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anxiouscherubs · 5 days ago

Text

find you in my heart

✦ summary: the one where you get dumped and your best friend is there to help you realize what you truly deserve… what’s been in front of you all along.

✦ warnings/tags: MDNI! 18+, explicit, smut, slight angst, some fluff, oral sex (f receiving), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, throat fucking, big dick yh, unprotected sex (be safe!), yh is desperately in love, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, mentions of cheating (past relationships), yh and reader met as baristas, pet names, au where jeong yunho can actually cook, yunho is a lil possessive

✦ pairing: nonidol!yunho x reader

✦ author’s note: as a yunho ult, a yh best friends to lovers has been at the top of my list of things to write. i started this fic after yun posted these photos because i just could not get the vision of late night walks with him out of my head! i am new to writing so any feedback is appreciated. i hope you enjoy ♡ as always, thank you to my lovely best friends for enabling me and proofreading my depravity. love you guys forever. ♡

✦ word count: 12.9k

✦ read it on ao3: here

Two years. Two years down the drain because your ex decided he “wasn’t feeling it anymore.” You had a sneaking suspicion his change of heart had to do with his hot new coworker, but you couldn’t think too far into it or it would rip you apart more than he already had.

He had grown distant, and you chalked it up to the stress of his new job. But when he started staying late every other day and missing your sacred Thursday date nights, you knew it was the beginning of the end. You were happy together (most of the time), but you were never certain you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with him. There were certain things about him that you tolerated, but you wanted your forever to be spent with someone who felt perfect for you. And he… didn’t.

Even though you knew he wasn’t who you’d spend your life with, it stung just the same to receive his messages.

loser: hey y/n… i’ve been thinking about this for a while now but i think it’s time for us to part ways.

loser: we’ve had a good run, but i’m just not really feeling it anymore. i hope you understand.

loser: wish you the best. xx

You’d changed his contact and blocked his number immediately, saving yourself from the hurtful words he’d throw your way if you tried to ask for any reasoning or clarification. He always turned into a different person the moment you tried to express your emotions.

“She’s just a coworker, y/n, stop being crazy. You don’t have to worry about her.”

You push his words out of your brain again before they take over. So what if he left you for her? They probably deserve each other. You knew you were better off, that wasn’t the issue. It was that you settled for two years, letting this man who clearly didn’t respect you treat you like an afterthought the entire time. The more you think about it, the more you blame yourself for placing such little value on your own time and energy.

You sit on your couch, your coffee table littered with tear-soaked tissues and instant ramen cups. You haven’t left the house since you got The Texts last night, and you've watched a season of your favorite crime show and eaten your body weight in Buldak since then. You know you can’t sit here and wallow anymore or you’ll start to lose your mind, so you drag yourself to the bathroom to assess the damage. Eyes red and puffy from crying, hair tangled and tied loosely in a scrunchie, tear drops lingering on the same sweatshirt you’d been wearing for the last 24 hours. You look like hell.

“I need to get out of this apartment,” you say to yourself. You pull out your phone and send a quick text to your best friend before hopping in the shower. After washing your hair 3 times, shaving your legs, and exfoliating the sadness away, you’re finally starting to feel human again. You wrap yourself in your favorite towel before checking your phone again.

y/n: yunnie… are you free tonight?

yunho: for you? absolutely. you ok? haven’t heard from you all day.

Of course he’d notice you going MIA for a day. You and your best friend texted every single day, sending quick little updates or funny videos. He’d probably been worried sick, but he never wants to pry. He’s always respected your space like that.

y/n: long story. i’ll explain later.

y/n: meet me in front of blossom in 30?

Blossom was the cafe you and Yunho met working at. You were both burning the candle at both ends working nearly full time as baristas during your senior year of college. Your closing shifts together kept you sane during finals, blasting music and sharing your life stories while you cleaned up the shop. He’d even walk you home, after every closing shift, never wanting to let you walk alone so late. You both gave your two weeks notice right after graduation, but promised each other you’d make up for all the time you wouldn’t spend working together anymore.

That was four years ago, and he’d been such a stable presence in your life since then. You’d grown closer over the years, spending countless movie nights and BBQ dates together. He knew everything about you (after a movie night with too much wine and lots of oversharing) and hadn’t gone running for the hills, so you knew he really cared. You didn’t really have time to make friends in college because you were either working, in class, or studying, so he was really all you had. He was your safe space. You both stayed close by after graduation, staying in your apartments in the city 2 blocks from the cafe on either side. It was nice having your best friend so close by, and the cafe remained a staple in your friendship as a middle point between your two homes. In your reminiscing, you realize you missed your Saturday morning coffee date with him.

yunho: of course, bean. i missed you this morning.

Your heart fluttered in your chest at the nickname. It always does. That, and when he calls you sweetheart. Your heart almost came up your throat the first time he pulled that one. Yunho started calling you bean after you spilled an entire bag of light roast on the cafe floor trying to refill the hopper for the openers. He’ll never let you live that one down. You remembered giggling and scooping coffee beans off the floor on your hands and knees together, his hand brushing over yours when you both reached for the dustpan, your eyes meeting, breath quickening…

You shake the memory from your brain, coming back to reality just as you both had snapped out of it in the moment four years ago, scattering to finish cleaning up and avoiding eye contact the rest of the night. You always dismissed the electricity you felt when his skin touched yours, blaming the exhaustion from working a closing shift after being up all night studying. He had a girlfriend at the time, he wouldn’t have been interested in you that way anyway. He’s your friend, y/n, be realistic. You’re reaching. You send another quick text before getting dressed, and he of course responds right away.

y/n: i missed you too, i’m sorry i should’ve texted. it’s been a shitty 24 hours. i’ll see you soon

yunho: no need to apologize. i’ll be there, see you in a bit.

25 minutes pass and you somehow manage to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You dried your hair and pulled half of it up in a claw clip, leaving some pieces out to frame your face. You threw on some concealer and a bit of blush, trying to hide how puffy your eyes still were. It was a chilly fall night, so you opted for your favorite pair of light wash jeans and an oversized black sweater, accompanied by your beat up black chelsea boots and your gray wool coat.

After a quick 5 minute walk you round the corner to see Yunho standing in front of the cafe, his back facing you. Of course he’s right on time. His broad shoulders fill out the black jacket he’s wearing, his crossbody bag tucked under his arm. The neon sign in the cafe window leaves a purple hue reflecting off his freshly dyed dark gray hair. He turns his head at a car passing by, and you catch yourself smiling at the lost puppy look in his eyes. He must’ve seen you approaching in his peripheral, his head snapping in your direction. A subtle smile plays on his lips as he locks eyes with you. His warm brown eyes are full of an emotion you can’t quite name.

Your chest aches at the realization that your ex, in the two years you were together, never looked at you like that. Why did you ever think you were important to him? Your throat suddenly tightens and your vision starts to blur, tears welling in your eyes for the millionth time today. Yunho’s smile drops, his brow furrowing as he takes two long strides to meet you.

“Y/n, what is it, what happened?” He reaches for your shoulders to hold you steady, but you push forward to bury your face in his chest. He wraps his arms around you without hesitation, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other snakes around your shoulders. Your hands find his waist, gripping his shirt underneath his jacket. His familiar scent of jasmine envelops you, and you realize how badly you needed your best friend to help you through this.

”H-He dumped me,” you sniffle, letting out a shaky breath into Yunho’s chest, “he d-dumped me yesterday, through a fucking t-text message,” another unsteady exhale as you try to level your breathing.

“He did what?!” He pulls you in closer to him, the disbelief lacing his tone reassuring how rational your feelings are.

“It’s over,” you blink away your tears, tilting your head back to look up at your best friend. You’ve never seen the expression on his face before, like anger and worry are battling it out in his brain, and he can’t decide which one should take center stage first. “He texted me last night, saying he ‘wasn’t feeling it anymore’ and he ‘wished me the best,’” your mocking tone repeating his words reignited the angry flame in your chest.

“Wished you the best,” he scoffs, “is he kidding?” He rolls his eyes. “That’s how you end a two-year-long relationship?” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, taking a half step back to give you some more space to catch your breath.

“I can’t believe I wasted two years of my life with someone who just kicked me to the curb without a second thought,” you pinch the fabric of his shirt between your fingers, your eyes lingering on his collarbone peeking out from his slightly unbuttoned shirt. “I’m convinced he left me for a coworker, the one he told me not to worry about.” A humorless laugh leaves your lips, the burning feeling behind your eyes returning as more tears come. “I’m more upset with myself for letting him treat me like this for so long,”

“Hey, look at me,” Yunho cautiously brings his hands to your face, cradling your head gently. You lean into his touch, dragging your gaze up to meet his.

“He doesn’t know what he just threw away, sweetheart,” Yunho holds your teary cheeks in his hands. “You are the most beautiful creature this world has ever seen, and if he doesn’t see that, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” You choke out between sniffles.

“Oh y/n… of course I do. I always have,” he wipes a tear from your cheek before it reaches your lips, “since the day I met you.”

Your breath catches in your throat at his admission, your chin wobbling as you try to hold it together.

His eyes search yours, that unspoken emotion taking over his features again. You almost catch the moment he shakes it away, reminding himself that he’s here to support you. His hands fall from your cheeks to grab your hands instead, that familiar electricity prickling your skin as he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Do you wanna go inside? I called ahead and ordered you a maple latte and a raspberry scone as soon as I got your text.” He tilts his head in the direction of the cafe next to you.

You look inside to see two to-go cups and a brown paper bag sitting on the counter. “And an iced caramel latte for you, I’m assuming,” you poke his stomach teasingly, “thank you, Yun, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” he gently squeezes your hands, a warm smile taking over his features. “Come on, it seems like we have a lot to catch up on. I have a feeling you have a lot to get off your chest.” He lets go of one hand, keeping hold of the other to walk you to the door. You lace your fingers through his, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

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You’d spent the last hour sitting in your favorite booth with Yunho, hashing through every single thing you hated about your ex. He was appalled by the things you’d told him, wishing he knew sooner so he could’ve tried to help you see you deserve someone better. Someone who valued your emotions, understood your needs, respected your boundaries… Someone like —

“Yunho, are you with me?” Your voice shakes him out of his daze, bringing him back to the conversation.

“Sorry bean, I just can’t believe he was such an asshole behind closed doors,” he recovers, “I wish you told me sooner. I feel like I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been.”

”It’s not your fault, I could’ve told you and I didn’t. I think I was in denial,” you scoff. ”I was settling and I knew it, I was just trying to pretend things were better, but I think I’d been checked out for a while.” You swirl your coffee around in your cup, avoiding the concerned look in his eye. If you looked at him too long, you’d risk reading something deeper in the way he cares about you, something that made your heart flutter and ache all at once.

”Y/n, do you remember the girl I was dating when we met?” His tone shifts, a slight vulnerability creeping in. You stop moving your cup, watching the drink settle. You nod hesitantly, still avoiding his eyes.

Of course you remember her. You had developed a crush on Yunho in your first week working together, but you had to smother it at the first mention of her. Any hope you had left for a chance with him disintegrated the first time you saw her — she was the kind of beautiful you only saw on TV. Flawless skin, no split ends, a perfectly sculpted body. Even her voice was smooth. She seemed perfect for him.

“She cheated on me.”

Your head snaps up to him in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

You remember him telling you they broke up in passing — it had been a month after you started a relationship of your own. Part of you always wondered if you had just missed your window to pursue something with Yunho, but you pushed that thought out of your head so you could be present for your best friend. He didn’t want to go into detail about the breakup at the time, and he never did in the two years that followed.

“For the last six months of our relationship, she’d been sleeping with someone she reconnected with from high school. They realized they loved each other, and she ended things.” He offers a sad smile, but the bitterness lingers beneath the surface. You feel a tightness in your chest wondering why he didn’t want to share his pain with you while all of this was going on.

”Oh, Yunnie,” you reach for his hand across the table, holding his large palm in yours. “I’m so sorry. I don’t understand how anyone could ever do that to you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Maybe we can call it even?” He lets out a breathy laugh, ignoring your question. “You didn’t tell me your relationship troubles, I didn’t tell you mine. Now it’s all on the table and we can leave it in the past.” He squeezes your hand, waiting for your response.

“Fine.” You flash a tight lipped smile, wanting to hash this open again with him at a later time. You didn’t keep secrets from each other, so why was he avoiding getting into this with you?

“Well, it’s almost closing time.” Of course he’s gonna change the subject. “Do you need a night alone or are you coming home with me tonight?” He forces a smile from across the table, and you could’ve sworn his ears turned the slightest bit red asking you to spend the night. Sleepovers weren’t out of the norm for the two of you, but this proposal felt different for some reason.

“I think if I’m alone at my place tonight I’ll revert to the sad couch potato I was before I texted you earlier.” You don’t really believe that, feeling like you’ve moved past the depression stage of grief and slowly inching toward acceptance. But you still wanted the company.

“I’d love to come home with you, Yunnie.”

“Then let’s go, sweetheart.”

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Your neighborhood was so beautiful at night. The soft streetlights cast a gentle glow on the sidewalk, illuminating little puddles of water from last night’s rain. The fall air feels cool and crisp, carrying the faint smell of the changing leaves. This late at night, the stillness is calming… usually.

You two had found this to be the perfect environment to have your deepest talks. Taking regular nighttime walks with Yunho had become one of your cherished rituals, especially when one of you needed to get something off your chest. You’d shared fragments of your lives, from your family drama to his frequent arguments with a stubborn coworker at his new job. But tonight, a suffocating silence swirls around you.

You’d taken a full lap around the neighborhood in silence since leaving Blossom, the familiar path devoid of your usual chatter. As you approach Yunho’s place, his brisk pace and hands shoved deep in his pockets told you he wasn’t going to be the one to acknowledge it. He was never one for confrontation. If he wouldn’t tell you what’s going on voluntarily, you’d have to coax it out of him.

You stop walking, the cool air feeling sharper on your skin. He takes three more strides before he stops too, spinning back around to face you, confusion etched on his devastatingly handsome features.

“You okay, bean?” he asks, tilting his head at you, genuine concern flickering in his eyes.

“I feel like I should be asking you the same thing,” you reply, barely above a whisper. Maybe you weren’t one for confrontation either.

He takes a step closer to you, “I’m fine,” he says with a quick shrug and a slight shake of his head.

“Then why haven’t you spoken to me since we left Blossom? Did I say something to upset you?” You try your hardest to grab your frustration before it bubbles up, but you can already tell it’s too late. His dismissive tone, both here and at the cafe, gnaws at you. It triggers something inside of you from your recently ended relationship, and you feel on the verge of either shutting down or letting your emotions spiral.

“I just thought you might want a quiet walk is all.” He can barely look you in the eye, and that’s when you know something is very wrong.

“Come on Yun, you know that’s not what’s going on. Something is bothering you.” The frustration claws higher and higher, an unwelcome tightness gripping at your chest. Don’t cry, y/n.

He opens his mouth, the words hanging on the tip of his tongue, but stops himself, his hands finally pulling from his pockets to rest on his hips. He stares at a fallen leaf swirling in a puddle between you.

“Is it because we talked about your ex?” He winces just a little at your words. “I didn’t mean to open old wounds, I just thought after everything we’ve shared with each other that you’d want to talk to me about it.” You don’t mean for your words to sound accusatory, but based on the way his body tenses, you realize they must have.

“It’s not that, y/n, it’s not about…” his voice trails off into a sigh. His eyes search yours, his mind racing trying to decide if he wants to get into what’s really going on, what he’s been keeping inside for so long.

“Then what is it?” You’re grasping at straws, desperately trying to get him to give you anything to go off of. When you’re met with more silence and an indiscernible look in his eyes, you push forward.

“I just don’t get why you wouldn’t tell me she cheated on you Yun, we help each other through everything.” Anger wells up in you, more at yourself for not asking him to open up to you about it at the time.

“Y/n, please, it’s more complicated than just her cheating, and I just don’t know if now is the best time to get into it, you’re still—”

“Still what, Yunho? Grieving my own relationship? Just because I just got dumped doesn’t mean I can’t be here for you!” Your voice rises, each word sharp, the tension in your throat threatening to break. “You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle, that’s not up to you—”

“Fine,” he interrupts, “do you wanna know the real reason I didn’t tell you, y/n? Is that what you want?” His ears redden, and you can’t tell if he’s angry, embarrassed, or a combination of the two. You nod hesitantly. “I didn’t tell you she cheated because I didn’t care, okay? I didn’t care. Her heart wasn’t in it anymore, but neither was mine.” His chest heaves, squeezing his eyes shut tight for a brief moment to brace himself.

“I didn’t care that she cheated, because I didn’t want her anyway.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I wanted you.”

Oh.

His eyes burn into yours as his words hang in the air between the two of you.

“Yunho…” You take a step toward him only for him to take a step back. Your heart is pounding so hard in your chest, you wonder if he can hear it. What is happening right now?

“I’m sorry y/n, I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I’ve held it in for so long, and I just can’t do it anymore, I—” He stutters over his words, “I wasn’t grieving my relationship, I was grieving yours. You found someone just before she ended things with me, and I realized maybe you and I weren’t meant to be. That we’d never have the chance to try.” His eyes gloss over with pent up emotion, thinking about all the time he spent wondering what could’ve been. “I wanted you, but I had to act like I didn’t, and we were becoming such good friends, I didn’t want to ruin it, I just—”

”Did you think I didn’t feel the same?” You interrupt him. “That I don’t feel the same now?”

He tilts his head at you, the tension in his body visibly disintegrating. “What are you saying?” Brows furrowing, cheeks blushing, so many emotions flying through his features at a speed neither of you can process. He runs his hands down his face before resting them on his hips. “Sweetheart, what are you saying?”

“I wanted you, too, Yun…” The words tumble out of you, a rush of honesty that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. “I want you too.”

He takes another step toward you, his mind racing as he searches for answers to never ending questions. “You did?” Another step. “You do?”

“Yes, and yes,” you nod, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at your admission—both to Yunho and to you. You realize you’d never said it out loud before, not even to yourself.

“Say it again,” he urges, closing the gap between the two of you. One hand finds your waist while the other gently cradles the back of your neck. His touch lights a fire on your skin, his hands feeling heavier on your body than they ever have before. Your hands find their way to his waist, tugging him closer to you. Chests heaving, hearts racing.

“I want you, Yunho.”

The tension between you peaks, your grip tightening on one another, like if either one of you lets go, the moment will slip away. Yunho’s eyes search yours, looking for confirmation.

He gently cups your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, wiping away the remnants of your tears. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, igniting the familiar spark that had always lingered between the two of you. Your breath hitches in your throat, caught between the fear of moving too fast and the undeniable pull you have always felt towards him.

You bring a hand up to his cheek, your fingers gliding over his skin, feeling the warmth radiating from him. You linger for a moment before wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you.

“Y/n,” he whispers, “sweetheart,” his gaze drops to your lips, and you swear you can hear your hearts beating in time with one another in the quiet.

You take a deep breath, searching his gaze for the same spark of desire you feel coursing through your body. He inches closer, breath mingling with yours, heating the space between you.

“Is this okay?” he asks softly, his voice trembling slightly.

You nod, breathless, as you lean in just enough to finally close the distance between the two of you.

The tip of his nose brushes against yours, the contact making your head spin. You’ve thought about this moment countless times, and being here feels so right.

“Yunho,” you breathe, “please kiss me alr—“

His mouth molds to yours before you can finish your sentence, pulling all the remaining air from your lungs. The world around you explodes in a flash of warmth and tenderness, all the hurt you had been feeling melting away into a puddle at your feet.

You feel a rush of emotions— relief, joy, and a deep, intoxicating desire— as he deepens the kiss. Your hands tighten around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as he sweeps his tongue across your bottom lip. You lose yourself in the sensation, the taste of him and the feeling of his lips on yours erasing everything else you’ve ever felt.

His fingers tangle in your hair, holding you as if you might disappear. This moment, this kiss, feels like a declaration— a culmination of all the unspoken words, the hidden glances, the years of longing between the two of you. It’s exhilarating.

He finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours, your heavy breaths the only sounds on the quiet street. Your hands slide from his neck, traveling down his chest before settling on his waist.

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to cut you off,” he chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “I’ve just been waiting a really long time to do that.” He drops a gentle kiss to your forehead before wrapping his arms around you to pull you close.

“You can cut me off anytime if it means I get to kiss you,” you nuzzle into his chest. The steady thud of his heartbeat slows yours to match.

“Oh yeah?” He looks down at you, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Yes, abso—“

His lips connect to yours again, a fire igniting in your belly when his tongue tangles with yours. He tastes like caramel, the sweetness of his latte lingering on his tongue. Wide hands wrap around your hips, dragging you closer, rolling your body into him.

You snake your hands up his lower back, digging your nails into his skin through his shirt. A low groan rumbles deep in Yunho’s throat at the sensation, sending a bolt of heat straight to your core. A whimper crawls up your throat before you can stop it, and Yunho smiles against your mouth. He draws your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently.

“Your lips are even softer than I imagined they’d be,” he gives you one more lingering kiss before pulling back. His deep eyes find yours, his blushed cheeks glowing under the streetlights.

“You’ve imagined kissing me?” Shyness creeps in at the realization that Yunho thought about you in the same way you thought about him.

“Among other things, yes,” he brushes your hair out of your face, his palm settling to cup your cheek. “You’re cute when you blush.”

“I am not blushing!” You hide your face in your hands. “Maybe I am, but how can I not when you talk to me like that,” you muffle into your palms.

“I’ll talk to you any way you want if it means you’ll react like this,” he teases, gently pulling your hands from your face to hold them in his. “Your hands are freezing, sweetheart,” he brings your hands to his mouth, holding them between his and blowing his hot breath onto them to warm them up.

”Well we have been out here a while,” you shiver at the feeling of his breath on your skin.

“Am I still allowed to take you home tonight, or would that complicate things?” He’s either nervous, or hesitant. Either would make sense, you just got dumped and 24 hours later you’re confessing your feelings for your best friend (and kissing him). Anyone with a brain might wonder if you’re rushing, or worse, rebounding. Once you get out of this cold, you can talk things through.

“Yes, please, let’s go.” You take his hand in yours, kissing his knuckles before pulling him in the direction of his place.

“You got it, baby.” He slings an arm over your shoulder, planting a kiss to the top of your head. Your heart flutters as you walk toward his apartment.

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As soon as you walk through Yunho’s front door, he breezes past you to grab two wine glasses and a bottle of your favorite rosé while you kick off your boots. As you shed your jacket, he sets two full glasses on his simple wooden coffee table, heading back to his kitchen to grab a bag of chips and some chocolates. He returns with his hands full, confusion lacing his features when he finds you standing in the middle of his living room stifling a laugh.

“Is something funny?” He chuckles at your reddening cheeks as you let out a giggle.

“When did you get so nervous to have me in your apartment?” Part of you feels bad for teasing, but he looks so cute when he’s flustered, you can’t help it. “I’ve never seen you move so fast to get me a glass of wine.”

“Well, when you decide to tell me you want me in the middle of the street, that tends to change things, baby,” he grins at you, clocking you for the second time now having a physical reaction to his newest pet name for you. You thought sweetheart sounded beautiful coming out of his mouth, but baby is a whole new level of intoxicating.

”You said it first, but I guess that does change things, huh, baby?” You cross your arms, challenging him. “Do I make you nervous, Jeong Yunho?”

“You make me a lot of things, sweetheart, but nervous isn’t one of them.” He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, the gesture making your head spin. After setting your snacks down on the coffee table, he finally takes off his jacket and kicks off his shoes. He plops down on his couch, patting the empty cushion next to him. “Come sit with me,” the deep, inviting tone of his voice has you moving to him immediately. Grabbing your wine, you sit next to him, folding one leg up onto the couch to turn to face him. He copies your position, his knee resting just an inch from yours.

“What do I make you feel, then?” You swirl your wine in your glass as your gaze flicks over his handsome features. Landing on his eyes, your heart jumps at the way they shine for you.

“Fulfilled,” he starts, scooting closer to you so your knees are just barely touching. “Cared for, understood,” the corner of his mouth quirks up slightly, “and loved.”

A bloom of warmth floods your chest at the word. This is what you’ve been missing the last few years. You thought your ex would give you this sense of gratification if you gave him more time, but what you were searching for was in your best friend. You always knew in the back of your mind that it was him. The one who held you when you cried, who made you laugh until your stomach hurt, who would drop everything to be there when you needed him. You take a big sip of your wine.

“I was settling,” the words fall off your lips before you can stop them, the alcohol warming your cheeks right away. “I thought that if I kept giving him everything he would eventually give me half of what I was craving, but in the back of my mind I think I knew he’d never be what I really needed… I settled for him.”

Yunho offers a soft nod, zero judgment, only understanding. “And what is it you were craving?” He moves even closer to you, your shins now pressed together.

“You,” you sigh, his deep eyes boring into yours, waiting for more. You tap your fingers on your wine glass, contemplating your next words. “The connection, the comfort, the joy, the love that you gave me,” your throat tightens thinking about the nights you spent longing for your best friend. “I wanted you, how you made me feel…but I settled for him.”

“Right person, wrong time,” Yunho scoffs, a gentle shake of his head, “kind of applies to us, right? We’ve wanted each other for years now, but we just never had the chance.”

“I should’ve told you sooner, Yun,” your hand rests on his, his fingers immediately lacing between yours. “We’ve wasted so much time,” hot tears blur your vision, but you blink them away before they fall.

“Hey, we have all the time in the world, baby,” he brings your hand to his mouth, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “All the time in the world,” he muffles against your skin. You turn your palm to hold his cheek, and you notice his eyes roll back before they flutter closed.

“All the time in the world,” you repeat, threading your fingers into his hair. A future with Yunho flashes through your mind. Lazy Sunday mornings, celebrating milestones and holidays together, late nights tangled in the sheets, his body taking over yours —

“Y/n…” His deep, smooth voice brings you back to the moment, the sound of your name on his lips heating your cheeks.

“Hm?”

He gently takes your wine glass from your hand, setting it on the coffee table next to his untouched one. When his eyes find yours again, warmth pools in your belly at the darkness that’s taken over his features. “I really want to kiss you again, but I feel like we should talk first,” he takes both your hands in his, and your heart pounds a beat faster in your chest. “If you spend the night tonight, there’s no going back. Once I have you, I don’t think I can let you go.”

“I don’t want you to let me go, Yun,” you squeeze his hands in yours. “I’ve waited too long to get here, I don’t wanna go back… You already have me, don’t let me go.” The thudding in your rib cage intensifies with every second of heated silence.

“I couldn’t if I tried,” he finally says, pulling you in, crashing his lips into yours. His hands find your waist, his tongue exploring your mouth, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you into his lap. You straddle him, resting your knees on either side of his hips, deepening the kiss as his hands wander to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him. You roll your hips against him, his grip tightening on you as he drags your body over him. A groan rumbles in his chest and you feel his cock stiffening beneath you, grinding on him slower and harder.

“I can’t believe you’re finally mine,” Yuhho’s hand snakes up your back and into your hair, gently removing your clip and tossing it to the floor before gripping your locks and tilting your head to the side, exposing the sensitive column of your neck to his mouth. He nips at your skin, licking the spot with his tongue, moving up to the tender spot under your ear. “My beautiful girl,” his hot breath in your ear has your entire body blooming with goosebumps.

”Yunho,” you roll your hips over him again as his lips travel down your neck to your collarbone, a whimper crawling up your throat at your rough jeans catching on your swelling clit. He feels harder and harder underneath you with each rock against him, and you’re cursing yourself for wearing such thick pants. You just want to feel him.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He tightens his grip on your hair, kissing back up your neck until his lips connect with yours again. You moan into his mouth as his other hand guides your hips back and forth, shamelessly grinding your bodies against each other like horny teenagers.

“Touch me please,” you beg, catching his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it gently.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” he teases. He snakes an arm around your waist and smoothly rolls you onto your back, laying you down in the soft cushions. He kneels, settling between your legs, spreading them wide to roll his hips into your needy clothed core. His mouth finds yours again, tangling his tongue with yours.

The hand in your hair loosens, trailing down your body, ghosting over your breasts, down your belly, and lifting your sweater slightly to get to your jeans. He makes light work of the button and zipper, his nimble fingers undoing the fastenings with ease, all while keeping his mouth on yours. You feel him tapping on your ass, signaling you to lift your hips. When you do, he shimmies your jeans down your legs agonizingly slowly, breaking the kiss to admire the bits of your skin he’s dreamt about for years.

He tosses your jeans on his living room floor, and a timidity slithers up at the realization that you’re in your underwear on your best friend’s couch. His broad hands rest on your thighs, letting you close them slightly, your shared shuddering breaths the only sound in his quiet apartment.

“Getting shy on me, sweetheart?” He teases you, reading your mind. He knows you so well. You giggle as he slides his hands to your sweater, dragging it up your body, exposing your panties, shifting it higher and higher until the bottom hem of your bra is barely showing. He slides his hands under your top, expertly cradling your bra-clad breasts in his hands, letting out a restrained groan. The energy shifts and you whimper, watching his eyes locked on the way his fingers swim beneath the fabric of your sweater. You let your legs fall open slightly as Yunho slots himself between them, peppering your belly with gentle kisses and thumbing one of your pebbling nipples through the thin material of your bra.

“Yun…” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair as he kisses you lower and lower, “please,”

“Mhm,” he nods against your soft skin, shifting down to lay on his belly between your legs, hooking your knees over his shoulders. You feel his searing breath over your pussy, cooling the growing wet patch in your panties, making you clench around nothing. He picks up on your reaction, gripping your hips before blowing a steady stream of air over your sensitive heat.

“Oh,” you breathe, wriggling under his strong grasp, spreading your legs wider for him.

“You’re so reactive,” he murmurs, biting down on your inner thigh, soothing the spot with his tongue. You yelp at the sensation, covering your mouth in shock of the sound that just came out of you. Yunho chuckles darkly, “don’t hold back, baby, I wanna hear all the noises you make.”

He hooks an arm over your hip so his hand rests on your mound. He grips your panties in his fist, pulling them up until the fabric slips between your wet folds, gliding firmly over your clit. You stifle a sob as he tugs them harder, biting you once more.

“I thought I told you not to hold back, sweetheart,” he licks your skin again, soothing the angry bite mark that will surely be bruised by morning. Another tug of your panties has you mewling, one hand gripping his hair for dear life, the other blindly searching for anything to ground you.

“Yunnie, please, stop teasing me,” you never thought your sweet and wholesome best friend could have you whimpering and begging beneath him, hardly having touched you. He has such a dark, dominating presence about him in this moment, and it’s making your head fuzzy.

He lets go of your panties, swiftly pulling them to the side, exposing your wet heat to the cool air. You suck in a sharp inhale, finally bare to him.

“Fuck,” he moans, “look at you, baby,” he runs two fingers through your heat, the sudden contact making you cry out. He spreads you wide to see every inch of you, taking his time. “So pretty,” he breathes.

“I need you, please,” you whine, “are you gonna make me keep begging?”

“Baby, I’ve wanted to touch you like this for years,” he drawls, “let me savor it a little.” Before you can protest, he teases your entrance with two fingers, slowly thrusting them deeper and deeper inside you, little by little, until his palm is flush with your cunt. Your head falls back into the cushions, your chest heaving. You had daydreamed about how his fingers would feel inside of you, but nothing compares to the real thing. He pumps in and out a few more times before he curls his fingers, hitting the spot that makes your back arch. You grip his hair, tugging on it harder than you mean to, but you can’t help it. You miss the way his eyes roll back, his mouth hanging open at the pain.

Yunho lets you guide his mouth to your core, his fingers keeping a steady pace as he uses his free hand to spread you open, swirling his tongue around your clit.

“Yunnie…” you whimper, grinding your hips on his mouth. He nods against you, sucking your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the swollen bud over and over in time with his fingers moving in and out of you. Pleasure blooms in your belly as he works you, each flick of his tongue bringing you closer to the edge.

“Feeling good, sweetheart?” He replaces his tongue with his thumb, circling your clit softly to ease you into the sensation. You push yourself down into his hand, needing more. He chuckles, applying more pressure until he feels you melting under him.

“Yes, so good Yun, fuck,” the pressure low in your belly builds rapidly, and you know if he keeps going at this pace, you’ll fall apart in no time. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, and once your eyes lock with his you know you’re a goner.

His hair is mussed from your tugging on it, his cheeks flushed, his mouth glistening, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple as he picks up the pace ever so slightly. He smirks at you, letting your legs fall from his shoulders so he can kneel between them again, sitting back to get a good look at you, never slowing his ministrations. You make the mistake of glancing down, your mouth drying at the sight of his cock pressing against the confines of his jeans. He hits that spot deep inside you again, and you fall back into the cushions, breathy curses falling from your mouth over and over.

“You look so beautiful like this, fucking hell,” he drops his free hand next to your head, caging you in beneath him, watching his fingers pistoning in and out of you faster and faster, circling your clit in a matching pace. “Mine, mine, mine,” he repeats over and over, like he can’t believe this is finally happening. He brings his lips to yours, mumbling the words against your mouth as you nod wordlessly in agreement, the taste of yourself on his tongue making you dizzy. He kisses you down to your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin, praise after praise whispered into your ear.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he emphasizes his words with a sharp thrust of his fingers, and you cry out at the sensation.

“I’m yours, I’m yours— fuck!” You feel the cord in your belly tightening and tightening.

“Good fucking girl,” he whispers in your ear, nipping at your earlobe, “come around my fingers, baby,”

“Oh, oh,” you shudder underneath him, his words pushing you over the edge as your orgasm rips through your body, pleasure burning from the inside out. He kisses you hard, slowing his pace bit by bit to ease you through your climax, your body trembling in his hold. “Yunho,” you mumble into his mouth, “I’m yours,” you whisper.

“You sure are,” he peppers your cheeks with soft, tender kisses, your brain slowly coming back online as he slows his fingers, coming to a stop. “And I’m yours,” he kisses you gently, easing his fingers out of you, slipping your panties back into place. He lays down on the couch next to you, pulling your favorite throw blanket over your exposed bottom half, tracing hearts and stars on your skin while your breathing steadies, running his fingers through your hair as you let your eyes flutter closed. You snuggle into him, the warmth of his body keeping the flame in your core burning.

“You are incredible, Jeong Yunho,” you giggle as he kisses every inch of your face, his soft lips mapping the details of your skin. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“Why, because I made you come in 5 minutes flat?” His low drawl has desire coursing through your veins, part of you feeling embarrassed he can turn you on so easily with just his words.

Your breath hitches as you nod, trying to keep your cool, but he knows you better than that by now. “You really like when I talk to you like this, don’t you, baby?”

“Apparently I do,” you turn to look at him, a teasing glint in his eyes, his fingers dancing across the bare skin of your belly. “I’d love to hear what else you have to say,” you tease.

“Well for starters, I want to take you to bed” His mouth hovers over the shell of your ear, the combination of his hot breath fanning over your skin and the vibrations of his deep voice have lust taking over your thoughts once again. “I want to fuck you properly, and we just don’t exactly have the space for that here,” you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh,” you giggle, his straightforwardness taking you by surprise. Just like that you’re throbbing for him again, your mind racing thinking about where your night with him is going to go. “I’d like that.”

Before he can catch you, you jump up from the couch, leaving your throw blanket behind, beelining for the hallway toward Yunho’s bedroom, giggling the whole way.

“Hey!” He laughs, clamoring up to chase after you. A few long strides and he’s caught up to you, right in the doorway of his bedroom. He hooks an arm around your waist and you yelp as he spins you around to face him, the momentum of both your running carrying you to the foot of his bed. The backs of your knees hit the mattress, but he holds you upright, pressing your body against his. Your eyes lock, both of you breathing heavily.

“Someone’s excited,” Yunho chuckles, giving you a firm kiss before pushing you back onto his bed. You let out a breathless laugh as you plop down on the mattress, pushing yourself to sit upright.

“A little,” your hands find his torso, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He smirks down at you as you run your hands under his shirt and up his stomach to chest. He lets out a shaky breath at the feeling of your hands on him, and pulls his shirt off over his head, discarding it on the floor. You’d seen him without a shirt a handful of times, but this close he looks ethereal. Your fingers dance across his bare skin, reveling in the feeling of being able to touch him like this. You want to see more of him, touch more of him, taste more of him.

“Yun,” you start, hesitant to take the lead. You slide your hands down his body until your fingers feel the smooth leather of his belt. Your eyes meet his, not breaking contact while you smoothly undo his belt buckle. “Can I?” You whisper.

“You can do whatever you want to me, y/n,” he breathes, looking down to where your fingers are undoing the button of his jeans, sliding the zipper down slowly. You pull his jeans down, and he kicks them to the side, standing before you in only his boxers, his hard length pressing against the confines of the fabric.

His fingers lace through your hair, gripping it gently to tip your head back. Keeping your eyes on him, you slowly pull your sweater over your head, letting him let go of your hair to take it from your hands and toss it to the floor. You reach behind you, undoing the clasp of your bra, slowly sliding it from your body and dropping it next to your discarded sweater. Yunho’s chest heaves as he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, drinking this image of you in, dragging his gaze across your exposed chest.

“So beautiful,” his voice has dropped even lower, a tone you’ve never heard from him, the deep timbre stoking the fire deep inside you. “You are so beautiful,” he cups your face in his hands, bending over to kiss you softly. He parts your lips with his tongue as you rest your hands on his abdomen, sliding one down to palm his cock over his boxers.

“Fuck,” he groans into your mouth, your fingers wrapping around him as much as you can through the fabric, stroking his impressive length as he licks deeper into your mouth. You pump him from base to tip, running your thumb over the wet patch at the head of his cock, drawing another guttural moan from his lips. Your mouth is watering at the feeling of him, but it’s not enough.

You dip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, and Yunho breaks the kiss to watch you pull them slowly down, down, down, until his cock springs free, hanging heavy in front of you. You absentmindedly lick your lips at the sight of him, feeling the wetness in your panties growing. Lust prickles across your skin thinking about feeling him inside of you.

“Yunho,” you sigh, wrapping your fingers around him, pumping him slowly as he stands up straight, tugging your hair in his fist to tip your head back again. “I want you to fuck my throat,” you whine, “please,”

“Oh, baby,” he grips your hair tighter at your words while you stroke him, the sting making your cheeks warm, “you want me to stuff your pretty little mouth? Wanna wrap those beautiful lips around me?” Towering over you like this, you start to realize just how much he could overpower you, and the thought spreads heat through your abdomen.

“Please,” you nod, “I wanna taste you,” you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for him, keeping your eyes on his. You pump his length twice more as you guide his hips toward your mouth, dropping your hands into your lap as his tip rests on your tongue.

“Mmh, so pretty,” he whispers, wrapping his fist around his cock, tapping his tip on your tongue before sliding past your lips. “If it gets to be too much, just tap my thigh, okay sweetheart?”

You nod, wrapping your lips around him, sliding your tongue over the sensitive underside of his tip. His head falls back, a beautiful moan falling from his lips as you slowly start to bob your head. You take more of him, inch by inch until his cock taps the back of your throat. You swallow around him, and he absentmindedly thrusts deeper, chasing the sensation.

“Fuck,” he groans, his grip on your hair tightening again as he holds you there. “I’m gonna move now, is that okay?” He brings his free hand to your cheek, caressing it gently as you nod in confirmation. As soon as you give him the signal, he pulls back slightly, rocking his hips slowly, savoring the feeling of your lips wrapped around him and your tongue gliding over him. “So beautiful with your mouth stuffed so full,” he praises you, thrusting deeper into your mouth, down your throat, testing the limits of what you can take. He finds a steady rhythm, and you match his pace, bobbing your head and licking over every inch of him as he pumps in and out of your mouth, the stretch burning your throat deliciously.

You can’t take your eyes off of him, tears blurring your vision as you admire his lustful features. His furrowed brow, his blown pupils, his flushed cheeks. The bead of sweat dripping down the tip of his nose, the tensing muscles in his stomach as he pumps into your mouth… he looks so beautiful. You find yourself rocking your hips, grinding into the mattress, looking for any friction you can get.

He thrusts deep into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat again, and he holds you down on him, your nose brushing over his abdomen. The lack of air makes your head spin, and you want him even deeper. You reach up to grab his hips, but your hand bumps his thigh on the way up, which he takes as your signal that it’s too much.

“Shit,” he pulls out of your mouth, and you gasp for air as he drops to his knees in front of you. “Are you okay, baby? I’m so sorry, was that too rough?” His eyes are full of panic and he brushes your hair out of your face, wiping the saliva that had bubbled up at the corners of your mouth. It all happens so fast, it takes you a moment to process the man waiting in front of you, waiting for a response. Before you can stop yourself, a smile breaks across your face and a giggle rises up your throat.

“Yunnie,” you laugh, cradling his concerned face in your hands, “I’m fine, more than fine,” you try to catch your breath. “I was trying to…grab your hips to pull you closer, but I … bumped your leg by mistake,” his panicked face relaxes, a beautiful smile taking its place, and he lets out a deep sigh of relief. “I do appreciate how quickly you stopped though,” you tease him, your breathing finally steady, “it’s nice to know my boundaries will be taken very seriously.”

“You scared me!” He laughs, dropping his head in your lap.

“It was an accident!” You laugh with him, brushing through his hair with your fingers. “I actually wanted you to be more rough with me,”

He straightens up. “Is that so?” He plants his hands on the mattress on either side of your hips, the darkness returning to his gaze as he stands again, leaning over you. You lean back onto your elbows as he towers over you, his eyes raking over every inch of your body.

“It is,” you whisper, suddenly feeling so small beneath him, all lightheartedness suddenly sucked out of the room. “I would enjoy that very much,”

“Mmh,” he hooks an arm under your waist, lifting you easily and moving your body further up the mattress. You let out a small yelp as he drops you, heart warming as he reaches above you to grab a pillow to prop under your head. Once he’s sure you’re comfortable, he hooks his fingers on your panties, and you lift your hips for him to peel them off of you. He tosses them to the floor, turning his attention back to you, spreading your legs wide open, kneeling between them.

“I would enjoy that too, however,” he runs his hands up your calves, your thighs, until he reaches your center, using both hands to spread you wide open. You watch in awe as he runs two fingers through your arousal, teasingly dipping them inside of you. “I want to savor every moment of this,” he dips down to kiss you softly as he drives his fingers even deeper, prodding that tender spot inside of you, drawing a whine from your lips. “Let me be gentle this time, let me show you how much I–” he pauses, something indiscernible flashing through his eyes. “Let me show you how much I’ve been wanting you,” he recovers. “Then next time,” his thumb flicks over your clit, “I will do whatever you want me to do to you,” he circles the sensitive bud, your mind reeling. “Does that sound good, baby?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “so good,” you whimper as he scissors his fingers inside of you, surely trying to stretch you open for what’s to come.

He reaches for the drawer in his nightstand with his free hand, but you stop him. “You don’t have to wear one,” you interrupt.

“Are you sure?” His fingers keep moving inside of you, stretching you wider with each thrust, but still giving your conversation his attention.

“I’m on the pill and was tested recently, so yes, please Yunnie, I want to feel you,” you mewl, “please let me feel you,”

“So good for me,” he praises you over and over, “are you ready?”

“Yes, please,” you whine when he pulls his fingers from your cunt, desperate for him. He lifts your hips, pulling you closer to him, nestling himself between your legs, being sure to adjust your pillow once more. He spreads you open with one hand, tapping the tip of his solid cock on your swollen clit before rubbing it up and down your slit, lining up with your entrance. You both freeze at the same time as the reality of what’s about to happen finally hits you.

The feeling of this moment is nothing you’ve experienced before. For years, you’ve longed for Yunho, wanting the intimacy of your friendship to go beyond just emotional intimacy. You’ve yearned for him as long as you’ve known him. You wanted him– all of him. Finally, the universe decided it’s time for you two to experience that.

You realize he’s feeling it too, his hand finding your cheek in the silence, brushing away a tear that you didn’t realize had fallen down your cheek. “I know, baby,” he whispers, and that’s all you need to hear.

He presses his lips to your forehead as he slowly pushes inside, easing you into the sensation, gently stretching you out on his cock. You feel grateful that he prepped you with his fingers, the sting you feel only lasting a few brief moments before he’s smoothly gliding into you. He pushes in deeper and deeper, until you’re filled to the brim. He drops his hands to the mattress on either side of your head as he bottoms out. Almost in unison, you both let out a shuddering exhale.

“You feel incredible, fuck” he breathes against your forehead, finally pulling back to look into your eyes, your bodies finally connected physically in the way they’ve felt connected spiritually all these years. “And you look so pretty, my angel,” he whispers, his eyes shining.

“I don’t know how you can still manage to make me blush when you’re literally inside of me,” you pant, shyly giggling as your cheeks warm under his loving gaze. He hisses at the way you squeeze around him when you laugh. “Sorry,” you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your giggles.

“I’m learning so much about you today,” he pulls hips back slightly before burying himself inside you again, all teasing coming to an instant halt as the tip of his cock presses against your g-spot.

“Oh my–” your back arches at the feeling, “God Yunnie, I feel so f-full.”

“You’re doing so well baby,” he praises you again, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. “Look at you, so beautiful taking my cock.”

“I need you to fuck me,” you scramble to grip his forearms, feeling the taut muscles under his skin. “Please,” you wriggle your hips beneath him, “move,”

“Mm,” he pulls out almost completely, just the tip of his cock resting inside of you, “say it again, sweetheart,”

“Fuck me Yunnie, please,” you beg, trying to push your hips down on his cock.

“God, I’ve waited so long to hear you say that, I’ll never get tired of it” he slams into you, and you cry out as he bottoms out inside of you again. He sets a steady pace, rolling his hips into you over and over, the feeling of him pumping in and out of you more delicious than you could’ve ever imagined. He kisses you hard, licking into your mouth, swallowing all of your pretty little moans.

He cups one of your breasts in his wide palm, running his thumb over your nipple, stoking the fire in the pit of your belly. He straightens, admiring how beautiful you look while you take him. Your lips red and puffy, your eyes half lidded, your breasts bouncing with each thrust.

“So pretty, taking me so well,” he praises you as his hand coasts up your chest, fingers gently wrapping around your neck. He holds his hand there for a moment, making a mental note of the way your eyes light up when he briefly squeezes the column of your throat.

“F-feels so g-good,” you choke out between thrusts. His thumb slides along your jaw toward your chin, prodding at your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open. You wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking on it briefly before he pops it out of your mouth, trailing it down your body until he reaches your clit. The contact has your head spinning, the cord in your center tightening and tightening as he flicks your sensitive bud.

“Baby, look,” his voice cuts through the foggy lust in your head, grabbing your attention. He nods down to where your bodies are connected, gesturing for you to take a glance.

One look at him splitting you open has your climax threatening to wash over you, warmth running up and down your spine at the sight of your arousal shining on his cock as he pistons in and out of your heat relentlessly. He swirls his thumb around your clit faster at the feeling of you squeezing around him.

“You close, sweetheart?” He’s breathless as he fucks you, hitting so deep inside you that you can feel it in your stomach.

“Mhm, fuck, yes,” you cry out, scrambling for his free hand, lacing your fingers between his.

“Come on, I want to watch you fall apart around my cock.” He’s fucking you impossibly hard, each thrust hitting just right, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. “Let me feel you, love,”

“Oh my god,” you stammer out a string of curses as your second orgasm washes over you, your heart thudding in your ears as your body tenses underneath him. He barely slows his pace, keeping his thumb resting on your clit, fucking you through your high.

“There she is,” he coos, slowing little by little until your body starts to relax. He thrusts all the way inside, bottoming out, collapsing over you.

“Wow,” you laugh, bringing your hands up to cradle his flushed face. “That was,”

“Incredible?” He finishes your sentence, kissing your sweaty forehead over and over. You let out a soft moan in agreement, and his cock jumps inside of you at the sound.

“Mmh,” you whimper, the warmth creeping back into your belly, and you squeeze around Yunho’s cock.

“Wanting more already?” He teases, pushing his hips against you, thrusting himself in even deeper.

“Absolutely,” you squeeze around him again, craning your neck up to capture his lips with yours. “Fuck me however you want, baby,” you whisper against his mouth. His cock twitches inside you again and you giggle, waiting for his next move.

“Flip over,” he pants, “I wanna fuck you like this,” he slips out of you and you whine, feeling empty. He helps you roll onto your belly, kneeling behind you as he pulls your ass in the air and plants a hand in the middle of your back, guiding you to arch for him. You squish your cheek into the mattress, trying to look back at him. “Fucking hell,” he palms your ass with both hands, admiring your delectable form, “you are unreal.”

“Yun, please, I need you,” you whine as he bends over your body, planting hot, wet kisses up your spine until he reaches the nape of your neck, bringing his lips to your ear. You feel his cock bump against your backside, his body flush against yours.

“You are insatiable, my love,” your heart flutters at the word, but your lust pushes any overanalyzing to the back of your mind in favor of how desperate you are for him.

You push back into him, feeling the tip of his cock bump against your heat. He straightens at the feeling, rubbing circles into your hips with his thumbs as he watches you move. You roll your hips, catching the tip of his cock between your folds, wiggling and rocking to find the right angle before it finally slips inside.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers as you push back, taking him deeper and deeper until your ass is flush against him. You start bouncing your hips, taking him in and out, slowly at first, the sounds of his moans filling your ears and soaking your center.

“Feel good, baby?” You muffle from beneath him, moving your hips quicker with each bounce on his cock. You open your legs a little wider, the new angle rocking his cock against your g-spot.

“The best thing I’ve ever felt,” he rolls his hips to meet yours, the sound of skin slapping filling the air of his bedroom. “I can’t believe how long we’ve waited for this,” he grips your hips, meeting your thrusts in earnest, fucking into you impossibly deep. You match each other’s pace immediately, moans and whines filling the air.

He threads his fingers through your hair, tugging you upwards until your body is flush against his, your sweat-slicked bodies rocking together. His hand drops from your hair to wrap around your neck, holding you firmly in place as he threads his other hand between your legs, his middle and ring finger easily finding your swollen clit.

“I want you like this forever,” he whispers in your ear as he drives into you, your motivation to bounce on him melting into the mattress beneath you. You want him to take you however he wants you, your body molding into his grip.

“Forever,” you nod as he kisses your neck, “you have me forever Yunnie,”

“Again,” he groans as you tighten around him, his fingers swirling around your clit, your third orgasm of the night building rapidly low in your belly. “Say it again,”

“Forever,” you repeat, “I’m yours forever,”

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m so close,” he growls into your ear, “you take me so well, like you were made for me,”

“I was, Yun,” you assure him, “I was made for you,” he rubs your clit faster, “and you were made for me,”

“God, yes,” he kisses your shoulder, his pace faltering as he gets closer to the edge, “I love you, y/n, fuck.” His fingers swirl around your clit as his hips stutter, spilling hot and fast inside of you. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats over and over as he ruts into you.

“I love you, Yunho,” you cry out, your heart exploding as your orgasm follows, your body shuddering against him as you come together, your words and his swirling around you in the afterglow.

He holds you tight against him, guiding your spent form back down to the mattress, kissing every inch of your skin as you both come down from your highs. He slips out of you, lowering your hips, massaging your sore muscles before rolling onto his back next to you. You mimic his position, flipping over so you’re both staring at the ceiling, processing the words you both just confessed. You lay together in silence, the sounds of both of you trying to catch your breath filling the room. You let your eyes close, processing the moment.

“Jeong Yunho,” your voice is hoarse once you speak. “Tell me you love me.” Your eyes flutter open, turning your head to see him already beaming at you. He rolls onto his side, bringing himself nose to nose with you.

“I love you.” He declares, clear and confident, your heart swelling in your chest. His lips brush over yours, both of you smiling as he kisses you softly. “Your turn,” he whispers. You copy him, rolling onto your side, brushing his sweat slicked hair from his forehead as he throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“I love you,” you giggle, kissing him again.

“One more time?”

“I, love, you,” you emphasize each word with a gentle kiss on his lips,

“I will never get tired of hearing that,” he whispers. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”

You whine in protest, but Yunho eventually gets you into the bathroom, running a hot shower for the both of you. You wash up together, hardly able to keep your hands off of each other. Once you’ve fallen apart in his hands twice more and the water’s run cold, he helps you into a pair of his boxers and his biggest, softest sweatshirt.

“This feels like a dream,” you think out loud once you’re snuggled up in Yunho’s bed together. “Is this a dream?”

“If it is, I never want to wake up,” he smiles at you under the dim street lights flooding through his windows. “This is all I need, forever.”

You kiss him at that, soft and tender, his arms wrapping tighter around you, holding you close. You fall asleep shortly after, nose to nose, hearts full.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You wake to the morning sun shining through Yunho’s bedroom windows, the sweet smell of vanilla flooding your nose. Stretching your tired limbs, you roll over to find the other side of the bed empty. Panic floods your mind at the sight, your past making you assume the worst. Is he sleeping on the couch? You wonder. Does he regret what he said and now he’s avoiding me? Before you can reason with yourself, you jump out of bed and speed walk down the hallway, stopping dead in your tracks when you reach the kitchen.

“You’re not freaking out, are you y/n?” Yunho drawls, his voice still laced with sleep, low and raspy. He hasn’t even looked at you yet, his focus being on the plate on the counter in front of him, but he already knows where your mind is at just by the sound of your footsteps coming down the hallway. Of course he does. His bare, wide shoulders shake as he laughs to himself. His pajama pants hang low on his hips, the muscles in his back moving beneath his skin as he throws the final touches on what’s in front of him. He spins around to face you holding a plate of pancakes, littered with strawberries cut into hearts. Your heart flutters at the scene in front of you. “You think I’m gonna make love to you, tell you that I love you, and not make you breakfast in the morning?”

Suddenly feeling self conscious over your immediate assumption that he regretted your night together, you cross your arms, avoiding his gaze. “I got scared,” you whisper.

“That I left you in my apartment all alone? Baby,” he puts the plate down, “I would never, especially after last night,” he crosses the kitchen to reach you, pulling you into his warm embrace, his hot skin beneath you melting away the coldness you felt from waking up alone. “I’m not like…him,” he reminds you, brushing his fingers through your hair. “You are safe with me. Safe, loved, protected, respected, I could go on and on. Do you understand me?” He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

You nod against his chest. “I do,” you feel a tear slide down your cheek, spreading from your skin, onto his. He squeezes you in a tight hug.

“Come on, let’s get some food in your system. You haven’t eaten since our pastries at Blossom last night,” he releases you to grab your plate, as well as a second he made for himself, and drops another quick kiss to your forehead before carrying them to the coffee table in his living room.

“Come sit,” he beckons you, and you follow automatically, plopping on the couch. He grabs your favorite throw blanket before sitting down next to you, draping it over both of your laps. No matter how hard you try to ignore them, negative thoughts are still plaguing your mind. You both pick up your plates, eating in silence for a few moments before Yunho speaks up again.

“Y/n, what’s on your mind?” His tone is so sincere, you immediately feel guilty for making him worry.

“I’m just–” you hesitate for a moment. “I’m scared it’s too good to be true.”

“What is? Us?” Worry flickers across his features, his heart aching seeing you so distraught.

“Yeah,” you sigh, poking at one of your pancakes with your fork. You know you’re being unreasonable, and that Yunho has shown you nothing but love and commitment as long as you’ve known him. But your self doubt and your history of awful relationships is screaming at you that you don’t deserve him. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even realize that you’re crying.

Yunho gently takes your plate from your hands, putting both his and yours back on the coffee table. He shifts his body slowly until he’s kneeling on the floor in front of you, resting his hands on your blanket-covered thighs.

“Y/n, look at me,” he pleads. You wipe the tears from your cheeks, patting the dampness into the blanket in your lap. You rest your hands on top of his, tracing the lines of his veins for a moment before dragging your gaze upwards to meet his. His eyes are glazed over with tears of his own.

“Yunnie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I–”

“Listen to me,” he interrupts. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. The most precious thing in this world to me. Each moment that I spend with you fills me with a joy that I never experienced until I met you.” He turns his hands over to cradle yours as his tears finally fall down his cheeks. “I love you. And I will spend every day of the rest of my life proving that to you. And proving to you that you deserve the love that I give you.”

You stifle a sob at his words, trying to take all of it in as the beautiful truth. You know he means it, he’s always meant every word he’s ever said to you, and you know you need to silence your anxieties in favor of what you know to be true.

“It’s gonna take time,” you whisper. “It’ll take time for me to believe that I deserve what you give me,” you wipe your own tears, then his, both of you laughing breathlessly at your own emotions. “But I will get there,” you continue, “I just need you to be patient with me.”

“Of course. I will spend the rest of my life reminding you what you deserve, sweetheart. That’s a promise.”

“I love you.” You cradle his head in your hands, memorizing every inch of his face, savoring the first day of the rest of your lives.

“I love you,” he kisses the tip of your nose. “Let’s go finish our breakfast in bed.”

“Okay,” you giggle watching Yunho jump up to grab both your plates, giddily walking toward his bedroom with a wide smile on his face.

“You coming?” He glances over his shoulder at you, his ears blushing bright red as he waits for you.

You nod, hopping up to follow after him, to your new forever.

#ateez yunho #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #yunho x reader #ateez imagines #yunho #yunho smut

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takes1 · 22 days ago

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Hi. Could you do a Kuroo x reader? She’s Nekoma’s manager and she collapsed during practice and has to have emergency surgery? Kuroo has had a crush on her for a while and Kenma is tired of him dancing around it?

prayyyying you like this one. because this felt incredibly niche, but i know u a real one so that's why it got done. also: i've got some experience with dehydration, and found it an easier plot device, so i just went with that. i feel like i hit all the beats regardless?

warnings. injury/blood/hospitals, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / very angsty, then fluff / hurt-comfort fic / manager!reader / pining!kuroo / kuroo crushing on you / reader gets hurt trope / kuroo has to deal with big feelings / kenma is a great friend and wingman / nervous!kuroo / confession fic / flirty!kuroo but it's not the focus / 2.8k words

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. my imagines. requests open.

The heat was getting to you.

You were slower, quieter, and had to pause often to catch your breath after standing up.

After carrying a case of water across the gym, your vision was getting splotchy again, and you placed a heavy hand on the wall. It was a nice, quiet, empty corner of the crowded gymnasium.

Kuroo had been watching your heavy-footed shuffle to the door ever since you dropped it off to Nekoma's distracted, tired players.

You had been less vocal, less silly, the way he liked to talk to you.

He called to you, thanking you, but you didn't hear him.

Your breathing was horribly loud in your own ears. Real ragged and difficult to just inhale. Your heartbeat was pounding against the sides of your head, adding to your near-permanent headache. The grip on the wall slipped, thanks to your sweaty palm, and you doubled forward.

The room started to spin as you did so.

"(Y/n)!"

"Woah-woahwoah!!"

Kuroo didn't wait to just standby, to watch you collapse. He was already moving when you didn't answer him. He just had too much distance to cover before your limp body smacked the hardwood floor.

He was first to get you by a mile-- he rolled you over and flinched at the sight of blood from where your head hit the floor.

"Coach!! Hospital!!"

It started an echo, and a lot of quieter questions. Coach Naoi was sprinting over as Kuroo, scared but steady with adrenaline, pulled off his jersey to put pressure on the gash.

"Ice!" He swallowed the wobble in his throat, "I need some fucking ice- somebody get ice!"

The matches on the far side of the gym were not effected, but one closest had to be paused because of so much confusion.

About five guys, some from Nekoma, some from Karasuno, were ready with ice in 20 seconds. Your eyes were a little bit open, you were breathing, but were otherwise unresponsive. Not even a gasp at the cold.

There was only so much room in the car. The whole team wanted to come with, but only Coach Naoi, Kuroo, and Kenma were able to.

"Back up- Back up!" Kuroo barked at the growing crowd around you as he took you in his arms to carry you outside.

Coach Naoi had the car as close as he could get it; Kenma sat in the front seat, giving him directions, while Kuroo kept your head supported in the backseat, careful to keep pressure on you. Kenma passed him the extra ice bags he managed to stuff in his bag last-minute.

Having to sit in the waiting room was much worse than holding you.

At least, back at the training camp, or in the backseat of the car, he knew he could have an active role in getting you better, if he could see you, touch you.

Their trio sat in limbo, waiting for any news.

Naoi glanced down at the incessant tapping sound. His sigh was short and bothered.

"She'll be okay."

Kuroo made no indication that he heard him, nor that he cared. His heel kept thudding and his knuckles stayed white, gripped to the sides of his arms.

"Kuroo- I'm sure she'll be okay. I've seen worse. They'll get her up, they'll get her hydrated."

It was quiet, except for the sound. Kenma scrolled through the digital schedule they had all received of the training camp, trying to answer his own questions: How had it spiraled to this level? They didn't see you as often as each other, and somewhere along the line, they lost accountability of your health.

"'S'been 40 minutes," Kuroo immediately regretted saying anything, because now he felt nauseous.

Naoi cleared his throat.

"She's probably got rhabdo. When you get that dehydrated for that long, your veins are harder to stick an IV in. It's got something to do with that, I'm sure."

Their assistant coach seemed like he understood what was going on. Kuroo looked down at his own forearms, and for a moment, his foot stopped tapping. Naoi's face lightened with a longer, softer sigh.

His veins looked as plump as ever. He squeezed his cold, shaky fingers and watched how it changed the muscle under the skin.

The door opened and his head shot right up.

He was first to stand, first to go through the doors, trailing a little too close behind the aggravatingly slow nurse.

As they navigated the winding, twisting hallways, he was living in the past, wishing, he had said something about his feelings sooner.

He saw you every day. Multiple times a day. He could name 300 instances where he could have told you he liked you, and still didn't. He thought he would have all the time in the world to. But you were on the ground in seconds, and it was suddenly ripped away, an option he might never have again.

Why would he ever assume it was just something he'd always be able to? That you'd always be around?

They pulled up two chairs next to the hospital bed, sitting as close as possible without getting in the mess of wires on the floor. Some were connected to you, some not. Kuroo paid close mind to the IV in your arm, the clear bag hanging- he glanced to your vitals on the monitor many times.

You looked not great, but way, way better. He took what felt like his first breath in two hours. He prayed Kenma and Coach Naoi would never mention -better yet, forget- his intense, and ugly panic attack in the car.

You were looking at the needle in your arm, too. Sleepy, and slow.

"How are you feeling?" Kenma asked, just before he could.

There was no rush to his words. It was for the best. If Kuroo had asked, it would have sounded interrogative.

You smiled, a precious sight for him, "Uh... really gross."

They laughed, but it was more at the opportunity, in relief, that you were speaking and aware, again.

Coach Naoi's voice could be heard just outside. You turned your head to see him carrying a clipboard with some paperwork to fill out. He thanked the nurse at the doorway and entered, wagging his finger at you.

"You're a lot of trouble, you know that?"

Your frown wasn't the reaction he was after. He patted your ankle, good-natured, with his signature smile that made everyone feel a little better.

"I'm jokin', kid," He chuckled, taking the pen to scribble some information down.

"They'll have you out of here after you get through two of those. If you look good to go, that is."

'Those' must've been referring to the bags of fluid getting pumped into you.

"No stitches, either," He drawled, halfway distracted by his writing, with just a small glance to the tape and bandaging on your forehead, "That's good, that's goood,"

He furrowed his brows, squinting at the third, then fifth page. A silly moment of quiet.

"Alright, uhh, I'm gonna go finish this b.s. out there. Keep her awake, fellas."

"Will do."

"Thanks, Coach."

Your headache kept you feeling fuzzy. You assumed you hit your head at some point, thanks to the bandages and how Naoi alluded to it, but you still weren't sure how, or when.

Kenma filled the momentary quiet.

"So, what happened?"

Again, it felt like you were guessing, trying to piece odd fractions of an incomplete puzzle together. The last three days of the training camp were beyond busy on the admin side. You had your own training to keep up with. Things had gotten away from you.

It was a struggle to get your words out. You looked mostly at Kenma, because he looked like he actually wanted to know- Kuroo looked like he was waiting to interject.

"I guess-... um, I haven't eaten, in a while--"

Kuroo looked completely beside himself. His anger was out of place over his usually calm, collected features.

"Why-wh-what-?! Why not? Why would you not eat when you--?"

"Kuro," Kenma pushed on his forearm.

One look told him to back off- he was being way too loud, way too much, way too emotional. Your passive, ghostly voice was only scaring him more.

His nostrils flared. A big, shaky sigh- he had to stand up, pace around in a circle, and rub his neck.

The fear screwing up his brow, tightening his jaw, glossing over in his eyes, was brand new. You didn't know that he was capable of a volume, like that. It made you feel horribly guilty for what was an honest, albeit stupid, mistake.

Kenma watched him walk out, angrily wiping his eyes.

It was quiet again for a few minutes.

"He cares," Kenma lightened your dark spiral with just a couple of words.

All you felt was frustration. It hurt to speak, and more-so to think hard enough to explain yourself. His demands were out of your range of abilities at the moment, and he was somehow dissatisfied? After all the work you had been putting in for the team, you halfway felt like you didn't owe them anything at all.

"I wish he wouldn't sound so angry about it," You muttered.

A light shiver at the cool sensation pooling in your forearm, and you were meeting Kenma's downcast eyes again, with a feeling that you, somehow, said something wrong.

"He carried you out."

Shock hit you in big wave of nausea. You swallowed, dry. You didn't remember that at all, and could only speculate how scared everyone must've been.

What could you even say to that? This was all a big, stupid, accident that too many people were concerning themselves with. The guilt was so thick that you were wishing he would walk back in, so you could apologize.

A lighter, shakier tone this time, "I'll- make sure to tell him thanks."

Kenma looked like he had more to say, something on his mind, but only gave you a hesitant sigh to work with. His company was enough. Thanks to the IV and the medication, you were feeling better, so you tried to lay back, close your eyes, and enjoy it in silence.

He let you rest for 10 minutes, squeezing your shoulder every once in a while for a reaction, to make sure you were awake.

Kuroo was generally very sweet to you, and you thought you had a good rapport, but nothing tangible enough to get him this upset. You chalked it up to whatever happened while you were out of it.

When he returned, you were on your last bag of fluids. Kenma had his Switch with him, so you were watching him play, giggly, and in better spirits.

It must've been a cosmic-like trade, because he looked like a wreck duct-taped back together. You tried not to stare.

"Kuro, take my seat--,"

He threw him a look. Kenma explained as he stood up, "Dude I gotta pee, I'll be right back."

They linked arms. You couldn't hear what was said, but you did watch, as Kuroo leaned down to listen to Kenma, telling him something quietly, in his ear. You desperately hoped it wasn't about you, but knew deep down that it was wishful thinking.

In his friend's absence, he sat, unsure, of what to say, or what to do. His eyes were dry from his second, thankfully less intense, episode in the bathroom down the hall.

Part of him didn't realize the extent of how much he cared about you, until there was a reason to.

Kuroo tried to hand you the Switch. It was halfway an attempt at conversation, halfway an apology. It begged something to be done, or said, at least.

You shook your head and made your best effort to be kind about it, "No, thanks."

It was impossible to look him in the face, "I'm not as good as Kenma. Wouldn't be very fun."

He chuckled, but it sounded sad, and only existed on the basis of filling empty space.

Odd, unnatural, mutual silence. You glanced at each other. Neither able to address it or ignore it enough to talk about anything else.

He was biting the inside of his cheek, looking around the room, every exhale sounding like a soft sigh.

"Kenma told me that-," You cleared your throat, "Uh- you, carried me."

When he looked at you, it was filled with an attachment you had not been conscious for. You faltered under the sudden pressure, tired heart picking back up again.

"Thank you. I'm sure it was hard."

His brow furrowed as he, first, took you literally- after he realized you meant it as a concept, or maybe emotionally, he smirked. He tilted his head a little, like he always did before he teased you.

"Well, you know I work out, right?"

A genuine laugh left your lips. His goofy, disarming humor so ill-timed, but so desperately needed.

He smiled at you, soft, and comfortable again.

"You know what I mean," Was a familiar groan that he loved generating.

"Yeah- yeah, I know," He moved to place the Switch in the empty chair next to him, and was reminded that he only had a short time alone with you. His hand lingered in the space above it, just for a second, enough for him to make up his mind.

You jumped a little at the warmth and weight of his palm in yours.

"It was."

Kuroo didn't look you all-over like you did to him; you were trying to find the joke, or the punchline, in his body language, but he kept his sincerity incredibly clear and unwavering.

His thumb rubbed, light, against your skin.

You looked down at your joined hands, panicked, chills all over your body, "Kuroo-?"

"I know this isn't a great time, but I realized-- I-I shouldn't keep waiting around, for nothing, like I was. We could die tomorrow, so like- what's the point? You know?"

You adjusted to sit up straight, getting warmer, a little dizzy, at his words.

"I-h," He looked at you one last time, taking in the shock on your brow, the slack in your jaw, and knew he shouldn't stop talking, because he'd never be able to start it up again if he did.

"I really like you. I tried to wait for it to go away. Then, I just... didn't want it to."

This smooth-talking, silly, composed guy was falling apart, piece by piece. You didn't realize his super-nice demeanor had anything to do with a crush, but hindsight as it is, found your obliviousness a little embarrassing, now.

Your voice failed you, "You've had a cr-ush on me?"

He snorted at your voice crack, but looked no less infatuated. His other hand was pushing back some hair from your face.

"For a long time."

DING DING, DING DING, DING DING--

You yelped at how loud the alarm was, right next to your head, and how serious it sounded.

A very high, constant ring came from something electronic that you were hooked up to. The source was ambiguous and reason to be very concerned.

Kuroo had a better view of the screen. As you craned, shaky and weak, to see, he squeezed your hand.

His laugh helped to calm you down, "It's just your heart rate."

"One-fifty," He trailed, his pretty, proud grin audible, "Nice."

A nurse rushed in, followed immediately by your coach, then Kenma- you were quick to try and demonstrate that you were fine, but there were not many methods at your disposal, other than waving your free hand.

"I'm okay! I'm- I'm just nervous."

You shared a glance with Kuroo.

It was impossible to keep either of your laughs down once he started giggling.

The nurse could tell what was up immediately-- she muted the machine with a half-concealed smile, then left when she saw you still had some more to go with the IV.

Naoi was a little more clueless, but saw your hands, and made it his business to not know what was going on by taking his own leave. One tiny look told Kuroo everything as he turned- the good, old, 'keep it professional' look.

Kenma stayed, waiting with arms crossed, until it was just you three again, and spoke over your nonstop giggling.

"I told you so."

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu. (new) my imagines. requests open.

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moonydanny · 1 month ago

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Little fic idea I had... Maybe if you guys like it I can expand it a bit?

After Eddie drops the bomb that he’s leaving, Buck holds it together.

Honestly, he’s kinda proud of himself for that. He does help with the video call with the realtor. Helps Eddie pick a house. They have a beer after. And he holds it together.

When he goes to leave, he gets into his Jeep and starts to feel himself losing it. But he knows he has to hold it a bit longer. He’ll let go when he gets to the loft. Only he doesn’t drive to the loft. Without realizing it, he ends up in front of Tommy’s house. And he sees Tommy’s truck in the driveway, so he knows he’s home.

He sits there for a minute, two, trying to find the strength to drive away, but his resolve is crumbling, and he needs Tommy. So he walks to the door and knocks before he can change his mind.

Tommy opens the door, and the surprise is clear on his face. And god, how Buck has missed his face.

“Hey. What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

And that’s what does it, what breaks the dam. His eyes fill with tears, and through his blurry vision he sees Tommy’s expression morph into genuine worry.

“Eddie is leaving for Texas”, he says, voice barely above a whisper, the words only just going past the lump in his throat. Tommy’s eyebrows go up in disbelief and his eyes go all soft as he looks at Buck.

“I—Tommy.”

Next thing he knows, Tommy’s arms are around him, holding him tight as a sob finally tears from deep in his chest.

#I have a bunch of snippets of ideas that I always mean to write #but I never do and they're collecting dust #but I figured I'd post the snippets here at least #ngl i'm super rusty with my writing #so if you hate it please be kind when you tell me?#bucktommy #tevan #kinley #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 abc #bucktommy fic #bucktommy fanfic #my writing #snippets #911 fanfic #moony's 911 snippets #moony's bucktommy snippets

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bigbawdy-benzz · 2 years ago

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*Touches your shoulder* Hey~ what about 42! Miles morales x shy!reader

SUPER SHY

Pairing: Miles42! X Shy! Black Plus size Fem Reader

Summary : Y/N has been infatuated with miles for a hot minute but she's too shy to say anything and to make the first move. She would never think that he knows of her or even notices her until one small incident.

A/N: Miles is any age you want him to be in the fic, New jeans dropped super shy and it goes with this fic perfectly! THANK YOU FOR THE REQ As a recovering shy person you know I had to do my big one with this one ENJOY GUYS!!! Here’s Pt.2

It was a new day at Visions Academy; you blasted Tyler the Creator in your air pods while walking through the hallways. It was soothing to sound out all the noise. You walk into your first class ELA sitting down sighing wanting to go home. You put your head down wanting to get the school day over with. You suddenly hear noises over your headphones. You look to your left, and it was Miles and his friends being loud, you roll your eyes at his friends but keep your eyes on Miles, he looked so fine with his 2 braids you thought to yourself. You didn’t even realize you were staring, Miles looked feeling eyes on him making eye contact with you grinning. You felt your heart drop to your ass, thinking that he wouldn’t even notice you. To you, you thought Miles was kind of out of your league, he was kind of popular, all the girls wanted him, and he was sooooo incredibly fine. It's not that you don’t like yourself; it was just rare seeing him around girls like you that made you feel like getting his attention was impossible but, you always had his attention you just never noticed it. You decided to stop zoning out overthinking and started doing your work occupying yourself. You nod your head to WUSYUNAME by Tyler the Creator finishing your work just in time class was over. You see everyone else packing their things and you do the same leaving the classroom, you see your friends huddled by your locker.

“HEYYY Y/N” your friend Ocean yells out, you take one of your airpods out waving at her walking up to her and your other friend.

“Hey girlies” You said with a smile

“Girl how's it going with you know who?” Your other friend Aaliyah asks

“Horrible, well not really I was staring at him and he grinned at me so you can say it's over” You huff covering your face.

“I meannnn him grinning at you is amazing he noticed you babes” Ocean stated rubbing Y/N’s back

“Yeah it's better than him screwing his face up”. Aaliyah adds while you were putting your things in your locker.

“Yeah lets just get to math before Ms.Nelson gets on our ass and she gets mad yelling at us” You stated with a laugh closing your locker walking to class.

“Oh yeah she might call my mom again on her bullshit” Ocean huffs

“Nah we need to find her a good wig she’ll be nice to us for a good 2 weeks”. Aaliyah announces.

“No fr and set her ass up on a date she needs some dick” You chimed in laughing your ass off.

“YOO yall evil for this shit she needs more like locs she can’t keep that wig shit too high maintenance for her ''. Ocean replies, it was all laughs walking to class until you bump into someone

BOOM!

Your books and their books drop on the floor and you’re incredibly embarrassed scrambling to pick your things up, trying not to crease your Jordans.

“I'm so so sorry” You say picking up their books and yours.

“No it's ok…you don’t have to pick my books up after all I bumped into you” They say catching you off guard recognizing the voice. He bends down helping you pick up the books.

“No I bumped into you it's my fault i'm sorry” Y/N apologies once again

“Stop apologizing, it's okay mamita I just need to watch where I'm going next time”. They say helping you up, the way that ‘mamita’ rolled off their tongue had you weak in the knees.

“Im Miles” He says, giving you a smile, handing you your books.

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saythenametotheworld · 16 days ago

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Guilty As Sin | l.dh (18+)

A summer in Mykonos, a tumultuous romance, and a classmate who’s always been trouble—only this time, you’re too broken to care. What starts as an escape from the wreckage of your past relationship soon becomes a mess of its own. Was it worth it?

Campus Confessions masterlist

Genre: destination au, smut Pairing: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+), mentions of alcohol and drug use Notes: 24k words. Part four of the Campus Confessions series, but it can be read as a standalone fic. This took too long. Sorry. Song prompt was Guilty as Sin by Taylor Swift. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.

Playlist: Guilty as Sin by Taylor Swift, Tsunami by NIKI, Fresh Outta Slammer by Taylor Swift

I'm seeing visions am I bad? Or mad? Or wise?

In the sea of sweaty and intoxicated clubgoers, you moved to the music—loud, pulsing, and perfect for drowning out the thoughts you didn’t want to face. You weren’t sure how long you’d been here, but the sticky warmth of the crowd and the sharp burn of whatever you’d drunk earlier were enough to keep you from caring.

Someone came up behind you, his presence invasive before his hand even brushed your waist. “Hi, there. You alone?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the bass.

You ignored him, stepping away, but he followed, leaning in too close. “C’mon, don’t be like that. Just one dance.”

“I’m not interested,” you said sharply, turning to face him.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, but the grin on his face didn’t waver. “Alright, alright. No need to play hard to get.”

You moved farther into the crowd, hoping he’d lose interest, but it didn’t work. His hand wrapped around your wrist, and you stumbled as he pulled you back.

“Let go,” you snapped, yanking your arm, but his grip only tightened.

“Don’t be such a bitch,” he growled.

The slap came before you even thought about it and the sharp crack of your palm against his cheek cut through the music. His head snapped to the side, and when he turned back, his expression was dark.

Before he could do anything, someone grabbed his shoulder to stop him. “I think she said no.”

You didn’t need to look to know who it was—you’d recognize that voice anywhere. Donghyuck was grinning, his voice was light, but the pointed look on his face was unmistakable. The guy dropped your wrist, and you stumbled back as Donghyuck stepped between you.

“Come on, man. Let go of the lady,” Donghyuck said, his tone conversational but his gaze cold. “Unless you like being remembered as the creep who harasses women because he can’t take no for an answer?” he added, nodding toward the crowd.

The guy hesitated, his gaze darting to the growing attention of the crowd. He muttered something under his breath before walking away.

Donghyuck turned to you, his grin softening into something more playful. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you muttered, rubbing your wrist.

“No, but you needed it,” he said with a shrug. “You’re lucky I’m so chivalrous.”

You rolled your eyes. “I think you’re a much bigger creep than he is, Lee Donghyuck,” you mocked, but he simply shrugged, ignoring what you said.

“You’re a long way from your usual crowd, looking like that.” His eyes scanned you, just for a second, taking in the cling of your dress. “What’s the story? No friends? No boyfriend? No Jeno?”

The name hit like a slap of its own, but you didn’t flinch. “Stop asking. It’s none of your business.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You made it my business the second you walked into my line of sight.” His grin turned wicked, as if he enjoyed your irritation. He leaned even closer, his lips almost brushing your ear. “If I stopped asking questions, would you go home with me?”

You huffed a laugh, but it came out harsher than you intended. “Never in your wildest dreams.”

Donghyuck hummed, as if you hadn’t just shut him down. “Didn’t think you’d say yes anyway. But it doesn’t hurt to try, does it?” He pulled something from his pocket—a sleek, black hotel keycard—and slid it into your hand. “In case you change your mind.”

You stared at him, but he was already walking away, disappearing into the crowd like he hadn’t just said something so suggestive. Though, that didn’t do much to derail your night. You stuffed the card into your purse and threw yourself back into the music, letting the alcohol burn away the irritation.

Later, as you stepped out of the club, the cool night air sobering you slightly, your eyes caught Donghyuck by the sidewalk. He was leaning against a taxi, phone in hand, looking like he had all the time in the world.

He looked the same as he always did on campus—a plain black shirt with a small logo and matching black cargo pants, white sneakers, and his chestnut brown hair falling loosely across his forehead. The only thing missing was a jacket to complete his everyday look.

Now, why would someone wear their usual college fit in a club? You have no idea. But since it was Donghyuck, he needed not to worry about his clothes. His best suit had always been the air around him—charming, confident, and effortlessly magnetic. The kind of aura that made it impossible to ignore him, no matter how hard you tried.

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone—not even to yourself—but Donghyuck had a pull on you. And it was infuriating, like a loop of thread you couldn’t untangle, no matter how many times you swore you’d cut it.

“Lee Donghyuck,” you called, exasperation slipping into your voice. “Not you again.”

He looked up, his grin widening when he saw you. “Of course, it’s me again. I couldn’t leave without my keycard, could I? How else would I get into my room tonight?”

“You shouldn’t have left it with me in the first place,” you shot back, walking toward him.

“Maybe I wanted to see if you’d use it,” he quipped, eyes gleaming.

You held the card out, but instead of taking it, he grabbed your hand. “Last chance,” he said, half-smiling. “Sure you don’t wanna come with me? No strings, just one night for friendship’s sake? Or two, if you find me worthy enough. I know you would.”

“What friendship are you even talking about? We’re not friends.”

Donghyuck nodded thoughtfully. “You know what? I agree. Why should we be friends when we can be more than that?”

“Give it a rest, Hyuck,” you sighed, pulling your hand free. “It’s pathetic at this point.”

He didn’t seem fazed, flashing you a wink before sliding into his taxi. “Alright then, good night, princess.” As the cab pulled away, he blew you a kiss through the open window, and you could only shake your head in exasperation.

Then, you hailed your own cab, and told yourself the night was over, that you wouldn’t let him get to you. But as the city lights blurred past the window, his voice echoed in your mind. Then, as if to fan the fire, the taxi happened to pass by a posh hotel with a glowing sign that was impossible to ignore. It was the same hotel on Donghyuck’s keycard.

“Take me to that hotel,” you said before you could think twice.

It took three minutes to pull up to the entrance. Donghyuck was just stepping into the building when you got out of the cab.

“Lee Donghyuck!”

He paused, turning slowly as the porter held the door for him. The smirk on his face was triumphant—bright and infuriatingly charismatic, as if he knew all along that you’d change your mind and follow him in the end.

“There you are, love, ” he drawled, his voice smooth as silk.

The next day at home, you sat quietly at the dinner table, listening to your mom and sister talk about you, but not to you—a habit they unknowingly developed whenever you had your occasional quiet days where you’d rarely speak a word to anyone about anything.

Apparently, your sister is going on a business trip to Greece and wants to take you with her. And right now, she’s having a discussion with your mother who thought it was a bad idea.

“I’m not trying to hold her back from having a grand vacation, but—” Your mom’s voice softened as her gaze shifted to you. “Have you seen her these days? She’s not okay. Something is going on, and she wouldn’t even tell us.”

Her hand reached for yours on the table, her touch warm and familiar. “But it’s fine, sweetheart. You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.”

You flashed a sheepish smile just as your sister started her counter-argument. “Exactly, mom. That’s why this trip is good for her. It will help get her mind off of things. She can relax, have fun, and experience Mykonos. It’s a beautiful place. I have only seen pictures for now, but I already know a place like that is definitely gonna cure my depression.”

Your mom sighed, exasperation flickering across her face as she gave your sister a pointed look. “We do not make light of serious conditions,” she said sternly.

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry.” Your sister held her hands up in surrender before glancing at you. “But you get my point, right?”

You merely nodded, looking down at your food and poking it with the fork.

Your family had no idea what happened back in NCIT, just that you came home after the semester looking glum and stayed indoors all week. Then you stayed out yesterday and didn’t come home until noon today. Hence the subject of tonight’s dinner conversation.

“She didn’t leave the house all week, except for last night. Isn’t it possible she doesn’t want to go at all?” Her gaze lingered on you. “What do you think, sweetie? Say something.”

You looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time. Her worry was evident, but so was the hope that you might open up, even just a little.

“It’s alright, mom. I’ll go,” you said simply, glancing at your sister. “Yeah, I’d love to go.”

You put no real effort into packing. A few pajamas, some random dresses, some swimsuits for the beach—you figured it would be enough. But your sister, ever the perfectionist, had other ideas.

She poked her head into your room and took one look at the mess of your suitcase. “Are you serious? This is what you’re bringing to Greece?”

“What? It’s just a trip,” you muttered, flopping onto your bed and watching her roll her eyes like you’d committed a crime.

“A trip to Mykonos. You’re not going to a sleepover.” She marched to your closet and started rifling through it with the precision of someone on a mission. One by one, she pulled out pieces—skirts, blouses, sundresses, bikinis—and tossed them onto the bed.

“I’m fine with what I packed,” you tried, but she waved you off. “It has all the essentials.”

“Girl, I know you can do better than this, but I understand that you’re not as excited as your ‘fun’ self would’ve been, so just let me do this for you.” She paused, holding up a pair of bikinis. “This is definitely going in. You’ll thank me later.”

You let her do her thing, too lazy to argue. As she packed, she rattled off questions in her usual rapid-fire style. “Do you have your passport? What about your ID? Did you check your phone chargers? Oh, and don’t forget a power adapter. European outlets are different, you know.”

With a sigh, you got up and started gathering the essentials. “I’ll get them,” you said, trying to tune out her nagging as you went through your drawers.

A few days later, you stepped out of the airport and were greeted by a burst of sunlight and the crisp, salty breeze of Mykonos. The sky stretched endlessly above, with a vivid shade of blue that seemed too perfect to be real.

You had expectations for this trip—mostly vague ones of decent hotels and laid-back beach days. But the reality was something else entirely.

A sleek black sedan waited for you at the curb, the driver holding a sign with your sister’s name on it. You glanced at her, eyebrows raised in amazement. “Seriously?”

She grinned, tossing her carry-on into the trunk. “What? Did you think we’d be taking a bus?”

The ride to the hotel was smooth and scenic, winding past white buildings and crystal-clear waters. But nothing prepared you for the sheer opulence of the place where you’d be staying.

The car pulled up to a sprawling five-star hotel on a cliff, with its white walls blending seamlessly with the island’s iconic landscape. A porter took your bags as you followed your sister through the grand entrance, your footsteps echoing against the marble floors.

When you stepped into your suite, your jaw nearly dropped. The room was massive—far too big for just the two of you—with floor-to-ceiling windows that opened onto a private balcony overlooking the Sea. The sunlight poured in, highlighting every inch of the furniture and sleek decor.

“Okay,” you said, blinking at the view. “This… is not what I expected.”

Your sister laughed, flopping onto one of the oversized beds. “Yeah, the company’s pulling out all the stops. They want me to close a deal with some big-shot investor, so they’re making sure I’m comfortable. What do you think?”

“What do I think?” you echoed, still taking in the room with amazement. “I think this is ridiculous.”

She shrugged, a playful smirk playing on her lips. “Ridiculously awesome, you mean. Now, hurry up and change. We’ve got a whole island to explore.”

You wandered to the balcony, the sea breeze brushing against your skin. For the first time in weeks, there was a wave of relief in your heart. Your sister was right, this place is beautiful enough to cure depression.

First night in Mykonos, your sister took you as her plus one to an exclusive party. It was the kind of event you’d only ever seen in movies—swanky in every imaginable way. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above the ballroom, and servers in black and white uniforms roamed through the crowd with trays of champagne flutes. The guests were equally dazzling, dressed to the nines and carrying themselves with an effortless air of wealth and privilege.

“This is a lot,” you muttered under your breath as your sister handed you a glass of champagne.

“You’ll survive, I know it,” she said with a wink before leaning closer. “I’m about to go meet the investor. Try to enjoy yourself, okay? Mingle, sip your drink, and—”

“Don’t make bad decisions,” you finished for her, earning a laugh.

“Exactly. Have fun.” With that, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone to navigate the glittering hall.

You were still wondering how you’d accomplish her vague instructions when you felt the presence of another person beside you. Turning, you found Donghyuck leaning casually against the bar, his dark eyes unapologetically taking in the sight of you in your backless dress.

“I’ll be damned,” he drawled, smirking. “My princess herself, all the way here in Mykonos.”

“Donghyuck?” you asked, incredulous.

“The one and only,” he lilted, gesturing to himself. “Once again, fate has brought us together.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Me?” He gestured to himself with mock surprise. “I’m swooping in before anyone else can claim you. At parties like these, competition is stiff for a trophy like you, you know?”

You frowned, your annoyance rising as you realized he wasn’t entirely wrong. A quick glance around confirmed what he’d said—more than a few sets of eyes were darting in your direction.

“I didn’t come here to be anyone’s ‘trophy’,” you shot back, taking a sip of your champagne to hide your unease.

Donghyuck tilted his head, his smirk widening. “Then why do you look like a trophy wife for these rich degenerates?”

Your jaw dropped, peering down at your outfit. “Do I really?”

He shrugged with a maddening nonchalance. “Depends on who’s looking.”

Before you could retort, he stepped closer, draping an arm over your shoulder with the ease of someone who didn’t care about boundaries. He guided your gaze around the room, pointing out different groups.

“To those men over there, you’re a trophy wife. To that table of twenty-somethings in designer suits, you’re an unfamiliar face so they’d assume you’re a model, and they’re imagining how great you’d look in their arms for a few weeks. Months, if you’re lucky. And that balding creep in the corner?” He chuckled darkly. “You’re a potential mistress in his eyes.”

You crossed your arms, bristling. “How insightful.”

“As for me…” He let his eyes roam the lines of your back, exposed by the dress, before meeting your gaze. “You’re whatever I want you to be. Pick me.”

“Pick you?” you scoffed, stepping out from under his arm. “I didn’t come here to ‘pick’ anyone, Lee Donghyuck. Save your sales talk for someone who’s interested.”

You turned to leave, but Donghyuck was faster, blocking your path with that infuriating grin still in place. In one smooth motion, he slid his arm around your waist, leaning in just enough to make your pulse stutter.

“It’s Haechan,” he murmured, his voice lower now. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“What?”

“Haechan,” he repeated, extending a hand as if to formally introduce himself. “I’m not here as Lee Donghyuck.”

You swatted his hand away, narrowing your eyes. “What are you even talking about?”

“Identities are important, you know,” he said with a shrug. He reached up, brushing his fingers near your face, but you slapped his hand away.

“Get a grip, Hyuck,” you huffed, stepping around him.

“Your loss,” he called after you, lilting.

Without turning back, you raised a middle finger over your shoulder, earning a laugh from him that echoed behind you.

The swanky party was clearly not for you. You had lasted just long enough to grab a glass of champagne, exchange a few polite smiles, and endure Donghyuck’s insufferable antics before deciding you’d had enough. How his bum ass got invited to this party—or managed to come all the way to Mykonos was still beyond you, but it wasn’t worth your mental energy. You shoved him out of your thoughts and decided to make the most of the trip instead.

The next morning, you went to the hotel spa—quiet, luxurious, and promising some much-needed relaxation. After a soothing massage that left you feeling like a puddle of melted wax—in the best way—you headed to the sauna to unwind further. The warmth and the scent of eucalyptus welcomed you as you stepped through the door.

And then you froze.

There, in the dim light of the sauna, was Donghyuck. A girl in a hotel uniform straddled his lap, her lips pressed against his as his hands roamed freely. The sound of the door shutting behind you startled them apart. The girl scrambled off him, covering her face, as she darted past you without a word.

Donghyuck, on the other hand, looked completely unbothered. His gaze locked onto you, and a slow, predatory grin spread across his face. “Fancy meeting you here,” he drawled.

Your fingers tightened around the edge of your towel. “Seriously?”

“What?” He leaned back, completely at ease, the lines of his robe parting slightly to reveal the toned chest beneath. “You can’t blame a man for enjoying the amenities.”

“I should leave,” you muttered, but you stopped. Didn’t you just decide not to let him ruin your vacation? Well, you were gonna do just that, even if it meant sharing the space with him.

You took a seat as far away as possible, your back straight and your gaze fixed firmly ahead.

“You’re staying in this hotel too?” he asked, breaking the silence. “If this isn’t fate, then, I don’t know what else to call it.”

“I think you’re following me,” you shot back without looking at him.

He feigned a gasp. “Goodness, princess. I may be willing to lose a limb or two just to get a taste of that pussy, but I wouldn’t go as far as stalking.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the absurdity of his statement. Willing to lose a limb but wouldn’t do stalking? Does that even make sense? “Can we mind our own businesses?”

“Of course, of course,” he said with a shrug. “Don’t mind me.”

You were determined not to, but the sound of him shifting in his seat drew your attention. Your eyes darted to him before you could stop yourself. His hand was resting casually on his crotch, and though his robe concealed him, the motion of his fingers left no doubt about what he was doing.

“Donghyuck!” you hissed, mortified.

“What?” His tone was utterly unapologetic. “I told you not to mind me. But you’re welcome to help if you’re feeling generous.”

“You’re disgusting.”

He chuckled, unbothered by your insult. “Come on, princess. We both know you don’t mean that.”

“Ugh!” You grabbed your towel and stormed out of the sauna, your face burning, and annoyingly enough, it was not just from the heat.

Back in your suite, your sister looked up from her laptop, her brow furrowing at the sight of you. “What happened? You look pissed.”

“It’s nothing,” you muttered, heading straight for the bathroom.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” she called after you. “Did someone say something? Do I need to go talk to the staff?”

“No, it’s fine,” you insisted, shutting the door behind you.

You leaned against the sink, taking deep breaths as you tried to push the memory of Donghyuck’s shameless smirk from your mind. Moving to another hotel briefly crossed your mind, but you dismissed the idea. It was probably impossible anyway since you were not the one paying for your stay.

Still, as you splashed cold water on your face, his voice echoed in your ears, smooth and teasing. We both know you don’t mean that.

And that infuriating smirk lingered in your mind far longer than it should have.

You hadn’t meant to follow him. At least, that’s what you told yourself when you stepped out of the taxi in front of the sleek hotel, your heart pounding for reasons you refused to examine too closely.

“Lee Donghyuck!” you called out, your voice cutting through the night air.

He stopped just before the glass doors, turning with an infuriating slowness. The smirk on his face was triumphant as if he had been expecting you all along.

“There you are, love,” he asked, stepping back toward you. “Changed your mind?”

You folded your arms, trying to mask the nervous energy in your veins. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Too late for that,” he quipped, offering his hand for you to hold.

Inside, the lobby was grand, all marble and golden light. You stayed close to him as he guided you to the elevator, your resolve wavering with each step.

The ride up was silent at first. You stood side by side, watching your reflection in the mirror walls. You stole a glance at him—looking sharp despite his laidback outfit. His lips were slightly curved as though he could sense your gaze.

The seconds stretched unbearably long, you could almost swear the elevator had stopped. How long did it take to get to the 21st floor anyway?

“Are you always this patient?” he asked suddenly, his voice low and teasing.

You turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Instead of answering, Donghyuck moved, closing the gap between you. His gaze dropped to your lips, and before you could form a coherent thought, his hands were on your waist, and his mouth was crashing on yours.

It was hot and all-consuming. The tension that had been building all night exploded in that small elevator. Your back hit the cool wall as your lips moved hungrily against each other’s, his hands roaming as though he couldn’t decide where to touch you first.

As soon as you heard the soft ding of the elevator reaching your floor, Donghyuck pulled you with him into the hallway, his grip firm but not forceful. You didn’t even register the number of his suite as he unlocked the door, leading you inside.

The urgency didn’t fade. His jacket hit the floor, and his fingers found the zipper of your dress, tugging it down as he trailed kisses along your neck. Your breathing was ragged, your thoughts were a mess, until you felt his cold hands on your bare waist.

“Wait,” you exclaimed, your voice trembling as you stepped back.

Donghyuck paused immediately, looking at you with curious eyes. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t,” you blurted before you could stop yourself, hugging your arms around yourself.

There was a glint of disappointment in his eyes, the usual confidence in his expression disappearing. For a moment, you both just stood there, the tension slowly fading away. Then, to your surprise, he smiled. Not the cocky grin he always wore, but something gentler.

“Alright,” he said, stepping back. He pulled the sheets from the bed, gently wrapping them around you. “You should stay. It’s too late to go home now.”

You blinked at him, unsure if he was serious or joking. But then he didn’t say anything and just walked to the door.

“Hyuck…” you called softly, still confused at the sudden turn of events. “You stay. I’ll just take a cab home.”

He looked over his shoulder, his smirk returning. “Sleep tight, princess.”

You jolted awake in your hotel bed, your breath coming fast. The sunlight streaming through the curtains was far too bright, too cheerful, for how you felt. You recognized the white walls, the furniture, and the comfortable bed you were laying on. Right, you were in Mykonos for a vacation.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, sitting up and running a hand through your hair.

Of all the things to dream about, it had to be the memory of that night. You had been so close to crossing a line, so dangerously close to giving in to something you weren’t sure you could come back from. And it annoyed you that the memory didn’t feel nearly as regretful as it should have.

“Get it together,” you told yourself, swinging your legs out of bed.

That morning, you joined your sister for sightseeing, determined to keep busy and push Donghyuck out of your head. The sun was high, casting a warm glow over Mykonos’ iconic white-washed buildings and cobalt blue accents. Your sister was giddy, snapping pictures and dragging you along to every Instagram-worthy spot. At one point, you sat to rest on a bench overlooking the Aegean Sea, and then she sat down next to you, studying your face with a curious tilt of her head.

“I see the Greek charm isn’t growing on you yet,” she said, her voice lilting with teasing. “Still thinking about Jeno?”

The question caught you off guard, and you stared at her blankly. “What? No,” you said, the denial slipping out faster than you intended. You hadn’t thought about Jeno in days. Donghyuck had taken up all the space in your head, much to your dismay.

Your sister raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then why the long face?”

“I’m not—” you cut yourself off, sighing. “How do you even know about Jeno?”

“Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I saw your posts. You never post guys, so of course, I had to stalk him. Did you know his social media is, like, painfully normal? He only has, like, four posts, and it’s all gym selfies. No wonder things didn’t work out.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “You don’t even know half of it.”

“Well, I would’ve known if you told me,” she retorted, smirking. “Doesn’t matter. He’s old news. You’re here now. Why don’t you look around and find some hot European guy of Greek descent and have fun?”

“Pass,” you said firmly, shaking your head.

She gave you a side-eye, skeptical. “Seriously? You’re hopeless.”

Later that day, you found yourself lounging on a beautiful beach. The clear blue waters stretched endlessly before you, and the sound of waves was almost enough to lull you into a rare moment of peace. Almost.

That peace shattered the moment you spotted Donghyuck, casually draped over a sunbed at the nearby beach bar. His hair was tousled by the breeze, with a cocktail in one hand, and a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he ogled you.

He got up and strolled over with a confidence that was as irritating as it was magnetic. “Hi there,” he drawled, his gaze sweeping over your swimsuit. “We meet again.”

“You really have a knack for showing up where you’re not wanted, don’t you?” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

Donghyuck smirked, clearly enjoying your resistance. “Now, that’s not true. You are happy to see me. And if you’re not, well,” he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping, “I can change that.”

You huffed. “What do you want, Donghyuck?”

“Just to extend an invitation,” he said, stepping back and spreading his arms dramatically. “There’s a yacht party later. Lots of drinks, music, and, well, other fun stuff. You should come. It’s not every day you get to live the life of the rich and questionable.”

The invitation was tempting, as much as you hated to admit it. A sunset yacht party did sound incredible, but the idea of spending more time around Donghyuck made you hesitate. “Why would I trust you not to make it unbearable?”

He tilted his head, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “Oh, I don’t make promises I can’t keep. I like to go with the flow. See where it takes me.”

“Which means you’re not going to behave.”

“Depends on what you mean by behave,” he said, his tone teasing but his gaze intent. “So, what do you say? Risk it?”

You hesitated, knowing you should say no, but curiosity and excitement got the better of you. “Fine,” you said at last. “But play nice, or I’m leaving.”

Donghyuck chuckled, looking far too pleased with himself. “I can try.”

Later that evening, you were in your suite, pacing the room impatiently. The dress you’d chosen—a sleek, simple maroon mini dress with an open back and thin straps—was something you’d usually wear, but for some reason, you felt a little exposed in it. Your sister told you it was nice, despite its simplicity, but before she left for her dinner appointment, she suggested you change into something nicer.

You already felt naked as it is. There was no way you’d change into something more skimpy. You glanced at the clock. There was still time to back out. It’s not like Donghyuck would care if you didn’t show up. You could just crawl into bed and—

A few knocks at the door made you freeze. You weren’t expecting anyone, but you kind of had an idea who was on the other side of the door. Slowly, you walked over and opened it, only to find Donghyuck leaning against the doorframe. He looked annoyingly good in a loose black linen shirt and tailored trousers, his hair falling just right. He gave you a slow once-over, and his lips curved into that familiar smirk.

“Wow,” he said, his voice laced with teasing approval. “You really never disappoint.”

“Why are you here?” you asked, crossing your arms to hide the fact that his gaze had flustered you.

“Why am I here?” He pushed off the doorframe, standing a little too close. “I’m here to pick you up, that’s why. You didn’t think I’d let you walk down to the dock alone, did you?”

“I was actually thinking of canceling,” you admitted, stepping back as he strolled into the room uninvited.

“Too late. I’m here now, so you’re coming,” he said confidently, glancing around the suite before turning his attention back to you. He flashed a wicked grin. “Or if you want, we can just stay and have a good time. Just the two of us.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing past him to grab your clutch from the desk. “Let’s just go before I change my mind.”

The streets of Mykonos were lively with a crowd of tourists enjoying the island’s nightlife. You and Donghyuck walked side by side, his hands tucked casually into his pockets while you held onto your clutch like it was a lifeline.

“Nervous?” he asked, his tone light but probing.

“Why would I be nervous?” you shot back, a little too quickly.

He hummed, clearly unconvinced. “You’re gripping that bag like you’re ready to hit someone with it. You’ll have fun, trust me.”

“I don’t trust your idea of fun,” you muttered, earning a chuckle from him.

“You wound me, princess,” he said, feigning hurt. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll keep it PG tonight.”

You side-eyed him. “For some reason, I doubt that.”

“Smart girl,” he quipped, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “You know me so well.”

Donghyuck held your elbow, urging you to stop walking. You looked up at the sleek yacht before you, proud and majestic with the unmistakable sound of party music coming from it. You were both nervous and thrilled, your dress feeling slightly too casual and too much all at once. Donghyuck, on the other hand, looked completely at ease in his casual outfit, the top buttons of his shirt undone just enough to be enticing.

“Stop fidgeting,” he teased, watching as you adjusted your dress for what must have been the tenth time. “You look stunning. Besides,” he smirked, holding out a hand to help you climb aboard, “if anyone says otherwise, I’ll personally throw them overboard.”

Rolling your eyes, you took his hand and let him guide you up the gangway. His hand rested lightly on your lower back as he steered you through a maze of well-dressed guests. The yacht was packed with people who oozed wealth and influence—designer outfits, champagne flutes in hand, laughter echoing over as the boat swayed gently in the water.

“Welcome to the world of spoiled brats and trust fund babies,” Donghyuck said, leaning close so only you could hear.

“Really?” you replied, scoffing at the obvious snark in his tone.

He tilted his head toward a man talking to a small group. “That guy’s been disinherited twice and keeps crawling back. The woman next to him? Reality TV star. That one there has a ‘tech start-up’ which was an obvious cover for something much less legal.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How do you even know all this?”

He grinned. “I have friends in high places.”

Before you could respond, a loud voice cut through the crowd. “Haechan Lee! Is that you, mate?” A tall, blonde man with a British accent bounded over, pulling Donghyuck into a bear hug.

Haechan Lee. The name echoed in your mind, unfamiliar and jarring.

Another man joined them, clapping Donghyuck on the back. “Haechan! Fucking finally, man! It’s been too long!” said another.

You stared, trying to piece it together. You’d only ever known him as Donghyuck, and so had everyone else back at university. Does he actually have a different name? Was this some kind of alter ego? Or could it be a rich-people thing—having multiple names for different aspects of their lives?

Now that you thought about it, was Donghyuck rich?

Looking at him now, standing in the midst of wealth and luxury, he seemed to fit in effortlessly. His charm and the way he mirrored the polished demeanor of everyone else here—everything about him looked the part. But you’d known him since freshman year and you knew he had been living with Mark Lee, possibly mooching off of him like a homeless man. He even got kicked out last semester and had to sleep in the library for days.

Your train of thought broke when the blonde man turned to you, flashing a grin. “Now, brother,” he began, his gaze sweeping over you with polite curiosity, “won’t you introduce us to your lovely date?”

“Please tell me she’s not some pretty lady you randomly picked up on your way here?” the other friend chimed in, his tone light, though the comment struck a nerve.

You raised an eyebrow, slightly offended although there was no hint of insult in his question. Donghyuck’s hand found your waist.

“Ah, of course,” he said smoothly, his gaze flitting toward you. He introduced you by name, his voice carrying a subtle possessive hint. “She’s a very good friend from university.”

The British man extended his hand. “Harvey. Pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m Luca,” the other one added, shaking hands with you as well. “I’m hosting this little gathering.”

Little gathering? You echoed in your mind, looking around said gathering which was nowhere near ‘little’ at all.

“Nice to meet you. It’s a lovely party,” you chimed, saying whatever comes to your mind just to be polite.

Luca smirked, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Lovely is one way to put it.” He gestured around the deck. “Give it an hour, and let me know if you still think it’s lovely by then.” He winked at you before being pulled away by someone from the crowd. Harvey got swept away too.

“Okay,” you said, glancing at Donghyuck. “What does he mean by that?”

Donghyuck shrugged, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You’ll see. Come on, let’s get something to drink.”

He led you further into the party, weaving effortlessly through the crowd as if he belonged there. His hand remained on your back, a touch that felt both reassuring and entirely too intimate. He introduced you to several other people. You shook hands with a couple of young entrepreneurs, exchanged polite smiles with a famous model, and even shared a laugh with an actor you’d seen from a popular Netflix series. Each introduction was seamless, and each of them seemed like they genuinely knew who Donghyuck was.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” he said, sipping champagne as the two of you moved to a quieter corner of the deck.

“At what?”

“Schmoozing,” he replied, gesturing toward the crowd.

You shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it schmoozing. Just... reading the room and playing the part.”

“And what part is that?”

You grinned teasingly. The alcohol you’d been drinking all evening had made you loosen up a little. “Haechan’s lovely date.”

Donghyuck’s lips curled into a boyish grin that was equal parts charm and mischief. He stepped closer, his hand finding your waist again as he leaned in slightly. “They’re not wrong. You are very lovely. What do you say, we go and check out the lower deck? Luca promised me my own cabin for tonight, you see.”

You rolled your eyes, gently pushing him back. “Come on, Hyuck. You can at least try to be subtle about it.”

He chuckled, unabashed. “Nah. Subtle or not, you’d still say no.”

“You knew that and yet, you never get tired of asking,” you teased, side-eyeing him as you turned on your heel, leaving him to follow in your wake.

Behind you, Donghyuck chuckled softly, and even without looking, you knew damn well that he was smirking and ogling you from behind.

You tried to resist the pull of his charm, keeping your responses to his flirting curt, sharp, or sarcastic. But Donghyuck had a way of disarming you, his persistence wearing down your defenses one witty remark at a time. His fingers lingered on yours each time he passed you a glass of champagne. And his teasing seamlessly turned into genuine compliments that made you glance away just to hide the faint smile tugging at your lips.

“You’ll fall for me eventually,” he teased, catching your elbow when you almost lost your footing on an uneven plane. “I think you should slow down.”

“Are you kidding me? There is an unlimited amount of Dom Perignon just within reach and you want me to slow down?” you quipped, grinning playfully.

“I feel like you’re only here for the drinks,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you.

That made you cock an eyebrow at him. “You said there’d be drinks and food. That’s why I’m here.”

Donghyuck feigning a pained expression. “And here I thought you came to spend quality time with me. My poor fragile heart.”

You laughed a tad too loosely, throwing your head back as you held onto his arm to keep yourself steady. He laughed too, nice and unguarded, but then your gaze met his, and something about the way he looked at you made your breath catch for just a moment.

Clearing your throat, you straightened up and set your glass aside. “Wow, I can’t believe I’m laughing at something you said,” you murmured. “I must be drunk.”

“It’s okay to admit that I’m charming and sexy, princess.”

You snorted before you could stop yourself. “Sexy? Where did that come from?” you quipped, shaking your head but unable to fully ignore the warmth creeping up your neck.

The party’s atmosphere had shifted. The laughter around you was louder, the dancing more uninhibited. Couples huddled close, their kisses and touches bolder under the dim lights. In every corner of the deck, groups lounged on plush seats, passing around vapes with glowing tips and tiny glass bottles you quickly recognized as poppers. People on the dance floor danced with carefree, euphoric movements suggesting the effects of something stronger than alcohol.

Your stomach twisted. It wasn’t unexpected. Wild, exclusive yacht parties like this were known for their hedonistic nature. But seeing it firsthand was still unsettling.

Donghyuck caught your change in demeanor instantly. He leaned down, voice low but teasing. “Am I to assume this is your first time seeing rich kids go off the rails?”

“Not at all. I go to swanky yacht parties every weekend. This is nothing,” you deadpanned.

He laughed just as a guy approached, holding out a slim vape, a small pill, and a bottle of poppers. His grin was loose, his pupils wide—already several levels deep into whatever he was offering.

Donghyuck waved him off with an easy smile. “Not tonight. Tryna stay sober.”

The guy shrugged and moved on, but not before turning to you with the same offer. You hesitated, your curiosity gnawing at you, but Donghyuck’s hand was resting on your back protectively.

“You don’t need to indulge these people,” he whispered in your ear. “It would be better if you didn’t try any of that tonight.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a smirk. “Since when do you get to tell me what to do?”

“I’m not telling you what to do,” he replied, his smirk matching yours. “Just saying, you wouldn’t want your first time getting high to be on a yacht full of strangers.”

You tilted your head, feigning curiosity. “What makes you think this would be my first time?”

He studied you for a moment, his smile softening. “Just a hunch.”

Before you could retort, Luca appeared between you, his presence sudden and disorienting. He threw an arm around both your shoulders, and you caught a whiff of the faint scent of champagne and something sharper clinging to him. His pupils were wide, and his grin was crooked and lazy.

“Still think this party’s lovely?” he slurred, glancing between you and Donghyuck.

You shot Donghyuck a look, but he only raised an amused eyebrow, his hand steadying you against Luca’s weight.

Luca grinned wider, extending a hand—offering you a small pill. “How about a little something to really enjoy it?”

You glanced down at the pill in Luca’s outstretched hand, then back up at his expectant face.

“I’m good,” you said, waving him off with a smile.

Luca huffed dramatically, slipping the pill back into his pocket. “You two are so boring.” Then, with an exaggerated stumble, he turned to a nearby group, seamlessly inserting himself into their little party within the party.

Donghyuck glanced down at you, his smile smoldering as his hand subtly tightened around your waist. “Good girl,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You rolled your eyes and pushed him away. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“I know. I’m just saying, it’s a good choice,” he replied, patting your head. “I do some of that stuff too. But, you have to be in the right state of mind to enjoy it.”

“I see. Thanks for the input,” you said, though it came out a little sarcastic.

Donghyuck chuckled, tugging you closer as he leaned into your ear. “Tell you what—how about we ditch the party for a bit? You, me, a quiet cabin, and maybe… just a little more champagne?”

You gave him a sideways glance. “You really can’t be subtle, can you?”

Donghyuck shrugged, completely unapologetic. “Why be subtle when you’ve already made it clear I’ve got your attention?”

Your eyes fluttered to his lips, so close that if you moved an inch, you’d definitely kiss. How nice would that be? You knew damn well that he was a really good kisser.

The image of you kissing him flickered in your mind, jolting you back to sobriety. You pushed him away gently, maintaining the teasing tension between you despite the sudden surge of embarrassment.

“Nice try. But I’m not here for whatever you’re selling.”

He leaned back slightly, still grinning. “You sure about that? ‘Cause I’m feeling like you’re just one more drink away from saying yes.”

“Don’t count on it,” you replied, shaking your head with a mock-serious expression.

Donghyuck’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “Ah, the classic ‘don’t count on it.’ The universal no with a little bit of yes mixed in it.” He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time, then?”

You couldn’t help but smirk back, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. “Maybe,” you said.

You were both laughing with a group of his friends swarmed in, their energy louder than the music.

“Haechan, let’s go!” one of them shouted, grabbing his wrist. “We need you for a shot roulette.”

“I’m in the middle of something,” Donghyuck protested, his hand brushing yours in the motion.

“Oh, come on,” another whined, already pulling him away. “It’s tradition.”

He turned back to you, grinning. “You coming?”

You shook your head. “I’m good. Go be a menace somewhere else.”

He grinned, squeezing your wrist before he let them drag him away. “Don’t get too lonely without me.”

You rolled your eyes, watching as he disappeared into the crowd.

Alone now, you took a deep breath, scanning the party with fresh eyes. The energy had thickened with the haze of something heavier than champagne. You wandered aimlessly for a while, letting the party wash over you, until your gaze landed on a familiar figure in a loose circle of people near the edge of the deck.

It was Luca. He caught your eye instantly, grinning as he lifted a hand and beckoned you over.

The reasonable part of you told you to turn around, to find Donghyuck or just enjoy the rest of the night without venturing too far into unfamiliar territory. But curiosity tugged at you, insistent and tempting.

Luca raised an eyebrow, waving a slim vape between his fingers. It wasn’t like a pill, wasn’t like the tiny bottles of poppers you’d seen passed around earlier. It was just a vape. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you stepped forward.

Luca’s grin widened as you joined the circle. “Look who finally decided to live a little.”

Someone handed you the vape, its tip glowing faintly in the dim light. You turned it between your fingers, your heart starting to beat a little faster.

Then, before you could change your mind, you lifted it to your lips and took a hit. The taste was sweeter than you expected, a smooth burn trailing down your throat before settling in your lungs. You exhaled slowly, watching the vapor float into the night air.

Luca chuckled, leaning in. “Not so boring after all.”

Hanging out with them was far better than you were expecting. Maybe it was the warmth of the night, or the wholesome laughter rippling through the circle. Maybe it was the THC threading its way through your bloodstream, making everything feel just a little lighter. Either way, you found yourself enjoying their company.

They were less obnoxious than you’d assumed and more entertaining than you’d expected. They cracked jokes, gossiped about people you didn’t know, and shared wild stories about past parties.

At some point, the topic drifted to Donghyuck.

“He’s usually the life of the party,” someone said, taking a slow drag. “Kind of weird seeing him so… tame.”

Luca smirked. “Yeah. Makes sense that he’s more focused on her than us, though.”

You frowned. “Why’s that?”

He gave you a knowing look. “Because you’re not like the rest of us.”

You weren’t sure what to make of that. But before you could dwell on it, the high started creeping further in, smoothing over your thoughts. Your giggles came easier, the music felt richer, and your body moved to it more fluidly.

You swayed to the beat, your limbs loose and weightless. The world blurred just enough to make everything feel softer, dreamier. That’s when you felt fingertips tracing over your thigh.

You turned your head, locking eyes with a girl beside you. She was pretty. Glowing in the low lighting, with her dark sleek hair, and her lips parted in a knowing smile. Her touch was featherlight, uncertain but confident, while her eyes were holding yours as if waiting for a reaction. And in your hazy, heady state, you recognized the look in them—bold, inviting.

She leaned in, her breath warm against your cheek, and you felt yourself tilting forward, drawn into the moment and into her.

But just as your lips were about to meet, a hand wrapped firmly around your wrist. You barely had time to process it before you were being pulled back, yanked out of the circle with a force that snapped you out of your haze.

Your head spun as you stumbled slightly, catching yourself against Donghyuck’s firm chest.

“What the hell are you doing?” he said in a low but sharp voice. He kept his grip steady, with an unreadable expression as he looked down at you.

The world felt like it tilted slightly under your feet, the high still buzzing in your veins. You blinked up at him, dazed, confused. Donghyuck exhaled sharply and pulled you through the crowd, past drunken laughter and swaying bodies, until the noise faded gradually. He pushed open a cabin door and led you inside, closing it behind him with more force than necessary.

“Are you out of your mind?” he demanded with a sharp voice, cutting through the haze in your head. “You don’t just get high with people you barely know!”

You scoffed, barely processing his words. “Why do you care?” Your voice came out slurred with irritation. “Who are you to drag me away like you have a fucking say in what I do?”

Donghyuck exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. “Jesus, you’re impossible.”

You caught the way his jaw clenched, the way his lips parted mid-breath, the way frustration sharpened his features in a way that made your stomach flutter. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the vape. Maybe it was the way he looked at you; exasperated, unyielding, so stupidly attractive it made your head spin for a completely different reason.

Before you could think, you grabbed onto his shirt, yanking him down as you crashed your lips into his.

His back hit the door with a thud, freezing for a split second. Then his hands found your waist, and his lips parted under yours.

Then he kissed you back—hard, reckless, like he’d been waiting for this as much as you had. You had no idea where you strength was coming from, but you managed to haul him from the door to the bed, pinning him down and trapping his arms on the mattress.

He smirked under your gaze, shaking his head. “Let’s not do this right now.”

You tilted your head, batting your eyelashes as you leaned down to kiss his jaw. “Why not?”

You let go of his hands and started unbuttoning his shirt. Donghyuck let out a breathy chuckle, catching your wrists before you could strip him out of his shirt.

“Princess,” he drawled, reaching for your cheek and kissing the side of your head. “Calm down.”

“Why?” you whined, scowling in irritation.

He planted a soft kiss on your lips and said, “Let’s not do this tonight.”

“Why?” you pressed, getting more impatient now. “I thought you wanted me?”

His grip on you tightened. He did. God, he did. More than he’d ever wanted anyone before. But now that he was here, trapped between your legs, he couldn’t seem to make a move on you. “You’re drunk and high.”

“I know what I’m doing,” you scoffed, slapping his hands away and tugging his shirt off. You lowered your lips to his neck, letting your kisses trail down to his collarbone and chest.

Donghyuck groaned, running a hand down his face. “Hah, I’ll be damned.”

You raised your head to look at him, pouting. “Just stay with me,” you lilted, reaching for his cheek and leaning to kiss him but he avoided it, looking away as he took your hands off his face.

“Come on. I’ll take you back to the hotel,” he insisted, sitting up.

“No!” You jumped off his lap, running to the back of the cabin.

With a sigh, Donghyuck shook his head, only to freeze in place when he saw you unzipping your dress. The silky fabric pooled at your feet. Then, with zero hesitation, your underwear followed. You stood there, completely bare, eyes bright with mischief.

“Come on, Haechan,” you called out, opening your arms wide. “No one is tearing a limb off of you. So come have a taste of this.”

Donghyuck clenched his fists. Then unclenched them. He had no idea whether to groan in frustration or throw his head back and laugh.

Instead, he crossed the room in long strides, grabbing you by the waist and crashing his lips to yours. The heat between you reignited in an instant, your fingers tangling in his hair, his hands gripping your bare hips like he might lose his mind if he didn’t touch you.

But then he pulled back and annoyance surge through you again. Your breath was heavy, lips swollen as you snapped, “What is it this time?”

Donghyuck exhaled sharply, dark eyes boring through you. “Tell me you won’t regret it.”

“I won’t,” you replied without missing a beat.

His face visibly relaxed, the flamboyant smirk finally returning. “Good,” he said before he kissed you with an intensity that stole the breath out of your lungs.

You woke up to a dull headache and an aching clarity about the night before. The memories washed over you like a cold bucket of water. You blinked, trying to recognize the room. You could feel Donghyuck warmly pressed against your back.

You were naked. So was he. You didn’t need to rack your brain to recall everything, you were sure something had happened between you. You remembered initiating it but everything after that was a blur of kisses and an intoxicating high.

Carefully, you slipped out from under the covers, scanning the room for your clothes. Your dress was crumpled on the floor but your underwear was nowhere in sight. Great.

“Come back to bed,” Donghyuck murmured, his voice thick and slurred with sleep.

Before you could protest, he caught you by the waist and tugged you back down. You landed with a small bounce, his arms securing around you like he had no intention of letting go.

“I’m not some awful one-night stand,” he mumbled against your shoulder. “Don’t treat me like one.”

Your cheeks warmed. “I wasn’t.”

He hummed, burying his face into the crook of your neck. The brush of his lips against your skin, accidental or not, sent a nice shiver down your spine. “Are you regretting it?” he asked.

You swallowed. “No.” A pause. “I mean… I basically begged you for it, so no. I don’t…”

Donghyuck shifted behind you, pressing even closer. The heat of him was overwhelming, his skin smooth where it brushed yours. You tried to ignore it, but it was hard not to melt in his warmth.

“Sorry,” he said suddenly.

You blinked. “That’s new. You're apologizing.” You turned your head slightly, catching a glimpse of him. “You’re not exactly the type.”

He exhaled. “I mean it. I’m sorry.”

You hesitated. “Don’t be. Like I said, I asked for it. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.”

Donghyuck scoffed in amusement before propping himself up on one elbow, peering down at you with a smirk. His dark eyes flickered with mischief. “You don’t remember anything at all, do you?”

You scoffed defensively, turning your head slightly. “I do. Duh. I don’t black out when I drink.”

He chuckled, his amusement only making you more uneasy. “Where are we right now?”

“In the yacht…” you trailed off, looking around only to realize you were in a spacious suite, with sunlight streaming in from the balcony doors.

“You didn’t black out, princess,” Donghyuck prompted, chuckling. “You fell asleep.”

You stiffened. “What?”

“You begged for this dick and knocked out right when I was about to give it to you.”

Your eyes widened. “WHAT?”

Donghyuck snickered, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Didn’t think you were the snoring type.”

Your mortification doubled. “I don’t snore!”

“How would you know?”

“How would I not know?”

He only grinned, flopping back against the pillows. “Why don’t you stay a little longer and I’ll tell you all about it?”

Before you could wriggle away, he pulled you in tighter, his grip warm and firm, lips dangerously close to your ear.

You stayed like that for a while, tangled in the sheets, wrapped in his warmth. The slow rise and fall of his chest against your back was almost lulling, the quiet morning stretching between you.

“How did we…” you paused, hesitating. “When did we leave the yacht?”

“I brought you here after you passed out.”

“Did we really not do it?” you asked again, voice softer this time.

Donghyuck groaned. “Stop. I’m already annoyed about it as it is.”

You bit back a laugh, twisting in his arms until you were facing him. His eyes were still close, but your movement made him crack one open, dark and heavy with sleep as they locked onto yours.

You tilted your head slightly. “How about doing it now?”

That seemed to wake him up in an instant. His eyes dragged over your face, lingering on your lips as his signature smirk appeared. “I know I’m irresistible, but I didn’t think you’d become this desperate for me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up.”

Then you kissed him. Donghyuck didn’t even hesitate, flipping you onto your back as he deepened it, his hands already sliding down your sides, warm and possessive.

Somewhere between breaths, he pulled away just enough to murmur against your lips, “Just a warning. I’m not very gentle.”

You smirked, fingers twisting into his hair. “Promises.”

“Oh,” he chimed, impressed. “I’ll take that as a challenge,” he added, chuckling as he dipped to kiss you again.

His laughter melted into the kiss, deep and rich, like he was thoroughly enjoying himself. And knowing Donghyuck, he was. He loved this, he’d wanted this for so long. Now he’s teasing, pushing and pulling, all while enjoying the way your breath hitched when he touched you just right.

His hands roamed freely, fingers tracing the curve of your waist, then lower, pressing into your inner thigh but not touching it just yet. His lips explored the sensitive parts of your ear, your neck, your collarbone, and your chest. Each kiss left an imprint that would not only brand your skin, but would most definitely leave a mark on your soul too. Every movement felt like he was testing, learning exactly how to unravel you.

“You’re quiet,” he mused. His eyes, dark and half-lidded, swept over your face like he was savoring every little flicker of emotion you were making. “Second thoughts?”

You rolled your eyes, pretending to be unbothered. “No.”

His smirk deepened. “Then what’s got you so shy?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but his fingers teased at your sex, sliding up once, just enough to make you shiver in anticipation and need.

He was waiting. He wanted you to squirm first.

You swallowed, pulse racing faster as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “I’m not—”

Donghyuck hummed, cutting you off as he firmly pressed against your clit. “You sure?”

His fingers pressed harder, his eyes glimmering as he watched the way your breath hitched. “So bold and sexy when you ask for it, but the second I touch you, you get all shy on me.” His finger traced your folds, making you bite your lips to stifle a gasp. “It’s cute.”

You scoffed, trying to look unaffected despite the desire that was starting to engulf you. “You talk too much.”

He grinned. “And yet you keep kissing me.”

To prove his point, he leaned in again, capturing your lips. He kissed you like he wanted you breathless, like he wanted to hear every little sound you made. You barely had time to think before he shifted, pressing closer, the heat of him sinking into your skin.

Donghyuck’s hand slid to your thigh, all the way back to your cunt, his thumb stroking absently over it once he’d cupped it. He didn’t rush—just watched you, waiting, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

Your breath came uneven as you held his gaze. “Lee Donghyuck, I swear to god, if you keep this up, I’ll—”

His lips were on yours before you could finish, swallowing your words with a deep, satisfied hum. And just like that, you lost yourself to him again. His fingers toyed with your sex—pressing, pinching, going in and out with the precision of someone adept at this kind of thing. You couldn’t even let out a sound with his lips ravaging yours.

“Ready, princess?” he whispered in your ear, and you hadn’t even fully processed it yet when you felt the sharp, unmistakable sensation of his manhood sliding into you.

You gasped loudly, surprised in the best way. You could feel it—all of it, in its entirety—the delightful stretch, the tingles spreading through your nerves and awakening your entire being.

Your nails dragged lightly up his spine, just enough to make him shiver. His response was surprising—a sharp inhale, the slight flex of his dick inside you. You realized then that he wasn’t as composed as he appeared to be, with his brows twitching ever so slightly as he eased himself into you.

“Hyuck,” you breathed, searching his face.

Donghyuck forced a laugh, leaning down to kiss you again. “I knew it,” he said against your lips, grinning.

“Knew what?” you whispered back, your breath hitching when he rutted his hips slowly.

“It’s so much better than in my head.” His weight pressed you into the mattress, one hand braced beside your head, and the other keeping your legs open. He was everywhere—his scent, his heat, the drag of his hips against yours. There was nothing careful about it, nothing soft.

At some point, the stimulation got so overwhelming that you had to push him back in a futile attempt to regain control of your own body.

“Relax,” Donghyuck whispered, his voice like velvet. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, sending a shiver down your spine. “You asked for this, didn’t you?”

You swallowed hard, unable to look at him, but he wasn’t having that. He caught your chin, tilting your face toward him. His eyes were dark, heavy-lidded, filled with something that made your cunt clench against him.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he teased. His lips curved into a smirk as he felt the way your body tensed at his words. “What happened, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?”

You exhaled shakily. “Shut up.”

A low chuckle. “Not a chance.” He moved his hips again, thrusts both slow and heavy, like he was savoring every reaction he pulled from you.

You exhaled sharply, covering your mouth to stop yourself from moaning. Donghyuck took your hands and held them tightly, pressing them on the mattress above your head.

“Don’t be shy, love. Let’s hear you sing,” he lilted, ramming harder and faster, making you moan and whimper louder. “I like hearing you like this. All breathless. All mine.”

You were reeling, spiraling deeper down into the vice of his cock. Each thrust was sending so much pleasure through your body that you feared you’d levitate—you actually thought you would if you don’t hold onto something, anything.

But when you tried to free your hands from his grip, Donghyuck only tightened his hold until your wrists started to hurt. And even the pain of being restrained was delightful, sending you further up the clouds and turning you into a mumbling, whimpering, moaning mess.

“Look at you,” he murmured, gaze dragging over your face, down to your parted lips. “So fucking beautiful.” His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, his voice dropping into something more intimate, more dangerous. “You like this, don’t you?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer, but the way your body arched into his and your hips bucked for more said enough.

“Yeah,” he hummed in satisfaction. “That’s what I thought,” he added, shifting his pace from fast to languid, and then faster again with heavy thrusts that made the bed shake.

“Hyuck,” you breathed out, mouth gaping open and your eyes rolling back.

He laughed, low and smug, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. Then, just to be a menace, he stopped, pulling back slightly to watch you squirm. His fingers played with your nipple, and he focused on your neck for a moment, sucking and smooching while his hand kneaded your boob. It was pleasant in itself, but you couldn’t ignore the obvious emptiness between your legs.

“Donghyuck, put it back inside,” you whined, your voice both pleading and annoyed.

Donghyuck chuckled darkly. “You’re so impatient.”

“And you’re—” You sucked in a breath as he pushed his dick back into you. You glared. He was enjoying this way too much—watching you melt under him, forcing you to beg him for it.

So you did the only thing you could do. You tugged your hands free and kissed him hard, knocking him off balance just enough to flip him onto his back. He let out a surprised grunt, but the shock barely lasted a second before he was grinning up at you, hands already sliding down your thighs as you straddled his hips.

“That’s cute,” he mused, fingers pressing into your skin. “Taking control like the bold woman that you are.”

Your nails dragged down his chest, slow and teasing. “You don’t like that?”

“Me? Oh, I love that,” he replied, his hands flexed on your thighs. “Show me what you’re made of, princess."

Your breath caught. He dared you to. “I hate when you call me that,” you smirked, moving your hips slowly, steadily, his dick filling you up deliciously.

You leaned down, letting your lips graze his jaw, his throat, tasting the heat of his skin. His pulse was steady beneath your lips, but when you bounced your hips against his, his breath would hitch, fingers tightening against your hips.

Then, in an instant, he moved. A sharp gasp left you as he flipped you back onto the mattress, pinning you beneath him once more. The room spun for half a second, and then he was there again, hovering over you, lips curved in that annoyingly attractive smirk.

“Cute,” he murmured. “But not today, princess. I’ll let you have your fun next time.”

He kissed you then, slow and deep, as if he had all the time in the world to ruin you. His words didn’t stop, not even between breaths, not even when his thrusts became erratic and relentless, setting every nerve in your body on fire.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, lips grazing the corner of your mouth. “So fucking perfect.”

Every touch, every word pulled you deeper under his spell. He was guiding you, coaxing you, drawing out every little reaction like he was trying to study and remember them.

And when your breath hitched, when your body trembled from the sheer overwhelming intensity of it all, he smiled against your skin. It was sudden and dizzying, like losing control and finding it at the same time. Your muscles tensed, hands clawing at his shoulders desperately.

“That’s it,” he whispered, biting your ear. “Let it go, princess. Don’t be shy.”

He rammed harder and faster, riding your high while chasing his own. You lost control of your own voice, screaming and moaning out his name as he drove you further to the edge.

Just as you felt like you’d lose your mind from the intensity of it all, the world suddenly stopped spinning. Donghyuck fell on top of you, his weight slowly bringing you back to your senses. For a moment there was only the sound of breathing and groaning, both of you still a little lost in the haze of what had just happened.

Then Donghyuck spoke. “How was that?”

You scoffed, pushing him off of you. Donghyuck let himself fall on the bed beside you, watching you with a satisfied smirk on his face. He looked tired, and oddly attractive, with his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and that ever-present smirk on his lips.

He reached to push the stray hairs out of your face, gathering them in his fingers and bringing them to his nose. “You’re pretty like this.”

Heat flared in your cheeks, and Donghyuck noticed because of course, he did. His grin turned wicked. “You blushing?”

“No.”

He hummed, thoroughly unconvinced as he leaned in and brushed his lips against your ear. “Liar.”

A shiver ran down your spine, and he felt it, because he laughed again—soft, smug, entirely too pleased with himself. “It’s okay. I think it’s cute.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so—”

“Charming? Handsome? Completely irresistible? Incredibly good in bed?” You glared at him, and he just grinned, tilting his head. “If you have a complaint, I’m all ears.”

He was impossible. But he was also looking at you like he wanted you, like he needed you, and you had never felt so dizzy off someone’s attention before.

You huffed. “Just—kiss me again.”

Donghyuck let out a satisfied breath. “As you wish,” he murmured, and then he did.

It was almost noon when you stirred awake, still in Donghyuck’s suite, still sore from the morning’s events. The space beside you was cold, and the sheets rumpled, but you didn’t have time to wonder where he’d gone before the balcony door swung open.

Donghyuck stepped inside, looking annoyingly fresh—showered, well-dressed, sunglasses perched on his nose. He spotted you sitting up and grinned.

“You’re up?” He pulled off his sunglasses and tossed them onto a nearby chair. “Good. Let’s get you dressed and ready.”

You blinked at him, still groggy. He strolled over, settling onto the edge of the bed, one leg crossed over the other. His gaze roamed over you with something like admiration, but mostly smug satisfaction. “I’m taking you out. Exploring, shopping, some fun.”

“Why?” you mumbled, leaning against his chest, still half-asleep.

Donghyuck chuckled, brushing a hand down your back. “To reward you, of course.”

Your brows furrowed, but you didn’t pull away just yet. “For what?”

He tilted his head, grinning. “That pussy was immaculate. I consider it a great honor to have experienced it, so you deserve a treat.”

You snapped upright and glared at him. “You’re treating me because I had sex with you?”

He nodded, completely unbothered. “Yeah. Why?”

“Don’t you think that’s objectifying me a little too much?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “So?”

Your mouth fell open. “So?”

Donghyuck laughed, amused by your outrage. “Listen, princess. If you’re expecting me to say I love you after what happened this morning, don’t count on it. That might’ve worked for you before, but I don’t give my heart out that easily.”

Your irritation flared into something hotter. “What? That’s not even—” You cut yourself off with an exasperated exhale before grabbing the nearest pillow and hurling it at him. “Get the fuck out.”

His grin widened. “This is my room.”

You shot to your feet. “Then I’ll get the fuck out.”

Before you could storm off, Donghyuck caught your waist and pulled you back onto the bed, pressing you into the mattress with a slow, deliberate kiss. It was deep, teasing, like he was daring you to stay mad at him. When he pulled away, he was smirking again, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw.

“If you don’t want to go,” he murmured, “just say so. We can stay here, and I can repay you in other ways.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, thank you. My legs are weak and I have no energy.”

He hummed, tapping a thoughtful finger against his chin. “Then I guess we’re going shopping.”

That was it. You shoved him off you, sitting up with a scowl. “I’m not some whore who needs to be paid, Hyuck.”

The words left your mouth before you could soften them, but you didn’t regret them. You stood up, grabbing your dress and purse from the floor, before reaching for the robe you’d left in the bathroom.

Donghyuck sat up, confusion flickering across his face. “Hey, come on now, princess. I didn’t say you were.”

“Then stop with this repayment bullshit and leave me alone,” you snapped.

For a moment, he just stared at you, completely caught off guard. You held his gaze, sharp and unwavering, before turning on your heel and storming toward the door. Even as he called after you, you didn’t look back. The door slammed shut behind you.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the sharpness in your eyes not faltering while he looked genuinely shocked by the turn of events. With a huff, you walked toward the door, not sparing him a glance even as he called after you. You slammed the door shut in his face and let out a sigh.

“Asshole,” you muttered under your breath, exhaling sharply as you made your way back to your suite.

Your sister had just stepped out of the shower when you walked in. She took one look at your expression—the furrowed brows, the lingering frustration—and blinked.

“Did something happen?”

You ran a hand through your hair. “You’re not gonna ask where I was last night?”

“I knew you went to a yacht party.”

“Yeah, and I’m coming back just now.”

She shrugged, grabbing some clothes from the closet. “You texted me this morning, didn’t you?”

Right. You had. Just a quick I’m fine. Safe.

“What happened?” she asked, glancing at you. “Was he a jerk?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Yeah. A big one.”

You didn’t tell your sister much about what happened, and thankfully, she didn’t press. She seemed to understand, offering only a knowing glance before changing the subject.

“Come have lunch with us. The person I came here to meet,” she clarified, checking her phone. “Lee Taeyong. He’s the one I’ve been negotiating with.”

You didn’t have much of an appetite, but sitting alone in your room didn’t sound appealing either. So you agreed.

The restaurant was upscale but relaxed, with a bright open-air terrace overlooking the ocean. The salty breeze and chatter of well-dressed patrons made the atmosphere feel light despite the heaviness still lingering in your chest. That was where you met Lee Taeyong.

You’d expected an older man, maybe middle-aged with graying hair and a sharp suit. But instead, the man who stood when you and your sister approached was young. Around your sister’s age. He was handsome, not in an intimidating way, but in a way that made you understand why your sister had made an effort to dress up a little today.

He extended a hand as soon as he saw you. “You must be her little sister.”

You shook it. His grip was firm and warm. “Yeah. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he said, giving you a quick, assessing glance. “I’ve heard about you.”

You shot your sister a look. “Oh?”

“She told me you’re in college abroad,” Taeyong said, smiling as he sat back down. “That must be exciting.”

“I guess.” You slid into your seat, not sure what else to say.

“All my siblings went abroad for college, except me, so I’m a little jealous of you,” he chimed, smiling.

He was polite, friendly, and surprisingly accommodating. At one point, he even offered to upgrade your suite, but your sister waved him off with a smile. “That’s so nice of you, sir, but we’re fine. We’re well taken cared of.”

“It’s Mykonos. Surely you lovely ladies would love to have some privacy while you’re here,” he said, his tone suggestive but not prying.

Your sister laughed lightly. “I think my sister might. We’ve been here three days and she’s already having a blast.”

“Ah, youth,” Taeyong remarked, and then the two of them laughed heartily.

You simply smiled, looking away as you took a sip of your drink. “You guys are not that old,” you murmured to yourself, finding their banter amusing.

Lunch was pleasant, though most of the conversation was between Taeyong and your sister. They talked about business—negotiations, investment plans, projected growth. You barely followed along, focusing instead on your food. Every now and then, they’d bring you into the conversation with a casual remark or a question, but you mostly just listened.

After lunch, Taeyong excused himself to attend another meeting, leaving you and your sister alone at the table.

“Nice guy,” you commented, swirling the last of your drink.

Your sister smirked. “He is. And he’s impressive, too.”

She leaned forward, lowering her voice slightly as she added, “He’s got an insane background. Top of his class, multiple investments, speaks like five languages. And—” she gestured around, “—this hotel? His family owns it.”

You raised an eyebrow. Of course he wasn’t just an investor. Guys like him didn’t just invest in places like this. They owned them.

“Isn’t he from South Korea?”

Your sister shrugged. “He is. Don’t even get me started. They have more hotels in Korea and hotel business is not even their family’s main business.”

“Oh, damn. He’s a nepo baby.”

“Of course, he is. South Korea is big on conglomerates and dynasties. But the best thing about Lee Taeyong is that he’s really, extremely capable.”

Your sister finished the last of her wine and set her glass down with a satisfied sigh. “So, wanna go shopping?”

You made a face. “I just ate.”

She laughed. “Perfect time to walk it off, then.” With no better plans, you sighed and got up to follow her.

The streets of Mykonos were lively as usual—tourists drifting in and out of boutiques, the occasional rev of a motorbike, and the distant sound of a street musician playing for spare change. You strolled beside your sister, the sun still warm against your skin despite the cooling breeze.

Your sister, on the other hand, was in her element, scanning the shop windows with a sharp eye. She had already bought three dresses, a pair of sandals, and some accessories, yet she showed no signs of slowing down. You, on the other hand, had only picked up a couple of things—a flowy linen top and a bracelet you grabbed at the last minute just to avoid looking completely uninterested.

It wasn’t until she pulled you into another boutique that she finally took a good look at you, her gaze narrowing slightly before her lips curled into a smirk.

“Are those—” She leaned in, squinting at the side of your neck.

You didn’t need to follow her gaze to know what she had spotted. The heat of embarrassment crept up your spine as you instinctively raised a hand to cover it. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” she echoed, raising a brow. “You’ve been back for a few hours, and I just now notice these? Damn. Whoever he was, he was thorough.”

You groaned, swatting at her arm, but she only laughed, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“It’s temporary, so is he,” you muttered, stepping away and flipping through a rack of dresses just to avoid looking at her. “Won’t happen again.”

She hummed, unconvinced. “Sure.”

You ignored her, pretending to be very interested in a dress you weren’t even planning to buy. But you could feel her watching you, that knowing amusement still on her face. By the time you returned to your hotel, the sky had started to darken. Shopping bags filled the bed, most of them your sister’s.

“I can’t believe this is all you got.” She glanced at the two small bags you placed on the nightstand.

“I didn’t need anything else,” you shrugged.

“Well, I need a drink,” she said, stretching her arms over her head. “I’m going out.”

You blinked. “You are?”

“What, did you think I came to Mykonos just for work?” She shot you a grin. “There’s life outside business, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was something oddly reassuring about seeing her loosen up.

“Don’t wait up,” she added, slipping into the bathroom to freshen up.

You didn’t. You went straight to sleep after a quick shower. It surprised you how quickly you were knocked out, realizing it only when you woke up to the blinding sunshine pouring into your suite. You pushed yourself up, blinking at the unfamiliar room.

Right, Mykonos. You keep forgetting that.

After washing your face and changing out of your pajamas, you ordered room service and then plopped onto the balcony table. You’d seen it every day for the last four days, but the scenery before you never failed to take your breath away. So serene and beautiful.

Breakfast soon arrived and some hotel staff set the table for you. You didn’t realize how much you missed hearing familiar voices until the FaceTime call connected and Karina’s face appeared on screen.

“Oh my god, finally!” she exclaimed, before turning to Giselle and Ningning, who were squeezed into the frame. “She’s alive!”

“Barely,” you muttered, propping the phone against the pitcher so you could use your hands to eat.

“Long face? I thought you’re supposed to be having the time of your life there?” Giselle teased.

You huffed. “Yeah, well. Guess who’s here?”

The three of them waited, and when you didn’t immediately answer, Ningning’s eyes widened. “No way. Jeno?”

“What? No,” you scoffed. “Worse. Donghyuck.”

All three of them gawked at you through the screen. Karina choked on whatever she had been drinking, Giselle let out a laugh of disbelief, and Ningning practically gasped.

“You’re joking.”

“I wish.”

“You mean the Lee Donghyuck we know? The same one who—” Giselle trailed off, exchanging looks with the others. “—could barely afford a proper meal back in freshman year?”

“That’s the one,” you confirmed.

“And he’s vacationing in Greece?” Karina asked, still looking skeptical.

“I know, right?” you exhaled, shaking your head.

Giselle narrowed her eyes at you through the screen. “Did he scam someone? Win the lottery? Make a deal with the devil?”

“I was thinking sugar mama,” Ningning deadpanned.

That actually made you laugh, though the question had been lingering in your own mind as well. Donghyuck in Mykonos of all places. In a luxury suite. Wearing designer sunglasses like they were disposable. None of it made sense. And yet, here you were.

“I have no clue how he could afford it, but he’s here. And, uh… something else happened, too.” The three of them leaned in, sensing the shift in your tone.

“What is it?” Karina pressed.

You hesitated, biting your lip and poking at your food for a second. Then, deciding to rip the band-aid off, you said, “I slept with him.”

Dead silence. Then—

“WHAT?!” The collective scream nearly blew your eardrums out. You winced, backing away slightly as their voices erupted all at once.

“When?!” Karina demanded.

“How?!” Giselle’s eyes were impossibly wide.

“WHY?!” Ningning practically shrieked.

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, it had better be,” Ningning exclaimed, still looking utterly baffled. “Lee Donghyuck in Mykonos, and you having sex with him? That’s a wild turn of events, babe.”

“Wait, so let me get this straight,” Karina said, narrowing her eyes. “You—who literally hates his guts—somehow ended up in bed with him?”

You frowned. “I don’t hate him.”

“Babe,” Ningning scoffed. “You called him a menace to society at least once a week.”

“Look, I know it sounds insane, okay? But it just happened,” you said, sighing.

“Just happened?” Giselle echoed, eyes sharp. “Like you tripped and fell on his dick?”

“No, but, basically,” you muttered. Giselle burst into laughter, while Ningning covered her mouth in sheer disbelief.

“Oh my god,” Karina muttered, rubbing her forehead. “You actually slept with Lee Donghyuck?”

You sighed again. “Yeah. I told you. I did.”

“But why?” she demanded. “Since when did you even look at him like that?”

Giselle snorted. “Guess all his efforts to sweep her off her feet finally paid off. Talk about tenacity.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing,” said Karina, glancing at your other friends. “I thought the whole flirting thing wasn’t serious. Like he’s just doing it to annoy you.”

Before they could bombard you with more questions, a sudden knock at the door made you glance up. You barely registered the sound, assuming it was your sister who had spent the night outside and was finally returning.

“Hold on, I think my sister’s back,” you mumbled, striding across the room to open the door.

But when you swung the door open, it wasn’t your sister standing there. It was Donghyuck. He had a bouquet of fresh, colorful flowers in his hand and that signature smirk playing on his lips. For a second, your brain short-circuited.

Ningning’s voice echoed through the speaker, “Babe, where are you?”

You met Donghyuck’s gaze, his eyes full of mischief, and his posture relaxed like he had all the time in the world. Without a word, you ran back to the balcony to hang up the call.

“Good morning,” Donghyuck greeted, following you into the suite without waiting for permission.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, shutting the door behind him.

He turned to face you, holding up the bouquet like it explained everything. “Brought you flowers.”

You crossed your arms. “Why?”

He blinked. “Because girls love flowers?”

Your deadpan stare did nothing to shake his confidence. Instead, he took a slow step forward, lowering his voice just slightly. “And because I figured showing up empty-handed might not work in my favor after yesterday.”

You eyed him suspiciously, ignoring the way your heart picked up its pace. “You think flowers are gonna help your case?”

Donghyuck grinned, setting them down on the table. “Nah, but they might get me in the door. And look, I’m already inside.”

You rolled your eyes. “Unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably charming,” he corrected, tilting his head. “Come on, princess. Would it kill you to say thank you?”

You exhaled sharply, but despite yourself, a tiny smirk threatened to tug at your lips. “Depends. What exactly are you here for?”

Donghyuck’s smirk deepened as he stepped closer. “Would you believe me if I said I just missed you?”

You deadpanned so he stepped back and laughed. “Of course, you won’t. Okay. Here’s the thing…”

He picked up the flowers again and handed it to you. “I’m sorry if my actions offended you. I’ve thought about it, and I realized how that may have sounded. But I, genuinely, didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything. I really just wanted to take you out and show you around.”

You hesitated, your arms still crossed, your eyes narrowing as you studied him. Donghyuck’s confident smile wavered slightly, but he kept his ground, watching you with eyes of hope and impatience.

“Come on, princess. I’m trying here,” he said, voice light but with an underlying sincerity that made you pause.

The silence stretched between you, and you bit your lip, internally fighting the urge to cave. But despite your annoyance, you couldn’t deny that this may be unnecessary.

“Fine,” you muttered finally, uncrossing your arms. “I’ll admit, I might’ve... overreacted a bit.”

Donghyuck’s expression softened just slightly, though his grin still held that mischievous spark. He took a small step forward. “Not at all, I totally get it. We could’ve just talked about it properly, though. No harm in a little open communication, you see.”

“I know,” you pouted, looking away and crossing your arms again. “I accept your apology. Let’s get over it.”

“Fine with me,” he said, stretching the flowers toward you.

You took them and walked toward the patio table, where you carefully removed the old flowers from the vase to replace them. While you were busy with that, your mind replayed the events of the morning. The rawness of what happened between you two was still fresh, and it hit you all over again with a familiar heat prickling your skin—pleasant, euphoric.

Then came the familiar stubbornness that had fueled your earlier outburst. It was probably because you told yourself, over and over, it would never, ever happen. You would never, ever get too close to Lee Donghyuck, let alone sleep with him. But here you were, caught in his charming smile and flamboyant personality.

You felt his warmth behind you, followed by his arms wrapping around you. He kissed your cheek and took a peek at your face. “Wanna go to the beach with me? Today’s weather is very lovely.”

“Hmm?” he prompted when you didn’t respond.

You took a deep breath and sighed, turning to face him. His arms stayed wrapped around you as you reached up to his shoulder, patting down his shirt. Donghyuck’s expression faltered slightly, but before he could say anything, you pulled him toward you, closing the space and kissing him slowly and deeply, an apology of sorts.

When you finally pulled away, he let out a soft chuckle, his hands resting at your waist. “Good. Now we’re on the same page.”

Donghyuck scooped you up in one smooth motion, lifting you off your feet effortlessly. You gasped in surprise, but then he kissed you again, his lips soft but insistent.

Pulling back just enough to look at you, he said, “By the way, how would you like to join me in a swanky party full of pretentious rich people tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow, reminded of the yacht party you went to last time. “No.”

He chuckled, that cocky grin back in full force. “It’s a decent one, this time. Just downstairs. Boring, and slow, but with good alcohol. No drugs or naked people making out beside you.”

You gave it a good thought. “Can I still say no?”

“Of course you can, princess. But if it helps you make a decision, you should know I’d be glad if you joined me.”

“Well,” you said, your smirk widening as you placed your hands on his chest, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

He set you back down to your feet. “Alright. I’ll have a dress sent up for you.”

“No, it’s okay. I brought dresses.”

Donghyuck deadpanned. “Can’t I just send you a dress, princess? It’s not a payment and I won’t get you something too expensive, so can I just do that?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Why? Are you scared that I’d go there in an ugly dress?”

He laughed mockingly. “First of all, you’d look great even in a garbage bag, so it’s impossible for that to happen. Second, I really just wanna do this for you, princess.”

You grimaced. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“What? Princess?” he asked, chuckling when you nodded with a pout. “Because I want to. It suits you.”

“Whatever,” you huffed, turning to the closet. “Just take me to the beach.”

Came nightfall, Donghyuck arrived to pick you up, grinning at the sight of you in the red dress he had sent up a few hours ago. He was proud of himself too for getting your measurements right without asking you beforehand.

“I touched you thoroughly to know your exact size,” he said, eyes fixed on your busts.

You shoved your purse in his face. “Do you ever stop thinking gross thoughts, Lee Donghyuck?”

Laughing, Donghyuck took your hand from his face and intertwined it with his. “It’s not gross, love. It’s sexy.”

You took the stairs down, walking from your suite to the hotel’s grand ballroom where the ball is being held. The moon was bright up in the sky, adding to the warm glow of the lampposts around you and making your surroundings more majestic. You glanced sideways at Donghyuck, who was quietly leading you down the stairs with your hand on his arm.

“What are you doing here, Hyuck?”

He glanced at you briefly. “I’m here to take you to a ball.”

“No, I mean, here here. In Mykonos. With a nice suite, getting invited to these luxurious parties, and knowing all these people. What’s the deal?” you asked, genuinely curious. “I mean, back at campus, I was under the impression that you were… homeless,” you added, feeling sheepish all of a sudden.

Donghyuck blinked at you, a bit confused. “What do you mean?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’ve seen you mooch off of Mark Lee. Generous guy, letting you crash in his apartment and all. I just figured—”

Donghyuck burst into laughter, the sound carefree and light. “Homeless and mooching off Mark Lee? That’s hilarious.” He shook his head, still grinning. “You’re not wrong about the mooching part, though.”

“So you’re not homeless?” you teased, but he just waved you off.

“Nah, I just didn’t bother getting myself a flat. Too much work,” he said, shaking his head. “Mark and I are cousins so he doesn’t mind. Except now that he has a girlfriend. Suddenly, he wants his space,” he added, casually dropping the bombshell.

You stopped walking, blinking up at him in disbelief. “Wait, what? You and Mark are cousins?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Yeah. We literally have the same last name.”

You stared at him for a second, still processing the fact that Donghyuck, the carefree guy who seemed to drift through life, was related to Mark Lee, the campus’s ‘smart boy’ and all-around golden child.

“Well then, sue me for having common sense and thinking that not everyone with the same last name is related,” you muttered, recovering from the shock.

Donghyuck smirked, as if he’d expected that. “Obviously, not everyone is. But Mark and I are.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Right? It would be funny if you were related to every Lee out there. I mean, that would be a big ass family.”

Donghyuck just watched you, his fond smile never faltering.

Then, you suddenly added, “Imagine if you were related to Lee Taeyong. Now that’s something.”

“Lee Taeyong?” Donghyuck repeated, sounding slightly confused.

“Yeah. He’s the CEO of some company, I forgot which one. My sister’s here to close a business deal with him or something,” you explained, glancing sideways at him. “He’s really cool. And very handsome too.”

Donghyuck hummed, not looking particularly impressed. “I’m sure he is.”

You leaned in, a little more adamant now, “He really is. I thought he’d be some boring middle-aged CEO guy, but he’s into F1 and even makes music. Speaks a lot of languages too. The guy’s a legit Renaissance man.”

Donghyuck’s smirk widened, amused by your expressions. “Yeah, but he hasn’t done any of that in the past year, so he’s pretty stagnant.”

“What?” you blurted, completely caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Donghyuck looked at you with a slight shrug. “He’s been buried in work lately, so he’s gotten a little rusty. Not exactly the Renaissance man you’re picturing.”

You stared at him, trying to make sense of it. Your mouth opened as the realization slowly crept in. “No way.”

Donghyuck didn’t even flinch at your reaction. He just shrugged again, the same casual indifference written all over his face.

“Are you and Lee Taeyong—”

Before you could finish your question, you found yourselves standing at the grand entrance to the ballroom, the sound of the party flooding your ears. The grand chandelier above sparkled as guests drifted in and out of the ornate space. Donghyuck grinned at you, clearly enjoying the way the evening had been unfolding.

“Well, here we are,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Ready to meet the ‘pretentious rich people’?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. “I guess.”

He nudged you playfully, his arm brushing against yours as you both entered the ballroom. “Don’t worry, princess. It’ll be a night to remember.”

As you stepped into the ballroom, you took in the sophisticated air around you. People were conversing in groups, champagne glasses were clinking, all while a soft symphony played in the background. The guests, dressed in designer suits and elegant gowns, moved about with an effortless grace that made it clear they belonged there.

You turned to Donghyuck, ready to make some remark about how this was far from the kind of scene you pictured him thriving in, but before you could, a familiar voice called out from across the room.

“There you are,” your sister called out, making her way over. She gave you a quick once-over and complimented you before turning to Donghyuck. “You must be Lee Donghyuck.”

“I am. Nice to meet you,” Donghyuck replied, shaking hands with your sister.

“Nice to meet you too,” your sister chimed. “I’ll leave her in your care tonight, okay?”

Before Donghyuck could reply, another voice joined in.

“Haechan.” You looked up just in time to see none other than Lee Taeyong approaching. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, the kind tailored to perfection, exuding the confidence of someone who owned the room without needing to announce it.

Donghyuck, in contrast, had his hands casually tucked in his pockets, his ever-present smirk still in place.

“Hyung,” Donghyuck greeted, the term slipping out effortlessly as he extended a hand. But instead of shaking it, Taeyong pulled him into a brief but firm hug before stepping back.

Your brows shot up. Hyung?

“How are you finding Mykonos so far?” Taeyong asked, studying Donghyuck with a knowing look.

Donghyuck grinned. “Having fun, obviously. Thanks for bringing me along.”

Your sister looked mildly surprised by the exchange, glancing at you inquiringly but you were confused too so you just shrugged.

Taeyong nodded. “Good. Thought you could use a little vacation.”

“You’re too generous, really,” Donghyuck said with mock sincerity, pressing a hand to his chest. “It’s almost touching.”

Taeyong rolled his eyes but didn’t bother responding to that. Instead, his gaze flickered to you. “Good to see you again. I hope you enjoy the evening.”

You decided that you’d be the one to ask the question. “Okay, so I’m missing something here. You two know each other?”

Donghyuck shrugged. “You could say that.”

Taeyong sighed, deciding to be the one to fill in the blanks. “I’m Haechan’s brother.” That piece of information landed like a bomb in your brain. Then he turned to your sister and said, “Shall we?”

You watched them walk further into the party, leaving you and Donghyuck by the entrance. When they were finally out of earshot, you turned to Donghyuck, arms crossed. “Brother?”

Donghyuck chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “I did tell you Mark and I are cousins. Guess I forgot to mention that that guy there is my older brother.”

Your mouth opened, then closed. “You—what—” You turned to Taeyong in disbelief, watching them mingle with the crowd. “He’s your brother?”

You turned back to Donghyuck, trying to make sense of it. “You’re telling me you’re actually rich rich?”

Donghyuck snorted. “Define rich rich.”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “This is giving me a headache.”

The entire time you’d known Donghyuck, you had never—not once—gotten the impression that he came from money. Sure, he was charming enough to talk his way into any situation, but you had always assumed he was just a broke, freeloading menace who somehow managed to land on his feet every time. Now, standing here, you were suddenly realizing that maybe you’d been playing a completely different game than you thought.

Donghyuck, ever the picture of unbothered confidence, just shot you a wink. “Come on. I’m here to work.”

For the next hour, you played the role of an observer, sipping champagne and watching Donghyuck—Haechan, as these people called him—navigate the room like it was second nature. He charmed investors, shook hands with CEOs, and exchanged pleasantries with people whose last names probably meant something in this world. But you noticed the slight tension in his smile, the glint of something close to boredom in his eyes when he thought no one was looking.

Not you, though. You were looking. Every now and then, he would lean toward you, his voice dropping just low enough for only you to hear.

“This guy’s been talking about stocks for ten minutes straight. Please put me out of my misery.”

“I swear on my life, the dude in the navy suit just namedropped Elon Musk in an actual conversation. Do you see what I deal with?”

Despite his grumbling, Donghyuck handled it all flawlessly. A smooth word here, a perfectly timed joke there. He knew exactly when to nod, when to feign interest, when to switch gears and talk about things they wanted to hear. It was effortless. But you saw it for what it was, a performance.

So when it looked like there was no one else for him to greet and he turned to you with that familiar gleam in his eye, you already knew what was coming. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmured, fingers grazing your wrist.

You didn’t hesitate. He intertwined his fingers through yours and pulled you away from the glittering ballroom, slipping past guests and ducking into the night.

The warm Mykonos air wrapped around you as you ran, your laughter echoing in your wake as if you were kids sneaking out past curfew. The party faded behind you, replaced by the gentle sound of waves meeting the shore.

By the time you reached the beach, you were breathless, giddy. Kicking off your shoes, you felt the cool, damp sand under your feet, the hem of your dress brushing against it as you twirled around, feeling lighter than you had all night. Donghyuck caught you mid-spin, pulling you against him. His arms snaked around your waist, his warm breath fanning your cheek.

“You looked good in there,” he murmured, his lips pressing on your cheek. “But you look so much better out here.”

You tilted your head, smirking. “Again with your lines.”

“Aw man, is it not working?” He stole a kiss, slow and teasing, before pulling away just as you started to chase after him.

It turned into a game—kisses stolen between laughter, between whispered jokes, between grains of sand sticking to your skin. At some point, you reached the dock, the wooden planks cool under your bare feet. Small yachts and sailboats swayed gently with the waves, their white decks gleaming under the moonlight.

Donghyuck stopped in front of a particular sailboat, glancing at you with a raised brow. “Ever been on one of these?”

You shook your head, making him grin. “Then let me be your first.”

Offering his hand, he helped you step aboard, steadying you as you found your footing. The boat rocked slightly, the sea stretching wide and endless around you.

“Is this yours?” you asked, not even second-guessing yourself now. He was wealthy, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if he owned a boat or two.

“It’s my dad’s. He gave it to me but I haven’t used it much because I don’t know how to.”

“He didn’t teach you?” you questioned out of genuine curiosity, only to realize that it might hit a nerve.

“Businessman fathers don’t have time to teach, princess,” he replied, chuckling as he crouched in front of what appeared to be a console under the helm. He fished a key from his coat pocket and fiddled with the controls. A few seconds later, the sailboat engine started roaring. “There we go.”

“Are we going somewhere?” you asked, joining him there.

“Not too far. Just getting some privacy,” he replied, grinning. You narrowed your eyes playfully at him.

“I can see your ulterior motives very clearly, Hyuck.”

Oddly enough, Donghyuck didn’t try anything funny. He sailed the boat a few meters from the dock, anchoring just far enough to give you both some privacy. From where you stood, you could get a panoramic view of the iconic landscape before you, glittering and glowing under the night sky.

Donghyuck joined you at the bow, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you gently so you were face-to-face with him.

“Now, tell me, princess,” he asked, tilting his head. “Are you falling for me yet?”

You let out a soft laugh, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Donghyuck, this is not a romance.”

He shrugged. “You’re right,” he replied, grinning. “No love stories here.”

You both laughed, the sound carrying over the quiet waves. Then he added. “But you gotta admit, it’s quite romantic up here, no?”

You giggled. “Fine. It is.” And just like that, under the watchful moon, he kissed you again.

“I have a bed inside,” he whispered in your ear, his warm breath and the suggestion tickling your skin.

“You know, this would be more romantic if you could just calm your dick for once,” you teased, letting him kiss your neck.

He led you inside the cabin. It was small, dimly lit by the warm glow of a lantern hanging from the ceiling. The rocking of the sailboat beneath you made everything feel untethered, like the night itself was swaying. You barely made it inside before Donghyuck’s lips were on yours again in a slow and indulgent kiss.

Your hands fumbled at each other, stripping away layers of clothing with breathless laughter. When the last of your clothes hit the floor, Donghyuck reached for his bag at the edge of the bed.

“I brought something you might find interesting,” he chimed. He held up a small tin case, popping it open with a flick of his fingers. Inside, a row of round, pastel-colored pills sat neatly in place.

You knew exactly what they were. The same ones Luca and his friends had been passing around on the yacht a few nights ago. You had been curious then, idly wondering what it would feel like, how it would taste, how it would change things.

Donghyuck held out a pill between his fingers, watching you carefully. “You still wanna try?”

You hesitated for a second. Not out of fear, but because there was something exhilarating in knowing you were about to cross another line with him. But you trusted him. So you took it from his palm and placed it on your tongue.

He did the same, popping his own pill before cupping your face and kissing you deeply.

The effects crept in slowly, like warm water rising over your skin. At first, it was just a buzz beneath your flesh, a whisper in your nerves. But then it spread, warm and glowing, turning every breath into liquid gold.

The world seemed to slow down. Donghyuck’s lips traced over your jaw, your neck, down to your belly and it felt like his mouth was leaving heat trails in his wake, until he stopped between your legs. He pried your thighs open, holding them down as he buried his nose against your sex. And when he started using his mouth, every nerve in your body bloomed under his touch. The sheets under you were impossibly soft, while the dim lantern light cast shadows that stretched and warped like living things.

You whimpered and writhed, pleasure taking over your entire being. Your hands were numb, but they were gripping his hair tightly, tugging him forward and bucking your hips against his face as desperation took control of your senses.

And when your orgasm erupted, you let out a throaty moan, back arching and mouth gaping. Donghyuck appeared in your line of sight. His pupils were blown wide, dark, and endless, his lips parted just slightly. He looked at you like he was seeing something divine.

“This must be heaven,” he whispered, his voice drenched in honey, in heat.

“No, Hyuck.” Your fingers traced his collarbone, slow and lazy. “This is so much better.”

He grinned, a little dazed, a little drunk on you. “Totally,” he replied, laughter spilling between you as his lips found yours again.

And then everything unraveled slowly, beautifully, like waves rolling in and out. Every touch electrified your skin, every sigh stretched into infinity. You melted into him, into the warmth, into the way the night folded around you like a secret meant only for the two of you. Nothing else existed. Just this. Just him. Just the soft, glowing haze of pleasure that refused to end.

The afternoon light filtered in through the small cabin window, golden and hazy. You stirred awake, your body feeling warm, and weightless, like you were still caught somewhere between dreaming and waking. A slow breath, a stretch, and then the world registered clearly into view.

It was morning and you were still in the boat. Your phone was dead, its screen stubbornly black when you tried pressing the power button. With a groggy sigh, you pushed yourself upright, the sheets pooling around your waist. Donghyuck was nowhere to be seen.

That was when you felt the slow and rhythmic sway underneath you, different from the night before. The boat was moving. Frowning, you climbed out of bed, slipping on whatever clothes you could find before stepping out onto the deck.

Donghyuck stood at the helm, one hand lazily gripping the wheel as he guided the sailboat back toward the docks. The breeze ruffled his hair, the sunlight catching on his skin, making him look almost too picturesque for someone who was probably winging this whole thing. He must have heard your footsteps because he glanced over his shoulder and smirked.

“Look who finally decided to rejoin the living.”

You squinted against the light. “What time is it?”

“Noon,” he said, voice amused. “Figured I’d let you sleep. You looked like you needed it.”

You stretched with a groan before eyeing him suspiciously. “How about you?”

He shrugged. “Had to get us back to shore somehow.”

You sighed, leaning against the railing as you watched the island come into view. “My phone’s dead.”

“That’s probably a good thing,” he quipped. “Forces you to live in the moment.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could reply, he reached for your waist, pulling you into him with ease. The kiss he pressed to your lips was slow and sweet. When he pulled back, he looked a little too satisfied with himself.

“You always do that,” you muttered.

“What?” he grinned. “Kiss you? Or cut you off when you’re talking? Either way, I’m not sorry.”

You shoved at his shoulder, and he just laughed, turning back to the wheel.

“By the way,” he said, adjusting the course slightly, “I ordered room service in my suite. Figured you’d be hungry after last night.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at the water around you. “What, no fresh catch?”

Donghyuck snorted. “If I could fish too, I’d be entirely too perfect for this world. That’s not fair to other people.”

You shook your head. “Right, because you’re just so amazing and talented, aren’t you, Lee Donghyuck?”

“Exactly,” he said, flashing you a wink.

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling as the boat drifted closer to shore. You spotted a few handful of people standing on your spot at the docks. Squinting helped you recognize that one of them was your sister.

The moment your feet hit the dock, you knew you were in trouble. Your sister stood a few steps away, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her sharp gaze locking onto you the second she spotted you. Next to her, Taeyong looked slightly more composed, but the tension in his posture made it clear that you were both in trouble.

Donghyuck exhaled beside you. “Okay, what’s going on?”

You barely had time to react before your sister stormed up to you.

“Are you serious?” she snapped. “Your phone’s been dead for hours, you didn’t text me last night, and I had to find out from him—” she gestured toward Taeyong, “—that you weren’t missing, just being reckless?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but she wasn’t done. “Do you know how worried I was? I thought something happened to you!”

“I’m fine,” you assured her quickly, hands raised in surrender. “I just—”

“Just disappeared without a word and left me to assume the worst?”

Okay, yeah. When she put it like that, it did sound bad. You glanced at Taeyong, who gave you a look that read as both unimpressed and relieved.

Donghyuck, on the other hand, had his hands shoved into his pockets, looking every bit the picture of someone who’d been through enough lectures in his life to know when to just take it. But your sister wasn’t about to let him off so easily.

“And you,” she turned on him now, eyes narrowing. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Donghyuck blinked. “In my defense, I did nothing wrong.”

“Nothing wrong? You took my sister out to god knows where without telling anyone—”

“She’s an adult,” Donghyuck pointed out, his tone almost amused. “She can make her own choices.”

“She also doesn’t think before she acts sometimes,” your sister shot back, exasperated.

You scoffed. “Hey.”

“She’s right,” Taeyong added mildly, looking at Donghyuck. “You could’ve at least made sure to let her know where you took her sister.”

You winced at your sister. “Okay, I was gonna text you, but my phone was dead.”

Your sister wasn’t impressed. “And you didn’t think to borrow one?”

Donghyuck nudged you. “That is a good point.”

You shot him a glare. “Not helping.”

His lips twitched like he was fighting back a laugh. Your sister exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple. “Look, I won’t tell you what you can and cannot do, okay? But please don’t disappear on me like that again.”

“I won’t,” you promised. “It won’t happen again. I’ll let you know next time.”

She huffed but seemed to relax slightly, the anger giving way to lingering concern. “Good.” Then, with one last glance between you and Donghyuck, she muttered, “You guys are unbelievable,” before turning away.

Taeyong stayed a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Tto Donghyuck, he said, “Try not to cause too much trouble.”

Donghyuck’s grin was mischievous. “Can’t make any promises.”

Taeyong just sighed, shaking his head as he followed after your sister.

Once they were out of earshot, Donghyuck let out a low whistle. “That went better than expected.”

You gave him a deadpan look. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t say that. Your sister was right. I’m just glad I didn’t get banned from seeing you,” he said, wiggling his brows. “I’d call that a win.”

You rolled your eyes, but when he threw an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in with a lazy smirk, you let him. “Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

Mykonos swallowed you whole, pulled you under its spell, and refused to let go. Days bled into nights in a whirlwind of reckless and wild indulgence. It was the kind of summer you knew you’d never be able to recreate anywhere else.

You and Donghyuck did anything and everything. You spent hours tangled in hotel sheets, barely surfacing for air between kisses and tangled limbs. When you weren’t in bed, you found other places—a quiet corner in an art gallery where he pressed you against the wall, his lips trailing along your jaw as you struggled to keep your composure; the backseat of a borrowed car where you climbed onto his lap, his hand gripping your waist as you moved with urgency in a cramped space.

Some mornings started late, sunlight spilling through hotel curtains onto bare legs, skin still sticky with the aftermath of the night before. Other mornings started early—too early—because Donghyuck was shaking you awake, grinning like a devil as he pulled you out of bed for some ridiculous adventure.

One morning, you found yourself on the back of a rented scooter, clinging to him as he sped through Mykonos Town’s narrow, winding streets. He took sharp turns without warning, nearly tipping you both over more than once, but all you could do was shriek and laugh, your arms tightening around his waist. When he skidded to a stop near a cliffside just to “appreciate the view,” you smacked his arm, finding it not worth the danger.

Afternoons were spent stretched out on the warm sand of a private beach, the waves lapping at your toes while Donghyuck traced lazy circles on your thigh. Your sister and Taeyong sat under the shade of an umbrella, deep in discussion over numbers and contracts, completely oblivious to you and Donghyuck sneaking off into the water.

“You two are like teenagers,” your sister muttered when you returned, wet and glowing, Donghyuck shamelessly draping himself over you.

You just grinned, stealing his sunglasses and perching them on your nose. “Isn’t that the point?”

Summers in Mykonos meant rich kids and yacht parties. At another yacht party, this one even wilder than the last, you drank expensive champagne straight from the bottle, your bodies slick with sweat as you danced under the flashing neon lights. Donghyuck was in his element, standing at the center of it, laughing, dancing, getting shots poured straight into his mouth by some rich kid who looked equally as wasted.

You had no idea whose yacht it was, just that it was another friend of Donghyuck’s. He pulled you close, murmuring into your ear that you were the best thing about this entire trip.

“You keep up with me so well,” he mused at one point. “I’m impressed.”

You rolled your eyes but hooked a finger into his collar, pulling him closer. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

It was a blur after that—dizzy kisses, greedy hands, laughter and giggles against skin. You ended up in one of the lower cabins, skin-to-skin, lost in the high of it all.

Some nights were quieter, but no less intoxicating.

Like the time he dared you to break into a private infinity pool perched on the cliffs. You stripped down to your underwear, slipping into the cool water, laughing when Donghyuck cannonballed after you. He then swam behind you, pressing his chest on your back and undoing your bikini top.

“You know this is illegal, right?” you whispered, the stars reflected in his dark eyes.

“Only if we get caught,” he grinned, lips brushing your bare shoulder.

Later, you lay side by side on the pool’s edge, toes skimming the water, shoulders brushing. Donghyuck turned his head, watching you in the moonlight.

“You’re a bad girl,” he said softly, teasing.

You smirked, not looking away from the stars. “Oh, yeah? Well, you’re obsessed with this bad girl.”

And he was. You could feel it in the way he kissed you, touched you, and looked at you like this summer was something he never wanted to end.

“This isn’t a romance,” you muttered, because it was easier to say it before he could.

Donghyuck huffed out a laugh, tilting his head toward you. “You beat me to it by two seconds.”

It was an inside joke now—one you repeated like a charm to ward off whatever this was turning into.

But you didn’t have to talk about relationships and statuses. You just kept moving, kept laughing, kept reaching for each other in the dark. You lived recklessly, selfishly, like the world outside this island didn’t exist. And maybe it wouldn’t last. Maybe it wasn’t meant to. But in Mykonos, under the heat of the sun and the glow of the city’s endless nights, it was everything.

Day 9 in Mykonos. The sky was so clear that the stars felt within reach. You lay on the sand, legs stretched out, and Donghyuck was right there beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth emanating from him.

You swapped stories, sharing bits of your past that never seemed important enough to bring up before. Stupid childhood memories, embarrassing moments, harmless secrets. You told him about the time you and your friends snuck into a Rated-18 adult bookstore and almost got caught. He told you about the time he got kicked out of a club for pretending to be a celebrity’s cousin.

At some point, you turned to him, the sky reflecting in his dark eyes. “Why do people call you Haechan?”

His smirk faltered, just for a second. You didn’t expect him to answer so seriously, but when he did, his voice was quiet and soft.

“My parents weren’t married when they had me,” he admitted. “My mom was my dad’s mistress longer than she was his wife. For most of my life, I was just Donghyuck. But when my father finally decided to introduce me to society as a member of the family, they gave me a new name. Haechan.”

You stared at him, suddenly feeling like you were seeing him differently. Donghyuck, who belonged so easily in every room, every crowd, every moment, had spent years being someone who didn’t belong anywhere.

You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing. And maybe that silence opened something up in him because then he exhaled and said, “And I’ve known you longer than you think.”

You frowned. “What?”

His lips pressed together in a small, almost nervous smile. “There was an international high school science event,” he said. “I was a delegate. I was having a shitty time—family stuff. I snuck off somewhere quiet and… I don’t know, I just sat there, trying to pull myself together. Then you walked up. You didn’t say anything, just handed me your handkerchief, patted my back, and walked away.”

For a moment, you just stared at him. Then, you let out a small laugh. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“That doesn’t even sound like me.”

“You were nice,” he said with a small shrug. “At least for a second.”

You rolled your eyes, but something about it was so absurd that you almost laughed again. You tried to reach back for the memory, but it was hazy—just a vague recollection of an unfamiliar boy hunched over in some dimly lit hallway, his face buried in his hands.

It had meant nothing to you. But apparently, it had meant something to him. It was funny. Until it wasn’t. Because then, Donghyuck looked at you, really looked at you, and said, “I’ve been in love with you since that day.”

Your stomach dropped, and suddenly, the world didn’t feel so light anymore.

“No,” you said, almost instinctively.

“No?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“You can’t say shit like that,” you muttered, sitting up, wrapping your arms around your knees.

“Why not?

You chuckled nervously. “What if you’re wrong? What if that girl wasn’t me? I don’t even remember that.”

“I knew it was you. I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.”

“No, Hyuck,” you insisted, shaking your head. “You can’t do this. Don’t do this. Don’t ruin this.”

Donghyuck scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Ruin what?”

“This,” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “Whatever this is.”

“What is this then?”

“Nothing!” you snapped.

His jaw clenched, something flashing in his eyes—hurt? Anger, maybe?

“Nothing?” Donghyuck scoffed, sitting up now. He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “So what? We just hang out, we fuck, and that’s it? After this, we go back home and pretend none of this ever happened?”

“Yes.” The word came out harsher than you intended.

Donghyuck stared at you, waiting for you to take it back, waiting for anything. You didn’t.

“You don’t love me,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.

You hesitated. That was enough of an answer. Donghyuck exhaled, shaking his head. “You can’t even say it, can you?”

You took a breath. “I can’t. I can’t love you.”

His lips parted slightly, but whatever he wanted to say, he swallowed it back. He nodded once, like he had just come to a decision. Then, without another word, he got up and walked away. And you let him.

In the morning, everything would go back to normal. He’d come around after you’d both pushed this conversation past you.

But he didn’t. You sat in your suite all day, waiting, wondering, hoping. You kept waiting for him to show up—cracking jokes, finding excuses to touch you, dragging you into whatever trouble he had planned for the day. But he never did.

You debated going to see him, making up excuses to go there. You’d basically been living there all week. You had some of your stuff up there too. But try as you might, you couldn’t bring yourself to lower your pride and seek him out first.

At some point, you found yourself at a lounge bar, trying to distract yourself with a drink, and trying not to check your phone even though you knew there was nothing to check. That was when you spotted Taeyong, tucked in a booth scrolling through a tablet, looking every bit the serious businessman.

You walked over. “Hey.”

He looked up, taking a second too long to study your face. “Hey. You look…” He trailed off, like he wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said. “Just… needed a drink.”

Taeyong didn’t look convinced, but he let it slide. “You looking for Haechan?”

You were hoping he’d ask you that. But now that he did, you realized just how badly you wanted to see him. “I was actually wondering where he is,” you admitted.

He exhaled through his nose, tapping his fingers against the table. “There’s a cocktail party downstairs and he was invited. I’m not sure if he went.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an invitation. “Here, why don’t you go check? This was for me, but I feel like you’d enjoy it more than I will.”

You took the card, hope suddenly filling up your heart. “Thanks.”

As you turned to leave, Taeyong spoke again, his voice softer this time. “I like you. You’re good for our Donghyuck.”

You glanced back, caught off guard. He wasn’t even looking at you anymore, just swirling his drink like it was a passing thought, but there was warmth in his eyes. In the past few days that you were here, this was the first time you heard him use the name Donghyuck instead of Haechan.

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you didn’t. You just nodded and left.

Back in your room, you got ready, but the whole time, your thoughts wouldn’t shut up. You changed into a dress, one you knew he’d like, one you knew you looked good in. You fixed your hair, added a little makeup, anything to make yourself feel more confident. More beautiful.

And then, right on cue, doubt kicked in. You stared at your reflection, almost accusingly. “What am I doing?”

Dressing up for him and trying to impress him after you told him to leave you alone? You had to be out of your mind.

You should’ve stopped there. You should’ve wiped off the makeup, taken off the dress, and stayed in. But despite all the warnings in your head, your feet carried you to the door.

The hallway felt longer than usual as you made your way downstairs, heart pounding wildly. The party wasn’t huge, but it was packed with people around your age, though they weren’t like you. They were effortlessly glamorous, effortlessly rich.

You scanned the room, hoping he was there. And he was. Donghyuck stood near the bar, deep in conversation with a group of people. Your pulse quickened as you walked toward him. But the closer you got, the clearer it became. Something was off.

“Hyuck,” you called softly.

When he turned, his eyes met yours, and for the first time since you’d met him, they weren’t warm. There was no teasing smile, no playful glint. Just cool detachment, like he was looking right through you.

You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything, he turned back to his friends, as if you weren’t even there.

You hesitated. Tried again. “Hey,” you said, forcing some lightness into your tone. “I see you’re having fun.”

He didn’t even glance at you. Just shrugged. “Yeah. Can I help you?”

His tone was sharp, telling you to leave him alone despite saying something else. That was it. No nicknames, no smirk, not even a glance your way.

So this was how it was going to be. He wasn’t going to argue. Wasn’t going to fight. He was just done. You stood there a second longer, waiting for something—anything—but Donghyuck was already back to his conversation, shutting you out completely.

You had no choice but to leave.

The noise of the party faded behind you as you stepped outside, the night air cooling the heat creeping up your neck. You exhaled sharply, leaning against the stone wall, trying to shake the feeling sinking into your chest.

You should be angry, right? He was the one who confessed. He was the one who made this messy. Your reaction was valid, but you didn’t know you’d miss him this much. You told him to leave you alone. You told him you couldn’t do this with him. You couldn’t go back on that now. Could you?

“Why not?” your sister asked when you told her everything that night.

You both sat on the balcony, mirroring each other—feet tucked in, arms wrapped around your knees, gazes fixed on the dark horizon. The air was warm but your chest felt tight, like there wasn’t enough air to breathe.

“Because…” you groaned, resting your chin on your knees. “Jeno.”

Your sister didn’t say anything, just waited.

“It’s different, I know,” you admitted. “It’s not fair to compare. Jeno never tried. He didn’t care enough to try.” The words felt sharp in your mouth, but they were true. Jeno let you slip through his fingers like you were nothing. Donghyuck wasn’t like that. He had only ever shown you how much he wanted you, how much he adored you in his own perverted and unconventional way, but it was hard to ignore.

The problem wasn’t him. It was you. You had given your heart to someone before, and he hadn’t known what to do with it. He was careless with it. Now, you weren’t sure if you even knew how to give it again, or if you even wanted to.

Your sister sighed, reaching over to smooth her fingers through your hair. “Sweetheart,” she said, her voice soft, “you don’t have to hand over your heart to someone else. It’s yours. You take care of it. You protect it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t share it.”

You swallowed, staring at your hands.

“If you love yourself enough,” she continued, “if you know how to hold your own heart gently, no one else can break it beyond repair. Do you get what I’m saying?”

You did. And for the first time, it wasn’t a question of whether Donghyuck would break your heart. It was whether you would let yourself love him.

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” you blurted, standing up before you could even think twice.

You hurried out, riding the elevator to his floor. But before the doors could close, doubt crept into your heart so you rushed out instead.

You stood there for a moment, eyes fixed on your reflection in the steel doors. “I need a drink,” you muttered to yourself, and turned toward the bar.

The alcohol burned its way down, but it wasn’t doing its job fast enough. You tapped your fingers against the bar, willing your nerves to settle, but they rattled harder. Another shot. Then another. Liquid courage, right? That's what they called it. But all it did was blur your thoughts and spin your head.

By the time you reached your tenth shot, your vision was doubling. You were drunk, and you knew it. But you knew where you had to be.

Somehow, you found yourself in front of Donghyuck’s suite. Your fist hit the door—once, twice, then again, harder, louder, more persistent. You had no idea what time it was, but it had to be late, because when the door finally swung open, Donghyuck looked like he had just been about to call it a night. His hair was tousled, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, and his eyes—God, those eyes—were heavy and unreadable.

You swayed slightly, gripping the doorframe for balance, but you didn’t say a word. Neither did he. The silence stretched and then, without thinking, without speaking, you kissed him.

It wasn’t soft or tentative—it was desperate, heated, almost punishing. You tasted like alcohol and something bittersweet, and Donghyuck’s sharp intake of breath against your lips made you want to pull away. But you didn’t. You needed this, needed him.

His hands settled on your waist, steadying you, but he didn’t pull you closer. Didn’t kiss you back the way you wanted him to.

When he finally pulled away, you chased after him, but he held you at arm’s length. His breathing was uneven, and his eyes were dark and unreadable. “What do you want from me?”

The question hit harder than it should have. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You didn’t have an answer to that.

And then you saw someone. A girl stood a few feet inside the suite, tall and striking, wearing an expensive silk dress that clung to her frame exquisitely. The kind of girl who belonged in his world, who probably knew all the right things to say and do. She wasn’t looking at you with pity or amusement—she was just there, existing in his space.

Your stomach turned. You shoved Donghyuck away, stumbling slightly in the process, but you didn’t stop. You didn’t look at him, didn’t let him speak. You just turned and left, ignoring the sound of him calling after you.

You had no idea where you were going, but anywhere was better than here. You kept walking, climbing stairs, descending them. It was a maze of white buildings, your chest heavy with the alcohol and the weight of your issues with Donghyuck. You kept walking until you finally found yourself in the hotel parking lot, disoriented and alone.

You didn’t know why you ended up there, what you were even trying to do anymore. You were drunk, confused, and angry, yet you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Then you heard his voice. It cut through the quiet night, sharp and frustrated. “Hey!” He was standing in the distance, looking at you with frustration and concern in his expression.

“Fuck you,” you shouted. But he didn’t flinch. He just walked toward you.

“You’re drunk. I’ll take you back to your room,” he said softly, reaching for your arm.

You swatted his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” you cried, hugging yourself. “Don’t touch me with those hands.”

“Princess…”

“And don’t call me that either!” You laughed, bitterly, stepping back. You could feel the rain starting to fall, light at first, then heavier. “Go back to your woman, Donghyuck. You can’t be out here chasing another while someone’s waiting for you in your suite.”

He sighed, rubbing his neck like he was physically exhausted. The rain picked up. “It’s not what you think. She's not my woman. Just… come with me. Let’s go back inside.”

You backed away when he reached for you again. “You think I’m the problem, don’t you? You think I’m the one who’s been messing this up. But you’re the one who made it all so complicated. You ruined this, Donghyuck! You told me you loved me, and then you…” Your voice broke, and your knees gave way.

You sank to the ground, spinning from the alcohol. Donghyuck crouched beside you, his hands on your shoulders, steady but not comforting.

“You left me alone,” you sobbed, weakly hitting his chest.

His jaw tightened. “You told me to leave you alone. I only did what you asked.”

“Yeah, well maybe I didn’t mean it!” you snapped, looking up at him, desperate to make him understand. “Maybe I didn’t want you to leave me alone! But you just walked away, acted like nothing happened. The next morning, I was a stranger to you!” Your chest was tight, voice cracking as you finally let yourself say it out loud. You didn’t know when you’d been this vulnerable before. Maybe never.

“I’m not a stranger,” you added softly, burying your face in your hands, the tears falling freely now.

His eyes softened, and for a moment, there was something gentle there. His voice was quieter when he asked, “What do you really want, princess? Tell me. Because I don’t know how to fix this when you can’t even make up your mind.”

Your head spun. You wanted to yell at him. Tell him to never leave you alone. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you kissed him again.

It wasn’t a kiss born from clarity or understanding. It was desperation. A way to make all the emotions, all the anger, and the hurt disappear. His hands cupped your face, and for the first time in days, something felt real.

Then the image of the girl in his room registered in your mind and suddenly, you were furious again. You pushed him away, sending him to the ground with a confused look on his face. Tears mixed with the rain as you stood, storming away. You couldn’t stop crying, and you didn’t know if you were mad at him or yourself. Everything was too much.

Then, you heard his voice again, rougher this time. “Hey! Wait!”

You turned around to see Donghyuck running toward you, his footsteps slapping against the wet pavement. You didn’t want to hear him. Didn’t want to see him. But there he was, pushing past you, grabbing your arm to stop you.

“Let go of me!” you snapped, pulling your arm free.

“I’m not letting you walk away from this, damn it!” His voice cracked, and suddenly, you were face to face with him again. “You can’t keep running from this.”

“I can. Just stop chasing me!” You shoved at him, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled you closer.

“Why do you keep doing this to us?” he demanded.

“I don’t know!” you cried, your voice breaking. “I don’t know, Donghyuck. I don’t even know what this is anymore.”

The next thing you knew, a sports car screeched into the parking lot, headlights blinding you both. You both froze, caught in a moment of shock, and then, in one swift motion, Donghyuck shoved you out of the car’s path.

You hit the ground hard, pain shooting through your body. But before you could even process it, the sound of screeching tires and the crash of metal against metal filled your ears.

The world spun. You heard Donghyuck’s voice calling your name, but it was distant, muffled. Blood rushed to your ears as the pain hit your side, and everything went black.

You were aware of the beeping first, then the scent of antiseptic in the air. You blinked a few times, your eyelids heavy like they weren’t yours. The world was blurry at first, and then, slowly, it began to sharpen. The white walls of a hospital room greeted you, sterile and unfamiliar. For a moment, you couldn’t remember how you got here, but the dull ache in your body reminded you of the crash.

“Hey, you’re awake!” The voice was familiar—your sister’s. You turned your head slightly, finding her sitting beside you, looking like she hadn’t slept in days. Her eyes were red, and there was a worried line etched between her brows. “You had us so scared, you know that?”

You swallowed hard, your mind immediately going back to the scene before everything went blank. Donghyuck. You had to know if he was okay.

You tried to speak, but your throat was dry, the words trapped there. Instead, you reached out weakly, and she immediately grabbed your hand, squeezing it with relief. She called the nurse, and moments later, a doctor came in with a couple of nurses in tow. They adjusted the IV hooked up to your arm, checking your vitals and asking you simple questions—name, date, where you were.

The doctor nodded as you answered everything correctly, then gave a reassuring smile. “Everything looks good. You’re going to be just fine. Just need some more rest.”

You nodded in return, barely processing what he was saying. Your gaze kept flicking toward the door, hoping to see a familiar face, but no one came. Then, through the small crack in the door, you saw Taeyong.

He entered the room, his face stern, but there was a touch of worry in his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat, hoping Donghyuck would follow him in, but he didn’t.

You stared at him, struggling to get the words out, your voice hoarse. “Where… where’s Donghyuck?”

Taeyong hesitated, his eyes flickering between you and your sister, who had stayed quietly at your side. He sighed, the lines of worry deepening on his face. “There was an accident,” he started slowly. “A drunk guest was driving, and they crashed into the parking lot. Donghyuck… he tried to get to you but he was a little too late and this happened.”

You didn’t understand. “What happened to him?” you demanded, your voice firm despite the dizziness that still lingered in your head. “Is he okay?”

Taeyong seemed to weigh his words before continuing. “He’s fine. Everyone’s fine. You were actually the last to wake up. After the accident, things got complicated. Lawsuits, settlements… The other party’s insurance is involved now. It’s a mess. But the good news is, you’re okay. Just a few injuries, nothing too serious. The shock made you pass out for a couple of days, that’s all.”

You barely heard him as he spoke, your mind only focused on one thing. Where was Donghyuck? Your eyes scanned Taeyong’s face desperately. “Taeyong. Where is he?”

Taeyong looked to your sister, who nodded at him. He stepped back and gave a small, regretful smile, excusing himself with a murmured, “I’ll leave you two alone.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, your sister turned to you and you could see the hesitation in her eyes. There was an answer to your question that she didn’t want to give.

“Donghyuck left the island this morning,” she said quietly, her voice strained. “He’s not here anymore.”

Your sister was watching you carefully, like she was bracing for your reaction.

“He left?” Your voice came out flat, barely above a whisper. “Why? Where did he go? Did he go back to NCIT?”

Your sister sighed. “Honey, he won’t be going to NCIT anymore. Donghyuck went back to Korea. He is to finish his studies there. I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’ll see him again.”

A laugh—bitter and humorless—escaped your lips before you could stop it. You waited for her to say something else, to clarify, but she didn’t.

“So that’s it?” you asked, feeling the sting of it settle deeper. “He didn’t even wait for me to wake up?”

Your sister looked at you, her eyes full of sympathy, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. A suffocating ache built in your chest, and your breath hitched as you finally let yourself feel everything. The betrayal. The confusion. The pain. Tears spilled over, one after another, wetting your pillow. Your sister reached out to comfort you, but you pulled away, turning your face to the side, unable to face her, unable to face the reality of it.

“I wanna be alone,” you choked, your voice breaking. “Please. Just go.”

Your sister’s lips parted, but she said nothing. She rose to her feet and left quietly, closing the door behind her.

You were left alone with the silence of the room, the soft whirring of the machines, and the overwhelming regret of what you couldn’t change. The tears didn’t stop, but there was something strangely calming about the release. You cried for the things you didn’t say, for the things left unsaid, for the way everything had slipped through your fingers like sand.

It was stupid, really. You should have known better. You did know better. You were right all along, weren’t you? Love—whatever the hell that was—only ever ended in heartbreak. Yours, specifically.

Your fingers clenched the blanket as you let out a shaky breath. Maybe if you had just been a little braver, if you had let yourself be more open, things wouldn’t have ended like this.

But that was wishful thinking. Because at the end of the day, Donghyuck had made his choice. And you were left here—again—trying to figure out how to pick up the pieces.

When you landed back home, the sight of familiar faces waiting at the airport nearly made you cry. Ningning, Karina, Giselle, Jaemin, and Renjun too. They spotted you the moment you stepped past security, their worried faces instantly breaking into smiles. Before you could react, Ningning threw her arms around you, squeezing the air out of your lungs.

“Oh my God, you have no idea how worried we were!” she exclaimed, squeezing you so tightly it was hard to breathe.

Karina was right behind her, arms crossed but eyes filled with relief. “You could’ve at least texted more, you know. ‘I’m alive’ doesn’t cut it.”

Giselle nodded in agreement, hands on her hips. “Seriously. We were two seconds away from hijacking a flight to Mykonos.”

Jaemin grinned, stepping forward and ruffling your hair like you were a kid. “Welcome back, troublemaker.”

Even Renjun was there, standing slightly behind the group with his usual composed expression. But when your eyes met, he gave you a small nod. “It’s good to see you.”

It was overwhelming, all of it—their presence, their concern, the way they made you feel like you truly belonged here. A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down and forced a smile. “I missed you guys,” you said, voice soft but genuine.

“Duh.” Ningning pulled away, smacking your arm lightly. “Come on, let’s get you home. Your mom’s been cooking all day.”

The drive back was filled with laughter, inside jokes, and playful bickering—just like it always was. They didn’t know what had happened in Mykonos. None of them did except your sister. To them, this was just a trip gone slightly wrong, not a summer that had unraveled you. And maybe that was for the best.

Back home, your mother had prepared a warm meal, welcoming everyone inside like it was some kind of homecoming celebration. The house smelled of home-cooked food, the kind only your mother could make. Your mom appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel before pulling you into a hug. She held you for a few seconds longer than usual, her grip firm, like she needed to reassure herself that you were really here.

Dinner was loud, filled with laughter and stories. No one asked about Mykonos, about the accident, about him. It was as if the summer never happened.

But you knew better. It did happen. And though your heart still ached, you told yourself it was okay. Because Mykonos was beautiful—wild, messy, unforgettable. You would remember it like a fever dream, something distant yet vivid, lingering in the corners of your mind.

But would you ever go back? No. Some things weren’t worth reliving. A broken heart wasn’t worth it.

Still, you wouldn’t trade the scars. They were proof of something real—something fleeting, intense, and impossible to hold onto. And at the end of the day, that was enough.

To: LDH/LHC Though it didn’t last, I hope our paths cross again -x

[fin]

70 notes · View notes

maraschinomerry · 11 months ago

Text

Rock Paper Scissors

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader, background Locklyle

Summary: George is your best friend, Lucy's convinced there's more to it but he's not your type... is he?

Content: friends to lovers, oblivious flirting, misunderstanding, light swearing and suggestive thoughts, kisses

A/N: it's officially 1 year since I posted my first Lockwood & Co fic!! Thank you all for making it such an incredible year and continuing to support my writing, it means the world to me ❤️ and thank you to the Multiverse of George for fuelling the buff!George fire 🔥 I've even made a montage so everyone can see the vision, plus the gif above of George swinging the chains he's definitely strong 💪

Word count: 4.2k

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea @mischiefmanaged71 (let me know if you want adding or removing!)

Ever since you'd started working for Lockwood & Co, you and George had had the most playful rivalry.

It had started on the very first day, when you came for your interview. Lucy had welcomed you into the living room while George went to fetch the biscuits. After breezing through the tests, Lockwood gestured to the plate still being clutched by the other boy.

“Biscuit?”

You frowned at the boy in the armchair, who looked like the last thing he wanted to do was to share. “Am I supposed to fight you for them or something?”

George had the audacity to snort. “In your dreams.” But then he did offer you the plate, albeit reluctantly.

Once you got used to one another, you found that you actually got on really well and gradually he became your best friend, but by then you'd set a precedent that neither of you wanted to drop.

“We're heading out soon,” Lucy informed you both as she slid cups of tea across the table. She and Lockwood had an appointment with a client, leaving you and George behind to keep working. “Can one of you oil the chains ready for tonight?”

You turned to George; he was already looking at you. A gleam came to his eye.

“Rock paper scissors?”

“You bet,” you grinned, already raising your hand. It took a few attempts, as you'd done it so many times by now that the two of you knew what each other was planning before it happened, but eventually you lost. Sticking your tongue out, you picked up your cup and headed towards the basement. Lucy followed you down.

“Can I ask you something?” she began cautiously.

“Course you can.” It wasn't like Lucy to not just ask straight out. This was odd.

“What's going on with you and George?” This was definitely odd. “It feels like you've gone past teasing, you're almost flirting with each other.”

Your gaze flew to your friend, who had lingered on the stairs. Was she being serious? “It's not like that, Luce,” you replied, wondering if it was warm in the basement or if it was just you. “I love him to bits, but the same way I love all of you. He's just not my type.”

Her eyebrow quirked up at that. “You have a type?”

“Don't say that like you don't,” you hit back. “You and Lockwood are made for each other! And George is great, really, but I prefer guys a bit more… buff?”

Lucy nodded. “Interesting.” It was spoken with the air of someone who knew exactly why it was interesting and someone who was absolutely not going to explain why. “Well… just don't rule anything out, but please be careful. I love you both too and I'd hate to see either of you get hurt.”

It was touching to hear her so candid about her feelings for you both. “I won't, I promise.”

—

You always forgot how ridiculously heavy the chains were. Just trying to hoist them up to make sure you'd oiled all the way round each joint was a workout. It was only adrenaline that carried you through working with them on cases. Thank goodness you were almost finished - your arms were beginning to ache and you were sure you were coated in sweat.

“Need a hand?” George's voice drifted from the stairs. You hadn't heard him come down, probably drowned out by the clanking links and your strained grunts, but there he was, sitting on one of the lower steps and watching you in amusement.

“You mean you want me to dishonour the sacred pact of rock paper scissors?” You mimed fainting in shock, taking the opportunity to slump back on the pile of chains and let the tension dissipate from your shoulders.

He chuckled, climbing down the final few steps and holding out his hand. “Will the sacred pact allow a lunch break? I made soup.” He'd got you there and he knew it. You loved his soup. Grinning, you accepted his hand and he pulled you away from the cold, hard metal.

There were two steaming bowls already set out on the table when you got back to the kitchen, and beside yours was a plate of sandwiches, cut exactly how you liked them.

“You're the best.”

“I know,” George smirked. He was eating with one hand, the other scribbling away on the Thinking Cloth. As he became more engrossed, he leant further forwards, his dark curls flopping over his brow. It was fascinating watching him get so engrossed in his work, the whole world melting away around him. Once you finished eating, you glanced across and took his empty bowl from in front of him. He looked up sharply, snapped from wherever his thoughts had taken him.

“Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you,” you mumbled.

“No, it's fine. We should probably get packed.”

You followed him down to the basement and pulled your kit bags from the shelf. Set side by side on the table, you both began to load up.

“You can carry the chains,” you told him over your shoulder as you picked up a half-empty box of flares and emptied it into your bag.

“Hey, you're the one who lost!”

“Only for cleaning them, I've done my bit.”

He huffed, but gave you a smile as he made his way over to the mound of chains. Your eyes widened as he scooped up a whole length in one easy movement and gave them a quick shake loose. You'd spent nearly quarter of an hour trying to manoeuvre that section earlier.

“How the hell did you do that?”

“They're not that heavy,” he shrugged, then added with a cheeky raised eyebrow, “or at least only when you’re trying to clean them.”

You threw the empty cardboard box at his head with a laugh.

—

A week later, the four of you were nestled in the living room. Outside, rain battered against the windows, which were almost being shaken out of their frames by the driving wind. You'd never have guessed it was June; it felt more like January. The fire was lit in the hearth, the occasional crackle of wood splitting the only other sound.

Eventually, Lockwood broke the silence. “I hate to say it, but someone's going to have to go out. We've got no tea left and barely enough food to last until tonight. We can draw straws to make it fair.”

He needn't have bothered. You and George already had your fists raised. One, two, three, paper. One, two, three, rock. Scissors. Paper. Scissors. Rock. Round and round you went, the symmetry only fuelling your competitive natures.

“This is ridiculous,” Lucy muttered. She was right, of course.

You raised your fist higher, leaning forward in an offered challenge. “Right. Arm wrestle. Loser goes.”

George leaned in, resting his elbow on the table. Lockwood and Lucy exchanged wide-eyed glances.

“Y/n…” Lucy began, but you weren't listening. Your elbow was already mirroring George's, hand in his. You weren't sure why you'd expected the easy, flexible grip of holding a rapier, but his fingers were clenched firmly around the back of your hand. Lockwood moved closer and counted you down.

Your hand hit the table almost immediately.

It felt like all the air had left the room. You stared in shock at the boy opposite, the triumphant toothy grin that crinkled his eyes, the unexpected tightness of his shirt sleeve around his arm. The similar tightness in your chest. Interesting.

Some sort of realisation hit you, and your attention shifted to Lucy. The look she was giving you was almost as satisfied as George's. Warmth flooded your cheeks. You drew in a shaky breath as you struggled to drag your eyes away from George's arm, which was still pinning yours to the table. After a moment, you felt his fingers loosen and with some reluctance pulled your hand away. The silence in the room was palpable. Lucy was still watching you in amusement. Lockwood was watching Lucy, trying to figure out why she had that “I know something you don't” look again over a simple arm wrestle. George was watching you too, his expression slowly shifting from victory to concern.

“Y/n? You okay?” he asked quietly. Your thoughts rushed back into your body, snapping your attention into the real world.

“All good,” you mumbled. “Just preparing to get drenched. If I'm not back in 20 minutes, assume I've been blown to the other end of the country.” At least that got a laugh out of Lockwood. Hurriedly, you stood and made your way to the front door. Why had you agreed to this? It was your own fault, of course, for continuing this whole competitive thing with George, but how were you to know he was that strong? A flash of bicep clouded your vision again, and you reached for the door handle before you did something regrettable.

“Hold on,” a voice came behind you. It was him. Keep it together, you told yourself.

“If you're about to volunteer to take my place, go ahead,” you forced yourself to stay casual.

George moved closer, and you swallowed a lump in your throat. “I was actually going to question why you looked like you were about to leave without a coat.” He reached to the rack over your shoulder, lifting yours from its hook.

“That might help.” You knew you were blushing again, but prayed he thought it was just from embarrassment at being so forgetful. Definitely not how close he was, how he was holding your coat in the same hand that had been holding yours moments ago.

—

By the time you made it back to the house, you were soaked to the bone and almost shivering. It seemed like the storm wasn't going to let up until at least the next day, so you'd decided to stock up on plenty of food which had seemed like a great idea until you tried to carry it all home. You'd had to stop several times on the way, ducking into doorways and bus shelters to escape the weather as you swapped hands, flexed your shoulders or relieved your fingers from where the handles of the bags had started to make dents. When you finally made it, you held the door open with one foot as you negotiated the bags in and dropped them unceremoniously on the hall floor. George emerged from the living room, alone this time; Lockwood and Lucy must have gone upstairs or down to the basement.

“You look awful.”

“Aww thanks, you're not so bad yourself,” you joked dryly. Oh god, Lucy was right, you were almost flirting. A shiver ran through you and this time you hoped it was from the cold.

For a second, you thought you saw George's eyelids flutter. “Well, I uh… I ran you a bath to warm you back up. I'll put this away.” He hauled up the bags of shopping with barely a huff, and you tried to reason that he hadn't just carried them through a storm.

The water was soothingly warm and scented with lavender salts, the smell wafting up in delicate bursts as it swirled around, relaxing all the tension in your aching muscles. As you lay peacefully, you reflected on what had happened earlier. You weren't sure you'd ever felt… You couldn't even identify what feelings you'd experienced during the arm wrestle. Shock? Embarrassment? No. It was something else, something that Lucy had noticed immediately and had been trying to get through to your oblivious self. But she was wrong, wasn't she? You said it yourself, you weren't into George, even if he did now fulfil your main criteria. Then again, so did plenty of other guys you'd met. Kipps was quite well built, definitely had muscles, but that didn't mean you'd considered dating him. He wasn't like George though - smart, funny, thoughtful George. You couldn't imagine Kipps running you a bath or making your favourite lunch, or doing any number of the things that with George felt so natural. And there were all the little things you did for him that you'd never do for anyone else. No, there were no two ways about it: you were a pair in whatever capacity that meant.

Still didn't mean you fancied him, you told yourself.

You volunteered to help George with the dishes after dinner that night. It was always nice to be able to spend time just the two of you in sync, but tonight especially you figured it was a good idea to be around him in perfectly normal circumstances. You'd chat or enjoy the companionable quiet, you'd both be at ease; nothing could possibly happen, which would give you time to prove your feelings were a fluke.

George picked up his blue rubber gloves and tossed you a tea towel. He was dressed casually, in sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt (so large that the sleeves almost met his gloves at the elbow). The radio was playing quietly in the background, giving you a welcome distraction. Whenever a song you recognised came on, you'd start humming along or singing under your breath, and George would smile at you, sometimes even joining in. Your heart leapt a bit when he did, but that was nothing, you were just happy to be sharing this moment with your friend. He stuck an arm deeper into the sink to grab something at the bottom and made a small noise. Water had splashed up onto the cuff of his sleeve. You giggled at the look of disgust he made at the wet fabric sticking to his skin. The sound died in your throat when he took off his gloves, draped them on the side of the sink and rolled his sleeves up out of the way. You were so used to him being hidden behind his giant tops, or at the very least being in longer sleeved shirts, that seeing his bicep completely exposed was a shock in more ways than one. It wasn't much wonder he'd beaten you so easily at arm wrestling with muscles like that. You wondered whether it was just his arms that were so toned, or was the rest of him the same? Was he hiding a set of abs under that T-shirt too? Were his thighs-

“You okay?” George nudged you, and you hastily looked away.

“I was just…” Come on, come on, find an excuse, your brain urged. “...thinking how this means we both got wet clothes today, if you want me to put that top in with my washing after this?” God that was lame. Not much wonder he wasn't interested in you. That wasn't the point, you reminded yourself.

“Oh,” he smiled. “That'd be great, thanks.” He leant over to put a chopping board on the draining rack, and his bicep brushed against yours. A shockwave of warmth resonated through your whole body. Oh.

“Tell you what,” you forced yourself not to stammer, “are you okay to finish up here and I'll go and grab the laundry basket?” He nodded, and you tried not to fall over your own feet as you retreated to the hallway and sucked in a breath to calm your racing heart. Oh.

—

You cursed yourself for ever starting this. No, this was Lucy's fault for pointing it out. No, still your fault.

Being around George was becoming unbearable. Not for anything he'd done, rather the things he wasn't doing. He was carrying on exactly as he always had, that inimitable blend of playful and caring, and it was driving you mad not knowing whether he meant any of it in the way you wanted him to. You couldn't say anything, of course. If you were wrong, it would mess up the whole dynamic of the group. That would hurt almost as much as any rejection. But the more things went on, the more you took notice of the little moments between you, the more your feelings grew until it felt like they would crawl out of your chest.

“What the hell were you thinking?” George snapped at Lockwood. He and Lucy had been out on a case which went badly, and now the four of you were sitting at the dining table in the early hours, George applying butterfly stitches to a cut on Lockwood's arm and you cleaning a couple of scratches on Lucy's face. The misty gloom of the night outside the window reflected the atmosphere within.

“I was thinking,” Lockwood snapped back, “that we only had to handle a couple of Type Ones, according to your notes.”

“I told you those weren't finished!”

“Well maybe next time, don't get distracted.” Was it your imagination, or had his gaze flickered to you?

“Maybe next time,” George replied darkly, “do your own research.”

“Fine.” Lockwood pushed his chair back and stalked from the room. Lucy shot you both an apologetic grimace and followed.

George began pacing round the kitchen, hands twitching angrily. You stayed at the table, knowing it was best to give him the space to say or do whatever he needed to let his feelings out. You were there if he needed you.

“Can you believe him?” It was rhetorical, you'd heard him say it enough to know, so you waited for him to continue. “We end up in this situation almost every week, because he's too reckless to wait! I know he'd rather be in the action, but he'd be able to do all that more if he'd let me give him the right information first.”

You gently waded in, trying to be reassuring. “We all know how useful your research is; he just gets overeager, especially when Lucy's involved.”

“I know you know how important it is,” his words sent butterflies through you, “but Lockwood just…” He gave a frustrated huff. “Maybe I should make him do all the legwork for a change.” You tried very hard not to think about whether George's legs were as muscular as his arms.

“I'll support whatever you decide, but for what it's worth I think you should just talk to him.”

He sighed heavily, placing his hands flat on the table and allowing his head to drop. “You're right. Thanks, y/n.” The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, as did his deep brown eyes as he raised his head to look at you. You were already distracted by the tension which lingered in his shoulders, the rigidity of his arms as they supported his weight, the way he had leaned into the pose so much that now when he looked up his face was so close it almost filled your vision. You swallowed nervously.

“Any time. I- I have to go.” You stumbled up from your chair, ignoring George's confused stare and sounds of protest as you practically bolted from the room.

—

You lay on your bed in the attic, tears slowly soaking into the pillow you'd buried your face in. This was the end; it had to be. You couldn't carry on working for the agency like this. If George had shown any interest it would be okay - Lockwood and Lucy managed to balance being a couple who worked and lived together, there was no reason you two couldn't do the same, but it could never work being so one-sided. You'd just keep being weird, struggling to hold your nerve around the boy until it would start bleeding into cases and Lockwood would have no choice but to fire you for everyone's safety, if you hadn't already got one of you hurt by then. Not to mention the emotional hurt. It would happen either way, but at least if you walked away now you could control it.

“Y/n?” Lucy's voice came tentatively from the bottom of the steps. “George said you ran off, is everything okay?”

You flipped onto your back, drawing in shuddering breaths to recover from almost suffocating in the pillow. “You were right, Luce.” There was movement on the steps, but you kept your eyes on the ceiling. You couldn't bear to look at anyone right now. “I tried so hard to make sure neither of us got hurt, but George doesn't love me back and now I feel like even if I stay I'm going to lose him.”

The silence that followed dragged on longer than you could bear. Why wasn't she saying anything? You forced yourself to sit up.

George stood at the entrance to your room, eyes wide and lips parted.

You scrambled to your feet. “Shit! I mean, hi, um… how long have you been there?”

George continued to stare.

“I'm so sorry,” the words were rushing out of you now, “I just panicked but I don't want to make things weird so can we just pretend-”

“What do you mean, ‘doesn't love me back'?” he interrupted quietly.

You froze. There was no mistaking it: he'd heard you basically say you loved him and now there he was looking like the mere concept was so unbelievable, like the option hadn't even crossed his mind. Why would it? Time stretched on as you fought the urge to run again, as far as the ever-widening space between you would allow. Neither of you had moved, but you could feel the room expanding around you to make room for the bottomless pit you wanted to crawl into. “I…” you drew in a slow, deep breath, “I was fine just being friends but Lucy got in my head about you being exactly my type and now I think I'm actually flirting while you're still just pretending and I'm sorry…” Tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes and you hurriedly looked away, hoping he wouldn't see.

George stepped closer, and you shrunk even further into yourself. Your heart skipped a beat when he gently tilted your chin up to meet his surprisingly soft gaze. “I meant, why do you think I don't love you back?”

You faltered. Was he saying what you thought he was? “Well, I mean, I thought I'd made things super obvious and awkward but you didn't change so I thought you weren't interested.”

George's hand was still on your chin and his thumb rubbed soothingly across your cheek, wiping away the single tear that had spilled. “I thought you weren't interested! You normally go for those muscly gym guys so I figured I'd take whatever I could get with the arm wrestles and stuff, but then you started avoiding me so I thought you were done with it.”

A small laugh escaped you, and he looked at you in confusion. “Have you seen yourself?” Hesitantly, you raised a hand to his bicep, marvelling at finally being able to feel the muscle instead of just staring at it, and more amazed at the way the boy responded to your touch, drifting closer until you were barely inches apart.

“So then why did you run?” His voice was whisper soft against your face, eyes gazing down at you with an overwhelming blend of sincerity, bewilderment and something like longing. His cheeks were tinted as pink as you knew yours were.

“Got flustered.”

“Flustered? You? I don't believe you.” A smile tugged at the edge of his lips, the playfulness you were used to creeping back into his voice. It was such a relief to feel the tension dissipating from the room, to have your George back, that you buried your head in his shoulder with a giggle. He laughed too, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Oh, I see, you really want to do this? Okay, let's see ‘flustered y/n’ at their best.”

You yelped in surprise as his other arm hooked under your legs and swept you off your feet, your arms flying up round his neck for support. His arm was tense across your back but he looked the most relaxed he'd been since he walked in, and he shifted you closer to press a quick kiss to your lips before setting you down on the bed and sitting beside you.

“Lucy's going to be very smug about this, you know,” he nudged you.

“I know,” you whined, burying your face in your hands. “Rock paper scissors for who has to tell her.” George laughed again and placed his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer as you leant into the embrace.

“Is this just a ploy to get more hugs?”

“Is it working?”

In response, he brought his other arm around your waist and kissed your forehead. You smiled, leaning up to kiss him properly, and he reciprocated eagerly.

—

Lucy had left George alone on the steps to your room once you started your confession, giving you both a bit of privacy, and decided when he didn't come back downstairs immediately that things had either gone very badly or very well. She believed, and hoped, that it was the latter. Her suspicions were confirmed when she came to tell you she'd made breakfast and found you fast asleep, wrapped in George's arms.

#george karim x reader #lockwood & co #lockwood and co fanfiction #george karim #gn!reader #multiverse of george #buff!george

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biggestxsimps · 2 years ago

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Last Embrace

A/N: I am so sorry for not posting the last couple of months, I've had the worst bloody writers block. I know how much y'all like the Ghost fics so I hope you guys enjoy this! This one's a bit sad, even though angst isn't my strong suit, I really liked writing this and I think it turned out okay.

Just a disclaimer, I know nothing about the military and even less about dying so just let me know of any inaccuracies and I'll fix em.

WARNINGS: blood, mentions of guns and bullet wounds, normal war shenanigans, death (Let me know if I'm missing anything.)

During a mission, everything took a turn for the worse. Ghost urgently gave the order for everyone to evacuate, swiftly conducting a head count, only to realize that Y/N was missing. Filled with concern, he called out for him over the radio. "C/S? C/S, how copy?" Ghost's grip tightened on the radio at the lack of a response. "C/S?! Y/N, what's your position?"

Worry builds deep in Ghost's stomach, an almost nausea-like feeling coursing through him as he speaks through the radio once more. "Y/N. Y/N! I need your location!"

Y/N groans as he hears a loud ringing in his ears, one that fills his mind and brings an ache to his head. His eyes remain shut as he tries to ground himself, though the sound of a familiar voice in his left ear makes his lids slowly blink open.

Though his vision is blurry and everything feels fuzzy, Y/N places a hand on his shoulder and clicks the button on the radio. "Ghost? That you?" Y/N's strained and weak voice makes Ghost sigh in relief. "Ah fuck. Thank god, Y/N." Ghost's voice calms down as he speaks again, his voice stern as he tries to get an answer out of the other man.

"Where are you, Y/N?"

Y/N groans as he tries to look around, his vision still blurred enough to not be able to see anything in detail, he had little to no memory of what he'd been doing before, and the visible bright white walls and floor made him want to close his eyes again. Y/N speaks up once more, his voice holding a slight amusement. "Don't know.. I can't see properly. I'm inside a building, though."

Ghost seems to feel slightly more at ease once he hears Y/N speak, he was glad the man was okay enough to be able to smile through his pain. "Can you see anything? Anything at all?" Ghost looks around at the buildings in the area, Y/N could be anywhere.

"White walls and floors.. I can't make out anything else, though... That help at all?"

Y/N lets his body press against the cold wall behind him, relishing in the relaxing chill shooting through his body. He starts to take a few deep breaths as he tries to keep himself stable, slowly looking around the bare walls, the paint cracked and peeling. His vision gets torn away though, the bright lights starting to flicker, the hall flashing from eerily dark to painfully bright.

An annoying buzz was audible as the light stopped blinking, remaining on. Y/N could see debris on the ground, he wasn't surprised, this was a warzone after all. Y/N slowly closes his eyes, letting himself relax.

Though the feeling of a sharp pain makes his eyes shoot open, a pained noise escapes the man as he looks down at his body. His eyes widened as his gaze trailed down; the only thing he could make out was blood–blood covering his abdomen, blood covering his hands, and blood covering the floor.

Shit.

"Yeah, that helps, Y/N. I'll be there soon, you stay there, alright?" Ghost's voice was gentle, like he was trying to keep the man at ease. But Y/N wasn't listening, his eyes were too focused on the bloody mess in front of him. Y/N's throat starts to close up, the intense smell of the blood making him feel sick.

He brings his hands to the wound, pulling his warm, sticky, blood-soaked shirt up as he tries his best to judge the severity of it. His heart drops as he sees multiple bullet holes piercing his skin, cringing at the amount of blood still escaping him. He was hit with a sudden realization.

"Y/N, you still with me? I'm not far, just stay alive f'me, okay?"

"Ghost.. I don't think I'm gonna make it.."

Ghost's body fills with dread, his heart aching at the sound of Y/N's discouraged and afraid voice. Ghost shakes his head, trying to sprint even faster, his breathing ragged as he speaks through the radio. "Shut it. You're gonna be alright. I'm gonna make it to you, and then we're gonna get you out of here. Alive."

Ghost tries to keep his tone confident, but the shake in his voice shows just how worried he was. He knew that he had to make it there quickly if he wanted the best chance at saving Y/N. His words were rushed as he repeated himself, wanting to hear that Y/N believed him. "Do I make myself clear? I'm getting you out of here alive."

Y/N can't help but slowly shake his head to himself, he could see his wound, he could see how quickly he was losing blood, he could feel the way his body was slowly going numb. His breaths escape him at an uneven pace, his heart racing as he comes to terms with the situation. "Ghost.. I'm losing too much blood. I can't.."

"Yes, yes, you can. You will survive Y/N, I know you will. You have to.."

Ghost ran, ran like he's never done before. He couldn't lose Y/N, not now, not like this. The building was in sight, he was so close to being with Y/N, being able to help him, save him. Ghost could feel the burn in his legs and his lungs and the hard thumping of his pulsing heart. The dry feeling in his throat makes him want to take a breath, but he doesn't stop running, not for a second.

As Ghost ran into the building, Y/N could hear him, his loud footsteps echoing against the bare halls. "I'm here, can you tell me exactly where you are?" Y/N could hear Ghost's urgent yet puffed out voice from both the radio and from the right side of the building, the sound not too far away.

"I can hear you, Ghost.. You're to my right." Y/N's voice was the opposite of Ghost's, he tried to keep his voice as calm as he could, and the strain already being put on his body by the wound, made it impossible to speak any louder without putting himself in even more pain.

"Okay, just.. Just stay there. I'm nearly there, you're gonna be okay."

Y/N's eyes drift to the right side of the building, hearing Ghost's heavy footsteps hitting against the ground. A small and pained smile forms on Y/N's face as he sees the masked man come into sight, watching as he quickly rushes towards him.

A feeling of relief swarms through Ghost's body as he sees Y/N sitting against one of the walls, though the condition the other man was in made his worry come right back. He quickly makes it to Y/N, dropping to his knees as he brings his hands to Y/N's body. "Y/N.. Fuck..." He can't help but take a second to look into Y/N's eyes, his own brown ones showing extreme vulnerability, a look of pure fear.

Y/N lets out a dry and painful sounding chuckle, trying to ease Ghost a little. "Mhm.. it's me." Y/N brings one of his shaky and bloodied hands up, letting it just hover over Ghost's covered cheek, not wanting to get his blood all over Ghost's mask. Ghost doesn't seem to care though, letting his face gently push into Y/N's hand.

Ghost lets out a shaky breath as he feels Y/N's hand against his face. "You're.. You're gonna be okay.. I'm gonna get you out of here, alright? I promise." Y/N gently shakes his head, his small smile faltering as he pulls his other arm away from his wound.

Ghost's eyebrows furrow as he sees Y/N's reaction to his words, but before he can speak, his eyes move down to where Y/N had moved his arm from. Ghost feels his heart shatter as the sight, multiple bullet wounds scattered across his abdomen, blood slowly seeping from each one.

Ghost shakes his head, almost frantically as he brings both hands to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding with his gloved palms. All he manages to achieve though is flooding Y/N's body in pain, evident by the startled cries leaving the injured man.

"Fuck.. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Just let me stop the bleeding, let me.."

Ghost's panicky voice trails off as he sees Y/N's wounds only bleeding more aggressively at his touch. He shakes his head, looking down at the other man's body as he keeps his hands on the wound. The blood soaks through Ghost's gloves, the warm and gory liquid uncomfortably sticking to his skin.

Y/N's hands instinctively reach Ghost's wrists, pulling the other man's hands away. "Fuck! Stop.. stop, Ghost." Y/N's grip was weak and his body had little to no strength now. Ghost slowly pulls his own shaky hands away. "I'm sorry.. I just.. you're gonna be okay, I'm gonna find some way to stop the bleeding, and then we'll.. we'll go back home. We're gonna-".

"Simon."

Ghost's mouth shuts at the use of his real name, an audible gulp being heard. His eyes trail back up to look into Y/N's, the look the other man gave him only made his heart sink, he felt like his world was falling apart. "Please.. we both know I'm not making it out of here.. just-"

"You are. You're going to make it out of here. Shut up with that nonsense." Ghost doesn't want to hear it, he refuses to hear it, to acknowledge it.. to accept it. He tried to keep his voice stern but the tremble that grew with each word made it obvious he wasn't all too hopeful either.

He slowly pulls his hands out of Y/N's grasp, bringing them back down to the surrounding area of the wound, his quivering fingers gently trailed over the scarred skin. He pulled off his gloves, using his bare hands to touch Y/N.

"You.. you can't... You're all I have left.."

Ghost's voice softened, his words paining him as they left his mouth. Y/N rests his hand back onto Ghost's mask, sliding it slightly down as he slips a couple fingers underneath the mask. The injured man remains silent, afraid of the emotion that'll leave him if he dared to speak up.

Ghost feels Y/N's fingers slide underneath the mask, a warm feeling bubbling in his stomach. He brings one of his bare palms to Y/N's hand, holding it in place before slowly, cautiously, pulling his mask over and off his head.

The sight of the rugged man made Y/N meekly smile, his heart fluttering at the long-awaited reveal of the subject of his attraction. He had been into Ghost for quite a while, and he always had a suspicion that Ghost felt the same. It was almost a silent understanding between both men, never outwardly speaking of their true feelings yet knowing they felt them.

Ghost looks down, his eyes falling shut as his grip on the other man's hand tightens, holding him closer against his now bare face. He didn't care for the blood the other man's hand was rubbing onto his skin, he needed this, he needed the Y/N's gentle touch.

"Thank you.." Ghost slowly opened his eyes at the other man's pained voice, watching as Y/N slumps further down the wall, groaning at the pressure it relieved from his wounds.

Y/N lets out a small hum at the feeling of the cold floor pressing against his back, a stark contrast to the warm liquid pouring out the front of him.

Ghost slightly shakes his head, a small smile on his face as he questions the other man. "What are you doing?" The other man signals for Ghost to come closer, his voice strained but trying to keep it sounding as optimistic as he could despite the situation.

"Getting comfortable.. Come here."

Ghost does just that, shuffling closer to the man that was now laying flat on the ground, looking down at him, his eyebrows furrowing as he takes in the man's appearance. One of Y/N's weak hands moves to Ghost's arm, gently pulling him even closer.

"Sit down, relax." Y/N was oddly calm despite the situation, despite knowing his undeniable fate. "Relax? How am I supposed to-" Y/N tugs at Ghost's arm, interrupting him. "Please." The desperation in Y/N's voice made Ghost's stomach wrench, he silently sat beside him, bringing his hands to hold onto Y/N's.

Y/N gratefully hums, his eyes looking over the other man before making a request, pleading evident in his tone. "Think you could hold me..? Jus' for a bit?" Ghost nodded, carefully wrapping his arms around Y/N's shoulders, gently pulling him into his arms.

His senses were heightened, he could feel everything, the warm blood starting to soak through his own shirt and the shake in Y/N's body. The rough and cold hands of the other man, weakly wrapped over whatever part of Ghost he could reach. Y/N lays in his arms, weak and helpless, his skin losing colour and his body shaking more rapidly...

For the first time that evening, Ghost came to terms with what was going to happen, he couldn't deny it any longer, not when it was so obvious. His eyes tear up, his heart thumping louder as all he can do is pull Y/N closer, hold the injured man in his arms as he wishes for this to just be some twisted nightmare.

He couldn't keep himself calm anymore, waves of emotions crashing onto him, flooding his mind and filling his body with unease. His grip tightened, the fabric of Y/N's clothes balling up in his fists, he just pulled him closer, not wanting to let him go, not now, not ever.

"Hey.. Simon."

Y/N looks up at the man holding him, watching as he struggles to hold in the tears his body so desperately wants to let fall. Y/N's cold fingers trace along Ghost's cheek, pulling his face a little closer, his voice quieter and more strained than before. "It's gonna be okay.."

Though the injured man was smiling in a way to comfort Ghost, his true feelings were obvious. His eyes held fear, a fear Ghost had never seen on the usually optimistic man before.

He knew he had to be strong, he knew that whatever fear he felt right now, Y/N was feeling tenfold. He took deep breaths, trying to gather himself. He felt his throat close up, he couldn't speak, not without breaking down completely, he could only nod in reply. He brought a trembling hand down to Y/N's face, his rough fingers caressing the skin with a softness Ghost didn't know he was capable of.

Y/N closed his eyes, humming at the gentle touch, and the contrasting feeling of Ghost's warm hand pressing against his chilled cheek. His presence was comforting, it almost felt like he was cuddled up against a cosy fireplace, like the flames were crackling in front of him and leaving warm kisses on his cheek.

It was a nice thought, a nice feeling, but it seemed like the pain in his abdomen did anything it could to bring Y/N out of his calming mindset. It felt like his body was on fire, but also like he had been out in the cold for days. His feet were numb now and he could feel the way his legs and fingertips also started to lose their senses.

He looked up at Ghost, tears had started to form in his own eyes, ones that were impossible to hide. "I'm scared.. you'll be here.. right? Please.. don't let me go, not yet.." His voice was faint, filled with an uneasy panic. Ghost started to nod, bringing his face closer down, letting his lips press against Y/N's cold forehead.

"..yes, yes.. I'll be r-right here. I'm not moving.. I'm not letting you go..."

Y/N closes his eyes, his head falling to the side slightly as he sighs. "Y'know.. I always looked up to you, Simon.." He leans his head deep into Ghost's chest, his tears slowly falling as he feels his body go numb. He had lost all feeling in his arms and legs, even the ache in his abdomen had started to ease. Ghost shakes his head slowly, biting his lower lip in an attempt to hold in the sobs he so desperately wanted to let go.

"I love you, Simon."

Ghost pulled Y/N closer, letting out quiet, choked sounds. He felt Y/N's body start to go limp in his arms, his hands desperately pulling at the other man's body to hold him in a comforting embrace. "I.. I love you too... Fuck.. don't do this to me.."

"I'm sorry.." Y/N moves his head, digging his face further into the other man's chest. All he could smell and hear was Ghost, the man he had grown so attached to. It brought him some comfort, knowing he would be dying in Ghost's arms, not alone. "Forgive me.."

"Always, Y/N.. always.."

Y/N lets out a weak hum, slightly nodding his head as his body relaxes in Ghost's arms, his head now starting to fall limp, being too heavy for Y/N to move. "..thank you..." Y/N's voice was barely audible, his mumble causing Ghost's heart to shatter.

"Always.. a-always... I-I'm here.. always..."

Ghost cradled the dying man in his arms, soothingly whispering as he slowly swayed his body side to side. "It's okay.. It's okay... You're safe.. you're safe with me.." Y/N's voice was practically inaudible as he tried to mumble back to the other man, his incoherent slurs trailing off into silence.

Ghost felt as if his whole world was crashing down right before his eyes. He could only pull Y/N closer, continuing to cradle the fallen soldier. His movements became a little more frantic as he rocked their bodies, his fingers clawing at Y/N's cold skin.

"Shit- I'm so sorry... I-It's okay.. It's gonna be okay.. It's gonna be okay..."

He whispered into the other man's ear, his voice broken as he felt the tears he had been suppressing, finally fall freely. His words started as a means to comfort his dying partner, but it seemed like he was only trying to convince himself now. He mumbled a mantra of 'It's okay' and 'I love you', the words just tumbling out without his control.

His body trembled, his throat letting out more choked sobs now than it had in the last 10 years, his eyes were screwed shut, his head dug into Y/N's frozen neck. His hands tried their best to pull Y/N's limp head up, his tears pouring down his bloody cheeks as the other man's head just dropped back down.

If only he made it there sooner, if only he was there to protect him; none of this would've happened. He wouldn't be here, holding the corpse of the man that showed him what it was like to be alive, how to feel, how to love. The one person that had been able to break down his walls and make him feel human again.

It felt like hours, hours of cradling his deceased lover in his arms like a child, hours of sobbing and mourning the one person that brought light into this cruel world.

"Ghost? Do you copy?"

Ghost heard the static of his radio before the familiar voice of his Captain rung through his ears. "Ghost?" Ghost's teeth grit as he hesitantly brought his hand to the radio on his shoulder, forcefully composing himself before clicking the button. "I'm here." He looked down at the deceased man in his arms, hugging him close as his body threatened to break down once more.

"Evac's here, did you reach C/S?"

Ghost lets out a shaky breath, his fingers shaking as he grips the radio. "C/S's.. C/S's been KIA." His hand falls from the radio, his blood-stained fingers gently caressing Y/N's cold cheek, gently pulling his face closer. Ghost couldn't help but admire the other man, his eyes closed and his eyebrows relaxed. His lips were tugged into a small smile, his skin devoid of its usual colour. He looked.. peaceful.

There was a few seconds of silence from the other line before it was cut by Price's voice once more. "I'm sorry, Ghost." Ghost placed a soft kiss on Y/N's bloody forehead, speaking through the radio one last time, leaving no room for argument. "I'll be there in a few, I'm takin' him with me."

Ghost snatched his mask from the floor beside him, pulling it on before scooping Y/N into his arms. He lifted him up, holding his limp body against his chest as he whispered. "It's gonna be okay.. I've got you.." He held the man tightly, his eyes glancing down at Y/N's motionless figure every few steps he took.

"I've got you..."

A/N: Could you tell I struggled ending this? I won't lie, I teared up a couple times while writing this, I think this might be the saddest thing I've written. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated, especially since I'm still not too familiar with Ghost's personality. This is also my longest fic ever, about 3.4k words!

Also a big thank you for over 400 followers, we're so appreciative of all your support!

Masterlist

- Written by Owner 1

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callsign-muffin · 6 months ago

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Heal Together: Chapter 3

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

I kinda want to make a playlist for this fic with all the music I mention in it. But I also work crazy hours and my writing time is my time to relax, so I don't know if I want to add something else on top of it if no one would care, ya know?

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.8k

“He started talking a little more last night.” Carly smiled after she finished giving you report, “He didn’t say much to me besides ‘thank you’ and asking for whatever he needed. Maybe you’ll be able to get more out of him, you guys seem to have really good rapport.”

“He responded very well to my sarcasm. Patient’s often don’t so it was a nice change.” You shrugged.

“Do you think he’s gonna be transferred to a step down unit?” She asked.

You nodded, “Yeah and I’ll miss him. It was nice having a patient I could actually interact with.”

Carly’s eyes widened, “What kind of ICU nurse are you? We love ‘em intubated and sedated.”

“A tired one!” You stated, “I need a few more sips of coffee and then let’s go sign off meds.”

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Rooster was only slightly awake when Y/N and Carly entered the room to finish their morning sign off. They didn’t turn on the light, spoke in soft whispers, and used the glow of the computer screen as their light. He turned over groggily, as his vision cleared, he saw Y/N there. She looked so beautiful with her hair pulled back messily in a claw clip and her bright eyes quickly traveled back and forth as she compared the medications hanging on the IV pole with the computer. She moved about the space as if she owned it. Hell, with the way she’s helped Bradley the last 48 hours, she practically does own it.

“Good morning, Bradley.” She smiled down at him sweetly, “How ya feeling’?”

“Not too shabby.” His voice was still a bit raspy.

She feigned surprise, “Ah! He speaks!”

Rooster smiled up at her, “Soon you’ll be wishing I had that tube back down my throat to shut me up.”

She shook her head, “Never.”

“I see Carly removed your catheter last night.” Y/N inquired after finishing her head to toe assessment on Bradley.

He nodded, “About 2 hours ago at 5 in the morning. It was fucking awkward having someone 10 years younger than me touch my dick.”

Y/N snorted trying to hold back a belly laugh, “I hate to break it to ya but that girl is more than 10 years younger than you.”

His face dropped in horror, “Holy shit, that’s a child!”

“She has the same license I do.” You shrugged, “She’s absolutely qualified to do what she does.”

“Unbelievable!” Rooster playfully rolled his eyes.

Y/N slightly pivoted the conversation, “You feel strong enough to get up and pee? Or do you need something to use while in bed?”

“Like a bottle?” He questioned.

She nodded, “We call it a bedside urinal but it’s the same idea.”

He nodded, “Yeah, I’ll try and get my ass up.”

“Good choice. You wanna try now?”

Bradley thought for a minute, “I mean… I probably should…”

“Alright champ, let’s do it nice and slow.” She moved his tray table out of the way.

He looked around, “Can you give a man get some privacy?”

“Not when you’re fresh off the vent. I’m not risking you falling ‘cause you have a shy bladder!” She rolled her eyes jokingly.

He grinned playfully, “Don’t go checking out my junk.”

“Already seen it and I wasn’t planning on doing it again.”

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“Alright Lieutenant, looks like you’re cleared for transfer down to a medical observation floor.” A different older doctor from yesterday said with his posse of residents, “Glad to see you’re on the mend.”

“Me too, sir.” Bradley agreed.

The same resident from the day before, Carl Parks looked at you with disdain, “Nurse, I’ll get the transfer orders in when I can.”

“‘Preciate it, doc.” You fired back coolly. It was cute that he thought that he’d be able to get under your skin.

They all exited and moved on to their next patient for rounds.

“What’s up his ass?” Rooster asked you.

You smirked, “The shame of being wrong.”

He gave you a questioning look.

“He didn’t think you were ready to get off the ventilator yesterday, I challenged him on it and the attending doctor took my side.” You explained, “Guys like him hate being wrong, their egos get bruised.”

He scoffed, “I don’t know how he’s smart enough to be a doctor if he was dumb enough to question you.”

“But what if this new unit sucks?” Bradley complained as you wheeled his bed down the hall and towards the elevator.

“All hospital units suck,” you scoffed, “Except for maybe labor and delivery.”

“I’m guessing my lack of vagina means I can’t go there.”

You stopped at the elevator and pressed the button, “You’d be correct.”

“Well shit.” He chuckled.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened; you carefully pushed the bed inside.

“This is a good thing,” you pressed the 3rd floor button, “the sooner you get out of the ICU, the closer you are to going home.”

Bradley sighed, “Yeah but… I’m going to miss you.”

“Really?” Butterflies began to flutter in your stomach.

What the hell was that? You thought to yourself.

He nodded, “Yeah, you’re the first nurse that made me feel like a human being.”

You paused, taken aback by his words. “I don’t think you even understand how much it means to me to hear you say that.”

The elevator dinged again and the doors opened to your floor.

“I mean every word.” He said as you pushed him down the hall towards the medical observation unit, “You’re a good nurse— a great nurse.”

“Wow,” you stopped at the unit entrance and used your badge to open the doors, “Thank you so much for saying that.”

The nurse that was taking over Bradley’s care interrupted your conversation and helped you get his bed into the new room. You guys did your checks, you gave her a quick beside report, and you were good to go.

You looked at Bradley and sighed, “It was a pleasure taking care of you, Lt. Bradshaw. Keep getting better.”

He nodded and gave you a soft smile, “I will. Thank you for all you did for me.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Two weeks later

It was Bradley’s first night out since before his deployment, it felt like a lifetime had gone by. He couldn’t wait to see all his friends at the Hard Deck and show them he was doing alright. The only one who’d seen him since he was med-evaced from the aircraft carrier was Phoenix. She was the one who picked him up from the hospital after discharge and took him home. He told her all about the angel nurse he met, how she bathed him and talked to him while he was intubated, how she was by his side to talk him through his extubation, how she made him laugh, and how he hasn’t stopped thinking about her.

“BRADSHAW,” Jake “Hangman” Seresin, his best frienemy, shouted across the bar from the pool table, “as I live and breathe!”

“We weren’t sure if he was living and breathing for a second back on the carrier.” Coyote quipped.

All the men greeted each other with big hugs and claps on the back. Despite their joking in the moment, those men were terrified that they were going to lose Rooster. Hangman was on the cot next to him in the infirmary as they were intubating him. It was a nightmare, to say the least.

“Glad you’re okay, buddy.” Bob said, “Let me buy you a drink.”

“Are you sure?” Bradley questioned, “But you don’t drink.”

Bob shook his head, “Doesn’t matter, I’m just so glad you’re here.”

Phoenix lovingly patted his cheek, “Awww Bob, you really are the best of all of us.”

“Truly.” Bradley agreed.

He could’ve sworn he was going crazy. He saw Y/N. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her. But to be fair, he thought he saw her everywhere. She hadn’t left his mind since the day he met her. But this time he heard her voice and her laugh in the crowd. His eyes scanned the crowded bar for a familiar face. BINGO! There sh was, waiting for a drink at the bar. With a familiar young, little blonde. Was that Carly the child?!

“Go find yourself a cute sailor or something!” He heard her say over the loud music, “That’s what I’d do if I was young and hot!”

“Y/N, shut up! You’re only 28, you’re young and hot too!” The little blonde nudged her.

Wow, she was just as beautiful as he remembered her. Though she was a little more dressed up, she still had that same calm and caring demeanor that she had every time she walked into his room in the ICU. She was wearing a tight white T-shirt and faded jeans, effortlessly beautiful.

“Oh no you don’t!” She grabbed Carly’s wrist as she tried to slip her card to the bartender who just served them their drinks.

Carly ignored her and handed over the card, “Oh yes I do! You’ve helped me so much ever since you started, I feel like I’m actually getting the hang of this nurse thing with your help. Let me treat you!”

Y/N pouted, “Fine! But no more after this! You need to save your money for fun and adventure!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Carly saluted her like an officer.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“Absolutely not,” You cried over the music at Carly and the other younger nurses that were with you at the Hard Deck.

“Absolutely yes!!!” Another young nurse, Madi handed you a tequila shot and a lime.

You groaned, “I’m too old for this!”

“NO YOU’RE NOT!” The girls chorused.

You looked down at the tiny glass, could your stomach even handle this anymore.

“Dooooooooo it!” Carly taunted evilly.

“Doooooooooooooooo it!” Sam echoed.

You groaned, “Ugh! Fine!” And you tossed the shot back like a champ, chasing it immediately with the lime. Your face contorted, “Oof it burns.”

All the girls cheered and threw their shots back together.

Suddenly the jukebox cut, making the room fall silent for a moment. Then a couple of chords slammed on a piano.

You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain

Too much love drives a man insane

You broke my will, but what a thrill

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire

Your head whipped around, wondering where the hell this piano was coming from.

“Holy shit.” Carly’s jaw dropped.

You looked in the same general direction Carly was, “Holy shit.”

“What?!” Madi asked over the loud music and singing. Many others had since joined in.

“That’s the patient Y/N fought Parks about extubating .” She explained.

You were still frozen.

“He’s kinda hot.” Sam giggled.

All you could choke out was, “That’s quite the mustache.”

Tag list:

@sarah-bear706318

Please message or comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster x y/n #rooster x you #top gun fic #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x you

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justanofficeworker · 7 months ago

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TW: This Fic contains kidnapping, dub con, NSFW scenes, Stockholm syndrome among other things. Please do not read if these themes upset or disturb you. That being said, welcome and enjoy the ride.

A/n: Thank you for waiting for this chapter, after like 2 weeks of writers block and not knowing how to pull story beats together its done. I'm gonna start chapter 3 next Monday and hopefully release it before Friday. As always thank you for your support and drop a follow if you like my work.

Chapter 2- The date

You could hear what sounded like rattling metal as you ended your call with Simon. ‘Probably the dog he had mentioned at the store’ you thought to yourself as you began to frantically sift through your closet. It was a simple coffee date, no need to get dolled up. Maybe just a cute top and some jeans. “Yeah this should work “ you say aloud as you lay out your outfit for tomorrow.It had been so long since you went on an actual date. Sure you had the occasional hook up and to be truthful a lot of them, were not up to snuff. But this coffee date was something to actively look forward to. Simon was polite and patient from what you could tell. He had suggested somewhere highly public and not tried to get you to his place immediately . Maybe all your waiting had finally paid off and you had found an actual nice guy. “Let's just hope he’s not some kind of serial killer” you mused to your house plant as you passed it on the way out your bedroom and to your now cooling bath. Now all you had to do was relax and let tomorrow come.

Simon pov

Simon was late. Johnny had decided he needed to be a brat as soon as Simon made his way to the front door. Pulling at Simon's belt , murmuring ‘just’ a quickie, fer good luck and’ a clear head’ he had murmured. That quickie ended up being more of a half hour event, with Johnny whining for him to ‘go harder, please sir, wanna feel you while you catch our bird’. Granted Simon did have a clear head as he walked through the door to the small-ish coffee shop you’d agreed to meet him in. Panning his vision across the small space yielded a sight that could make an angel fall. There you sat, eyes wet , idly stirring what looked like a chocolate flavored coffee topped with pink sprinkles. God you looked so dejected , like everything that could go wrong in the world had all happened just before Simon had walked in. Slowly, Simon made his way towards you internally cursing Johnny for being so persuasive in his efforts to hop on his dick and spin.

“Ello lil bird, I'm sorry to be so late,” Simon remarked as he stopped , right behind Beanie’s chair.

The brown skinned woman sat up quickly , blinking away un-shed tears. “Oh shit, Simon, heeeey. I figured you wouldn't show” She greeted , turning in her seat. Simon felt lower than low, seeing the wetness in her eyes gather and release a single tear that she quickly wiped away.

“God you must think I'm well and truly an ass' ' Simon retorted with a sad crow “my dog decided he wanted to make a mess right as I was leavin my house. If I had known it would take so long to clean, I would have just left" Simon's eyebrow furrowed at that last remark, sudden anger foreign.

“May i?” he gestured to the chair opposite you.

Nodding you avert your eyes to look at the door , suddenly thinking about whether or not you should just make a run for it. “ you know normally if someone is this late to a date i leave” you quip , hoping to hide your nerves.

“Yeah? Well I'm honored that you decided to stay. I hate to admit it but you've been on my mind since yesterday. I’ve gotta tell ya I'm curious, who are you , where you've been , what you want and how i can factor into those plans. You are mesmerizing "Simon finished , in awe of you all but glow under his complements. a feeling shoots up your spine as you feel you face heat at the confession.No one had ever said something so deep to you and been genuine . Most of the time guys would say ‘deep’ shit to try to charm their way into your bed. Maybe it was because Simon was hot and made you feel butterflies in very inappropriate areas or maybe his vulnerability was something you craved , you weren't sure yet. You did know that you were going to keep Simon in your life for as long as he would let you cling. Plus he had a dog and everyone loves dogs.

“That's a lofty ask Simon , maybe I'll tell you who i am on this date and for each date I'll answer one of you questions. But you gotta answer them too” you bargain. Simon seems pleased that you want to know him just as much as he wants to know you.

“ Well then Simon, my name is Y/n L/n, most people call me Beanie. I’m 27 and i work from home as a freelance book editor. My favorite desert is flan and house plant tending is my hobby." Beanie formally introduces herself , much like one would do in front of class at the beginning of a school semester.You look at Simon expectantly.

“ oh um ,’ he starts “My name is Simon Riley, Simon is fine, I'm 37 and I'm a retired military vet. Not by choice mind you, ended up with a bad injury and got discharged with a couple of my men. Now i just garden and take care of an old geezer of a dog.”

You and Simon talked for another hour before the cashier announced the shop would be closing early due to some sort of electrical issue. Simon took this as the perfect time to draw your date to a close and promising that he would text you later. You agreed that it was a good idea to end here and make plans for a later meeting.

_____________________________________________

Your second date, a week later , ended up being your idea. A quiet afternoon at a local park for a picnic.

“Well Simon, your next question of where I’ve been” you said propping yourself up on your elbows. “I’ve been to the states, Canada, the Caribbean. Ive got family there , but we don’t talk much. And finally London. I ended up staying and applying for a citizenship after my work visa ran out and i gotta say, i like it here.” You finish with a giggle. You’d been looking forward to this date all week.

Simon was so open and honest, telling at length about his injury and it felt to basically repurpose his life after being discharged. You couldn’t imagine having to reboot how you went about your life so abruptly. He was so strong for that. Handsome, kind and thoughtful, Simon had even gotten you a bouquet of peonies, your favorite flower. You weren't entirely sure how he knew, but it was thoughtful none the less.

Simon looked deep in thought before he responded “ originally born an’ raised in Manchester, though during my military career I've seen all corners of the world , but I’m much more content with the more rural areas of London”. Simon looked off into the distance, surveying the park goers when he caught sight of a black and brown blurred bee lining straight for you.

One second you were turning your head to see what Simon was looking for and the next you were in his lap as a very hyper doberman barreled right through the spot you had been sitting in. A very frantic dog walker yelling an apology as he dashed passed, leash in hand. A giggle tumbled out of your mouth as you watched the pair until they were out of sight. It was only then that you realized , you were suddenly very close to your date.

Your eyes met his and it was kind of like fate. Like the stars had aligned and pushed your two souls into each other's orbit , willing you to meet. Your eyes connect and Simon leans closer.

And closer.

Till his lips are just barely ghosting over yours. 'screw this waitin shit' you think as you surge forward, closing the distance and sharing a searing kiss. His lips tasted like the strawberries you had brought and the champagne Simon surprised you with when you had met at his car. It was like everything clicked together and the world stopped for a brief second. Sadly you both had to breath at some point and you pulled away.

"Oh wow" you sighed, almost giddy with the lack of oxygen. "I've never been one to kiss on the second date, but that felt"

"right?" Simon finished your sentence for you. " to be honest I've never felt as comfortable as i do with you." he reveled , holding you close.

You stayed like that for a while, sun beginning to set and the park lights flickering on. Soon it was time for you to leave. You folded and packed away your picnic basket and made your way back to Simon's car. he had insisted that he take you home, the drive to your building was comfortably silent , the radio playing some new love song by an obscure boy band. It didn't occur to you that you hadn't given him your address, too love struck for the thought to register.

The drive wasn't long and soon you were parked outside of your home, Simon slipping out to open your door and walk you up the stairs. "I had a nice time, thank you for the picnic" you say to to Simon suddenly shy as Simon crowded you against the door.He leaned down, close to your ear and said " for our next date , I'll take you somewhere real fancy, wear something pretty for me , ok?" he voice soft and velvety. Planting a quick kiss on your cheek he stepped back and winked. You release a breath you weren't aware you were holding, face hot. "yeeah, yep. c-call me when you get home k!' you stammer as you unlock your door and slip inside under Simon's watchful eyes.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Simon signed as he watched your door slide shut. Your date was a success and soon, so very soon you would be home with him and johnny. You had felt so soft in his arms and now that he had had a taste of you , there was no substitute. he just had to get you home, without damaging you too much. He had the whole drive home to finalize his thoughts.

Pulling up the gravel drive way , he could see johnny lazing on the front porch, face tight in concentration as he sketched on a drawing pad, near manic in he fervor.

"ech-em" Simon cleared his throat, jolting johnny out of his thoughts, "Jesus, ye big bastard. Did ya need to scare me half to death?" he admonished as he set aside his art supplies. Simon chuckled a the Scot's crassness, "And here i was ready to tell you how my date went with our bird and all i get is yelled at. Maybe I should' Simon trails off as johnny all but bum-rushes him, shouting obscenities as he forcefully pulls Simon towards their front door and into the living room , where he promptly shoves Simon down onto the couch and straddles his lap with an expectant look. " now, tell me everything" johnny pushes , blue eyes wide an waiting.

Simon lets out a warm laugh as his hands run up and down the fat of johnny's ass and thighs, gripping and groping every now and then. "There's my eager puppy. You wanna know all there is to know about our precious bird, dont'cha?" Simon pulling his lover close so he can whisper into his ear. “Her favorite fruit is strawberries, want to taste?” He teases as johnny rears back and smashes his lips with Simon’s. Johnny can only whine as Simon's tongue slip's past his lips.

They had much to 'discuss'.

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soft!ghost #john soap mactavish #cod mw3 #domestic fluff #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost x soap #ghoap #ghoap x reader #ghoap fic

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shortbcofkoffee · 1 month ago

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Little extra from chapter 2 my fic Disgusting on ao3

Duke hated being called for emergencies at night. For one, it meant he lost sleep, which sucked because he still had day patrol. For two, it meant there was an emergency that needed a meta, which meant it was either a real shit situation or hyper-specific to his abilities. Either way, he didn't want to be up this late.

When Red Robin had contacted him, he'd been in bed, peacefully sleeping. Black Bat and Spoiler were already there when he got to the scene. Tim explained the situation with Damian sticking weirdly close to his side. Like closer than he usually would voluntarily. The objective of the night was simple:

Batman was under the effects of fear toxin, lure him to someplace abandoned and find a way to knock him out.

None of them could really truly beat Bruce on fear toxin if the reports Duke had been forced to read for Batman contingency plans had been anything to go by. But they could knock him out. Duke's job was something he could do easily, tricks of the light. Basically, guide Bruce to some warehouse by putting moving shadows at the edge of his vision. Cass sometimes dropped in to make the shadows seem more real. It worked like a charm and only took them thirty minutes once Bruce gave up punching random shit because of the hallucinations.

Frankly, it was terrifying to see Bruce like this. His movements were wild and uncalculated and so not like him. Duke actually thought he was facing someone else for a while. Only once did Bruce spot him, not that he registered that it was him, but he'd been spotted nonetheless. When he met Bruce's eyes, even through the cowl Bruce looked terrified of him. He didn't like seeing that, it wasn't an expression Batman wore well. Hopefully he'd never have to see it agian.

Once they got to the warehouse, the actual problems started. Knocking out the Batman was much easier said than done. He was a tank of man on his worst days, his pain threshold was so high Duke was pretty sure he wouldn't notice if his arm got ripped off. This was where Red Robin's plan started to fall apart a bit.

"Guys, I'm gonna be honest, we just have to start throwing shit at him," he said over comms.

Steph cackled for a moment before pausing. "Oh, wait, are you actually serious? Dude, I thought there was like an antidote here, like this was a safe house or something."

Damian scoffed. "Look around you, Spoiler, this place is dilapidated. It'd be a disappointing safehouse."

"Wait, so do we just throw rubble at him?" Duke asked. "Is that safe, I don't think that's safe. What if we seriously hurt him?"

"Batman will be fine, just don't throw anything too big and aim for his head. The cowl is padded enough that it won't kill him," Tim instructed.

"Oh!" Duke said.

And so a sort of very messed up game began. To see who's shot would knock Bruce out. This took another fifteen minutes until he was finally actually down. The first few times he fell, he got back up seconds later. A few times, someone had gotten too close and Bruce had violently thrown them against a wall. Duke was sure he'd wake up with sufficiently bruised ribs if not fractured ones tomorrow. The adrenaline right now kept the pain a bit down, but they still hurt. Ultimately, it was Steph's shot that took Bruce down, much to her glee.

"I win! I got him out, I won!"

"Ah, yes, the age-old game of stoning an old man. Quite the accomplishment." Damian rolled his eyes (probably, Duke couldn't really see through the domino mask) and dropped to the ground next to Tim.

Again with the weird closeness, Duke thought to himself. Don't they hate each other or something?

"Don't be pissy because you couldn't throw hard enough," Steph's eyes smiled. She turned to Cass. "Can I have a prize?"

Cass gave a small huff and pressed her mask to the side of Steph's like a kiss.

"Thank you, babe," Steph said.

"You two disgust me and I want to go," Tim groaned.

"Don't be jealous because you're single," she teased.

"Don't be jealous because I have a job," Tim said, just as quickly.

Duke yawned. He should really get to bed so he doesn't half-ass it tomorrow.

#duke thomas #signal dc #tim drake #damian wayne #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #stephcass #bruce wayne #batman #fic #dc batman #my fic #batfam #dc fanfic

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fallingrealms16 · 2 months ago

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CAITVI FIC REC LIST PART 3 (???) <3333

I love them *sighs*

OKAY !! Part 3??? So I said in my previous normal post that this was coming soon and that it was going to be short fics. Apparently I lied. Forgot I had this draft *cackles*

Reminder‼️ pretty please read all the tags on each fic before reading as I am not responsible for any emotional trauma you may experience ^3^ (more notes at the bottom ty, ily <3)

⤵️⤵️⤵️

Face The Noise by hesychia

54.7K Words // 19 Chapters //COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT// //this is part 1 of a trilogy//

Jayce, Viktor, and Caitlyn get invited to a house show. When a new band, the Firelights, takes the stage, Caitlyn finds herself drawn to the mysterious, pink-haired lead guitarist.

Part 2: Teen Idle (jinx one shot)

Part 3: Beat the Daylight (Caitlyn x Vi)

Ignore the author note in chapter one, they end up adding more spice to more chapters hahaha

Parabolic by Enchantable

69K Words // 22 Chapters // COMPLETED

//TEEN AND UP//

Missing scenes across Acts II and III and the aftermath.

Each chapter is a missing scene

Fixing for a Family by Bari_514

136.8K Words // 24 Chapters // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

While creating homes for other families, Caitlyn and Vi learn that building a family isn't always an easy endeavor. They’ll discover that some things simply cannot be fixed, but can be endured; together.

CUTENESS OVERLOAD

Knockout Chemistry by iheart_wheein

149K Words // ?/? Chapters // NOT COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT// being updated frequently

When Caitlyn Kiramman, a perfectionist law student from Piltover’s elite, and Violet "Vi" Lanes, a rebellious boxing star on scholarship, end up as dorm mates, their worlds collide in all the worst ways.

But when Caitlyn’s unwanted admirers start interfering with her studies, and Vi’s slipping grades threaten her spot on the team, they strike an unconventional deal: fake date each other to solve both problems.

The plan is simple—no drama, no feelings, no complications. But with their complementing personalities and undeniable chemistry, keeping things strictly business might just be their biggest challenge yet.

Cheeky bonus o/s fic recs🤪

Craving for you by YourSinfulScribe

4K Words // 1 Chapter // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

After severing ties with her younger sister Powder, Vi finds herself lost, with only her fists to keep her moving forward. She spends her days brawling in grimy underground pit fights, letting the pain and adrenaline numb the emptiness inside. But something feels wrong, she can sense someone watching her, a constant, unnerving presence lurking in the shadows.

When Vi finally confronts her mysterious stalker, she’s startled to find herself face-to-face with a stunning woman who is more than she appears. With a sly smile and a dangerous glint in her eye, this stranger lures Vi into a thrilling game from which escape might be harder than Vi ever anticipated.

Sorry about the small text^ it was realllllly long in larger font :( can make it normal if you guys prefer xx

Helping Hand by lettucehater007 @lettucehater007

4.7K Words // 1 Chapter // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

Basically just Vi and Caitlyn being soft and taking care of each other on their periods. Because that's what good girlfriends do.

I needed this fic for my soul honestly.

This is what you asked for by Sexterp

4.8K Words // 1 Chapter // COMPLETED

//COMPLETED//

After their fallout, Vi and Cait were apart for months. Vi spent her time fighting in a pit and drinking. But what if Vi's vision of Caitlyn wasn't just a vision? What if they slept with each other too drunk and devastated to see through the greasy paint or a fuckass blonde wig?

Ngl this one’s a bit out there…

Posting the next one soon sooooon! Will be a drop with ones shots tehe (maybe a long one or two. Maybe)

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natspookie · 2 years ago

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when you show up

an, hello anon! thanks for the req, hope you’re doing well and life gets less angsty for you:)

made reader a lil nerdy and smart here hehe and this is kind of a comfort fic for me toooooo (inspired by tasm 2)

natasha rushed through the halls, excitement filled to see you. her ap class, captain of the cheerleader squad, and extra circulars were all weighing down on her shoulders.

you had more work than natasha, badly needing a scholarship. with 4 ap classes, captain of debate team, part of school council, and varsity of volleyball, you had been tiring yourself out. hence, natasha’s plan to let you relax today, the start of your one week break.

she hadn’t seen you since tuesday, it was friday now. but you never failed to send her a little text to ask about her day.

natasha went to your favorite bakery, getting your favorite pastries, starbucks for your favorite coffee/ tea, the makeup shop right beside that to get that blush you had run out of, and got herself some jelly for her pb&js that you loved. you were always there for her, now it was her turn to show up.

natasha had already shooed away your kind roommate, wanda, setting her up with her friend who wanda happened to have a crush on, vision.

natasha used the key you gave her to your dorm and started setting up. it was nearing 6pm when she heard your keys jingle.

you shut the door and looked up to see natasha fixing the night light on your bedside table.

“nattie” you sighed, dropping your bag on the floor and jumping on her, giving her a bone crushing hug.

“i miss you too, darling” natasha laughed “waittt i’ll be back i just need to shower, im really sweaty” you kissed her cheek “i already have that fluffy towel you like set up” natasha spoke as you walked towards the bathroom “you’re an angel”

natasha had also refilled your shampoo which was her shampoo as well. when you got out in your pajamas natasha was awaiting you on your bed.

a tray of all your favorites was reheated and sat on the floor, where you sat. “you didn’t have to do all this nattie” you pouted and she flipped on her stomach, just watching you “you deserve it” “oh oh oh! it’s this croissant i love! i haven’t eaten since 10am” you mumbled “dekta you need to take care of yourself, alright”

“mhm.. you too. how was class?” you leaned against your beside table while eating” “the usual, i missed you this week” “i missed you too. but y’know its much harder when we have events to plan for school council” “are you guys in charge of planning the graduation next next month?” “yeah we’re involved in that thing… hows practice for next weeks game?”

“i almost got dropped by the new member when we were forming a pyramid” natasha giggled “are you alright?” you sat up and she just nodded, holding you back “have you eaten?” you asked and natasha thought about it “nattieeee! you need to eat as well” you held up half of the croissant and you moved beside her on the bed, embracing her with legs and arms intertwined.

natasha switched on the tv to your guys’ comfort show, friends. “i love you, thanks for being here with me” you weren’t sure if natasha was up but you said it anyways before falling to sleep

of course the day would come where you and natasha would graduate. thankfully, the college natasha wanted was not too far from your choice of college.

it was the night before your graduation when worries overtook natasha “you’ll be there for me even from a far, right?” natasha whispered “every step of the way.” “i promise we’ll make the… sorta.. long distance thing work, ‘kay?” “i need to work, i need you to function as a human being” you giggled “good” she mumbled, falling asleep

the next morning, you were going over your speech like a crazy woman. “dekta you need to relax” natasha slipped her hand into yours and rubbed circles. “i’m going to make a fool of myself… and i have to shake like 190 people” you chuckled nervously “including meeee!” “my favorite person” you teased

natasha was the loudest in the crowd when you gave your speech, of course mentioning how she helped you through your journey.

it was almost natasha’s turn to walk up and she had something crazy in mind. natasha smiled as she saw you in beside the dean.

“Natalia Alianova Romanov” they announced and Natasha walked up confidently up the stage and shook the dean, receiving her diploma. she shook your hand as well and whispered “can i kiss you” your eyes widened and nodded as natasha took your face in her hand and one on your back. the crowed cheered and you giggled, turning red as natasha smirked walking down.

you straightened your posture as you glanced at the dean who laughed at natasha’s antics.

either way, it ended up with you and natasha together and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romonova #black widow fic #natasha x y/n #highschool au

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asirensrage · 2 months ago

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Saudade - Chapter 27

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Mikey x OC, Hanma x OC, Ran x OC, Mikey x OC x Draken Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Warnings: swearing, violence, threats of violence, murder, smoking, sex, consensual sex between teenagers, alcohol, recreational drug use, mention of trafficking, torture, family neglect, mentions of sexual violence. isekai OC. memory loss. unbeta’d **warnings are not exhaustive** Summary: No one seems to realize she doesn’t belong until she finally runs into her “new” brother, Hanagaki Takemichi. Now, hearing his story, Takara makes the choice to help him and hopefully find her way home, but faking it til you make it only lasts so long when you start losing the memories of the life you had before. As Takemichi becomes the only family she’s ever known, how far will she go to protect him?

notes: Merry Christmas all! I'm currently super sick, but I wanted to add a new chapter for the holidays. I hope you all have a good one! Thanks for reading and commenting. It means a lot.

also on ao3

fic masterlist - prev chapter

She doesn’t know how long it takes.

The sun sets as she dents the bat into another head, demanding to know where he brother is. Either Mucho kept it from everyone, or they’re all stupid enough to keep it from her. She doesn’t care. One way or another, they’re going to pay. The sooner she finds her brother, the better chance they have of surviving her.

She calls Chifuyu every few guys she finds, just to check in and ensure that Takemichi isn’t home. He asks her every time where she is. She never answers.

It’s too fucking easy to sneak up on them. Some of them hear her and try to run, but Takara’s fast and none of them expect her to leap over ledges in ways that could easily break her neck if she’s not careful, but Takara is fueled by the desperate need to find her brother. To exact revenge on the one who took him.

None of them manage to escape.

✨

She’s in the middle of knocking someone’s teeth out when she hears her name.

The guy under her coughs, trying to crawl away from her. She kicks at him, making him curl up in pain before she looks at the intruder.

He approaches slowly and it takes a minute for her to register that it’s not a threat or another target. It’s Draken.

He holds his hands up in front of her like he’s approaching a wild animal. “Hey, it’s me. Just me.”

“Don’t fucking stop me,” she says. Her vision is darkening on the edges but she forces it back. She can keep herself on her feet. She’s been through worse than being constantly on the move for a few hours.

“Not here to stop you,” he says softly. “I’m here to bring you home.”

“I’m not fucking going home until I have my brother,” she snarls.

“I know,” he steps forward. “I know. Chifuyu called. We’ve all been looking for you. Takemichi made it home.”

She drops the bat, dented as it is. “What?” She steps towards him. “He’s home?” The man at her feet groans and she stomps on his head. “Shut up!” She turns back to Draken. “Takemichi’s home? You promise?”

“You know how long it took to find you? Gotta get you a new phone, Kara. I’m just here to give you a ride and save you some time.”

“What the fuck are we waiting for? Take me to him.” She heads toward him. “I swear to god, Draken, if you’re lying to me, you’re next on my list.”

“Not lying. Come on, let’s get you to your brother.”

✨

Takemichi stares at her in shock the moment he sees her. “Takara? What-”

She cuts him off, lunging forward and hugging him tightly. Tears build up in her eyes and for once, she’s the one crying as she clings to her brother. “Takemichi!” She bawls, relief setting in at the sight of him alive and fine. “I thought he killed you!”

Her brother clutches her back. “He didn’t. I’m fine, I promise, Taka, I’m fine.”

She doesn’t let go, the fear of the future happening too soon, making her bury her face in his neck. Her brother looks terrible. He looks like he’s been through hell and it’s only luck that kept him from breaking something in his face.

Takemichi pulls her back, looking at her. “What the fuck happened to you, Takara?” he asks quietly.

“He took you!” her voice cracks and the tears continue to fall down her cheeks. “I watched him beat you unconscious and he took you!”

Takemichi hugs her again. “I’m sorry, Takara. I’m so sorry.”

“If you ever scare me like that again, I swear to God, Take, I’ll string you up by your balls and Hina will have to find someone else because you’ll be a fucking eunuch!”

He looks at her in horror. “Takara!”

She laughs before her vision finally goes completely black and she feels herself fall as she passes out.

✨

The first thing she realizes when she wakes up is how sore she is. Her muscles protest with every movement and she can feel the sharp sting of missing skin on her hands, back and legs. Skidding across pavement was not a good idea. She forces herself to sit up, wincing as she does. The sheets were sticking to her skin. It was going to be a bitch to peel it off.

She’s in her own bed and as she finally breathes through the pain, she looks around and freezes. Mikey and Yuzuha are in her room. Mikey is browsing her shelves and posters while Yuzuha ignores him, focusing on her phone instead.

“You’re awake.”

Mikey moves towards her as she looks up at him. “Leave.” He orders and Yuzuha looks at Takara, waiting for her to nod, before she does.

Takara forces herself to sit up, jaw clenching as she feels the fabric pull off of her shoulders. “What are you doing here?” she asks.

Mikey sighs. “Why didn’t you come to me?”

It takes her a moment before she realizes what he means. Takara looks down. “You would have stopped me. Mucho is Toman. I watched Takemichi get beaten until he was knocked out and kidnapped while other Toman members tried to hold me down. I couldn’t waste time.”

“You didn’t trust me.”

“It’s not that,” she says, even if there’s a grain of truth in it. As far as she was concerned, Toman had turned on her brother. She couldn’t ask for help from anyone but the boys who had been there and she had put them on clean-up duty.

“Mucho is a traitor,” Mikey tells her as he sits down on the edge of the bed. “As are the ones who attacked you.” He reaches out and grabs her chin lightly, turning her face to each side as if he can inspect the damage.

“Stop,” she shoves his hand down off of her.

“I would have helped you.”

“They were your men,” she points out.

“That wouldn’t have stopped me.” Her breath hitches in her chest at the way he’s looking at her. “You’re mine too, Takara. I’ve already told you.” No wonder everyone thought they were dating if this was how he was acting. “I’ll speak to Takemitchy and the first division today. Whatever happens, Takara, stay out of it.”

“What?” she leans forward. “I’m not fucking done.”

“You are for now,” he says. “Look at you. You need to rest and recover.”

“I need to find that motherfucker Mucho and kick his teeth in.” She throws off the blankets only to regret it because her legs are still scraped up and it hurts like hell. She hisses at the feeling.

“Stop,” Mikey orders, grabbing her hands to keep her still. “I won’t let him get away with this, Takara. Trust me.”

She pauses and looks at him. Mikey’s eyes are dark but she thinks she can see the same anger that flows through her. The only difference is that he’s the one who’s been betrayed. Again. She’s merely angry for the sake of her brother. “I want his head.”

“You’ll have it.”

“...fine.”

Mikey leaves with a promise for her to get better and when Yuzuha walks back in, Takara doesn’t need to see her face to know what she’s thinking.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Yuzuha laughs.

“You don’t need to.” Takara forces herself to her feet. Someone helped clean her up a bit while she was out, but she needs a shower and to inspect the damage she did to herself. Running on adrenaline and anger last night kept her from feeling most of the injuries. “Can you do me a favour?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to shower but after…can you help me check the scrapes on my back?”

“Of course,” Yuzuha agrees. “You gonna tell me what happened?”

“They beat and stole Takemichi right in front of me while holding me back.”

Yuzuha looks at her for a moment and when she responds, Takara practically sighs in relief at the understanding. “Did you kill them?”

“No. But I will when I find Mucho.”

Yuzuha nods. “Go shower. I’ll wait.”

“Thanks.”

✨

As much as she wants to go back to bed and stay there, Takara forces herself to move. She has a decent amount in her savings. At least enough for her to go buy a new phone. She’d hate to have to explain to her parents that she lost hers because she was running from a gang. It was a miracle already that no one had called the cops with the fight at their front door. She didn’t know how the boys had cleaned up but they did a good job.

Yuzuha goes with her to get the phone, and bubble tea, which Takara is pretty sure she used to hate but now enjoys. Especially the strawberry flavour. She doesn’t think too much on it. People stare at the bruises and scratches on her face, but Takara waves the injuries away. It’s easier to believe it’s a sports injury, or a bad rollerblade fall than to think that she hunted down gang members in the night like some weird vigilante.

By the time she gets back home, Takemichi is back from meeting with Mikey. He hovers around her as if he’s expecting her to crumble around him again.

“Knock it off!” she snaps. She sits down in the living room and looks at him. “What happened at the meeting?”

Takemichi sits on the floor. “We’re going to fight Tenjiku tomorrow. Inupi thinks that’s when they’ll attack. Mikey’s calling an emergency meeting tonight.”

“Hm.” She leans back against the couch before she hisses at the feeling and leans forward instead. “What happened yesterday? When that fucker took you?”

“Takara!”

“What? It’s not like our parents are around. Tell me.”

So he does. Like all the times he returns to the future, Takemichi tells her everything. He tells her how he was taken just to be a pawn to convince Kokonoi to join Tenjiku. He tried to stop him, to protect his team, but Kokonoi took the offer to keep Takemichi and Inupi from being beaten to death. Instead, they were knocked out again and dropped off into a garbage pile. Takara has barely interacted with the former Black Dragons that Takemichi took under his wing, but Kokonoi has earned her gratitude.

If only for protecting her brother. Even if he claimed otherwise.

She sends Takemichi to grab a nap before he has to be wandering around at night. He repeats Mikey’s request to stay inside, to stay home and be safe. She rolls her eyes but agrees. It’s not like she has any plans anyway. She’s still exhausted and if she hides in her room, she might be able to avoid their parents if they come home.

She spends the time to set up her new phone. It’s reconnected to her number and while she has to redo all of her contacts, she starts with Takemichi’s whom she seems to know by heart.

By the time night falls Ran has texted her again, from what she can tell from the message. She doesn’t reply. She has nothing to say to the man who’s involved with a gang that tried to kill her brother again, whether or not he knew. Even if she likes him more than she’ll ever admit.

An unknown text comes in with <didn’t know you could get hotter ❤️ >. She ignores that one too. There’s no name to it, but it’s not hard to guess that it’s Hanma. She doesn’t know how he gets her number but she blocks him immediately. She doesn’t have the energy to deal with him.

Takara buries herself in her blankets, turns her phone on silent, and goes to sleep.

✨

tag list: @raith-way @zeleniafic @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse

@themaradwrites @kingsmakers @thatmagickjuju @awkwardchick87 @hayatoseyepatch

tr tag: @mitsuwuyaa @blackfire2013 @bleach-your-panties @reiners-milkbiddies

saudade tag: @thisbicc @scythegal @bontenxo

network tag: @pixelcafe-network

#tokyo revengers fic #sano manjiro x oc #haitani ran x oc #hanma shuji x oc #tr oc #tokyo revengers oc #tokyo rev oc #tokyo rev fic #tr fic #sano mikey x oc #ran haitani x oc #shuji hanma x oc #fic: saudade #oc: takara

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alexiswritingstuff · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you’d be okay with writing a Gus piece where maybe Gus and the reader are having an argument and the reader gets scared or flinches if he says something (in THE tone). Naturally, he feels really guilty and comforts the reader or something with a happy ending? Thank you!

Okay, this took wayyyyyy to long to write, and I'm very sorry to the person who requested this. I really hope that you like this, and that I conveyed this in a way that feels natural, but most importantly correct. And that it's also what you wanted.

Just a truck.

Pairing: Gustavo Fring x Gender neutral reader.

Content: hurt/comfort.

Warnings: arguments, implied past abuse and/or trauma.

A/N: If anyone has any issues with phrasing, anything, then please inform me! The last thing that I want to do is offend someone with my writing.

I would also like to say that this fic is very long, so please grab a drink, take a seat and a snack.

I hope you enjoy!

More Gustavo fics.

Taglist- @sukunamybeloved - @viviennemuerte - @miwagila - @marksassybanana

“Sir?”

That time of day had arrived where the restaurant had grown calmer; passed the designated hours that people usually chose to have a meal with the things served at Los Pollos Hermanos.

It sounded like it echoed when the knuckles of your dominant hand knocked on the door in front of you, a good few times. “Gus, It's Y/n.”

There was a beat of silence, the cause of which unclear due to the wood blocking your vision, but it was something that created an urge to fidget as you flexed your fingers.

And then there was the muffled sound.

“Come in.”

Any other person who had to do this probably would have walked in already without knocking. Most of the guys on your side of the business had attitude problems, that whole thing where they thought of themselves as higher than each other.

In turn, it usually meant that a lot of people would just do things without proper thought.

But not you.

It wasn't like you were scared of Gustavo. At this point you had known him and worked alongside him for so long that it was honestly difficult to remember when it had started.

However, when the door in front of you slowly swung inwards, revealing the office that always seemed to be engulfed in this dark lighting, a ball of nerves gathered at the bottom of your stomach.

Your posture straightened, an attempt to present yourself as stoic as possible, when you finally took a step in.

Here we go.

The door latched behind you after a few more slow and careful steps into the room. You halted, looking down at the man who was staring right back at you.

Regardless of the fact that he was simply sat in a chair, the way he held himself always brought a feeling like you were about to start sweating. He was unmoving; the breaths he took not appearing to expand or deflated his chest.

Gustavo didn't even twitch. And neither did his eyes.

This time, when the air passed into his lungs, you could hear the whistle from his nose. “I'm listening.”

Every joint in your body felt as if it stiffened the longer he held your gaze. It was like he could see into your soul and, from his tone, your mind as well. “We believe that one of the trucks has been stolen.”

It felt like you were stood in the centre of a stage. As if the words said had just echoed around a grand hall, and you now awaited some kind of response from an audience. Either overlapping boos or shocked gasps.

Gustavo merely raised his chin, “And how do you know this?”

“The truck didn't arrive when it was supposed to.” You swallowed, “We asked the men at the previous checkpoints, and it appears that it had missed quite a few before that as well.”

It was probably the need to deliver bad news that had your body feeling as stiff as a board, so, when you finally allowed yourself to take a proper breath, your shoulders lowered with it. “We're not sure who did it.”

Now, since the moment the door had opened, was the first time that Gustavo looked away. His gaze dropped, lowering to a neat pile of papers you guessed he had been going through before your appearance.

Was he mad that you interrupted? Processing the news? Thinking of what to do?

When Gustavo started to lean back it had your eyebrows itching to furrow.

It was a slow movement that shifted almost every part of his body, except his hands that remained in the same position on the desk no matter how stretched his arms became, until his back fully pressed into the chair. And then he met your eyes again.

This time it had you gulping.

“May I ask why you've come all the way out here to tell me information that could've been passed over the phone?”

You blinked for a second, waiting for the words to process even though they already had. Your head slightly tilted, “Pardon?”

“You have just told me that one of my trucks has been intercepted,” Gustavo rephrased, pronouncing his words a little slower as if he needed to speak more clearly, “And Instead of trying to find it. You are here. In my restaurant.”

Whenever it was time to tell someone bad news, there was always an ability to get consumed in the "what ifs" There was no way to accurately guess how a person was going to react to something, especially when it came to Gustavo.

But this hadn't been one of the possibilities you imagined.

Your eyebrows officially furrowed, “Sir, we already have men on the job-- I came here to collect Victor and Tyrus, and I just thought it would be good to inform you--”

“Do you have a last known location?”

His tone had switched again, his words fast in a way that said enough on its own. He was looking at you expectantly, the expression on his face making it clear that his patience was being tested.

“Um...” You just blinked for a moment, jarred by the sudden change in topic, “Yes... Yes, we do, but I'm afraid it's from a long time ago.”

Within about five seconds, Gustavo rid his hands from their overlapped position. He slid them towards himself across the smooth surface and, when they got to the edge of a table, he pushed.

His chair rolled for about a second, the squeaking of its wheels being the only sound throughout the room, until he could stand on his feet, “Great.”

Gustavo grabbed one of the armrests, stopping the big chair from smacking into the corner of the table for the printer, and moved it to the side so that he had space.

Above that very printing machine was the only window in the office. The bottom portion of it was the vent system, as the creation for viewing the outside world was just for that. It wasn’t openable.

And though the blinds were mostly drawn, the slats so close to turning to their full extent, you could just see a sliver of the outside world. Gustavo turned towards it, his stiff hands slowly clasping behind his back.

There was some accompanying noise, like: the muffled sound of cars outside, chatter from the dinning area in the restaurant, the blow of air that almost brought goose bumps to your skin.

But the silence was what you could hear the most.

You cleared your throat, attempting to do it in a way that wasn't too loud. Now you understood why Mike didn't want to interact with Gustavo when he was angry.

I mean, you could understand his frustration. It wasn't like you were happy with having a truck go missing yourself, or that you wanted to say something that could make him upset.

However, this was a reaction you didn't properly know how to respond to. And that meant that it could escalate within a simple breath.

“My intention wasn't to... disturb your peace,” you began, trying to word your sentences as carefully as you could, “Is there a particular way you would like this to be handled?”

Once again, the man remained still. The wind was coming from right in front of him and yet his body didn't even sway. He was just staring out of the window. “Isn't that for you to judge?”

His voice was flat this time, like he wasn't even paying attention to what was coming out of his mouth.

The ability to stomach his attitude was getting a little harder with every statement Gustavo made, but you remained calm. It was better to get this all over and done with than to argue like a game of ping pong. “I could make a judgement, yes, but it isn't my truck.”

“We also don't have that much information on the whereabouts, so--”

“Well, did the truck just disappear? Into thin air?” By the time you had blinked he was facing you once again, his expression matching the way his words snapped throughout the room.

You tried to hide the shock from your face, but in doing so your confusion seemed to take over instead, “No... But, Gustavo, we don't know where it went since its last destination--”

“Then follow the tracks.”

You leaned back within a second of the sentence catching your ears. Your eyes crinkled, lips curling upwards at the joke... But Gustavo’s expression remained the same.

He was being serious.

“You can't...” Your head slowly rose, your brows remaining furrowed while every other feature had dropped, “Sir, with all do respect, that could take hours. The truck would have already reached wherever those people wanted to take it.”

“And not to mention that wind-- The sand has probably shifted by now.”

The more you spoke, the more you realised that you could say anything and it wouldn't change the way his mind was working right now. He was frustrated, the tension visible in the way his muscles sat.

He wasn't going to listen.

“Then I suggest you start making progress.”

Unbelievable. His tone, the look on his face, the request-- No, the command. It was unbelievable.

Of course, you could understand where he was coming from. You knew what was being transported in those trucks, and you knew what could happen if another business found out how easy it was to take stock from Gustavo Fring.

He had every right to worry about the situation, though he seemed to be too stuck in the possibilities of what could happen.

It was strange to see him like this. You were expecting to see the intimidation tactic you had seen him use more times than you've seen him smile, fuelled by anger which was very common in this line of work.

But as he stood in front of you, the way his body presented itself, the way his face remained in the same expression like he was trying to stop something from appearing. You could see it in his eyes.

Right now, he wasn't angry, he was... scared?

Gustavo Fring was scared.

“What if we don't find it?” you finally spoke up. If he was going to make you do this, he would need to think about all the other possibilities and consequences, “What if we send people out in that desert searching for hours, and the only thing that comes out of it is heatstroke and sunburns? Hmm?”

His eyelids lowered enough that it hadn't really narrowed his gaze, but the movement was visible. The lines closest to his mouth had deepened, and you swore the side of his nose had twitched in way that made it look almost like a snarl. “That truck holds a shipment of something that has any person of the law waiting to strike.”

“If they found it. If the people that took my truck let others know that they have taken my truck... What could happen is endless.”

A sigh huffed through your nose as you looked back at him. This was pointless. The decision to talk to him was pointless.

Maybe he's had a bad day. Maybe being the owner of a business like his had gotten too much this morning and then you just decided to come in later in the day and add onto that.

But now you couldn't just back off. You couldn't apologise, leave and pretend this never happened. You were too far in.

Gustavo was staring right at you. He was stood in place, the breaths that he took now visible in his chest, as the emotions started to attack his facial features.

It was like a standoff. A fight only because two people had an understanding of a situation, just with different perceptions.

Who would've thought.

“I get that... I do, okay-- Just... Look, we have no idea who is behind this, Gus. ” you started up, wanting to fully collected your words before attempting to speak, and Gustavo's head slightly lowered at the phrase, “We don't know if those people are waiting for us to act, and if they are, then we could start something far worse.”

“What we need is more time--”

Out of nowhere, all at once, was this sound that purely rippled through the air as if it was played through a multitude of speakers.

It was something that felt like it had engulfed the room longer that it had rung. Something that had then been followed by a set of words that you were merely guessing came from Gustavo. But you couldn't hear it.

You couldn't hear.

It was only when you tried to look for the source of sudden panic that you noticed that you couldn't properly see either... And that's when you realised.

Your arms were up, your hands held in a way almost lined perfectly with your eyes. Your palms were open, but your fingers were ready to curl as if they needed to ball into a fist.

They were twitching, doing so with every second that went by, until your brain clocked onto the fact that, no. They weren't in fact twitching.

They were shaking.

The movement was almost staggered when your arms finally attempted to lower, and soon you could see over your limbs. Right as Gustavo's hand had removed itself from the desk.

This silence was different.

Your eyes were wide, your heart on a rampage within your chest, by the time your arms stilled at your sides. And despite the movement of Gustavo’s arm, he was frozen as well.

It replayed over and over in your head. The moments prior, the words said, the second you saw something erupt within his eyes. The attention that you had on him seemed to end with your mind missing his movements.

He had slammed his hand on the desk.

His anger had gotten the best of him so much so that it overrode his usual ability to maintain a calm exterior, and though Gustavo still resided behind his desk, you were now stood closer to the door than him.

No words could find themselves flowing through the air. Every attempt Gustavo made, every twitch of his mouth, ended with the same silence.

The two of you could stand in the same opposing position for hours and still no words would be shared.

You had been doing so well.

After however long, the ability to feel began to return throughout your body, and soon your shoulders deflated once again. Like the stance you held upon entering this room, your spine was straightened as much as it could. Your chin rose, expression devoid of any emotion.

Until you smiled.

It was small. Weary, though held in a way to show otherwise. “You're right, Sir.” No matter how many times you swallowed, the lump formed in your throat never ceased, “I'll-- I'll get right to it. Sorry, for the... inconvenience.”

And then you turned, your body stiff enough that you had to actually force it to carry out any sort of movement.

By the time you next blinked the door in front of you was open once again, allowing the cool air in the hallway to meet with your skin. And you began to walk through.

Gustavo's mind was screaming at him to move his legs, to walk round that damn desk and close that door before you could... But what would he even say?

What could he do that hadn’t already been done?

His actions had caused this. His inability, for once, to not control himself ended with you... you thinking that he was going to harm you? Hurt you?

He didn't move. There was a spasm of a muscle throughout multiple parts of his body, but it wasn't enough to set him off. Gustavo remained where he stood, watching as the door to his office slowly closed so that it wouldn't make a sound.

“Oh, come on.”

Nothing.

There was still no sign of that truck. It had been hours since you were first informed of the news and yet there had been barely any progress, no step closer to finding it.

Sure, a multitude of people had been out, wondrously travelling back and forth across the same dirt and sandy road. But it's not like you could follow tracks when you got to the tarmac.

So, you were lost. Unsure of what to do next.

You leaned forward in the chair beneath you, waiting until your elbows could land on the table to stop.

A sigh seeped from your mouth, your hands raising to your face. Your fingers pressed into the sides of your nose, almost touching the corner of your eyes that had been closed.

The room was well ventilated. Cool air flowed around often enough that it could be felt, but it also seemed like the hotness of most places of America was a tough battle to defeat.

Your skin felt clammy despite being indoors, out of direct sunlight. But whenever it got to the point where it was too much, the cold air would complete its cycle. Meeting with your body once again, though it apparently couldn’t ease the warmth of your face.

When another breath was sucked into your lungs, your hands slid from their previous position. They glided to the top of your head, smoothing out the hair beneath, and then followed the back of your skull until they reached the nape of your neck.

Your head sunk a little the moment your fingers began to press down, letting your eyes fall closed all over again.

This was supposed to be your job, something that you were supposed to be good at.

I mean, this wasn't the exact reason that you were hired, but surely you were expected to be able to handle something like this? You should be able to handle something like this.

Yet here you were, sulking in the meeting room of the poultry farm while your team tried and failed again, and again, to find that damn truck.

At this point, you didn't even care to find it because of what was in it, what could happen if some officer stumbled upon the hidden compartments. All you cared about was Gustavo.

If it got to the 24 hour mark, he wasn't exactly going to be happy about it. I mean, he wasn't before when he...

But this was your fault. You were the person that dedicated more time talking to him when the truck was first lost, and maybe that was what made this whole thing worse.

You lost the truck and made Gustavo mad.

Your body was about to give into the urge to slump forward, wanting to lay against the table in a way that might grant the ability to sink both through it and the ground beneath.

But then the door to the room unlatched.

Instead of carrying out any of the wanted movements, you stilled, an attempt to gage any other sounds that may follow more clearly. Though, it proved to be a bit difficult when your ears caught onto a set of footsteps.

Finally, your head rose, the bones of your elbows beginning to ache due to the amount of time they had remained on the table.

Your eyes were almost lazy when they opened once again. You were expecting to see Mike, or other members of your team, coming back to deliver some other form of bad news.

You had not prepared for anyone else.

It took a moment for your vision to focus on the new figure. They had taken a few more steps before they remained in place, even clearing their throat.

Truth be told, your eyes didn't even need to rid themselves of the blurriness to catch onto who it was.

You could recognise that stance from miles away.

In about a second, all the tiredness seemed to drain from wherever it clung both inside and outside of your body. The features on your face relaxed, but your eyes grew wide instead.

You jolted up from the chair you sat on enough so that the back of your knees bumped into it. The legs squealed in an echo as they scraped backwards against the floor, “Sir.”

“Sir, what-- what are you doing here?”

Like before, when the door shut, the surrounding room was engulfed by a silence that was hard to ignore.

Now, the two of you were stood on opposite sides. You were the one behind the desk, while Gustavo was the one waiting to speak.

Despite how you imagined the man presenting himself at this hour, he wasn't in one of those fancy suits that always looked like they were freshly bought. Even if he had them for a long time. He was still in his uniform. Like he had come straight from Los Pollos Hermanos... But he never did that.

Gustavo always changed first.

“What am I doing in my own factory?” The tension wasn't in his face anymore. It had dissipated, leaving behind a much lighter look that settled across his skin and within his eyes.

He even had the slightest smile worn on his lips, but it was hard to tell if it was genuine or the one he usually used to hide.

You cleared your throat, the amount of blinks your eyelids allowed increasing as you processed your past phrasing, “I meant... I mean, I thought you needed to be at the restaurant?”

“All that is awaiting me now is more paperwork.” Gustavo insisted simply, even sounding as if he was about to chuckle through his words, “You don't have to worry about...”

In real time it only happened for about a second, but Gustavo suddenly sort of froze. His lips were parted, the words still urging to roll of his tongue while the skin under his eyes crinkled.

And then his face dropped. It was a subtle movement, one that you had almost missed if it wasn't for the way his gaze narrowed immediately after.

That feeling came back again. Being at the centre of a stage with all the lights shining right on you. Only this time there was no tension, nor fear, created by the attention being put onto you.

Just general confusion.

“Sir?”

The man before you merely hummed to acknowledge your voice, the expression on his face remaining as he started to move forwards.

He was analysing you, taking slow steps closer to the opposite side of the table as if you would take off running if he did it any other way. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Gustavo stilled himself right behind the back of the chair on his side. His posture was the same as it always was, straight as a ruler, though his shoulder looked a little lower than usual. His chin slightly raised.

He could see it. He could see the sort of dullness to your eyes, that seemed to have increased the more the day had drained you of life.

He took in your stance, the rigidness clear within your arms that were held by your sides and sometimes even twitched in a way that made it clear that they wanted to drop down; hang loosely in the air.

Usually the lines of your face weren't visible to the naked eye like Gustavo's were. When you would smile, make a face in response to something, it would bring them out, show them off to whoever was looking until you needed to focus again.

But there they were, carved beneath your eyes in a way that made the skin almost look like someone had pulled on it for hours.

You looked as if you shouldn't have been able to stand without swaying, but there you stood, determined to act any other way than you had earlier.

“Sit down.” It took a minute for even Gustavo to realise the words had left his mouth.

You blinked, the previous reluctance to move further stilling your body regardless of the command. Thus, when you still made no sign of compliance to his words, he even gestured to what you had previously been seated in for further insistence.

“But...” It felt like it took hours for your lips to move for a singular word. It was the most confusing feeling too because you had worked so many shifts like this, so what was the difference? Why were you reacting this way?

You swallowed down the lump in your throat, even if it was going to return either way, your stiff arms now allowing movement as you clasped your hands together in front of you. “I-- I shouldn't have been sitting in the first place, Sir.”

Your eyes weren't on his anymore. Your gaze was sort of mindlessly flickering about as it succumbed to the many thoughts swirling through your head, “I didn't-- I didn't mean to sit in your seat.”

“My seat?” The skin between Gustavo’s eyebrows crinkled. He wasn't angry, or looking at you like you had done the worst thing in the world. It was genuine confusion, “Y/n, that is a plastic, foldable chair.”

“It is not mine, or anyone else's-- It is an object with a purpose that I would hope that you're familiar with.”

He was trying to not be direct this time. The command of telling someone to sit down felt harsh, forceful. He had already been both of those things today.

When there was still no movement, his jaw clenched. There was a quiet breath that seeped through his nose, the cold air almost making it feel like he inhaled water, until he blew it back out.

“Please.”

Maybe it was the difference in attitude that made it hard for you to choose the proper reaction. Earlier he had looked at you with such hatred that even though you weren't the direct cause or reason for it, it still affected you.

But now his gaze was light. It held remnants of the tiredness he always felt after a shift, though he would never tell. You could see the mixture of emotions that stormed as the release from work allowed a genuineness that he couldn't always feel. That he didn't always want.

He wasn't commanding something this time. He was asking.

After another breath filtered through your system, your body finally made the choice to move. You took a step to the side, hearing the way the floorboards creaked beneath your feet. And then you took a seat.

The slight relief was visible within Gustavo's face as you brought the chair a little closer to the table. But like it always did, the look disappeared within a second.

“Now,” By the next time you blinked, resuming your position from earlier, Gustavo had began to walk along the length of the table, “I'm guessing you found Victor and Tyrus?”

Your eyes were on him not matter how fast or slow he decided to move, “Uh, yeah-- Yes, I did.” You watched him move round the edge of the table, aiming towards a set of four cabinets that sat against the wall. Each both a different colour and height, though not by much.

“We followed the tracks as far as we could-- As far as they went.” you insisted, taking a moment to lean your elbow against the table again while Gustavo moved towards a certain cabinet.

“They went onto the main road.” the man concluded as his feet finally stopped. You could hear a slight breath huff out of his lips, his head even tilting a bit before it went right back.

Just in the way it had earlier, the ability to part your lips had become a sort of struggle.

He hadn't shown an ounce of hostility, and even now, as he stood with his back towards you, it should allow you the feeling to speak your mind. But that cautious feeling reappeared like you were dealing with a wild animal.

“Yes.” you finally confirmed regardless of the fact that it felt like your voice was caught in your throat. It was a wonder that the words even left your mouth, “I'm sorry, Sir.”

In about a second, Gustavo had turned his attention. He looked over his shoulder, most of his body still facing the cabinets, until his eyes met your own. “No need to apologise, Y/n.”

“You weren't the one driving that truck.” That was it. The was his only other comment in response to yet another one of your failures before he turned right back to the wall.

“What about Mike?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, your back leaning further into the chair while your gaze remained on whatever he was doing, “Mike? Um... He was the one to figure out which ways the truck turned.”

Gustavo reached for the top of the cabinet farthest to the left. It was a sort of greyish green, contrasting with the carpet and the particular wood the walls were made of.

There was this white fan that sat atop the set of drawers. It was an item that you honestly hadn't realised was there until now, even if it was one of the main reasons that the heat hadn't completely consumed you.

Gustavo's hand moved along the long neck of the object and soon it arrived at the front grill. Though, when he began to shift it, moving it to face more to the right, your train of thought sort of slipped.

“Oh-- Actually I forgot to... tell you, but Mike managed to find an angle from some of our cameras where you could see the number plate.”

Gustavo lowered his arm back down, seeming to get lost in the spinning blades as he just seemed to stand there for a moment, “He found it?”

Your excitement fizzled out almost as fast as it had appeared. Alas, when you thought a piece of information was useful, in reality, you were a step further back than you were before.

Still so far from solving the problem.

“The truck was very fast.” you informed, and that seemed to jump start Gustavo's brain again as he turned away from the cabinet with a slight hum.

“It would disappear by the time you blinked... Too blurry every time we tried to pause it.” He started walking again, following the wall that was now to his right until he got to a table closest to the corner.

This time Gustavo didn't respond as he stopped himself once again. Instead he reached for the divided tray, that was always brought to this room for Mr. Fring himself, the cling film over it crackling when his fingers touched down.

You should’ve known he was coming.

“But he's-- He's working with a few of the guys right now. Trying to see if they can fix it up enough to get a match.”

Once the plastic was peeled back, Gustavo took the tray into one of his hands and lifted it from the surface below before twisting back round. “Good... Good.” he remarked in a way that had your eyebrows yearning to furrow, but your mind lost focus when he chose to walk behind you.

Your body stilled, waiting for him to appear in your peripheral vision once again. But even when he did, your muscles never managed to ease the built tension.

“And what about you?”

Before your eyes could snap towards what could be seen of him, his arm suddenly reached to the side as he rounded table corner closest to where you sat. And now, for whatever reason, the tray that he took was placed right in front of you.

“What about me?” you questioned a little lazily as your mind zoned in on the new presence. There was a different vegetable in each section, cut up smaller than they actually would be so that they would fit. And also because it looked nicer.

“What are you doing?” The clarification allowed your attention to shift and this time, when you got yourself to look up, you found Gustavo stood to the side of table.

The question had you just staring at him for a moment. If he had asked this earlier, your heart would have been pounding in a way that felt like it would come up your throat.

But his tone was normal. One that held nothing but genuineness that conveyed curiosity. Not anger, or burning hatred. He just wanted to know.

Either way, you will admit that it had you almost gulping when you realised it in fact looked like you hadn't been doing anything when Gustavo first walked in.

So, you cleared your throat, “Well, I... I didn't want to stand around while Mike and the other guys did their thing, and Victor took Tyrus with him to gather more information, so.. I decided to wait here at a local point so that people could easily keep me updated.”

On the table, in front of where Gustavo stood, sat two metallic bottles.

“Makes it easier for me to pass it on too.”

The one to the left helped the water within maintain its heat if to be accompanied by a tea bag, or keep a coffee hot. You could even put a hot chocolate in there if wanted.

And the other, the one Gustavo had took in hand, kept the water cool. Useful for days like these, as if you left the water out on the table you could half expect it to start bubbling. “Hmm...”

“Good system.” He reached for the set of tall glasses that sat in front of the bottles. It slid against the uneven surface of the table, slightly managing to scuff up the wood, until it was close enough to Gustavo.

The thumb of his other hand pressed into what you were guessing was a button close to the neck, and soon, the lid clicked; snapping open. All Gustavo had to do was tilt his wrist and then the stream of water began to spill into the glass below. “Any word from... local businesses.”

It was piecing together. A lot of things were. The longer your eyes trained on watching the glass get fuller and fuller, the more points began connecting in your head.

“No.” You blinked, trying to bring back a sense of reality as you attempted to swallow the sudden feeling of thirst. “No one wants to make any moves.”

There was something going on here. Something Gustavo was doing since he entered the room.

If he needed something he would have already asked. He would have immediately sat right down in the chair opposite you and said whatever he needed to say.

But he wanted something.

“I heard that were even hesitant about...” Something that he apparently couldn't get with ease as you watched that glass begin to get dragged in your direction. “About?” Gustavo questioned, his arm slowly extending the further he pushed.

“About...” you repeated, the next few words proving difficult to locate through your mind, “About conducting meetings--”

In a split second, before you could even process it yourself, your elbow rolled until your forearm met with the wooden surface. Your hand barely had to reach out, as within about a second, it was pressing into the oncoming glass, halting it before it could fully get to your side of the table.

“Okay, what is this?”

Gustavo's head snapped in your direction, eyes aimed on your hand that trapped his own against the glass for a good few seconds before his gaze flickered to yours, “I'm trying to give you water.”

“No, not--” you huffed out a breath, fighting the urge to shake your head, as you freed both yours and Gustavo's hand from the grip. “All of this. The-- The pouring me a glass of water, which I can easily do myself. The turning the fan in my direction, even though I made no remarks of wanting that.”

“And this.” You grabbed the tray in front of you, the cling film sticking to your fingers as it still hung on the side, and held it up between the two of you. Your eyebrows were completely furrowed now, “Why did you give me this?”

“There has been no one else who was allowed to even put a hand near it, let alone eat it for themselves,” Gustavo's eyes were practically the only part of his body that moved as the travelled to what you held. “So, now I am asking you.”

“What are you doing?”

That silence was back again, layering across every surface that it could in a way that even made the fan sound loud, while the two of you stared back at each other.

The next breath that he took was heard by your ears. Finally, he removed his hand from the glass, that had begun to feel like it was freezing his skin, letting it remain where it was placed on the table.

His footsteps echoed once again as he begun to slowly move along the side of the table, rounding the next corner so that he could do the same on the next side.

It felt like your heart was in your throat by the time Gustavo had reached the chair opposite you. Even more so when he pulled it from its tucked position.

When the chair was a good distance a way from the table, he sat down, his back straightening in a way it usually did. Which you could never managed to do yourself.

He leant his forearms down onto the table top, his palms flattening against it while the fingers on each hand overlapped, resuming the familiar position that made it seem like you were back in the Los Pollos Hermanos office.

But you weren't.

This was the factory. A place settled far within the middle of no where to the point that you couldn't hear those cars anymore. You couldn't hear the chatter of customers, or the people working away in the kitchen.

The only thing that met your ears were your own breaths. And Gustavo's which were steady, though the look in his eyes told you something different.

“There are... a lot of things that need to be said...” He was almost nervous, the fingers pressed onto each other begging to twitch the longer your gaze stayed on him, “And yet, I forget that a voice is needed for that.”

For once, Gustavo didn't care how he felt. He didn't care about the argument, or that damn truck, even if it still made him anxious to think about what could happen.

But even then, the consequences wouldn't just effect him. They would damage his employees for both this business and the restaurant, which could then extend to their families, and that meant that it would end up at your feet.

This situation wasn't just about him.

It was about you.

“Y/n, I don't want to make you uncomfortable by sitting here, and talking at you about... what happened.” There was no name for that moment. No word to accurately convey the events, how it made either of you feel.

Still, it was like your body wanted to shy away from the singular mention of it.

“But, I can't ignore it.”

You wanted to get up. Wanted to move through the room as fast as you could and just bolt out that door, “Sir, we have more important things to talk about--”

“No.” His voice was louder than before. It wasn't enough to echo, or make you almost jump out of your skin, but it was a sound that had your mouth snapping shut. “No, we do not.”

It was like he was staring into your soul. As if he could read every thought that so much as passed through your mind, even just for a second.

“A truck is a truck. You are a person, living and breathing.” Gustavo continued, this unwavering insistence held within each word, “A person who, even after... wrongful treatment, stayed working hours on end for my benefit.”

Your head was shaking before the sentence had finished, “You didn't... Sir, this is my job.” No matter the difference in conversation topics, or the change of reasoning, your eyebrows always remained furrowed.

“Sure. Your job is whatever I say it should be,” Gustavo began, the slightest shrug shifting his shoulders, “But do you know how many people would have quit if I told them to do what you did?”

The nerves within your system had fizzled out at this point. “So what? Were you trying to to test me?” The only thing rampant through your veins was the exhaustion. A feeling that would soon lead to frustration, “Trying to find a weak spot to see if you needed to let me go?”

“No, I'm trying to say that there is no one else here like you.”

Your back pressed further into the chair you sat on, the upper half of your body almost slumping with it, “Mike could easily do what I did today.”

“Maybe so,” Gustavo did the opposite, he leaned forwards. And this time when he spoke, his voice was filled with this simplicity that it almost annoyed you, “But doing it without complaining? No... No, I do not think so.”

“Gustavo,” One of your hands raised to your face, while your head shook, in a way that sort of squashed your nose.

Your fingers rubbed at the muscles, trying to ease the tension that had begun to ache, and then your hand lowered so that you could look at the man across the table once again. “Are you going to give me a medal? A gold star? I was just doing my job--”

“And I am just trying to-” Gustavo caught himself. He let his lips fall closed, and so did his eyes while a breathing sucked through his nostrils. Though, when the breath cycled back out, they opened like before.

“This morning. What I asked... What I forced you to do-- The way that I spoke.” Gustavo's brows lightly crinkled. There was this look on his face while his head lightly shook, like he could see the past events right in front of him, “It was completely unacceptable.”

“I am... very sorry for what I caused.”

Your hands lay still in your lap, your fingers gripped onto the edges of your shirt as you stared back at Gustavo. “You didn't...” you started, almost forgetting that you could speak in a way that made you pause for a moment, “You didn't do anything.”

Gustavo nodded his head without a second to waste. “I did.”

The expression on his face remained regardless of how much time passed. His gaze flickered, his iris jumping from side to side, up and down, as if he was scanning every feature he could see. “I don't... I don't know what has happened in your life. And I don't need you to tell me.”

“But I know what I saw.”

You wanted to look away. Wanted to look down at the surface of the table below and let your mind zone in on the discolouration of the wood, or the difference in texture.

But you couldn't. You couldn’t move your eyes away from his face, the look on it that was such a thing that you had never seen it before. At least not on Gustavo.

“What I am trying to say-- What...” He took in a deep breath, attempting to unscramble the words in his head. And for the first time, you recognised the look of tiredness that washed of his features.

Or maybe it had been there all along.

“There is only one thing I want from you. One thing that I want to ask.” he finally managed out, and though their was clear frustration over the struggle, he spoke in such a careful way. Correcting himself of his past mistake.

“Okay.” Your voice was just above a whisper. In all honesty, it didn't feel like the sound was going to get passed your throat. But it did. And now, there was this look of relief that almost cleared the lines of Gustavo's face.

His back straightened, something you didn't even notice that he had to do.

“Will you work for me?”

Your eyebrows furrowed like they had many times before. Your head slightly tilted to the side, lips about to part in a way that Gustavo seemed to predict. “Not for the business. Or the company-- Not for any other person...”

“Just me.”

It felt like one of those jokes that took too long to understand. A phrasing of words that everybody else could get within a second. But not you. The most you could do was stare back at him. “What for?”

“Whatever you would like, I just-- Today made me realise a lot of things.” Gustavo began to lean backwards until his back was pressed against the chair. “I get so caught in what people do, what they say, that I only react for myself.”

“I am controlled by my own wants and needs, but my ability to react, or to feel, has only been allowed because of you.” The way his eyes crinkled, the upturn of a corner of his mouth. He was trying to be serious, but there was something else peeking through. “What you have done for the business, for me, surrounds us everyday, and...”

Suddenly, the expression on his face drained. Whatever sentence was about to roll off of his tongue got put on hold in a way that made you almost want to look around for whatever caused it. But then Gustavo cleared his throat.

He almost looked... shy.

“I... I do realise that the timing of this makes it sound like I'm trying to bribe you.”

It had felt like it had been the longest time since the urge to smile had tugged at your own lips. And at this point it was almost a strange feeling. You shook your head, “No, I get it.”

For the first time in what felt like days, the corners of Gustavo’s lips allowed themselves to curl. He looked down, nodding at your assurance that visibly eased his mind.

Finally, the two of you were on the same page.

“What I know... What I see is that there is a difference in a lot of things when you are in charge.” His voice oozed with a sincerity. It was this genuine and confident sound, like he had seen whatever he was a million times before.

With his next words, when he had mustered up the courage that was usually so easy for him to utilise, his eyes found your own set across the table, “When the mornings comes back, there is want to get through the stages of a day instead of a need to.”

His gaze swirled with an intensity, something that he almost looked confused about, unsure of how to deal with. And either, it was because he had never felt it before, or it had been a very long.

“I want you to work with you by my side.” It was insistent at this point. The way he sounded, the tone he used, the look on his face. Gustavo wasn’t asking anymore. It was a want.

A need.

It clicked. In a second, that very feeling sort of faded after his phrasing settled within his own ears. He was thinking about himself again. Acting based off of what his mind was telling him to do.

So, Gustavo’s back straightened, his head rose high and the expression on his face returned to the usual one he held when needing to deal with business. “If you would want that.”

It didn’t matter how tired you were. It didn’t matter what you had been doing all day, or the way your bones were practically aching by now. In fact, it was like your mind had completely forgotten that there was even a world outside the room you were in.

Right now, you were looking at Gustavo Fring. A man who was feared by many, not just because of his job. A man who was fuelled by the want for revenge, to seek justice for things no matter what extent he had to go to for it.

Yet here he was, sat on the opposite of the table he usually ruled at, naked under your unmoving gaze.

There was no part of you that wanted to leave the room anymore. No part that wanted to succumb nerves that told you to avoid the eye contact, and his presence all together.

When you finally spoke, finding the voice that felt like it was going to falter like a flickering candle, it was the fullest it had been all day, “Yes.”

No fear. No want to run for the hills and never come back. You remained in your seat.

Gustavo fought for control of the muscles beneath his brows as they nagged to pinched together. He was nodding again, fully processing your confirmation in a way that allowed him to properly breath again.

And, for the first time in what felt like months at this point, the two of you were smiling at each other.

After all, it was just a truck.

“I would.”

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