’s chapters.#⋆⭒˚｡⋆. series special: formula 1 #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: fa.

922 notes · View notes

idolomantises · 4 months ago

Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#txt

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gyuuberryy · 2 months ago

Text

a tailored connection

pairing: designer!sunghoon x muse!reader

synopsis: sunghoon, a talented designer, has always harboured feelings for his longtime friend, you. when he invites you to be his muse, the sessions are charged with a tension that neither of you can ignore. as sunghoon’s compliments and intimate moments reveal deeper feelings, a surprising twist shakes your world. with your engagement to someone else looming and sunghoon grappling with his emotions, both of you face a turning point that will challenge everything you thought you knew about love and friendship.

genre: friends to lovers, both are fools in love

warnings: looot of tension, angst!! , kissing, crying, not really proofread

note: aaand with this royally yours comes to an end, i had a great time writing it! where can i get a man who makes me dresses like this :( i hope you enjoy reading this<3

word count: 16.8k

royally yours masterlist | prev:jake

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the sound of laughter echoes through the village streets, a memory woven into the fabric of your childhood. sunghoon had always been there, his presence as familiar to you as the sky above. you grew up side by side—first as playmates, then as something more complicated, though neither of you had the words for it yet.

it started with simple things. the way he’d hold out his hand to help you over the stones in the river, his grip firm but gentle. the way he’d always save the last piece of the bread he bought for lunch, handing it to you with a shy grin. and the way he’d linger just a bit longer when you hugged him goodbye, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go.

you were never apart for long, always finding reasons to be in each other’s company. as children, you’d run wild through the village, a pair of inseparable companions. the streets had been your playground, the trees your hideout, and the open fields your kingdom.

sunghoon was the one who taught you how to climb trees, his long limbs making it look easy as he scrambled up the tallest one in the village square. you’d followed him then, determined to keep up with him no matter what, your competitive spirit something he both teased and admired.

“come on, you can do it,” he’d called down to you one day, perched on a sturdy branch high above, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’m not leaving you behind.”

“i’m not going to be left behind,” you’d retorted, climbing faster, though your hands were trembling. you didn’t want to admit it, but heights terrified you.

sunghoon had seen through you, though, like he always did. when you reached the top, his hand had shot out to steady you, his touch reassuring. “see? i told you,” he said, smiling in that soft way that always made you feel warm inside.

that was how it always was—sunghoon pushing you to be braver, to go further, but always there to catch you if you stumbled.

as you grew older, the carefree days of your childhood evolved into something quieter, but no less meaningful. sunghoon’s passion for design began to bloom, his sketchbook always tucked under his arm, filled with dresses, cloaks, and the kind of ornate embroidery that would make any noble gasp. he’d spend hours at the village tailor’s shop, learning from the master tailor, and you’d sit in the corner, watching him work, admiring the way his hands moved with precision and care.

“why don’t you just play outside like the other girls?” the old tailor would often ask you, shaking his head with a smile. “this place is no fun for someone your age.”

you’d always smile back, knowing full well why you stayed. “i don’t mind. besides, i like watching sunghoon.”

sunghoon would look up from his work then, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “she’s my best critic,” he’d say, as if that explained everything.

but it wasn’t just about watching him work. there was something in the quiet moments between you, in the way you understood each other without having to say a word. he would sketch something and glance up, catching your eye, and you’d know exactly what he was thinking. he didn’t have to say it.

the bond between you deepened with every passing year, though the village seemed blind to it. to everyone else, you were just friends, nothing more. but there were moments—fleeting, subtle—when you felt something stirring between you, something neither of you dared to speak aloud.

it wasn’t until one late afternoon, when the two of you were sitting under the large oak tree at the edge of the village, that you truly realised how much he meant to you.

the summer sun cast a golden glow over the fields, the breeze carrying the scent of wildflowers. you were both quiet, simply enjoying each other’s company. sunghoon had his sketchbook open on his lap, his charcoal pencil moving lazily across the page. you were watching him, as you often did, wondering what it would be like to have your portrait sketched by him. would he see you differently if he looked at you that way? would the feelings you’d kept locked inside for so long show on your face?

“what are you drawing this time?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence. it was always your way of trying to sneak a glimpse into the world that sunghoon poured into his designs.

he looked up, startled from his thoughts, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. “just... a dress,” he said, and though it sounded like a simple answer, there was a softness in his voice that made you curious.

“a dress?” you echoed, smiling. “for who?”

“for... no one in particular,” he murmured, closing the book before you could peek at it. “just an idea.”

you tilted your head, studying him. “you’ve been spending a lot of time on these designs lately. are you preparing for something big?”

he shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “maybe. i’ve been thinking about... making something new. something different. i don’t want to just follow the same old patterns forever.”

you nodded, understanding. sunghoon had always been ambitious, but his talent had begun to outgrow the small village you lived in. you knew it was only a matter of time before he would have to leave—venture into the capital or even beyond to showcase his work.

“whatever it is, you’ll be amazing at it,” you said, your voice steady, though your chest tightened at the thought of him leaving.

he glanced at you then, his expression unreadable. “you really think so?”

“of course,” you replied without hesitation. “i’ve always believed in you.”

the words felt heavier than they should have, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. sunghoon’s gaze lingered on you, something unspoken flickering in his eyes, but just as quickly, he looked away, his fingers nervously tapping the cover of his sketchbook.

“i couldn’t have come this far without you,” he said, his voice quiet. “you’ve always been there for me.”

you smiled softly, nudging him with your shoulder. “that’s what friends are for, right?”

but even as you said it, the word “friends” felt inadequate—too small to hold the depth of what you felt for him. and though you couldn’t say it aloud, you wondered if sunghoon felt the same.

as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the fields, the two of you sat in silence, side by side. in the fading light, everything felt suspended—like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

but neither of you moved, and the unspoken feelings between you remained just that—unspoken.

for now.

the day had started like any other. you were making your way through the village, the familiar sights and sounds surrounding you—children running through the streets, merchants shouting their daily specials, and the distant clang of the blacksmith’s hammer. but today, something felt different. there was an odd flutter in your stomach, though you couldn’t quite place why. perhaps it was because you were heading to sunghoon’s workshop, as you often did, or perhaps it was something else.

his shop had grown over the years, its modest space now brimming with elegant fabrics and mannequins draped in partially finished garments. sunghoon had worked tirelessly, his name slowly gaining recognition beyond the village, though he remained humble about his achievements. it had become a routine for you to visit him, to sit in the corner while he worked, offering your thoughts or simply watching the magic unfold under his skilled hands.

when you arrived, the door was slightly ajar, and you pushed it open to find sunghoon standing at his worktable, deep in thought. his back was turned to you, the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the window and casting a soft glow around him. he was focused, hunched over a sketch, his pencil moving in rapid strokes, as if he were chasing some fleeting inspiration.

you stepped inside quietly, not wanting to disturb him. he was always at his best when he was lost in his work—his mind far away from the village, immersed in a world of silk and satin, seams and stitches. but even in those moments, it wasn’t uncommon for him to sense your presence before you spoke.

today, though, he was more distracted than usual. he didn’t notice you until you were almost beside him, peeking over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his newest creation. “what’s this one?” you asked lightly, hoping not to startle him.

he jumped slightly, straightening up and turning to face you, a small smile forming on his lips when he saw it was you. “you’re early.”

you raised an eyebrow. “am i interrupting?”

“no, not at all,” he said, closing the sketchbook and setting it aside. “i was just... thinking.”

“you do that a lot,” you teased, leaning against the edge of the worktable. “what’s on your mind today?”

for a moment, he didn’t answer. his gaze drifted toward the window, his fingers playing absentmindedly with the hem of a piece of fabric. you could see there was something weighing on him, but sunghoon had always been the type to choose his words carefully, never speaking until he was sure of what he wanted to say.

finally, he turned back to you, his expression serious but soft. “i’ve been working on something new. something important.”

you crossed your arms, intrigued. “i figured as much. you’ve been spending even more time here than usual. what is it? a new collection?”

“not exactly,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “it’s... different this time. i want to create something that’s truly mine, something that will set me apart. but to do that, i need help.”

you blinked, surprised. sunghoon rarely asked for help, especially when it came to his designs. “help? from me?”

he nodded slowly, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart skip. “i want you to be my muse.”

the words hung in the air between you, heavier than you’d expected. muse. it wasn’t just a word—it was a role that carried meaning. in a way, you’d always been part of sunghoon’s creative process, offering suggestions or simply being there to share in his successes and frustrations. but this... this was something else entirely.

you shifted your weight, suddenly feeling a little unsure. “a muse? what do you mean?”

“i mean...” he hesitated, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. “i’ve been designing dresses, outfits for people i’ve never even met. but none of them feel personal. none of them feel real. i want to create something that speaks to me, and to do that, i need someone who inspires me. someone i know. someone... like you.”

your breath caught in your throat. the way he said it, the way his eyes lingered on you—it was impossible to ignore the meaning behind his words. he wasn’t just asking you to be part of his work; he was asking you to be at the centre of it. to be the person he looked at, thought about, dreamed about while he created. and that idea stirred something inside you that you hadn’t been prepared for.

“i don’t know if i’d make a very good muse,” you said, trying to laugh it off, though your heart was racing.

sunghoon stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “you’re perfect for it. you’ve always been perfect.”

the air between you shifted, growing warmer, heavier with tension. it wasn’t the first time he’d complimented you—he was always kind, always thoughtful—but this felt different. his words weren’t casual or lighthearted. they carried weight, an unspoken truth that had been building between you for years.

you felt the heat rise in your cheeks, your throat tightening. being his muse meant more than just standing still while he draped fabric around you. it meant letting him see you, really see you, in ways that no one else ever had. it felt intimate, like a part of you would be etched into every piece he made.

“what would that mean for us?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

sunghoon blinked, startled by the question. “what do you mean?”

“you and i,” you clarified, feeling the weight of the words. “if i agree... won’t it change things between us?”

for a long moment, sunghoon didn’t speak. he seemed to consider your words, his eyes searching your face as if trying to decipher your feelings. finally, he took a deep breath, stepping even closer, so close now that you could feel the warmth of his body. “maybe it will,” he admitted, his voice soft but steady. “but maybe it’s already changed. maybe it’s been different for a long time.”

his words hit you like a wave, the truth in them undeniable. he was right. things had changed—slowly, quietly—but neither of you had ever dared to acknowledge it. until now.

your heart hammered in your chest, the weight of his confession settling over you like a blanket. you could feel the tension between you, crackling like the air before a storm. there was something fragile, something precious hanging between you, and the slightest word or movement could shatter it.

but then, without thinking, you made your decision.

“i’ll do it,” you said, your voice barely audible, but firm.

sunghoon’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise and relief passing across his face. “you will?”

you nodded, your gaze never leaving his. “yes. i’ll be your muse.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the silence stretched, heavy with the unspoken feelings that had been buried for so long. and then, slowly, sunghoon’s lips curved into the softest smile—a smile that reached his eyes and made something inside you melt.

“thank you,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours, and for a brief, electrifying moment, it felt as if time stood still. you were acutely aware of how close he was, how much more intimate things had become between you in just a few short minutes.

you smiled back, though your heart was pounding. “i think it’ll be fun.”

sunghoon laughed softly, the sound low and warm, and the tension between you seemed to ease, just a little. but even as you both fell into a more comfortable silence, you knew that things between you had changed. there was no going back now.

the sun was beginning to set as you made your way to sunghoon’s shop, a soft, golden glow spreading across the village. it had been only a few days since you agreed to be his muse, but the weight of that decision still lingered in your mind. there was a sense of anticipation, an underlying current of excitement that thrummed through you, but also an edge of nervousness that you couldn’t shake.

you had always been comfortable around sunghoon, but this felt different. it wasn’t just visiting a friend; you were stepping into a role that felt intimate in ways you hadn’t quite expected. and you knew that once you crossed the threshold of his workshop today, something between you would shift again.

when you arrived, sunghoon was already waiting. the door was propped open, and you could hear the faint sounds of rustling fabric and the occasional scratch of his pencil against paper. you hesitated for a moment at the doorway, taking a deep breath before stepping inside.

sunghoon looked up as soon as you entered, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “you came,” he said, sounding almost relieved.

“of course i did,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light despite the quickening of your pulse. “i’m your muse now, remember?”

his smile widened just a little, and he motioned for you to come in. “right. my muse.”

the word still felt strange on your tongue, and hearing him say it made something flutter in your chest. you glanced around the room, noticing that he had cleared some space near the large windows where the light poured in. rolls of fabric were neatly arranged, sketchbooks stacked nearby, and a dress form stood at the centre, waiting to be draped with something new.

you stepped closer, feeling the warmth of the sunlight against your skin, but also the weight of sunghoon’s gaze on you. his eyes followed your every movement, a soft intensity in them that made the space between you feel smaller, more charged.

“so, where do we start?” you asked, forcing a smile to break the tension that was building in the room.

sunghoon set down his pencil and moved to stand beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he reached for a roll of fabric. “i was thinking we’d start by figuring out what you like. i want to design something that feels like you—not just any dress, but one that you’d wear and feel... beautiful in.”

the way he said the word beautiful made your stomach flip. you swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the way his voice lingered on the compliment.

“what i like?” you repeated, frowning slightly. “i’m not sure. i mean, i’ve never really thought about it.”

sunghoon raised an eyebrow, glancing over at you with a small smile. “you’ve never thought about what you like in dresses? after all this time of coming here and watching me work?”

you laughed, a little nervous. “i guess i’ve always been more interested in what you were making for other people.”

“well,” he said, his voice softening, “now it’s time to think about what’s right for you.”

he moved closer, picking up a few pieces of fabric and holding them up to the light. “what do you think of these? what colours feel like you?”

you eyed the fabrics he held—a deep emerald green, a soft blush pink, and a striking midnight blue. each one seemed to carry a different weight, a different mood, and the idea of choosing one for yourself felt strangely personal.

“i’m not sure,” you admitted, reaching out to touch the green fabric. “i’ve always liked green, but... i don’t know if it suits me.”

sunghoon tilted his head, his eyes flickering over you, as if he were studying you in a way he hadn’t before. “it suits you,” he said quietly, the certainty in his voice catching you off guard. “it brings out your eyes. but so would the blue.”

you blinked, surprised by the compliment. sunghoon wasn’t one to flatter people needlessly, especially not you. his compliments usually came in the form of casual remarks, offhand observations about how a colour might work or how you carried yourself in a certain style. but this—this was different. there was something in his tone, in the way he looked at you now, that felt far more intimate.

you felt your face grow warm under his gaze, suddenly self-conscious. “you think so?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“i know so,” he replied, his eyes never leaving yours. “you have a way of making things look better just by wearing them. it’s not just about the dress—it’s about how you wear it.”

the room seemed to shrink, the air between you growing heavier with each passing second. you hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to speak so plainly, so openly. sunghoon had always been composed, professional, even around you. but now, there was something more vulnerable in the way he spoke, something unguarded.

you cleared your throat, trying to break the moment before it became too much. “well, what about styles then? i’ve always liked simpler designs. nothing too extravagant.”

sunghoon nodded thoughtfully, his eyes still lingering on you, as if he were trying to memorise every detail of your expression. “simple suits you,” he murmured. “but there’s something about you that deserves more. something elegant.”

“elegant?” you echoed, unsure of where this was coming from.

“mm,” he hummed, reaching for his sketchbook. “you’ve always carried yourself with a kind of grace—like you don’t even realise how beautiful you are.”

your breath hitched. you stared at him, your heart pounding louder in your chest as his words hung in the air between you. this wasn’t just a compliment—it was something else. something deeper. and the realisation of it hit you like a wave.

sunghoon, too, seemed to realise the weight of what he’d just said. he quickly looked away, focusing on his sketchbook as if he could take the words back by drowning them in his work. “i didn’t mean to... i mean...”

you stood there for a moment, unsure of how to respond. you had never thought of yourself the way sunghoon was describing you now, and the fact that he saw you like this—it was overwhelming. you could feel the tension crackling between you, the unspoken feelings that had always lingered beneath the surface suddenly threatening to rise.

“i just... think you should have something that shows who you are,” sunghoon continued, his voice quieter now, more careful. “not just as my muse, but as you. something that makes people stop and see you the way i do.”

your pulse quickened at his words, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to speak. the way he was looking at you now, with an intensity you hadn’t seen before, made it feel like the walls of the workshop were closing in.

you glanced down, trying to focus on the fabric in your hands, but the weight of his gaze lingered. “sunghoon... i don’t know what to say.”

he shook his head, stepping back slightly as if to give you space. “you don’t have to say anything. i just... i want you to feel beautiful in whatever i make for you. that’s all.”

there was a long pause, the only sound in the room being the soft rustle of fabric as you ran your fingers over the green material again. your mind was spinning, your heart racing, and yet you couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through you at his words. it wasn’t just the compliment—it was the way he saw you, the way he always had.

finally, you looked up, meeting his gaze once more. “i trust you, sunghoon. i always have.”

his eyes softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “good,” he said quietly. “because i promise, whatever we create together, it’s going to be something unforgettable.”

the light from the late afternoon sun bathed sunghoon’s workshop in a golden hue, casting long shadows that stretched across the room. you stood near the centre, nervously smoothing the fabric of your dress as sunghoon readied his tools. he had done this countless times—measuring clients for garments—but somehow, this felt different. more intimate. more real.

“alright,” he said, his voice a little too casual as he approached with a measuring tape in hand. “this won’t take long.”

you nodded, trying to keep your breathing steady as you watched him move closer. sunghoon had always been meticulous when it came to his work, his hands sure and steady, but today there was a faint tremor in them as he unspooled the tape.

“so, uh,” he began, his gaze flickering between your face and the tape in his hands. “we’ll start with your shoulders. just... relax.”

you forced a smile, though the tension in the air was impossible to ignore. “i’m relaxed.”

he shot you a look that said he wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t argue. he stepped behind you, and you could feel his presence—warm, steady—just inches away. the fabric of your dress shifted slightly as he gently placed the tape around your shoulders, his fingers grazing your skin ever so lightly. the contact sent a shiver down your spine, though you tried your best to suppress it.

for a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft rustling of the measuring tape as he adjusted it. you could feel your heart beating faster, your pulse quickening with each passing second. sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed to be holding his breath, as if he were just as aware of the closeness as you were.

“alright,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, more focused. “now your waist.”

he stepped around to face you, his gaze briefly meeting yours before dropping to the tape in his hands. his movements were careful, almost hesitant, as he crouched slightly, bringing the tape around your waist. you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry as his fingers brushed the sides of your dress, the heat of his touch lingering longer than it should have.

the proximity, the feel of his hands so close to you—it was almost too much. you bit your lip, fighting the urge to fidget under his intense concentration. sunghoon had always been calm, composed, but now there was an unmistakable tension in the air, a subtle awkwardness that made your heart race even faster.

he straightened up, pulling the tape taut as he noted your measurements. “i... uh,” he began, clearing his throat slightly, “i’ll need to get your bust next.”

you blinked, feeling your face grow warm. “oh. right.”

it wasn’t as if you hadn’t expected it—this was part of the process, after all—but somehow the idea of sunghoon taking that particular measurement felt... different. the room seemed smaller, the air thicker as you watched him struggle to keep his composure.

his hand hovered for a moment, clearly unsure of what to do. “i—uh,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “just... hold still.”

you nodded, though you could feel the flush rising to your cheeks as he brought the tape around your chest, his fingers brushing the fabric of your dress with the lightest touch. his face was close now—closer than it had ever been—his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you.

neither of you spoke. the silence stretched, heavy with the unspoken desires that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. his fingers fumbled slightly as he adjusted the tape, and for a brief moment, his hand brushed against your skin, sending a shock of electricity through you.

you inhaled sharply, your breath hitching at the unexpected contact, and sunghoon froze. his eyes flicked up to meet yours, wide and startled, as if he hadn’t meant to let the moment slip.

“sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “i didn’t mean to...”

“it’s fine,” you said quickly, though your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

but he didn’t move away. his hand remained where it was, the heat of his palm radiating through the fabric. you could feel every inch of him—every breath, every subtle movement—and the closeness was dizzying. there was something in his eyes, something unspoken, that made your pulse race even faster.

you swallowed hard, your voice barely steady as you spoke. “sunghoon...”

he blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and quickly stepped back, dropping the measuring tape as if it had burned him. “i—i think that’s enough for now,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck again, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “i’ve got what i need.”

you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. “are you sure? i mean, if you need more measurements—”

“no!” he said, perhaps a little too quickly, then cleared his throat. “i mean, no. we’re good. i’ve got everything.”

the tension between you was palpable, thick and heavy, but neither of you knew how to break it. sunghoon busied himself with gathering the tape and jotting down notes, though his movements were jerky, his usual calm demeanour nowhere to be found.

you watched him, feeling a strange mix of emotions swirling in your chest. there was an awkwardness, yes, but also something else—something that had been building between you for a long time, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to spill over.

finally, sunghoon spoke again, though his voice was softer now, almost hesitant. “you know,” he said, not meeting your eyes, “you really do have... perfect proportions.”

your heart skipped a beat, his words catching you completely off guard. “what?”

he cleared his throat, rubbing his neck awkwardly once more. “i mean... for the dress,” he added quickly, as if trying to backtrack. “you have a really... balanced figure. for tailoring, i mean.”

you blinked, taken aback by the sudden compliment, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. it wasn’t just what he said—it was the way he said it. the way his voice softened, the way he fidgeted under your gaze, as if he were revealing more than he intended.

“i... thanks?” you managed, feeling your cheeks burn with a mix of surprise and awkwardness.

sunghoon gave you a tight-lipped smile, clearly as flustered as you were. “yeah. no problem.”

the silence that followed was thick and heavy, both of you too aware of the tension that had settled over the room like a heavy blanket. sunghoon quickly turned away, busying himself with his sketches, but the weight of the moment lingered in the air, unspoken but undeniable.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart, but you knew—no matter how much you both tried to pretend otherwise—something between you had shifted. and neither of you were quite ready to confront it yet.

the days following that first measurement session seemed to blur together, each one filled with quiet moments, shared glances, and unspoken words that hung heavy in the air. sunghoon had thrown himself into the design, sketching feverishly as if creating your dress had become not just his project, but his obsession. every stroke of his pencil seemed deliberate, every detail in the fabric a reflection of how closely he had studied you—not just your body, but you as a person.

the workshop had become a second home to you, and you found yourself spending more and more time there as the dress took shape. each day, you would come in, greeted by the soft sounds of scissors slicing through fabric and the rhythmic hum of sunghoon’s needle as he stitched delicate patterns. his focus was unbreakable, yet there was always that moment when he would pause, look at you, and give a small, almost shy smile, as if he still couldn’t believe you were there, helping him create something so personal.

the tension between you grew thicker with every passing day. it was as if the fabric sunghoon was weaving was also binding the two of you together in ways neither of you had expected. there were the long stretches of silence, where the only sound was the soft brush of fabric against your skin as he worked, and then there were the moments when his hand would linger just a little too long as he adjusted the fit of a sleeve or pinned the hem of a skirt.

each session brought a new creation—a new dress, a new style. it had become almost routine: he would sketch out his ideas, asking for your thoughts on the design, and then you would model the fabric as he draped it over you, pinning it into place before moving on to the next step. but no matter how professional sunghoon tried to keep things, there was always that spark of something more lurking beneath the surface.

one afternoon, as you stood in the centre of the room, sunghoon paced around you, scrutinising the latest dress he had draped over your frame. this one was softer than the others, a light cream-coloured gown with delicate embroidery along the bodice. you could feel the weight of his gaze as he circled you, studying every fold, every contour, as if he were memorising the shape of you through the fabric.

“what do you think?” he asked, his voice quiet but steady, his eyes focused entirely on you.

you glanced down at the dress, running your fingers over the soft fabric. “it’s beautiful,” you murmured. “you’ve really outdone yourself.”

sunghoon didn’t respond right away. instead, he stepped closer, his brow furrowing slightly as he adjusted the neckline of the gown. his fingers grazed your collarbone as he worked, sending a shiver through you. he seemed to hesitate, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary, before he cleared his throat and stepped back.

“i’m trying to capture... something,” he said, his voice trailing off as he picked up his pencil and notepad, scribbling down a few notes. “something that feels... like you.”

you blinked, surprised by his words. “like me?”

he nodded, not looking up from his notes. “it’s not just about the dress. it’s about how you move, how you carry yourself. i want to create something that feels like it belongs to you. not just any dress, but... your dress.”

there it was again—that intensity in his words, the way he seemed to see you in ways no one else ever had. you weren’t sure how to respond, so you simply nodded, letting the moment settle between you.

the sessions continued like this over the next two weeks, each one more charged than the last. sunghoon worked tirelessly, sketching new designs late into the night, and every day you would return to see the progress he had made. he would greet you with that familiar smile, sometimes shy, sometimes teasing, and you would fall into the rhythm of your muse-and-artist routine.

but there was something else growing between you, something neither of you could ignore. each time sunghoon draped a new fabric over your shoulders, each time his fingers brushed your skin as he measured or adjusted the fit, the unspoken tension between you deepened. his compliments, once casual and light, became more thoughtful, more personal.

one day, as he worked on the finishing touches of a new gown—a soft lavender dress with delicate lace trimming—he paused, glancing at you from across the room. “you know,” he said, his voice softer than usual, “i’ve always known you were beautiful.”

you froze, your heart skipping a beat at his sudden confession. he didn’t meet your eyes, instead focusing on the hem of the dress as he stitched. “i just... i don’t think i’ve ever told you that,” he continued, his voice almost hesitant.

the words hung in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. sunghoon had always been complimentary in his own way—praising your grace or your proportions for the sake of his designs—but this was different. there was something raw, something vulnerable in his tone that made your chest tighten.

“sunghoon,” you began, but he quickly shook his head, cutting you off before you could continue.

“i’m not saying it for any reason,” he said quickly, his hands still busy with his stitching. “i just... i think it’s something you should know. you’re more than just a muse to me.”

your breath caught in your throat. the weight of his words was impossible to ignore now, the line between friend and something more growing blurrier with each passing day.

you watched him work, his brow furrowed in concentration as he focused on the task at hand. the quiet intimacy of the moment settled around you like a soft cloak, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else existed outside of this room—just you, sunghoon, and the delicate threads of connection that were slowly being woven together.

by the time he finished the lavender dress, the air between you had shifted once again. there was no denying the feelings that had been bubbling beneath the surface for so long, but neither of you were ready to confront them. not yet.

“i think it’s done,” sunghoon said quietly, stepping back to admire the dress.

you turned, catching his eye for a brief moment before looking away, the tension between you still thick and unresolved.

“it’s perfect,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

sunghoon nodded, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer before he turned back to his sketches, his hands already moving toward the next design. but as he worked, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted once again, pulling you both closer to the inevitable.

the day sunghoon finally called you to his workshop to try on the completed dress, your heartbeat quickened with anticipation. you had witnessed pieces of the gown as it came together—folds of fabric, tiny swirls of embroidery—but you hadn’t yet seen the masterpiece in its entirety. now, standing at the doorway, you felt a fluttering mix of nerves and excitement, an invisible pull drawing you into sunghoon’s world once more.

as you stepped inside, you found sunghoon waiting, his face a picture of quiet intensity. he nodded toward the mannequin where the dress hung, his eyes unreadable but somehow deeper, darker than usual, as if holding back something unspoken.

when your gaze finally landed on the dress, your breath caught in your throat.

it was breathtaking.

the gown was nothing short of exquisite—lavender silk flowed like water from the bodice down to the floor, shimmering under the afternoon light that streamed through the windows. the neckline was delicately embroidered, the threads so fine they seemed like whispers etched into the fabric, while lace fluttered over the sleeves, giving the piece an ethereal, almost dream-like quality. the entire dress exuded elegance, but more than that, it felt like you—a reflection of something so deeply personal that you almost couldn’t believe sunghoon had captured it.

you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the gown. “sunghoon... i don’t even know what to say,” you whispered, your fingers brushing the edge of the fabric. “it’s perfect.”

he remained silent, watching you with a quiet intensity that sent shivers down your spine. his gaze didn’t waver as you admired the dress, his expression unreadable but brimming with something just beneath the surface.

“try it on,” he finally said, his voice low and steady, though there was a note of something raw in it.

nodding, you carefully took the dress from the mannequin and disappeared behind the changing screen, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. the fabric felt cool against your skin as you slipped into the gown, the weight of the silk settling around your body like it had been made just for you—which, of course, it had.

the dress hugged your curves in all the right places, the bodice fitting snugly while the skirt fanned out into a soft cascade of fabric. you ran your hands down the front, smoothing the delicate lace as a quiet gasp escaped your lips. it was perfect—no, more than perfect. it was everything you had dreamed of.

but there was one problem. as you reached behind your back to tie the strings that secured the dress, you quickly realised they were positioned just out of your reach. you stretched and fumbled, trying to catch the ties, but it was no use. frustration bubbled inside you, and after a few more futile attempts, you sighed in defeat.

“sunghoon?” your voice was hesitant, your cheeks warming as you called for his help.

“yes?” he replied, his voice soft but nearby.

“i... i can’t tie the strings on my own. could you—could you help me?” your request was almost timid, aware of the intimacy it required, but there was no other option.

a pause followed, but then you heard his footsteps approaching. he came closer, and the air between you seemed to shift, charged with a kind of tension that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“of course,” sunghoon said quietly. his voice had taken on a softer tone, one that sent a quiet thrill through you as you stood there, waiting, feeling the heat of his presence behind you.

you turned your back to him, exposing the bare skin between the open edges of the dress. the silence that followed was thick, palpable, as his fingers grazed the strings, brushing against your skin in the process. his touch was featherlight, but each accidental contact sent small jolts through you, your senses heightened by the proximity, the intimacy of the moment.

sunghoon worked with slow, deliberate care, pulling the strings through the loops at your back. his fingertips continued to brush your skin, his movements precise but betraying the tension in the way his breath seemed to catch when his hands touched you. you could feel his closeness—the heat radiating from his body, his steady breath that almost matched the rhythm of your own heartbeat.

in the mirror directly in front of you, you watched his expression as he tied the delicate knots. his brow was slightly furrowed in concentration, but there was something else, something simmering beneath the surface. his lips parted ever so slightly, his eyes darkening as they traced the movement of his hands against your skin. you couldn’t stop staring at him, watching the way his fingers worked, almost trembling as they lingered on your body longer than necessary.

your pulse quickened, your breath coming out a little too shallow, and you wondered if he could feel the way your muscles tensed under his touch. it was impossible to ignore the tension—something unspoken, something that had been building between you for weeks, was about to break.

“there,” sunghoon murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. his hands remained on your waist, resting lightly against the fabric as though he couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet.

you swallowed hard, watching him through the mirror. the look on his face wasn’t just one of pride in his work—it was something far deeper. his gaze softened as he admired the way the dress fit you, his fingers tightening slightly against your waist. “you look... beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “it suits you perfectly. is it comfortable?”

the words were innocent enough, but the way he said them—the hushed tone, the way his eyes never left yours in the reflection—made your heart race. you nodded, unable to form words, still lost in the haze of the moment.

“it’s perfect,” you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly.

sunghoon’s hands stayed where they were, his touch sending a heat through you that was impossible to ignore. your eyes met his in the mirror, the intensity between you crackling like a flame barely held back. his grip on your waist tightened just a little, his fingers pressing into the fabric as though he were anchoring himself.

for a moment, everything froze. the workshop, the world outside—none of it seemed to matter. all that existed was the way he was looking at you, the way his breath hitched as he stood so close. his fingers brushed against your waist, just under the edge of the fabric, grazing the skin there ever so slightly.

then you turned around, and suddenly, the space between you was gone.

you were standing so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, your chest brushing against his as you moved. his eyes darted to your lips, then back up to your gaze, conflicted but full of want. the air was thick with tension, so much that you could hardly breathe, and then, without warning, sunghoon’s restraint snapped.

he kissed you.

the kiss was swift, almost frantic, as if he’d been holding it back for too long. his lips pressed against yours with a kind of hunger that sent shockwaves through your body, stealing your breath. one of his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, while the other remained at your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of the dress as though he were afraid you’d slip away. the kiss deepened, your senses overwhelmed by the heat of his mouth against yours, the way his hands held you like he’d never let go.

your mind spun in a whirlwind of sensation. the kiss was impulsive, raw, filled with all the feelings he had been holding back for so long. you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—all you could do was respond, kissing him back with the same intensity, the same desperate need that had been growing between you for weeks.

but then, reality crashed down.

sunghoon pulled back, his eyes wide with shock and regret, his breath ragged as he stared at you. “i—” his voice faltered, his hand still lingering on your waist, trembling slightly. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “i didn’t mean to—”

you were just as dazed, your heart still pounding, your lips still tingling from the kiss. “it’s... it’s okay,” you said, though the words felt hollow. the kiss had left you reeling, and you weren’t sure what to think, what to feel.

sunghoon’s expression twisted with regret, his hands falling away from your waist as he stepped back. “we shouldn’t have—” he shook his head, his face pale. “i crossed a line.”

you swallowed hard, feeling the tension between you shift into something heavier, something filled with confusion and guilt. “maybe we should forget this happened,” you whispered, though the weight of the kiss still lingered in the air.

he nodded, his expression tight, though the pain in his eyes was unmistakable. “yeah. let’s... forget it.”

but neither of you could. the kiss, the way his hands had held you, the way your heart had raced—it was etched into the fabric of your friendship now, impossible to untangle.

word had spread quickly about sunghoon's exceptional craftsmanship. it began with whispers among the town’s elite, impressed with the stunning gown he had created for you, and soon, nobles from far and wide were flocking to his workshop, eager to have their own garments custom-made by his skilled hands. what had once been a modest business now thrived under the weight of new orders, with sunghoon’s talent finally receiving the recognition it deserved.

every day the workshop buzzed with activity—fine fabrics and intricate patterns sprawled across every surface, and sunghoon worked tirelessly, sketching designs, selecting fabrics, and stitching together dreams. you often found yourself there, as his muse, watching as he brought these creations to life, offering input or simply keeping him company through the long hours. his success was yours to share, and you couldn’t have been more proud.

one day, a letter arrived from the royal palace itself. the princess had heard of sunghoon’s work and requested him personally to craft a gown for her upcoming ball. the letter was written in elegant script on fine parchment, a formal request for his presence at the palace to discuss the details of the gown. when he read it aloud to you, you could hardly contain your excitement.

“sunghoon, this is incredible!” you exclaimed, beaming at him as he held the letter in his hands. his eyes shone with a mixture of pride and disbelief, as though he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

“it’s surreal,” he admitted, glancing at you with a smile that warmed you from the inside out. “i never thought i’d be making dresses for royalty.”

“you deserve it,” you said earnestly, feeling your heart swell with admiration for him. “you’ve worked so hard, and now everyone can see just how talented you are.”

sunghoon’s smile faltered for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes as he looked at you. “i couldn’t have done it without you,” he said softly. there was a weight to his words, a depth of feeling that you felt but couldn’t quite name. your heart skipped a beat, but before you could respond, he turned away, folding the letter carefully.

the trip to the palace was an experience neither of you would forget. the sprawling estate, the opulence of the interiors, the sense of awe that filled you as you walked through the grand halls—it was like stepping into another world. sunghoon had been invited to meet with the princess and discuss her gown, and as his muse and close friend, you accompanied him.

the princess was gracious and kind, and she spoke with sunghoon about the design she envisioned, praising his previous work. throughout the conversation, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, watching the way he carried himself with quiet confidence, his artistic mind already turning over the details of the gown in his head. it was hard not to feel a swell of pride, knowing you had played a part in his journey to this moment.

afterward, when the order had been placed and the royal commission secured, sunghoon suggested you both celebrate the occasion.

the restaurant was warm and cosy, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, far removed from the grandeur of the palace. the two of you had shared many meals together over the years, but tonight felt different. the weight of sunghoon’s newfound success hung in the air between you, the knowledge that his life—your lives—were changing in ways you hadn’t fully anticipated.

you sat across from him, toasting to his success with glasses of wine, laughter bubbling up as you reminisced about old times. “do you remember the time we tried to make that dress for my cousin’s wedding, and the fabric tore right before the ceremony?” you said, laughing as you recalled the chaos.

sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head. “how could i forget? i thought i was finished as a tailor before i even started.”

“but you saved it in the end,” you said, your smile softening as you looked at him. “you’ve always had this way of making things beautiful, even when they seem impossible.”

his laughter faded, and for a moment, there was a lingering silence between you. his gaze met yours, and the atmosphere seemed to shift—something unspoken hung between you, thick and heavy like the summer air. the warmth from the wine and the closeness of the moment made it difficult to focus on anything else but him—the way the candlelight flickered against his features, the way his eyes softened when they lingered on you just a little too long.

he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “you know, this success… it’s more than i ever thought possible. and i don’t think i could have done it without you by my side.”

his words struck a chord deep within you, the intensity in his eyes making your breath hitch. there it was again—that undercurrent of something more, something that had always been there, just waiting for the right moment to break free.

your heart pounded in your chest as you leaned in slightly, your faces just inches apart. the air between you crackled with anticipation, the proximity sending sparks down your spine. you could feel the warmth of his breath, the space between you narrowing with every passing second. your eyes locked, and in that moment, it felt like the world had fallen away.

the moment stretched on, and you could feel your heart racing, your pulse thundering in your ears. he was so close now, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body, close enough that all it would take was one small movement, one tiny step forward, and—

“i’m getting married,” you blurted out, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

sunghoon froze, his eyes widening in shock. the spell between you shattered, and you immediately regretted speaking, but there was no taking it back now. the air between you went cold, and you felt your stomach drop as the weight of your announcement settled over the table like a heavy blanket.

“what?” his voice was low, strained, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he had just heard.

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “my parents... they’ve arranged a marriage for me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m engaged.”

the silence that followed was deafening. sunghoon stared at you, his expression unreadable, though you could see the flicker of pain in his eyes. his jaw clenched slightly, his hand tightening around his glass as if he were trying to steady himself.

“when?” he finally asked, his voice tight, controlled.

“the date hasn’t been set yet,” you admitted, feeling your throat tighten with guilt. “but... soon.”

sunghoon sat back in his chair, his gaze dropping to the table. for a long moment, he didn’t say anything, the silence between you stretching into something unbearable. you could see the conflict in his eyes—the hurt, the frustration, the confusion. the tension that had been building between you for weeks, months even, was now thick with an unspoken finality.

finally, he looked up at you, his eyes dark and clouded with emotion. “congratulations,” he said quietly, though the word felt hollow, like it had been ripped from him unwillingly.

your heart sank, a wave of disappointment washing over you. you had expected... well, you didn’t know what you had expected. for him to fight for you, maybe, to protest or say something that would change everything. but instead, all you got was a distant, polite congratulations.

“sunghoon—” you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

“i’m happy for you,” he said, though the strain in his voice betrayed his true feelings. “i’m sure he’s a good man.”

the words stung, more than you had anticipated, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep ache in your chest. this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. but what could you say? you were engaged, and he... he was congratulating you, just as any friend would.

“yeah,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible. “thanks.”

but neither of you was happy, and you both knew it.

the walk back home felt heavier than usual. the excitement and easy flow of conversation that had filled the night seemed to dissipate into an awkward, thick silence. sunghoon walked beside you, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, eyes focused on the road ahead. normally, you’d both talk about everything and nothing—jokes, shared memories, or the latest designs he had been working on. but tonight, every step felt strained, as if the unspoken words were choking both of you.

you could feel the weight of what had happened at the restaurant still hanging between you, as if the tension you hadn’t acted on had only grown with your admission. sunghoon had insisted on walking you home, just as he always did, though the usual warmth in the gesture felt distant now. neither of you had tried to break the silence, though you kept stealing glances at him out of the corner of your eye.

his face was unreadable, lips pressed into a thin line as he walked with an unusual stiffness. you wanted to say something, to break the thick silence, but no words came. the engagement had changed everything between you, and you hated how powerless it made you feel. there was a dull ache in your chest as you watched him struggle with the weight of emotions he clearly wasn’t ready to share.

when your house came into view, you slowed your steps, almost wishing the walk could last just a little longer. but it didn’t. you reached your doorstep, and just as you were about to thank sunghoon for the walk, the door swung open.

your mother appeared, her face lighting up the moment she saw the two of you standing there. “sunghoon! what a surprise!” she exclaimed warmly, stepping out and pulling him into an embrace before he could protest. “you look so well!”

sunghoon smiled politely, though you could tell he was caught off guard by her enthusiasm. “good evening, ma’am. i was just walking your daughter home.”

your mother beamed, glancing at you with that knowing look of hers. “he always does, doesn’t he?” she teased lightly. “such a good boy.”

“mama...” you muttered, feeling embarrassed.

but your mother wasn’t finished. “come in, come in! you can’t just leave him standing outside like that,” she scolded, ushering sunghoon into the house before either of you could object. you shot him an apologetic look, but he waved it off with a small smile as he followed her inside.

the warmth of your home enveloped you both, the familiar scent of dinner lingering in the air. your father was sitting by the fire, and when he saw sunghoon, his face brightened. “ah, there’s the young tailor everyone’s talking about! come, sit with us.”

sunghoon looked between you and your parents, clearly not wanting to intrude, but it was hard to refuse the hospitality of your family. you watched as he settled into one of the chairs near the fire, his polite smile fixed in place, though you could sense the unease in his posture.

your mother sat beside him, clasping his hands in hers as she looked at him with pride. “sunghoon, i’ve heard such incredible things about your work lately. everyone is talking about you, and we couldn’t be more proud.”

you could see the discomfort in his eyes as your mother’s words began to feel more like a reminder of the distance between you. he offered her a tight smile. “thank you. it’s been... unexpected.”

“and well deserved!” your father chimed in. “we always knew you’d make something of yourself, ever since you were little.”

your mother nodded eagerly, her gaze softening as she looked at him fondly. “we’ve seen you grow up alongside our daughter, sunghoon. you two have always been so close... practically inseparable.”

you stiffened at the words, knowing what was coming next.

“which is why,” your mother continued, glancing at you briefly before turning back to sunghoon, “it’s been so hard for her, this whole engagement business.”

your stomach twisted. the topic you had been dreading was now out in the open, and you didn’t miss the way sunghoon’s jaw tightened ever so slightly. he was trying to stay composed, but the flicker of surprise in his eyes was unmistakable.

“she’s protested quite a bit, hasn’t she?” your mother added, her tone half-amused, half-concerned.

sunghoon’s eyes darted toward you, his surprise evident. you could see the confusion in his expression as he processed your mother’s words. you hadn’t said yes to the engagement? not fully? he had assumed you had accepted it without question, but now...

you averted your gaze, feeling your cheeks flush under the weight of both his and your parents’ attention. you hadn’t exactly fought against the engagement with much force either. it was an unspoken understanding between you and your family that the marriage would happen eventually, even if your heart wasn’t fully in it. but now, seeing sunghoon’s expression shift, you could see the conflict in his eyes.

your mother continued on, oblivious to the tension now thick in the air. “it’s just nerves, of course. every girl feels a bit uncertain before a big step like this.” she smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “she’ll come around.”

you wanted to protest, to say something that would dispel the awkward silence stretching between you and sunghoon, but the words caught in your throat. instead, your mother’s next words hit like a hammer, unknowingly driving the wedge deeper.

“actually,” she began, her voice suddenly filled with excitement, “we were hoping you could help us with something, sunghoon.”

he blinked, taken aback by her tone. “of course, ma’am. what is it?”

“well,” she said, glancing at you with a grin, “who better to make our daughter’s wedding dress than the most talented designer in town?”

the room felt as if it had dropped several degrees, the weight of her request pressing down on all of you. you felt your stomach churn, a sinking feeling of dread settling in. you hadn’t expected this—he hadn’t expected this. you watched as sunghoon’s expression faltered for the briefest moment, his composure slipping as the full impact of your mother’s words hit him.

make your wedding dress. your wedding dress.

he smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “i’d be honored,” he said quietly, his voice strained.

your mother clapped her hands together, beaming with delight. “oh, that’s wonderful! i knew we could count on you, sunghoon.”

he stood up then, a sudden stiffness in his movements. “thank you for your kindness,” he said, his voice more formal now. “but it’s late, and i should be going.”

your mother stood as well, ushering him toward the door with a fond smile. “of course, of course. but we must meet soon to discuss the dress!”

sunghoon nodded, his gaze avoiding yours as he headed for the door. you followed behind in silence, the heaviness between you both suffocating.

at the doorstep, he paused, his hand resting on the doorframe as he turned to face you one last time. there was something broken in his expression, a quiet sadness that you couldn’t quite place. for a moment, it seemed as if he might say something—something real, something raw—but then, he simply nodded.

“good night,” he whispered, before turning and walking away.

as you watched him disappear into the night, your heart ached with the words left unsaid, the feelings unspoken, and the love you both were too afraid to fight for.

as sunghoon walked through the dimly lit streets, the cool night air did little to ease the storm brewing inside him. each step echoed in the stillness, but his mind was anything but calm. the evening had turned from tense excitement into a suffocating weight pressing down on his chest.

he replayed your mother’s words over and over in his mind: “who better to make our daughter’s wedding dress than the most talented designer in town?” the words had cut deeper than any blade, the cruel irony of it all making his heart twist painfully. he had dreamed of crafting something beautiful for you, yes, but never like this. not for someone else’s wedding. not for the marriage that would take you away from him.

sunghoon clenched his fists, his knuckles white as his nails bit into his palms. a marriage. to someone else. he could barely picture it, the idea so foreign and painful that it seemed absurd. but the reality was right there, looming in front of him like an unstoppable force. he had always known that this day would come. you were from a noble family, destined to marry someone of status. and him? he was a tailor, nothing more. his growing reputation in town meant little in comparison to the weight of your family’s expectations.

it’s for the best, he told himself, over and over, like a mantra he hoped would dull the pain. your life with that man—whoever he was—would be easier, more secure. you’d live the life you were meant to lead, filled with luxury, stability, and everything a noblewoman deserved. sunghoon had nothing to offer in comparison. even with his recent success, his craft could never provide you with the life that an arranged marriage could.

sunghoon’s pace quickened, the weight of his emotions making it harder to breathe. his mind whirled with a painful realization: it’s better this way. he had no right to confess his feelings to you now. no right to complicate your life any further. you were getting married, and he had to respect that. confessing his love wouldn’t change anything—it would only hurt you more, and he couldn’t bear the thought of being the cause of your pain.

he thought of the way you had looked at him tonight, how your eyes had softened when you admitted that you hadn’t agreed to the marriage yet. the flicker of hope that had briefly ignited in his chest had been swiftly extinguished by the cold voice of reason. you deserved better than him, better than a life filled with uncertainty and struggle. and even though it tore him apart inside, sunghoon knew he had to let you go.

she’ll be happier without me. the thought twisted like a knife in his heart, but he held onto it like a lifeline. it was easier to believe that than to face the truth—that he was simply too afraid. too afraid to fight for you, too afraid of what loving you truly meant. because if he did confess, if he asked you to choose him, what then? you would have to give up your life of comfort, your family’s support, and the future they had planned for you. and what if you regretted that decision later? what if he couldn’t be enough for you?

no. he wouldn’t let that happen. he couldn’t risk it.

by the time sunghoon reached his workshop, his heart was heavy with the decision he had made. he stepped inside, the familiar smell of fabric and wood filling the space around him, but it no longer brought him any comfort. he stood in the dim light, surrounded by the tools of his trade—the very things that had brought him success—and felt nothing but emptiness.

he wouldn’t confess. he couldn’t.

because he loved you too much to ask you to settle for less.

the tension between you and sunghoon hung in the air like a thick fog, clouding everything you had once held dear.

he avoided you, not because he wanted to, but because he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. each passing day, you found yourself hoping—desperately—that he would come to you, that he would say something to stop the impending wedding. but instead, sunghoon pretended to be okay. he carried on with his work, his life, as if the confession hadn’t happened. as if you hadn’t bared your soul to him and he hadn’t done the same. he buried his emotions, putting on that same calm, controlled front, and it drove you mad.

he wouldn’t fight for you.

your heart ached with the realisation, and it became painfully clear during the next few days that sunghoon had no intention of changing the course of things. the silence between you both was unbearable, the distance growing wider with each passing moment. and just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, your parents made it worse.

they scheduled an appointment with sunghoon for the most painful task yet: designing your wedding dress.

the irony of it was too cruel. sunghoon, the man who knew every inch of you, who had memorised your shape, your measurements, who had held you so intimately in his arms, was now tasked with crafting the gown you would wear as you married someone else. it was the final blow, the final insult, to a relationship that had been ripped apart by circumstances you couldn’t control.

when the day of the appointment arrived, you found yourself standing outside his workshop, dread pooling in your stomach. you didn’t want to go inside. you didn’t want to face him, not after everything that had happened, and certainly not for this.

with a deep breath, you pushed the door open, stepping into the familiar space that now felt cold and foreign. sunghoon was already there, standing by his work table with rolls of fabric laid out in front of him, but the usual warmth in his eyes was absent. he looked up when you entered, his expression neutral, professional. he greeted you with a small nod.

“let’s get started,” he said, his voice low, as if he too was trying to suppress the emotions that lingered just beneath the surface.

you could barely look at him. the air was thick with tension, and you forced yourself to speak, though your voice came out flat, distant.

“i don’t even know why i’m here,” you muttered, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “this is just… a formality.”

sunghoon’s eyes flickered briefly with something—hurt, maybe—but he masked it quickly. “your parents want you to have the perfect dress. it’s important to them.”

the atmosphere inside sunghoon’s workshop felt suffocating. you sat rigidly on a small chair, staring at the neatly folded fabrics in front of you while sunghoon prepared his tools. everything about the moment felt forced, mechanical, nothing like the ease and flow of your previous sessions together. you didn’t want to be there. and you were making it painfully clear.

sunghoon turned to face you, holding a few sketches in his hand, his face expressionless. but you could sense the tension in the air, the unspoken pain that lingered between you both. he wasn’t the same, and neither were you.

“so,” he began, keeping his voice calm and professional, “do you have any preferences for the neckline? maybe something you’ve always liked?”

you shrugged, not even looking up at him. “don’t know. don’t care.”

his brow furrowed slightly, but he said nothing, nodding as if that response was perfectly normal. he glanced down at the sketches again, adjusting the paper. “okay… how about the fabric? i was thinking something soft, maybe silk? or—”

“whatever,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “doesn’t matter.”

sunghoon paused, his eyes lingering on you for a moment. you could feel his gaze, heavy with concern, but you refused to meet it. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how hurt you were, how badly you wanted him to say something, anything, that would change this.

he sighed quietly, turning back to his worktable. “i just want to make sure it’s perfect for you,” he said softly, his voice gentle but strained. “this is an important day…”

you clenched your jaw, the words digging into your heart like shards of glass. an important day? for who? certainly not for you. he kept talking about the wedding as if it were inevitable, as if you were excited about it, and it made your blood boil.

“what about the waistline?” he asked again, forcing the conversation to continue. “something fitted, or maybe a bit more relaxed?”

“i don’t care,” you replied tersely, your tone sharp. “you’re the expert, right? just do whatever.”

the silence that followed was deafening. sunghoon stood still for a moment, his hands resting on the fabrics, his back to you. you saw the slight slump in his shoulders, the way his fingers gripped the edge of the table just a little too tightly, and for a second, you almost regretted your words.

but the frustration bubbling inside you wouldn’t let up. you had come here hoping, praying, that he would give you a reason to stop the wedding, that he would fight for you. instead, you were sitting here discussing necklines and fabric as if everything was perfectly fine, as if you weren’t on the verge of losing everything.

he turned back around, this time holding a measuring tape. “let’s… start with your measurements,” he said, his voice sounding tired, defeated.

you stood up reluctantly, moving toward him, your movements stiff and reluctant. you stood there in the middle of the room, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest.

sunghoon stepped closer, the tape measure in his hands, and for a moment, you both stood in silence, the tension between you thick and suffocating. his proximity felt overwhelming, but this time, it wasn’t filled with the same spark as before. instead, it was heavy, burdened with all the things you both refused to say.

he hesitated for a second before gently wrapping the tape around your waist. his fingers brushed lightly against your skin, but there was no tenderness in the touch. it was robotic, methodical, like he was forcing himself to distance every part of him from you.

“what about the sleeves?” he asked quietly, trying to fill the silence. “long or short?”

“whatever,” you snapped. “it doesn’t matter. none of this matters.”

sunghoon froze for a moment, his hands stilling against your waist. the silence stretched between you, thick with unresolved tension, before he pulled away, the tape measure slipping from his fingers. he turned to face you, his expression strained, frustration and confusion swirling in his eyes.

“what’s going on with you?” he finally asked, his voice low but firm. “why are you acting like this?”

you stared at him, your chest heaving with a mix of anger and sorrow. his question was the breaking point, the floodgates that had been holding everything back bursting open all at once.

“why am i acting like this?” you repeated, your voice trembling with emotion. “because you’re standing here, pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not!”

sunghoon’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing, his eyes searching yours for an explanation.

“this dress… this wedding… none of it matters to me!” you continued, your voice growing louder with every word. “i don’t want this. i never wanted this. and you know it, sunghoon. you know it better than anyone!”

he opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t let him. the words kept pouring out, all the frustration and pain you had been bottling up for weeks finally spilling over.

“i’ve been waiting for you to say something, to do something—anything—that would make me stop this wedding. but you’ve just been standing there, acting like this is what i want when you know it isn’t!” your voice cracked, your hands trembling at your sides. “why won’t you say anything? why won’t you fight for me?”

sunghoon stared at you, the weight of your words hitting him like a punch to the gut. he looked down, his shoulders sagging as if the burden of everything you had just said was too much to bear.

“i… i thought this was what you wanted,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “i thought you deserved someone better than me. someone who could give you everything i can’t.”

you felt your heart clench painfully in your chest, the ache of his words almost unbearable. “that’s not for you to decide!” you shot back, your voice breaking. “you think i care about any of that? i don’t. i never did. the only thing i care about is you.”

the silence that followed was thick with raw emotion. sunghoon stood there, his expression torn, his hands trembling at his sides. he looked like he wanted to say something, like he was finally ready to fight, but the fear in his eyes held him back.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “i’m so sorry.”

the apology shattered whatever was left of your composure. you turned away, not able to stand the sight of him any longer.

“i don’t want to wear a wedding dress if it’s not for you,” you said quietly, tears brimming in your eyes. you swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to leave, your heart breaking with every step you took toward the door.

sunghoon didn’t try to stop you. he just stood there, broken, as you walked out of his life.

it was the dead of night, the streets shrouded in silence, broken only by the soft crunch of your hurried footsteps on the cobblestone path. you didn’t look back. you couldn’t. not when you had finally made your decision. with nothing but the small bags clutched in your hands, you walked with purpose, heart pounding as you made your way toward sunghoon’s home.

the weight of the evening air pressed against your skin, thick with the lingering tension that had been suffocating you for days. since that fateful conversation at his workshop, the ache in your chest had only deepened, every moment spent away from him gnawing at you. there was no escaping it. you couldn’t go through with the marriage. not when you knew where your heart truly lay.

the small house loomed ahead, a single dim light flickering from the window, signalling that sunghoon was still awake. your pulse quickened, the gravity of what you were about to do hitting you all at once. you were throwing away everything—your family’s expectations, your arranged marriage, the life you had been destined to live—all for him. and yet, none of it scared you.

because sunghoon was worth it. he was the only thing you wanted.

you reached the door, your breath shallow as you hesitated for a split second, your heart hammering in your chest. then, without another thought, you raised your hand and knocked.

a few moments passed, the silence inside the house dragging on like an eternity before you heard soft footsteps approaching. the door creaked open, revealing sunghoon standing there, his hair tousled, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw you standing there, drenched in moonlight, with your bags in hand.

“y/n?” his voice was laced with confusion, concern flickering across his features as he glanced between you and the bags at your side. “what are you—what’s going on?”

you didn’t answer right away. instead, you stepped forward, crossing the threshold into his home without invitation, leaving him to close the door behind you. the room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows across the familiar space where so much of your time together had unfolded. it felt both comforting and surreal to be here now, on the brink of something monumental.

“i couldn’t do it,” you said at last, your voice barely a whisper but filled with determination. “i couldn’t marry him, sunghoon.”

he stood there, frozen, his brow furrowing in confusion. “what do you mean? the wedding—it’s—”

“i don’t want to marry him,” you interrupted, turning to face him fully, your eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made your heart race. “i don’t want any of this. the wedding, the life my parents planned for me—it’s not what i want. it’s never been what i wanted.”

sunghoon’s breath hitched, his confusion deepening, but you could see the glimmer of hope slowly dawning in his eyes. “then… what are you saying?”

you dropped your bags to the floor and stepped closer to him, the raw emotion swirling inside you finally breaking free. “what i’m saying is that i’m here, right now, because i’m choosing you, sunghoon. all i’ve ever wanted is you. i thought—i hoped—you’d feel the same. but you never said anything. and i can’t keep waiting.”

his eyes widened, a storm of emotions flashing across his face. he looked torn between disbelief and longing, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out.

“i know you think i deserve better,” you continued, your voice growing more urgent, your hands trembling slightly as you reached out to him, “but i don’t care about that. i don’t care about anything except you. all i wanted—all i ever wanted—was for you to tell me you felt the same. to fight for me.”

sunghoon swallowed thickly, his eyes locked on yours, and for the first time since you had shown up, he looked utterly vulnerable. “i do… i do feel the same, y/n. i’ve always felt the same. but i thought—” his voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath. “i thought you’d be better off without me. i was afraid i’d ruin your life if i held you back from everything you deserve.”

you shook your head fiercely, your heart pounding. “you’re wrong. you never would have ruined anything. the only thing that’s been ruining me is the thought of losing you.”

tears welled up in his eyes, his composure crumbling as the weight of his emotions finally caught up to him. he took a step closer, his hands reaching out to gently cup your face. his touch was warm, familiar, filled with the tenderness that had been missing for so long.

“y/n,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “i don’t deserve you… but i can’t let you go.”

your breath caught in your throat as the distance between you vanished. his hands trembled slightly against your skin, but the intensity in his gaze spoke volumes. you could feel the raw need, the longing that had been suppressed for too long, finally coming to the surface.

“then don’t,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “don’t let me go, sunghoon. i love you. i’ve always loved you. and i’m not going anywhere unless it’s with you.”

the words seemed to unlock something in him. without another second of hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate, passionate kiss that spoke of all the years of pent-up desire and unspoken feelings between you. it was everything you had hoped for, everything you had longed for—pure, unfiltered love.

when he finally pulled away, breathless and trembling, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes still closed, as if savouring the moment.

“run away with me,” you whispered, your hands still tangled in his shirt. “we can leave this place, start a new life. i don’t care where we go as long as i’m with you.”

sunghoon opened his eyes, searching yours for any hint of doubt, but all he saw was determination—love. a soft, disbelieving laugh escaped him, his fingers tracing the lines of your face as if committing them to memory.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice shaking. “are you really sure about this?”

you smiled, leaning into his touch, your heart swelling with the certainty of your decision. “i’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

sunghoon closed his eyes again, pulling you into a tight embrace, as if afraid to let go. “i love you,” he murmured against your hair, his voice raw with emotion. “i’ve always loved you.”

tears of relief and joy welled up in your eyes as you buried your face in his chest, holding onto him like he was your lifeline. this was what you had been waiting for. this was all you ever needed.

“we’ll leave tonight,” he whispered, his voice resolute. “we’ll start over, just the two of us.”

you nodded, a smile breaking through the tears as you felt the weight of the world lifting from your shoulders. this was your new beginning. your future with sunghoon, the one you had always dreamed of.

and together, you knew you could face whatever came next.

the moon hung low in the sky, casting its pale glow over the winding road that stretched out before you and sunghoon. the cool night air clung to your skin as you both moved in silence, hearts pounding in unison as you left the only life you had ever known behind. with each step, the weight of your decision lifted, replaced by a thrill that sent shivers down your spine.

you glanced over at sunghoon, his face illuminated by the moonlight, a mix of determination and exhilaration playing on his features. his hand gripped yours tightly, as if afraid to let go, as if letting go would mean losing you forever. neither of you had spoken much since leaving his house, but the unspoken understanding between you was stronger than ever.

the path ahead was unknown, but that no longer frightened you. in fact, it excited you.

as you crested the hill that overlooked your town, you both stopped for a moment, turning to take in the view one last time. the place where you had grown up, where your families lived, where your life had been planned out for you—it all felt so distant now, like a world you were no longer part of.

you turned to sunghoon, a soft smile tugging at your lips despite the enormity of what you were doing. “so… where are we going?”

he turned to look at you, his eyes filled with that familiar spark of ambition you had always admired. “there’s a city,” he began, his voice low and steady. “a place i’ve always dreamed of going. it’s known for fashion, for artisans, for people like me who want to make a name for themselves.”

you could see the excitement dancing in his eyes, the dream he had always kept close to his heart. “i’ve heard of it,” you said, your smile growing. “you’re talking about sorina, aren’t you?”

he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening. “yes. it’s always been my dream to open my own studio there. to create something that’s entirely mine. but… i never thought i’d actually go. i didn’t think i’d have the chance.”

your heart swelled with pride and affection as you looked at him. “well, now you do,” you said softly. “and you’re not going alone.”

his expression softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you—really looked at you, as if he still couldn’t believe this was happening. then, with a quiet laugh, he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. “i don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion.

you smiled against his chest, wrapping your arms around him. “you’re wrong. you’re everything i deserve.”

with one final glance at the town behind you, the two of you turned and began your journey to sorina, the city of dreams. the road ahead was long, but the promise of a new life with sunghoon made every step feel lighter. the thought of him creating masterpieces, of you being by his side as his muse, filled you with a hope you had never known.

and as the two of you settled into your new life in sorina, that peace only grew. sunghoon’s dreams were coming to life with every stitch, every sketch. he was thriving in a way that you had always known he could, and you were there to see it all. your role as his muse was more than a job or a title—it was the culmination of your deep connection, your bond that had grown through years of friendship and love unspoken.

there were moments when the thought of your parents crossed your mind. the guilt of running away lingered in the back of your heart at times, knowing how much they had hoped for you to marry into the match they had chosen. you wondered if they were angry, disappointed, or hurt by your decision. but as days turned into weeks, those worries faded. you knew your parents—they loved you too much to hold on to their disappointment forever.

"i’m sure they’ll forgive me," you said one evening, resting your head on sunghoon's shoulder as you both watched the busy city streets from your studio. "they’ll come to understand… eventually."

sunghoon looked at you, his eyes searching your face for any signs of doubt. “you really think so?”

you nodded, smiling softly. “i know they will. they’ve always wanted me to be happy. and when they see how happy we are… when they see all you’ve achieved, they’ll realise we made the right choice.”

he reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering against your cheek. “i hope so,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with warmth. “i just want you to have everything you deserve. i want them to see that.”

“they will,” you reassured him, your voice soft but firm. “they’ve known you all your life, sunghoon. they know how hard you’ve worked. they’ll see why i chose you. why we chose each other.”

sunghoon’s lips curved into a small smile, one that made your heart flutter. “we’ll make a life together that’s worth showing them. one day, when they see what we’ve built, they’ll understand.”

and deep down, you knew he was right. your parents loved you, and in time, they would see the joy that your life with sunghoon brought you. they would forgive the abrupt departure, the wedding that never was. because while it wasn’t the life they had envisioned for you, it was the one you had always dreamed of.

as sunghoon’s studio grew, and as the two of you thrived in sorina, you no longer felt the weight of your decision. you had chosen love over duty, dreams over expectations. and in the end, you knew it would all work out. one day, when the time was right, you would return to your parents—not as the daughter who had run away, but as the woman who had found her happiness.

for now, though, the life you had built with sunghoon was everything you had ever wanted. the city of fashion, the thriving studio, the man you loved—it was more than enough.

and with every stitch sunghoon sewed, every dress he designed, you were reminded that you had made the right choice. together, you had found your place in the world. and you had no doubt that the people you loved most would come to understand that too.

BONUS SCENE !

in sorina, life had unfolded beautifully, and not just for sunghoon. the city may have been known for fashion, but it was also a hub of opportunity for anyone willing to carve out their own path—and you had done just that.

while sunghoon spent his days sketching and tailoring in his studio, you found your own passion and footing in the city. before long, you’d built something of your own—a modest business in jewellery making, a craft you had dabbled in back home but now took seriously. the bustling markets of sorina were filled with artisans from every walk of life, and soon your intricately designed pieces caught the eye of locals and visitors alike.

at first, it was a hobby. a way to pass the time while sunghoon worked. but it didn’t take long for you to gain recognition. your designs, delicate yet bold, paired perfectly with the high-end garments sunghoon was crafting. your pieces began to complement his work, and you both realised the potential of collaborating together—not just in love but in business.

the two of you often worked late into the night, your small workbench tucked in the corner of his studio. sunghoon would be bent over his latest creation, needles and thread in hand, while you arranged shimmering stones and metals into intricate patterns.

“you know,” sunghoon said one evening, breaking the comfortable silence between you, “we’re going to need a bigger space soon.”

you looked up from your work, raising an eyebrow. “why’s that?”

he smirked, nodding toward the scattered jewellery and sketches of new designs littering the floor. “because you’re taking over my studio, that’s why.”

you chuckled, shaking your head as you placed a bracelet you’d been working on down on the table. “i think we both know you’re the one taking up all the space. these fabrics are everywhere.”

“touché,” he replied with a grin, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “but i’m serious. your business is growing. people are asking for your pieces specifically now. you’ve got clients lined up at the door. we can’t keep pretending this is just a side gig.”

you shrugged, but your smile betrayed your pride. “maybe. but it’s not like i’m doing this on my own. you’ve helped me a lot. half of the clients only know about my jewellery because it’s paired with your designs.”

sunghoon shook his head. “no. they come for you. you’ve worked hard to get here. don’t downplay that.”

his words warmed your heart, and you leaned back in your chair, watching him for a moment. “i guess we’ve both come a long way, haven’t we?”

he met your gaze, the familiar spark of affection lighting up his eyes. “more than i ever imagined.”

as the weeks passed, the collaboration between your jewellery and sunghoon’s garments became the talk of the city. nobles and royals who ordered dresses from sunghoon began requesting matching jewellery pieces from you. soon, you were no longer just sunghoon’s muse or his partner—you were an established name in your own right.

at events and gatherings, whispers of “have you seen her designs?” filled the halls, your name mentioned alongside sunghoon’s, but never overshadowed by it. the partnership between the two of you was equal, balanced by your mutual respect and admiration for one another’s talents. while sunghoon’s studio flourished, so did your own reputation. you set up a small stall in the heart of the city, your jewellery catching the sunlight and drawing the attention of passersby. with each new order, you found yourself standing more confidently in this new life you had built.

one evening, as the two of you sat in the now-expanded studio, reviewing orders and discussing the future, sunghoon turned to you, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“so, what’s next for you? you’ve got clients begging for your work, you’re practically a household name now,” he teased, nudging you gently. “maybe it’s time you open your own studio, too?”

you smiled, considering his words. “maybe. i’ve been thinking about it, actually.”

sunghoon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “oh? you’ve got plans you’re not telling me?”

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “no, nothing concrete. but i do think it’s time i take things to the next level. i want to expand, maybe hire a few apprentices. i don’t want to just make jewellery—i want to teach others how to do it, too. there’s a lot of talent in this city that deserves to be nurtured.”

he looked at you with such pride in his eyes, it made your heart swell. “you’re incredible, you know that?”

you shrugged, trying to downplay your excitement. “i’m just doing what i love.”

“and you’re damn good at it,” he said firmly. “don’t forget that.”

it wasn’t long before you made that dream a reality. you secured a space in one of the city’s artisan districts, a small but beautiful shop where you could sell your creations and train apprentices in the art of jewellery making. the shop was an extension of yourself—chic, elegant, and full of the creativity that had always been a part of you.

soon, your shop became as well-known as sunghoon’s studio. the two of you were often talked about together, not as a couple who had run away from their old lives, but as two individuals who had built something remarkable side by side.

every piece of jewellery you created had its own story, just as every dress sunghoon designed had its own flair. and while you both supported each other’s work, neither of you relied solely on the other to define your success.

the life you had built together in sorina was not just about love—it was about the dreams you had both nurtured and the independence you cherished. you were more than sunghoon’s muse. you were a creator, a designer, a businesswoman in your own right.

as the sun set over sorina, casting a warm, golden glow across the city, you stood at the threshold of your jewelry shop, taking in the scene before you. the streets were alive with people bustling between vendors, artisans displaying their wares, and musicians playing softly in the distance. your heart swelled with contentment as you looked out over the life you had built, not just for yourself, but alongside sunghoon.

the sound of footsteps broke you from your thoughts, and you turned just in time to see him approaching. his face was illuminated by the setting sun, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he drew closer. even after all this time, your heart still skipped a beat whenever you saw him. there was something about the way he carried himself, the quiet confidence, the kindness in his eyes, that always made you feel safe and cherished.

"busy day?" he asked, his voice low and familiar as he stopped in front of you, his gaze warm.

you nodded, leaning against the doorframe with a soft smile. "busier than usual. i think word is spreading faster than i expected. what about you? how’s the studio?"

he chuckled, glancing back toward his own shop down the street. "same here. we might need to start hiring more help."

you laughed softly, and the two of you stood there for a moment, soaking in the peaceful atmosphere around you. the city was beautiful in the fading light, and for a brief second, everything felt perfect. but then sunghoon shifted slightly, his eyes locking with yours, and you saw something deeper flicker in them—something that had never fully disappeared.

without a word, he reached out, gently brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering just a little too long. the simple gesture sent a shiver down your spine, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension that had only grown stronger over the months.

“you’ve got a speck of something,” he murmured, his voice softer now, more intimate. “right here.”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as his fingers lightly grazed your skin. “thanks,” you whispered, barely able to find your voice.

sunghoon didn’t pull away immediately. instead, he stayed close, his eyes never leaving yours. there was something different in his gaze tonight—something tender, yet intense. and as you looked back at him, you felt the weight of all the moments you’d shared, the quiet yearning that had simmered between you since the day you’d arrived in this city together.

“do you ever think about… everything?” he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the stillness. he didn’t have to explain further. you both knew exactly what he meant.

you swallowed hard, your heart racing. “i do,” you admitted quietly. “every day.”

his hand slipped down to your waist, tentative at first, as if testing the waters. but when you didn’t pull away, he drew you in closer, until your bodies were nearly touching, the warmth of his chest radiating against yours. you could feel the rise and fall of his breath, and it was intoxicating.

“i never imagined…” sunghoon’s voice was barely a whisper now, his lips close to your ear, sending another wave of shivers down your spine. “that we’d end up here. together.”

you leaned your forehead against his shoulder, closing your eyes as you took in his scent—so familiar and comforting. “me neither.”

for a long moment, you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, neither of you daring to move or speak. the world outside seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you, suspended in time.

and then, without warning, sunghoon pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up with his fingers, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“i love you,” he whispered, the words escaping him like they’d been held back for far too long. “i’ve always loved you.”

your heart stopped, the confession hanging in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. you had known it, felt it, but hearing the words out loud still sent a rush of emotion through you.

“i love you too,” you replied softly, the words coming out as naturally as breathing.

sunghoon smiled—a slow, tender smile that reached his eyes. and before you knew it, he was leaning in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly grew more passionate. it was as if all the years of longing, of unspoken feelings and missed opportunities, had finally culminated in this moment.

you melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer. his lips were warm and gentle, yet insistent, and you could feel the depth of his emotions in every touch. the world spun around you, but all you could focus on was him—the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

when you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, sunghoon rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the evening.

“i don’t want to wait anymore,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “we’ve waited long enough.”

you nodded, your heart swelling with a sense of certainty you hadn’t felt in a long time. “neither do i.”

you smiled, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over you. the future felt bright, and for the first time, you could see it clearly—both of you, side by side, not just as lovers but as equals. you were no longer running away from the life you didn’t want. instead, you were running toward the life you had built together, filled with love, passion, and the promise of a beautiful tomorrow.

you weren’t just sunghoon’s muse. you weren’t just a girl who had fallen in love. you were a woman who had taken control of her destiny, and now, with sunghoon by your side, you were ready for whatever the future held.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

taglist: @punchbug9-blog @firstclassjaylee @capri-cuntz @addictedtohobi @jaysfavoritegirl (the rest will be tagged in the comments since tumblr is acting up again )

#౨ৎ 𝓐dy writes🪄#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fics #enhypen x reader #sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fics #sunghoon oneshots #kpop fics #enhypen royal au

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taasgirl · 7 months ago

Text

lover - oscar piastri

summary: y/n is a songwriter who writes plenty of songs however no one realizes that they're made by her (and about oscar hehe)!

a/n: the outcomes of the races are fictional, and the order in which these songs have been written (assume fearless was written this year ygwim?). also no face claim!!

liked by yukitsunoda, oscarpiastri, and 33, 287 others ynusername romance is not dead if you keep it just yours! lovelovelove being able to come home for race day!! i'm so proud of u osc 🩷

oscarpiastri I'm so lucky 🥰 liked by ynusername

user27633 Y/N IS A SWIFTIE CONFIRMED!?!?!

ynusername of course!!

user16372 u literally take the cutest photos of oscar

user82537 y/n quoting paris... i'm so up

yukitsunoda 😆😆

landonorris You're my favourite wag

ynusername wow how considerate

liked by taylorswift, landonorris, and 1, 287, 387 others oscarpiastri Unwinding before Japan 👊

ynusername tehee we're cute

oscarpiastri You're cuter landonorris Get a room

taylorswift ooooh she's working hard @ ynusername

user62584 WHAT THE FUCK ARE U DOING HERE???

user98274 OSCAR IS FRIENDS WITH TAYLOR HUH

user61192 i did not expect to see taylor in the comments of oscar's post tagging y/n!

user92898 no fr like what is going on

user93829 Everyone shut up about taylor look at the beauty that is y/n omd

view ynusername's story...

liked by jackantonoff, phoebebridgers, and 55, 918, 278 others taylorswift In honour of my album 'The Tortured Poets Department' release a week ago, I wanted to thank my biggest musical inspirations! Thank you Jack, Lana, and Y/N for helping me the best artist I could possibly be, without you'd guys I'd be nowhere (thank you y/n for writing the cheesiest, cutest, sexiest songs ever)!!

user51862 who is y/n

user01827 She's dating f1 driver oscar piastri but also now apparently a songwriter idk...

user72973 Wdym thanks y/n for writing?? you're telling me the twitter stans were right??

user62863 y/n is singlehandedly uniting f1 and the swifties

ynusername thank u tay 💓💓

user52868 Girl has been living a double life

user51929 ohhh so this is why taylor was commenting on oscar's post😭

liked by oscarpiastri, taylorswift, and 108, 276 others ynusername well now that the cat is out of the bag, who wants to hear a story? i assume u all said yes.

on one of our first dates, oscar made me a bracelet (yes that one) and i thought (and still think) that it was one of the most romantic gestures. so obviouslyyy i wrote 'lover' about him hehe. yes we only knew each other for at most three months when i wrote it, but i love him so much, he's my forever.

oscarpiastri I love having a singer for a girlfriend (wife one day)

ynusername hello cat boy

user18739 You're telling me that taylor's most romantic song is literally written by my favourite wag about my favourite driver?? i might pass out

ynusername haha yes! i write a lot of songs for tay

landonorris So this song is basically about ur delusions liked by ynusername

user52863 oh now i need to know exactly what songs you've written

user20939 AND PLEASE RECORD COVERS OF THEM TOO

lilymhe wait so you've been friends with taylor the whole time...

lilymhe AND THE SONG THAT I WANT PLAYED AT MY WEDDING IS WRITTEN ABOUT OSCAR?? ynusername oh my god lily HAHA

let me know if you liked this!! i know it's super short but i'm seriously lacking inspo and ideas omd. also i literally love oscar so much.

i'm also working on a few reqs, so if you have a suggestion or request, let me know because i'd love to do it!!

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imaginaryf1shots · 6 months ago

Text

Forced | Carlos Sainz Ver.

WC: 19K

Carlos x reader

Summery: When your fathers make a pact before you're born to marry their children, you and Carlos have to see it through.

Warning: cursing, forced marriage, bad parents, asshole-y Lando, cursing? misogyny, some other things I can't remember

A.N: There's a difference between arranged marriage and forced marriage. This is forced marriage ✌️

Masterlist

Carlos Masterlist

Charles vr., Max Ver.

Carlos remembers the moment he found out very well. He was 11 years old. Back from holiday with the y/l/n’s. It was a fun summer, he had so much fun. He didn’t have any karting completions, and he loved spending time and playing with you. You’re just 4 years old, and even though you're just a toddler, a baby in his eyes, Carlos loved playing with you. He’s always been gentle and loves kids. He doesn’t remember a time when you weren't there.

His mum and dad sat him down a day after they came back to Spain and told him the truth.

“It’s good that you get on well with y/n.” His mum said, confusing him.

”Why?” He knows they got on well, and it makes the family get together less chaotic, but why was it so good that his mum had to comment on it.

“Carlos you’re growing older now, and we feel like it’s time for you to know that…” His mum trailed off suddenly feeling nervous, she looked at his dad, he took her hand in his and gave her a squeeze.

”y/n’s father and I are old friends, and we made an agreement years ago, and we decided that one of my children will marry one of his when they’re both old enough.” Carlos Sr watchers as his son tries to understand what’s being told to him right now. The young boy is shocked. He can’t comprehend what he’s being told. “With her mum being so sick during the pregnancy and how rough the birth was, they’re not having any more children so that leaves you and y/n, you’ll be married once she’s 21.”

”W-what! but-but she’s just a baby!” Carlos is outraged. He feels like his whole life just took a turn. He wonders if it’ll affect his karting or his future plans, all his dreams not taken into consideration.

“Amor, she won’t be a baby forever, she’ll grow older and so will you, look don’t overthink it, there's still 17 years before something happens, but we just wanted you to know.”

And so Carlos knew, he knew for years. Every time he saw you, that was all he could think about. Carlos went through all the stages, he hated it, he hated his parents and yours, and he hated you. He hated how attacked you are to him. How you’d smile every time you saw him, oblivious, in your childhood innocence. You called his name so incessantly, and he hated it all. Then he began denying it, he ignored his parents, he ignored you, he ignored everything and everyone and just focused on racing. He then accepted it. He didn’t go to any function you were attending, but he accepted it he just didn’t want to see you before he’d be stuck with you forever. He never had any long-term relationships, his family always making it obvious that they didn’t approve and like his girlfriends. You were none the wiser. Your family didn’t tell you. They just left you to grow up as you liked, living your life with no looming marriage over you.

Carlos has no idea what you are like now, what your personality is like. He had no idea how you even looked. He’s made it his mission to ignore everything about you, to block you when you were old enough to be on social media. He’ll live his life as he wants before he can’t anymore.

And the moment he got the card, he knew it was over. The time is finally here. In his hands is the invitation to your 21st birthday party. Your family is holding a big celebration. And the driver had no obligations that day, he couldn’t get out of it. There’s no ignoring you anymore. There’s no toning out his parents when they talk about you.

You weren’t particularly excited for your birthday, your mum chose the dress when she saw that you wouldn’t. It’s not like you're ungrateful for the effort your parents put into it. But it's way bigger than it needed to be, and it's not like you had a lot of friends to invite. Almost everyone they invited you barely knew. Why they made a big deal out of it is a mystery for you. The party is even bigger than your 18th birthday.

The day of the party arrived, and a glam team was booked by your mother. Your make-up and hair were done to perfection. Your dress was made especially for you. It fit where it needed to and was loose where it needed. You had to admit that it looked good on you. You wouldn't have chosen it, but your mum made a choice that wasn’t half bad.

The party was in full swing when you made it to the venue. You blasted a fake smile when you walked in, and everyone shouted happy birthday and clapped and cheered for you. You greeted everyone just like your parents would've liked you to, but you had a champagne glass in your hand that you sipped on. The moment one was empty, you had another one in your hand.

Carlos was standing in the corner watching you. You've grown so much since he last saw you. He asks himself how nobody could tell how fake your smile is, or maybe they did, but they simply didn't care. He has a glass of some alcoholic beverage in hand that he sips on. He watches as a young female pushes her way through the crowd to reach you. Your smile instantly turns genuine as you hug her closer and longer than everyone else so far.

You manage to sneak away from the fake people with your best friend, and you both find a corner away from everyone. You're giggling with your friend as you people watch, clearly talking about the attendants. The party goes on for a long time.

"I'm so hungry." Lisa, your friend groans, and you give her a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah, well, apparently, the reason the party is earlier in the day is because we're having a family dinner later." You complain and throw your head back, dreading the dinner, you're both now walking around the room in a slow circle, people have calmed and are now talking in groups, the dance floor is filled with older couples slow dancing. Some even left. They were only here to be able to say they came anyways.

"Oh my god! Isn't that ja- oomph!" You exclaim as you hit someone, you stumble, but a pair of hands stops you from making a scene and a big fool of yourself. You look up and meet a gorgeous pair of brown eyes.

You tilt your head to the side, and Carlos has to admit that you've grown so beautiful. Seeing you this close, he couldn't deny it.

"Sorry." You say and frown. "Do I know you?"

"I don't know, do you?" Carlos asks with a cheeky smile. He watches your eyes go wide. The accent is so familiar. You heard it for years from his father.

"Carlos?" You ask, and he smiles. It's him. You haven't seen him in so many years, you remember him vaguely from your childhood. You also remember following him on social media and trying to get to know him before you were blocked on everything. You take a step back and straighten yourself. "What are you doing here?"

This again confirms to him that you don't know about the agreement you both were robbed into before you were even born. "I was invited.”

"Huh, and you actually came." You state and Lisa gives you a questioning look. She doesn't know who Carlos is, you shake your head, and she knows you'll tell her later.

"It's your 21st, after all." Carlos says, and you roll your eyes.

"Good on you to remember, you don't come on holidays anymore." You tell him, and he just smiles.

"I heard you don't go anymore." Carlos fires back, and you nod. You haven't been going the last couple of years always finding an excuse not to go.

"I don't feel like it anymore." You shrug. "How long are you here for?"

"A week before I have to go back to work." Carlos puts his hands in his pockets, and you can't help but admire the man.

"Oh right, you race." You remember what your mother has been telling you, weirdly she's been trying to get you to go and watch Carlos race for a few years now, but you've been refusing

"I'll catch up with you later." Lisa whispers in your ears, you watch her go, and smile when you see the guys she's been watching all day by the bar.

"Do you watch the races?" Carlos asked you, bringing your attention back to him.

"No, I've never watched Formula 1, I only watch when your dad is racing." You have watched Carlos Sr. race a few times with your family, and you have to admit that growing up, you've been close to him, and you liked cars because of him. Not racing, but just you loved admiring cars and driving them.

"I should feel jealous then." You stand in silence for a moment, both looking at each other. There's an intensity to the looks Carlos is sending you. You don't know why.

"Oh good, you two have met." Your mum says, walking over to the two of you, Carlos's mum, Reyes, they're both smiling wide at the two of you.

"I was just about to go look for Lisa." You say and turn to leave before your mum takes hold of your arm and gives you a strained smile.

"Actually, y/n, the party is coming to an end, and we're about to head for dinner." Your mum says, and you frown looking at the Sainzs.

"Wait, they're coming with us?" You asked surprised, this is the first you've heard of it. No one told you this before.

"Yes, so be nice and come on." Your mum's voice is low, so only you could hear her.

"Then Lisa can come."

"No, and we're not going to talk about it." Your mum is getting agitated as she's been with you lately.

"But that doesn't make sense. Why can they come but not Lisa? She's my friend!" You don't care that they heard you, this is your birthday and the least they could do is let you invite your friend.

"y/n, listen to what I say, stop fighting with everything I say." She's not happy with you, and you know the threats that are about to come. "If you don't listen to me, you can kiss your house goodbye, your cards and everything you have will be gone."

You glare at her and turn to leave, you came alone with a driver. You don't bother saying goodbye to the last of the attendants, you just stop for Lisa, tell her a summary of what happened with your mum telling her to enjoy her night with the guy she's talking to before you leave.

On the way to the restaurant, you spot a shop you know well, an idea hits you, you tell the driver to park and hop out, still in your floor length gown and everything. The shop attendant looks at you wide-eyed as you head to the rack where the dress you have in mind is, your mum will kill you for this, but you don't care at the moment. If she wouldn't let you bring your friend then you're going to dress how you like.

You pay for the dress before you head to the changing room. The dress you choose is a better fit for a club, not a high-end restaurant that has been rented out for the night. It's short, just long enough so you wouldn't flash anyone when you sit down, and the neckline is dangerously low. A stark contrast to what you'd usually wear but who cares.

From the hostess to the waiters, they all looked at you with wide eyes, and you had a smile on your face walking through the restaurant.

Carlos is bored out of his mind, sitting at the table with his family and yours. They're all very comfortable with each other from spending years together, and he feels a little like an outsider. He's polite and answers when he's asked a question, but he's not engaging. He wants to know when you'd be informed of your predicament, but he doesn't want to bring it to their attention if they somehow miraculously forgot about it. From his place at the table and with an empty seat next to him, Carlos was the first person to spot you, his jaw dropped, if you looked beautiful and elegant in the first dress, you look HOT in this one. The dress left little to the imagination. He cleared his throat and readjusted himself in his seat, not taking his eyes off you.

"y/n y/n! what are you wearing?" Your mum screeched, making all eyes snap to look at you, Carlos heard one of his sisters choke on her drink and had to control the smirk from appearing on his face. He had a feeling from the look you gave your mum when she refused your friend that you'd do something, but he didn't expect this.

"A dress, dear mother." You reply with a dry tone and sit down in the seat next to him, Carlos's eyes drop to your legs for a second before he looks up and away from you.

"Just let her be for now." Your dad mutters to your mum, and she sighs, slumping in her chair. Slowly, the talking began again. Ana, Carlos's younger sister, leans over to start talking to you. Between all of you, you're the closest to her. Maybe it's because she's closer in age to you.

Carlos hasn't said a word to you since you sat down. He had to clench his fists when you crossed your legs, the already short dress moving upwards. "So y/n what F1 race do you want to go to, Carlos, can get you tickets to the one you like?"

"None, thank you." You say as politely as you can to Reyes, with a fake smile.

"I think going will be a good idea, you can get to know Carlos." You mum nudges, and you frown.

"No offence to Carlos, but why would I want to get to know him?" You ask, and the parents share a look. "Why are you all being so weird? Are you hiding something from me?"

This triggers something in you. They’ve been acting so weird for a long time now.

"No-y/n, it's just."

"Dad, what's happening?" You ask your dad, seeing how flustered your mum is, he'd lay it out to you. He's usually leaving all the problems with you for your mum to handle.

"You and Carlos are getting married." There it was said, the room went silent, Carlos's sisters didn't know where to look. You looked at your dad waiting for him to say he's joking, but he didn't. Carlos took a swing from his drink and sighed. He feels awkward right now. He hoped you'd be informed when he wasn't around and maybe in a gentler way.

"You're joking." You laugh trying to prompt them to say that they are, that this is all a prank and that they got you. None of that happens, and they're sitting there watching you. You throw the napkin on your lap on the table and stand up. "What the actual fuck is going on? How am I getting married to Carlos!"

"y/n sit down please." Your father begs and you glare at him.

"No! Someone better explain to me what is going on?" You looked at everyone, and it appeared like everyone knew about it but you. "Everyone knows? How can everyone know but me?"

"y/n, come here." Your dad is up and making his way to you. He has to pull you by your arm and to a private room in the restaurant. Your mum is following hot on your heels.

"Well, that went well." Carlos says and stands up. He walks to the balcony and leans on the railing, looking out at the night sky.

Your shouting could be heard from where Carlos stood, they're explaining the agreement, how it's legally binding, they're probably threatening you. Carlos is proud of your cursing and shouting and fighting back. He was scared you'd be raised to like and obey him, that you'd be timid and easily persuaded.

"I don't fucking care... daddy you can't make me do this.... I don't care, I don't care, I don't care... I will shout if I want to! You're not controlling my life!... I hate you, I hate you both so much!"

Carlos hears the door open and your heels clicking on the floor as you fast walk to the table where your phone sat. Carlos just makes it back when you've had them in your hands, your parents making it back as well.

"Lovely meeting you all, happy fucking birthday to me, I'll go die now." You say and walk off, pissed off and rightfully so.

"Go after her." Ana whispers to Carlos, and he looks at her with another nod of encouragement he follows you. He sees you standing outside clearly cold waiting for your car.

Carlos takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulder. You only spare him a glance. Carlos struggles to find words to say to you, he's known about this since he was 11 and he's come to accept it but here you are just finding out in front of him and his family.

"When did you find out?" You asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

"When I was 11." Carlos says and your face snapped to look at him, there's sympathy in your eyes, you have no idea what's better to find out when you're still a child and have everything robbed out of it, how can you continue being a child when you're told something like this, or is it worse being told in the same year, where you'd have no time to come to terms with it.

"This is fucked up." You say, shaking your head.

"Yeah." The car pulls up to a stop in front of you, but you don't make a move to get in. "They planned for us to meet again before I leave." You scoff at this, not believing how they have everything planned already before you were even told. "Give me your phone." You look at him and reluctantly hand him your phone, Carlos puts in his number and calls himself, so he'd have your number. "Go home, try to relax and think about everything, but just so you know, there's no getting out of this, legally, I've tried for years."

"It must've been hard for you." You say and give him a small smile. "Good night."

"Good night."

Carlos was right. Your mum sent you a text when you rejected her calls. She said that you have to come to this family function, you have to start being seen with Carlos. You half wanted to block her, but you knew that she'd just get a new number and then a new number and so on until you wouldn't ignore her anymore.

Carlos also texted you, but you only replied with one word answers, not feeling like replying to him. On the day of the function, you were sitting on the sofa in your home in a pair of shorts and a random t-shirt. Your doorbell rang in the silent apartment, making you sigh and reluctantly get up to see who it is. Opening the door, you see Carlos standing there. He's dressed in a white linen shirt with white shorts. Leaning on the door, you look at him but say nothing. You’re out of your heels, making Carlos realise how much shorter you are than him. The make-up is gone, and it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. This is a contrast from the dolled up version he saw on your birthday. Both beautiful, both breathtaking.

"I see that you already decided not to come." Carlos states, and you sigh and turn and walk in your apartment, Carlos following you closing the door. Carlos takes a moment to look over the apartment. You plop down on the sofa in the same position as before. "I texted you."

"You and everyone else." You say and text Lisa, not looking at him.

"You do know that if you don't go, they'll come over, right?" You haven't thought of that. You sit up and look at Carlos, who is looking at the artwork you have on the walls. He turns to look at you with a grin. "I suggest you change before that happens."

"But I don't want to go." You whine and sigh.

"Who said anything about going, I said change." Carlos smirks, and your eyes light up at the thought of him helping you escape your family.

"You'll help me escape?" You ask him hope bubbling inside of you.

"Yes"

"Oh my god, thank you!" You run to your bedroom, closing the door and changing into a sundress, taking your bag with all your essentials. "Did you drive here?" You ask Carlos coming out of the bedroom. He's made himself comfortable on your sofa. Carlos looks up from his phone, his eyes giving you a once over.

"No, I don't have a car here." You nod. It makes sense. He lives in Spain, after all.

"Well, you're in luck. Which car do you want to take?" You ask him and nod to where you had your car keys hanging one next to each other, a Porch, a McLaren, a Mercedes, and then a Ferrari.

"Wow, hermosa, I didn't know you liked cars," Carlos says and stands beside you to look at the logos on the keys. You grin and look at him.

"There's so much you don't know about me." You say, and Carlos looks at you also smiling.

"Well, let's change that." He takes the Ferrari keys, and you both make your way to the garage, Carlos presses the key and sees the dark blue Ferrari lights up. He gives you a look, and you grin.

"Do you want to drive?" You ask him.

"Yes, if you're okay with it."

"Of course, if I don't trust a race car driver to drive, who would I trust?" You tease him and get into the passenger side of the car. The 488 Pista is your baby. You only ever let Lisa drive it, but you trust Carlos to be careful. "Do you have an idea about where we could go?"

"Yes, don't think I didn't come prepared." Carlos said, and you laughed, you look out the window as the scenes changed. Carlos was driving close to the river.

"Be honest, you don't know where we're going." You say realising he’s gone in a circle.

“I don’t know, but we can just drive around.” Carlos admits, but it doesn’t sway him. You hum and agree. You sit in silence for a while with so many questions and possibilities going through your head. “You can ask me anything you want, I can hear you thinking.”

”Okay, but don’t regret it.” You warn him, and he laughs. You find yourself smiling as you watch him. It takes you a moment to find the first question to ask. “Did you stop coming on holidays and our families' meetings so you wouldn’t see me?”

”Yes, every time I saw you, I remembered what’s going to happen.” Carlos decided that being honest with you is the best thing that could happen. You’ve been lied to (by omission) for long enough.

“I’m sorry.” You suddenly felt guilty, even though you only just found out about it.

“Nothing to be sorry about, hermosa.” Carlos glances at you and smiles. “We’re both robbed into an agreement that was made way before we were even born.”

”Right, you said that you tried to get out of it. What do you mean?” You ask him, the first thing that came to your mind while talking to your parents is getting out of the agreement.

”It means that the contracts were signed and that if one of us breaks the contract, the other will be cut off by the families, financially and everything, we’d be publicly disowned.”

”Surely they wouldn’t do that.” You have problems with your parents, yes, but you love them, and they wouldn’t just throw you on the streets despite the usual threats from your mother.

”I’m afraid they would. Our parents want this marriage more than anything else.” Carlos says, and you groan, wanting to cry, as the reality of it all sets in.

”So we’re stuck?” Your voice wavers, Carlos looks at you and sees the tears gathering in your eyes. Carlos sports a parking spot, and he doesn’t care when he ilegaly overtakes the car beside him and parks. Carlos takes your hand in both of his much bigger ones. You look up at him, and a tear leaves your eye. You wipe it away and bite your bottom lip.

”We are, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing.” Carlos tries to comfort you the best he can. He was young and alone when he found out. He doesn’t want you to go through the same things as he did. “I’m going to try to make this as easy as I can, I know that you don’t want to get married to me, and you’re beautiful and amazing but I don’t want to get married to you, there’s nothing for us to do but try and make it easier for ourself.”

Tears leave your eyes, and you nod in agreement. You try to smile, but your lips wouldn’t even quirk up a little. Carlos is sympathetic; he's the only person who understands you right now. You’re both in the same boat.

“Have you thought about marriage before your birthday?” Carlos asked, he was hesitant, he dated knowing that it’s going nowhere, he’s never put his all in a relationship before, hasn’t given his heart to anyone, it may have not been fair to the women he’s been with but he protected his heart by keeping it close. Since you didn’t know it means you could’ve loved someone, hell, you could be in a relationship right now, you could be in love with someone and he’s forced to take you away from that person. Carlos may not want this marriage, but it’s happening, and he’ll be damned if he let his wife be with someone else. Call it toxic masculinity, call it possiveness, call it whatever you want, but from now on, you’re his. He feels bad for you, but it changes nothing.

”No, I haven’t, haven’t even been in a proper relationship.” You mutter and wipe the last of your tears away. You take your hand out of Carlos’s and look in your phone to see the state you’re in.

”I find that hard to believe.” Carlos is a tad bit suspicious. You’re beautiful. There’s no way a man hasn’t caught your attention yet.

”Well you best believe it, I wasn’t allowed to date when I was living with my parents, and then after, every person I was interested in just dropped me before anything happened.” You shrug and fix your hair, not looking at Carlos. You miss the look on his face. He knew what that meant, even if you had no idea. Your parents must have had a hand in this. He’s relieved, he doesn’t comment on this, and pulls out of the parking spot he was still parked in.

”You know what I find unfair?” You mumble, your head resting on the window as you stare at the city moving past.

“What?”

”That I was the last to know, you all knew and had time to come to terms with it and I’m expected to be okay with everything and get married by the end of the year or early next year.”

“None of this is fair, y/n.” He has a point, but it doesn’t make it better. There’s rage bubbling inside of you. You’re hurt, angry, betrayed, and it’s all simmering inside of you. “Hasn’t your parents called you?”

”My phone is on silent.” You comment and don’t make a move to check. “Have they called you?”

”I texted Ana and told her I’m with you.” You hum, and Carlos continues driving.

By the time Carlos drives back to your house, you’re both hungry. You don’t invite him up for food or drink, not wanting to spend any more time with him for the day. Carlos is nice. He’s caring, a true gentleman. You’re stuck within for the rest of your life, and you’d love to be as free as you can before you’re forced to be glued to him.

“Thank you for today.” You tell Carlos with a smile.

”No worries.” Carlos makes a move to get out of the car.

”Wait! you can keep the car while you’re here.” You feel bad making him take a car wherever he’s going next, and you have plenty, him having one for a few days will not affect you.

”Are you sure?” Carlos asks, you nod in confirmation. “Alright thank you, hermosa. Good night.”

”Good night.”

When you get to your apartment, you can see that your mum was there. She certainly went through your things, probably trying to figure out where you went. If you ever want to hide anything you know where to hide it, it’s your apartment, after all.

Looking at your phone, you wince seeing the 20+ pissed calls mostly from your mum. but a few from your father and the Sainzs as well. Your mum probably made them call you. You contemplate for a moment before you decide to bite the bullet and call her before she makes her way back to your house.

”y/n y/l/n, where have you been? Do you know how much i’ve called? Why are you ignoring me? This is so embarrassing, I can’t believe we’ve come to this!” Your mum goes on and on, you pull the phone away from your ear, and you still hear her voice screaming. It takes her a couple of minutes before she’s silent.

”Mum, I know that you know, I was with Carlos.” You tell her your tone nonchalant, pissing her off more. “This is what you wanted anyways, I’m spending my time with my ‘betrothed’.”

”So why didn't you just come? The Sainzs are leaving in a couple of days! You have to spend time with them.” She screams again, and you pinch between your eyes, feeling a headache coming in.

”I know them, okay? It’s not like you married me off to a strange family, I know them pretty well. The only person I don’t know is Carlos, and I spent the day with him, so win, win.” You try to reason with her.

”It’s not a win win-“

”Look, you and dad basically sold me before I was even born, and I was just told about it, I can do whatever I want, I’ll marry him but I’m entitled to be pissed off and go with getting to know him the way I want, goodbye and dont try to call me before next week because I wont answer.” With that, you hang up on her, leaning back. You fall onto your bed and close your eyes. “What a mess.”

To her credit, your mum lets you have your days, and she doesn’t call, but come next Monday, she calls you early in the morning. The Sainzs were out of the country, and your car was back in your garage with the keys left inside for you to take and a text from Carlos letting you know.

“When I said to not call until next week, I didn’t mean to call me at 6 in the morning on Monday!” You say answering the phone, Lisa goans and pushes you away. She spent the night at your house, you glare and get out of the bed, and head to the living room, leaving your friend to sleep before she has to get ready to head out.

”Oh be grateful, y/n.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

”I swear to god…” She mumbles a few things that aren’t that nice before she takes a deep breath to calm herself. You just have that effect on your mum. “Look, I just wanted to tell you that we decided the date for the engagement.”

”Wow, how nice of you to inform me of my engagement date.” You say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “Do tell when will I be officially spoken for?”

”I’m choosing to ignore your tone-“

”You’re not ignoring if you’re pointing it out.”

”It’s in five weeks, I’ll send you the details.” You continue as if you haven’t interrupted her. “Carlos will get you tickets for the Italian Grand Prix in Imola, so be nice.”

”Why do I have to go there? there’s nothing about me having to make an appearance or act all lovey dovey with him.” You whine not understanding why they couldn’t just let you get married without all the show around it.

“Because, he’s a public figure, and we have to make it as natural as we can.” She was talking to you like you were a child, something that always irked you about her.

”Didn’t think of that when you all decided to force us into this, did you?”

”You better go to this Grand Prix and any other he gives you tickets for, do you understand?”

”I’m taking Lisa.”

“No you’re not!” You never understand what your mum has for your best friend.

”Yes I am!”

”No you’re not, Carlos is only sending you one ticket.” She’s seething right now. “Bye.”

You take a cushion, press it to your face, and scream, you scream and scream.

”What’s wrong with you?” Lisa asked stumbling out of the bedroom, half asleep.

”I’m going to Italy to see my future husband.”

”Oh.”

”Yes, oh.”

y/n

Can you send me two tickets 👉👈

please

Carlos

why? are you bringing a bf or smth?

y/n

ha ha

no ☠️

for Lisa, my friend

Carlos

your mum told me not to give you an extra one

y/n

and do you always listen to my mum

Carlos

that’s why I’m sending you an extra one

also I’ll make sure she has a room in our hotel

y/n

thanks

Carlos

no worries

see you in 9 days

y/n

9days!!!!

i didn’t know it was in 9 days

Carlos

woops

the race is on sunday

we have to be there on Wednesday for media on Thursday

y/n

cool

see you then I guess

Carlos

Wow don’t sound so excited to see me

y/n

go die 💀

Carlos

good beiging to this marriage

y/n

🖕

You fly with Lisa despite your mum's words. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her anyway. You didn’t see Carlos before Thursday, having reached the hotel and changed and went out to explore with Lisa. You girls had so much fun, you’ve never been to this part of Italy before.

On Thursday morning, you wake up to a knock on the door, you’re sharing with Lisa.

“y/n open the door.” Lisa isn’t a morning person, and it shows, you groan and get up to open the door, and it’s, surprise, surprise, Carlos.

”Morning.” You greet the spanish man with a sheepish smile.

”Morning, you guys have fun yesterday?” Carlos asked with a smirk. He saw Lisa on her bed behind you. The room was messy, and you’ve been here less than 24 hours.

”You can say that.” You say looking at the room over your shoulder before turning back to look at him. “When are we leaving?”

”In half an hour, just text me when you’re done, I’m already ready to go.” Carlos says and you notice the red team kit he’s wearing.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit.”

You get ready first, thankfully you showered the night before, so you just had to get dressed and do your make-up. When you text Carlos once you’re both ready, he tells you to come downstairs. You see him standing with a few people from his team, waking over with a smile on your face.

”Good morning everyone, sorry we kept you waiting.” You say trying to sound as polite as you can.

”No worries, hermosa, you’re just on time.” Carlos says, he wraps an arm around your waist and introduces you to everyone. “… and this is y/n, my girlfriend.”

Your smile wavers at the word but you don’t say anything. Getting in the car you sit in between Carlos and Lisa.

”Girlfriend?” You whisper and glare at him.

”What was I supposed to say? We’re getting engaged in a month.” Carlos whispers back and you sigh, leaning back in your chair crossing your arms. “I don’t like this as much as you do, but we have to play our parts.”

”Could’ve fooled me.” You mutter but say nothing else.

With sunglasses on, and Lisa following behind. You walk in with Carlos, he doesn’t hold your hand, but it doesn’t matter, cameras are snapping away at the two of you. This is all new to you, you’ve never had people trying to take pictures of you before.

”Just relax and act like they’re not there.” Carlos tells you, seeing how nervous you are, maybe he should’ve talked to you before you made your paddock debut. “Once we’re inside you can go and explore with Lisa.”

True to his word, Carlos showed you both where the Ferrari motorhome was and let you guys loose to explore.

“Who is that cutie?” Lisa asks seeing a picture of one of the drivers in orange.

”Don’t know.” You tell her not paying him much attention. “I feel like we should’ve done our research before we came.”

“True, but we’ve been to rally races before, how different could it be?” You give her a look and she shrugs. “Completely different, okay, I got it. We can research today, ooh look we can get merch!”

”Why do you want merch, we don't know anything about anything!” You say but get pulled by Lisa anyways, you do end up browsing with her, the sun was killing you, so you looked at all the different coloured hats. You go to the Ferrari ones and debat choosing either the 55 one or just the team ones.

”Hey, y/n, I’m paying, are you coming?” Lisa calls, you pick a hat and go to the cashier with her. “Supporting the team I see.”

”Stop, it’s hot and the sun is bothering me.” You defend yourself looking at the plain Ferrari hat.

”Whatever you say.” You gently push her away, making your friend fall into a fit of giggles. You couldn’t help but laugh with her.

You get ice cream and spend your time just entertaining yourselves. Carlos was busy filming for Ferrari and doing his interviews so you only saw him at lunch. Where he spent next to you but speaking with his trainer while you and Lisa were gossiping.

The ride back to the hotel saw you and Lisa tired, and silent.

“Looks like you tired yourselves out.” Carlos said and you just hummed. “I forgot to tell you at lunch, you know there’s hats with my number on them right?”

”I know.” You say and give him a playful smile. “It was right next to this one.”

The next day you spend more in the garage watching FP1 and FP2, you and Lisa tried to familiarise yourselves with everything that you researched the day before. Lisa did spend more time familiarising herself with the drivers. Watching the garage function, really made you appreciate everything more, it cemented how amazing this sport is.

At the end of of FP1 and FP2 Ferrari did better than they expected, the cameras flashed to the garage a few times, showing Alex, Charles girlfriend and they flashed to you at one point, but there was no name or anything under you.

The ride back to the hotel was more lively this time around, you’ve done your homework when it came to Formula 1 but you still have so many questions, so taking that time you ask Carlos about whatever came to your mind, and it seems that there’s still so much that you don’t know about.

”…drivers in the simulator at the factory overnight, going over all the data and all the possibilities.” Carlos was explaining, you were listening and nodding to his words as you’re starting to understand just the magnitude of the sport.

“Girl, check Twitter.” Lisa says interrupting your conversation, you lean over to look at her phone, and on her feed are pictures taken from your Instagram, with your name and age written for everyone to see.

”Looks like the online detective found my Instagram.” You comment and roll your eyes, not even wanting to know what they’re saying about you.

“That’s faster than I expected.” Carlos, thought that it would take them more time, since you’re not a public figure in any way.

“You underestimate the power of the fans.” You say and sigh. “It wouldn’t have been that hard, my family is linked to yours, and if anyone did any simple digging they’d find me on your sisters' Instagrams.”

”I guess that’s true.” Carlos took out his phone and opened Instagram. “What’s your username?”

”y/insta/n, but you’d have to unblock me first before you drop a follow.” Carlos freezes at your words, you let out a laugh and bump your shoulder with his teasingly. You watch as he types it in and unblocks you, only to find himself blocked, he turns to look at you with raised eyebrows. “What? You blocked me first.”

You take out your phone and see the amount of notification on Instagram, will have to turn them off for sure. You unblock Carlos and follow him, and he does the same.

”You guys just confirmed to everyone that you’re dating.” Lisa informed you and you gave her a sarcastic smile and a thumbs up. “So Carlos… are you friends with Lando?”

This makes you burst out laughing, only your friend would ask something like that to a guys she barely knows.

”Yeah, I’m having dinner with him today.” Carlos says and Lisa looks at you with wide eyes and pouting lips. You grimace and look at Carlos who was smirking.

“y/nnnnn.” Lisa whines and takes your hand in hers, you look at her and sigh. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She hugs you before turning to Carlos. “When are you meeting him?”

“At 7.”

“We'll be ready before that.”

And so Lisa robbed you into a dinner with your future husband and one of his friends, you were not in the mood for acting all lovey-dovey with Carlos. Nonetheless, you get dressed in one of your dresses, fix your hair and touch up your make-up. Carlos does text you and say that you’re all going to a nearby restaurant, that’s private.

Carlos was waiting for you guys downstairs when you were done. His eyes ran from your hair down to your feet, taking you in. He noticed how much you liked dresses and how good they look on you. You’re always in some type of heels or chunky sneakers, giving your height a boost. But his mind goes back to when he was in our apartment and how short you are compared to him, he has to clear his throat and look away for a second to stop his mind from wandering too much.

Carlos leads you to the car, you sit in the passenger seat with Lisa in the back and of course Carlos is driving. The music is turned on low and a small chatter is happening between the three of you.

The three of you get out of the car once Carlos parks, he finds his place by your side even though Lisa is talking to you. You don’t notice his hand in the air behind your back before it drops to his side clenching. Carlos did not expect the possessiveness that’s ignited in him each time he sees you, you’re doing something in him unknowingly and it frustrates him how unbothered and unaffected you are.

The hostess lead you to a table at the back, Carlos pulls your chair for you and takes the one next to you after you’ve sat down. Lando arrives a few minutes later, he quickly greets Carlos warmly, before he turns to you.

”And you’re y/n?” Lando asks you smile and nod.

”Yes, it’s lovely to meet you.” You say, Lando gives a small and not all there smile before he turns to Lisa and greets her, he sits across from Carlos and next to your friend.

”So Carlos told me he was your first teammate, how was he like?” Lisa asked trying to start a conversation.

”Uh, he was great, couldn’t ask for a better teammate to have at the start of my Formula 1 journey.” You could tell how close the two are, how much love and respect they have for each other. “Yeah, Carlos is super nice to those he’s not forced to be with.” You know then that he knows about what’s going on between you and Carlos, for one you don’t have to act which is a good thing for you. Carlos gives Lando a look. “What? I said nothing.”

The waiter comes and takes your orders, before leaving.

”So, y/n, what do you do?” Lando asked, it looked like had his sights on you for the day.

”I’m still studying.” You say and give Lando the fakest smile you could master.

“And what do you plan after that?” Lando may have seemed slick and just interested in what his friends 'girlfriend' is like but it's not working on you, or the other two on the table.

“Don't know, still have time to decide.” You shrug and look at Lisa who didn't may have just lost all her interest in Lando.

“How does a housewife or gold digger soun-”

“Oh my god!” Lisa exclaimed and leaned away from Lando as if he'll contaminate her if she stayed close.

“Get off it Lando.” Carlos was not happy, he told Lando not for him to torment you, but to share his worries with a friend.

“Its okay Carlos.” You say with a sickly sweet smile and pat his hand on the table where it clenched, before you turned to Lando. “Since we're all adults here, and we all know what's going on, why don't you say whatever you want to say to me Lando.”

“Hermosa.”

“Honestly Carlos, it's fine, we don't know each other that well, but best assured I can take care of myself and I'm not easily bothered.” You tell him and he sighs and leans back in his chair in defeat. You gesture for Lando to go on.

“Look, Carlos is my friend, and I don't like him being forced into this by your family.” Lando starts, he's moving his hand as he speaks. “I don't understand why you're going along with it! Why can't you look for a way out? Carlos has dreams and he's on top of his career right now he doesn't need this.”

“I understand that you care for your friend Lando, I truly do, which is why I'm not taking any of those to heart.” You tell him and tap your fingers on the table as you pause for a second your eyes giving him a once over, noticing his blazing eyes wanting to just erase you from existence. “But while you were thinking about Carlos, Lisa was also thinking about me, asking why did his family make this happen? Why couldn't he find a way out of this?” You see him opening his mouth to reply. “No, you had your turn now it's my turn. I also have dreams, I also want to do things and I don't want to be stuck in a loveless marriage for the rest of my life. Me and Carlos, we're like pawns in this, we have no say, so don't you dare judge me, you have no idea what's it to be in my position.”

“This whole thing is just a big fat lie!” Lando exclaimed, and your eyes are no longer kind, they're no longer brought and light. You're angry, you're agitated.

“Well this big fat lie is my life! It's my reality!” This takes Lando by surprise, it looks like for the first time Lando sees you and he takes you in. The intensity of his gaze softening as he watched you. His shoulders slumped slightly, the anger draining from his face, replaced by a weary sadness.

“Look, I’m sorry.” He said quietly, his voice now devoid of its earlier harshness. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I just... I care about Carlos. He’s like an older brother to me. I want him to be happy.”

You blink, taken aback by his sudden change in tone you take a deep breath, the tension in your body easing slightly. “I understand, Lando. I want him to be happy too. But this is bigger than both of us. We’re all caught in this web, and there’s no way out. The only things we can do, is try to make the best of this situation we found ourselves in.”

You give Lando an olive branch smile, he returns it with one of his own although it was tinged with sadness. “I just... I don’t want to see my friend miserable.”

“Neither do I,” you replied softly. “Neither do I.”

As the tension between you eased, Lisa smiled.

“Well, that was intense.” Lisa said giving you a look of encouragement, you just give her a nod. “Looks like my choice in men hasn't gotten better.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Lando asked her confusedly, clearly Carlos hadn't told him that Lisa was interested in him.

“You do know that the reason we're having dinner with you is because I told Carlos I wanted to meet you, right?”

Those two biker and speak sarcastically to each other as they begin to get to know each other.

Carlos takes your hand under the table and gives it a squeeze, you look at him, only to find him already looking at you.

“Every time I see you, you surprise me.” Carlos mutters and you smile teasingly.

“Have to keep you on your toes somehow.”

“Then please don't stop.”

The night ends on a good note and a new number in Lisa's phone.

You go to a few races after that, always seen with Carlos, your relationship already confirmed to the public and it became well known that you've known each other since you were kids. Carlos ‘accidently’ said that you've been together for over a year, so when the engagement is announced it wouldn't be a big shock. Otherwise your life hasn't changed much, something that is bound to happen the moment there's a ring on your finger.

The fans thankfully fell in love with the story of young, childhood friends, losing contact then meeting years later and falling in love. And you were real in all the ways you could with the fans and cameras, that rebellious streak you have, has been noticed and noted by fans. And they love you all the more for it.

The Spanish Grand Prix is where you’re headed to next. Your family was also in Spain for the event, and it’s the last Grand Prix you’ll be attending before your engagement is announced.

You were staying at the Sainzs’ house, where you always stay when you’re in Spain. Eating breakfast there before heading out to the paddock, it became a family affaire, you have no idea how his team managed to get him this many passes, but home races are different after all.

”My mum has been hounding me those last few days.” You complain to Carlos as you walk through the paddock together, him in Ferrari Kit and you in a red dress and a red Ferrari hat, no number still.

“She’s just stressed about the engagement.” Carlos tells you and slows down just enough so you could walk in front of him through the crowd of people, his hand makes it way to the small of your back. His hand is big and hot on your back, it has you suppressing a shiver.

“Highly doubt this is the reason.” You tell the Spanish man now by your side, his hand not moving from the small of your back as he leads you around the paddock, you’re not even focusing on your destination just letting him take you wherever he wants.

”My mum has also been stressed.” Carlos forever trying not to make your mum a bad person in your eyes, but you know her well enough to know how she is.

”Carlos, your mum and my mum may be friend but they’re completely different.” You tell him and meet his eyes for a second, in that second Carlos thought he saw some sadness in your eyes, but he can’t be sure. “There’s a reason I always spend time with Anna at your family house and not mine.”

”And here I thought you just like the Spanish heat.” Carlos teased and you bump your shoulder with his. “But don’t mind her too much, in a few days she’ll be back home and you’ll be free from her.”

”True.” You mutter and take a deep breath, slowly releasing it. You reach the Ferrari garage from the back, and Carlos leads you through the hospitality and to his driver’s room, the one that has his bed. You walk in and see a beautiful bouquet of flowers, tulips to be precise. “Ohh look someone got you flowers.”

You walk over to the tulips admiring them, they’re your favourite kind. You touch the petals and take in a whiff of the scent, Carlos stands by the door smiling, the sun coming in from the windows leaving you glowing.

”They’re for you.” Carlos leans on the door and shameless stares at you, your head snaps to look at him.

”What?” You want to make sure you heard him correctly.

”I got them for you, Anna said they’re your favourite.” Carlos watched as the smile on your face grew bigger and he saw a side to you that he never did before, a blush dusts your cheeks and you look… shy. It makes him proud of his decision to get you flowers.

”They are? What’s the occasion?” You ask him, holding the flowers in your arms.

”No occasion, just wanted to give you something that will lift your spirits.” Carlos’s gaze didn’t waver from your form, but the smile on your face made him smile.

”Well, consider them lifted.” You look at Carlos and walk up to him. “Thank you.”

You wrap an arm around his neck careful of the bouquet in between you. Carlos hugs you loosely, he takes in your scent. The smell of your shampoo and perfume filling his nose, you’re in feels making your reach that bit easier. You both stand there for a moment before you pull back still smiling. You don’t think you’ve ever gotten flowers from anyone before.

So you best believe you’ve taken a million pictures of them, some made their way onto your Instagram story. With those flowers Carlos made you happier than any jewellery your family got you, it’s something so simple but makes you the happiest.

After the end of the Grand Prix and before your parents have to leave, they’re sticking around for two days. For the engagement of course.

You were with Anna in her room, laying on her bed as she did something on her desk. She was telling you about a new drama happening in her friend group.

”y/n.” Carlos calls your name coming in the room, you sit up and look at him.

”What?” You ask him tilting your head to the side slightly.

”Let’s go.” Carlos said simply and that confused you even more.

”Where?”

”Just come, or your mum will be all over us in a few minutes.” Carlos knew exactly what to say, you were off the bed and out of the room in seconds, just stopping in yours long enough to take your purse. Carlos lead your to his matt grey Ferrari, you get in the passenger seat and it doesn’t take long before Carlos drives off.

”Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” You ask the Spaniard besides you. “Or are you going to tell me you know where we’re going, but in fact you’ll be lost and we’ll just drive around?”

”Hey, it was only one time.” Carlos defends himself, you smile and look out the window trying to see where you’re going. “I’m just taking us to my house, we can have a moment alone before…”

Carlos trails off but you know what he means, before the engagement is out for everyone to know about. It’s your first time at his house, the house is big and as you walk in, it screams Carlos. A bit man cave-y, but still him.

”Do you want anything to drink?” Carlos asked, walking into the kitchen, leaving you to look around as you like.

”No thank you, I’m sure we’ll be drinking enough once we’re back.” You tell him and look at the few pictures he has up on the walls. You’re looking at a painted F1 Ferrari on the wall when Carlos comes back to you. “I always wonder what it's like driving that fast.”

“Very thrilling and adrenaline pumping.” Carlos says and you turn to look at him, there’ a glint in your eyes that he’s familiar with nowadays.

”You’re lucky my parents didn’t let me get into karting, or you’d have some serious competition.” You tease and walk around him to the sofa, you plop down and it just sucks you in. “This sofa is so comfy.”

”I bet you’d be , would have my money on you anyways.” Carlos joins you on the sofa and looks at your relaxed state, he likes seeing you here, in his house. He hates what he’ll say next seeing how comfy you are right now, but this talk has been long overdue. “I think we need to talk about a few things.”

“I guessed so.” You say and sit straighter, pulling your legs up on the sofa and to your chest, your hands around your legs, head on your knees as you look at Carlos.

”With the engagement things will become different, more media will be all over you, a lot of things will be said, a lot of speculation.” Carlos wants you to be as ready as you could, he’s heard and seen what it does to wags and he doesn’t want you to be affected by it. “I know you’re strong and can take care of yourself but just be ready.”

”I will, don't worry.” You can tell there’s more to come, Carlos is just taking it easy to start. “Now tell me what you really wanted to talk about.”

”We live in different countries, and I don’t want to make you come live in Spain if you don’t want to, but for this to work, I think it’s best you stay here, whenever I’m here, You still have another two years at university, so I wouldn't want you to move in right away, but just when you can.”

”I’ve been thinking about that, and uh after the wedding, I can switch to online school.” You tell him meeting his eyes, Carlos looks surprised, you chuckle and shake your head lightly. “It’s getting boring anyways, people keep asking me about you when I go. Plus there’s so many countries I haven’t been to yet, that you travel to for racing.”

”I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” Carlos promises and you grin.

”You know, I’m a trust fund baby right?” Carlos raises his arms in defeat and you smile. “You can pay for my cars to be shipped here.”

”Okay, wow, I see how it is.” The tone turns serious once more. “I never said I was sorry about all this.”

”You most definitely don’t have to, this wasn’t in our hands, there’s nothing we can do about it.” You move closer to Carlos and pat his hand in comfort. “And if it’s of any comfort, I’m glad it’s you and not some asshole.”

”I’m glad it’s you too.”

”See, we only have to look at the bright side of things.” You both stay silent for a moment, your hands right next to each other. “Have you chosen the ring yet?

”Yeah, yeah, I have it.” This gets Carlos moving, he disappears to a different room, before he comes back with a velvet box in hand. Carlos sits next to you, your knees almost touching and angles himself to you. He opens the box and there’s a beautiful three stones ring all round cut, with small diamonds on the band.

”It’s beautiful.” You say smiling, it doesn’t feel like your ring, you’ve never been engaged before but you know this is not the feeling you were supposed to have. This isn’t how you’d always imagined your engagement to go. It’s all real now.

”Do you want me to…” Carlos wants to ask before he trails off, he takes in the look on your face, a tight lip smile and teary eyes, you bite your lips and scrunch your nose for a moment, trying to keep them at bay.

”No it’s alright.” You mumble and take the rings out the box and slip it on to your ring finger, it fits you perfectly, a few tears slip from your eyes, and unlike many it’s not from happiness, it’s sadness, you were robbed of a proposal, of dating, of loving, or choosing.

”I’m so sorry, y/n, truly, I wish I had found a way out of this.” Carlos tells you sincerely, you take a deep breath brushing your tears away and you lean over and hug him, Carlos doesn’t hesitate before he hugs you back, you both need this. This hug means a lot to the both of you.

“Stop apologising, please.” Your voice is muffled as you hide your face in his shoulder, he holds you tighter. You don’t know how long you’ve sat there for before you pull back with a fake and weak smile. “I should take a few pictures for Instagram, before we have to head back.”

Carlos watches you as you go through the motions with no real emotion behind your action. It’s something you have to do.

The drive back is silent as you try to control all your emotions, there’s still more pictures you have to take, more smiling, more laughter. When you walk in, your mum is the first to notice the new addition on your finger, she squeals s if she had no idea it will happen today. They all congratulate you like this has been your choice all along. You just say thank you and smile. They pose you and Carlos for pictures, they take turns standing in and having group pictures taken, you and Carlos just go along with everything.

Wine bottles have been popped and drinks were passed around, Carlos didn’t drink knowing he’d drive back to his house. He’s made to sit next to you and Anna takes your other side. He’s happy talking with you both and not stuck with the others. His older sister and husband are not here for the occasion.

Your parents seemed to have drunk more than they could handle as you can see your mum getting tipsy and then drunk. You pay them no attention until something is said that has all your attention on them.

“-I mean we worked so hard to push them away from her, my y/n so beautiful.” Your mum says and you stare at her in horror, Reyes tipsy but still more sober tries to gets your mum to stop, but once she began there was no stopping her. “All those boys we paired off to stay away from her, and we tried to get her to go to a race for so long, but she’s just so stubborn, oh god, I’m so happy, can’t wait for her to get married, who knew who’d bring if we didn’t do that, always rebellious-“

”I’m glad you’re happy.” You mutter glaring at your parents, before you get up and storm out of the room, your mood changing so much throughout the day. So many ups and downs, more downs though.

“y/n, wait!” A few people shout after you, you don’t stop, you know someone is following you out of the house but you don’t even glance to see who it is.

”Hermosa, wait!” Carlos calls for you, you don’t stop but slow down as he reaches you. “I won’t try to defend her this time, but do you want to stay at my house tonight?”

You just nod, unable to gather your strengths to speak. Once more you get in Carlos's car and he drives you to his house in complete silence. Carlos knew about the agreement long before you did, he was allowed to date and explore meanwhile, you were watched and robbed of those experiences. Feeling as if though none likes you, that you're unlikable, unattractive.

Carlos leads you through the house to his bedroom. “I'll get you some clothes and you can shower if you want, the bathroom is right there.”

You just nod and go into the bathroom, Carlos brings you a shirt and a pair of shorts. “thanks.” You mumble. Carlos stands at the door for a sword debating what to say if anything, before he leaves you.

You strip out of your clothes, and hop in the shower, the water is hot on your skin but you don't care, you just stand there and the tears start leaving your eyes. They disappear with the water down the drain leaving no trace of them.

Carlos is texting his sister, on his bed when he hears your sobs. He feels so bad for you, your family has gone about everything so wrong. They've so set on reaching their end goal, and didn't care about what it would do to you in the process. His family isn't that much better, but between the two of you, he's had it much better.

And all he can do now is sit and hear you cry, there's nothing he can do to make it better.

The water stops, and you're no longer crying, but you don't come out for a while. Carlos gets a notification that you posted on Instagram, yes he has your post notification on. He opens it to see a picture of the two of you at his family’s house. your hand on his chest with the ring visible for everyone to see, his hands are on your waist as you both smile at the camera. You also post a story of the engagement ring, with fake words that mean nothing to him.

He looks up once he hears the bathroom door open, and even if you were just crying, seeing you in his clothes has him wanting to pull you closer. The clothes are big on you, the shirt hiding most of the shorts, that you must've pulled the string off so much to get them to fit your waist.

“You don't have any conditioner.” You tell him acting as if you haven't just spent half an hour crying in the bathroom.

“Yea, uh, sorry, I don't use conditioner.” Carlos says and blinks a few times, you're busy towel drying your hair to notice his eyes on you.

“You don't use conditioner? How is your hair always so… Soft and fluffy then?” You finish with the towel and look at him.

“Good genes I guess.” You nod to his words. “You can sleep here, I'll take the guest bedroom.”

“No way, this is your room, I'm not taking it from you.” Carlos walks Closer and places his hand on your shoulders, from this close he couldn't see how red your eyes are.

“Just please, take it, the bed is comfier here.”

“But-”

“For me, please.” Your eyes don't stray from his, and you see the sincerity in them, so you reluctantly nod.

“Okay, yeah, thank you.” You mumble and look down.

“No worries, hermosa.” Carlos kisses your cheek softly, and leaves you standing there. Your eyes has gone wide, his lips leaving a tingling feeling in their wake. Your cheeks are red and your heart is beating fast in your chest.

“What are you doing to me?” You ask yourself, before you shake your head and head to bed.

Laying in his bed, under his covers on his pillows leaves you feeling as if you're being hugged by him. He's all you can smell, as if he's right there next to you, and maybe that's why you fell asleep so easily.

The next morning you wake up to the scent of pancakes, making your way to the kitchen you see a shirtless Carlos moving around. He doesn’t notice straight away, so you take the time to appreciate his physique. You know he’s fit, he’s an F1 driver for goodness sake. Seeing him there in front of you, with no fireproofs or anything is another things. His shoulders, strong arms, thick neck and chest down to his abs and then the v line leading into his pants, it all got you feeling hot.

”Morning.” You eventually manage to say and walk closer to see what he’s doing and not stare him to death.

”Good morning, did you sleep well?” Carlos asked turning to look at you.

”Yeah, slept like a baby.” You tell the taller man, rounding the counter to see if there’s anything. you can do to help. “Do you need help with anything?”

”No, I got it, almost done.” Carlos says and waves you to the other side of the counter to sit on one of the island chairs. “Have you seen your phone yet today?”

”No, it died, I need to charge it.” You tell him. “Why? Is the internet on fire yet?”

”Just about, best not check your social media or maybe restrict your comments for a while.” Carlos doesn’t meet your eye, which has you chuckling, he looks at you confused.

”I won’t be doing any of that, I don’t care, it doesn't matter how real our relationship is, no one has a right to say anything about who you're with.” You say and thank him for the food he placed in front of you.

“Still I don’t want you to be subjected to any of that.” You shrug and take a bite of the fluffy pancakes.

“These are so good.” You tell the diver and take another bite, Carlos is proud of himself, he loves cooking and what he loves more is cooking for other people.

“Eat as much as you want.”

”Oh, I will.”

You don’t log onto your social media until you’re back i your home with Lisa, she’s been telling you what people have been saying about you and you’ve both have been laughing about it.

”There’s a lot of baby trapping allegations going around.” Lisa says and you look over her shoulder and scoff.

”As if I’ll ever do that.” You say before you suddenly get an idea. “I have an idea.”

“Ohh, talk dirty to me.” Lisa of course was all for it, she raided your skin care drawer, getting face masks for you both to put on. You get a Ferrari wine bottle out and you both head to the bathroom, putting on the face masks before you pose in front of the mirror with the bottle clearly opened.

”beating the allegations one at a time.” Lisa says as she looks over the picture you take a sip of the wine. “I love this for us.”

In the months after the engagement a lot has happened, you’ve made more appearances at the paddock always with the ring on your finger. Lisa always came with or Anna and you’d spend the night with one of them, keeping the appearance that you're staying with Carlos to everyone else. The fans have been in uproar about everything for a couple months, but things have calmed down, Lisa and you have found ways to always prove the rumors wrong. And maybe Lisa had other reasons to attend races now, that didn't have to do anything with you.

Meanwhile wedding plans have commenced, the parents decided on a winter wedding in Spain, it'll be at the beginning of Carlos's winter break, you left everything for the Sainzs to plan with the help of your family, the only thing you refused is them choosing your wedding dress, or even seeing it. You've been to so many wedding dresses shops, which ever country you find yourself in you'd go to the shops. You've tried on so many dresses in so many styles. Trying to find the perfect one for you.

It took time but you did find the one, standing in front of the mirror alone. You felt it. You may have not given much thought to your wedding before you knew about the arrangement but this is your dream dress. It was just perfect. Everything you wanted and more. It needed little alterations, you just need to do a couple fittings, which you will fly to do before it'll be delivered to Carlos's house in Spain.

Things with Carlos have remained the same, you didn't spend a lot of time alone, which may be in part to you always dragging someone with you, even Lando has accompanied you both on a couple occasions, the Briton has warmed up to you and was one of the few invited to the wedding. You always trash talk your parents with Lando, Carlos always looking disappointed at the two of you whenever you did that, but you did it anyways.

It all went by too fast, it was the day of your wedding, despite the winter air, the sun was out it was a little warmer than most of Europe. You tried on your dress a couple of weeks back at Carlos's house and from the gasps his sisters and Lisa had done, he almost barged in to see the dress for himself. It did take a lot for him to not go into the guest bedroom where you kept it for him to see. He told himself he'll see it soon enough.

And soon became very soon, when he stood in his tux at the end of the alter, no groomsmen, no bridesmaids. A choice you fought your mum on, but in the end you had what you wanted. You had no one but Lisa, and even if Carlos had many friends he could choose form, he respected every decision you made and choose for the wedding.

The music started playing and everyone turned to look and there you were, an angle, lights coming from behind you illuminating you. Oh how beautiful you looked, with a simple make-up look, hair up in a beautiful updo, minimal jewelry all to accentuate the beauty of your dress. The lace, the vale, how the dress hugged your figure, it was all perfect. Soft gasps sounded around the hall as you became in full view.

A soft but timid smile on your face, your hand clutching your dad's as he led you down the aisle, it was all happening now, there's no going back. This is it. You saw Carlos and he looked amazing in his tux, his hair pushed back but not jelled, he definitely refused any products be put in his hair. He looked handsome, his eyes were on you the whole walk and even after you were standing in front of him, he still didn't stray his gaze from you. You're all he can see.

The ceremony goes by, and your smile falters when you have to say I do. You looked up at Carlos with tear filled eyes, as he leaned in and pecked your lips, it only lasted a couple seconds, as everyone clapped and cheered, well almost everyone. Both your friends that knew how you both didn't want to, only clapped halfheartedly.

Carlos pulled you in for a hug, you returned it closing your eyes to keep the tears at bay.

"I promise I'll be good to you, and I'll be loyal." Carlos whispered in your ear and you clutched his suit harder. "I know how hard this is for you, and I'll try to be a good husband to be everything you ever wished for, I don't want you to feel stuck and unhappy."

"Thank you, I promise I'll do the same, we're in this together." You were grateful for his words, he's said it in a way that made you feel heard and felt, something that your family failed to make you feel.

The reception was wild, if you say so yourself, you changed into another dress with no train and easier to move around in. You had a first dance with Carlos, you were surprised with how good he is at dancing.

"Didn't know you could dance so well." You told him after he twirled you around and then pulled you back in.

"I'm a smooth operator after all." You giggle at his words and that makes him smile, he's succeeded in getting a smile out of you that was genuine. Lando and Lisa were watching the two of you from their table.

"You know, this may have all been a bad agreement, but I think they'll be alright." Lando told Lisa and she hummed looking at you both.

"Yeah, I think so, bad beginning but good ending." She only hoped. "You know what I think?"

"What?" Lando looked away form his friend and his new wife, and at Lisa.

"I think if the parents hadn't arranged this whole thing, they would've been dating for a long time and that they would've ended together anyways." Lisa observed and Lando thought about it for a moment, before he too agreed with her. If only they did nothing.

The celebration went through the night, a lot of dancing and drinking happening all around. Too much had happened but it didn't seem that long before you and Carlos got in the back of a car heading for his house where you'd be spending the night before heading to your honeymoon. You were so tired from the day and you haven't been sleeping well the days leading up to the wedding.

"You look tired." Carlos said in the nicest tone ever, you turn your head over the headrest not even wanting to left your own head, and look at him with the most tired smile he has ever seen.

"Yeah, I haven't been sleeping well, and the day has been so long." You tell him and he agrees with you.

Once you're at the house you open the door and there's Carlos already on your side with his hand out to help you out of the car. You walk into his house and kick your heels off sighing at the feeling, finally having them flat on the ground.

"You wear heels way too much." Carlos says seeing how relieved you look with them off.

"Excuse me, Mr. 178 cm, but not all of us are blessed with height." You say and take the glass of water

Carlos had for you. "Thank you."

"No worries." You both stand there in the kitchen for a couple minutes. "I think we should head to bed, we're leaving in a few hours."

"Yeah, good idea."

You went to the guest bedroom, where you had your clothes and everything set up. A suite case set to the side for the honeymoon.

Now you were zipped in your dress by Lisa, what you didn't take in mind is how hard it is to unzip it yourself. Try as you can, you couldn't unzip the first part. It took you 15 minutes to finally decide to go and ask Carlos for help. You stand in front of his bedroom door and debate knowing before you do it, you can't sleep in your dress and you're in a desperate need of a shower. You don't wait long before the door is opened and a naked Carlos with a towel wrapped around his lower half meets your eyes. Your eyes trail over his still wet torso all the way to his face where water drops from his hair.

"Is everything okay, hermosa?" Carlos asks feeling happy with your eyes on him.

"Uh-wh-yeah, yes." You manage together yourself to ask. "I can't unzip my uh, my dress, I need help."

"Just give me a second to wear some pants." Carlos gets into his closet and closes that door, you walk in

a little and look at yourself in the full length mirror he has in his room, your makeup has lasted the whole day, but you can start to see the dark circles under them, you can't help but take in your look, your hair no longer in an updo, it's loose around your head.

Carlos opens the door and comes out in a pair of shorts, you glance at him through the mirror and he walks right up behind you. He gently moves your hair to the side over your shoulder, you're playing with your fingers a little, as the tension rose in the room. As delicate as he could, Carlos took a hold of the small zipper and pulled down. You held your breath as you watched his focused face, he was looking at your skin as more of it came in view, drinking you in. After he's done, his hands fall by his side and he meets your eyes in the mirror.

"All done." He breathed out, you nod and say a timid thank you before you leave the room, his eyes not leaving your back. Closing the door behind you, you lean on it for a second breathing in. Before you head back to your room.

You manage to get a few hours of sleep, before you have to get up to get ready to head to the airport.

Your dad gave you a jet as a wedding present, something you rolled your eyes at when he did, but you're thankful for now, the privacy is something you're grateful for. You're dressed in a white sweat set with the hood up covering your hair and part of your face, no make-up on and nothing done to your hair.

You made small talk with Carlos during the plane, talking about your wedding and how stupid some people were, the dresses some women wore and just gossiping. There was something so domestic about it, you and Carlos interact like any friends would... mostly. Because for you, you've come to enjoy his company, you've come to look for him in a crowed. He gives you the best hugs, and he's always so attentive to your wants and needs before you even verbalise them. In the few months you've gotten to know each other he's understood you in a way no one else did.

Arriving in the Bali, there’s a car waiting for you at the airport, the pick up and drop off were good. Carlos was the one responsible for booking the honeymoon, so besides the destination you have no idea what you will be doing. The resort has a few cabins out on the water, and that’s what Carlos booked for the two of you. He quickly handles check in and gets the keys, before you’re lead to the cabin with someone brining the bags for you.

Carlos opens the door, you see the water out the windows, the cabin is in the middle of the clear water, and there are windows all around the back. It looked like you’d be sleeping in the middle of the sea. You walk straight to the back opening the floor to ceiling glass door to the terrace.

“This looks amazing.” You tell Carlos and a gust of wind comes over you and you smile.

“I’m glad you like it.” It was hard for Carlos to choose a destination, his mum insisted that you two go on a honeymoon, she said it’ll do you some good, you wouldn’t be able to escape from each other so you’ll get to know the other person well. She said it’ll be a good start to the marriage. “There’s only one problem.”

”What?” You ask and turn to look at Carlos and see where he’s looking. “Oh.” There’s one bed. ”It’s alright I guess, we’re not strangers.” You weren’t confident in your words but there’s nothing you can do now.

”I guess, I don’t have anything planned for today.” Carlos tells you and takes a broader look at the cabin. “Thought we might be tired, we can go explore or get into the water.”

”Exploring sounds fun, we can get in the water early tomorrow or something.”

You both change from the airport clothes, into something you’d be comfortable to walk in, so no heels for you.

The island sounded and looked so peaceful, you really commend Carlos on his choice. Your phone was out as you snapped pictures of the lovely scenes, the animals moving in the trees once you reached the forested area of the island you’re in. You managed to find a small restaurant to have a late lunch in.

”When do you have to start dieting and working out for the next season?” You asked Carlos curiously.

”I keep training through the break, but it gets intense two weeks or so before the season starts.” Carlos says and you nod, taking a bite of your food.

”That’s good, what do you have planned for the next four days?” You ask curious.

”We’re going snorkelling tomorrow, and we can go for a swim in some waterfalls.” Carlos starts listing the things he’s planned out for you both to do. “The next day we can go surfing and diving, third day we can go nicking and there’s a hot air balloon we can take, the fourth day we can cycle through the rice fields and around the island, and there’s a lot of clubs we can go to any day once it’s dark.”

”Sounds like fun.” You say and close your eyes relaxing for a moment.

After lunch you and Carlos continue on your little exploration trip before you decide to head back to the cabin. Carlos calls dibs on showering first, so you face the plant on the bed and before you realise it you’re asleep.

Carlos comes out of the bathroom and chuckles once he sees the state you’re in, you’re laying across the bed, your feet in the air, you look so out of it. Carlos looks for an extra blanket and sets it aside, before he moves to the bed and contemplates how to move you without waking you up. He didn’t have to worry though, you were so tired you didn’t feel him moving you so you’d be lying on the bed right, with your head on the pillow before he threw the blanket on top of you.

It takes you around an hour before you wake up, it takes you a second to realise where you are, sitting up you see the last rays of the sun in the distance, and Carlos sitting on the terrace with his legs hanging down touching the water. His back facing you. You get up and make your way to him. You sit beside him and give him a sleepy smile.

”Why didn’t you wake me?” You ask him taking the breathtaking view in front of you.

”It looked like you needed all the sleep you could get.” Carlos hummed, you sat there in silence, both not knowing what to say. “You want to shower before we head out for dinner?”

”Yeah, I’ll go now.”

Dinner had been a delightful yet slightly awkward affair. The resort's open-air restaurant overlooked the ocean, offering a stunning view that momentarily distracted them from their nerves. They had chosen a table near the edge, where they could watch the waves crash against the shore. The food was good and they both had a few glasses of alcohol. The walk back was peaceful with the night air, the wind and the distant sound of the waves crashing.

You and Carlos stood in the doorway to the cabin. The sound of the ocean created a soothing background melody. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. you glanced at Carlos, who seemed just as hesitant as she felt. You had been through a whirlwind of events that led you here, to your honeymoon in Bali, sharing a bed for the first time.

“Well, I guess this is it,” You said, your voice tinged with nervousness. “Our first night here.”

Carlos looked at you, then at the bed that dominated the centre of the room.

“Yeah, it is. Bali is beautiful, isn’t it?” You allowed yourself a small smile.

“It really is. I’ve always wanted to come here.”

“Same here,” Carlos replied, trying to ease the tension. “I never thought it would be on a honeymoon, though.”

You laughed softly, a sound that made Carlos’s heart feel lighter.

“Yeah, life has a way of surprising us.” Carlos glanced at the bed again, then back at you.

“So, um, the bed. It’s... big enough, right?”

You blushed slightly, your cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink. “Yeah, it looks comfortable. I guess we can... just stay on our own sides?”

“Sure, that sounds good.” Carlos nodded. “I mean, unless you’d want to have it and I can sleep on the floor, I don’t mind.”

”No, no, we’re adults, we can share a bed.” You say shaking your head no. “Can’t let the Formula 1 driver have back pain.”

”A few nights wouldn't hurt me.” You give Carlos a look and he laughs. “But I’ll happily sleep on the bed.”

“So much has happened in the last few months.” You say and sit on the edge of the bed, despite telling him it’s okay to sleep in the same bed, you still feel awkward about it. “We’ve come a long way in these few months.”

“Yeah, we have.” Carlos joined you, sitting down next to you on the bed. “I’ve enjoyed our conversations and... your company.”

“Me too.” You smile, a genuine warmth in your eyes. “You’re not as bad as I thought you’d be.”

“High praise!” Carlos laughed, a sound that made you feel more at ease, as he’s grown to make you feel lately. Peaceful. Comfortable. “Seriously, though, I think we’ve done well considering the circumstances.”

Emma looked at him, her expression softening. “Carlos, do you... ever think about what it would be like if we had met differently?”

“Sometimes.” It takes Carlos a moment to answer as he thinks about it. “I think we would have been good friends regardless. Maybe even more, given time.”

“Maybe,” You said softly, also thinking that if you were given the option and the freedom things may have turned the same in the end.

Carlos sighed, breaking the brief silence that had settled between them.

“Well, we’re here now. Might as well make the best of it. Do you need anything before we turn in?”

“No, I’m good. Just... a bit nervous.” You shook you head.

“Me too,” Carlos admitted, his voice gentle. “But hey, it’s just a few nights. We’ll figure it out together.”

You smiled, a feeling of comfort washing over her. “Together. That sounds nice.”

Carlos stood up and walked to his side of the bed. “Goodnight, Hermosa.”

“Goodnight, Carlos,” You replied, getting under the covers. You both lay down, the silence filled with the rhythmic sound of the waves. After a few moments, Yout voice broke the quiet.

“Carlos?”

“Yeah?” Carlos turned to face her, his eyes soft in the dim light.

“Thanks for being understanding. It means a lot,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper, it was something you had to say, you had to put out.

Carlos smiled, a reassuring warmth in his gaze. “Anytime, y/n. We’re in this together, remember?”

You relaxed, the tension easing from your body. “Right. Together.”

You both lay quietly, gradually relaxing into the comfort of the bed and each other's presence. The initial awkwardness began to fade, as the sense of connection they’ve built over the last few months replaced it.

And so the honeymoon came and went. Each day you’d be out all day doing what Carlos had planned for the two of you before you go to the beach, a club, but you’d just fill the day with activities. When it came to the bed situation, besides the first day there was no awkwardness. Maybe it was the tiredness but you’ve found it so much easier to sleep next to Carlos every day. And every day you’d wake up a bit closer, finding comfort in his presence.

The first rays of dawn filtered through the sheer curtains of their bungalow, casting a soft, golden light across the room. The gentle sound of the ocean waves provided a calming backdrop, as if nature itself were cradling them in a tranquil embrace.

You stirred first, your consciousness slowly pulling you from the depths of a peaceful sleep. As your eyes fluttered open, you became aware of a warmth pressed against your back. It took you a moment to realise that Carlos’ arm was draped over your waist, their bodies nestled closely together. Your initial reaction was a mix of surprise and confusion, quickly followed by a strange sense of comfort.

You lay still, your mind racing. Over the past few days, sharing a bed has gradually become less awkward. You had grown accustomed to each other's presence, finding solace in your nightly routine. But this was different—intimate in a way that left your heart fluttering.

You turned your head slightly, careful not to wake Carlos. You could feel his steady breath against the back of your neck, his presence reassuring and oddly soothing. For a moment, you allowed herself to relax into his embrace, savouring the unexpected closeness.

Carlos began to stir, his grip on your waist tightening momentarily before his eyes opened. Realising the position you’re in, he blinked in surprise but didn’t pull away. Instead, he hesitated, unsure of how to proceed.

“Good morning,” You whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Good morning,” Carlos replied, his voice still heavy with sleep. He moved slightly, his arm shifting but not withdrawing. “I, uh, didn’t mean to...”

You turn to face him, a shy smile playing on your lips. “It’s okay.”

Carlos’s expression softened, relief washing over him. You lay there for a moment, neither wanting to break the spell of the morning. The initial awkwardness gave way to a quiet understanding, a mutual acknowledgment of the growing bond between you.

“I guess we’ve gotten used to each other,” You said, your tone light but tinged with something deeper.

Carlos nodded, his eyes meeting yours. “I think so.”

Carlos’s hand moved to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. “So, what do you want to do before we have to leave?”

“How about we start with breakfast?”

“Sounds perfect,” Carlos said, smiling.

When your bags were packed and ready by the door, you decided to take one last walk on the beach. The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over everything. You walked in comfortable silence, your hands brushing occasionally, sending sparks of awareness through both of you. When you both found a good spot you stopped and turned to look at the ocean.

“I have to thank you Carlos.” You said softly and looked at him over your shoulder, he looked confused. “This …trip has been different than I expected.”

“Yeah, different.” Carlos nodded, his expression tinged with worry. “But in a good way, right?.”

You turned to look at him fully and he does the same. “Of course.”

There was a moment of silence, the air thick with anticipation. You were close, closer than you had ever been, conscious that is. Carlos reached out, his hand brushing against yours. Your faces were inches apart, your breaths mingling in the space between you. Carlos’s eyes flicked to your lips, and he leaned in, his heart pounding.

Your eyes fluttered closed, your pulse racing. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the electricity of the moment. It was as if the world had shrunk to just the two of you, the beach, and the waves.

Just as your lips were about to meet, the sudden sound of a ringing phone shattered the silence. You both jerked back, startled, and Carlos fumbled to answer his phone. It was the resort’s reception, calling to remind them of their checkout time.

Once Carlos told you, you couldn’t help but laugh, the tension breaking. You head back in silence. The moment had passed, but something had shifted between you. There was an unspoken understanding, a promise of something more, maybe not now, or soon, but one day.

Once you were back in Spain, you had gotten busy. You were still technically in the middle of moving, you had to fly a few times back and forth to finish getting whatever you needed and getting rid of everything else. You’re officially an online student, with just a few mandatory classes once or twice a term that you have to go in for. Lisa was crying on the last trip, but knowing the two of you, you’d just fly to see her or she’ll fly to see you. Besides since her and Lando started dating it means that if all goes well, you’d be seeing more of her in the paddock.

Your mum decided that she hasn’t heard form you enough so she flies to Spain and comes to your house one random day, Carlos is out golfing with Lando who he invited over for the week, the McLaren driver was staying with the two of you. You planned to use the time to catch up on some unpacking you still have to do, it’s taking you longer than you expected. And you still have to work with Carlos’s things as well. And you just began, since Carlos and Lando didn’t leave until recently before the doorbell rang.

You opened the door to find your mother standing there, her expression as critical as ever.

“Hi, Mom.” You said, forcing a smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Y/n.” Your mother greeted, ignoring your question, she stepped inside and immediately surveyed the house. “Where are Carlos and Lando? I hope you’ve been taking care of them.”

“They’re out golfing, Mom.” Your smile falters, before it falls. ”I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me you were coming?” You ask her again as you watch her look around the house, no doubt looking for something to critique you over.

”You wouldn't have answered.” She tries to excuse herself, you frown.

”I always reply to your messages.” You feel exasperated already, and she’s been here for all of 10 minutes.

”What are you cooking today?” Your eyebrows raise at the question, it takes you a moment to answer.

”Nothing? Carlos is cooking for us tonight.” You tell her and turn to leave her to inspect the kitchen.

“And does Carlos usually cook?” You have no idea where she’s going with those questions so you answer her honestly.

”Well, out of the two of us he cooks more, but don’t worry I always help.” You blob down on the sofa.

“Why is it so messy here?” She asks, coming to the living room, looking over the few boxes still set to the side waiting to be unpacked, the blankets you have sat in the living room used by you three yesterday as you watched a movie after a long day yesterday.

“The house isn’t messy. I’ve just been busy, and I haven’t finished unpacking.”

“Busy? What about cooking and cleaning?” Your mum’s eyes narrowed. “A good wife takes care of her home and her husband’s friends. It’s your responsibility, y/n.”

“Mom, it’s not the 1950s.” You felt your frustration rising. “Carlos and I share responsibilities. He’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and Lando is our guest, not my responsibility.”

“y/n y/l/n! I don’t know where I went wrong with you, I did not raise you to be this kind of wife!” Your mum scoffed, shaking her head. You look up at her startled, where the heck did this come from. “A wife should always put her husband first. Look at this place! And you didn’t even cook anything for them? Carlos is working so hard year around, the least you could is cook him meals and take care of him, what man would like a woman that doesn’t take care of him and his friends.”

“I don’t need to cook for them every day, Mom. Carlos and I are a team. We support each other.” You clenched your fists, trying to keep your composure. “And they're grown adults as well, they’ve lived alone for years.”

Your mother ignored you, continuing to inspect the house and muttering under her breath about your lack of domestic skills. The barrage of criticism was relentless, each comment cutting deeper. You tried to defend yourself, but the words stuck in your throat, overwhelmed by your mother’s disapproval.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. “I need some air,” you said abruptly, storming to your room. You quickly changed into a golf skirt and a polo shirt, grabbed your clubs(a gift from Carlos, that you have yet to use), and headed out the door.

Your mother’s voice followed you, laden with disappointment. “Running away doesn’t solve anything, y/n!”

“It’s y/n Sainz by the way! We don’t share the last name anymore.” Was all you said ignoring the sting of her words, You drove to the golf course.

You found Carlos and Lando on the ninth hole, chatting and laughing as they waited their turn. The sight of their relaxed camaraderie only fueled your frustration. Carlos noticed you approaching, surprise evident on his face.

“y/n? What are you doing here?”

You didn’t answer right away, instead setting up your club and taking a swing at the ball. It flew farther than you expected, the physical exertion providing a small relief to your pent-up anger. Lando raised an eyebrow but wisely kept quiet. Carlos walked over to her, concern in his eyes.

“y/n, what happened?”

“My mom happened.” You take a deep breath, trying to steady your vice. “She came over and started berating me for not taking care of the house and you two. Said a lot of misogynistic things. I couldn’t deal with it, so I came here.”

Carlos exchanged a glance with Lando, who nodded in understanding and took a few steps back to give you some privacy. “y/n, I’m sorry. She had no right to say those things.”

“I know that, Carlos.” You felt your frustration bubbling over. “But it’s just so exhausting. I feel like I’m constantly trying to prove myself, and nothing I do is ever good enough for her.”

Carlos stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “

You don’t have to prove anything to her. You’re amazing just the way you are. We’re a team, remember?”

“I just needed to get out and clear my head.” You nod, leaning into his embrace. “Thanks for letting me crash your golf game.”

“Anytime.” Carlos smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Why don’t you join us? Maybe hitting a few more balls will help.”

“Yeah, y/n. Show us what you’ve got.” Lando, who had been listening from a respectful distance, chimed in.

You manage a small smile, appreciating their support. You took another swing, feeling a little lighter with each hit. The repetitive motion and the open air helped to calm your nerves. As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the course, you felt the weight of your mother’s words slowly lifting.

After a few more swings and a lot of supportive banter from Carlos and Lando, you began to feel more like yourself. You knew the challenges with your mother wouldn’t disappear overnight, but having Carlos by your side made it easier to face them.

As you finished the game and headed back to the clubhouse, CArlos took your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“We’ll figure this out, y/n. Together.”

“I know we will. Thanks for being my rock.” You looked up at him, your heart swelling with gratitude and affection.

“Always.” Carlos smiled, his eyes full of warmth.

As you walked back to the car, the events of the day began to fade into the background, replaced by a sense of peace and solidarity. You knew that with Carlos by your side, you could handle whatever challenges came your way. And maybe, just maybe, one day you would find a way to make your mother understand.

The new Formula 1 season begins, and it’s a good start for Ferrari, they’ve been doing good. The testing and the first race already over and a big improvement from last year is already noticed. By the time Saudi Arabia came around, no one had noticed or pointed out the new ring on Carlos’s finger. Or yours for that matter. Your marriage, although not a secret, wasn't announced.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” You ask Carlos, he’s been in pain the last couple of days, he had a fever and wasn’t looking too good.

”Yes, don’t worry.” Carlos was trying to calm your nerves but it wasn’t helping in this situation.

“FP1 has already been hard, Carlos, I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard!” You say and follow him out of his driver’s room and to the garage, a worried look on your face for everyone to see.

”I won't, I promise.” You stop at where you can’t go any further and Carlos turns to look at you, his balaclava in his hands. You look so cute worried for him, eyes wide and sat expression on your face, lips turned down slightly and pouting. “Please, amour I promise I’ll be fine.”

You don’t get to realise how he called you amour for the first time, before his lips are pressed to yours in a quick kiss and he’s turned and heading to get his helmet on. You just blink and look at him, but he doesn’t look your way in the slightest.

“What just happened?” You whisper to yourself.

“I believe your husband just kissed you.” Carlos sr., who came out of nowhere said in your ear. You spare him a look and just turn and go to the nearest bathroom, having to splash some water on your face to calm the heat down.

You manage to compose yourself for the rest of Free Practice, as you watch Carlos put in the times, listening to his team radio, you could tell he was getting a bit tired. But they were looking at his vitals and they seemed okay, he wasn’t called in either so that calmed you a little. After the practice however, you saw him come out of the car, and he looked as if he was struggling a little.

He takes off his helmet and balaclava and his face is flushed red, Free Practices are hard, but they’re not as hard as a race is, so why is his face flushed more than normal.

“He’s fine, don’t worry.” Carlos sr. tells you and you aren’t convinced, he doesn’t sound like he’s convinced.

There was nothing you could do, but walk around as Carlos had to head in for debrief. You skipped lunch in favour of staying with Carlos earlier today, so you decided to grab a bite before you head back to the Ferrari garage.

Your phone rings a while later, seeing Carlos sr.’s name on your screen you pick up.

”Hey, I’m just-“

”It was bad, we’re taking Carlos to the hospital.” He cuts you off rushing.

“What? What happened? Just tell me which hospital!” You leave your half eaten food and rush back to Ferrari, where someone on Carlos’s team was waiting to take you to the hospital. Your knee was bouncing up and down in worry, you couldn’t get there fast enough.

By the time you go there, Carlos is already in for surgery. Carlos sr. pulls you in for a hug as you tear up. “He’s okay, a minor surgery, it’s his appendicitis.”

”I told him something was wrong, but he didn't listen.” You cry as worry eats you up, you’ve just come to realise how much Carlos actually means to you. He’s become such an important part of your life and you didn’t even realise it. Hearing that he was taken to the hospital, made your mind race with possibilities you don't want to think about.

”I didn’t know you cared so much about my son.” Carlos says after you’ve calmed down, you’re both sitting down waiting for the surgery to end.

“I didn’t either.” You say and sigh, Carlos sr. pats your knee in comfort.

Once the surgery ends and the doctors come out, they tell you that everything went smoothly and it won’t take long for Carlos to wake up, and he was moved to another floor. Both you and Senior along with Carlos’s trainer.

“I’m sorry, but for the next hour or so, only family members are allowed.” A nurse stops you three from walking into Carlos’s room. Both you and Carlos’s dad move to enter before you’re stopped again, she gives you a pointed look.

”I’m family.” You tell her, but she doesn’t budge.

”She’s family.”

”I’m sorry, but dating or even engagement doesn’t count.” You scoff and get your passport out, all your papers have been changed after the wedding.

”I’m y/n Sainz, that man inside is my husband, now step aside.” She stands there shocked before she lets you pass. Carlos sr. laughs and follows you inside.

“Hey, Mrs Sainz.” Once more Carlos leaves your heart beating faster than it should, with your face red. He clearly heard what happened outside, and he’s clearly heavy on pain meds.

“You’re an asshole, Carlos Sainz.” You mutter and sit down at the chair next to his bed, apparently you’re super funny, because he laughs as if you said the funniest joke ever. “I don’t get your son sometimes.”

”Me neither.”

It takes a few hours for Carlos to be completely coherent, they’ll keep him overnight to make sure he’s alright before he can leave. With only one person that can stay the night and Carlos Sr. needing to stay next to his only son, you let him stay and head back to the hotel with Carlos’s trainer, with the promise of being back early the next day.

Sleeping in the bed alone feels weird now, after the honeymoon you’ve gone back to sleeping alone, and you’ve missed having Carlos next to you. But since you’ve started trailing again, you’ve shared the same bed. How weird it is for you to miss his presence so much after so little time.

After a sleepless night you get Carlos a change of clothes before you head to the hotel. When you walk into his room, he’s alone.

”Where’s your dad?” You ask him, placing the bag on the chair.

”Went to get some coffee.” You nod at his words, you stand there for a moment and Carlos pats the side to the bed, you sit next to him and sigh.

”You really scared me, Carlos.” Your voice lowered, tinged with sadness.

“I’m so sorry, mi amor.” Your eyes trail up until you meet his eyes, Carlos takes your hand in his. “I thought it was just food poisoning.”

“What are you doing to me?” You ask him your voice filled with emotion, your eyes filled with tears, as all the frustrations, the worry and the love you have for him is just too much for you to handle.

”Wh-what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Carlos sits up slowly, and he’s so close to you, just like he was on that day on the beach.

“You know you kissed me, right?” WAs it the fever, did he not mean it.

”Yea, I’m sorry, if this is why you’re crying I’ll never kiss you aga-“

”No!” You almost shout startling the man in front of you, tears leaver your eyes and you close them for a moment.

”No?” His accent is thick and it leaves you shivering.

”I want you to kiss me.” You open your eyes lips trembling and your eyes meet his. “Don’t you understand? I don’t know when, or how. Carlos sleeping without yesterday kept me up all night. I've become so used to you, I’ve become so attached to you without even realising it. Carlos I love you and I’m scared that you don’t love me, that you don’t feel the same. That thought terrifies me.”

Carlos sits in silence and you think that maybe he was just being nice, he didn’t mean it. It was definitely the fever. You go to stand up, but his hand that still held yours stop you. You look from your hands to his face once more.

”If I had known this is how you felt, mi amor, I would’ve kissed you sooner, would’ve slept next to you every night.” Carlos’s voice is soft, it’s so soft and loving. “I would’ve wished to get sick sooner.”

”Don’t say that!” You punch his shoulder so softly he couldn’t help but smile, Carlos lets go of your hand, only to cup your face in his hands.

”I love you so much y/n Sainz, and I’m so glad that fate brought us together.” Carlos leans closer, his words whispered on your lips. “You’ve made me so much happier than I thought possible.”

With that Carlos closes the distance between your lips, your eyes flutter shut. As you finally feel his lips on yours, electricity runs through your body. Once Carlos got a taste of your lips, he wanted more, he needed more.

“Carlos-“

You both pull apart and look at the door where Carlos Sr. stood with a grin on his face, looking amused.

”You can leave it to the hotel room, this is a hospital.” He’s joking, but no one else was laughing. Your face was so red and you were so embarrassed by being caught kissing… your husband? Why are you embarrassed? He’s your husband. The thought makes you smile to yourself as you go through the bag and show Carlos what you got for him.

Walking in the paddock the next day wasn’t on your agenda, you did try to convince your husband to just rest but he just wouldn't listen. You walk in hand in hand, and it seemed like the nurse at the hospital let it slip to everyone as it seemed like the news of your marriage was laced with the news of the surgery and all over social media. Carlos the cheeky bastard used his left hand for everything that didn’t require the usage of his right hand, showing everyone his wedding band. You had a Carlos Sainz hat on your head, finally with his number and everything.

”Looks like the news is out, Mr and Mrs Sainz.” Lando says once he came over to check on Carlos.

”Looks like it.” Carlos says and pulls you closer to his side, you look up at him and smile.

”I feel like I owe Lisa some money.” Your head snaps to Lando’s.

”You bet on us?”

“Of course.”

“How much?”

”I can’t tell you that?”

”Lando, how much?”

”I promised Lisa I wouldn't say.”

”She’s my friend.”

”Well, she’s my girlfriend.”

”You’re stealing her from me!”

”You stole my friend first!”

”Is this payback?”

”Are you sure they’re on good terms?” Carlos Sr, asked his son seeing how his daughter in law is bickering with the McLaren driver.

”I promise you they do.”

Taglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life

2K notes · View notes

seokgyuu · 25 days ago

Text

Running a little witch store in a small town, recently the only exciting thing has been Jake visiting your store every other day. While he doesn’t buy anything, his looks are enough to make your days a little less boring. And when he comes in one day, mixing up his offered tea with a very, very powerful aphrodisiac… it is about to get a lot more than just a little less boring.

Pairing: Neighbor!Jake x Witch!Reader Genre: Porn with almost no plot, Supernatural (as reader is a witch, duh) Warnings: Jake is a bit of an idiot but hot, reader is very sarcastic… are those even warnings? Reader has female anatomy and is described as a woman, pure filth basically, MINORS DNI!!! Smut tags under the cut Word Count: 6k A/N: Well hello! Happy Halloween everyone! My little last minute Halloween Project is done! First up, thanks to @aaagustd for the AMAZING banner!!! And my lovely @heechwe for betaing! This work was very, highly, extremely inspired by a clears throat spicy audio that was uploaded literally last night. Could not stop imagining it to be Jake who this happens to… so here we are. The creator’s name is AugustInTheWinter, check out his Patreon or Reddit, I swear it is SO worth it if you’re into audios!! Anyway, thanks August for this inspo and thank you guys for reading! tagging my beloved @yvnempire because she's so excited about this hehe. Please leave comments and/or reblog, it would mean the absolute world! Wanna support me? Here's my Ko-Fi!

Smut Tags: Big dick!Jake, Jake starts nervous and a bit subby, but turns into a beast, handjob, blowjob, face-fucking, facial, p in v sex, unprotected sex (stay safe kids!!), multiple orgasms, loads of cum (like really… so much), dirty talk, degradation (words used: whore, slut, hole, fucktoy etc.) cumplay, cum eating, tell me if i missed anything!

Everything about this town was boring.

The scenery was boring. The activities were boring. The people were boring.

Just… everything.

Your coven had sent you here because of the apparent magical aura you so, as they said, “desperately needed to achieve your full potential”. Bullshit, for all you cared. The magical aura might have been strong, but it was so deeply rooted into the earth, you had trouble reaching it even after hours of channeling your own powers. Of course, you didn’t tell them that. All they knew was that you were having a blast in this shithole of a town and had already made tons of friends.

So far no one had questioned your answers and so you just lived your life, hoping you would soon succeed in attaining the magical power of this place and go back to your normal life.

Recently, though, you at least had something a little less boring gracing you every other day. Jake Sim - the neighbor from across the street. He was handsome and a little shy and very obviously did not believe magic existed. Not that you cared much about that, no, you had been exposed to many people who didn’t believe in you and your kind, not to mention all the other supernatural beings walking on the face of earth.

Jake was a non-believer and wonderful to look at and you were fine with that. Content. More than happy.

As you were brewing some potions a few of the older women around town had ordered (while they also didn’t exactly believe in magic, they at least believed in your ability to brew things that were extremely efficient in their gardens), you found yourself thinking about the pretty man again. About his laugh and his eyes, about the way his shirt would rise up and show a bit of his happy trail leading down to something you could only wish to see fully exposed one day.

Truthfully, the last time you got laid had been ages ago. So long that you couldn’t even really remember who it was with and where. It was a curse, this town, and seeing a young attractive man stalking into your store a few weeks back had suddenly brought back the desire you had managed to suppress for who knows how long.

Just then, as you were deep in thought, cutting up some lavender, the door opened and the little bell above it rang, bringing you back to the present.

“Hi Y/N!”

Jake had his puppy smile on, hair blown out of his face and a thick coat hanging off his shoulders. He walked over to the counter and you smiled up at him, catching yourself finding his flushed cheeks extremely endearing.

“Jake, welcome. Anything I can do for you today or are just here for another chat about how magic can’t be real?” You tilted your head and gave him a playful smile that he answered with a little laugh.

“Actually, I did come for something today. Mrs. Bloodstean said you have some great tonics for flowers?”

Ah, yes, Mrs, Bloodstean, the woman three houses down who had trouble with her roses. You had helped her and now her roses bloomed all year round.

“I do indeed, Mr. Sim. What can I get for you?”

“Well, I’ve been having some troubles with my Mandevillas… they don’t seem to wanna bloom as much as, uh, I would like them to.”

His sheepish grin would have made your knees weak if you’d been standing. You nodded and got up, checking the shelves behind you for the potion he’d need to get his flowers to grow and bloom as much as he liked. Eyes roaming over the different bottles, you soon came to the realization you were out and clicked your tongue.

“Seems like I’ll have to brew one. That’s gonna take a couple minutes, do you want some tea while you wait?”

Jake nodded yes and smiled, turning around to do this usual routine through the rows of shelves in your store. From a safe distance, he began to watch you do your thing, cutting up ingredients and throwing them into a miniature cauldron Jake couldn’t help but be amused by. A witch store in the middle of this small town, run by one of the most attractive women Jake had ever laid his eyes on.

When he had first stumbled in here, he had mistaken it for an alternative medicine shop. While he wasn’t totally wrong, he also wasn’t fully correct. You did offer some remedies and lotions, some potions and tonics, but you also had crystals and salts and books in your many high rising wooden shelves. The first day, he had spent hours just browsing through the books, not thinking of actually buying anything, but somehow being immersed into this world of magic he was so sure could only exist in fiction.

He hadn’t even noticed someone working at the front behind the counter until he turned to leave, almost stumbling over his feet when he spotted you. You concentrated on a page in an old looking book, biting down onto your tongue that was slightly sticking out of your mouth. You with the prettiest face he had ever seen, that made it so hard to look away.

After that, he came back every other day, hoping to talk to you, get to know you and maybe ask you out on a date. Of course, he never did because if Jake was anything it was a coward. It didn’t matter that he somehow happened to be handsome, his charisma was in the trenches.

It was obvious he didn’t see the effect he had on you, which made it even more fun to have him around in your store. You could sense that this man did not have one indecent thought about you while in the store, even when you wore low cut shirts or skirts with slits almost as high as your hip. No, he was a good boy, a sweet boy. The contrast of the two of you was almost comical - you thinking about what it would be like to feel him, to taste him, to push him against a bookshelf and have your way with him and Jake just wanting to man up to ask you out.

Circling back to the front, Jake saw you hard at work and decided to fill his tea cup by himself, the steaming blue teapot on the right side of the counter. Smiling, he brought the cup to his lips and took a sip, his eyes widening at the sweet taste.

God, that’s delicious!

The hotness of the drink seemed to fade into the background as the taste spread on his tongue, so sweet and wonderful his eyes almost rolled back, the liquid making his whole body feel warm and fuzzy, and without even noticing he finished the whole cup in one go.

“Wow, that tea is amazing! What kind is it? I don’t think I’ve ever had it before.” Jake put the cup back down and beamed at you.

Blinking, you looked up at the brown-haired man, your mind a little slow at catching up with what Jake said.

“What do you mean?” You asked, brows furrowing slightly.

“The tea you made me, what kind is it?” He repeated, pointing at the teapot next to him.

Your eyes widened for a brief moment, then you slowly got up.

“How much did you drink of that?” You asked calmly.

“A whole cup, it’s like so, so good, how-,”

“A whole cup?!” The volume of your voice surprised both of you and Jake’s eyes widened in surprise, his mouth dropping open a little.

“Was that- was I not supposed to? I- I’m sorry, you seemed busy, so I just helped myself.”

You stayed silent for a few seconds. Watching Jake’s confused face, trying to read his thoughts. He had absolutely no idea what he just drank. But you did.

A grin found its way onto your lips, a grin so diabolical it made Jake’s stomach turn.

“That’s not your tea, Jakey,” you said, pointing at the teapot he drank from, “your tea is over here.”

Jake followed where your finger pointed next, a small black teapot standing to your left, all done with a cute little pink cup next to it. He blinked a few times.

“Then- then what is this?” He asked, nervousness beginning to spread through his body. Your grin deepened.

“Oh, that? That’s just the very, very powerful aphrodisiac for Mrs. Brown’s husband. See, he can’t really get it up anymore.”

Silence. Jake felt like the whole world had suddenly gone silent at your words. But then he remembered where he was, who you were and how incredibly unlikely it was that this really worked. So, he snorted.

“Right. An aphrodisiac in the form of tea, I’m sure that’s gonna work wonders with Mr. Brown.”

“Not just him, but you too, you know,” you began to walk around the counter, stopping when you reached the other side, leaning against it with crossed arms, “and you’re only supposed to drink one sip of it. You, dear Jakey, drank a whole fucking cup.”

Honestly, Jake still didn’t believe you. Or at least he thought he didn’t. But something about the way you looked at him almost made him falter. He laughed and shook his head.

“Come on, Y/N, I’m not an idiot. This obviously isn’t going to work, it’s a hoax, we all know it’s a hoax.”

“Is it though, Jake? Is it really a hoax?”

“What? Of course it is! Magic isn’t real, can’t be real, this tea surely won’t help Mr. Brown get an erection and I, my friend, more than anything, will not get aroused by some fake viag-,”

Oh shit. Jake couldn’t help the deep moan escaping his throat when he suddenly felt the hardest wave of pleasure hit his body. He almost dropped to his knees, his cock growing harder by the second, pressing against the seam of his jeans, making them uncomfortably tight.

“You won’t get aroused, Jake? Yes? Is that right?” You were having the time of your life. This was better than anything you could have ever predicted. By Mystra, how could you have forgotten about the tea for Mrs. Brown? And how lucky were you for Jake to mistake it as his own? You couldn’t believe your luck.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jake groaned now, his chest heaving and you tilted your head again, watching sweat form on the handsome man’s forehead. His pupils were blown and his face flushed and, fuck, did he look good.

“I would say the potion is kicking in. How does it feel?” You bit your lip, watching Jake struggle to find words for what was happening inside… and outside of him.

“I- well, oh fuck, it, uhm, it feels… it feels like, like I’ve never- like it’s so.. it’s so h-hard, you know?”

“Hm, I don’t think I do. Perhaps you can show me, just so I can check if it all looks normal?”

Jake’s cock twitched at that. You wanted to see? Check if it looked normal? Another moan made its way through his lips and it sounded so utterly pathetic you felt yourself drip into your panties.

“Wh- what do you mean “normal”? C-Could it look, like, n-not normal?” He was sweating. A part of him really wanted you to see, to check, to maybe even touch him, but another felt shy, didn’t want this to happen before taking you out to a nice dinner, maybe even a movie and-

Fuck, who was he kidding?

“I don’t know, that’s why I wanna check. Will you show me, Jakey?”

“F-fine, b-but only to check!” His cheeks were on fire at this point. His cheeks on fire and his cock hard as a rock, aching and throbbing and probably aggressively red at the tip.

That last prediction proved to be correct when he pulled down his pants and briefs at once, his cock springing free, standing harder and prouder than he had ever seen it. He whimpered at the sight.

And you? You almost fell to your knees, itching to touch him, to lick over the tip that was already leaking so, so miserably. Oh good lord. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip again and you swallowed hard, eyes glued to the huge cock Jake had been hiding from you.

“Is it- is it always this big?” You asked, not even looking into Jake’s face anymore.

“Well, n-not when it’s not, uhm, you know… h-hard.”

“So it’s this size even when no potion is involved?” You wanted to know.

“Y-yeah, that didn’t change.”

“Holy fuck,” you mumbled, your hand wanting to grab around him so badly, but you contained yourself.

“What- what can we do? Like is there an antidote? Can I- can I drink another potion? Or maybe there is, uhm, fuck, a spell or something?”

You chuckled.

“Now you believe in spells, Jakey? Funny timing,” finally, you raised your head to look at him again, “but no, there is no antidote. Like I said, it’s made to help get it up and given in a specific dose. But you, my dear, drank probably thrice as much as necessary.”

“So what does that mean? I- I can’t just go home like this!”

He was right about that. Everyone would see him sporting the largest boner known to mankind. And right now, you decided, this was only for your eyes.

“I think the best way to deal with it is to, frankly speaking, empty it.”

Stars seemed to dance around Jake’s head when you spoke, the image of you rubbing his cock, sucking on it or even bouncing on it to empty him of all his cum… he twitched aggressively.

“S-so, wh-what are you sug-suggesting?” His heart was speeding in chest and he was trying his hardest not to jump to conclusions.

Yet another devilish grin spread on your lips as you raised your hand and snapped your fingers, closing the blinds of the storefront window and locking the door all at once. In any other situation, Jake would have been freaked out, but right now all he could concentrate on was the way you pushed yourself off the counter and looked at him from head to, well, problem.

“I am suggesting, Jake, that it would only be right of me to help you out.”

Jake swallowed hard, glued to where he was standing, his cock still so unbelievably hard, still aching and throbbing and in desperate need of attention.

As you lowered yourself, knees soon hitting the wooden floor, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Do you want me to help you out?”

“God, yes, please.”

And there it was. All that you needed to finally bring your hand to his cock. He immediately moaned, head falling back as his hips moved forward, thrusting into your grip. You chuckled as you slowly began to move, bringing your thumb to his tip, gathering all of the already leaking precum to use as lubricant.

It already brought you immense pleasure, jerking him off. Staring up at him, seeing nothing but pure lust and desperation on his face. You were throbbing between your legs, wetness building up more every passing moment.

“Fuuuuuck, yeah, j-just like that, oh wow.”

Jake felt like he had never been touched like this before. Every bit of friction against his skin was like the first time. Every inch you touched with your hand was burning, sparkling with something he could only describe as magic. He couldn’t stop the desperate moans even if he tried, couldn’t stop his hips chasing your hand, thrusting into it like a mad man.

“Faster, please!” He cried out and you obeyed, speeding up your hand. Your eyes were glued to his cockhead then, watching how precum kept leaking, drips landing on your floor or the briefs that were hanging around his ankles with his jeans.

You worked your hand faster, having trouble closing it around his big shaft and finally adding the second, working him at double speed with his cockhead still peaking out.

God, how would he feel inside you?

Two hands around his cock and Jake could sense a first orgasm approaching. He thrusted his hips, fucking both of your hands, eyes rolled back into his skull, the pleasure completely taking over.

“Yeah, yeah, just like that, fuck, fuck, I am fucking your hands so good, shit!” He didn’t know where to put his energy, switching between moaning and whining and saying his incoherent thoughts out loud, feeling himself leak onto your hands. He wondered what you’d do when he came, if you’d just let him come right onto you or if you’d point it elsewhere.

“Feel good, Jakey? You look so hot, so, so good for me.” You stared up at him, batting your eyelashes and finally Jake looked down at you, his spit catching in his throat. You looked insane with his cock in your hands, your face wild and determined, a small grin on your lips that made his cock twitch once more. The whimper escaping him must have been the single most arousing thing you had ever heard.

“I’m gonna come, I’m s-so close,” he cried and you nodded, licking over your lips.

“Yeah, come for me, wanna see you come, Jakey.”

When he had said yes to you helping him out, he sure as hell had not expected dirty talk to be involved and, shit, was he happy it was. His mouth fell open wider, eyes glossy and focused on your face. He knew it was going to be a lot, knew he’s going to shoot the biggest load of his life onto you in a few heartbeats.

“C-Coming, oh- shit!”

When he came, he came. Cum spurted out his cock, and you didn’t even think about letting a drop go to waste. The first load landed on your neck and collarbones, dripped down your cleavage and over your breasts, the second you managed to catch with your tongue slurping it down like a five-star meal. The third landed on your cheeks and chin, some on your neck, joining his already left mark.

Jake truly couldn’t believe his eyes. You, the woman he had been thinking about asking out for weeks now, covered in and eating his cum. Another little bit of cum dribbled out his cock and you caught it perfectly with the tip of your tongue, causing Jake to groan desperately.

He was still so fucking hard. Still desperate for more.

“I need more, I’m still so hard, please.” His pleasing eyes and slightly trembling lips made the picture in front of you perfect. Jake, big cock full on display, still hard from the potion he had drank by pure accident, his first orgasm so powerful he had shot three loads onto you, was now begging you for more.

And you were more than eager to make every wish of his come true.

“Since you said please…,” you grinned, leaning forward, not giving a damn about the seed currently drying on your skin, and flicking your tongue against his tip, his hand almost immediately moving to grip the back of your head. “God, yes, yes, please take it into your mouth, fuck, please!”

His wish was your command.

Your lips closed around his tip, sucking on it just slightly, tongue gliding over his sensitive slit, tasting his bittersweet taste, wondering if maybe the potion had altered something about it. Next, you moved your head forward, taking more of him into your mouth, feeling the veins of his cock press against your tongue. A moan erupted through you, the arousal almost too much to bear at this point.

“Ohhhh, god, yes, take it, take it deeper, shit.” His hips moved, pushing more of him into your mouth. He seemed to vibrate, seemed to fit perfectly into your wet heat, tip hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag, spit dripping from his shaft down to the floor. Your hands grabbed the back of his thighs, steading yourself as he began to thrust down your throat.

“Holy fuck, that’s right, gag on my cock, gag on it, fuck.”

It must have been the potion speaking because he wasn’t usually this vocal. But then again, he had never had anyone take his cock down their throat as well as you were doing right now. Gagging and spitting and tearing up, but nothing in your face showed discomfort. No, you were thriving on this and Jake felt your arousal in the air, felt it mixing with his and he sped up his hips, both hands now holding your head in place as he let out the most beautiful moan you had ever heard.

He shoved you down his cock completely now, his balls hitting your chin as he fucked your mouth like it was the last thing he’d ever do. Drool mixed with his precum dribbled down your chin, tears began to stream down your face, your eyes rapidly blinking as you watched him lose all of his composure. You wished to keep this memory engraved into your brain for all of your life.

Jake was in a rush, in a complete trance, fucking down your throat, feeling your tongue against his shaft, your throat restricting around him, your gags and chokes turning him on even more. Somehow, with every thrust closer to his release, he felt the tension rise up more.

What the fuck even was in that potion?

It hit him then, his second orgasm, thrusts becoming sloppier, quicker, accompanied by desperate moans, whimpers and groans.

You managed to swallow it all, the load just as huge as during his first orgasm, shot after shot down your throat, your eyes growing wide while you sucked him dry, or at least attempted to.

“Swallow it all, yes, yes, fuck, come on, come on! Take it all, I know you want to, fuck!”

There was no control left in his body, the potions effect taking over completely.

He emptied his cock into your mouth and pulled out when he at least thought it was over, only for another wave to hit him and land on your skin again. He felt like an artist painting an already perfect canvas with his own visions.

“S-sorry, fuck,” He breathed hard, watching you slowly get up, your face wild and stained with his seed as well as your own tears. Your eyes were red, pupils blown and with every gaze you shared, he knew you wanted him as much as he wanted you. He swallowed and looked down, seeing his cock still hard, still throbbing and aching. Would this ever end?

“I need more, need more,” he mumbled, stumbling forward and grabbing your hips roughly. You moaned at his touch, your fingers gliding over your chest to pick up some of his cum and shove it into your mouth, sucking them clean. He swore under his breath.

“Do you want to fuck me, Jakey?” You asked then, voice sweet like honey, but body looking so breathtakingly filthy.

“Want to, need to, have to,” he replied, moving to lick some of his own cum off your neck. You moaned at that surprising action, pussy throbbing and dripping. Without another thought, you dipped forward, pressing your lips against his. He kissed you back right away, tongue shoving into your mouth and he could taste himself even more on your tongue. His hands ripped open the corset-dress you were wearing, freeing your tits from their prison and immediately moving to grab them.

You hopped onto the counter then, pulling him closer, legs hooking around his waist. He kissed you hungrily, tongue and teeth and spit and hotness all mixed together. You shoved his coat off his shoulders and opened the buttons of his shirt, but he stopped you.

“No time, need to be inside you now.” He basically growled, fingers simultaneously finding your panties and ripping them off of you just like he had your dress. You spread your legs further, ready for him, more ready than you had ever been.

Jake knew he had reached heaven right then. Grabbing his cock and bringing it to your drenched pussy, pushing into your awaiting entrance and feeling you grip him, pulling him closer. He cried out, whimpered into your ear and continued to suck on your skin, cleaning you off of his seed all while working to bottom out.

And when he was finally buried to the hilt, he only paused for a second to take it all in, before beginning to fuck into you at a brutal pace. Your fingers clawed into his shoulders, mouth dropping open as your head tipped back and high pitched moans crawled out of your throat over and over.

“So fucking tight, taking me so fucking well, such a dirty fucking slut.” Jake bit your neck and you cried out once more, your whole body shaking with pleasure as he continued to fuck you. There was nothing you could compare to what was happening right now. No one had ever fucked you as good, as hard and as fulfilling as Jake.

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better than this, Jake pulled out of you and grabbed your waist, heaving you off the counter only to spin your around and push you down onto it, your ass up in the air.

“Sorry, need to fuck you like this.”

Back in he went - full speed, full force. The counter shook under you and you gasped when he began to thrust. His cock dragged against your walls, split you open so beautifully it felt like you were going to burst. You threw your ass back at him, clawing at the edge of the counter, eyes falling shut as you let yourself enjoy the way he drilled into you.

There was a high chance Jake was going to grow addicted to this feeling. Never had he ever had sex as good as this and perhaps this was courtesy of the potion - or maybe it was just you. You with the perfect pussy, the perfect mouth, the perfect hands. Everything about you seemed to heighten his arousal, seemed to get him closer from the edge all while pushing him even further away from it.

He could do this for hours, fuck you until he came, spill his seed in you over and over, watch how it spilled out. God, he wanted to see your pussy stuffed with his cum so bad. Watching his cock slip in and out of you, hearing the noises you made, it was almost too much.

“You’re my perfect little hole, aren’t you? Just made to be fucked like this,” he couldn’t help himself, grabbing your hips even rougher and spitting down to make it even wetter. Not that that was really necessary. You were dripping down his cock as well as your own thighs and Jake swore he would never recover.

“Fuck, Jake!” You cried out, hip trying desperately to move while he held you, eyes opening only to roll back as your orgasm hit you like a brutal wave.

“Shit, are you gonna come on my cock, slut?” Jake saw red as he felt your pussy spasm around him, pulling him even deeper, squeezing him for all he had, wanting to milk him dry of his load.

And who was he to deny such a request?

“Come inside me, Jake, please, please, please!”

You had sensed his orgasm and he let out a growl, finally filling your pussy with his load just as you hit your second high right after the first. Once again, it didn’t stop, it just kept on coming, his cum landing inside you and already dripping out as he fucked both of you through your orgasms, filthy sounds filling the air next to both of your moans and groans and pleads for more.

Jake had expected to be done after three, but no, he was still hard, and so he grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back, standing up straighter as he picked up the speed once more.

“Need another one, baby, just one more, fuck, m-maybe two, I just- fuck, I am so hard, I need to fuck you more, wanna fuck you all night, need to fuck your pussy.”

There was nothing left in his brain except for the need to come, for the need to fuck you. He was like an animal during heat, felt like he was going to explode. His cock was so incredibly sensitive, hurting even at this point, but it was addictive, you were addictive. Just the thought of not being inside of you anymore filled him with something close to agony.

“Y-yes, fu-fuck me Jake, your cock feels so good, s-so big!”

At this point you could have taken the potion yourself judging by how you were feeling and talking. Normally, you were the one in charge, the one on top. But with Jake? You enjoyed being in his hands like this, enjoyed being used by him for his pleasure. You wanted him to fill you up, to split you open, to do with you whatever the hell he wanted.

“God, yes, like my big cock fucking you open like that? Such a good behaved little whore, isn’t that right?” He found himself slapping your ass, and judging by your reaction that had been the exactly right thing to do. He groaned when he felt you squeeze him again, both hands back to holding your hands in place.

He lost himself in you. Lost himself in the pleasure. And you lost yourself in him and the need to have him fill you up again and again.

His fourth orgasm made his cock soften a little. He filled you to the brim, watched the majority drip down your legs, forming a little puddle to your feet and he licked his lips, letting go of your hands and pulling out of you, turning you back around and placing you back on top of the counter.

“Lean back,” he ordered and you did as wanted, eyes wide and pussy throbbing from the last orgasm a few seconds ago.

You leaned back on your elbows, watching him position himself between your legs. He grabbed his cock and placed it in between your lips - to thrust in between them, cockhead repeatedly hitting your clit. You gasped, body jerking forward.

“Wanna paint your whole body with my cum, stay still.” His big hands grabbed your hips, pinning you to the counter as he began to thrust his cock over your pussy, the friction already enough to almost make him come again.

“Mhmm, y-yes, f-feels good!” You cried and he grinned, continuing his spiel like a madman.

“You’re so sexy, so fucking sexy, baby.” He breathed out, his brain slowly but surely coming back to him. And when he heard that little noise you apparently always made before you came (if he could trust the two orgasms from earlier), he felt himself reach the edge as well.

Your head fell back when you felt the next orgasm hit and your pussy ached for more when his next load landed all over your stomach, even reaching as far as your tits, painting you just like he had wanted.

The canvas was finished.

But Jake wasn’t.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, so sorry, I need to-,” his head was fuming red, and he moved back a little, just to dip his cock back into your spent pussy and you fell flat onto your back, your head hanging over the counter.

He fucked you like a ragdoll, like a toy, like he didn’t even really acknowledge you were still there. He pressed down onto your stomach and sped up, tried to fuck you deeper. He imagined he could feel his cock through your skin, imagined he could see himself fucking you just like that.

“S-so deep!” You cried out and he looked at you, at your body, and nodded, watching now how your tits jumped at every thrust. They were stained with his cum as well and he hoped he would never forget this image.

“One more, promise, just one more, my perfect little fucktoy, yeah?”

His words were so filthy, so desperate and full of need, they made your pussy spasm again, made you grip him hard over and over again.

“That’s it, fuck! Gonna come, gonna come, shit, sh-shit! Take my cum, take it, yes, yes!” He was in a spiral downwards, then back up and back down - his last orgasm hitting him like a fucking brick, yet another load landing inside your pussy - one, two, three. His cock twitched and twitched and finally began to soften.

When he pulled out, he fell backwards, landing on the floor, his eyes wide and his ass hurting.

The potion slowly lost its grip on him, his normal, coherent thoughts coming back all while he was getting down from his many, many highs.

You pulled yourself up in exhaustion, your chest heaving. When you sat up straight again, you couldn’t help but chuckle at Jake on the floor.

“Need a hand?” You asked, carefully jumping off the counter and finding that your legs were nothing but mere jelly. Quickly, you grabbed onto the edges of the surface and found your balance again.

“I- I-,” Jake began to stutter, his eyes probably the size of saucers by now. You grinned.

“You?” You raised a brow. Jake’s face turned crimson.

“I- I’m sorry, I-,”

“You’re apologizing? For what? The best sex I’ve ever had?” You snorted, “No, Jakey, no need to apologize.”

Jake bit the inside of his cheeks. Best sex you’ve ever had? While he wanted to feel proud, he wasn’t so sure if that really had been him having sex with you or if the potion had a mind of its own.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” you moved forward now, stretching your hand out for Jake to take, “the potion only strengthens what’s already there. It doesn’t change your personality, it just makes you give less fucks.”

Had you read his mind? Jake cleared his throat and nodded slowly, before taking your hand and letting you help him up.

Only then, when he was standing so close to you again, did he realize you were still covered in his seed. He turned even redder.

“Oh, right.” You giggled, closing your eyes and once again snapping your fingers.

Immediately, you were clean of his cum and back in your dress - which had also magically repaired itself. Jake also found himself back in his briefs and jeans, his coat safely hanging over the counter. His mouth dropped.

“You-,”

“Are an actual witch, correct, Sherlock.” You winked at him and walked back to the other side of the counter, “Now, do you still need that potion?”

Jake stared at you for a second.

“Y-yes,” he mumbled, watching as you quickly finished the preparations. He didn’t dare say anything, his heart beating at triple speed and his brain working overtime. He had just fucked you. For like… a good while. And he didn’t even have your phone number.

“There you go,” you smiled and carefully shoved the bottle with the potion over the counter, “just pour a few drops over your flowers tonight. You should already see some results in the morning.”

“Th-thanks. How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, Jakey. You already paid me enough.” You said cheekily and Jake found himself choking on his own spit.

When he walked out he regretted not asking you for your number. Or if you wanted to go on a date.

But that night, when he got ready to put the potion to its use, he saw a little note stuck to the label he hadn’t seen before.

Tomorrow, 8 o’clock at your place. I promise I’ll bring wine that won’t make you wanna fuck me for hours. It’s a date! Also here’s my number: xxx-xxx-xxx. See you tomorrow, loverboy!

Jake found himself laughing out loud.

And while he did his work in the garden, he thought that just because the wine wouldn’t be the reason, he sure as hell would not mind fucking you for hours at least twice every day for the rest of his life.

#svnet #jake smut #enhypen smut #jake x reader #jake fanfiction #jake au #jake sim fanfiction #enhypen fanfiction #jake x you #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen au #enhypen imagines #kvanity #ksmutsociety #jake sim x reader #enha smut #jake sim smut #sim jaeyun smut

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f1goat · 7 months ago

Text

not a chance + lando norris (one shot)

In which Lando thinks he's going to win a race, to which you tell him the chances of you two fucking are as low as him winning a race - so what happens when he wins?

lando norris x fem!sainz reader tw: smut + not proof read (as usual)

masterlist - playlist

“I think this is going to be my day,” Lando tells your brother, Carlos, with a confident tone in his voice. “Maybe I’ll actually win today.”

You can’t help yourself and let out a soft laugh. “As if,” you mutter softly. You don’t expect anyone to pay attention to you, let alone hear your comment, but while looking at Lando you’re quick to realize that he did hear you. He is sending you an annoyed glare, while Carlos tries to tell you without words that you should shut up. Bit too late for that now.

“Don’t believe me babygirl?” Lando asks you. The earlier confidence in his voice has disappeared and made place for a sarcastic tone, one Lando only uses with you. “Nope,” you say, making sure that you’re popping the p.

“I’m not doing this again,” Carlos sighs while looking at his little sister and one of his best friends. Lando and you both know what he’s talking about, but neither of you is backing away. Lando is even getting closer towards you. “I’ll see you later,” Carlos continues, “hopefully after the two of you finally fixed the fucking sexual tension between you two.”

It’s not a secret that Lando and you don’t like each other. You don’t know how it happened, where you were once almost as close with him as Carlos, things changed between you two. Friendly conversations changed into sarcastic, mean remarks meant to hurt to other one. Meeting up when Carlos couldn’t join changed into only seeing each other when Carlos dragged the both of you in the same place. Always texting with each other, sending memes towards each other eventually changed into ignoring each other on every social platform.

Whatever happened to cause the change between Lando and you, has never been clear to you. Sometimes you blame yourself for taking a bit more distance when Lando got his first girlfriend, but eventually it was Lando who really changed his attitude towards you. Sometimes you miss how it was before, or better said every time you see Lando you miss how it was before. Even if you were fighting your feelings for him, it was better then acting like you hate him. Of course you don’t hate Lando, how could you - especially after crushing on him for the longest time.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, you look at the text that’s coming in. It’s from Carlos. When you’re done toying with Lando, I’m at Ferrari. Saved you a seat. You should go to him now, that would be the smart thing to do. But Lando is still standing closely in front of you. Carlos believes that something else is going on between Lando and you, something that’s according to him caused by romantic feelings, but according to you that’s bullshit. Your crush on Lando doesn’t exist anymore, right?

“Funny to see the girl who believed in you the most turn into one of your biggest haters,” Lando mutters annoyed. He truly feels betrayed by the way you’re talking about him and the upcoming race. He means his earlier words. Sometimes he wonders how things would be between you two if he did some things different. A lot changed when he was dating his ex girlfriend, changes he can’t undo but he wants to fix them. If you’ll let him.

“Not a hater,” you reply, “just a realist.”

“Just watch me babygirl,” Lando says, “I’ll show you.”

“No thanks.”

“And after the podium I’ll find you and show you what else I can do,” Lando continues. He almost sounds dangerous. It causes you to feel flustered. What is he talking about?

“The chances of you’re winning the race are as low as the chances of us going to fuck,” you tell him as if it’s a fact, while in reality you’re not so sure about yourself.

“Seems like a good celebration, I’ll find you after the race,” Lando says, he has found his confidence back.

“You’re crazy,” you sigh, “I’m not listening to this any longer.”

“See you after the race babygirl,” Lando says when you walk away from him.

“You won’t.”

+++

Fuck. Did this actually happen? You don’t know whether to laugh or to cry when you’re looking at Lando who’s screaming from happiness while getting out of his car. How did he actually win todays race? What does this mean? What is going to happen now? Is Lando expecting that you’ll have sex with him now? Fuck.

You see the way your brother is hugging with Lando, how happy he is for his friend. It makes you think about how you felt before. Every time Lando stood on the podium you’d beam with pride, you love(d) seeing him on the podium. It was you who always told Lando that he would be standing on the top step soon and that you’d be there to celebrate with him. How things changed.

While looking at Lando who’s still celebrating with his team, you think back about the day things really went wrong between Lando and you. It has been months before it all crashed down, months filled up with weird tension and uncomfortable moments. Which all started when Lando got a girlfriend. You can’t blame him for that, you still don’t, but you just didn’t like her. Maybe it was because of your crush on Lando, maybe it was because his girlfriend sensed something and made sure that Lando and you couldn’t spend any time together anymore.

“You don’t get it Lando,” you tell him, “I never get to see you anymore, you’re always busy and don’t make time for me anymore. What changed? Are you bored of me? Am I not fun enough to be your friend anymore?”

“No, that’s not it,” Lando quickly says, “I just don’t have the time anymore.”

“You seem to have time for everyone expect for me,” you bitterly state, “I’m not stupid, I see how you’re traveling all around the world to meet up with every friend you have.”

“It’s different,” Lando defends himself.

“Just tell me what I did wrong,” you sigh, “since you’re in a relationship everything changed between us.”

Lando knew at that moment that he should tell you the truth. How he only agreed to his relationship so he could forget about his feelings for you, but he doesn’t dare to say so. And now he’s in a relationship with a weird influencer who seems to hate you and who doesn’t ‘allow’ him to see you anymore. He really should break up with her, but what will happen then?

“It’s just that she doesn’t like you,” Lando eventually tells you, “and as her boyfriend I need to chose her side, I guess?”

“So that’s it? Your girlfriend, from two months, doesn’t like me so you just decided to stop spending time with me, your friend from multiple years?” You ask confused. This time you don’t wait for Lando to continue. “That’s just, fuck, I don’t know what to say to that. Good to know my worth,” you continue sadly.

After his confession which still wasn’t the whole story, Lando didn’t know what to say anymore. He watched how you left, but didn’t follow you to make things right. Maybe it’s for the better for now. There’s nothing he can do for now. He has a girlfriend, he needs to forget about his feelings for you and move on.

Two hours later he broke up with his girlfriend, but then he was already blocked by you.

After Lando celebrated with his team, almost all the other drivers and everyone else who congratulated him, you’re waiting for him to get on the podium. You feel weird while watching Lando on the podium. There’s a part of you who’s incredibly proud of him, a part that wants nothing more then to run over to Lando and hug him and tell him how proud you are of him. The other side of you is only thinking about what will happen next.

When Lando is standing on the podium, you can’t stop thinking about how hot he looks. When Carlos finds his place next to you and watches Lando with you, he notices the way you keep looking at his best friend. “I really wouldn’t be mad if there would happen something between Lando and you,” Carlos tells you for the millionth time. “You’re crazy,” you reply annoyed.

What Carlos and you both don’t notice is the way Lando is looking for you from the podium. When you look up again, you lock eyes with Lando. He sends you a wink. Fuck.

After the podium you walk away together with Carlos, you want nothing more then get back to the hotel and sleep. This day was confusing and long, you can’t wait for it to end. Lando notices you walking away, without thinking about it he walks away from the press and starts to get towards you. He hurries and almost runs towards you. When he finally reaches you, he grabs your arm.

“What the fuck,” you mutter when you feel someone grabbing your arm. Surprised you stop walking and look behind you. You don’t even know if you are surprised or not when you notice that it’s Lando.

“You’re coming with me,” Lando tells you with a stern voice. Carlos looks confused at the two of you. You can only sigh. What are you going to say to this? You really don’t know. Slowly you nod at Lando, confusing your brother only more. Lando is quick to say a goodbye to Carlos and starts to walk off with you.

+++

Lando dropped you in his drivers room. He still has media duties, but he wanted to make sure that you didn’t leave in the mean time. While giving interviews and talking with everyone, his mind is focused on you. He can only hope that you’re still waiting for him.

In the mean time you keep thinking about what to do. You’re stressed out because of everything that’s happening. What will happen when Lando comes back from his interviews? Are the two of you going to talk things out and finally make it right? Or are you going to fight? Or is Lando actually for real and does he wants to fuck you?

Eventually the stress makes you crazy. You decide to call your brother. Who knows for how long Lando is busy, you really need to talk with someone about this and who’s better then one of Lando his best friends? You know that your brother knows about your earlier feelings for Lando, so you can only hope that he will help you now. What if your feelings return? Or better said, what if you finally realize that they have never left?

“Carlos you really need to help me,” you start to speak when Carlos picks up.

“No, no, you need to tell me what’s going on between Lando and you! He left an interview to pick you up and now he’s doing interviews again? Where are you?” Carlos reacts.

“I’m in his drivers room,” you confess, “but I don’t know what will happen between us.” After that you explain to your brother what happened earlier today when he left Lando and you alone. Carlos chuckles when you tell him about Lando his bold replies.

“What do you want to happen?” Carlos asks you eventually.

“I don’t know,” you say honestly.

“You do know,” Carlos replies, “you’re just not honest to yourself. But we both know that you’re still in love with Lando.”

Before you can react to those words, Lando is entering his drivers room. You can only pray that he didn’t hear anything from what Carlos just said. “Lando’s here,” you tell Carlos on the phone, “I’ll talk to you later.” Before hanging up you hear Carlos say something childish in the lines of ‘doing it safe’. As if Lando wants something like that to happen you think annoyed.

“What am I doing here Lando?” You ask.

“I’m getting my reward,” Lando tells you with a small smirk on his face.

“Your reward?” You ask confused.

“The chances of you winning the race are as low as the chances of us having sex,” Lando speaks up, “Remember those words babygirl?”

“What do you want Lando?” You ask him.

“You.”

Lando his answer makes you shiver. His following movements make it only worse. Without giving it a second thought, Lando pulls you into himself. His finger is under your chin, softly lifting it up for himself. He looks you into your eyes, searching for some sort of approval before he continues with his movements. When you show him a quick nod, he’s sure about it. Lando presses his lips against yours.

Fuck, you can’t remember the last time a kiss felt so good. Now that you think of it, a kiss probably never felt this good before. It feels like everything is finally falling into it’s place. Lando pulls you as close into himself as he can manage. Your lips don’t leave his. When you feel Lando his hands on your body, a soft moan leaves your lips. Lando feels it vibrate against his own. Slowly he pulls back from you.

“Lan,” you softly whimper when he doesn’t stop looking at you.

“What is it babygirl?” He asks you. It’s the first time in a year that the nickname feels sweet instead of sarcastic.

“Do something please,” you beg.

Lando is quick to respond to your pleas. His hands find your body. Slowly he explores your curves while he presses some soft kisses on your neck, shoulders and face in the mean time. When Lando his hands are getting lower, you’re quick to lift up your skirt for him. Lando smirks when he notices it.

“What do you want me to do?” Lando asks you.

“If you can win,” you softly say, “then you also can fuck me I guess.”

This time Lando doesn’t hide his excitement anymore. He shows you an enthusiastic grin and moves away from you. Before you can complain, he’s already sitting in front of you. He takes off your skirt and starts to trace figures onto your still clothed cunt. He feels how your string is already damp.

“You guess?” Lando asks you.

“Don’t tease,” you tell him, “just fuck me already.”

Lando removes your string from your body. He moves his head closely to your cunt and presses a soft kiss against your clit. He’s in conflict with himself, he wants to take his time with you and show you exactly what he has to offer but he also just wants to fuck you right now until the both of you are lost for words.

“Lan,” you whimper.

“Can’t I take my time with you babygirl?” Lando asks you teasingly. In the mean time he pulls down his race suit and boxers.

“Next time,” you reply.

It makes Lando’s heart miss a beat. You’re thinking about a next time? His smile gets bigger again. He pulls you closer to him and aligns his dick with your entrance. You grab his hair in the mean time and try to get Lando closer towards yourself so you can kiss him again. When Lando lets his dick enter your body, it causes you to let out a loud moan.

“Fuck,” Lando groans, “waited fucking four years to feel this.”

You barely hear him. Lando his words surprise you. Four years ago the two of you just met. At that time Carlos just got Lando as his new teammate. What does Lando mean with this. Before you can make things more clear for yourself, Lando continues to speak.

“Always wanted to fuck you,” Lando grunts, “Always thought about fucking you.”

Does this mean what you think it means?

“What about..” You start to ask. “Don’t say her name,” Lando is quick to interrupt you. How does he already know that you’re talking about his ex? “Only got with her so I could forget you,” he confesses.

“Fuck,” you moan, you don’t know but after Lando his sudden confession the sex feels even ten times better then before. “Always wanted you to fuck me as well,” you confess.

That makes Lando slow down.

“Waited four years for you,” you continue to confess.

This time Lando stops moving inside of you.

“Are you serious babygirl?” Lando asks confused.

“Yes,” you softly tell Lando, “I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time.”

Lando grins, “That’s good,” he says, “Really good.” He picks up his earlier pace and continues to fuck you. When the both of you reached your high, Lando carefully pulls back. He pulls you onto himself. Holding you as close towards himself as he can.

“Four years right?” You ask Lando.

“Four years,” he replies with a nod.

The both of you let out a soft laugh. Suddenly nobody cares about what happened between you two in the last year. Sure, you will talk about it some time. But not now. Lando presses a kiss against your cheek.

“Did you really think I couldn’t get a win today?” Lando suddenly asks you.

“Lan,” you softly say, “I always believed you could get a win everywhere.”

“That’s a girlfriend thing to say,” Lando jokes, “Are you my girlfriend now?”

“Do you want me to be?”

“There’s nothing more I want to,” Lando confesses.

“Then I guess I’m your girlfriend,” you laugh. Lando kisses you again.

“Let’s grab dinner with your brother,” Lando suggests, “and after that I want you in my hotel room so I can take my time with you.”

“Deal.”

y/n: want to get dinner with me and my boyfriend?

y/n: he’s a race winner ;)

carlos: finally

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris smut #lando norris imagines

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heechwe · 3 months ago

Text

dancing with our hands tied ↦ sjy

⋆ pairing: sim (jake) jaeyun x fem!reader ⋆ word count: 7.7k ⋆ genre: semi-angst, fluff, smut (18+/mdni!) ⋆ tags: brothersbsf!jake, minor age difference, college au, friends with benefits, secret relationship, light choking, semi-public sex, oral (f + m receiving), fingering penetration, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex folks). ⋆ synopsis: What began as a simple friends-with-benefits situation with your brother's best friend has turned into something deeper, and you now find that your emotions are more complicated than you initially thought. ➸ bless @temptaetions for giving me so much amazing dialogue to work with and @sweetvenomnet for getting me through finishing this monster!

You did not envision Sunday morning sitting across from your brother, concealing the bottom half of your body with your comforter and Jake next to you in bed. Jay’s face is a jumble of shock and anger, fists balled at his sides. You’re unsure if he’s ready to kick his best friend’s ass or throw him out by his neck, or both.

“How the fuck did this fucking happen,” Jay yells.

Well, you think, the beginning is a lot easier to explain than where we’re at now…

The first night you slept with Jake six months ago was like any other. Jay, your older brother by two years, was home with his best friend for the weekend. They had bonded over their freshman year as dorm buddies and Jay immediately inserted Jake into the family. “He’s like the brother I never had,” Jay would say when people would comment on them being attached at the hip.

It was not unusual for the two of them to stay over at your parents’ house when they were back in town. The university was more than three hours away. If they tried to drive home the same day, it would only end in a headache thanks to the rush-hour traffic.

It was nice to see Jay succeeding though, his footsteps being ones you’d hope to follow in one day. He had it all figured out, while you were anything but decided. Still unsure about what to do now that you had graduated, you chose to stay home and attend community college in the meantime.

But Jay occasionally being back in your presence meant he had to fulfill his annoying brotherly roles, like boring you with tales of campus and admonishing you for risqué outfit choices.

Like that night.

He stopped you short at the door with judgmental eyes scanning up and down your dress. “Absolutely not.”

You scoffed and pushed him out of your way. The dress hugged your curves just right and the color fit your aestethic. You knew when you bought it that the length wasn’t ideal for everyday wear, but it was perfect for a night out. Jay wouldn’t tell you otherwise. “You don’t have to act like Dad, dude.”

“Listen,” he said, rolling his eyes. “We all know you’re a woman. You don’t need to prove it with a little black dress.”

“Unless you’re blind, this dress is blue,” you mocked him.

“You know what I mean, smart-ass! You’re not leaving wearing that!”

“What’s going on,” Jake called from the kitchen.

“My sister’s about to walk out of the house in a napkin,” Jay responded, sarcasm dripping from his mouth.

“You’re such a prick,” you said, crossing your arms.

Jake sauntered into the sitting room, a bag of chips in his hand. He was taken back by the outfit, his eyes slowly trailing down your body. His Adam’s apple bobbed as Jay continued on his tirade about modesty to nobody but the air.

“You look pretty,” Jake said finally. He popped a chip in his mouth.

Your cheeks turned red instantly. Jay’s best friend wasn’t unattractive to look at, not in the slightest, so hearing him say such a thing even in quick passing made your body tense.

Before you could thank him for the compliment, Jay coughed like he swallowed his own spit.

“Did you just say she looks pretty?” Jay asked in his best friend’s direction.

Jake chomped down on another chip. “What,” he said, his mouth full.

“If I heard that right, you just said my sister looks pretty in her dress.”

“Yes?” Jake’s expression morphed into confusion as your brother’s face went pale.

“Do you have a death wish?” Jay asked.

“Bro, c’mon—”

“No, seriously. Do you?”

You backed up towards the door, making sure not to clack your heels too hard on the tile to be noticed.

Jay, however, sensed your escape. “I meant it! You’re not leaving without putting something else on.”

“Seongie, stop being an asshole. I’m gonna be late,” you whined.

“Dude, all I said was that she looked pretty,” Jake butted in.

Jay turned his focus back to him. “You said the girl you fucked at that club on Fifth was pretty.”

“Bro, I’m not gonna fuck—” Jake ran his free hand through his hair, smiling in incredulity at the ridiculous conversation. “Just trust me.”

“Finish that sentence.”

Jake scoffed, mouth agape. “What the hell, man?”

“Finish. The. Sentence. Jaeyun.”

“Okay, if you’re done being weirdly overprotective and Jaeyun’s done taking back his compliment, I have a happy hour to go to.”

Jay was so preoccupied with Jake at that point that he barely registered your words and your exit from the house. Before he could protest again, Jake interrupted him.

“I’m not going to fuck your sister, Jong,” he says.

“Thanks, that’s reassuring,” Jay responded.

As you closed the door, you heard Jake say, “But if she fucks me, that’s a different story.”

Despite walking down the cobblestone pathway, you heard Jake’s cries from your older brother whacking him. Jay screamed, “You sick fuck!”

Your cheeks felt hot when you finally got inside of your friend’s car. You greeted them with a smile when you sat in the back seat, but your mind kept playing back Jake’s words. He must have had enough pickings on campus and in his hometown to keep him satisfied. He didn’t need to put his effort or interest in you. There’s no way that he would, right?

Five hours later, the clock just shy of 1 AM, you stepped quietly inside to not wake your parents. Tiptoeing up the stairs to your room, you didn’t see Jay’s bedroom light on, certain he was fast asleep. That gave you some relief knowing he didn’t stick around to admonish you for not listening to his forceful advice.

What you weren’t expecting was Jake to be sprawled out on your bed, his body akin to a limp starfish. He had been scrolling endlessly through his Instagram feed until you creaked open the door to your room.

A silent scream jolted your pulse. “Jaeyun, what the fuck are you doing here?” you asked.

“Jongseong told me to wait for you. He wanted to make sure you got home safe,” Jake said absentmindedly, like being in your bed is a natural occurrence by now.

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. “Helicopter Himbo couldn’t do that himself?”

“He linked up with some girl he knows…Dahyun I think was her name?”

You sighed. Of course Jay had to hook up with his high school ex when he had no other options to exhaust. You thought Jay had higher standards than that at this point in his life, but he was still Jay.

You nodded. The soles of your feet throbbed from wearing your heels longer than you intended to. You tried to hide the pain on your face, but Jake was quick to walk over to you and feign concern.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah. I’m just slightly buzzed and I’d like to see the inside of my eyelids and forget how bad my feet hurt right now.” You released a breathless laugh. “You can text my doofus of a brother and tell him I’m in one piece.”

You practically motioned your head towards the door, but Jake only smirked in response.

“Well, first things first, let’s take these off.” Before you knew it, Jake leaned down and began unbuckling the clasps of your stilettos for you. The sight made the alcoholic buzz running through your veins mutate into something sensual. You felt the ache between your legs as Jake’s fingers caressed the skin of your ankle as he was taking off your shoes for you, and immediately you remembered who he was.

This was wrong, and in no way going to happen. Not with someone who your brother confided in and loved so dearly. No matter how it felt every time you looked at him, or if he did intimate things like this that made you question everything.

“I meant what I said earlier you know,” Jake whispered. “And I wasn’t trying to take it back when Jongseong was grilling me about it.”

“I get it. He can be intense sometimes,” you mumbled.

“But you did look pretty. Fuck, you still do.” Jake chuckled to himself and positioned your feet out of the shoes and onto the carpet floor. The fabric felt cool against your toes, and instinctively you released a pleasurable sigh.

“So much better,” you moaned, smiling. “Thank you.”

Jake stood up, his grin infectious. “My pleasure.”

Neither of you moved, and admittedly you were glad Jake hadn’t made his exit yet. In the blur between your gratitude and onslaught of confusing feelings, the tether between your head and your body loosened.

Then you were kissing him. You were kissing your brother’s best friend and enjoying it very much, an amalgamation of all the passing glances you threw at him when Jay wasn’t looking and the semi-flirty conversations coming to a head in your lips and tongue.

Jake was kissing you back with the same fervor, his hands roaming to the curve of your ass and groaning in your mouth at the sensation of your bodies touching.

“Fuck,” Jake swore and pulled you in tighter, clutching at the hem of your dress.

In a tangle of fingers and lips, you almost didn’t register the feeling of your mattress against your back and the cool air on your skin when Jake pulled the dress down your body. But you did relish in the feeling of his tongue between your legs and how deliciously he slipped inside of you afterwards. And by that point, there was no time to regret and worry about what would happen next. All that mattered was the present and savoring it.

Three weeks after that first encounter, it was easy to forget it ever happened. The next morning, Jay and Jake had gone back to campus without a word. That was normal for them, seeing as they woke early and didn’t want to disturb anyone in the house.

For you, it was a bit disheartening, but it proved exactly what you knew. It was a mistake and a potential repeat was nonexistent. “Jeong’ll never find out and this can stay buried,” you told yourself.

Jay was too busy with his studies to respond with anything but one-word answers to your texts after that, so you gave up initiating anything. Jake, however, began texting you often to either greet you in the morning or say he hoped you were having a good day. It was sweet, but you didn’t read too deep into it. You replied in kind and left it at that.

Then, the boys came back one Friday afternoon in Jake’s Tahoe, and your nerves were live wires at their impromptu arrival. You had not seen Jake since that night in your bedroom. You felt the heaviness of guilt when you welcomed Jay home with a hug. A secret shouldn’t have had the power to eat you alive, but it did all the same.

And it didn’t help seeing Jake either. His smile took you back to the hours you had spent together in your bed. It was a kaleidoscope of memories. His hands on your hips, his whispers in your ear, his mouth in between your legs—

“Yo!” Jay waved his hand in front of your face. “I asked if you could help us with the last duffel bag.”

“Yeah, of course,” you said, walking over to the trunk. Jake’s shoulder brushed yours as you moved past him, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched. If you weren’t deluding yourself, you could’ve sworn you heard his throat catch in the same way.

You decided to leave the house that night, meeting up with a classmate to take your mind off of what was waiting at home. The Uber driver was polite, not bothering you as you were lost in your thoughts. Thankfully, the tequila sunrise you gulped down numbed your thought processes long enough that you could unwind and converse without rambling on about the situation you were in.

Then, you heard the ping of your phone and saw Jake’s message light up the screen.

Received at 11:23 PM: I’m picking you up. JS doesn’t want you taking an Uber when you’re not sober.

You sighed and typed back a reply with the hand not holding your drink. The words might have been mistyped, but you knew the message would get across to him.

Sent at 11:27 PM: im find u dont ned to come th last guy w nice.

Received at 11:29 PM: Sure. I’ll be there in 15.

You groaned. Jake could be as stubborn as your brother; it was no surprise the two of them became such good friends.

When Jake’s arrival came closer, you said goodbye and walked out of the bar, kicking your feet on the sidewalk gravel while you waited.

His truck’s lights came into full view a minute later. You got inside without a word, leaning your forehead against the passenger window. Just because he was being stubborn didn’t mean you had to be okay with it.

“Have fun?” Jake kept his focus on the road, but he sounded sincere when he asked about your night. While your heart swelled at the tone of his voice, it made the thoughts you tried so hard to suppress creep back in with full force. You were at a loss as to what to say. Honesty was off the table, but you weren’t capable of pulling your heart from your sleeve.

“I was. Not anymore.” You pouted.

You didn’t let him respond to your comment, instead looking around at his car’s interior and changing the subject. “I didn’t expect you to own a Tahoe.”

“What do you mean?” He asked with a chuckle.

“It’s so much space for one person.”

“Well, it was my dad’s truck. He gave it to me before I left for school. Now, I use it to go hiking and stuff with my dog, Layla.”

You smiled and leaned into the seat, looking at him. “That’s hard to believe.”

“That I have a dog or that I actually do physical activity? You’ve seen my body.”

You giggled and turned away. “I guess both. I’ve always wanted a dog, but Jungseong’s allergic. My parents thought plushies were a good compromise. And it all makes sense now. You can’t be that handsome naturally.”

Jake laughed harder. Without warning, he put his hand on your thigh, the feeling foreign yet incredibly welcome. You hummed in pleasure at the sensation. While you would’ve loved to enjoy the moment, your logic kicked in at the scene playing out in front of you.

“Jaeyun, you can’t just do that.”

“Why not? I wanted to,” he confessed, squeezing the curve of your knee. He moved his hand slowly across your skin.

You bit your lip and shook your head. “Just because you want to doesn’t mean you should.”

“Are we still talking about my hand or something else?” You gave him a stern but cutting look, the Are you kidding me evident in your eyes. It made Jake curse into the open air. “Fuck this.”

Jake pulled off into a vacant parking lot of a convenience store, one lamppost barely lighting the surrounding area. He put the car in park with an aggressive fist on the stick shift.

“Okay,” he started. “You want to talk about that night? Let’s talk about it.”

He inhaled a breath. You were terrified of what was unsaid and what he planned on saying, but you knew it was better to put it to rest sooner rather than later.

“I’m not sorry for what happened that night. I liked it and I liked you.” He looked directly into your eyes, his pupils dilating with extreme vulnerability. “I like you. And I’d like to repeat that night as many times as you want, but you’re my best friend’s sister and I don’t know how to accept those two things being true at once.”

You were taken back, his words the ones you wish you could have said to him before he left that morning. You tried to stamp down the truth many times since then, but Jake feeling the exact same way made you realize it wasn’t wrong to want what you wanted.

And Jay didn’t have to know everything.

“I do too,” you responded. “I like you too, and that night is all I’ve been thinking about.” You felt the knot in your stomach loosen, smiling in surprise from his confession. “And I would like to have more of those nights, for sure. In more than just my bed.”

Jake smirked and leaned in closer to you, lips ghosting over yours. “So if I said I wanted to fuck you in my car, you’d let me?”

You didn’t respond to that question with words, both of you knowing the question itself was rhetorical. You pressed your mouth to his hard.

The kiss was a clash of teeth and tongue, the act a desperate plea to pull each other closer after weeks of not being together. Now that you had Jake where you wanted him, you weren’t letting him go.

Jake palmed one of your breasts over your shirt, and you partially broke away from his mouth to moan. He swallowed it, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

“You like that?” Jake asked, his voice husky.

“Fuck yes,” you said, knowing it was the truth. Nothing felt better than his touch on your skin.

He grabbed the side of your throat with his free palm. The other was hovering over the waistband of your shorts, his thumbs deftly unbuttoning them and dragging the zipper down.

“Tell me now if you don’t want this,” he panted. “And I swear I’ll stop.”

You shook your head vigorously. “If you stop right now, Jaeyun, I might just have to kill you.”

Jake gave you a crooked smile and kissed you again, harder than the first time but just as pleasurable.

His fingers dipped into your underwear, and you both groaned when he found your clit. He was surprised that the little amount of foreplay already made you this wet. You were just glad to have his fingers where you needed them the most.

You moved your hips in rhythm with his digits, the figure-eight patterns he was drawing into your skin creating stars behind your eyes. You released numerous whimpers and gasps into Jake’s mouth as he kept rubbing up and down your pussy, your clit receiving the most attention.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Jaeyun, I need you inside of me, please,” you begged. You gripped onto his shirt tightly to emphasize how bad the desire was to feel him stretch you open.

He nipped your lips again. “Climb in the back seat, baby.”

Jake followed in suit as soon as you moved from the passenger seat to the back. Once he sat down, you had his pants around his ankles and the head of his dick lined up with your entrance, your panties moved to the side to make room for him.

The fullness of his cock filling you to the hilt made your eyelids flutter. Jake knocked the back of his head into one of the headrests, the groan that left his mouth so beautiful you wished you could’ve replayed the sound on loop.

“God, you’re so tight.” He pushed his hips up further into you, the tip kissing your cervix. “It’s fucking incredible.”

You moaned in agreement. Beginning to grind his hips into yours, you licked and sucked the spot behind Jaeyun’s ear. You remembered how much he loved it the first night you had sex, and he loved it even more now that you were partially in control riding him.

He bucked up into you here and there, but for the most part, you were setting the pace. The sounds of your skin slapping against each other as well as both of your moan-laced expletives filled the back seat.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Bounce on this cock. Show me how much you want me.” He trapped your hips with his hands, holding on tight as you continued to grind against him.

“I want to come so bad, Jae,” you gasped. “Please make me come.”

Jake took his index and middle finger and found your clit again. He circled the nub with tenderness as you continued to ride him without mercy. He knew he could come at anytime with how well you were touching him and taking all of him inside of you, but he had no problem waiting until you found your pleasure first.

You felt the orgasm creeping up on you, starting in the pit of your stomach and ready to come to the surface. You begin to grow sloppy with your rhythm, and Jake took extra effort with his fingers to push you over the edge.

“Let go for me, love. Come all over me.”

You cried out, clutching onto Jake’s hair hard as you rode out your orgasm to its full capacity. Jake let go in that same moment, painting your insides white and cursing the entire time at how good it felt.

When you sat down next to him in the back seat, both of you sated and breathless, you knew the path forward was uncertain. And sure, a million questions still lingered in your mind, but you stored them away without a second thought, refusing to let them ruin your current happiness.

This led to where you were with Jake for the past six months, having sex every time he was in town and even sneaking off to visit him when you had the chance. He would pick you up in his truck and hold your hand across the console the entire drive to and from his student apartment. The two of you were skilled at keeping your trysts out of sight from Jay both in your hometown and on campus, the local spots he wanted to take you to and your favorite hometown stores not ones Jay frequented often.

At the same time, Jay had gotten back into a relationship with Dahyun, but you were optimistic for the both of them this time around. He seemed to be really happy, as were you, although he didn’t know the reason why. Dahyun would hang out with the guys and you when she got off work, and the four of you would drink and watch movies together like any other couples would.

The only part that didn’t fit such a picture perfect image was the fact you and Jake were not a couple at all. You slept together and did most things boyfriends and girlfriends did, but there were no labels. It was as if saying it out loud would make it real, and then you’d have to confront the biggest hurdle of all: telling your brother. And you were determined to put that off for as long as possible.

One morning, as you made breakfast in the kitchen for all three of you, Jake slid in behind you without you noticing. You gasped, feeling his chest against your back. “Jae, you can’t do that!”

“Couldn’t help it. Smelled pretty good in here,” Jake responded, kissing the spot that joined your neck and shoulder together, his hair tickling your ear in the process.

“I know, I can’t wait to eat it.”

“I was gonna say the same thing.” Jake smirked.

“Jae,” you reprimanded him, grinning. “Jongseong could come down at any second.”

“But he’s not. Last time I checked, he was still asleep.” The curve of his lips touched your collarbone, making you shiver.

“And when was that?”

In that moment, you both heard Jay yelling “I did it!” in tandem with his quick steps down the staircase. You both split apart in record time. Jake pretended he was searching for a drink in the fridge while you flipped the fried egg in the pan.

“I finally did it,” Jay exclaimed, a wide smile on his face directed at Jake.

“Did what?” Jake asked.

“I got you a date with Dahyun’s cousin Jihyo tonight. Dahyun’s been dying to go out to this new restaurant downtown, and I know you’ve been lacking in the pussy department lately.” You felt the saliva in the back of your mouth hit the wrong pipe, and you coughed.

“You okay, sis?” Jay asked, grabbing you by the shoulder.

“Yeah. Just choked for a second, sorry.” There was nothing wrong with Jake going out; he had no obligations to you. Yet, at the same time, the thought of him finding someone new felt like acid on your tongue.

Jay turned back to Jake, excitement filling his features again. “Come on man, you haven’t picked anyone up in what? Five months? Either your game got terrible or you’ve been holding out on me about some new chick.”

You plopped the fried egg on the plate next to you and motioned for Jake to pick it up. “Over medium, how you like it.”

“How do you know his egg order, freak?” Jay questioned you with a chuckle.

“I asked him this morning, dingbat. While you were snoring in your room and told me to leave so you could get your beauty rest.” Jay gave you the middle finger but you didn’t pay attention to him. You looked back at Jake with shy eyes. “You want toast?”

“No thank you,” Jake said with a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. You could tell when Jake was uncomfortable. His entire body grew stiff at the thought of being roped into a double date with a stranger.

But, avoiding suspicion, Jake said, “Sure man. Can’t promise I’ll be into her, though.”

Jay smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder. “I’ll take it.”

When Jay ran back upstairs to call Dahyun with the news, Jake dropped his plate back on the counter. He suddenly pinned you against it with his hands on your waist, forcing you to look at him. “I don’t have to go on this date if you don’t want me to.”

You shook your head, the faintest frown on your face, hoping it looked more like an expression of indifference. “If you don’t, Seongie’s going to ask more questions. Besides, we’re not together. You don’t have to ask for my permission.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” He furrowed his eyebrows. If there was one emotion you didn’t show him often, it was ice. But if the alternative was being emotionally exposed in that moment, you would choose the former.

“You know what I mean.” You broke free from his grasp, swallowing the bitter taste in your mouth. You turned off the stove and threw the sizzling pan into the sink. “Hope you have fun.”

Jake waited for you to elaborate, but after a minute of silence, he admitted his defeat and walked out of the kitchen. It cracked a piece of your heart to be so cold, but what other choices were on the table?

Once he was gone, you grabbed your phone from your pocket. Typing out the number in your mind and pressing the call button, you hoped the man you were looking for answered.

“Sunghoon?” You spoke, relieved he picked up. “I need a huge favor.”

“Do I have to?” Sunghoon groaned, straightening the collar of his polo shirt. “This is so ridiculous.”

“Hold my fucking hand, Hoon, or I swear to god I will tell Professor Choi you used my essay on Machiavelli for your paper.”

He released a low, agitated sound and put his hand in yours, squeezing your palm in retaliation. You smiled and walked into the restaurant.

You didn’t go all out with your outfit. A simple dress and denim jacket fit with the atmosphere of the Brazilian barbecue joint Dahyun wanted to check out. Sunghoon also followed your instructions to the letter, looking presentable without trying too hard.

The hostess made you both wait fifteen minutes or so for a table. Even at 9 PM on a Saturday, past normal dinner time for most folks, the business was still bustling due to the word of mouth from their grand opening a week ago. It didn’t take long though for you to find Jay and Jake sitting at a table in a corner booth. It was like Jake’s presence in any tiny or expansive space was a magnet, pulling you in without giving you space to put up a fight.

“So that’s the guy,” Sunghoon stated, staring at Jake next to your brother. “He’s cute. I see why you’re in love with him.”

“Shut up!” You laughed and smacked him in the chest. He pretended to act hurt, smiling the entire time.

Your Humanities classmate might have been too sarcastic and vain for his own good, but you knew he was a good friend and would always come if you called. And while it was purely platonic, he didn’t mind playing the part of the arm candy for another free essay.

In the midst of your shared laughter, neither of you saw both Jay and Jake walking over to you. Jay’s cough pulled you out of your trance, and you stood stock still at the sight of Jake’s clenched jaw and crossed arms, immediately dropping Sunghoon’s hand in the process.

Jay said your name in annoyance. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Hoon and I have class together, but we decided to have dinner after studying,” you say with a smile. “Funny we’d be at the same place as you guys!”

“You have my location, dipshit,” Jay said with a stone face.

“Just because I have it doesn’t mean I look at it,” you said in your defense.

Hoon held his hand out to both men, but you knew it was bait specifically meant for Jake. “Nice to meet you.”

Jake clenched his jaw even tighter. You thought he would break the bottom half of his face if he kept it up. To your surprise, he grabbed Sunghoon’s hand like a pure gentleman. Jay did the same.

You immediately felt so small. It didn’t have to be this way, trying to pull a front for this guy that wasn’t even yours. If it took this much effort to be exclusive, a title you didn’t fight for to begin with, maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

When Sunghoon let go of Jay’s hand, you grabbed him by the bicep. “We can just go somewhere else. We’ll probably wait another hour before getting a table if we stay, anyway.”

Jay agreed. “I had to book this in advance, so she’s probably right.”

Jake looked directly in your eyes when he said, “Hope you have fun.” Mirroring your words from earlier, Jake’s were laced with spiteful sarcasm.

Sunghoon put a hand on the small of your back and guided the two of you out of the restaurant. It took everything in you to not turn back and reveal it all in that stupid restaurant, but you circled back to your initial thoughts. What would it do attempting to claim him now? It was already pointless.

You didn’t make it home until midnight, spending the night scarfing down Chinese with Sunghoon in his apartment and watching old seasons of New Girl together. It was a bitch thinking about what it would be like when you got home. Jay would quiz you on Sunghoon and his motives or Jake would get defensive on what you were doing with the guy to begin with. Or both.

The last piece of advice Sunghoon left you with as he drove off was to “be honest” with Jake, if that was any bit as simple as it sounded coming out of his mouth.

You stepped inside your house without a care for your noise level, knowing your parents were off on an overseas conference for four days. And what were the chances the guys had gotten home by now?

But, like the first night you had spent together, Jake was waiting up for you in your room, sitting stock straight with his hands in his lap.

You didn’t freak out or feel shocked by his presence. You were glad to see him actually, but greeting him with anything but a hello would have been inappropriate given the last few hours.

“Hi,” you began.

“Why have you been gone so long?” His voice was clipped, matter-of-fact but laced with authority. The mixture of sadness and anger in his face surprised you. Jake was always fun, silly, casual…never like this.

“I lost track of time.” It was the easiest answer to give him, even if it wasn’t enough to assuage his concerns. “We just ate takeout and watched sitcoms.”

He nodded and stood up. Walking closer to you, the emotions on his face registered to you so clearly now. The anger was simply misplaced pain, unsure where to go but in front of you for an answer. “What do you want from me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m asking you what this is, what are we doing here?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Seeing you tonight with that dickhead was all I thought about while eating that churrasco and listening to Jay’s dumb jokes. And if that’s against some unspoken rule, I need to know.”

You gulped down a heavy bubble of air. It was now or never. Choose to either lose the guy you had spent so much time with by keeping your feelings to yourself or risk him breaking your heart by being vulnerable.

“I don’t want you going on dates with anyone else.” You beginning with that wasn’t perfect, but you were out of ideas.

He nodded. “Okay.”

“Sunghoon’s a friend, but you’re my best friend. And you make me feel like nobody else ever has.” Your lip quivered. “I feel like an idiot for not saying it before, but I’ve liked you since the second Jay introduced all of us to you. And maybe all you want out of this is exclusive sex and I’m even more of an idiot for saying all of this but—”

Jake caught your mouth in a perfect kiss, effectively shutting you up. A tear passed between your lips, but he was all you tasted. He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes bright and expression full of mirth. “You’re a beautiful idiot, but still an idiot for not realizing I feel the same..”

You gasped. Grabbing his shirt, you pulled him back in hungrily.

The subsequent kisses and touches were ripe with the things you didn’t know how to say in words but could easily express with your body. Every kiss on his jaw told him how enraptured he made you feel. Each pass of your hands exploring his naked skin expressed why you saw nobody but him in the most crowded room. And when you took him into your mouth, you hoped Jake knew why it was so easy to fall for him and want nobody else.

“Just like that,” he said, tenderly grabbing your hair as you stroked what you couldn’t fit past your lips.

It didn’t last long. Jake pulled you in his arms and said, “I want to be inside you.”

Jake held you as you sunk down onto him. Your legs were wrapped around his waist as he sat on the edge of the bed, rocking his hips up into you. No matter how many times you had sex, it still felt incredible feeling all of him fitting around the spaces inside of you. You wished he could occupy them forever.

“Fuck,” you exclaimed, clutching the hair at the nape of his neck. Your bodies were slick, foreheads touching but slippery from perspiration.

But it didn’t matter how loud you were being or how sweaty your skin became. All you could focus on was the words that came out of Jake’s mouth. “God, I love you so much.”

It didn’t make you slow down, instead riding him faster and kissing him fervently in response. You mewled into his mouth, feeling yourself coming undone quickly.

“I’m gonna come,” you announced.

“Right there with you, sweetheart. Come with me,” he said, and so you did. You felt the warmth of him inside of you in tandem with the downfall of your orgasm, siphoning every drop until you were spent.

When you were lying next to each other, however, you remembered those three little words that slipped from his mouth.

“You said you loved me,” you stated in post-coitus bliss, covering half of your face with your comforter.

“So what if I did?” He was glowing, and it only made you smile harder. “So what if I do?”

You smirked and pecked his lips sweetly, nipping his bottom lip. “I love you too, you goof.”

You woke up next to each other that morning, both in a euphoric daze despite your fatigue. You also took into account how you now held the title of Jake’s girlfriend, a majority of the reason why you were a thousand leagues above cloud nine. Jake showed his joy in the form of his tongue pressed to your clit.

But it didn’t last for long.

You weren’t fast enough to cover yourself when Jay barged in asking whether or not you had seen Jake at all. Little did he know he would find his best friend in the last place he ever expected.

Which led to now, your brother interrogating the two of you like you committed the worst crime humanly possible. In a way, you could see why he would think such a thing.

“So you kiss my sister—” Jay starts.

You cut him off, grabbing Jake’s hand. “I kissed him first.”

“Then you decide to hook up in my car.”

“It was actually my car.” Jake counters, squeezing your fingers with his own.

“And now I find you guys here in your room”—Jay looks directly at you—“just doing whatever the fuck you were doing before I came in.” His face is red from the shock. “How long has this been going on?”

“Six months,” Jake says.

Jay takes a deep breath of air into his lungs, his body rising and falling at a rapid rate. He’s probably grateful your parents can’t hear him yelling. Otherwise they’d come in and ask more invasive questions while you’re not in the position to answer them, half naked and all.

“And where was I while you guys were fucking behind my back?” Jay asks, darting his eyes between the both of you.

“Hanging out between Dahyun’s legs?” You hypothesize, throwing your other hand in the air. “How the hell are we supposed to remember?”

“And you expect me to believe you kissed his scrawny ass first?” Jay asks you.

“Dude, you’ve seen me shirtless,” Jake remarks, rolling his eyes.

“True, but it’s not much of a show, bro.”

“Seriously, this is not the point!” You yell, placing your face in your hands.

“Yes it is! You’re my sister!”

“And she’s my girlfriend,” Jake interrupts, “so you need to get your head out of your ass and stop acting like she’s not capable of taking care of herself.”

Jake stands up to Jay, the two of them face to face with each other in a way you expected when your relationship came out of the shadows. You don’t want Jay to feel betrayed, but at the same time, it will kill you if Jake gets hurt trying to stick up for you.

“My priority will always be looking out for my family.” Jay turns to you, disappointment clear as day in his eyes. “No matter how I’ve shown it, I didn’t expect to be branded the bad guy for wanting to protect you.”

Jay slams the door on his way out. Tears prick your eyes, silence permeating the bedroom.

Jake sits back down next to you and places a few kisses on the curve of your shoulder. “Believe it or not, but I think he took it better than I thought he would.”

“He hates me,” you sob.

“He doesn’t hate you. Maybe me, but never you.” Jake takes your hand and kisses the inside of your palm, tucking it gingerly between his fingers. “Nobody could ever hate you.”

“I need to fix this, though.” You swiftly kiss Jake’s lips before standing up to get dressed, throwing on a pair of gym shorts and one of his shirts you stole. When you go to Jay’s room, it’s empty. But you hear the faint notes of a guitar from somewhere on the first floor of the house.

You walk down the stairs to find Jay strumming his favorite Yamaha in the living room, the one your father brought home from a trip to Japan for Jay as his graduation present. You step towards his spot on the couch quietly, but he’s already too adept at sensing your presence. He stops playing but says nothing.

“Hey,” you say.

“Don’t.” Jay’s voice is gruff. “Don’t ‘hey’ me right now.”

“Well, if you’re looking for an apology, I’m not going to give you one.”

The two of you are silent, unsure where to take the conversation next. What was there to say? Yes, you felt guilty for keeping Jay in the dark, but either way, the situation would hurt him. His best friend and his younger sister falling in love is not ideal, but feelings couldn’t be fought. All the same, the deceit sat in your stomach like a stone, begging to be thrown away.

You sigh and sit down on the love-seat, adjacent to Jay’s spot on the couch. “I really like him, Seongie,” you confess. “No. I, actually—I love him.”

Jay looks directly at you for the first time, his eyes a bit puffy. “Are you happy?”

“What?”

“Are you happy? Does he treat you well?”

You laugh. “I mean we’ve only been a couple for about 12 hours, so—”

“You know what I mean, asshat.” The two of you share a laugh together, the mood much lighter than before. “Do you see a future with him?”

You nod. “Yeah, I do.”

“Then I can’t get in between that. I just wish one of you would’ve fucking said something.”

“And I would’ve, but you know Jaeyun.”

Jay nods. “He’s a wimp.”

“No,” you shake your head, smiling. “He just didn’t want to hurt you either. He loves you, and I love you, too.” You run a hand through your hair, contemplating your next words. “I’m just not a baby anymore, Jongseong. I know how to handle things.”

Jay nods, sniffling. “I know. It’s just…hard.”

“What is?”

He puts his guitar by his side. Clapping his hands together, he tries to brush off whatever emotion is surfacing. “It’s nothing, I don’t know. Stupid, probably.”

You move positions to sit closer to your brother, placing a hand on his knee. “Nothing you say to me could ever be stupid.”

He knocks you in the shoulder with his fist lightly. “It’s just—when did you get so grown up? You gotta stop doing that.”

“If I did, I’d be dead.”

“True.” Jay chuckles. “I’m sorry for freaking out.”

“I’m sorry for keeping it from you. And I hope you and Jaeyun can talk, too.”

“We will. For now, I’m just glad we did.”

Nodding, you open your arms for a hug, a hug that Jay gladly accepts. It’s a tight one that encompasses both a white flag of retreat and a sincere love for you that you forget to remember sometimes in the midst of his teasing and admonishment. You now know, more than ever, it’s his way of protecting you and proving he cares.

And you’re grateful to have both him and now Jake by your side through all your successes and slip-ups.

“You don’t seriously think I’m okay with you wearing that dress again now that you have a boyfriend, right,” Jay asks. “I’m even more against it because Jake will have a heart attack.”

You chuckle and twirl in the mirror, checking the back of your dress to make sure it’s sitting right on you. “He thought I looked pretty in it the first time.”

“Well now, he’s not worried about you looking pretty. He’s worried about other douchebags checking you out.” Jay flips the page of his book, trying to feign a nonchalant expression. “I’m just saying, he’s still my best friend. I know things.”

You poke your tongue out at your brother. The doorbell rings and you rush to answer, your heart beating at a vigorous pace in your chest.

Once you open the door, Jake’s standing there with a bouquet of flowers and a lopsided grin on his face. When he sees your dress, however, his smile falters a fraction.

“Oh my god, Jay was right!”

“I usually am,” Jay yells from his space in the sitting room armchair.

Jake looks confused, but the realization dawns on him in a flash. “No, you look beautiful. It’s just…a bit short, don’t you think?”

You pout, crossing your arms. “I spent so much time getting ready, Jae.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He takes his free hand and rests it on your hip. “And everyone will be able to see that. I just don’t want to have to fight anyone off at the restaurant.”

You giggle. Going in for an impromptu kiss, you smell the traces of his cologne. The scent could make your knees buckle, but you try to stay confident and lull your boyfriend into submission. “I’ll only be looking at you. And I can defend myself just fine, baby.”

Jake’s bottom lip juts out. “So, I can’t convince you to change?”

You shake your head, grinning.

Jay sneaks up behind you, making you gasp. “If she isn’t gonna listen to her brother, she’s definitely not gonna listen to you, man.”

Jay and Jake exchange a handshake. You’re relieved their relationship has recovered from the reveal of your relationship, but you know that means they have the potential to gang up on you more out of their misguided sense of protection.

“I have the advantage though. She’s in love with me,” Jake sing-songs, kissing you on the cheek after doing so.

“Regardless,” you say, “I’m wearing the dress.”

Jay rolls his eyes. “Just change, for fuck’s sake.”

Jake nods. “Pretty please?”

“Not a chance in hell, boys.”

#jake sim x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #enhypen x reader #jake sim fic #sim jaeyun fic #enhypen fic #sim jaeyun smut #enhypen smut #jake sim smut

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creamflix · 19 days ago

Text

UNSCRIPTED — toji fushiguro x female reader [chapter 1/5]

summary: you’re a faceless author of scandalous smut — great at writing steamy scenes but totally clueless about real-life romance (and with no one to match your freak). enter toji fushiguro, a hot stranger you (accidentally) throw up on during a drunken night out. surprise! he’s also the future voice actor for your smutty novel’s main character. can you survive the awkwardness of your disastrous meet-cute while keeping your identity (and dignity) a secret? welcome to the chaos of your own erotic fantasy romcom!

content warning & tags: (erotic) voice artist! toji, (smut) writer! reader, smutty content!! [will be added over the course of the series], sort of workplace romance, secret/anon identity, slight social media au, meet-cute, virgin!reader, single dad dilf! toji, kid! megumi, strangers to lovers (?), she fell first but he fell harder, mentions of other characters (satoru gojo, suguru geto, megumi fushiguro, shoko eiri, brief mentions of ryomen sukuna)

notes: hi friends !! wow, been a hot min since i wrote something of this caliber. feels good to be back in biz ;D did you all miss persephone! suguru? because there's a LOT of him here >_< i really wanted to publish this as a oneshot but....tumblr hates me so now it's gonna be a chaptered series! oh , joy! ps @nappingmoon i got u bae, this one is for you.

read on ao3! ● series masterlist

➤ related au: persephone [business tycoon! sukuna x reader]

you never really set out to be the face of smut-lit.

in fact, you weren’t even really a face at all — just a “faceless” author penning scandalous stories for fans who devoured them, and haters who, well… tried to eat you alive.

you’d started out innocently enough, scribbling down your little fantasies and tropes that no self-respecting romance book would touch. then one day, a friend dared you to post one on booktok.

you thought, "fuck it" and uploaded a snippet of your latest brainchild: a steamy billionaire x star-crossed chef fic called hunger games: not that kind of hungerer. it was, admittedly, extra spicy.

and oh, did the internet have thoughts.

soon, your comments section and dm’s became a battleground for all opinions on “what qualifies as literature.” gems included:

who even writes this crap? did a middle schooler steal her mom’s laptop? i can feel my brain cells self-destructing as i read this 💀 girl hasn’t even been within a mile radius of a dick and it SHOWS

you'd had to admit… the last comment was right. but hey, they only added to the fuel.

like moths to a flame, they kept coming back, and the trolling just made your followers skyrocket. a lot of people secretly liked the outrageousness, the drama, and the absolute audacity of it all. before long, your books were trending, and you were raking in numbers (and dollars) most “serious” authors could only dream of.

soon, you found yourself the subject of headlines you never thought you’d see:

the faceless queen of spice: how one unknown author is reshaping romance. trolled online, loved in secret—author sells millions in ebook downloads. social media says she has no idea what she’s talking about, but her bank account says otherwise.

and the kicker?

you’d never had sex with anyone, let alone…well, rocked worlds like your characters.

here you were, a smut writer with zero real-life experience, who’d single-handedly created booktok’s, bookstagram and hell, even the people down at twitter's guilty pleasure.

but the day big publishers started knocking on your door, it was surreal, to say the least.

you’d been fully prepared for the anonymous online fame — hell, you’d leaned into it, posting “faceless author life” videos and doing question and answer sessions where you dropped zero identifying details, save for some vague hand gestures and blurred-out backgrounds. but now, major publishing houses wanted in on the action.

“we think your stories have broad market appeal,” one exec had said on a zoom call, trying to make “billionaire mafia love quadrangle” sound dignified. “if we could get them on shelves, we’d reach an audience beyond booktok. international appeal is the goal here!”

suddenly, your filthy, albeit occasionally cringey, tales were going global. they got translated into french (where your enemies-to-lovers series got a fancy new title: l’amour et la haine). your spicy chef saga was reborn in italian as sapore di te, which roughly translated to taste of you (and made you blush, honestly).

and when your personal favorite, the billionaire’s forbidden touch, hit the japanese market, they titled it 禁断の夜 (which… you didn’t even want to know the translation of, because you knew it was even worse than the original).

you had to admit, though, seeing these books spread worldwide made your head spin. what started as a joke online was now somehow sitting next to classics in international bookstores, becoming a hot commodity for fans everywhere.

but the cherry on top?

oh, that came when you opened an email from none other than gojo-sonic, the world-renowned audio company best known for its highly specialized audiobook recordings. they’d taken smut literature to the next level, hiring voice actors who sounded like they were in the room with you, all breathy whispers and seductive baritones. people had raved that these audiobooks were “too real” — like they’d been recorded in a closed room with dim lights and a whole lot of… commitment.

they offered you a multi-million dollar deal to turn your books into experiences.

one of your friends, absolutely losing it, texted you as soon as they heard the news:

homegirl [5:21 pm]: “OMG OMG so you’re gonna do it right?? u realize this means ppl will be hearing ur lil virgin brain’s fantasies out loud in their headphones right” you [5:21 pm]: “no kidding. i’m freaking out. this feels illegal.” homegirl [5:22 pm]: “but u gotta!! pls this is ICONIC.” you [5:24 pm]: “they’re giving me millions. you think i’m saying no? lmao.”

it still felt surreal that soon, the whole world would hear your books come to life with professional voice actors — ones who knew exactly how to tease and breathe and make listeners feel like they were right there.

“bring my fantasies to life, huh?” you muttered to yourself, flipping through the contract that would secure your financial future, all because of your fictional men and their, uh, moves.

who the hell were you to say no to that?

it was surreal enough to get an email from gojo-sonic, but now, sitting across from the ceo himself, gojo satoru, you were starting to wonder if this whole experience was some fever dream.

the man was stunning in an obnoxious, immaculate way. snowy hair, piercing blue eyes, and sunglasses balanced on his head like a headband. and, okay, you had to admit: it was a little weird that he’d named his company after himself — though, frankly, it just fit.

you tried not to laugh when he introduced himself. gojo satoru, ceo of gojo-sonic. the narcissism was off the charts, but so was his charm. as a quick google search before the meeting had revealed, gojo sonic had an impeccable reputation, and there was apparently not a single scandal tied to its name.

“nice to meet you,” you said, shaking his hand and trying to keep your cool. “kinda surprised a guy is running a… company like this. no offense.”

“none taken!” he replied, leaning back in his chair with an easy grin. “if i’m honest, i’m probably the last guy anyone would expect here. but,” he shrugged, “it works. my employees say i’m a ‘girl’s girl,’ whatever that means.”

the way he said it so nonchalantly made you smirk. apparently, the term wasn’t a throwaway nickname, either; the gojo-sonic gossip mill painted him as the absolute dream boss. rumor had it he’d given his whole office a free day off because his assistant had been dumped, and when a writer complained about unisex bathrooms making her uncomfortable, he’d personally had a “feminine touch” added to every single stall, complete with pink hand soap and luxurious lotions. he was kind, considerate, a man who just got it.

“people say i’m probably gay,” he added, laughing as if that was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “and you know what? let ‘em think what they want.” he gave you a wink. “as long as they keep buying the goods, i couldn’t care less.”

honestly? the guy made a point. did it matter who he was taking home at the end of the day? not at all, as long as your bank account kept racking up zeros.

“speaking of,” he continued, “we’ve got the full studio ready for tomorrow. you’ll meet the voice actors, go over a few sections, and give input as needed. think of it like a live theater production, except it’s your book.”

“oh, i get to… watch them record?” you asked, wondering how mortifying it might be to sit there, watching actors give their all to lines like, “you’re mine tonight, darling.”

yeah, you’d written it, but watching someone breathe life into it was a different level of… embarrassment.

“even better,” gojo grinned, looking far too amused by your nervousness, “you’ll get to guide them. they’ll take direction from you — however you want the line delivered, that’s how they’ll say it.”

“you mean i can… like… make suggestions? on delivery?”

“exactly!” he said with a small clap. “we want it to be perfect. i’ve already arranged for our top voice actor, toji fushiguro, to voice your main character.”

toji fushiguro?

if gojo-sonic was the industry’s top company, toji was the crown jewel of voice acting. the guy was a legend.

he had that smoky, velvet tone that could turn a mundane grocery list into a full-on romance scene. he was also notoriously elusive; some people waited months to get him to even consider their projects. and you — the virgin author who’d stumbled into fame thanks to trolls and booktok — had him voicing your main character?

“wait, toji fushiguro is doing this?” you asked, jaw practically on the floor.

gojo chuckled, looking far too pleased with your reaction. “yep! i think you two are going to work great together. he’s intense but flexible; really good at taking feedback.”

you tried to imagine giving feedback to toji fushiguro of all people.

“um, maybe say ‘you’re mine’ with more… conviction?”

“can you sound a bit more possessive on that line?”

“i, uh…” you managed, trying to swallow your nerves. “okay. yeah. sounds… good.”

“great! i think you’ll be amazed. toji’s professionalism is unmatched, and he’ll bring exactly the level of…” Gojo paused, grinning, “intensity you need to really make your character come to life.”

“good luck tomorrow! i’ll make sure everything’s set up perfectly,” gojo had assured you with a big grin as you left the office. “don’t stress about a thing. our identities are always kept top secret here. toji’s included! he’s never done a face reveal, and your privacy is just as ironclad.”

oh god. tomorrow, you were really going to sit there while toji fushiguro acted out lines you’d written on a whim in your pajamas.

sure, not stressing sounded like a logical plan. but after that surreal conversation — and the realization that tomorrow morning, you’d be face-to-face with the one and only toji fushiguro, hearing him breathe life into your raunchiest fantasies — you did what any responsible, mature adult would do.

you headed straight to the nearest bar and got sloshed.

by the time you were three cocktails deep, the reality of tomorrow’s “firsts” hit you like a ton of bricks. first real direction on an audiobook, first time meeting a voice actor, first time dealing with your own steaminess out loud, and — oh god — the cherry on top, it was toji fushiguro himself.

sure, you thought, sipping from your fourth drink and trying not to scream as lana del rey sings “it’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you,” i might be slightly freaking out.

another cocktail slid your way. you squinted, unsure if you'd ordered it or if the bartender was just reading your general mood, because yeah, you did look like someone who needed another round.

“tough night?”

“tough tomorrow.” you swirled your drink, laughing to yourself. “i mean… you ever written a, uh, totally inappropriate novel and had to watch a famous guy turn it into audio?”

“…can’t say that i have.”

you shrugged, downing a bit more of the drink, when the song on the speakers switched to avril lavigne’s complicated. fitting, given that your life had just become exactly that.

“why’d you have to go and make things so complicated?” avril sang, like she knew.

the bartender, apparently used to the types who showed up for existential crises alone, leaned against the counter. “sounds like big stuff tomorrow, then. what kind of work do you do, anyway?”

“oh, just… smutty novels,” you said, letting it slip before you could stop yourself. “just… page after page of absolutely shameless, absurd filth. and now i’m, y’know, supposed to direct the guy. to make it sound like he’s really, um, in the moment.”

the bartender chuckled, raising a brow. “sounds intense.”

“you have no idea.” you sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “he’s this insanely talented voice actor. i mean, they’ve got toji fushiguro in there, which is like… god. if he knew who i actually was, he’d probably laugh.”

why’d you have to go and make things so complicated? avril continued wailing, her words your accidental anthem.

“well, whatever happens,” the bartender said, passing you a glass of water with a grin, “sounds like you’re about to have a pretty interesting morning.”

“i’ll drink to that,” you muttered, clinking your cocktail glass against the water. you downed it, hoping that somehow, it might chase the nerves away.

and as everytime we touch, i get this feeling started blasting on the speakers, you couldn’t help but shake your head with a groan. if there was a playlist made for romantic embarrassment, it was definitely playing tonight.

in your half-sloshed state, it seemed like a good idea to turn to the stranger who’d just sauntered up to the bar — a ridiculously hot stranger, tall with dark hair, and a scar slashing right across his lip. it was the kind of look that would’ve inspired an entire chapter in one of your books, but as of right now? it was just inspiring some truly regrettable choices.

“goodness gracious, great balls of fire,” you muttered to yourself, just loud enough to catch his attention, which felt smooth, in your totally buzzed opinion. so, of course, you swung around on your stool, plastering on what you hoped was an alluring smile.

oh god, here we go. “hey there, handsome…” you paused, hiccuping “… you come here often?”

the stranger raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, leaning an elbow against the bar with a smirk that could kill. “depends,” he said, voice low and rough. “you, uh, always this friendly after a few drinks?”

oh god.

but you couldn’t stop now.

you were committed.

you were bold.

with all the poise of a drunk giraffe, you propped your elbow on the bar and leaned in closer, pointing a finger at his chest — totally unintentionally, because your depth perception was off by, oh, about a mile. “well, what can i say,” you replied, attempting a sultry grin. “good-lookin’ guys like you… don’t come around often enough, mister.”

“it’s like i’m drunk off your love,” played from the speakers, not helping your case at all.

oh god, this was actually happening.

he actually laughed, a warm, deep chuckle, as he watched you struggle through whatever pickup line was about to escape your lips.

he tilted his head, that smirk turning up a notch. “should i be flattered?”

“you should!” you exclaimed, with a bit too much enthusiasm. “you’re like… i dunno, like one of my… you look like a… a fictional character.”

smooth, real smooth.

“oh yeah?” his smirk widened. “so, what am i, a prince?”

“more like…” you bit your lip, trying to focus, “an antihero with a… tragic past and just enough softness in his heart to make him dangerous in all the right ways.”

he looked you up and down, bemusement clear in his eyes. “dangerous in the right ways? is that your type?”

you gave a shaky wink, nearly missing because the world was swimming a bit. “maybe.”

he chuckled, his voice all rich and velvety, and leaned in closer. “so… you’re here alone? i mean, besides all the fictional men you’re envisioning.”

“for now,” you replied, trying to sound mysterious, but it just came out as a bit… wobbly.

the bartender set the stranger’s drink down with a raised eyebrow, and he took a sip, watching you with amused interest. “you know, maybe you should slow down before you scare all the good guys away.”

“oh, trust me,” you replied, hiccuping again. “i don’t scare easy.”

he shook his head, clearly entertained, and you felt yourself glowing under his gaze. you were about to continue — just as soon as the world stopped spinning — when you felt the slightest bit queasy, your stomach reminding you that you’d had one cocktail too many.

the stranger’s amused smirk softened. “you alright there?”

“i’m…” you swallowed. “perfectly fine. just, you know… making sure you’re… getting the full effect of my…” you barely managed the word “…rizz.”

he laughed outright this time, low and warm, like he genuinely couldn’t believe you were real. “is that so? lucky me.”

it was all going so well — okay, not well, but you were holding your own, kind of. you had him laughing, after all, which for someone with approximately zero charisma was an accomplishment! but then the first chords of firework by katy perry blared through the speakers, and as if on cue, your stomach decided to join in the grand finale.

“do you ever feel like a plastic bag,” katy crooned, but for you, it was more like a “do you ever feel like you’re about to ruin your night by barfing on a hot stranger?”

before you could process what was happening, the tequila-fueled fireworks decided to erupt all over this guy’s very expensive-looking shoes.

oh god. oh god.

you looked up, mortified, to find him staring down at his shoes, eyebrows raised. wow, would you look at the time?

run.

“oh… oh no. i… i’m so sorry, i swear this never happens.”

he raised a brow, still looking somewhere between amused and horrified. “well, that’s… comforting?”

you grabbed a napkin, fumbling, still buzzing enough to not know if you should laugh, cry, or just make a run for it.

“guess that’s, uh, one way to make an impression,” he murmured, lips twitching in a smirk even as he assessed the disaster on his shoes.

“oh god. really, i’m… i’m so sorry.” you dabbed helplessly at his shoes with a cocktail napkin, somehow making things worse. “if it helps, i… i normally only vomit on hot guys.”

he chuckled, though you were sure it was mostly at you, and shook his head. “well, it’s one hell of an icebreaker.”

“baby, you’re a firework,” katy sang passionately in the background, but you were already ready to crawl under the bar and disappear forever.

you were surprised — actually, you were shocked — that the stranger hadn’t ditched you after the whole public-vomiting-on-his-shoes fiasco. instead, somehow, he was still right there, leaned in close and casually sipping his drink, just as much a mess as you were. hours had passed, and you’d been rambling about anything and everything, lost in an alcohol-fueled bubble that had turned the night into something you’d never have dreamed of.

maybe it was the booze, or maybe it was the guy’s ridiculously calm attitude, but you’d opened up about your career, the absurdity of writing spicy novels as a faceless author, and even your terror about tomorrow. he’d listened with a smirk, offering the occasional snarky remark or grunt of approval. in return, he’d told you a bit about himself too — well, at least, you thought he did. at some point, the details got hazy.

“so, what do you do?” you asked, squinting at him like it was going to make his face stop swimming in your vision.

he shrugged, swirling his drink and giving a lopsided grin. “something kinda like… acting. you know, nothing glamorous.” there was a hint of amusement there, like he was in on a joke you weren’t.

you squinted harder, your mind pulling up images of random professions. “oh, so like… theater? or like, movies? or wait — commercials? are you one of those guys that has to pretend he’s in love with a bowl of soup?”

he let out a deep laugh, and the sound sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. “sure, something like that. though i’d like to think i’m a bit more convincing than a soup guy.”

you grinned, leaning in closer, your curiosity fully piqued despite your state. “convincing, huh? so you’re a good actor, then?”

“i do my best,” he said, voice low, that amused glint in his eye again.

“you have to be really good to make people believe in, like, totally unrealistic things, y’know?” you babbled, waving your hand. “like, imagine trying to voice —” you cut yourself off, feeling a hint of embarrassment as you remembered why you’d gotten so sloshed in the first place. the irony of tomorrow, and how this entire conversation felt like it was straight out of one of your own stories.

but before you could get too in your head about it, he tilted his head, looking genuinely interested. “voice what? i’m curious, princess.”

princess. the nickname sent a bolt of something dangerously warm straight through you, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “oh, nothing…” you said, waving him off. “just, you know… the usual. people who… um, make people fall in love with their voice.”

“and what if i told you,” he leaned in even closer, smirking as if he’d just had the best idea ever, “that i could probably do that?”

you rolled your eyes, not believing him one bit. “oh really? think you could pull it off?”

“depends,” he said with a shrug. “what kinda character am i playing?”

you didn’t realize it, but you’d inched even closer, like you were hanging on his every word. “someone… someone rough around the edges,” you started, your voice dropping, completely lost in the moment, “but with a softness underneath. someone who could make the world stop with just a whisper…”

he smirked, eyes never leaving yours, and for a second, you felt like he was taking every word way too seriously. “i think i could manage that.”

you blinked, feeling a blush rise.

this stranger had charisma — like, the kind of charisma you’d thought only existed in your characters.

oh god, maybe you should write him into your next story. you shook yourself, blinking the daydreams away just as he started talking again.

“... and that’s why,” he was saying, “there’s a bit of an art to saying things just right. people think it’s all about the words, but it’s the way you say them that makes it real, y’know?”

you nodded, trying to focus on his words as the room spun just a bit. “so you’re telling me, it’s all in the delivery?”

“exactly.” his gaze dropped to your lips, and he smirked, like he knew exactly what he was doing. “even the… dirtiest lines sound good if you say ’em the right way.”

oh no. that dangerous warmth was back.

somewhere between his intense gaze and that slow, lopsided smirk, dancing queen by abba blared through the bar speakers, jarring you out of your tipsy trance. the upbeat, disco-infused rhythm filled the room, all but laughing at the “moment” you thought you were having with this too-hot-for-reality stranger.

was this a moment? or were you just ridiculously drunk? did he even have a name? or were you just too far gone to have bothered asking?

“you can dance, you can jive,” abba sang, practically mocking you as you stared, wide-eyed, at the man across from you, his scarred lip twisted in a little grin as he watched you piece it all together. he must’ve seen the dawning realization on your face, because he chuckled, reaching for his drink again.

“something wrong, princess?” he asked, leaning forward with a glint of amusement.

oh, great. i’ve already been promoted to ‘princess’ by a guy i might not know the name of. you were seconds away from facepalming.

“uh, nothing,” you said, waving a hand as casually as you could manage. “just, uh, thinking how ironic it is that dancing queen is playing while… we’re, you know…”

“... having a moment?” he teased, clearly enjoying himself.

“well,” you cleared your throat, cheeks blazing, “if you can call me drunkenly staring at you while abba serenades us a ‘moment.’”

“hey, it’s a solid soundtrack choice,” he replied, looking like he was suppressing a laugh. “besides, don’t pretend this isn’t kinda perfect.”

“you think dancing queen is perfect for this?”

he shrugged, sipping his drink. “come on, you’re hammered, i’m here keeping you company, and we’re both, what… living in the moment?” he quirked a brow, his smirk widening as he eyed you, like he was daring you to argue.

and then, maybe out of pure liquid courage, or maybe because the absurdity was too much, you laughed. “yeah, living the moment… with some guy whose name i don’t even know.”

“toji,” he said, offering his hand with a lazy grin, like he’d just handed you a secret.

“toji,” you echoed, shaking his hand. he held on for a second longer than necessary, his gaze never leaving yours.

oh, this guy was trouble, and you were in so deep.

“and you?” he asked, still holding your hand.

you barely managed to whisper your name, but it came out like a sigh, and he repeated it back like it was something precious. “well then,” he said, smirking, “guess that makes two dancing queens tonight.”

“toji…” you muttered, the name slipping off your tongue again as you tried to place it. there was something familiar about it, like you’d heard it before, but in your tequila-drenched state, nothing was sticking.

toji, toji… where had you heard that name?

he cocked an eyebrow, clearly amused as you stared at him like he was the world’s most frustrating puzzle. “something on your mind?”

“n-no,” you stammered, then immediately backpedaled. “wait, actually, yes. toji, right?”

he nodded, a playful gleam in his eye. “that’s the one.”

“toji… toji…” you repeated, squinting at him as if a clearer view would magically connect the dots. and then, it hit you — toji fushiguro.

the voice actor who would be bringing your spicy, shamelessly dramatic main character to life.

the same guy you were supposed to meet tomorrow, the guy who was probably used to making everyone’s knees buckle with just a whisper.

“no way…” you whispered, clutching your head, and you could practically feel the blush creeping up your cheeks. “you — you’re… that toji?”

he gave a slight tilt of his head, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “what, surprised that i could be both hot and talented?”

you sputtered, trying to backtrack and failing miserably. “no! i mean, yes, but i just — tomorrow — you’re… you’re the guy who’s voicing my main character?”

he leaned back with a smirk, clearly enjoying the whirlwind of emotions he was putting you through. “didn’t think the universe would give you a sneak preview tonight, huh?”

your fuzzy brain struggled to compute this twist of fate. you were drunk, mortified, and beyond flustered, sitting in a bar with the man who’d soon be giving voice to all your filthy, shameless words. this was almost too much.

“oh my god,” you muttered, sinking back in your seat. “i literally threw up on my main character’s shoes.”

toji let out a hearty laugh, patting your shoulder. “hey, if anything, i’d say it’s on-brand for the kind of night you’d write.”

just as you were processing the sheer, ridiculous insanity of the situation, a fresh wave of nausea hit you like a freight train. before you could even react, you leaned forward and… splattered the floor with a decidedly not-dignified stream of bile. this time, it was almost cinematic, complete with a dramatic gagging sound that had you doubling over.

you watched in horror as you once again spewed your insides onto the floor, narrowly missing toji’s shoes but definitely adding a new layer to the already mortifying scene.

you’d probably just hit rock bottom.

“oh, god,” you groaned, covering your mouth with your hand as the bile burned your throat. “i swear… i’m not normally like this.”

toji chuckled, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck as he handed you a stack of napkins the bartender had generously supplied. “i’m starting to think i’m just a little too overwhelming for you, princess.”

you shot him a sheepish look as you wiped your mouth. overwhelming was an understatement.

“yeah, maybe we can leave that out of tomorrow’s team introductions,” you mumbled, trying desperately to pull yourself together.

toji chuckled, tossing a few more napkins your way. “no judgment here. it’s a rough night for a first ‘meet-cute,’ but hey, you’re nothing if not memorable.”

you gripped the napkin, willing yourself to hold it together, at least until you could make a semi-dignified exit. “i don’t even want to know what story you’ll tell people about this.”

toji just laughed, completely unbothered, as if getting vomited on was a regular night for him. “don’t worry, i’ll keep it discreet.” his voice dipped, lowering to a murmur. “for a girl with secrets, i figure you’d appreciate that.”

he lifted his drink and gave you a small toast. “to first meetings — and unforgettable nights. and hey, maybe tomorrow, you’ll surprise me and keep it down.”

oh, god, you thought, as you attempted to bury yourself in your napkin. if only i could crawl under the bar and hide forever.

normally, you wouldn’t wake up with “dancing queen” stuck in your head, but as you nursed the remnants of a truly terrible hangover, it felt almost... pleasant? the upbeat melody cut through the fog of your brain, and you couldn’t help but hum along, even if the lyrics felt like a cruel reminder of your embarrassing escapades from the night before.

“you can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life...”

wait, why dancing queen of all songs? you squinted at your alarm clock, your heart racing as the memories started flooding back like a poorly written rom-com. oh.

OH.

your eyes widened as you bolted out of bed with a speed that could make an olympic runner blush, frantically throwing on whatever clothes you could find — did you seriously still have a piece of glitter from last night stuck in your hair? gross! but no time for a shower; you had a meeting to get to at gojo-sonic, and you were about to meet — erm, remeet — toji fushiguro.

“ooh, see that girl, watch that scene, digging the dancing queen...”

as the lyrics blared in your head like an incessant movie soundtrack, you dashed out the door, praying you’d catch a cab in time. the universe couldn’t possibly let you walk into this meeting looking like a hot mess — especially when your main character's voice was waiting on the other side.

“you’re a tease you turn ‘em on…leave ‘em burning and then you’re gone…”

you rolled your eyes at your own ridiculousness. who cared if you’d practically thrown up on the guy? all you had to do was survive your own personal dance-off with fate and hope toji didn’t remember the lovely little details from last night.

you took a deep breath, determined to channel all the confidence you could muster. today was going to be great. right?

as you walked into the meeting room, gojo practically huffed an air of relief. you couldn’t help but think it was a little dramatic — like, it’s just a meeting. you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the last remnants of your hangover and the lingering embarrassment of last night’s vomit-venture.

the room was brightly lit, filled with a few familiar faces, including toji, who was leaning casually against a table with that annoyingly charming grin plastered on his face.

great. you’d somehow forgotten just how hot he was in the light of day.

toji’s presence made your stomach flutter and flip, but you shoved that feeling down — this was business, after all.

you scanned the room and spotted gojo-sonic’s most valued investor suguru geto on a screen in the corner, his hair tied back and eyes sharp as he joined the meeting online. wow, great first impression! with a sudden wave of panic, you could almost hear the dancing queen lyrics mocking you in the back of your mind. what’s next, bursting into song?

“hey, look who finally made it!” toji said, amusement dancing in his eyes. perfect. if he was going to make light of your grand entrance, you had to think fast to steer the conversation away from the disaster that was last night.

“sorry for keeping you all waiting,” you replied, forcing a smile that hopefully didn’t look too forced. “i had... a crazy night.”

toji raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “crazy night, huh? did you bring us any stories?”

you shot him a warning glance, your heart racing as you internally pleaded with him not to say anything that could ruin your career. thankfully, he just chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning back, letting the moment hang in the air without any revealing comments.

“i think we’d all like to hear that,” suguru said, his tone teasing as he adjusted the camera. “but let’s save the fun stuff for later, right? we’ve got work to do.”

you nodded, grateful for suguru’s timely intervention. “yes, absolutely! so, uh, about the voice work —”

the atmosphere shifted as the others exchanged knowing glances, and you knew you’d have to tread carefully. this meeting was crucial, and you couldn’t let last night’s incident derail everything you’d worked for. with any luck, maybe you could just keep your foot out of your mouth for the rest of the meeting.

toji always knew he was hot.

i mean, how could he not?

with a jawline that could slice bread and a smirk that could charm the pants off anyone, confidence practically dripped off him like a cologne commercial. but the real question was: how to channel this hotness and turn it into something lucrative? great question!

being a single dad to wasn’t easy, and running from odd job to odd job just to scrape enough money for the brat’s school was proving to be tiresome. until one day, a certain gojo satoru decided to drop a bombshell on him.

“toji, you ever think about using that voice of yours for something... more creative?” gojo asked, leaning back in his office chair, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“creative? what, like narrating my life as a sad single dad?” toji replied dryly, rolling his eyes. “because let me tell you, it’s not exactly a page-turner.”

“no, no, hear me out!” gojo insisted, practically bouncing in his seat. “i’m talking about voice acting — specifically, erotic audiobooks. it’s the next big thing!”

toji blinked, momentarily stunned. “you mean to tell me that the former bouncer at an elite club would be voicing erotic audiobooks? saying those weird, cringey lines that women seem to love? you’re insane.”

“think about it! you have the looks, the voice, and the whole mysterious vibe down pat,” gojo urged, waving his hands dramatically. “besides, you need the cash, and i need someone to bring a little... heat to my company.”

“you really think people want to hear me read lines like, ‘take me, you wild beast?’” toji quipped, snorting.

fast forward to his first recording session, where everything seemed to be going smoothly until disaster struck. toji was deep in character, delivering his best sexy voice when — bam! — the bathroom pipe exploded in his tiny flat.

“oh god, yes, just like that —” he started, voice dripping with sultry charm, when suddenly, a muffled splash! interrupted him, followed by megumi’s wail from the other room.

“dad! there’s water everywhere!”

toji cursed under his breath, trying to maintain his composure. “i’m coming! just... give me a second, i’m — ah, it’s getting so hot in here!” he struggled to continue, desperately trying to block out the chaos around him while the sounds of the pipe gushing water filled the audio.

but it turned out hormones took over the technical difficulties, because when the snippet was finally released, women and men of all ages were devouring it like it was the last slice of pizza at a party. it even went viral on tiktok, with cringe-worthy wannabes trying to recreate his sultry lines, failing miserably while toji sat back, amused.

“really? you think you can pull this off?” he chuckled to himself, watching one kid awkwardly mimic him. “nice try, kid. but good luck sounding this good while your mom’s screaming at you for hogging the bathroom.”

because toji wasn’t just a househusband — house father — anymore. he was a household name, and everyone knew him. his rise to fame was a wild ride, but hey, at least now he could afford to get the bathroom fixed — one line at a time.

he could hardly wrap his head around how he’d managed to move out of his tiny, crumbling apartment and into a much better place for him and megumi. it was like waking up one day and realizing he’d accidentally won the lottery. “wait, how did i end up here?” he’d mutter to himself, staring at the pristine walls and polished floors. “and how the hell can i pay megumi’s school fees on time without dodging dirty glares from the accounts office?”

he’d walk into the school, head held high, while megumi proudly puffed out his eight-year-old chest. “my daddy’s an actor!” he’d announce to anyone who would listen. toji couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. i mean, the kid wasn’t wrong. he was acting — acting like he had his life together, at least!

but did his new job stop toji from being a little hoe? oh, hell no.

if anything, the fame went straight to his head — both up and down there, mind you. toji was like a kid in a candy store, and he was using his newfound charm to siphon money from literally every sugar mommy he could find.

and daddies, too, if he was feeling daring.

because people would die to be known as someone “close” to the toji fushiguro.

“oh my god, is that him?” a passerby would whisper, nudging her friend as they walked past toji at a private event.

“i think it is! i heard he’s dating someone famous,” her friend would respond, leaning in as if they were sharing a juicy secret. “i’ve seen him at that new club downtown. he’s just so... magnetic.”

“totally! i mean, if i could get him to call me ‘sweetheart’ just once, i’d die a happy woman,” the first friend would say, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically.

toji would smirk to himself, sipping his drink while casually overhearing their chatter. “yep, you’re right. i’m as available as a 24/7 convenience store,” he’d think, reveling in the attention. "i could probably charm the pants off a rock if i tried."

another group of giggling fans would walk by, whispering amongst themselves, “i met him at that charity event last week! he was so sweet! like, did you see the way he talked to everyone? he’s definitely a heartthrob.”

“sweet? you mean hot, right?” one of them would tease, and they’d all burst into laughter.

“please, if he looked at me, i’d die!” another would declare, all starry-eyed.

toji’s smirk widened. “keep it coming, ladies. i’m just here for the show.” he couldn’t deny it; being the center of attention was intoxicating, and he was loving every second of it.

with a wink and a little wave, he’d keep strutting through life like a runway model, knowing full well he had the power to turn heads and keep wallets open. “who knew being a hot voice actor could be this fun?”

great that you’d ask what toji did with all that sweet, sweet cash! save it all for his brat of a son, of course, even if he wouldn’t admit it. beneath that rugged exterior and playful swagger, he had a soft spot for the little sucker.

just the other week, megumi had been rambling on about wanting a really cool new video game console. “but daddy, alllll my friends have one! it’s so unfair!” he’d whined, big blue eyes practically shimmering with hope. toji had rolled his eyes, trying to act tough, but the moment he saw the kid's face, his heart melted like butter on a hot skillet. “fine, but only if you promise to finish your homework first.”

the next day, megumi had unwrapped a brand-new console, complete with all the latest games, and toji had basked in the sheer delight radiating from his son. “this is the best day ever!” megumi had screamed, wrapping his arms around toji’s waist. “thank you, daddy!”

toji grinned like an idiot, pretending to be unimpressed. “yeah, yeah, don’t go losing it on the first day, alright? and remember, no playing after eight!” he was basically a walking contradiction: a grumpy dad who secretly loved being the cool parent.

then there was that time megumi had been obsessed with this rare action figure from his favorite show. toji had seen the way his son’s eyes lit up every time he spotted it in a store, but it was always sold out. so, naturally, when toji found one online at a steep price, he didn’t hesitate. “i’ll just skip my overpriced rum for a week. totally worth it.”

when megumi had opened the package, he’d literally jumped in the air, screeching like a siren. “no way! you got it for me!?” and toji had played it cool, shrugging his shoulders. “what can i say? your dad’s a generous guy.”

of course, this indulgence didn’t go unnoticed by gojo satoru. the six eyes — er, eyes! — of the man always seemed to be on toji, especially when he noticed his friend was splurging just a little too much on himself — like that new leather jacket that looked ridiculously good on him.

“i need a jacket like that,” gojo had muttered to himself, glancing at his own wardrobe with disappointment.

whenever toji treated himself, gojo would quietly slide a check over to him, nonchalantly muttering, “just a little something for megumi’s school expenses.”

some people would have viewed it as offensive or patronizing, but not toji. he’d always laughed it off, feeling grateful instead. in his mind, gojo was like a guardian angel — “if guardian angels wore sunglasses and had a taste for expensive sweets.” he saw it as gojo looking out for megumi, which made toji’s heart swell with warmth. “who else would want to help raise my kid? might as well accept it.”

“just don’t make a habit of it, alright?” toji would say with a teasing grin. “i don’t need you spoiling him more than i do.”

“too late,” gojo would quip, already plotting ways to sneak more gifts into megumi’s life. “it’s my new hobby.”

so, when gojo casually dropped the bomb that toji would be voicing one of the hottest, trending smut book — “mating with the demon king” or something equally ridiculous — toji shrugged it off. “simple enough job,” he thought. “and it must be good if they came to me for it.”

but when gojo suggested he read the book to get an idea of the material — “just a little prep work,” he’d said with that infuriatingly charming grin — things took a wild turn.

big mistake, toji would later reflect as he flipped through the pages, his eyebrows shooting up higher than a roller coaster. “who writes this stuff?” he muttered, half-laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all.

the content was downright depraved. there were scenes that had him questioning his entire existence.

“‘he thrust into her like a man possessed, each stroke igniting a fire within her’ — what even is that?” he read aloud, only to burst out laughing at the ridiculousness. megumi, playing quietly in the other room, wondered why his daddy was cackling like a madman.

“uh, daddy? why are you reading that out loud?” megumi had peeked in, eyes wide with curiosity. toji quickly scrambled to shut the book. “uh, just… learning about, uh, cooking techniques!” he stammered, trying to play it cool. “you wouldn’t get it, buddy.”

but the laughter continued to bubble out of him, and he couldn’t help but read some of the more ludicrous lines. “‘his lips found her collarbone, trailing heat like a wildfire’ — who even talks like that?” he shook his head, utterly bemused.

by the end of the chapter, he was howling. “‘she gasped as he swept her off her feet and into a world of ecstasy’ — oh please!” toji chortled, clutching his stomach, imagining how this would all sound through a microphone. “my kid is gonna think i’ve lost my goddamn mind.”

but hey, if this job was going to pay the bills, he figured he could endure a little humiliation. “it’s all in a day’s work, right?” he muttered to himself, finally accepting that he was now the voice of “mating with the demon king.”

all that reading really took its toll on toji — physically, mentally, spiritually even. after hours spent tripping over lines like “pressed against the throbbing heat of his desire” (yeah, that one took five tries to get through without laughing), he needed to clear his head. so, he found himself at a bar, halfway through a drink, hoping to numb the embarrassment he’d just endured in the name of rent money.

then stumbles this stranger — a cute, very tipsy stranger who quickly parked herself right next to him and started chatting him up, wide-eyed and slightly unsteady. great, drunk people, he thought, resisting an eyeroll as she grinned at him, looking ready to either start a fight or profess her love.

maybe both.

of course, what are the odds she’d go ahead and throw up on his shoes? yes, his brand-new shoes, because, apparently, the universe had decided that tonight, toji fushiguro would be the world’s personal punching bag. “can’t even get through one drink without some shit happening,” he muttered to himself as she looked up at him with a horrified expression. “we’re off to a great start here, huh?”

after some water and some awkward apologies (mostly her apologizing, mostly him trying not to laugh), they fell into surprisingly decent conversation. she was rambling about her job, the stress, the weird demands — stuff he could sympathize with, honestly.

and that’s when he dropped it, just for fun: “i’m a voice actor.”

her eyes sparkled with recognition — a little too much recognition, actually, which made him narrow his eyes. “wait, what’s your name?” she asked, suddenly all ears.

“toji. toji fushiguro.”

the second he said it, her face went from curious to horrified to... oh yeah, she knew exactly who he was. “wait,” she gasped, putting her hand over her mouth. “you’re... you’re the voice actor for my book.”

toji raised an eyebrow, deadpan.

so this was the writer, the one who wrote all that nonsense he’d been struggling through for days. well, wasn’t that just the cherry on top. not only was this his boss but also the very person responsible for phrases like “pulsing need” and “moans spilling like honey.” and she’d just puked on him.

talk about a power move.

“small world,” he said, his tone dry as desert sand. wonderful, he thought. my boss threw up on me. but, hey, the night was still young.

he took a long sip from his drink, hoping she wouldn’t take this as an excuse to unleash some kind of creative critique.

“i... i didn’t know you’d be here,” she stammered, a shade redder than before, probably realizing what this made her look like — her, the lady behind the “throbbing heat of desire” shtick.

“don’t worry,” he said, giving her a smirk. “i won’t tell anyone the literary mastermind responsible for all that... romance has a weak stomach.”

you probably don’t remember much after you composed yourself following that second round of projectile embarrassment — but don’t worry, toji remembers. the man’s got a steel trap for the kinds of memories you’d prefer stayed buried. once he’d figured out that you weren’t exactly in shape to be left wandering around, he made the executive decision to get you home. yeah, he’d just met you a couple hours ago, but somehow, through the boozy haze and questionable life choices, he’d managed to catch your address.

impressive detective work, really… or, well, you may have blurted it out mid-ramble about how “the streetlight outside is the only thing lighting up your lonely hallway.”

a touch dramatic, but, hey, it worked.

so he got you back to your place (no thanks to the cab driver’s judgmental side-eye), got you up the stairs without you faceplanting, and, after propping you up long enough to unlock your door, he even went the extra mile and tucked you under the covers. you, meanwhile, mumbled something about “tequila being the devil,” blissfully oblivious to the poor guy who’d just witnessed more of your personal life than your closest friends. toji took one last look before heading out, chuckling to himself as you drifted off, probably already dreaming of whatever literary nonsense you’d be writing next.

but what really stuck with him? the damn “dancing queen” chorus ringing in his ears from the bar. maybe it was still playing somewhere out there in the night, or maybe you’d just cursed him with it. because as he walked home, hands shoved in his pockets, there it was, looping over and over in his head.

“you can dance… you can jive…”

great, now he’d be humming it for days.

both you and toji were snapped back into the fluorescent-lit reality of the conference room, where gojo was still going on about… royalties? percentages? to be honest, the entire spiel sounded more like corporate white noise to you.

toji, on the other hand, was leaning back in his chair, looking as disinterested as humanly possible without actually falling asleep. across the screen, suguru appeared in one of those stiff, all-business modes, nodding along to gojo’s speech. his eyes had that telltale sparkle that only appeared when money was the topic — “stakeholder perks,” as gojo would call it, though it just meant suguru got to rake in extra cash on the side.

“and once the audiobook’s live, the split from the sales will be recalculated quarterly, yadda yadda, yadaaa —” gojo’s voice broke into a sing-song, clearly amusing only himself. “anyway, you guys will see some real sweet checks from this.”

“royalties…” suguru interjected, a bit too smoothly, “remind me what those projected percentages were again, satoru?”

toji suppressed a snort. here they were, with the man himself who could barely be bothered to read a weather report straight, much less your raunchy magnum opus. good luck explaining earnings, gojo.

“oh yeah, royalties!” gojo cleared his throat, launching into a number-laden monologue that seemed to somehow both explain everything and nothing at once. toji barely listened, glancing at the digital clock on the wall. it was only when gojo pivoted, with a suddenly very pointed look, that toji actually tuned back in.

“so, did everyone do their, ah, homework?” gojo grinned as his gaze swept across the room, his eyes landing on you with a bit too much knowing amusement. “read the… material?”

you shuffled uncomfortably in your seat, and every other voice actor in the room suddenly found the table, the wall, or their own shoes very interesting.

all except toji, of course, who stretched back with the most obnoxious smirk you’d seen yet.

“homework?” he drawled, deadpan as always. “yeah, got right into it. wouldn’t want to miss a single word of that… fine literature.”

a few of the others exchanged awkward looks, clearly unsure how to respond to the dead-serious way toji said fine literature without a shred of irony. meanwhile, you shrank a little in your seat, not exactly loving the fact that the guy you threw up on was apparently the one voice actor who actually read your work cover-to-cover. not to mention, this was toji fushiguro, the voice actor who’d taken the world by storm with a single, leaked snippet. you'd heard your fans say that he was some kind of god-tier talent — practically a household name. and now?

he was casually staring you down like he'd just read your diary.

“it’s… it’s not that bad,” you muttered defensively, feeling a prickling heat rise up your neck.

toji raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “oh, didn’t say it was bad. just, uh… thorough.”

you felt the blush intensify, but before you could reply, gojo jumped back in, undeterred. “great! since everyone’s read it now, we’ll dive into scene breakdowns tomorrow, with input from our illustrious author here.” he winked at you in that annoyingly playful way of his, as if he’d just orchestrated the whole thing for kicks. “it’s all about bringing your vision to life, yeah?”

“looking forward to it.” toji’s tone was smooth, with just enough emphasis to hint at the mischief lying behind his calm expression. you could swear there was a glimmer of challenge in his eyes, and the fact that he’d actually read the book — a book that you wrote in a creative haze, no less — was beginning to feel less like a weird coincidence and more like some cosmic joke at your expense.

suguru’s voice broke through, “and let’s hope that translates to success, right, gojo? my dividends would certainly appreciate it.”

“oh, don’t you worry, sugu bear.” gojo leaned in with that shark-like grin of his. “with toji voicing this masterpiece, and the author right here to guide us? we’re printing money already.”

with a dramatic flourish, gojo clapped his hands together, instantly breaking the tension. “alright, dismissed! snacks are out front — help yourselves, or not! more for me, after all,” he added, a mischievous glint in his eye as he clearly envisioned his sugary hoard.

suguru took this moment as his graceful exit cue, giving a short nod before the screen blinked off. gojo sighed theatrically, clasping his chest. “oh, suguru, leaving so soon? you wound me! who’s going to discuss ‘dividends’ and ‘royalties’ with me now?”

nobody had the heart — or possibly the patience — to answer that question, which suited gojo just fine as he spun on his heel, making his way toward the snack table.

you, meanwhile, considered vanishing altogether, at least until the next segment of the day when you’d actually need to make yourself useful. judging by the energy in the room, none of the other voice actors were in a rush to strike up a conversation with you.

ouch. apparently, being the creator of their next project wasn’t that much of a social asset.

you edged toward the door, already halfway to freedom when, like clockwork, a deep, familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “leaving so soon?”

you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. obnoxious didn’t even cover half of it. “just… thought i’d give you guys a break from me,” you muttered, gripping the strap of your bag tighter, hoping it looked casual instead of like an attempt to bolt.

toji’s laugh was low, almost teasing. “a break? i don’t mind the company. in fact, i think the others are just shy.” his words were smooth, but there was a mischievous lilt to them, like he was very aware of just how uncomfortable you probably were.

“right,” you deadpanned, summoning every ounce of sarcasm you had left. “they’re all just shy.”

he chuckled, falling into step beside you as you made your way to the snack table. gojo was already there, unabashedly sampling a tray of tiny cupcakes. he shot you both a grin that was, in all honesty, more threatening than friendly.

oh god, why is he looking at us like that?

“so!” gojo swiped another cupcake, leaning back against the table as he took in you and toji with an almost too-pleased expression. “getting along, are we? i mean, it’s not every day you get to work so closely with the voice behind your book, right?” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, as if trying to ignite some sort of spark just to make things interesting.

toji, unbothered as ever, shrugged. “she already threw up on me. might as well be friends after that, huh?”

oh my god.

you felt the flush rise to your face instantly, a mix of embarrassment and horror. he did not just bring that up in front of gojo, of all people.

“aww, how cute!” gojo crooned, looking absolutely delighted as he clapped his hands in that overly-enthusiastic, not-at-all sincere way. “bonding over bodily fluids. you guys are practically soulmates!”

“please, kill me now,” you muttered under your breath, glaring at the snack table like it might provide an escape hatch.

toji leaned in, voice dropping to a near whisper, and you could practically hear the smirk in his tone. “don’t worry, author. i’ve seen worse.”

“great, that’s… comforting,” you muttered, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as you grabbed a snack at random. at this point, you were ready to make a quick exit, potentially before the day’s work even started if it meant escaping this scene.

“now, don’t run off too fast,” gojo added, wagging a finger at you with a sly grin. “i’m expecting all of us back here in an hour, nice and energized. don’t want any excuses!”

toji shot you one last look, equal parts teasing and unreadable, before he turned to grab a coffee. “guess you’re stuck with me for a little longer,” he murmured, a faint glimmer of humor in his eyes.

wonderful. absolutely wonderful. well, at least there’s cupcakes.

it’s only five minutes into the recording session, and you’re already wondering if there’s a job market for earth-burrowing positions. if there is, you’d gladly take it. anything would be better than this…circus.

the sound booth is packed with voice actors delivering line after line of your book’s carefully crafted (painfully cheesy) smutty dialogue. you bite your lip, both cringing and resisting the urge to laugh out loud as one of the actors, a slender guy with an unfortunate tendency to over-dramatize every vowel, reads his line with a tragic sigh.

“i can’t help it… i just want to devour you.”

devour you? you want to throw yourself into the nearest trash can. before you can stop yourself, you lean forward into the mic, managing a half-apologetic, half-pleading tone. “uh, could you maybe… ease up on the ‘devour’ part? like, less dramatic, more… suave?”

he nods seriously, doing a quick vocal warm-up before trying again. “i can’t help it… i just want to devoooour—”

“nope! nope, nope, nope!” you blurt, a little louder than you intended, the cringe spiraling out of control. you quickly clear your throat, trying to sound as professional as possible. “let’s, uh, maybe just skip to the next line.”

from the corner of the room, you catch sight of gojo, who’s grinning so widely you’re genuinely concerned his face might stay that way forever. he’s watching you with an infectious enthusiasm that’s bordering on manic, his eyes practically sparkling with amusement. you’re half-expecting him to yell, “surprise! this is an snl skit!”

you rub at your temple, wishing the earth would do you a solid and open up beneath you, while the next actor — a petite, sweet-looking woman who’s visibly uncomfortable — takes her turn. she clears her throat, looking down at her script, and delivers the line in a barely-there whisper, “i… i want you to take me… take me as if…”

“um…” you grimace, instantly feeling the heat rise to your face. “maybe a bit louder? but, you know, sensual.”

she blushes, muttering something under her breath before raising her voice, though it’s still trembling. “i… i want you to… take me… as if…”

toji, who’s been watching the whole scene from his seat, chuckles lowly, and his smirk sends a jolt of embarrassment through you. “jeez, author, why don’t you just hop in there and show ’em how it’s done?” he mutters, voice dripping with sarcasm, though it’s not unkind.

you throw him a flat look, biting back an eye roll. not like i wanted to be here, you think to yourself. it’s just that somehow, the universe decided that today you’d be responsible for turning lines you’d never want to say out loud into something even remotely palatable.

and it only gets worse.

another actor — a deep-voiced, well-meaning guy in his mid-40s — leans into his mic and reads out, in a gruff voice you can only describe as a rejected batman impersonation: “you’re driving me… wild.” his tone is so intense it’s like he’s threatening to fight the listener in a parking lot.

“okay… we might want to dial it back a little,” you say carefully, hoping to mask your horror with politeness. “just… a little less ‘supervillain,’ more… warm?”

you hear toji chuckle behind you, low and rumbling, clearly reveling in your suffering. and as you glance over your shoulder, you find gojo, once again, looking like this is the best entertainment he’s had in years.

at this point, he might actually cry from laughing.

just when you think it can’t get any worse, toji stands, giving you a wink as he heads into the booth for his turn. he takes the mic, his face blank and unreadable as he starts reading the next line.

“i need you… right now,” he purrs, his voice oozing that lazy, sensual charm you’d envisioned for this character. it’s… almost unfair, really.

there’s not an ounce of irony or overacting.

toji’s delivery is so smooth, so confident, that it catches you off guard, a flush rising to your cheeks.

gojo lets out a low whistle, giving you a teasing look as if to say, see? was that so hard?

“finally,” you mutter under your breath, swallowing the lump in your throat. gojo raises a brow, clearly enjoying every second of your awkwardness.

you sigh, mentally bracing yourself for the rest of the recording. if nothing else, at least one actor seems to have nailed the tone — much to your embarrassment and gojo’s endless delight.

you clear your throat, attempting to regain some semblance of control over the recording session, which is proving to be harder than herding a pack of caffeinated cats. “right, everyone, let’s, uh, keep moving and go ahead with recording the dragon king’s lines. toji, if you’re ready?”

but you barely finish your sentence before gojo claps toji on the shoulder with that all-too-annoying bromance energy, grinning from ear to ear. “our star is ready, aren’t ya, toji? i mean, look at this guy! look at him! can’t believe i found this gem for gojo-sonic!” gojo’s voice carries that infuriatingly proud tone that practically drips with smug satisfaction.

you stifle an eye roll, and even the other actors exchange glances, half-annoyed, half-amused at gojo’s over-the-top fawning. but before you can jump in to cut gojo off, toji just smirks, sliding comfortably into the mic like he was born to deliver cheesy lines.

“alright, alright,” you murmur, mostly to yourself. “let’s see what you’ve got, mr. dragon king.”

toji adjusts the headphones, his lazy smirk already primed.

and then he begins, voice low and sultry, hitting each cringe-worthy word with the same ridiculous gravitas that has the whole room mesmerized.

“i have waited eons for a beauty like yours to grace my realm. come… be mine, and together we shall rule the heavens.”

you can practically feel everyone holding their breath, transfixed by the sheer sincerity in his tone, despite the line’s absurdity. you, too, can’t help but feel a blush creeping up your neck, which is just unfair given you wrote these lines.

you knew what they were meant to sound like, but this?

he’s delivering them like they’re damn poetry.

toji doesn’t stop there, though, his deep voice carrying each line as though he’s serenading the mic. “my heart burns with a fire only you can soothe. take my hand, and i swear to guard your heart with my very life.”

gojo is practically fawning, batting his eyelashes like a proud parent in the corner. “see, people, this is how it’s done! let the dragon king here show you amateurs how it’s really supposed to sound!”

you resist the urge to chuck something at gojo as the other actors’ eyes widen, watching in awe.

one of them mutters under their breath, “no way we’re topping that.”

and then, toji’s voice dips even lower, the next line coming out in a growl that somehow manages to be both dramatic and, disturbingly, kind of… enchanting.

“you are the breath in my lungs, the flame in my veins. without you, i am but a shadow… a beast in the dark.”

the room is dead silent.

you’re all fawning, gushing messes, and you’re not even sure how it happened. it’s like toji’s somehow turned this trial recording into an absurdly hot moment. you can barely believe you’re hearing the same lines you once labeled “ridiculously cringey” in the draft.

finally, he leans back, looking pleased with himself, as if he hadn’t just left everyone a little breathless. gojo practically beams with pride, nudging you.

“so… i think you’ve found your dragon king, wouldn’t you say?”

you nod, still stunned, half in disbelief, half in begrudging admiration. if this was just the trial recording, you could only imagine how many blushing, starry-eyed listeners this final audiobook was going to leave in its wake.

the moment the trial recording session wraps up, gojo is the first one on his feet, clapping his hands like he's just watched the performance of a lifetime. “brilliant!” he practically shouts, pulling out his phone faster than you can blink. “suguru needs to hear this,” he mutters, already dialing his business partner like a kid who can’t wait to brag about his latest toy.

sometimes you really do forget that gojo is the ceo of a multi-million dollar company — an erotic audiobook company, no less.

is he this passionate about the art, or is it just the money? either way, watching him fanboy over his own employee leaves you a mix of amused and exhausted.

there’s a charm to it, though, even if it’s a little baffling to witness in real time.

as the energy in the studio starts to mellow, you find yourself actually breathing a bit easier. for once, things seem to be going smoothly.

maybe this whole collaboration wouldn’t be a disaster after all.

you let yourself relax, even if a small part of your brain chides you with a quick reminder: next time, skip the cheap caffeine fix when you’re pulling an all-nighter writing smut.

or… cheap anything, really.

yeah, you don’t actually smoke, you remind yourself — except, well, that one time in college, but hey, that was a whole different you. one that should stay buried in the relics of questionable decisions, right next to your spiral-bound notes of embarrassingly bad poetry.

just as you’re praying to the universe that this is all going to wrap up without any extra drama, you hear it. the sound that’s become both your nightmare and… okay, maybe, a little less than that.

“well, princess,” toji’s voice rumbles, his tone as amused as it is teasing, “got anything else you want from your dragon king?”

you close your eyes and will the ground to open up beneath you, but nope, nothing.

nothing but the sound of your heartbeat doing an awkward little tango in your chest.

of course he’d pick now to resurrect that ridiculous moniker from last night. like it wasn’t humiliating enough when he threw it out there while you were a couple drinks deep and all but glued to your seat at the bar.

oh, you’re practically begging the universe to put you out of your misery — well, actually, now that you think about it, maybe being wrapped up in those beefy arms wouldn’t be the worst fate…

wow. get a grip, girl. this is the caffeine deprivation talking.

definitely that.

but then toji smirks at you, an eyebrow raised, as if he’s just dared you to respond. and all you can think is… oh, lord, this man is trouble.

"c’mon, just a drink,” toji insists, flashing that devil-may-care grin that both ruins and improves your day within a matter of seconds. he’s leaning back like he’s got all the time in the world, casually ignoring how you definitely don’t.

“trust me, princess, it’ll settle your nerves.”

it’s not like you need a reminder of the mess that was last night. every foggy memory swirls in your head, like life’s own cruel version of a mocktail — one garnished with shame, regret, and a generous helping of last night’s tequila.

if anything, adding more drinks to this equation feels about as smart as walking blindfolded into traffic.

but toji’s already up, stretching like he’s completely unaware of the chaotic memories this whole “outing” is summoning. “just a quick look around gojo-sonic, yeah?” he says, nodding toward the maze of hallways beyond the studio door, his face the perfect picture of innocence.

“you’re new here, and it’s… important to know the lay of the land. work reasons.”

you can practically hear the quotation marks around that “work reasons.”

“you know,” he adds with a wink, “never hurts to see where the magic happens.”

yeah, right. you have a feeling the only magic here is him somehow dragging you deeper into your personal nightmare.

you don’t even get the chance to respond with a yes, no, or a “maybe next century” when toji’s phone lights up and his whole expression darkens. not exactly the look you expect from the guy whose voice practically ruined half the internet last month with that infamous line about... well, yeah, better not go there right now.

“satoru, the brat got into a fight,” he growls into the phone, and suddenly, satoru’s jaw hits the floor with such force you can practically hear it from across the studio. toji doesn’t stick around for a reply, though — he’s already striding toward the door like a man with a purpose, ignoring satoru’s spluttered, “the what did who?”

and somehow — god knows how — you find yourself tagging along like it’s the most natural thing in the world. maybe it’s curiosity, maybe it’s the thrill of seeing toji in full boss mode, or maybe it’s just because, oh, y’know, “responsible adult and responsibilities” instincts or whatever.

but the further you walk, the more you realize that toji doesn’t mind you following one bit. in fact, he’s practically matching his pace to yours, as if you’re part of some unofficial escort mission to... whoever this “brat” is.

which, speaking of, who the hell is megumi?

you’re still trying to wrap your head around how this was supposed to be a “quick tour” of the office and not, somehow, an impromptu escort mission to the world’s sleekest car, a porsche 911 turbo — yep, that’s right, the kind of car you’ve only ever seen in movies where the bad guy’s got a mysterious, sexy side. all you can manage is, “you own this?”

toji shrugs, slipping his keys into the ignition with an air of pure, unbothered cool. “you don’t?”

oh. okay.

you barely have time to process this response before he’s peeling out of the parking lot, narrowly avoiding a stray cat, a snail-paced truck, and an old lady who’s almost sacrificed her wig to his driving style. but hey, all part of the thrill, right?

definitely not questioning life choices here.

by the time you pull up to a cutesy primary school — you know, the kind with pastel-colored gates and cartoon murals of bears and rabbits — you’re genuinely confused.

toji seems like the last guy who’d be here unless it was some undercover op. and “megumi,” whoever he is, sounds like he could be the school’s playground menace.

“wait, this is where we’re headed?” you ask, eyeing the building like it might suddenly make sense.

but toji’s out of the car, moving so fast you practically have to jog to keep up. the school secretary gives you both a wary glance, likely sensing the storm of exasperation radiating off toji, as he strides straight into the principal’s office. there, sitting on a chair with his arms crossed and an unimpressed scowl that screams “mini-toji,” is a little boy with spiky hair and an air of quiet defiance.

without missing a beat, toji asks, “megs! did you win?”

the principal, a kindly-looking woman whose expression is rapidly shifting from “calm mediator” to “i don’t get paid enough for this,” clears her throat.

“mr. fushiguro, your son wasn’t... in the wrong, per se. it appears he was, um, defending his honor.”

defending his honor? you blink. what kind of second grader even knows what that means?

“that true, ‘gumi?” toji says, arms crossed, looking every bit the unbothered, proud dad of the year.

“he said my dad was a... weird voice actor,” megumi mutters, then shrugs. “so i said at least my dad works.”

you nearly choke, partly from stifled laughter, partly from the sheer absurdity of all this. here you were, thinking “honor” meant, like, taking down a playground empire or something.

but no, megumi’s just a kid with a sharp tongue and a little too much of toji’s attitude.

“damn right, kid,” toji says, patting megumi’s head, then looking over at you with that familiar, annoyingly smug grin. “raised him right, yeah?”

“...sure,” you say, because what else can you even say at this point? it’s like you’ve stumbled into the weirdest sitcom ever, and the laugh track is somehow missing.

the principal’s expression morphs into something almost painfully polite as she addresses you, tiptoeing around the word wife with an impressive mix of caution and curiosity.

“are you, ah... megumi’s guardian?”

and then, in perfect, unplanned harmony, you, toji, and megumi all blurt out, “no.”

the unity, the instinctual synchronization — it’s like you’re all on the same wavelength, for better or worse. soul-level understanding, or something.

what the hell is happening right now?

with a polite smile and a “let’s never speak of this again” nod, you three finally leave the principal’s office. megumi, looking more bored than reprimanded, flicks at a speck of lint on his uniform, while you and toji attempt to navigate the hallway swarming with concerned teachers and worried front-desk ladies. and by “concerned” and “worried,” it’s more like they’re curious about toji’s parenting style and, let’s be honest, probably toji himself.

“oh, mr. fushiguro!” one particularly invested teacher coos, “we heard about the incident. is everything all right?”

toji, of course, laps up the attention, chuckling low and throwing in a wink here and there like he’s starring in some kind of action-movie dad role. the ladies are practically falling over themselves to get a response from him, their questions barely veiled as they assess you with raised brows and sideways glances, a classic “who’s she?” written all over their faces.

“and you are...?” one of the front-desk ladies finally asks, voice all sugar-coated and sharp.

toji slides in smoothly, cutting off whatever half-formed, awkward introduction you were about to stammer out. “oh, she’s a colleague,” he says, his tone effortlessly suave, like introducing a perfectly respectable coworker and totally not the author of his last, extremely explicit audiobook project.

you’re almost grateful until it hits you — this is the same guy who made a whole production of calling you “princess” in the recording booth just yesterday.

as if he hasn’t played one of your absurdly corny dragon kings in all his full-throttle intensity.

and now he’s here, all casual and cool, giving you a proper, respectable title like he hasn’t spent hours voicing content these people probably keep hidden under their pillows at night.

but at least he didn’t out you as the actual author of those… creative pieces.

that’s something.

toji is out here, doing his social service to society. and no, it’s not about lending his voice to steamy audiobooks, thank you very much.

today, he’s serving the community by providing these teachers with a generous five minutes of his attention, which they’ll probably be replaying in their heads until the next parent-teacher meeting. and — oh, what a surprise! — that’s exactly what they’re talking about now, circling back to how he must come to the next one for a “serious discussion” about megumi.

toji’s stance? why bother? if the kid’s acing his tests, staying out of trouble (mostly), and keeping a lid on the whole “honor” thing, why does he need to sit through hours of polite lecturing from the pta?

while he’s busy justifying his lack of parental enthusiasm, you feel a pair of eyes on you. glancing down, you meet megumi’s steady, curious stare.

it’s oddly intense for a kid his age, but you’re not one to back down from a challenge. you narrow your eyes, feigning a critical, assessing look, and he visibly falters, going slightly pink around the ears.

ah, kids.

as you three make your way out of the building — toji still being all socialite with the staff and probably postponing that pta date indefinitely — you suddenly find yourself in a mini interview with megumi. it’s as if this eight-year-old has appointed himself the gatekeeper of his dad’s life and has decided you’re the latest applicant.

“so… what’s your favorite color?” he asks, with an unblinking, serious stare.

“uh…” you pause, realizing the weight of your answer here. “blue. like, uh, light blue.”

he nods, considering. “good answer.”

a pause. “favorite superhero?”

“batman?” you try, glancing at him for a sign of approval.

“hmm. fine. but iron man would’ve been better.”

noted, you think, as he then moves to cereal brand, favorite animal, and even your preferred subject in school. you navigate each question as best as you can, almost feeling the burn of a final exam.

then, in a moment of quiet, just as you think the quiz is over, megumi looks down and asks, voice barely a whisper, “did i… do the right thing? defending my… my hone-er?”

“your… oh, honor?” you say, a smile twitching at the corner of your mouth as you catch his wide-eyed, earnest gaze.

he nods, cheeks tinting a bit as he scuffs his sneaker on the ground.

“megumi,” you say, kneeling a little to get on his level, “defending your honor is important. just… maybe don’t go for all the punches next time? sometimes words work too.” you give him a playful nudge.

he nods, seeming satisfied with that answer, then glances over his shoulder. “and don’t tell daddy i asked.”

“your secret’s safe with me,” you whisper back, giving him a conspiratorial wink.

toji’s arms were crossed, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched the little interaction between you and megumi.

he was always careful about the people around his kid, fiercely protective to the point that very few in his line of work even knew megumi existed. the only ones who had ever met him were gojo and geto — and that was already a stretch.

but something about how you handled the kid’s questions, actually entertained them with the same patience he’d usually summon up himself, caught him off guard. the way you knelt down to answer him, even kept a straight face through the hard-hitting topics of favorite superheroes and cereal brands... it was surprisingly nice.

almost… reassuring?

ugh, what was he even thinking? you were still the same girl who’d written, and he mentally cringed as he remembered the line,

“dragons may have claws, but they’re nothing compared to the grip i have on your…”

yeah, yeah, he really didn’t need to finish that thought. the memory alone had him chuckling under his breath, shaking his head.

of course, that earned him a suspicious glance from both you and megumi.

“what’s so funny?” you asked, brow raised.

“yeah, daddy, why’re you laughing?” megumi chimed in, clearly puzzled.

toji waved a hand dismissively, realizing he’d just blown his cool for no reason.

“nothin’, don’t worry about it. just thinkin’,” he mumbled, aware he’d probably looked a little unhinged just then.

maybe he really needed to work on his awareness — or maybe he just needed to get a grip, period.

toji’s mind was doing somersaults, genuinely debating if he could manage both you and megumi tagging along for the afternoon. megumi’s insistence didn’t help; kid was determined that toji should keep you both company for the rest of the day, despite having school hours left.

“you’ve got work, right?” you ask, half-joking, half-serious. “aren’t you supposed to be off doing big, important actor things?”

toji only smirked, whipping out his phone with the sort of confidence that made it clear he had a workaround for everything. he tapped open a message to gojo, fingers moving fast.

you [11:31 am]: hey. kid’s dragging me to the arcade. need a few hours off. gojo s. [11:33 am]: need or WANT, toji? ;)) you [11:31 am]: like i said, KID is dragging me. gojo s. [11:33 am]: oh sure, blame megumi. what, does he have you wrapped around his little finger or something? you [11:31 am]: think whatever you want, but you’re handling my schedule for the rest of the day. gojo s. [11:33 am]: wait, are you with...the AUTHOR? ;)) you [11:31 am]: quit smiling through text, it’s creepy. gojo s. [11:33 am]: i’ll allow it. but only cause i’m such a good friend. gojo s. [11:33 am]: tell megumi uncle gojo says hi gojo s. [11:34 am]: and he owes me 20 bucks. you [11:35 am]: he doesn’t owe you anything. gojo s. [11:35 am]: fine, but bring me something from the prize counter.

satisfied, toji pocketed his phone and shrugged.

“all right, kid. we’ll hang out for a bit. but i swear if you drag me into any embarrassing games —”

“arcade!” megumi interrupted, not even giving him a chance to finish. “i can show you both that i’m the best at every game! daddy taught me how to play, so you better watch out!”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at the kid’s enthusiasm.

“all right, let’s go. but you better not make me look bad, kid,” toji said, smirking down at his son, who was now practically vibrating with eagerness.

“arcade!” megumi yelled again, nearly bouncing as he grabbed your hand and began to lead the way.

megumi barely lets you settle into the leather of the passenger seat before he’s bouncing in the back, practically vibrating with energy as he plugs toji’s phone into the aux. you’re trying to wrap your head around being in toji fushiguro’s car, the man who not only voices the romantic lead in your steamiest, most dramatic book but also owns a luxury car that could probably pay off your loans twice over.

"so, uh... passenger princess, huh?" toji smirks, catching you in mid-thought.

"i… what?" you stammer, feeling the heat creep up as he settles a hand on the wheel with all the nonchalance in the world. “i, uh —” but you’re cut off by megumi excitedly blasting his choice of artist: korn.

"your son listens to korn?" you blurt out, giving toji a mix of awe and disbelief.

toji just raises an eyebrow, deadpanning, “yours doesn’t?”

ouch. okay, fair point.

because no, you do not have a kid, or a husband, or even a boyfriend…or any romantic prospects, really.

toji’s question leaves you fidgeting as you try to muster a dignified response.

meanwhile, megumi is full-on screaming to the lyrics of "freak on a leash," and you catch snippets like “something takes a part of me!” which, yeah, relatable — korn is honestly hitting the mood. but of course, toji catches you staring out the window, attempting to look casual as he throws you a side-eye.

"so, what’s got you without a boyfriend?” he asks, way too casually, as if this was a natural segue from whatever korn-fueled karaoke session is happening in the backseat.

you practically choke on air. "what, me? no, i’m...," you laugh awkwardly, shifting in the passenger seat. “besides, i don’t meet many guys. i'm just… you know… doing my thing.”

megumi, pausing his headbanging just for a moment, turns and looks at you with an exaggerated ‘yikes’ face, as if being single was the worst possible fate in his young, eight-year-old eyes.

but then he shrugs, clearly uninterested in this adult drama and goes back to screaming, “feeling like a freak on a leash!”

toji, still watching you, smirks, “so, doing your ‘thing’ includes no boyfriend, no husband... what, are you just swearing off men?”

"uh, no!” you say quickly, too quickly, and feel your face heat up. “just haven’t... y’know, met anyone worth dating. been busy.”

toji gives a low chuckle, clearly entertained. “busy doing what, writing your ‘torrid love stories’?”

you make a face, biting your lip.

“they’re not that torrid.” but even as you say it, you hear the echo of a particularly cheesy line you’d written for his character in your novel, which, mortifyingly enough, involved the phrase “my darling flame, you set my very soul alight.”

toji chuckles, as if reading your thoughts. “maybe i’ll get to hear one of those lines in real life someday, princess.”

“can we not call me that while megumi’s in the car?” you mutter, glancing back, only to find megumi fully engrossed in his self-proclaimed vocal talents.

“noted.” toji snickers, shooting you another mischievous look as korn plays on, megumi happily singing about “breaking down” in the back.

“but hey,” toji says smoothly, hand resting on the gearshift, “just so you know, even my son knows a good band when he hears one.”

you roll your eyes at him, managing to mumble, “at least one of you is a bit mature.”

the porsche pulls up to the arcade with enough fanfare that heads start turning even before the engine purrs to a stop. not that the onlookers were ready for what steps out next: a towering, chiseled man looking like he’s on his way to a modeling photoshoot, a cute kid in full confidence mode, and, well… you.

still feeling a little dizzy from the korn concert that just took place, you barely register megumi bolting out of the car with a grin, leaving you and toji to get your bearings. his energy’s practically crackling by the time toji pays for the play card, and you’re pretty sure if he has to wait even one more minute, he’s about to combust.

“okay, okay, slow down, megumi,” you say, trying to keep up as he yanks you to the nearest neon-lit game.

but the kid isn’t hearing it. he’s already dragging you to one machine, and then the next, moving faster than you can process where you even are. each one is seemingly more intense and blinding than the last, and you’re hit with a sensory overload of neon lights, retro game sounds, and the feel of the arcade carpet sticking just a little too much to your shoes.

toji’s watching the whole ordeal with a bemused smirk. you and his kid are like a whirlwind of neon and laughter, barely stopping to catch your breaths between games. the sight is somehow… comforting. like a scene from a life he hadn’t planned but couldn’t help finding strangely compelling.

but then he catches himself. seriously?

he shakes his head. this is not the time to get all sentimental over his kid’s new ‘playdate’ or whatever.

he’s just here because megumi insisted, and maybe he thought it’d be amusing to watch you get dragged around by an eight-year-old with zero restraint. that’s it.

nothing more.

yeah, right. his internal grumbling comes to an abrupt stop as he watches megumi take your hand and pull you over to a classic claw machine. the kid’s looking up at you with the widest eyes you’ve ever seen, all excitement and pure innocence, like winning one of those knockoff plush toys is the pinnacle of existence.

“you got this?” you ask, grinning at him as he lines up the claw with intense concentration.

“of course! my dad showed me,” he declares, like he’s about to go pro in the claw game league.

toji, watching from a distance, feels a twinge in his chest.

yeah, he’d shown megumi how to play this game ages ago, more to give him an edge over the other kids than anything else. it was a dad-and-son thing, just the two of them. but seeing megumi look up at you with the same pride and excitement makes him feel… something.

and he doesn’t know if he likes it.

you’re so focused on megumi’s moves that you don’t notice toji’s slight frown, nor do you hear his quiet mutter of, “this is ridiculous.”

but when he sees the way your eyes light up as megumi successfully nabs a cheap stuffed animal — a lopsided dinosaur, of all things — and the way you celebrate like he’s won an olympic medal, he feels himself relax, just a little.

he chuckles, shaking his head and crossing his arms as you high-five megumi, both of you beaming over a prize that probably cost less than the game itself. but toji doesn’t move.

he stands there, rooted, as you two bounce from game to game, his thoughts too jumbled to focus on anything else.

but maybe… maybe that’s okay for now.

toji’s phone buzzes just as he’s leaning against the side of a vintage racing game, watching you and megumi practically lighting up the whole arcade with your laughter. he glances down to see satoru’s name pop up on the screen, already feeling a headache brewing.

gojo s. [12:20 pm]: so, arcade? 😏 you [12:20 pm]: yeah, i just told you. gojo s. [12:20 pm]: nah, i mean WHY the arcade? what are we celebrating here, toji? ;)) you [12:21 pm]: why does it matter gojo s. [12:21 pm]: CUZZZZ gojo s. [12:21 pm]: lemme guess, megumi's there with her now, right? gojo s. [12:22 pm]: bet they’re having the time of their lives, while YOU gojo s. [12:22 pm]: you’re just there all moody on the sidelines😔

toji glances up at you and megumi, who’ve now moved on to a skee-ball machine, both cheering as you score a perfect 50-point throw.

you [12:23 pm]: like i said, work stuff. gojo s. [12:24 pm]: HAHA. work stuff, right. gojo s. [12:24 pm]: work stuff that has megumi running around grinning like that. gojo s. [12:25 pm]: bro gojo s. [12:25 pm]: you’re terrible at lying. gojo s. [12:26 pm]: she’s a keeper if she can deal with YOU you [12:26 pm]: keep dreaming.

he slips his phone back into his pocket, unable to shake off the grin creeping onto his face as he watches you high-five megumi. the kid’s happier than he’s seen in ages, and he…

well, he can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed watching anyone just being with his kid.

toji stands back, taking in the moment — megumi’s laughter echoing through the arcade, your smile as you lift him up with an ease that has the kid giggling uncontrollably — and for some reason, his mind has turned the whole scene into a rom-com montage.

you are the dancing queen…

it’s absurd, really.

he doesn’t even like abba. but there it is, the stupid song playing in his head, all set to the image of you holding his son, twirling him like he weighs nothing, both of you in fits of laughter.

young and sweet, only seventeen…

and for a split second, his heart does this awkward little stutter.

he chalks it up to the neon lights.

or maybe the greasy smell of the arcade food messing with his senses. but as he watches you hold megumi up, almost as if he’s flying, he can’t ignore that ridiculous, cheesy pull in his chest.

feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah...

oh god.

is he seriously catching himself grinning at the way you’re both trying to get him to join in? megumi’s little hand reaches out, beckoning him over, and you’re giving him that smile, that “come on, get over here, big guy” look.

you can dance, you can jive…

the song hits that soaring note in his head just as he finally gives in and starts to walk over, and his pulse actually picks up, as if he’s not just at some run-down arcade but in the middle of some ridiculously sappy rom-com finale.

having the time of your life…

and then megumi is shrieking again, calling, “dad, hurry up!” like it’s life or death, and you’re beaming at him with that mischievous, encouraging look.

toji sighs, shaking his head at himself.

just great.

the two of you have officially dragged him into your world, soundtrack and all.

toji's trying his best to lock in.

but as he walks out of the arcade — juggling not one, but four oversized plushies, two fancy new lego sets, a slinky, a bouncy ball, some glow-in-the-dark slime, and a rainbow slap bracelet — he can’t help but snort at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

between his loaded arms and megumi curled up fast asleep in yours, it’s a scene straight out of one of those cheesy family movies.

he shakes his head, trying to push down that weirdly warm feeling creeping up on him.

stay focused, toji.

he doesn't need any sappy feelings right now. he's a single dad with a kid and a job, not some washed-up rom-com character, damn it.

but watching you gently adjust megumi as he drools onto your shoulder, snuggling deeper into the crook of your arm as you carefully slide into the backseat, it’s hard not to feel that tug again.

ugh, he thinks, climbing into the driver’s seat as you buckle up up front, giving him a soft, tired smile.

“never held a kid before, huh?” he teases, eyes glancing from the road to the rearview mirror, where megumi’s still dozing, soft breaths muffling against your arm.

“nope,” you shrug, but there’s a softness to your voice as you gently rub megumi’s back, “first time for everything, i guess.”

toji’s heart does that weird skip thing again.

oh god, he thinks, gripping the wheel a little tighter as he tries to ignore the sappy old man vibe overtaking him.

the air in the car feels... charged, but it’s not like either of you are exactly leaning into the tension. instead, you both sit in this weird, awkward silence, save for the quiet hum of the radio, like you’re suddenly too aware of just being there with each other.

and then, as if the universe wanted to toy with you, iris by the goo goo dolls starts playing.

oh, god. you immediately wish you could just evaporate into the passenger seat.

“...and i’d give up forever to touch you…” the lyrics croon, filling the silence, and you can practically feel the heat crawling up your cheeks.

toji clears his throat, obviously catching it too. “radio’s on a roll, huh?”

“yep,” you say, managing a weak laugh. “i mean, this is classic… everyone listens to goo goo dolls in, uh, total silence in the car with their coworker, right?”

he glances at you, a rare, subtle smile ghosting on his lips. “totally normal.”

“and i don’t want the world to see me… ’cause i don’t think that they’d understand…”

you glance out the window, eyes focused anywhere but on him, biting back a laugh at how the song somehow keeps getting more dramatic. like, who’s writing this scene, seriously?

“just tell me where to turn,” toji says, breaking through your internal monologue, and you do, mentioning a landmark close to home, hoping he’ll take the hint.

but toji only raises an eyebrow. “near it? nah. i’m dropping you at the door.”

“oh, no, that’s really fine —” you start, but he’s already shaking his head.

“don’t worry about it,” he insists, a smirk in his voice. “besides, i remember where you live. from, you know… last time.”

wait. last time? as in… when you were embarrassingly, unapologetically wasted that night?

you want to crawl under the seat as the lyrics continue, “when everything’s made to be broken…”

so when toji pulls up in front of your apartment, there’s this odd feeling hanging in the air. you catch yourself wanting to... linger, just a little longer, even if you’re home.

and lowkey?

so does toji.

it’s like the two of you have hit this weird teenage crush level of awkward — just leaning, leaning, like there’s some invisible string pulling you closer.

he’s looking at you, and you’re looking at him, and you’re both just… stuck there. you can’t even bring yourself to reach for the door handle, and it’s the same for him.

but right as the moment peaks, a tiny, innocent voice cuts through from the backseat. “are you two going to kiss?”

megumi’s question hangs there, blunt and childlike, breaking whatever spell had you both frozen. you both jolt back, blinking as if you just woke up.

“what? no!” you blurt, practically tripping over your own denial.

your face feels like it’s about to catch fire.

toji coughs, rubbing the back of his neck, just barely suppressing a chuckle.

“kid’s got a helluva imagination,” he mutters, eyes anywhere but on you.

as you finally reach for the door handle, ready to slip out and say your goodbyes, you hear a little sniffle from the backseat.

“wait…” megumi’s voice is tiny, almost shaky. you turn around, and to your surprise, his face is scrunched up, his eyes glistening with tears that he’s trying so hard to hold back.

“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, twisting around in your seat to face him. “i’ll see you again, kiddo.”

but his lower lip wobbles, and suddenly he bursts into full-on tears, clutching the giant plushie he won at the arcade. “b-but i don’t want you to leave!” he sobs, voice cracking. “can’t you stay just a little longer?”

toji’s eyes widen; he looks genuinely shocked.

“megumi, you’re fine, she’s not going anywhere forever. what’s gotten into you?” he tries to keep his tone steady, but there’s an undercurrent of surprise.

megumi doesn’t cry.

ever.

this is new territory.

megumi just shakes his head, burying his face into the plushie. “but she’s nice,” he mumbles, muffled but insistent. “and she plays games with me and —” he peeks out from the plushie with red, teary eyes. “and she talks to me like you do.”

you feel something stir in your chest at his words, this overwhelming urge to hug him even though you’d sworn up and down just an hour ago you didn’t know how to handle kids.

“aw, megumi,” you say softly, reaching over and giving his little hand a squeeze. “i’ll still see you, i promise. maybe we can even play again sometime, okay?”

“but you’re leaving now,” he says, his voice quivering, clutching your hand with a desperation that tugs at your heart.

“and daddy didn’t even kiss you.”

the absolute silence that follows is deafening.

you feel your face go redder than it’s ever been, and a glance at toji shows he’s equally flustered, mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to find some way to steer this conversation back to normal.

“whoa, hey now,” toji says, forcing a laugh as he clears his throat. “that’s, uh — that’s not how it works, kid.” he ruffles megumi’s hair a little too hard, clearly floundering. “and hey, don’t go crying over someone just leaving for the night, you’re stronger than that.”

“i don’t care,” megumi sniffles, clutching your hand tighter. “i like her. and she makes you smile.”

toji freezes, the color draining from his face for just a split second.

makes him smile.

he doesn’t even realize he’s been smiling, maybe more in one day than he has in months. he glances at you, brow furrowed like he’s trying to make sense of it himself.

“well…” toji’s voice is softer now, almost cautious, like he’s testing out words he hasn’t said in a long time. “

maybe… maybe she could come around again. if she wants to, that is.”

“i do.” you answer without thinking, your gaze drifting to megumi’s tear-streaked face, which immediately lights up.

“really?” megumi’s eyes shine, practically bouncing in his seat. “you promise?”

“i promise,” you say with a smile, giving him a reassuring nod. “as long as it’s okay with you and your dad, of course.”

“’s fine,” toji grumbles, running a hand over his face to hide his slight grin. “besides, someone’s gotta teach you a lesson or two at the arcade next time.”

“is that a challenge, toji?” you quip, smirking. “because if i remember right, megumi here got more tickets than both of us combined.”

“that’s because i taught him everything he knows,” toji scoffs, rolling his eyes as if he can’t believe he’s even entertaining this.

megumi sniffles one last time, his eyes practically glowing with happiness. “then… you’ll come over soon, right?”

“absolutely,” you say, warmth bubbling up in your chest as you meet his hopeful gaze. “but only if you promise to keep practicing at the arcade. gotta keep that winning streak going, right?”

megumi grins, finally letting go of your hand as he settles back with a contented sigh. “deal.”

toji just shakes his head, muttering something about the “drama” gene clearly skipping a generation, though the smile tugging at his lips says otherwise.

as you unbuckle your seatbelt, ready to say goodbye, you feel the car click with the unmistakable sound of the child lock. you glance back at megumi, who’s nodding off against his plushie pile, and back at toji, who’s already climbing out to walk you up to your door.

gentlemanly of him, sure.

though, the way his eyes linger on you… there’s more to it than that.

“i could’ve walked myself, you know,” you say, falling into step beside him as you head up to your building. “it’s not that far.”

“maybe i just felt like making sure you didn’t trip and embarrass yourself,” he shoots back, smirking as he nudges your shoulder.

“very chivalrous, fushiguro,” you reply, rolling your eyes but grinning anyway. “honestly, you’re like a walking textbook definition of ‘gentleman.’”

“yeah, well,” he clears his throat, looking just a bit smug. “maybe i was raised right. or maybe,” his voice drops a little lower, “i just wanted an excuse to stick around a little longer.”

you blink, caught off guard by the soft rasp in his voice, the way his eyes are just a bit darker under the porch light.

“oh,” is all you manage, though your heartbeat’s doing a little somersault. “well… uh. here’s my door.”

“guess it is,” he murmurs, eyes glinting as he takes a step closer, leaning against the doorframe like he’s meant to be there, like he’s settled in the idea of being right here, with you.

“y’know… not a bad place to end the night.”

“yeah,” you say, feeling the words catch in your throat as you gaze up at him, taking in every detail, every shadow. “definitely not bad.”

the two of you are just standing there, a little too close, the space between you narrowing with every unspoken word. he glances down at your lips, and your pulse spikes — he’s thinking it too, right? but just as the moment seems to reach its tipping point, toji smirks, a flash of mischief in his eyes.

“you know,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “still can’t believe you’re the same girl who wrote that… what was it again?” he chuckles, clearly remembering. “oh, right — ‘her legs wrapped around him like a vice, his name spilling from her lips like honey’.”

your face goes nuclear.

that line.

of all the lines, that one?

“you… you remember that?” you manage, mortified.

“’course i remember,” he says, that smug smirk firmly in place. “you think i just skimmed through your stuff?”

“well — i — ” your words are a mess, barely coherent. “i mean, i just thought —”

“nah, i’ve been reading it all.” his voice is low, almost a whisper as he leans just a little closer, his fingers lightly brushing your arm. “you’ve got quite the imagination.”

“s-shut up,” you stammer, unable to meet his gaze. “i was just… doing my job.”

“i know,” he says, voice soft but unyielding. “you’ve got talent.”

there’s a beat, silence stretching between you, the weight of his words settling over the both of you.

“...and you’ve got this whole heartthrob thing going for you,” you blurt out, finally meeting his eyes with a nervous laugh. “kind of makes it hard to believe you’re my colleague.”

“heartthrob, huh?” he smirks, voice dipping lower as his fingers drift to your chin, tilting your face up.

“so that’s what you think of me?”

“i — i mean…” you stammer, your heart racing as you look into his eyes, feeling your cheeks burn. “maybe a little. just… a tiny bit.”

“tiny?” he murmurs, his lips barely an inch away. “could’ve sworn you looked a little more than just ‘tiny’ interested.”

“oh yeah?” your voice is a whisper now, almost breathless as you feel his breath on your skin, his gaze never wavering. “what if i was?”

“then i’d probably do this,” he mutters, his hand sliding up to cradle your face, and before you know it, his lips are on yours, soft and warm and impossibly gentle.

your breath catches, and instinctively, you lean into him, letting his kiss deepen, his hand tracing slow, lazy patterns against your cheek. it’s everything you’d imagined and somehow even better, his presence grounding and electric all at once.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes soft but searching. “so… do i still get to be a heartthrob?”

“only if i still get to be the girl with the cringe smut,” you murmur back, grinning like an idiot.

“deal,” he says, chuckling as he pulls you in for another kiss, his lips brushing yours like a promise.

ah, shit.

as toji slips back into the car, he barely manages to close the door before megumi’s voice hits him like a lightning bolt.

“daddy kissed the pretty lady!” megumi shrieks, pointing an accusatory finger from the backseat. “i saw it! you have that weird face on!”

toji’s eyebrows shoot up. “weird face? what weird face?” he tries to play it cool, adjusting the rearview mirror, but the ghost of that kiss is still painted on his lips, his pulse betraying him with every beat.

“that smile,” megumi says, wrinkling his nose in a perfect mirror of his dad’s usual expression of disdain. “you look like a… like a…” he pauses, searching for the right words. “...like a love puppy!”

toji chokes, stifling a laugh. “a love puppy? where the hell did you get that from?”

“it’s a thing, daddy,” megumi huffs, crossing his arms. “you have that goofy look, and your face is all soft. you only look like that when you’re being weird.”

“me? weird?” toji glances in the mirror, catching megumi’s glare. “kid, i think you’ve got this all wrong.”

“no, i don’t!” megumi insists, practically bouncing in his seat. “you were all ‘goo-goo eyes’ and ‘smoochy-smoochy’ and ‘mwah mwah mwah!’” he makes exaggerated kissing sounds, complete with squished-up lips and hand gestures, utterly scandalized by his dad’s sudden transformation.

“alright, alright, enough with the ‘mwah mwah.’” toji tries to suppress a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “you’ve been watching too many cartoons.”

megumi shakes his head, his expression serious. “nope. i knew it. i knew you liked her.” he narrows his eyes, as if seeing through toji’s very soul. “so… are you gonna marry her?”

toji’s eyes go wide.

“whoa, whoa, hold on. nobody said anything about marriage.”

“but if you kiss someone, that means you wanna be with them forever, right?” megumi asks earnestly, looking way too wise for his age.

toji stares ahead, caught off-guard by the kid’s earnestness.

that kiss… he didn’t plan it. he didn’t even know he was going to do it until he’d leaned in, felt the spark pull him closer. but now?

yeah, the idea of just walking away feels… wrong. he tightens his grip on the steering wheel, his mind racing.

“kid, sometimes people just… feel things, okay?” he says, his voice softer, more introspective. “even if they don’t really know why.”

megumi tilts his head, watching his dad closely. “so you do like her, then?”

toji snorts, pulling the car out onto the road. “alright, detective, settle down back there. no more snooping.”

they drive in a comfortable silence for a moment, but the radio has other plans.

as if on cue, the familiar, aching chords of iris by the goo goo dolls come through the speakers, and toji swears he could feel the universe laughing at him.

“and i don’t want the world to see me, ’cause i don’t think that they’d understand…”

toji clenches his jaw, feeling the lyrics press into him, each line stirring something restless and warm in his chest. he’s always been a guy with his walls up, always knew the stakes were too high to let anyone in.

but tonight… tonight, he let his guard down. just for a second.

he kissed you, tasted the softness of your lips, and the spark left him reeling.

“when everything’s meant to be broken, i just want you to know who i am…”

“daddy?” megumi’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “do you think… maybe you could see her again? so she could come play with us?”

toji blinks, glancing at megumi in the rearview mirror. “you really like her, huh?”

megumi nods vigorously. “yeah! she’s… nice. and fun.” his face softens. “and… she made you look happy.”

toji’s heart gives a strange, unfamiliar twist at that.

happy, huh?

he’s been around the block long enough to know that happiness isn’t exactly his best friend. but sitting here, listening to megumi, feeling that residual warmth from your kiss… it makes him wonder.

wonder what life could look like with you in it.

but he pushes the thought away, focusing on the road. doesn’t change the fact that you’re just his colleague. right?

“and i’d give up forever to touch you…”

ugh.

he shifts uncomfortably, hoping megumi doesn’t notice his knuckles going white on the steering wheel.

that kiss wasn’t just some fleeting thing — he’d known it the second he felt the warmth of you linger even after pulling away. the idea of letting you go now feels… impossible. something’s tugging him back, making him want more.

“hey, daddy,” megumi pipes up again, breaking toji’s brooding. “you got that look again.”

“what look?” toji mutters, trying to focus on anything but the goofy grin creeping back onto his face.

megumi smirks, mimicking toji’s soft expression. “that ‘i kissed a pretty lady’ look!”

toji laughs, shaking his head as he glances at megumi in the rearview mirror. “alright, alright. i guess you caught me.”

and as he drives home, the final notes of iris playing softly through the car, he can’t shake the feeling that this… whatever this is… isn’t something he’s ready to let go of.

ah, shit.

as soon as toji sets megumi down on his bed, tucking him in amongst the mountain of ridiculous plushies he’d somehow won at the arcade, he heads back to his room. sliding his phone out, he finds himself doing something he never thought he’d do: texting gojo. of all people.

with a reluctant sigh, he taps out a message, feeling a pang of embarrassment he can’t shake.

you [8:47 pm]: how long’s her contract with gojo sonic?

a moment later, he watches the screen, regretting even reaching out. but, of course, gojo wastes no time with a reply.

gojo s. [8:50 pm]: ohohohohooooo her contract??? gojo s. [8:50 pm]: i knew it. you’re smitten. you [8:51 pm]: don’t start. gojo s. [8:51 pm]: too late! c’mon, dish it out, big guy. gojo s. [8:51 pm]: you guys had a moment, huh? the chemistry finally snapped? what’d ya do, kiss her?

toji clenches his jaw, hesitating before typing back. his thumb hovers, wondering how much grief he’d get for saying yes. finally, he mutters a curse under his breath and just goes for it.

you [8:53 pm]: ...yeah, i kissed her. happy?

he can practically feel gojo’s cackle vibrating through the phone.

gojo s. [8:53 pm]: WHAT??? gojo s. [8:53 pm]: WAIT. gojo s. [8:53 pm]: oh, i need details. gojo s. [8:53 pm]: full play-by-play. gojo s. [8:53 pm]: like was it one of those slow, cinematic moments? gojo s. [8:54 pm]: or was it a grab and smooch kinda deal??

toji rolls his eyes, fighting off a grin he refuses to admit is there. of all the reactions, he’d been prepared for gojo’s nosiness, but it’s still as annoying as ever.

you [8:55 pm]: shut it. i already said too much. gojo s. [8:55 pm]: pfffff as if i’m letting you get away with that tidbit and no context. gojo s. [8:55 pm]: did she look at you all wide-eyed? gojo s. [8:55 pm]: did you do that thing with your voice?? gojo s. [8:56 pm]: or was it just an accidental, “oh no, we tripped into each other’s faces” sorta thing?

toji rubs his temples, trying to block out how much his stupid heart rate picks up just remembering the way you looked up at him, the softness of your lips, the way it all felt so natural. he shakes his head, forcing the memory aside.

you [8:57 pm]: none of your business, and it’s private. you [8:57 pm]: don’t you dare send any of this to suguru. gojo s. [8:57 pm]: oh relax! suguru’s not that nosy. gojo s. [8:57 pm]: okay maybe he is. gojo s. [8:58 pm]: but he’s a romantic. gojo s. [8:58 pm]: think of it as getting free relationship coaching!! you [9:00 pm]: i swear to god satoru i’ll leave the company if you spill this.

there’s a pause, and for a second toji hopes that maybe he’s scared gojo off.

but, predictably, the next message makes his blood pressure spike.

gojo s. [9:05 pm]: ohhhhh no no you’re not getting off that easy. gojo s. [9:05 pm]: i’m calling dibs on being the flower girl at your wedding. suguru can be the maid of honor. gojo s. [9:06 pm]: no nvm he’d wanna be the best man gojo s. [9:06 pm]: I’LL GET MEGUMI TO CARRY THE RINGS gojo s. [9:06 pm]: genius.

toji practically growls at his phone, already regretting every second of this conversation.

you [9:07 pm]: i’ll delete this whole damn thread. this never happened, got it? gojo s. [9:09 pm]: aww, toji bear, don’t be like that. i’ll take care of your little love story for you, promise. consider me your personal wingman. gojo s. [9:10 pm]: now tell me this — when’s round two of smooch central happening? you [9:11 pm]: goodnight, satoru.

and with that, he shoves his phone onto his nightstand, rubbing his face with a hand. he can still feel the lingering warmth of that kiss, the way his heart skipped, the unexpected tenderness that’s lodged itself in his mind.

stupid.

he shouldn’t have even told gojo.

but as much as he regrets letting it slip, he doesn’t regret the kiss itself.

not even a bit.

as soon as you slam your door shut, you just… stand there for a minute, heart racing, and press your fingers to your lips like it’ll somehow reverse what just happened.

you kissed toji fushiguro.

the toji fushiguro.

colleague extraordinaire, with biceps that could probably benchpress your entire life’s savings, and that smirk… oh god, that smirk that had you in a daze.

but the problem?

there was a mini him there.

a little him with matching black hair and a sharp gaze.

you thought he was, like, the cool uncle? but… he’s a dad?

and if he’s a dad… does that mean he’s married? are you the other woman?!

you pace around, practically stomping into the carpet.

“okay, okay, let’s think this through,” you mutter, putting your hands on your hips.

“he… he could be a single dad, right? it’s 2024, it’s not that weird for people to have kids without, like, commitment commitments. but then again, he does look like the type who’d… i don’t know, maybe be exclusive? probably?”

your brain is racing, and you’re spinning yourself into circles.

“i mean, i haven’t seen a ring on his finger… but maybe he just doesn’t wear it?” you plop down on your couch, practically sinking into it as you cover your face with both hands.

ugh.

“did i just kiss a married man? or worse… what if he’s, like, engaged? or has a live-in girlfriend? or — oh my god, what if he’s in some high-profile relationship and i just stepped into the middle of it? —”

you groan, flopping back. “but he… he definitely leaned in first. i’m not hallucinating. he did! but then, if he’s that willing to kiss me, does that mean he’s… a cheater?”

you sit up and shake your head, wide-eyed. “okay, no, i refuse to believe that toji fushiguro, mr. brooding and brooding-er with a kid who listens to korn, is a cheater. there’s no way… right?”

your own voice is almost pleading as you try to convince yourself, pacing again.

“i mean, maybe he’s just… really, really committed to… being mysterious. yeah, that makes sense. he’s keeping everything a secret, so that just leaves me spiraling about him… perfect. just perfect.”

you smack a hand against your forehead. “why couldn’t i have asked literally any of this earlier?” you shake your head. “right, because i was too busy kissing him.”

you throw yourself back onto the couch and stare at the ceiling, the whole thing replaying in your head.

that look he gave you, the warmth of his hand on your back…

stop.

but it’s too late. your brain keeps running with it.

“what if… what if he has no idea i’m freaking out?” you frown. “oh, he probably doesn’t. and here i am, making a whole drama out of one kiss.” you let out a deep sigh.

you flop onto your bed, heart still pounding, and stare up at the ceiling, fingers absently grazing your lips.

burning loins, they said. melting from one kiss, they said.

well, no one exactly said that — except every steamy novel you’ve ever read or written, but that’s beside the point.

you groan, kicking your feet up in frustration. this isn’t one of your own novels! it’s supposed to be real life! but now here you are, in the aftermath of what was arguably the best kiss you’ve ever had, practically combusting at the memory of it.

“if one kiss with toji — no, any man — can get me this hot and bothered, how am i supposed to handle it if i ever… you know…” your voice trails off, and you turn over, burying your face into the pillow as if it’ll smother the absurd train of thought.

but then, just as you start to get your mind off it, his face pops back up in your head.

“oh god,” you mumble, pulling the pillow over your face. “this is pathetic.” you roll over again, laughing helplessly to yourself.

if this is what one or two kisses do to me… what’ll happen if we actually have sex?

your eyes snap open. “okay, no. no! i didn’t mean toji, i meant, like… any guy! any guy at all! but, oh god, why is it always him?!”

you stare at the ceiling, huffing as your brain keeps looping back to him.

his stupidly attractive smirk, the way his hand was firm but gentle on your back, how he looked at you as if you were his next breath.

girl, get a grip.

“this is ridiculous,” you mutter, swatting at your face like it’ll erase his image from your mind. but it doesn’t work; he’s right there, all hot and smug in your imagination. ugh, this isn’t fair!

it’s like all those countless hours you spent spinning erotic fantasies are coming back to haunt you — and in the most inconvenient, infuriating way possible. you scrunch up your face, realizing with mild horror that maybe… just maybe… you wrote this scenario into existence for yourself.

“oh no… is this karma?” you groan, curling up and swatting the air in helpless embarrassment. “girl, this is not supposed to happen in real life. or with toji.”

but there it is: his face, and your wildly racing heart, and the undeniable, excruciating heat pooling in your belly that refuses to quit.

but even with the spiraling, there’s one thing you can’t deny: as much as it’s driving you crazy, as much as you’re practically scaring yourself into thinking you’ve just made the worst mistake of your life…

you kinda don’t regret it. and that’s the scariest part.

ah, shit.

you step into gojo-sonic, clutching your bag with a little more intensity than usual, and it’s as if you’ve entered an alternate dimension.

the energy is somehow… different. you expect to be greeted with the usual casual nods and waves, but instead, gojo is practically skipping toward you, arms spread wide like he’s welcoming the new queen of the recording studio.

“there she is! our star of the show, our resident heart-throb wrangler!” he coos, louder than necessary. his grin is blinding, and you’re caught between the urge to backpedal out of the building or dive under the nearest desk.

“uh… good morning?” you reply, more like a question than a statement, glancing around to see if anyone else is picking up on his hyperness. it’s like he’s had twelve cups of coffee or ten bags of skittles. “gojo, you’re… kind of extra today.”

“extra? extra?” he throws a hand over his heart, eyes gleaming. “honey, i’m never just ‘extra.’ i am exactly the right amount of gojo for the occasion.”

“and what occasion is that, exactly?”

“oh, nothing much, just a certain someone having an… enlightening encounter last night,” he says with a wink so exaggerated it looks like he’s trying to shoo a bug off his face.

you stiffen. “wait, how do you…?”

“oh, come on,” he waves it off, laughing. “you think you can keep something like that from me? i mean, i might be blessed with an enormous amount of talent, looks, and charisma, but i also happen to have eyes and ears everywhere.” he taps his temple, looking ridiculously pleased with himself.

“seriously?” you glance around, your stomach sinking a little, looking for any sign of smirking coworkers or curious eyes, but everyone’s just… normal? going about their business, not sparing you a second glance. relief washes over you, only to be swept away by gojo’s piercing stare.

“oh, don’t worry. i haven’t shared your scandalous rendezvous with the world. only i am privy to this delightful information — for now,” he adds, wagging a finger. “and don’t look so shocked! nothing juicy stays hidden from me for long. i know all the company secrets.”

you feel heat rise to your cheeks, equal parts exasperated and embarrassed. “gojo, it wasn’t even that big of a deal. it’s not like…” you trail off, realizing he’s hanging on to your every word, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“uh-huh,” he drawls, drawing the word out. “not a big deal, you say? then why do you look like you’re about to start sweating bullets?”

“i’m not sweating bullets,” you say through clenched teeth, then give in and sigh. “look, we just… it was just a… i mean, we’re colleagues, and things got a little… friendly. it doesn’t have to mean anything!”

gojo gasps, mock-horrified. “oh, but darling, this is precisely why it’s so interesting! you, of all people, getting caught up with toji fushiguro? and here i thought you’d sworn off office romances.”

“it’s not an office romance,” you insist, voice practically a whisper. “we just… kissed. once. or twice. maybe. but it doesn’t mean anything!”

gojo leans in, conspiratorially. “and yet you look ready to combust from the inside out just talking about it.”

you huff, throwing him a half-hearted glare. “maybe it’s because someone is making this into a bigger deal than it actually is.”

“you wound me!” he presses a hand dramatically to his chest, giving you an exaggerated pout. “but don’t worry, your little secret is safe with me. i only told you so you’d know that i know. and, you know, to make things extra awkward in case mr. heart-throb walks in.”

“oh, so you’re really just out to make my life difficult?”

he grins, all teeth. “precisely.”

just then, as if summoned by some cruel twist of fate, toji strolls in. he’s the absolute picture of normalcy, no hint whatsoever of last night’s… moment.

in fact, he gives you a polite nod, a polite nod, as if he hadn’t had you pressed against your own door just hours ago.

“morning,” he says casually, voice smooth, tone nonchalant. he doesn’t even so much as smirk.

you nearly choke. polite nod? normal greeting? did he forget the entire thing?

“oh, morning,” you manage, clearing your throat, feeling like you’re about to combust again.

gojo, however, is having the time of his life. he’s practically vibrating next to you, watching the exchange with glee.

“morninggg, fushiguro,” he greets toji, voice syrupy with unrestrained glee. “any exciting news today?”

toji raises an eyebrow, shooting him a confused look. “uh, no? everything’s pretty normal.” his eyes flick over to you, calm, almost neutral, as if he hadn’t kissed you senseless just last night.

you clench your jaw. is he really going to act like this? you nearly feel like gaslighting yourself into thinking last night never happened. maybe you just dreamed it, right?

toji’s gaze flicks away from you, unperturbed, as he moves over to get his things ready for the day’s recording. and that’s when gojo leans over and mutters under his breath, “you sure you don’t want to just… remind him?”

“i hate you,” you mutter back, trying not to smile, knowing that he’s secretly rooting for you to fall flat on your face with this whole ordeal.

“i live for your misery, my friend,” he replies with a wink.

meanwhile, toji was absolutely in another dimension of romcom chaos himself, feeling like some kind of high school kid who just had his first crush. he woke up grinning, actually giggling as he got dressed.

giggling. when was the last time he did that?

he nearly skipped out the door, and on his drive to work, he found himself humming, humming, to his car stereo like some lovestruck fool. and he didn’t stop there. oh no.

by the time he reached gojo-sonic, he’d already run through a few extra vocal warm-ups in the car — something he never did this early. he cleared his throat and ran through his usual lines twice, even testing his pitch a bit. no, not because he wanted to be extra smooth today, of course not. he was doing it for the… for the paycheck.

definitely.

but as soon as he walked into the studio, and he saw you standing there beside gojo, looking all kinds of pretty and polished… he practically heard violins. except no, it wasn’t violins.

it was, somehow, worse.

his mind cued up dancing queen.

“no. nope. nope.” he muttered under his breath, trying to swat the ridiculous soundtrack out of his mind. but it wouldn’t stop.

“dancing queen, feel the beat from the tambourine, oh, yeah….”

why, in the name of all things sacred, was his brain doing this to him? he was toji fushiguro, not some idiot falling over his own feet for a girl at work. he gave himself a good shake, squared his shoulders, and tried to keep his composure. yet every time he caught your eye, his chest did a little flip — and dammit if he didn’t want to just pick you up and give you another kiss right then and there.

“morning,” he forced out, nodding as casually as he could.

and there you were, gaping back with that hint of nervousness, looking like you might combust from just a regular “good morning.”

god, it was almost cute enough to make him actually laugh out loud.

“she’s just a colleague,” he reminded himself, over and over again, as he worked to keep the grin off his face. “a colleague. not some romcom lead you just made out with in front of her apartment.”

yet the way dancing queen kept droning in his head, as if mocking his every move? toji was seriously questioning whether he’d woken up in some kind of alternate reality.

and he just knew gojo was watching the whole thing with a smug look, likely dying to crack a joke, or worse, belt out dancing queen if he somehow figured out what was in toji’s head.

and knowing gojo? he probably already had.

the studio door clicked shut as gojo swept out with an exaggerated bow, holding up his finger in a silent “one minute” before he launched into his call with suguru in a voice loud enough to be heard two floors down. gojo was probably already going on about the “incredible chemistry” between his favorite team members, or whatever nonsense he’d decided on for today.

and with him out of the room, it was just you and toji.

alone.

in silence.

you shifted on your feet, eyes darting everywhere except directly at him, yet somehow landing right back on him. it was like your brain had a toji magnet switched on, and no matter how hard you tried to look elsewhere, you found yourself glancing back at him.

finally, the quiet got so charged that you both ended up blurting out at the exact same time —

“are you single?”

you both froze, then looked at each other, wide-eyed, like you couldn’t believe you’d just asked that out loud.

“uh,” toji coughed, scratching the back of his neck. “well. yeah, i am. single, that is.

“oh.” you tried to act cool, but it came out as a slightly breathless squeak. “good to know.”

“and you?” he asked, voice low, almost cautious, as if bracing himself for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

“also single,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “which… is also good to know.”

there was a beat of quiet where you both just kind of looked at each other, a half-smile creeping onto his face as you kept shifting on your feet, practically melting under the intensity of his gaze.

“so…” you cleared your throat, your hands fidgeting a little as you gathered the nerve to ask the next thing. “didn’t know you had a kid.”

“oh, yeah.” toji chuckled, a hint of fondness lighting up his expression as he thought of his son. “he’s my kid, alright. handful and a half, that one.”

“he’s adorable.” you smiled, thinking back to the mini toji who had totally stolen your heart. “how old is he?”

“eight.” toji’s voice softened, a rare warmth in his tone that you’d never heard before. “he, uh… he means a lot to me. not that i’d ever tell him that, though. don’t want him thinking he’s got me wrapped around his little finger or anything.”

you laughed, picturing the little boy with his big grin and fearless energy. “something tells me he already knows.”

“yeah, probably.” toji laughed too, and for a moment, there was an ease between you, a shared warmth that made the whole moment feel so… natural.

“so… um, are you, like… a single dad?” you asked, careful with your words, not wanting to pry too deeply.

“yeah.” his answer was simple, but there was a weight to it. “just me and the kid. been that way for a while.”

“that’s…” you bit your lip, not sure what to say without sounding weirdly sentimental. “that’s admirable. megumi’s lucky to have you.

“i don’t know about all that,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable with the praise but unable to hide a small smile. “just doing what i can, you know?”

“still,” you said, feeling a swell of admiration you hadn’t expected. “it’s impressive. and honestly… seeing you with him yesterday? it was… kinda heartwarming.”

toji looked at you, eyes softening in a way that made your heart stutter.

“thanks,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. “means a lot, hearing that.”

the two of you stood there, closer than you realized, in this weird bubble where everything felt warm and intense and perfect. just as you felt that strange magnetic pull drawing you closer, like maybe you’d just close the gap and —

the studio door banged open.

“don’t stop on my account!” gojo sing-songed, practically sashaying back into the room, a smirk plastered across his face.

you both leaped back, clearing your throats and suddenly finding the walls, the floor, anything else in the room utterly fascinating.

“alright, lovebirds, let’s get this recording started, shall we?” gojo grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked between the two of you, not even pretending he hadn’t just caught a whole moment.

toji settled into the recording booth, leaning back in the chair with the script in hand, his voice dipping to that low, gravelly tone that made every line sound like an invitation.

“so,” he began, speaking as the dragon king to the main character in the script, his words practically dripping with intensity, “you think you can resist me? i see right through you… even the bravest warriors have trembled at my touch.”

your breath caught as he delivered the line, eyes wide as you watched him through the glass.

you couldn’t help it — his character was practically staring into your soul, voice thick and slow, practically wrapping around each word.

“do you know what happens to those who challenge me?” toji continued, his eyes narrowing as he held the script in one hand, his gaze piercing. “they are forced to surrender… one way or another.”

outside the booth, you practically felt yourself melting, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you fidgeted with the edge of your shirt.

toji’s voice, his delivery — it was all too much. how was it possible for him to sound that… that intense? it was like he was actually speaking to you.

“ah, beautiful.” gojo, standing beside you, broke in with a theatrical sigh. “our dragon king sounds magnificent, doesn’t he? i could practically faint!”

you shot him a quick glare, barely masking a smirk. “keep it down, gojo. he’s in the middle of it.”

“oh, i’m just here to appreciate the artistry,” gojo whispered back, feigning innocence as he leaned in to watch, hands clasped together dramatically.

“the choice is yours,” toji went on, his voice softer now, laced with something tender that made it impossible to look away. “join me… or keep pretending this —” he emphasized the word, letting it linger “ — isn’t exactly what you’ve been wanting.”

you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze even through the glass.

was he delivering that line as the dragon king or as… well, toji?

but then —

“ohhhh!” gojo chimed in loudly, clutching his chest as if he’d been struck by an arrow. “the passion! the romance! our hero’s heart is pounding!”

toji paused, rolling his eyes as he looked at gojo through the glass. “you really gonna keep interrupting, gojo?”

“oh, don’t mind me,” gojo said, waving a hand. “i’m simply enjoying the magic in the air! please, carry on. do go on.” he pretended to dab at his eyes. “so moving.”

toji gave a small sigh but threw you a barely-there smile before settling back into character.

“and when you finally stop running…” his voice softened, a quiet urgency threading through it.

“i’ll be here, waiting… because you belong to me, whether you admit it or not.”

your heart skipped a beat, and you found yourself leaning in, hanging onto every word, caught up in the sheer pull of his voice.

you didn’t know if it was his talent as a voice actor, the lines he was reading, or him, but every word was drawing you in deeper, bit by bit.

“ah, what is it like to be so passionately claimed by a dragon king? how riveting!” gojo murmured dramatically, as if providing a play-by-play to an audience. “she’s helpless, entranced! they both know she’s falling!”

toji cast a pointed look at gojo, barely concealing a smirk. “you done yet, gojo?”

gojo merely grinned, shrugging. “hey, i’m just here to make sure the romance shines through. and oh, don’t worry — it’s definitely shining.”

toji rolled his eyes but kept going, lowering his voice to a rumbling murmur. “if you don’t know where your heart lies, then i’ll show you.”

he paused, his words lingering in the air like a promise, like he was speaking directly to you.

by now, the studio felt suffused with tension, thick enough to cut with a knife. it didn’t help that every time gojo piped in with another comment, it only made you feel more painfully aware of every detail: the way toji’s gaze kept flickering your way, the way your own pulse raced faster with each line he spoke.

“the truth is right in front of you,” toji continued, his voice dropping low, rough, something smoldering behind each word. “all you have to do is reach out… and claim it.”

“gorgeous! breathtaking!” gojo burst out, clapping his hands loudly. “i can practically see the sparks flying! ah, young love!”

toji finally broke character, raising a brow at gojo with a look of pure exasperation. “you gonna let me finish or not?”

gojo waved a hand. “fine, fine. but for real — if you two don’t kiss after this, i might have to stage a re-shoot.”

both you and toji threw your hands up simultaneously, voices raised in exasperation.

“gojo, would you please stop interrupting!”

“yeah, seriously, man,” toji added, shaking his head as he glanced over at you with a shared look of pure frustration.

“okay, okay! sheesh!” gojo shrieked, actually shrieked, as he staggered back in mock terror, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “all i wanted was to witness some workplace romance! is that so wrong?”

“yes, gojo, very wrong,” you shot back, rubbing your temples. “this is literally supposed to be professional — you should know that.”

toji snorted, crossing his arms as he smirked at gojo. “for once, i agree. you’ve got all the dramatic flair of a middle-schooler.”

“excuse me,” gojo replied, flipping an imaginary hair strand over his shoulder. “i’ll have you know my artistic eye is very advanced.” he let out a huff, but from the grin on his face, you could tell he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

you shook your head, exasperated. “look, can we just get this recording done without any more —”

“interruptions,” toji finished for you, raising a brow as he glanced over at gojo.

“fine, fine!” gojo finally backed off, dramatically sliding into a chair in the corner, arms folded in mock offense. “i’ll be silent as a stone. a beautiful, thoughtful stone.”

you exchanged another look with toji, both of you sighing in unison.

something told you both that it was going to be a very long day, especially with gojo’s creative direction…

toji, after finishing a solid block of recording, had ended up chatting with the sound techs, leaving you flipping through your phone while you waited.

gojo, in his usual meddling fashion, suddenly brightened up and declared, “oh! why don’t you have a little chat with suguru? i told him you were here. he insisted on saying hello!”

you raised an eyebrow. “uh, sure?”

gojo sent you a link to join the video call, and soon suguru’s face popped up on the screen. his calm expression softened slightly when he saw you. “well, hello there. gojo wasn’t exaggerating when he said he had a new ‘star’ at the studio.”

you laughed, feeling a bit flustered. “thanks, geto! i hear you’re a partner at a... famous wine company?”

suguru gave a modest shrug. “yeah, it’s called persephone. it’s a small project that grew bigger than i expected. i handle a lot of the sourcing and marketing — keeps me away from here most of the time.”

“persephone? i’ve heard great things about it!” you said, genuinely impressed. “the way gojo talks about it, it sounds like a pretty big deal.”

he chuckled, glancing to the side as if recalling memories. “i started it with a... friend, actually. she was passionate about wine and had a vision that i couldn’t help but support. i guess i have a soft spot for her, and i... well, care about her a lot.”

you felt your heart warm a little at his sincerity, and the slight hesitation when he spoke of his partner. “it sounds like you two have something special going on,” you said, offering a supportive smile. “i’m sure she appreciates everything you do, especially with how involved you are. and honestly? best of luck. that kind of partnership sounds really meaningful.”

suguru gave a small nod, a faint, appreciative smile on his face.

“thank you. i think she’d like you. maybe one day, if you ever make it out here for one of gojo’s wild wine-tasting parties, we can all meet up.”

“i’d love that!” you replied, already imagining how intriguing that partnership might be. and as you finished up the conversation, it struck you that you’d gotten a glimpse of a different side of suguru — one he clearly didn’t reveal often.

toji hadn’t meant to get distracted, but the second he saw you on a video call with suguru, laughing over whatever he was saying, he couldn’t help it. he’d been halfway listening to the sound tech drone on about waveform patterns, but all of that faded when he caught sight of you smiling on-screen.

who exactly were you talking to like that? why did you look so happy?

the tech was still talking beside him, but toji’s focus was elsewhere.

suguru.

that damn calm, collected face of his.

the same suguru who he’d seen only sparingly around the company, mostly through gojo’s random updates, but who was still one of the few people gojo actually respected.

toji squinted, his jaw tightening as he took a few steps toward you and pretended it was a casual stroll.

why was he doing this? it wasn’t like he had any claim on you, right?

sure, there was that one kiss — or, well, those two kisses, actually.

but still.

he was a grown man, not some jealous kid. yet here he was, feeling like he had to size up suguru over a damn screen.

before he even realized it, toji had closed the distance. without asking, he leaned over your shoulder, practically shoving his face into the camera view as he met suguru’s face.

“hey, suguru,” he drawled, and the way his voice came out a little gruff didn’t escape him. “didn’t know you were interrupting a busy studio day here.”

you blinked, wide-eyed at his sudden closeness, but toji kept his eyes on suguru, ignoring your flustered reaction. suguru looked almost amused, raising an eyebrow at toji’s unannounced intrusion.

“toji. i’m just saying hi to the new talent here,” suguru replied with a smooth smile, clearly unfazed. “i’m sure you wouldn’t mind me meeting one of satoru’s top finds.”

“top find?” toji scoffed, feeling a weird pang at the words. “i’m the one doing all the work here.”

you shot him a look, somewhere between surprised and amused. “toji —”

but he just grunted and kept going, ignoring your attempt to intervene. “so, suguru, been busy with all that wine business, huh?” he went on, as if suguru’s whole life story had suddenly become his priority.

“pretty much,” suguru replied, a slight smirk in his tone. “it’s been keeping me busy, and i have a…close partner who keeps me grounded. speaking of which,” he turned his gaze to you with an amused smile, “she was the one who started persephone. i’m really just there to support her vision.”

“sounds convenient,” toji muttered, but suguru just chuckled.

you nudged him with your elbow, giving him a warning look. “toji, come on,” you whispered, as if he was the one being out of line here.

he let out a low sigh, then pulled back slightly, looking at you as if he’d just remembered himself. “what? ’m just makin’ sure you’re not getting dragged into any fancy wine scams or whatever.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide a smile. “geto’s company is doing fine, toji. it’s called persephone.”

toji folded his arms and gave a dismissive shrug. “well, just saying. i know people.”

the whole room seemed to go a bit quieter, and toji cleared his throat, looking away from suguru's patient amusement.

“nice meeting you, toji,” suguru added, with a slight tilt of his head. “take care of our new ‘top find’ there, alright?”

toji clenched his jaw a little at the words, then nodded, pretending he wasn’t glaring at the camera. “yeah, yeah. we’re all set here.”

as the call ended, you turned to him, eyebrows raised, clearly wanting an explanation. “what was that about?”

toji scratched the back of his neck, trying to look casual. “just, y’know…making sure you weren’t getting yourself in with shady people.”

“oh? like, you?”

he let out a bark of laughter, realizing he’d backed himself into a corner. “hey, i’m not shady — i’m just thorough.”

you raised an eyebrow. “thorough? right, that’s the word you’re going with?”

“yeah. and what — you mad at me for caring?”

at that, you went quiet, a faint blush touching your cheeks.

and toji? well, he could only think of those two kisses again, and how stupidly close he’d just gotten to the camera just to… what? size up suguru?

he mentally groaned. what was wrong with him?

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