#i'm talking INTENSE FLUFF

[agxxb]

Prettier Than a Star (pt2) .𖥔 ݁ ˖

rafe cameron x f!reader

summary: after you and rafe hooked up, he couldn’t stop thinking about you… good thing you couldn’t get him out of your mind either.

warnings: smut. fluff. rafe is a sweetheart & lowkey whipped for reader. possessive!rafe. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), vaginal fingering. use of pet names (baby, babe, sweetheart). praise. best friend’s brother. one mention of y/n. [3k]

read part one here!

Rafe had spent the past few days thinking about you. He couldn’t get you out of his head, couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked, the way you felt, the way you sounded. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face, every time he touched his skin, he felt your hands.

But it wasn’t just lust. He tried to ignore it, tried to tell himself that it was just a fling, that it was nothing more than physical, but there was something about you that he just couldn’t get out of his head, that he couldn’t shake off.

He had tried to stay away, to put some distance between you, but he couldn’t get you out of his mind. You were like a drug: addictive, intoxicating, all-consuming — and he needed another hit. He tried to distract himself, tried to keep himself busy, but it was no use. You were under his skin, invading his thoughts, making him feel things he didn't even know he could feel. He had never felt this way about anyone before, a need so intense it was like you were a narcotic.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Sarah asked her brother as she entered the kitchen, heading towards the fridge to grab a cold bottle of water.

Her voice startled Rafe, the boy looking up from his laptop with wide eyes. He relaxed after seeing who it was, scowling and moving his attention back to the bright screen in front of him.

“Nothin’,” he muttered gruffly, but the tension in his body betrayed him, his jaw tight.

He didn't want to talk, didn't want to explain why he was in such a bad mood, because she still didn’t know about what had happened between the both of you. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to appear indifferent, but he couldn't hide his irritability.

Sarah knew not to push Rafe’s buttons, knowing she could be on the receiving end if he snapped, but she also knew him well enough to know that ‘nothing’ was almost always something. She simply hummed in response, taking a sip of her water and looking at him over the bottle.

Rafe shot his sister a glare, his irritation growing. "I'm not in the mood for your bullshit."

Before Sarah could reply, his phone buzzed. Glancing down at the device, his finger hovered over the new message.

𝙉𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝘽𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙚𝙣?

Rafe’s eyes widened once again, though this time it was in surprise. He hadn’t expected to hear from you, let alone receive a message asking to meet up. He clicked on the notification, thumbs tapping away at the screen as he quickly wrote out a reply and sent it.

Shutting his laptop – and not bothering to turn it off – he stood from his place at the kitchen island and put his phone in the front pocket of his jeans.

Rafe's reaction to the text message did not go unnoticed by Sarah, she couldn't help but feel intrigued, tilting her head slightly in curiosity. "Who was that?"

“None of your business,” he said, tone somewhat harsh. However, he knew that was a lie. With you being her best friend, Sarah had every right to know… but he couldn’t tell her.

Your hands shook as you typed out the message. You hadn’t stopped thinking about Rafe since his party: the way he looked, the way he felt, the way he sounded… You knew you shouldn’t be feeling the way you did, but you couldn’t help it — and that only added to the guilt you felt.

Your heart raced as you awaited his response. You couldn't shake the feeling that clawed at hour stomach, couldn't ignore the little voice in your head telling you that what you was doing was wrong. The guilt you felt when you thought about Sarah, his sister, your best friend, only made everything worse. You knew that you were crossing a line that you shouldn’t, that you were betraying her, but you couldn’t help it.

You felt something for him, and you needed to know if it was reciprocated.

A few moments went by without any word from him, and you began to regret sending the message. Just as you went to delete it, your phone dinged — a new message. You picked it up, seeing Rafe’s name on your screen with his response below it.

𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣.

When you read his reply, a flutter of excitement washed over you, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. You put your phone down and took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You knew you should be feeling penitent, but all you could feel was excitement at the prospect of seeing him again.

Ten minutes felt like ten hours as you waited anxiously, tapping your fingers against your thigh out of habit. You didn’t know what to expect, what to say, how to act, but you knew that you needed to see him, needed to talk to him.

About fifteen minutes went by before you heard a knock at your door, your heart leaping into your throat. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and stood up slowly. Every step you took towards the door felt like an eternity, your legs feeling weak, your knees like jelly. You reached for the handle, taking a deep breath before opening the door.

You could feel the tension in the air, the electricity between you. For a moment, neither of you said anything, you just stood there, looking at each other. Finally, he spoke up, breaking the silence.

"Hey.” His voice was low and rough, though simultaneously soft and affectionate.

"Hi," you replied, doing your best to keep your voice steady. "Come in."

Rafe gave you a small smile as he stepped through the doorway, his body moving with confident grace. You closed the door behind him, feeling his presence fill the small space, consuming you completely.

He stood there with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders relaxed, expression unreadable. He didn’t say anything, just watched you with an intensity that made your heart race.

You lead him up to your bedroom, not wanting a million and one questions if your parents ended up coming back whilst he was at yours. As soon as you walked through the door, he closed it behind him, almost trapping you in with him. The space suddenly felt small and intimate, filled with the tension that crackled between you.

You walked over to sit on your bed, watching him glance around your bedroom. It was the first time a boy had ever seen your room, and you were somehow comfortable with it, despite knowing your parents would freak out.

Rafe took in every detail of your room: the soft, floral-patterned duvet on the bed, the fluffy pillows, the framed photos of you and your family… He couldn’t explain the feeling in his chest as he looked around, a strange mixture of possessiveness and belonging.

“It’s very you,” he said as he turned around, his gaze finally landing on you, sitting on the bed, your legs crossed in front of you. A small smile found home on his lips as he spoke, and you blushed a little at his words, his observation.

"You think so?" you asked, your voice soft as your eyes met his. You couldn’t help but return the gesture, a gentle smile of your own curving your lips. Rafe nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans to keep himself from reaching out and touching you.

He walked over to you, sitting down on the side of the bed, in front of you. He took a deep breath before he spoke. "Why’d you ask me to come over?"

The question he ask brought back the nervousness you were feeling earlier, and you hesitated for a moment before responding. "I… I needed to talk to you," you said, your voice quiet but steady.

“So talk.”

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. You’d wanted to talk to him, but now that he was here, sitting in front of you, waiting for you to say something, you felt a little unsure of yourself.

“I think…” you began, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You took another deep breath before your rambling started. “I think I like you. Well, I’m pretty sure I do, but I’m scared because I overthink a lot. I can’t stop thinking about how I’m basically betraying Sarah and if you didn’t feel the same way, I could ruin two friendships that I really cherish all because I-”

Before you could continue, you felt his lips on yours, cutting off your endless string of words.

Rafe had watched as you rambled, his expression softening ever so slightly. He had expected a lot of things when you asked him to come over, but admitting to liking him hadn’t been one of them.

The moment his lips touched yours, all your thoughts vanished, replaced by the intense sensations flooding through you. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, all you could do was feel. His palms were against your cheek, his thumbs gently stroking your jaw, whilst your hands found their place on his wrists.

He pulled away just enough to speak, his voice a rough whisper. “You need to stop talking, babe.” The nickname, coupled with his gravelly voice and intense gaze, sent a shiver of pleasure through your body. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the party.”

His eyes were full of affection as he looked at you, a gentle smile on his face that held nothing but adoration. He ran his fingers along your jawline, tracing your features like they were delicate, something to be treasured.

“Really?” you asked, voice but a whisper and laced with surprise and curiosity.

Rafe slowly dragged his thumb over your lower lip, his touch gentle. “You’ve got no idea what you’ve been doing to me,” he said, voice softer than you had ever heard it. “Can’t think straight when I’m around you. Can’t concentrate on anything else but you.”

Your made him feel strangely vulnerable, a feeling he wasn't used to, but at the same time, he found that he didn't mind it that much. He was so used to being used, being treated like a prize to be won or an accessory to be flaunted. But now, with you, he found that he actually wanted more than just a meaningless fling.bHe didn't know how to handle these new feelings, but one thing was sure — he wasn't going to mess it up.

You suddenly leaned down and captured his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. You didn’t verbally agree on what this meant for you both, but you didn’t need to. You deserved so much more than someone like him, but he wanted you, and he didn't want to let you go.

Rafe Cameron wanted to be selfish — an action he was used to.

He moaned against your mouth, one of his hands leaving your face and moving down to your waist, gently squeezing. His body twisted round slightly, his front now facing you as he leaned closer to you and deepening the kiss.

The sound of his moan sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt a sense of pride that you could make him feel something. His hand on your waist was firm, almost possessive as he squeezed, the heat of his body seeping through your clothes.

His tongue ran along your lower lip, silently asking for access, and you parted your lips for him, allowing him to explore your mouth. The kiss grew more urgent, more desperate, and you soon found yourself with your head on your pillow, Rafe hovering above you.

Rafe groaned against your lips as your leg brushed against his hardening cock, the feeling sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at you, his voice low and guttural as he spoke. "You feel that? You feel what you do to me?"

Rafe’s lips trailed down over your jawline, down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and small love bites as he went. “You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, breath hot against her skin. “And I’d tell you every day… if you’ll have me.”

You nodded, filled with emotion at his sweet way of asking. “Every day sounds good to me.” Placing your hands against his cheeks and bringing his face back to yours, you captured his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. You let out a soft moan against Rafe’s lips.

He loved the sounds that escaped your lips and the way you arched into his touch. It fueled his desire for you even more, knowing that he was the one making you feel this way.

He kisses across your cheek before he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips trailing kisses down your sensitive flesh, his free hand roaming down your body. You giggled as he did so, bringing your hands up to rest on his back. "That tickles!"

He continued his assault on your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses and love bites across your sensitive skin. A low, gravelly chuckle vibrated from his throat as he heard you giggle, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah?" he murmured, his rough, deep voice low in your ear as his lips moved to another sensitive spot, his tongue darting out to tease your skin.

Your giggles turned into a soft moan, your eyes closing as you relished in the pleasure Rafe was giving you. He licked and sucked on you skin, leaving his mark on your neck — letting every one know who you belong to: Rafe Cameron.

Rafe lowered his hand from your waist, his fingers working deftly against the buttons of your shirts before his hand reached in. You moaned as his thumb came into contact with your puffy clit, biting your lip as your head tilted back.

Rafe moved away from your neck, eyes flickering down your lips. “Nuh uh, Sweetheart. Wanna hear you.” You let your lip go, letting it bounce softly back into place. “Good girl.”

Your eyes rolled back when you felt two of his fingers enter you, stretching you out. You were so wet, they slid in easily, not a sting of pain in sight. “Fuck!” you moaned when he curled them, his fingertips rubbing against that spot inside you.

Rafe suddenly reached up and cupped your face in one hand, his thumb stroking gently over your cheek, "Look at me,” he ordered, though his voice held no bitterness. You did as was told, looking up into his blue eyes whilst yours watered in pleasured. “That’s it, baby. Feel good?”

“So good,” you whispered, hand squeezing his bicep.

Rafe’s movements suddenly stopped and you whined in disappointment. “When I ask you a question, I expect to hear the answer.”

“Feels so good, Rafe,” you spoke louder, a moan quickly following as he started fucking you with his fingers. “So fucking good…”

“You belong to me,” Rafe mumbled, seemingly to himself despite also talking to you. He wasn't used to ever being possessive, especially over a person, but the thought of you belonging to anyone else pissed him off. “Say it. Say you belong to me.”

“I belong to you, Rafe,” you cried out, looking up at the man above you and his fingers moved faster. “I’m yours.”

“Damn fucking right you are.”

Rafe suddenly removed his fingers and got off your bed to unbuckle his belt. The clanging caught your attention, and your mouth watered as you watched him pull it from the loops of his jeans — which were next to leave, his shirt following after.

He crawled back over you, claiming your mouth with his as he kissed you deeply. His hand moved to your bottoms, hooking his fingers on the edge and pulling both your shorts and underwear down at the same time. He pressed his forehead to yours. “You want this?”

“So badly,” you begged, nodding against him. Your hands came back up to his back — touching the bare skin this time. “Please, baby.”

"Yeah?” Rafe placed his hands on your stomach, pushing your top up as his hands went higher. He cupped your tits, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. You nodded again, reaching a hand down to stroke his cock, thumb rubbing over the head to collect the pre-cum. His eyes fluttered closed, a moan leaving him. “Fuck.”

He gently slapped your hand away, replacing it with his own and guiding himself to your entrance. Your eyes rolled back when he pushed forward, sinking into your warmth. Your nails dug into his biceps as he pulled back, only to thrust back into you.

“Damn," he groaned. "You feel so good, baby. So damn good.” He rested his forehead on yours again, watching himself disappear into you with every movement of his hips, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he felt you, all of you.

One of his hands moved to your throat, adding just enough pressure — the way you like. “Just like that,” you moaned, your legs wrapped around his waist so he could go deeper, ankles crossed at his lower back.

Rafe wanted to see your face while he was inside you, wanted to see the look on your face as he made you feel nothing but pleasure. He used the hand around your throat to nudge your chin upwards, you getting the hint. You did as he wanted, your bottom lip caught between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. He groaned as he looked at your face, his eyes roaming over your features, taking in every little expression, every little sound that escaped your lips.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck, his hips speeding up, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. He suddenly pressed his lips to your neck as he mumbled against your skin, "God, I can't get enough of you."

He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, the sensations mounting as he continued to move with you, his force gradually increasing. He nipped at your skin, his teeth sinking in just enough to leave a small mark. He wanted to claim you, to mark you as his, to leave a physical reminder that you belonged to him.

"Need you to fill me up," you moaned, pleading with him. It was a need, not a want. You loved feeling him cum inside you last time, and you didn’t know how you went so long without it. "Please."

His breath caught in his throat as he heard your words, his body reacting immediately. He pinned you down onto the bed, his voice low and guttural, "You want that?"

"Need it," you cried, tears welling in your eyes from the pleasure Rafe was giving you. He could sense you were on the edge, and he knew exactly what you needed, what you craved.

He started moving faster, his hips snapping against the backs of your thighs in a firm, steady rhythm. He was so close to the edge, he just needed to hear you say it one more time...

"You're mine, baby. Say it."

"I'm yours, Rafe," you clung onto him, letting out a loud moan as his thumb found your clit again — the little bundle of nerves swollen and begging for attention. “All yours.”

He felt a primal satisfaction surge through him as he listened to you speak, and his thrusts got faster, less controlled. Your legs started to shake, so close to the edge, and your fingernails dug into the skin of his back, scratching down it once again and leaving bright red marks in their wake.

"You're all mine," he grunted against your skin.

"Yes, yes, yes!"

A loud moan ripped through your throat as you came undone around him, head thrown back against your pillow and eyes squeezed closed.

Rafe felt you squeeze him, the sensations sending him over the edge. He let out a guttural groan as he came, pushing himself as deep as he could go and burying his face in the crook of your neck as he shuddered. He couldn't speak for a few moments, his body going boneless as he collapsed on top of you. He was completely shaken, his body quivering from the force of his orgasm.

He lay like that for a moment, trying to catch his breath as it left him in ragged gasps. He eventually spoke, his voice low and gravelly, "Damn, baby. That was..."

"Incredible."

The two of you basked in each other’s arms, sweat dripping down your bodies. You were feeling relaxed, content in Rafe’s arms… until you heard the front door open.

“Y/N, we’re back!”

[evie-sturns]

avoid - Matt Sturniolo

summary: when matt calls you out on you pushing him away, until a huge fight breaks out between the two of you. a couple hours later you find him a mess, you have no choice but to make things right.

contains: angst, crying, arguing, yelling, fluff, comforting, swearing.

------------------------------------------------------------

you didn't realise you were doing it, you just were.

you had accidentally been avoiding him and pushing him away for the past couple of weeks, there wasn't a specific reason but you just were.

9:04pm

i'm laying on the couch alone, watching some random romcom as i stare at the screen.

the floorboards creak as i hear matt coming down the hallway, his footsteps are heavy as he approaches the living room.

he stands in the doorway, just observing me for a couple of seconds.

i hear his lips part as he gets ready to speak.

"y/n..?" he mutters softly, his voice is weak and shy.

i hum quietly as a response, not even diverting my gaze away from the bright screen. i hear matt huff slightly, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"what- why- can you at least look at me when im speaking?" matt scoffs.

"what difference does it make?" i mumble back, still staring at the television.

"makes me think you might actually give a shit about me still." matt spits, his arms fold over his chest as he leans against the doorway,

"pfft." i dismiss him which only sets matt off even more.

"why are you acting like this? seriously!" matt exclaims,

"why are you being so sensitive." i groan,

i know i’m being annoying as shit, but i can’t help it, i’m just doing what i can to tick him off.

matt just stares at me, his breathing heavy as i see him visibly start fuming.

“you wanna know what it is? you’ve been acting like a total stranger for the past couple months and i’m done with it, i’m done with you.” matt raises his voice

i stand up off the couch, standing a couple feet away from matt as i lock eyes with him,

“me? i’ve been acting like i stranger?” i laugh dryly, not cause this situation is amusing, i’m just in shock.

“yes! you’ve been treating me like crap for the past too long!” matt keeps his voice raises,

i point my finger at his chest as i walk closer to him, “you cannot be serious? i literally do everything for you? i gave up so many things for more time with you!”

“i didn’t ASK you to do that! nobody did!” he scoffs loudly, grabbing my wrist and yanking it away from his chest.

“so it meant nothing to you? clearly you’re not appreciating my love for y-“

matt cuts me off,

“don’t even. you’re trying to make me feel bad when i’m literally trying to talk to you about my feelings!”

his eyes are narrow slits now, his fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist.

“let me go, now.” i mutter angrily,

“just listen to me!” he spits, moving his hand off of my wrist to grab my shoulders,

he jolts me back and forth harshly,

“i fucking hate this new attitude of yours, you’re the most self centred bitch ever!” matt shouts,

his voice booms through my living room, making my heart race quicken.

“would you just shut up- shut up!” i scream,

matt shoves me back gently, not enough to actually hurt me, just enough to get his point enough.

“you’re just- you’re just being ridiculous?” matt mutters, turning on his heels and walking away from me.

“i fucking hate you! i hope you get that through your thick head!” i snap

i didn’t mean it.

not at all.

i was so angry, just doing anything i could to be mean.

i hear matt’s heavy footsteps as he walks up the stairs, followed by the door slamming shut.

i flop down on the couch, running a hand through my hair as i pant.

i don’t know why i said any of that.

(35 minutes later)

i’ve just been thinking for the past half hour, about things i shouldn’t have said, things i shouldn’t of done.

i’ve held back all my emotions, feeling somewhat numb, except for the intense feeling of guilt gnawing away at me

the whole house has been eerily silent, usually it would be filled with matt and i’s endless giggles, but it’s not.

i stand up off the couch, my legs somewhat wobbly and my stomach churning with immense guilt.

i need to talk to him,

i drag my feet over to the bottom of the stairwell, knowing matt’s at the top of the stairs, locked away in our bedroom.

one step,

after another,

i slowly walk up the stairs.

my heart pounds against my rib cage, not knowing what matt would say, nor think, when he saw me in the doorway,

the same person that just screamed at him, making him believe that i hated him.

i reach his door, my hand stalling on the doorknob as i let out a soft sigh.

i couldn’t bring myself to just twist the doorknob, my hand was lightly shaking.

i swallow harshly before twisting the knob,

i stand in the doorway, looking around the dimly lit room.

there’s a discomforting feeling in the air, the room is cold.

my eyes search around the room until they land on matt.

he’s laying down on the bed, his back facing me and his still.

is he asleep?

“matt..?” i call out quietly, my voice breaking.

i walk over to the bed, my footsteps light.

suddenly i hear him,

a choked sob escapes him.

he’s crying?

i made him cry,

matt’s never cried infront of me before

and i’m the reason he now has.

“baby- are you crying-?” i whisper, reaching down and brushing his hair away from his eyes. he shivers at my touch, rolling over so his face is buried in the pillow.

i quickly crawl into bed beside him.

“please- please don’t cry-“ i mutter, my tone is panicked as i reach for him.

i sit up against the headboard as he stays buried in the pillows beside me, letting out strangled sobs.

“please look at me- darling i am so sorry, seriously.” i speak softly, my voice just loud enough so it’s audible to him

“matt, look at me please.” i say, my tone shaky as my voice cracks again.

he gently lifts his face from the pillows,

i take the opportunity to grab him, and tug him to sit up beside me.

i run my hands through his messy hair, he looks like a wreck, i feel terrible.

his eyes are swollen, his lips are a deep red and puffy and tears roll down his pale cheeks.

i grab his hands, “matt,” i sigh, “y-you’re killing me.”

matt stares down at the bed, “can- can i have a hug?” he whispers with a small hiccup.

“of course you can have a hug.” i sigh, wrapping my arms around him and pulling his body flush against mine.

i hold him close to me as i lay down on the bed, his head buried in my chest.

he sniffs shakily as he just cries, letting everything out.

i can still feel the undeniable tension in the air,

we’re both so angry at eachother still, it’s hard not to be after argument like that.

“hey, it’ll be okay- we’ll be okay.” i whisper, running my fingers through his locks of hair.

he lets out another sob against me, the noise making my heart break.

“you’re gonna make me cry.” i whisper with a small sigh, holding the back of his head gently.

“sorry.” he sniffles.

i hold him in my arms, whispering small words of affirmation while matt slowly starts to calm down.

i fight back the tears in my eyes as i attempt to stay strong for him.

“could we- talk maybe?” matt sniffs, wiping his eyes on my shirt before slowly lifting himself away from me.

he sits up on the headboard beside me, his legs outstretched and his hands still gently shaking.

“i think we need to.” i nod,

we both sit in silence for a second, waiting for one person to start.

“i know i was-“ i start but matt interrupts me,

“can i go first- i just want to tell you… how i’ve been feeling.” he rambles, his voice cracking.

i nod, “yeah..”

matt starts,

“i mean it when i say you’ve been stupidly distant for the past months, everytime i try to initiate anything with you, i just get brushed off, all of our conversations are shallow and i can’t tell if you actually care about me anymore!”

i stare at him as he rambles, trying to take all of his words to heart without getting mad again.

“i love you so much, and it’s hurting me to see you slowly drift away from me, i just want to know what i did wrong..?” he follows on, swallowing harshly,

i nod slightly, my lips parting to speak but no words coming out.

“i’m not trying to push you away matt.” i whisper,

he goes to speak but i interrupt, “i think it’s just a mix of everything, i’m just so exhausted with work after half my coworkers quit, i’ve been working long hours and i don’t mean to push you away, i swear.” i ramble on,

matt nods slightly with understanding, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“i love you so much matt, and i’m trying to do better, i promise.” i finish,

matt just looks at me, before finally nodding.

he lets out a breath, one that i can tell took a weight off his shoulders.

“i’m sorry about the argument.” matt says,

i shake my head, “no i was being a pain on purpose, it could’ve been avoided if i acted differently.”

“i came at you with like a confronting tone- i should’ve approached it better.” he speaks,

“and i also shouldn’t have laid my hands on you, i didn’t mean for it to ever get physical..” matt whispers, his eyebrows furrowing as he breaks eye contact with me,

“it’s okay, i needed it-“ i try to defend his actions but he cuts me off,

“no- no that was a shitty thing for me to do, i feel super guilty about it.” he sighs,

the room goes silent, my heart aches as i try to apologise for that one thing i said, the 3 words that exited my mouth, which is now eating me alive.

“i’m sorry- for saying i hate you.. i- i don’t i swear, it wasn’t true at all i was just saying it to make you mad- i promise, i love you more than life itself.” i spit it out.

matt’s gaze softens,

my eyes well up with tears, “i shouldn’t have said that, i’m so sorry-“ i whisper out,

matt reaches his hands up to my face, his hands caressing my cheeks and his thumbs wipe my eyes quickly.

“no tears.” he gently coos,

“i’m so sorry- i fucked up so bad-“ i continue, but matt cuts me off.

he presses his lips to mine, his hands still firmly on the sides of my face.

he rolls us over so he’s ontop of me, keeping our lips connected.

i kiss back, distracting myself from the swirling thoughts in my head.

after a few moments he pulls away from my lips with a small ‘pop’.

a warm smile appears on his face as he peppers kisses all over my face.

i squirm with a giggle as his pecks kisses all over me, before pressing a final peck to my lips.

“we’ll always talk things out next time, i promise this won’t happen again.” he whispers comfortingly, his hands gently running through my hair.

i nod in agreement, “i love you.”

“love you too sweetie.” he whispers, before going back to peppering kisses all over my face.

-

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[bywons]

MORE THAN PRETEND 愛｡ fake relationship

𝖫𝖠𝖢𝒪𝖭𝖨𝖢───tired of playing pretend, they want to make it official with you

𝑜𝑓 ܃ fake bf!enhypen x f!r 2739 𝑤𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 headcannons fluff fake dating au ── 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 skinship kissing jealousy suggestive? ｡｡｡ ／ ( 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒 )

૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა wow this could've been better, i rushed a lil TT but hope you guys enjoy ^^ !

reb𝑙ogs& ˊᗜˋ 𝑓eedbacks

LEE HEESEUNG

heeseung’s always been the cool, nonchalant type—someone who can laugh off pretty much anything with that easygoing smirk of his. so, when one of your guy friends throws a casual arm around your shoulders during a group hangout, you expect heeseung to ignore it or joke in to the gossip, at least that's what he should do since you're not his real girlfriend. instead, he goes silent, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he watches the interaction with a clenched jaw.

the shift is subtle, but you know him too well. he doesn’t move from where he’s leaning against the wall, but the way his gaze follows your every move is unnerving.

“you good?” you ask, stepping closer after the gathering got over, and tugging lightly on his sleeve. his eyes snap to yours, and for a second, something almost dangerous flickers behind them before he masks it with a tight-lipped smile.

“yeah, i'm good.” his voice is flat, the usual playful tone gone. “didn't know you two were that close.”

you arch an eyebrow, tilting your head. “what, jealous?” you tease, hoping to break the tension, cracking him a smile.

heeseung lets out a humourless chuckle, his gaze sliding back to where your friend was standing. “of him? please.” the words are dismissive, but there’s a sharp edge underneath. heeseung finally pushes off the wall and closes the distance between you, his tall frame towering over yours as he dips his head down, his hand slowly caressing your upper hand. “but just so you know,” he murmurs lowly, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that only you can hear, “i’m your boyfriend, even if it’s fake. he doesn’t get to touch you like that.”

before you can respond, he pulls you into his chest, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist. the way he holds you is different—no teasing, no joking, just a raw, simmering intensity that makes your heart race.

PARK JONGSEONG

calm and collected are two adjectives that can define jay the best, a total gentleman— a perfect choice to play your fake boyfriend, the best fake plus one for your uncle's wedding. but tonight, at the party, you see his mask slip. it’s subtle at first—the way his eyes harden when he spots you talking to some random guy by the drinks table, swiftly turning his head away. he doesn't think much of it until the guy leans in closer, saying something that makes you laugh.

that’s when jay moves. he’s at your side in an instant, so swift you down even realise his imposing presence as he slides an arm around your shoulders. “hey,” he says, his voice light but his grip firm. “who’s your new friend?”

you blink, caught off guard by the sudden change in his demeanour. “oh, uh—a family friend,” you answer, a tight lipped smile, but jay’s gaze doesn’t leave the guy’s face.

“right.” his smile is strained, more of a baring of teeth than an expression of friendliness. the guy glances between you and jay, looking a bit uncomfortable before mumbling an excuse and walking away.

as soon as he’s gone, jay pulls you closer, his hand slipping down to your waist, fingers digging in ever so slightly, your back hitting his chest. “next time,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, hot breath travelling softly down to your neck, “just tell him you have a boyfriend—me.” his voice is low and intense, vibrating through you.

your heart skips a beat. “jay, it’s not—”

“real? yeah, i know,” he cuts you off, turning you to face him. his dark eyes bore into yours, darting across your face real quick, resring on your lips. “but i don’t care. i don’t want anyone else thinking they have a chance with you,” he leans in even closer, his lips almost touching yours, “even if this is just pretend… you’re mine.”

SIM JAEYUN

the party is loud, laughter and music filling the air as you stand awkwardly by the punch table, watching jake from a distance. he’s talking to someone, a girl with long hair and a smile that lights up her face. his ex. you bite your lips, feeling a dull ache in your chest. it's silly—you’re not even really dating, but seeing him so at ease with her, leaning in to listen, his familiar grin in place, makes your heart clench, makes you feel it was you making his heart flutter instead.

they look like a perfect couple. a real couple, with real feelings for each other.

you turn away, trying to shake off the pang of insecurity by getting out of this place. but before you can slip out of sight, a familiar voice stops you.

“hey, what’s with the long face?”

you glance up, startled to find jake standing right in front of you, concern etched in his features. “n-nothing,” you mumble, forcing a smile. “just —felt out of place, i guess.”

jake’s gaze softens as if he can see right through your flimsy excuse. he steps closer, gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away a worry line that you hadn’t realised had formed. he leans in ever so close, “is it because of her?” he asks softly, nodding back toward his ex. when you don’t respond, he leans in, his eyes locking with yours. “you know she’s just the past, right?”

“but you looked so happy, jake! and we're not even—” “i’m only yours, you hear me?” he whispers fiercely, his fingers tightening around your waist, pulling you into him. “fake or not, you’re the one i want to be with.” his voice is low, almost pleading. “i’m not going anywhere.”

warmth blooms in your chest, melting away the doubts. and when he kisses your forehead gently, it’s like the final seal on his promise.

PARK SUNGHOON

the elevator doors slide shut, leaving just you and sunghoon in the small, enclosed space. his shoulders brush against yours, a stark reminder of how close you’re standing. you glance up at him nervously, noting the sharp line of his jaw and the tense set of his shoulders. why does he look so annoyed? he hasn’t said a word since you two left the event.

you press the button for your floor, stealing another look at him. he’s staring straight ahead, expression unreadable, but you can tell something’s different today. his jaw is clenched, his hands stuffed into his pockets, tension radiating from him.

it hits you then—he saw you talking to that guy earlier. your colleague from work, who’s been too friendly lately.

the elevator jolts slightly as it begins its ascent, and the silence stretches. you clear your throat, shifting nervously, taking a quick glance at his side profile, “sunghoon, about earlier—”

“does he always touch you like that?” his voice is low, cold even, cutting through the still air like a blade, face away from yours, looking straight ahead.

you blink, caught off guard by the question. “what?”

he turns to you, stepping closer until the space between you is almost nonexistent. “your ‘friend’ at the office,” he mutters, his eyes narrowing, leaning his head down as he loosens his tie. “he seemed too comfortable.”

you feel a flicker of heat rising in your chest—he’s jealous. But why? “sunghoon, it’s not—”

“i don’t care what you think it is.” his hand reaches out, gripping the side of the elevator wall beside your head, caging you in. his breath hitches as he leans in, his face just inches from yours. “we might be pretending, but i don’t like it when anyone else looks at you that way. you’re mine.”

the possessiveness in his voice sends shivers down your spine. your heart pounds as you try to process the sudden shift in his demeanour, the unspoken intensity in his eyes, the impossibly fast heartbeat of yours.

“we’re not real, remember?” you manage to whisper, though your body betrays you, leaning into the space between you two.

“then tell me,” he murmurs, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. his fingers brush lightly against your waist, the touch sending shivers down your spine. “why does it hurt so much seeing another guy looking at you?”

you stare at him, mouth dry, as his eyes drop to your lips.

“i don’t want to pretend anymore,” he whispers, “please..” a desperate plea from his lips as his hands control itself to not pull you in, but you don't wait, and close the gap between your lips. and he pulls you closer, bodies clashing against each other as the kiss escalates. he smirks into the kiss, you're his for real now.

KIM SUNOO

it’s pouring rain, and you’re soaked to the bone, standing under a bus stop shelter that does little to keep you dry. you mentally curse yourself for forgetting your umbrella, shivering as the cold wind cuts through your drenched clothes. just when you think your day can’t get any worse, a familiar car pulls up beside the curb, headlights cutting through the downpour.

the passenger window rolls down, and there he is—kim sunoo, your ‘fake’ boyfriend, his brows furrowed in a mix of exasperation and concern. “get in before you freeze,” he calls out, voice muffled by the sound of the rain.

you don’t need to be told twice. you scramble into the car, teeth chattering as you tug the door shut behind you. the warmth of the heater engulfs you instantly, and sunoo’s jacket is shoved into your hands before you can even register what’s happening. “you’re going to catch a cold,” he scolds, his voice laced with worry as he glances at your shivering form, “why didn't you call me?”

you blink up at him, feeling a strange flutter in your chest. “i … i didn’t want to bother you.”

sunoo sighs, leaning closer until you can see every droplet of rain clinging to his hair, every crease in his usually cheerful face. “idiot,” he murmurs, voice low and filled with something you can’t quite name. “you’re never a bother to me.”

your heart skips as he reaches out, brushing damp strands of hair away from your forehead with gentle fingers. his hand lingers, thumb tracing your chilled cheek softly.

for a moment, he’s quiet. then, he reaches over, wiping a raindrop from your cheek with the pad of his thumb, the gesture so gentle it makes your heart skip. “do you know how worried i was? pretend or not, i don’t want to see you like this,” he murmurs, his hand lingering near your face.

before you can respond, he leans over and tucks the jacket around your shoulders, pulling you close until you’re huddled against his chest and neck. “you’re mine to worry about,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, then one on the bridge of your nose.

in that moment, under the sound of rain and the warmth of his embrace, it doesn’t feel like an act anymore.

YANG JUNGWON

it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. the plan was rather simple—show up together at the dinner, play the perfect couple in front of his friends, and go home as usual. but then the storm hit, trapping you at his apartment afterward, the rain pouring down outside in heavy sheets, drenching the city.

jungwon sits beside you on the couch, the dim glow of the lamp casting shadows across his sharp features, and you force yourself to look away. his jacket is discarded on the floor, sleeves rolled up as he runs a hand through his damp hair, frustrated by the turn of events. he looks too handsome right now.

it’s quiet, too quiet, with only the sound of rain tapping against the windows.

“looks like you’re stuck here,” he says, leaning back casually, but there’s a tension in the air that you can’t ignore. you tug the blanket tighter around yourself, trying to stay calm, but the warmth of the apartment and the intimacy of the moment is starting to make you nervous.

“i'll crash on the couch,” you mutter awkwardly, avoiding his gaze, but jungwon’s eyes are on you, piercing, like he’s studying every inch of your face. he doesn’t say anything at first, but then he moves closer, his knee brushing against yours, you shiver.

“you don’t have to,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver through you. his hand rests lightly on your knee, but it’s enough to make your heart race. “you can take the bed.”

before you can respond, jungwon cups your chin gently, turning your face toward his. his touch is soft but firm, like he’s been holding back for too long. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch, as his as well.

“we don’t have to pretend all the time, you know,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, his eyes darkening with something deeper, something real, “it's getting so hard for me…”

your heart skips a beat, and suddenly the fake relationship feels far too real. “jungwon, what are you saying?” you ask, your voice trembling as he leans in, his forehead resting against yours, hands falling down to your waist to pull you closer.

“i'm saying,” he murmurs, his lips just inches from yours, “that i want to kiss you, but in a real boyfriend way, and love you too while at that.”

the rain continues to fall outside, but all you can hear is the pounding of your heart as his lips brush softly against yours, the kiss gentle but full of unspoken emotions, before it quickly melts to an intense one. he pulls away slightly, his breath mingling with yours as he whispers, “stay with me tonight… for real.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

you never expected to find yourself in a fake relationship with riki, of all people—the energetic, mischievous older brother of your best friend. when he overheard you venting about your annoying ex constantly showing up at your favourite hangouts, he had put up a sly smirk and volunteered to be your fake boyfriend.

“think of it as a win-win. i get to mess with people’s heads, and you get a human shield. plus,” he had said, winking playfully, “it’ll be fun.”

you should’ve known that riki’s idea of ‘fun’ involved way more than you’d bargained for.

tonight, at your favourite late-night café, you spot your ex walking in, scanning the crowd. you freeze, heart thudding. before you can react, riki slides his arm around your shoulders, tugging you close. his scent—a mix of citrus and something else uniquely him—makes your pulse spike. it’s only for show, you remind yourself. except … he’s suddenly so convincing.

“hey, baby, you okay?” riki’s voice is loud enough to catch your ex’s attention, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. he leans in, close enough that you can feel his breath tickling your ear. “you’re all tense.”

you fight the shiver that runs down your spine. “stop playing around,” you mutter, but he just smirks.

“i’m not playing,” he murmurs back, eyes twinkling. his gaze flicks toward your ex, who’s now glaring at you both, and riki’s grip tightens around you possessively. “i told you i’m the best at this.”

the next thing you know, riki’s turning you slightly in his arms, cupping your cheek in a way that looks so natural it makes your heart skip. the café lights catch on the gleam in his eyes—intense, focused. your ex is staring daggers at him now, but riki pays him no mind. instead, his thumb brushes your jaw softly, his face hovering inches from yours.

“relax, would you?” he murmurs, but his voice has lost its teasing edge. there’s something almost… protective in the way he’s watching you.

“riki —” you start, but he cuts you off by leaning even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, “let me handle this.”

before you can process his words, he pulls you flush against him, his eyes never leaving your ex’s face. then, with a cocky grin, he dips his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple.

you freeze, heart pounding. when he finally pulls back, his gaze meets yours, unreadable. “there,” he says softly, still holding you close. “you’re mine now. got it?” and from the look on his face, you’re not entirely sure he’s pretending anymore.

© BYWONS, 2024 / do not copy or repost without permission / div cr plutism

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[girlygguk]

CRAZY | JJK (Part 2)

summary you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.

pairing ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader

rating 18+ minors dni; smut, fluff, angst

genre coworkers to lovers au, established relationship

word count 13.2k

chapter content [read part one for full character & story warnings pls.] jk & oc first encounter, jungkook lowkey goes a bit yandere in one two of the scenes 😭, jk punches another guy, love at first fuck lets b real, mention of oc's superior abusing their power (not jk), hyungwon appearance 🙄, heejin appearance 🙄, hobi appearance 🎉, bff jiminie appearance 🎉, time skips, jealous mcs, heated argument, jk lies but like... for the greater good? god idk

warnings dom jk, sub oc, pre established traffic light sw system and degradation consent, doggy, dirty talk, protected p in v sex, praise kink, um slight exhibition kink, rough sex, squirting...(on their first fucking encounter yeeeppp help me god)

a/n this is only 75% edited bc i honestly wasn't going to post it for a whilee as i'm working on some other things atm but i felt bad just watching her sit in my drafts all sad n semi finished 😢 alsoo if a bit of the smut dialogue looks a lil familiar... cough salsa.. its bc i was gonna completelyy change up the sexy scene 🥺 and so i used the smut as inspo for the salsa drabble so it didnt go to waste... bye im such a clown. okay thank u, enjoy, and pls lemme know what u think <3 mwah

crazy pt 1 | masterlist | join my taglist | banner credit

801 DAYS AGO

Your twelve-month contract as a temp Administrative Assistant at Jeon Corp was creeping to an end, and it was safe to say that you were fucking pissed.

You had put everything into this place—countless overtime shifts, moved into an overpriced house in the city near the firm so you were never late. You eat, sleep and breathe this fucking company. And what did you get for it? An almost certain rejection, apparently.

You were more than sure they'd offer you a permanent position. Your stats spoke for themselves. They were flawless. You’d single-handedly cleaned up the absolute fucking disaster left behind by the previous administrative assistant who bailed after Jeon Jun-seo’s passing—and that was not light work.

And by "bailed," you meant that they were part of the bloodbath that ensued when Jungkook took over and wiped out almost half the staff for incompetence.

The staff who remained still grumbled about it—loyalists, maybe, or just people too comfortable with the way things used to be. They hated him for it. He was ruthless, sure, but effective. Jeon Corp wasn't just successful; it was dominating. They went from merely hitting targets to blowing right past them. And that shift started with him.

Jungkook was good. Really fucking good.

He was young, driven, passionate, and not to mention—a sight for sore eyes. Even as someone who didn't like to openly praise men, you couldn't help but be impressed.

Still, you knew your fate wasn't in his hands directly. He wasn't going to be the one deciding whether your temp position would become permanent. He was the CEO—too high up to care about such things. And besides, you'd never even spoken to the guy. You spent most of your time on the twelfth floor, and he was always buried in work on the nineteenth.

Except for that one time.

Maybe three months ago? You had shared an elevator with him when you both arrived at work around the same time. For eleven floors, you stood silently beside him. Well, you were silent. He was on the phone, speaking in that low, gravelly tone that had a way of crawling under your skin. Being so close, you could hear the slight slip of a Busan accent when he spoke. He wasn't rude, just... intense.

Even while curses slipped from his lips to whoever was on the other end of the line, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was just his usual tone—whether he was speaking to a business partner, an enemy, a lover. Either way, you didn't think it was negative. It was just him.

You knew bits and pieces about the guy from what Jimin had shared—him being Jungkook’s assistant and all—but nothing too personal. Not that you needed to know. Though, admittedly, he had piqued your interest.

A month prior to that elevator ride, you’d caught a glimpse of something that had you squirming in your seat. From your office, you had glanced over to see him leading a meeting on your floor. His suit jacket had been tossed over the back of his chair, revealing the dirtiest, prettiest fucking sleeve you’d ever laid eyes on. His big, tattooed bicep flexed with each movement as he pointed at the projector screen.

The sight had you groaning, pushing your unfinished lunch aside and retreating to the bathroom.

You’d tried calling your boyfriend, hoping to pull him into some filthy phone sex, but he was too nervous to go through with it. In the end, you hung up frustrated, finishing yourself off in the stall, biting your lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

The elevator ride felt quicker than usual. You kept your eyes fixed on the LED screen, watching the numbers tick up, though you were more focused on the way his cologne filled the space, light but somehow intoxicating. By the time the doors slid open on your floor, his call had ended. You adjusted your bag, turning to him with a polite bow.

"Have a good day, seonsaengnim," you'd said, your voice soft as you smiled.

He didn’t say anything back, just looked at you for a second, his dark eyes sweeping over your face. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he gave you a subtle nod, and you walked off, feeling his gaze linger as you left.

And that was it.

You didn't see him again. Not in the lobby, not passing by in meetings, not even when your car and his were the last ones left in the parking lot after late shifts. It wasn't unusual; he was literally the CEO, always busy, always somewhere else. He didn't have time to notice you.

But you couldn’t help but think about it more than you’d like to admit.

If you'd known that you'd never cross paths with him again, never ride the same elevator, never exchange more than those few words before your temp contract ended—would you have done something different? Said something more?

Maybe you would've clicked a higher floor.

But here you were. No offer. No permanence. Just three job offers from other firms sitting in your inbox, waiting for your reply. Of course, you had a backup plan—you weren't that naive. But something about it stung anyway. You'd take one of those offers at the end of the week, move on, and maybe one day, you'd forget about Jeon Corp entirely.

Sigh.

You were really going to miss Jiminie, though.

“So... how's your shift going?”

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping as you twisted the cap off your water bottle, taking a sip before tearing the lid off your salad. Your phone sat on your desk, Hyungwon's voice crackling through the speaker.

"It's going good, Hyungwon," you replied, voice tinged with sarcasm. "Same as every day."

A sad chuckle echoed through the receiver. "Oh, yeah? Well, we just got new printers at the firm, you know, the Lexmark MX8s? What about y—"

The forkful of salad that was halfway to your mouth dropped back into the bowl. "Hyungwon," you interrupted, incredulity dripping from your tone. "Did you really call me to talk about printers?"

"Well, I—no, I just—"

You sighed, reaching for your water again and setting your untouched lunch down. "Hyungwon, I hope you're okay, I really do. And I'm happy for you and your fancy printers," yours were two seasons ahead, "but this isn't helping. You're not going to feel better if—"

"I just miss you, Y/N," his voice cracked, and instantly, your appetite evaporated. You let out another deep sigh, rubbing your temples, as Hyungwon's next words came out shaky. "And I just want to know what I did wrong. We were doing so well. W-what did I do?"

"Hyungwon…" You picked up the phone, taking it off speaker as you leaned back in your chair, eyes focused on the ceiling. "You didn't do anything. You're a great guy, okay?"

"Yeah," he scoffed, his voice bitter and teary. "Girls don't break up with 'great guys' after an amazing year together out of the blue, Y/N."

Was it out of the blue? Had it been amazing?

"We've been over this," you sighed, adjusting the phone in your hand. "A hundred times in the last month. It's not about what you did. We just—"

"Weren't right for each other," he finished, his voice robotic, like he was reciting a script he'd memorized against his will. A sniffle followed as you heard him reach for tissues. "Just… wanted you to know I miss you. And… could I come by next week? Pick up my clothes?"

You took a long drink from your water bottle, feeling a headache forming. "I’ll leave it with reception. You can pick it up from the office—"

"No," he cut in, his voice tight with desperation. "Please, from your place. I just… I need to see you one more time."

You exhaled deeply, eyes unfocused as you stared out your floor-to-ceiling window. It had been a month since you ended things with Park Hyungwon—a month since you stuffed his clothes into a box and offered to drop them off. A month of excuses, a month of him putting it off, dragging out these unbearable phone calls, asking to see you in person, to talk.

You knew why he wanted to make the exchange in person. You weren't stupid. But lately, something about his calls had been giving you a bad feeling—a taste in your mouth that lingered long after you hung up. Hyungwon wasn't dangerous. He wouldn't hurt a fly. But he was... off. These calls always followed a pattern.

First, 1:15pm, right when you started your break, your phone would buzz. You'd glance down, see an incoming call from P.H, and immediately regret ever sharing your lunch schedule with him.

Then, he'd be kind. Sweet. Boring. Asking about your shift, your day, until something—something trivial—would break his composure. He'd start to crack, voice shaking, or worse, he'd burst into tears over something like… printers.

By the end of the call, there was always that weird shift. Not angry, not sad… something in between. A mix of emotions that left you unsettled, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why. You could feel the resentment beneath it all, though—like he definitely blamed you for the breakup, no matter how many times he asked what he could've done to keep you.

That was fine. You were used to people resenting you. You were top of your major, gorgeous, and a bit of a bitch. But hearing that tone in Hyungwon's voice? A human puppy dog you'd spent a year of your life with? It made your skin crawl in a way you couldn't shake.

And now, here he was, asking to see you again. For what? Closure? An emotional showdown? You didn't care. You just knew you had to end this, fast. Another call filled with sniffles and pleas, eating away at what little break time you had? You'd throw yourself out that fucking floor-to-ceiling window before you let that happen again.

"Fine," you sighed, glancing at your watch as you switched the phone to your other ear. "You can come over next week. I'll check my schedule."

"Really?" His voice immediately brightened, and you rolled your eyes. "Shivers! That sounds great! Just text me when—"

You swallowed the bile rising in your throat. Shivers? SHIVERS?

"Break's over, Hyungwon," you interrupted, forcing a smile into your voice. "Talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah. Thank you, Y/N. I'll call you tomorrow."

The line went dead, and your fist clenched around the phone.

"God," you muttered to yourself, tossing it onto your desk with an exasperated sigh, "I'm changing my fucking break time."

"Should I come back later?"

You yelped at the sudden voice, spinning around in your chair to see your best friend standing in your office doorway, his signature Cheshire grin firmly in place.

"Jiminie!" you beamed, frustration melting away as you rushed over to pull him into a hug. "No, it's okay. It was just—"

"Hyungwon," Jimin finished for you with a knowing, apologetic nod. "You know, you could always just… not answer when he calls?"

You rolled your eyes, brushing a piece of blonde fringe from his face. "And have his suicide on my conscience? No thanks."

"He's a grown man. He can make his own decisions," Jimin shrugged, laughing when you widened your eyes in faux shock.

You shuffled back to your desk, stabbing a cherry tomato from your salad. "Aren't you supposed to be telling me to run back into his arms and admit I was wrong? Some sort of cousin code or something?" you quirked a brow teasingly, humming around the mouthful.

He laughed softly, adjusting the files in his hand. "I'd never tell you to go back to something you were clearly miserable in, Y/N. Even if he is my cousin."

You swallowed another bite, giving him an appreciative smile before finishing the rest of your water bottle. "That is why I love you, Park." You threw the rest of your papers into a folder and linked your arm with his. "And why I'm going to miss you so much." You pouted playfully.

Jimin rolled his eyes, guiding you out of your office. The usual hustle and bustle of level twelve filled the air as he snorted, "Don't say that. You're not going anywhere, Y/N."

"Mm, I beg to differ." You shot back, bitterness lacing your voice. "I haven't heard a word about permanency, and my contract ends in four days." With a dramatic sigh, you added, "Guess you'll just have to visit me at KimCo on your lunch breaks instead."

"First of all," Jimin smirked, "I wouldn't drive across town on my lunch break to visit anyone, even you." You squinted at him as he teased, "And second, yeah, it's shitty that you haven't heard anything about the promotion—"

"And unprofessional," you interjected, rolling your eyes. "And discourteous, and obnoxious, and plain fucking rude—"

He chuckled, cutting you off with a light shrug. "Yes, all of the above," he agreed as you both reached the elevators. Unlinking his arm from yours, he pressed the button to go up. "But… have you accepted the offer at KimCo yet?"

You frowned, glancing at the lit-up arrow pointing up. "No, not yet. I was going to tonight…" You trailed off, turning to him in confusion. "Jiminie, why are we going up? Our meeting's on level seven."

Jimin glanced down at the file in his hand before his mouth opened to respond, but the elevator dinged, catching your attention.

The doors slid open, and you were immediately hit with the faint scent of tobacco and Bvlgari. Your head turned slightly, seeking the source.

Jungkook stood inside, eyes focused on the phone in his hand, dressed in a perfectly pressed designer suit that somehow looked more sinfully casual on him than it had any right to.

You blinked, tearing your gaze away from him and turning back to Jimin, waiting for an explanation.

"Oh yeah, uh, the meeting's been pushed back a bit," Jimin said, nodding to the elevator. "But you're needed upstairs for a moment."

You frowned, glancing down at the heavy folder in your hands as you stepped into the elevator. If the meeting was postponed, you wouldn't have dragged this big fucking thing around with you. You left some space between yourself and the CEO and Jimin happily slid in between, his usual smile bright and easy.

The doors closed, and silence settled over the small space. Jungkook was still looking at his phone. Jimin still hadn't pressed a button.

You frowned. "Jiminie, why haven't you clicked a floor?"

He turned toward you, feigning confusion as his eyes flicked toward the panel. "Oh, because it's already pressed." He shrugged, flashing a quick smile before turning forward again.

You stared harder at the panel. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jungkook's broad frame. His phone was tucked away now, but his gaze remained fixed straight ahead. He hadn't said a word.

"Level nineteen?" you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.

Jimin nodded, offering you a simple smile.

The elevator crawled its way up slowly with a few more words exchanged between you and Jimin. Then, finally, the elevator dinged open at level nineteen, and the air shifted.

The sleek, pristine hallway stretched out before you, polished floors gleaming so bright that you could almost see your reflection in the tiles. You had only been here once before, for a department meeting with the CCO, Kim Namjoon.

Jimin politely bowed to his boss as you instinctively stepped back, allowing Jungkook to exit first. His gaze never wavered as he nodded in acknowledgment, his movements calm as he stepped out.

As you followed Jimin down the hall, you couldn't help but notice how eerily quiet everything was. The glass-paneled meeting rooms stood empty, the reception desk vacant. The last time you were here, the place had life, but now… nothing.

Jungkook disappeared into his office without a word while you and Jimin continued walking. Your confusion only deepened as you glanced through the glass panes into all the very empty meeting rooms.

Jimin slowed at the entryway to Jungkook's office.

"Jiminie, what's going on?" you asked, gently grabbing his arm. "Am I supposed to have a meeting with Jeon Jungkook-seonsaengnim? Why wasn't I informed? I need to know what's required—"

"Y/N," Jimin interrupted softly, his hand covering yours reassuringly. "I'll explain soon, okay? I know it's last minute, and I'm sorry for that. Let me just make sure everything is on track." He smiled at you before gesturing to the plush seats outside the office. "Take a seat. I won't be long."

You hesitated, but trusting your best friend, you nodded, setting your folder on the table before sitting down. Jimin gave you one last encouraging smile before disappearing inside Jungkook's office, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

Your eyes darted around the hallway as you waited, the clean surroundings feeling almost too sterile, too perfect. The glass walls of Jungkook's office made it impossible not to glance inside. You caught a glimpse of him flipping through a file, his expression focused, detached. Jimin approached him, placing his own file down on the desk as the two exchanged quiet words.

Jimin greeted his boss again with a respectful bow. "Seonsaengnim," he smiled, placing the file in front of Jungkook.

Jungkook didn't look up from the papers he was thumbing through. "Is she waiting for me?"

"Yes, sir," Jimin replied, his hands clasped neatly in front of him. "You have about thirty minutes before the board meeting, so I thought now could be a good time for you to meet with Y/LN Y/N… The temp administrative assistant from level twelve? Her contract ends in—"

"Four days," Jungkook finished, finally closing the file in front of him. He reached for the one Jimin had brought, flipping it open. "Why hasn't her contract been extended? Her performance is strong, and she has streamlined operations in her department. Does she not wish to stay with the company?"

"She does, sir," Jimin nodded. "But I was informed by Namjoon-seonsaengnim's assistant that Lee Dohyun does not plan to extend her contract. He intends to let it end."

Jungkook's brow twitched slightly, his eyes narrowing as he flipped through the papers. "And why does Dohyun plan to do that? She's efficient, profitable. She cleaned up the mess the last administrative assistant left behind." His tone was clipped, irritation poorly masked.

Jimin shifted on his feet, the hint of hesitation visible in his posture. "I'm not entirely sure, sir. It's mostly hearsay, but…" he cleared his throat, glancing at Jungkook before continuing cautiously, "there's a rumor that she rejected one of Dohyun's advances a few months ago. Since then, word has flown around that he's been less than accommodating toward her."

Jungkook's eyes darkened, his fingers stopping their idle flipping as his gaze snapped back to Jimin. "So, he's punishing her for not entertaining him?"

Jimin's silence was enough of an answer.

Jungkook's jaw clenched, the tension in his shoulders building. He flipped the file shut, the subtle thud of the paper echoing in the quiet office.

"Why have you brought her to me, Jimin?" he asked, shooting a sharp look at his assistant. "There's a chain of command. At least six people between Dohyun and me."

"There are," Jimin acknowledged. "But some months ago, you mentioned noticing a significant increase in productivity and efficiency in Administration… You said the improvements could be attributed to the new assistant's work. I just thought considering her contract ends in four days, you'd want to meet her personally before she accepts another offer."

Jungkook leaned back against his desk, glancing at the glass door where you were sitting, your legs crossed, eyes absentmindedly focused on a strand of your hair. His gaze flicked over your tight black pencil skirt, the cream blouse that hugged your figure, the neat ponytail held in place by four bobby pins.

"She's very good," he admitted, eyes dropping back to the folder. "But I don't meddle in the hiring department. Tell Dohyun to reconsider his decision."

Jimin shifted slightly. "He's on leave for the rest of the week, sir."

Jungkook sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Then go to the next in command, Jimin. I'm not—"

"She's accepting an offer from another firm tonight, Jungkook," Jimin said quickly, catching himself. "Jungkook-seonsaengnim," he corrected. "Once she signs the contract with KimCo, there won't be time to make a counteroffer."

Jungkook went quiet; his eyes focused on the closed folder in front of him as Jimin pressed on. "Just five minutes, sir. That's all she needs."

Jungkook's eyes flicked up to meet Jimin's. He rolled his eyes, leaning back on his desk, arms crossing over his chest. "You're supposed to make my life easier, not harder, Park."

Jimin couldn't help but grin, looking over his shoulder to catch you glancing down at your Apple watch. He bit back a snicker when you rolled your eyes, clearly getting impatient.

"She'd be a big loss, seonsaengnim," Jimin said honestly as he turned back to his boss. "I believe I'm making your life easier. You live, eat, and breathe this company."

Jungkook groaned, closing his eyes briefly before nodding. "Send her in. Five minutes."

"Thank you, seonsaengnim." Jimin bowed, turning toward the door.

"Jimin," Jungkook called out, his assistant's hand freezing on the handle.

"Yes, sir?"

"Draft effective immediate termination papers for Lee Dohyun and put them on my desk when you leave for the night."

Jimin bit back a grin. "Yes, sir."

You straightened in your seat as soon as you saw Jimin approaching, eyes narrowing suspiciously. He looked like the cat that caught the canary, and you didn't trust it for a second.

"Y/N, this way, please—"

"No," you snapped, swatting his outstretched hand away. "Brief me."

There was no way you were walking into a meeting with the fucking CEO without any preparation. Was he fucking high?

Jimin chuckled softly, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Relax, Y/N. It'll only take a few minutes. Jungkook's not much of a talker…" He reached out again, and you batted his hand away once more.

He laughed again, then pouted, blinking at you with wide, innocent eyes. "Please, Y/N? Just trust me."

"God, you're a cunt," you muttered under your breath, shooting him a glare as you stood and smoothed your skirt. Reluctantly, you started toward the office.

"Unprofessional…" Jimin teased with a grin, snickering when you turned and mouthed 'get fucked' at him before stepping inside.

The glass doors clicked softly behind you as you entered the impeccably tidy office. "Seonsaengnim," you greeted with a bow. “Y/LN Y/N. It's nice to formally meet you."

Jungkook barely glanced up, his dark eyes sweeping over you for just a moment before he dropped them back down to the file on his desk.

His nod was curt, his voice low and indifferent. "Jeon Jungkook," he said, as if his name wasn't already plastered across every inch of this building.

When he gestured toward the seat in front of his desk, you sat down, crossing your legs as he settled back into his chair. His attention returned to the open file. "Your contract ends in four days."

"Yes, sir," you nodded, hands resting in your lap as you held back any trace of bitterness.

"Do you not wish to stay here?" His voice was steady as his eyes flicked up to meet yours.

You blinked, a little surprised by the question. "No, sir. I do wish to stay. But I haven't heard anything from management regarding a permanent position."

"Who do you report to?" Jungkook asked, though you were sure he already knew the answer.

"Lee Dohyun-seonsaengnim."

He leaned back in his chair, drumming his tattooed fingers lightly against the desk as he skimmed the file. "Your work is impressive."

"Thank you, sir." You smiled softly, ignoring how those four simple words made your stomach flip. "That means a lot coming from you."

His gaze lingered on you for a second longer before he closed the file and set it aside. "Y/LN Y/N," he said, his voice calm, "Why do you think your contract hasn't been extended?"

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the question. "I'm not entirely sure, seonsaengnim."

Jungkook hummed. "You've been here almost a year. Your work speaks for itself. Yet your contract hasn't been extended." His gaze locked on yours, and for a second, he almost looked genuinely interested. "Why?"

You inhaled slowly, keeping your expression as neutral as possible. "I've heard rumors, sir. But I'm not one hundred percent certain."

An eyebrow arched, and Jungkook tilted his head slightly. "Let's say the rumors are true. Do you think personal reasons should outweigh performance?"

"No, sir," you answered steadily. "But I don't control the decisions."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and for a moment, his eyes flickered with amusement. Whether he appreciated your honesty or just liked watching you squirm, you weren't sure. "Do you plan on accepting an offer from another company, Y/N?"

You gave a slight nod. "Yes, sir. My first choice is KimCo. They've offered me a permanent coordinator role in their administration department. I plan on sending my letter of acceptance tonight, after my shift."

Jungkook was quiet for a moment, his dark eyes roaming over you lazily, but enough that it was impossible not to notice. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" he asked finally, his voice casual as he leaned back in his chair. "Or are you happy to go to KimCo?"

"I would prefer to stay, sir," you said, holding his gaze. "If Jeon Corp is willing to match the salary offer and I'm guaranteed a permanent position."

"What's the offer?"

"₩67m, sir."

Jungkook's expression didn't change. "We can do eighty."

"Wha—"

"I'll have your permanent administrative coordinator contract drafted by tonight and emailed to you. Will that work?"

It took you a second to process his words before you blinked in surprise. "Yes, sir," you replied, fighting to keep the smile tugging at your lips in check. "It would."

Jungkook leaned back further in his chair, his eyes flicking over you once more, lingering in a way that wasn't accidental. Then, with a simple nod, he closed the file in front of him. "Good. I'll expect your response by tomorrow morning."

You still don't really know how it happened.

Maybe it started when you stood to give him a polite bow before leaving his office, and he reached out for a handshake at the exact same moment. His cold hand accidentally brushed against the side of your inner breast through your blouse as you leaned forward, and suddenly, both of you froze.

Jungkook pulled his hand back sharply, his brows furrowing as he stared down at the file on his desk like it was the most interesting thing in the world, muttering a low apology, his usual confident tone suddenly gone.

It was... so cute.

Seeing the man who looked like he could ruin your life with just a snap of his fingers suddenly all shy and flustered as if he was more embarrassed than you were? Fucking adorable.

Maybe it was his instinct to avoid an HR complaint, to maintain professionalism in what could have been misconstrued as an inappropriate touch.

But you weren't going to misconstrue it. It was an accident.

And, honestly... you always were kind of a sucker for bad boys with soft eyes.

"Fucking goodddd!!!" you moaned, your voice barely coherent as your cheek pressed against the cold surface of his desk. Each relentless thrust from Jungkook had your body jiggling under him, your mind lost in a haze as his hips slammed into you without mercy. "S-so fucking b-biiiiig."

Your eyes rolled back, throat raw from the croaky whimpers that escaped between each ragged breath. His hand was firm on the back of your head, keeping you pinned down, helpless as he took you apart, piece by piece.

"I know, baby," he cooed, his voice laced with that condescending pout that only made you clench harder around him. "I know it's big, baby. But you can take it, can't you?"

His fingers tangled in your hair, brushing lightly over your flushed cheek in a teasing, mocking pat. Then, without warning, he pulled back and slammed into you harder, deeper, until you felt him hit that spot. That fucking spottt. Your breath caught in your throat as he didn't stop, didn't let up, just kept going, over and over and over.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, nails scraping into the polished wood of his desk until you felt the lacquer gathering beneath your fingernails. The loud, wet slaps of his hips against your ass echoed through the room, his heavy balls smacking into your swollen clit.

"'Course you can take it. 'Cause you're such a hard worker, hm? Such an overachiever, aren't you, baby." His voice dripped with dark amusement, each taunting word sending shivers down your spine. His hand pressed your head harder into the desk, the weight of him leaving you trembling, drool pooling on the wood beneath you as you gasped and whimpered, completely at his mercy.

"You can take it, Y/N. Know you can," he murmured, every word like a filthy promise, his gaze locked on the way your body was surrendering to him, giving him everything. He wasn’t going to stop until you broke. Until you were his.

"Color, baby." He growled into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He hummed in delight when he felt you swallow, your gasps feeding into his satisfaction.

"Green," you choked out, barely able to form the words. "Do anything to me. Green, fucking green to it all," you cried, voice raw as tears blurred your vision, and Jungkook groaned, teeth grazing the delicate skin of your throat in approval.

His grip tightened in your hair again, yanking you upright until your back was flush against his chest. "G-g-godddddd," you choked out, body trembling, tears threatening to spill as his thrusts grew quicker, more brutal, each one slamming harder and louder, drowning out everything else.

Your hands shot up, clawing desperately at the back of his neck as you tried to hold on, your body burning from the inside out as he destroyed you. His lips ghosted over the curve of your neck, teeth grazing your skin just as his hand slipped down your stomach, his fingers finding your swollen, slippery clit with ease.

Jungkook's pace became punishing, driving into you harder and faster, your body quivering under his touch. His lips brushed lazily over your neck, whispering filthy praise into your ear as his fingers circled your clit, sending a jolt through your entire body. The wet, sloppy sounds of his hips smacking into your ass filled the room, each thrust sending you closer to the edge.

"F-fuck, Jungkook," you gasped, your voice cracking as his pace quickened even more at the sound of his name on your lips. "It's s-so… fuck…"

He groaned low in your ear, his hand fisting your hair tighter, yanking your head back as his hips crashed into you over and over. "So good, Y/N baby," he cooed, his voice dripping with lust. "You're doing so fucking well. Taking it so good."

The praise made your throat bob, your entire body teetering on the edge of collapse. You couldn't think of anything but him—full, Jungkook, full, Jungkook. It was all-consuming, the only thing that mattered.

You weren't just wet anymore—you were disgustingly soaked, your arousal dripping down your thighs, mixing with the sweat on your skin as he ruined you. You let out a sob as tears streaked down your cheeks, your mascara no doubt smeared beyond repair as your entire body burned with pleasure.

"Careful, baby," he hummed darkly, voice tinged with amusement. "Don't want anyone to hear you, huh. Coming to check if you're okay..."

Your eyes flicked toward the glass doors, your head lolling back into the crook of his neck as you realized the vulnerability of your position. Fucked out, skirt bunched up around your waist, tits spilling over your bra, completely on display and helpless in his arms—holy fuck. The idea of someone seeing you like this had your thighs pathetically trembling as you felt yourself get even wetter. Sicko.

"S-sir," you stammered, the words forced out between his relentless thrusts that threw your body forward. "Cl-close the blinds."

Jungkook's lips curled into a smile against your neck at the lack of conviction in your words. Fucking perfect. His breath was warm as he whispered, "Why would I want to do that?" His hand slid to your chin, his fingers gripping firmly as he forced your eyes to the glass. "Y'look so fucking pretty, Y/N. Who would want to hide all that?"

Humiliation mixed with need, making your core throb even harder. The reflection of your wrecked form stared back at you—trembling, sweaty, makeup running down your tear-streaked face.

Well, he wasn't wrong. You did look kind of pretty.

The thought of how many other women had been in this same position with him briefly slithered through your mind, but you whimpered, pushing it away.

"H-harder, Jungkook… please," you gasped, voice a broken plea. "P-please, baby?"

That was all it took. His low groan vibrated through you, his hands gripping your waist tight as he snapped his hips into you with a force that made the desk rattle beneath your hands. One hand cupped your breast, tugging harshly at your nipple, while the other slipped down to mercilessly slap at your clit over and over.

"Shit, shit, shit, shittttt!" you sobbed, your voice high and broken, pleasure tearing through your body.

"You're close, aren't you?" Jungkook rasped, his voice rough as his thrusts grew erratic, harder, faster. "Getting so fucking tight around me. Gonna come for me, aren't you, baby?"

Your mind was gone. You couldn't focus on anything but the feeling of him inside you, stretching you, filling you, owning you. "J-Jungkook..." you slurred, your head falling back against his chest, "please make me come, baby, pleasepleasepleaseeee."

Jungkook's arms tightened around your trembling body, and in one quick motion, he sat back in his office chair, pulling you down into his lap. You cried out as his hands hooked under the back of your knees, planting his feet on the ground and spreading your legs wide, completely open, and facing the see-through fucking doors.

He didn't give you a second to breathe before he started pounding into you again, his fat cock hitting so deep at the new angle that your body shook uncontrollably. You couldn't even hear your own cries—just the wet, obscene slapping of skin and Jungkook's gorgeous groans in your ear.

"Rub your fucking clit," he commanded, his voice thick with urgency. "Come. Now, Y/N. Fucking come."

Your hand flew to your clit, trembling fingers rubbing furiously, slipping because you were so fucking wet. "Jungkook," you gasped, voice breaking, tears pouring down your cheeks.

"No, baby, f-fuckkk, I'm sor—" You couldn't stop the sobs, your body convulsing as the tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you. "Jungkook, I'm—I'm so sorry, ahhhh fuckkk! I-I'm gonna squirt, oh my goddddd!"

"Fuck, yes," he growled, and just as your body started to seize up, his hand shot down, pressing hard on your lower belly and bladder, right where he was buried deep inside you. His hips didn't relent, pounding into you with the same brutal pace.

The pressure on your abdomen made everything inside you snap. Your scream tore through his office as your walls clamped down hard on him, your body shaking violently as your hand trembled, losing its grip on your clit. You came so hard that your hand slipped away entirely, but before the overwhelming release could fade, Jungkook's hand was there, replacing yours instantly. His fingers rubbed your swollen clit with intense pressure, refusing to let you stop.

"Fuckk, look at that fucking pussy, Y/N," he growled as he slapped your pulsing clit over and over. "Keep going, fuck, keep squirting on my fucking dick, baby, holy shittttt."

The filthy command tipped you over the edge again. The sensation was too much, and you started to gush even harder. Wetness sprayed everywhere, soaking his lap, drenching the desk. You were fucking gone.

"Holy fuck," Jungkook choked out at the sight of your cunt gushing out liquid, his hips jerking erratically as his body tensed beneath you. He came hard into the condom with a deep, broken groan, his grip on you tight as he rode out his release, still rubbing your clit with nasty, unrelenting strokes, making sure you didn't stop.

Your body convulsed violently, your legs shaking uncontrollably as he kept rubbing, drawing out every last wave of your orgasm until you were a trembling, sobbing mess. His big hand cupped over your warm pussy, feeling it throb beneath his palm as he slowed his thrusts, easing you through the last shudders of your release.

"My godddd," he growled, his voice raw with awe as he moved his hand and looked down at the mess you'd made. Your quivering pussy, glistening and red, his slacks drenched, the chair wet, and even some paperwork on the desk soaked through.

Fuck, he groaned internally. He's obsessed.

Your chest heaved as you slumped against him, completely spent, your head falling onto his shoulder. Jungkook’s hands glided up and down your trembling thighs, suppressing the smile tugging at his lips as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, clinging to him like he was the only thing holding you together.

"Well done," he murmured, his lips grazing your forehead before pressing a soft kiss there. You could still feel his heart racing against your skin as you tried to catch your breath.

"Seonsaengnim," you muttered, still panting, "I'm so sorry about your papers—"

"Shut up," Jungkook cut you off with a roll of his eyes, your sudden shift to formalities clearly grating on him. His hands continued their soothing path over your stomach, fingers brushing lightly over the soft skin before he gently adjusted your legs on his lap. His strong thighs kept your feet dangling above the floor, his touch softening as he patted your belly absentmindedly, his voice easing. "It’s alright."

You tried to gather yourself, your mind still spinning. "I haven't done that in a while," you mumbled into his neck, the words slipping out without thought. "God."

Jungkook swallowed hard, suppressing the mix of emotions rising in his chest. Pride at making you feel this way. Anger at knowing someone else had. His jaw clenched briefly before he cleared his throat, forcing a casual hum of acknowledgment. "Good."

He patted your belly a couple more times, as though resetting his focus. "You okay to get dressed?" he asked, his voice slipping into something nonchalant, though the grip on your thighs lingered a moment longer than necessary. "I've got a meeting soon."

You cleared your throat and nodded, feeling a little unsteady as you began to push yourself up from his lap. His hands helped guide you as you stood, and you winced slightly as he slipped out of you, leaving you feeling oddly empty. Your legs wobbled beneath you, but you ignored the sensation, letting your skirt fall back into place. You glanced around the room, searching for your panties.

You crouched down, looking under the chair, then the desk, even flipping through some of the papers on his desk, but there was no sign of them.

"Have you seen my…?" you trailed off, turning to look at him, feeling the confusion settle in as you noticed his casual indifference. Jungkook, now having disposed of the condom, zipped up his slacks with an air of calmness that seemed just a bit too casual for your liking.

You raised a brow, suspicion growing. His expression mirrored yours with a glint in his eyes.

"Where are they?" you asked, narrowing your gaze.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he straightened his shirt. Then, he casually slipped his hands into his pockets, and that's when you caught the faintest flicker of black lace peeking out from one of them.

You scoffed, stepping toward him, but before you could snatch them back, Jungkook caught your hand. He snickered softly as he brought it to his lips, pressing a mocking kiss to your knuckles.

“01J09. Lock the door when you leave, Y/N." His tone was commanding but light as he slipped past you, grabbing his suit jacket as if nothing had happened. He gave you one last look before walking out of the room, leaving you standing in the middle of his messed-up office.

You slumped back into his chair with a huff, quickly adjusting your bra and buttoning your blouse. As you started to tidy the room, you found some disinfectant wipes in a cupboard and began cleaning the desk, trying to distract yourself.

The sound of the door opening behind you startled you, and you quickly turned, assuming Jungkook had returned. But when you locked eyes with your best friend smirking widely at the scene, your stomach dropped.

"You fucking slut!" Jimin shouted, closing the door behind him as he made his way toward you, cupping your face with both hands. His grin was bright, teasing, as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Holy shit! I'm mortified that I just walked past and saw my best friend getting railed by my boss… but I'm also so fucking happy! So, are you staying? Are you guys a thing? How did it happen? Holy fuck—"

"Jiminie," you whined, pulling his hands away and turning back to the desk to finish cleaning, "I'll tell you later. My legs hurt, and we need to get to the meeting—"

"The meeting's over," Jimin interrupted with a snicker, "it's been an hour."

"What the fuck?!" Panic washed over you as you turned to face him, eyes wide.

Jimin just shrugged, still wearing that smug smile. "It's fine, Y/N. I took notes; they're on our shared drive. It wasn't anything important. Definitely not as important as the 'meeting' you were in."

You snorted, tossing the used wipes into the bin and slipping your heels back on as you made your way toward the door, legs still shaky. "Jesus, Jimin, I can barely walk."

"I noticed," Jimin teased, his voice full of amusement. "Want me to carry you?"

"No thanks," you replied quickly, shuddering at the thought. "I'd rather crawl than have anyone see you carry me out of here."

"Are you at least going to the bathroom to fix your hair and makeup?" he asked, eyeing you critically. "You look like you were attacked by a swarm of wasps..."

You groaned. "Yes, Jiminie. I'm going to the bathroom. Now stop pestering me, or you'll be having movie night alone tomorrow."

His smirk softened into a playful smile. "Okay, okay. I'll wait for you in your office."

You waited for him to leave before entering the pin code to lock Jungkook's office door. After hearing the beep and confirming the door was secure, you turned to head toward the bathroom, only to find Jimin still blocking your path, brows furrowed and eyes wide.

"Jimin-ah, move—"

"He gave you the code to his office?" Jimin's voice was serious now, the lightheartedness from earlier gone.

You blinked at him, confused by the sudden shift in his tone. "Yes. Can you please move?"

Jimin didn't budge. His frown deepened as he processed the information. “Y/N… He doesn't just give the code to his office out. To anyone."

Your stomach twisted at his words. "Maybe he'll change it later. He said he had a meeting to go to—"

Jimin shook his head. "He hasn't changed that code since he took over. And… he just canceled his meetings for this afternoon. I thought it was because…"

The sinking feeling in your stomach grew worse. Of course, Jungkook lied and just wanted to leave. What was he supposed to do—sit there and cuddle you? Offer you aftercare? This wasn't new for him. You weren't special. Just another woman in a long line.

You swallowed hard, ignoring the bile rising in your throat. "Jiminie, can I… meet you downstairs? I need to go to the bathroom."

Jimin's expression softened instantly, his hand reaching out to brush some hair from your face before leaning in to kiss your forehead. "Okay, love. I'll get you some water and wait in your office."

You thanked him quietly before heading to the bathroom, locking the door before you leaned heavily against the sink. Staring at your reflection, you sighed at the sight. Your sleek ponytail was merely a distant memory, makeup smeared beyond repair. And there, on your neck, was a deep hickey blooming against your skin.

"Idiot," you muttered to yourself as you turned the tap on, starting to scrub your face clean in attempt to erase every trace of what just happened.

What was happening to you? You never let stuff like this get to you. You'd had more than your fair share of one-night stands, and you knew better than to let them mean anything. It was nothing to him, and it should've been nothing to you.

But god, it felt like so much more than nothing.

"Idiotttt," you muttered again, this time more frustrated. As you aggressively wiped away the mascara and dried tears, your eyes kept drifting back to the hickey. You sighed, knowing you had no makeup to cover it until you got back to your office.

With a huff, you walked toward the toilet and sat down, your hand grazing the mark on your neck while you peed. The memory of his lips still lingered fresh in your mind, and the longer you sat there, the more the reality of it all began to sink in.

Fuck, you groaned internally. You're obsessed.

Jungkook pulled the keys from the ignition, stepping out of his car and adjusting the collar of his suit jacket when it shifted out of place. The door clicked shut behind him as he locked the Mercedes, casually slipping his phone into his pocket—right next to your panties, still snug in the black fabric of his slacks.

When he reached the reception desk, a fake redhead sat behind it, focused on a stack of paperwork. She didn’t notice him at first, not until the sound of his footsteps caught her attention. The moment her eyes met his, Jungkook noticed the way she straightened in her seat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh, hello,” she greeted, her voice sweet but dripping with an attempt at seduction. “Welcome to Jang Merriott. How can I be of service?”

Jungkook swallowed the grimace threatening to surface, but his lips curved into that fake, charming smile he’d perfected for work events. “Hi, darling.” His voice was smooth, just the right amount of warmth. “I’m here for a business meeting, but I’m so silly...” He leaned in slightly, watching her eyes widen. His voice dropped to a lower, more intimate tone. “I forgot which room it’s in. Think you could help me?”

His eyes flicked to her nametag—Cho Minju—and when he looked back, he could practically see her mind spinning. “I-I…” she stammered, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Do you have the name of the—”

“Lee Dohyun,” Jungkook answered easily, not missing the way she gulped when he added softly, “Thank you, baby.”

“L-Lee Dohyun,” she echoed nervously, typing the name into the system with shaky fingers. Then she paused, biting her lip. “I, um… I really shouldn’t if you aren’t—if you’re not on the guest list…”

“It would really help me out, Minju-yah,” Jungkook murmured, his voice taking on a softer, boyish edge. His brows furrowed just slightly as he leaned in a touch more, looking at her through his lashes. “If I’m late, Dohyun-seonsaengnim will kill me… I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

Her wide eyes blinked up at him, her lip caught between her teeth. He could see the internal battle playing out in her head—protocol versus the hot guy in front of her. Predictably, protocol lost.

“Floor 13, room 304,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed.

“Thank you, baby,” Jungkook replied with a charming smile, slipping a hundred-dollar bill into her tip jar before walking toward the elevator. Minju’s breath caught again as he turned and walked toward the elevator, not looking back once.

As the elevator doors slid shut with a soft chime, Jungkook’s facade dropped, and he let out a small, amused scoff. He thought that was going to cost him at least a couple grand.

The elevator hummed softly as it ascended. When the monotone voice announced floor 13, the doors slid open, revealing a quiet, plush carpeted hallway. Jungkook strode out, his eyes narrowing slightly as he made his way to room 304.

“Jungkook-seonsaengnim?” Dohyun’s voice cracked in surprise when he opened the door, eyes widening at the unexpected sight of his boss. “I’m on leave, sir, is everything oka—”

The words barely left his mouth before Jungkook’s fist connected sharply with the side of his jaw. The force of the blow sent Dohyun crashing to the ground, his head snapping back as he sprawled out, half-dangling outside the doorway. His feet splayed awkwardly on the floor, barely moving. Jungkook nudged his limp body inside with the toe of his polished shoe, stepping over him as he calmly closed the door behind him with a soft click.

“Everything’s fine, Dohyun.” Jungkook’s voice was casual, almost too calm, as he crouched down to level his gaze with the man on the floor. Dohyun was clutching his jaw, eyes wide with terror, blinking back tears as he struggled to sit up. Confusion mixed with fear spread across his face, trembling as he tried to find his words.

Jungkook tilted his head, a slow, cold smirk pulling at his lips. "Great, actually," he continued, the menace in his voice unmistakable. His eyes flickered over the man on the ground as if he were nothing more than something to be dealt with. “And it’ll be even better in a second.”

TODAY

The soft click of heels against tile echoed down the pristine hall of level nineteen. Jimin and Hobi were either side of you, all three of you deep in conversation about Jimin's latest epic love saga.

“And afterward, we went and got ice cream,” Jimin sighed, a dreamy smile spreading across his lips. “And he even paid for my cone. I think he’s the one.”

You and Hobi shared a knowing look before turning back to him. Hobi giggled, shaking his head, while you leaned your head on Jimin’s shoulder, smiling warmly. “I’m sure he is, honey. Was it at least a double scoop?”

Jimin beamed, nodding enthusiastically, but his excitement faltered the second he caught the teasing smirks plastered on your and Hobi’s faces. His expression morphed into a pout as he narrowed his eyes at the both of you.

"Whatever. Just because you—" Jimin shot a pointed look at Hobi, "—don’t sleep with anyone more than once because of your deep-rooted commitment issues, and you—" he turned his accusing gaze to you, "—have found the only person in Seoul as crazy and fucked up as you to spend the rest of your life with, doesn’t make Min Yoongi any less of a perfect prince."

Hoseok grunted, crossing his arms dramatically as you broke into laughter. "You're not wrong," you hummed with a shrug, right as Hobi muttered defensively, "I don't have commitment issues."

It was Hobi’s turn to receive knowing looks from both of you before he sighed, dramatically slowing his pace as you reached the entrance of the meeting room. "Whatever, you guys suck."

Snickering softly, the three of you stepped inside, bowing politely to the handful of executives already seated around the large meeting table. As usual, the three of you were early, but you noticed that a few others had already claimed their seats. Unfortunately, there weren’t three consecutive spots left for you all to sit together.

Your gaze immediately went to the head of the table, the seat reserved for the CEO, which was still empty. You knew Jungkook was in a meeting with Kim Namjoon that had run overtime, so their arrival was indefinitely delayed.

The seat closest to the CEO’s chair—Namjoon’s usual spot—was unoccupied, but the one on the opposite end, typically claimed by you, Jimin, or Hobi, was already taken. You felt your blood boil when you saw Heejin, the newly appointed temp head of Communications while Sana Minatozaki was on maternity leave, sitting there comfortably, scrolling through a document on her laptop.

Jimin caught your eye, noticing Heejin as well, and gestured toward the chair next to her, silently offering it to you. You just shook your head, flashing a small smile as if to say, no fucking thanks. He and Hobi settled into two seats beside each other, leaving you to scan the rest of the room for an available spot.

Your options weren’t great.

A middle seat between Hailey and Vernon—two relentless chatterboxes from levels three and four—caught your eye. You grimaced immediately at the thought of being dragged into their non-stop, ping-pong conversation about god knows what. They could probably talk about fucking office supplies for hours if given the chance.

Then your gaze shifted to the next option: a seat next to Kang Minho, the scruffy finance head. As expected, he was already twirling a cigar between his fingers, his eyes twitching in clear defiance of the new no-smoking rule in meetings. The urge to light it was practically vibrating off him.

You sighed.

That left the only bearable choice: a seat next to Oh Sehun, the head of Technology and Innovation. He was known to be quiet and professional, and most importantly, he's least likely to annoy you.

Resigned, you pulled the chair next to Sehun, placing your laptop and phone on the table in front of you. He glanced over with a polite smile, nodding in greeting. You returned the gesture, settling into your seat and immediately focusing on starting up your laptop.

The room settled into a quiet lull, with only a few hushed conversations breaking the silence. Most of the attendees were either finishing up side discussions or preparing for the meeting as they trickled in. As your laptop booted up, you instinctively picked up your phone, slipping it under the table. Your fingers moved quickly, opening the location app and tapping on Jungkook’s name. The pin was still loading when you heard a throat clear beside you.

Oh, here we fucking go.

“Y/N-ssi?”

You locked your phone and turned toward Sehun with a forced smile. "Yes, Sehun-ssi. How can I help?"

His smile widened slightly, a little shy. "Uh, I just wanted to say… congratulations. Your promotion to Head of Operations & Efficiency—it's no small feat. Not an easy title to earn or handle. But I've seen your work, and it's… admirable. Truly."

You almost frowned, caught off guard. That was… really sweet.

"Oh," you replied, your voice softening. "Thank you, Sehun-ssi, that’s very kind of you. I appreciate it a lot." You smiled genuinely this time. "And I’ve heard a lot about you, too. Running your department is also no easy task, and you do it well."

Sehun grinned, his head dipping slightly as his ears turned a bit red. "Ah, thank you so much," he murmured, looking humbled. "I’ve learned a lot from our CEO, Jungkook-seonsaengnim. He’s incredible. One day, I hope to have my own business and run it just like him."

You bit the inside of your lip, warmth swelling in your chest at the compliment to your man. "He is," you agreed softly, your smile a little more private this time. "And I’m sure you will."

Sehun’s lip was caught between his teeth as his eyes seemed to linger just below yours, but before you could say anything else, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room, drawing your attention. You turned toward the entrance.

Jungkook and Namjoon strode into the room, their presence immediately commanding attention. Namjoon greeted the department heads with a dimply smile, but your eyes locked onto Jungkook. His gaze, however, wasn’t on you—it was unwaveringly fixed on Sehun’s reddened face. A flash of something dark crossed his features, and he didn’t spare you or anyone else a glance as he took his seat at the head of the table.

Straightening in your chair, you swallowed the scoff that rose in your throat. He didn’t even acknowledge you, his attention already on the file in front of him as he flipped through it silently. Namjoon’s eyes flickered over Jungkook’s hardened expression before realizing the CEO wouldn’t be opening the meeting. Clearing his throat, Namjoon stood up and took over.

"Good morning, everyone. Glad to see you all here," Namjoon greeted, flashing a bright, toothy smile. The room responded with polite murmurs. "We’ve got a full agenda today, so let’s start with—"

About thirty minutes into the meeting, you were still focused on your notes. Namjoon was wrapping up his discussion on a new marketing campaign strategy that had piqued your interest. You were typing up the last few points when Jungkook’s deep voice suddenly rang out. Your body reacted instantly, muscles relaxing after hearing him finally speak after what felt like hours of his silence.

"Sehun," Jungkook called out, his tone firm and commanding, and your head snapped up instinctively, surprised to find that Sehun had leaned over, perhaps about to whisper something to you while Namjoon was speaking.

"Did you have a question about the campaign strategy?" Jungkook’s voice was measured, but you felt the tension behind it.

Sehun jerked back, startled by the sudden attention. "Oh, I- no, sir, I was just—"

"Conversing with your colleague while your superior was in the middle of speaking," Jungkook finished for him, his dark gaze unwavering, pinning the tech head in place. "I'm sure I’d be more than capable of answering any questions you have regarding the project. Go ahead."

It wasn’t a suggestion—it was an order.

Sehun swallowed nervously, eyes flicking down to his laptop as if it held the answers. Then, foolishly, he glanced at you, probably hoping for some kind of lifeline. You could only offer him an apologetic look, knowing your boyfriend's ways.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched visibly, his irritation evident as he barked out, "Do you need her to speak for you?" His fist tightened on the table beside him, knuckles paling. "Are you that incompetent?"

Your gaze slowly shifted from Sehun, who was visibly shaken, to your boyfriend, who was fucking seething. You sighed softly, dropping your gaze back to your laptop, fingers resuming their typing with a small shake of your head.

And then his voice came again. A little softer, but still pissed. "Did you have something to add, Y/N?"

Your fingers froze mid-typing. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. You could feel every pair of eyes turning to you. Everyone knew about your relationship with Jungkook. It wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t exactly something you had announced over the firm intercom, either. Most of the department heads were aware and knew better than to draw attention to it, but there were still some, like poor Sehun, who hadn’t quite pieced it together yet.

When you looked up, Jungkook’s dark eyes were locked on you. From your peripheral, you saw Jimin and Hobi exchanging wide-eyed glances, while Heejin’s gaze flickered nervously between you and the CEO.

Every fiber in your bratty being wanted to fight back, make him repeat himself, ask him what the fuck he was trying to prove by putting you on the spot in front of a room full of department heads. But the professional in you won out, forcing you to bite your tongue.

You shook your head calmly. "No, sir." The silence was deafening. You turned to Namjoon, whose eyes were carefully trained on his papers. "My apologies, Namjoon-seongsaengnim," you said. "We didn’t mean to interrupt you. Please, continue."

Namjoon nodded appreciatively, sending you a brief smile before moving on. “Right, as I was saying…”

The meeting finally wrapped up, and everyone began packing up their things. Some were quicker than others to vacate the room, with Kang Minho leading the pack, cigar already halfway to his lips, lighter flicking in agitation.

You closed your laptop with a little more force than intended, irritation still simmering under your skin. Grabbing your jacket off the back of your chair, you stood, feeling Sehun shifting beside you, fumbling to gather his things. You could almost sense the apology hanging on the edge of his lips, and you sighed internally, praying he wouldn’t try and engage in conversation with you again.

Jimin and Hobi walked over, ready to leave, but your attention was drawn to Heejin’s voice as she spoke to Jungkook. Your movements slowed as you listened.

“Thank you for such a great meeting, seonsaengnim,” she said sweetly, her fingers tapping the edge of her laptop.

You clenched your jaw slightly, the inside of your cheek caught between your teeth. Namjoon had handled ninety percent of the presentation—what the fuck was she even thanking him for?

“I actually had a few concerns for the Communications department that I was hoping to run by you—"

"Take them up with your superior," Jungkook replied, not even bothering to glance her way as he slipped his phone into his pocket and made his way toward the door.

Heejin smiled, clearly undeterred as she closed her laptop and followed after him. "But you are my superior," she giggled. Your brows furrowed as you turned to look at her follow after your man like a lost puppy. Your grip on your laptop tightened.

Jungkook sighed, forgetting she had even been promoted recently. Still, he didn’t glance at her. “Make an appointment with one of my assistants, Heejin,” he said, his voice dripping with impatience. “I have somewhere to be. Excuse me, please.”

Excuse me, please? You rolled your eyes. Why doesn't he just tell her to get on her knees and get to work?

Heejin nodded, still all smiles as she left the room, laptop clutched to her chest. You gathered your things and fell into step with Jimin and Hobi. Jungkook paused near the end of the table, his gaze boring into you, but you ignored the stare, slipping between your friends as you headed out.

“Y/N-ssi,” Sehun’s voice cut through the air as he jogged to catch up with the three of you.

You sucked your teeth, glancing down at your watch. Fifteen minutes until your production conference. Enough time to grab something to eat since you’d skipped breakfast—thanks to Jungkook’s insistence on christening yet another room in your new house this morning. The laundry room, this time. And as it turns out, sex on top of a dryer was a lot better and less uncomfortable than you’d expected.

Jimin took your laptop from your hands, giving you a soft smile. "I’ll drop this off at your office. Hobi and I are heading that way."

You nodded in thanks, turning back to Sehun, only to catch Jungkook’s eyes glaring at you from behind the tech leader’s frame. His brows were furrowed, a silent question written all over his face—what the fuck are you doing?

Ignoring your fuming boyfriend, you refocused on Sehun. "You alright?" you asked.

Sehun nodded quickly. "Yeah, I just—" He started to say more but stopped abruptly, his body stiffening as if he could feel Jungkook's glare on the back of his neck. Turning, he blinked, clearly startled to see the CEO still there. "Oh—hi, sir. Once again, I’m so sorry about—"

"It’s okay, Sehun-ssi," you cut him off, drawing his attention back to you. "I need to grab something to eat. Is this important?"

Sehun shifted nervously. "Ah, well... it can wait." His ears were going red again. "How much time do you have? Did you want to stop by the cafe on level 10 before your conference? I was heading there anyway—"

At that, Jungkook’s head snapped up, his gaze zeroing in as he pushed himself off the table. You stepped around Sehun, positioning yourself between him and your clearly furious boyfriend.

"No, thank you, Sehun. I’ll catch you later, okay?" You kept your tone light, ignoring the fact that you had definitely not told him that you were on your way to a conference.

Sehun, still a bit confused, turned slightly to see what had you moving so quickly. And that’s when he saw it—Jungkook’s dark, cold glare burning holes through him. Before Sehun could stutter another word, Jungkook’s eyes flicked down to you, noting the goosebumps on your arms. He grabbed the jacket from your hands and silently made you slip your arms into it.

That’s when the realization hit Sehun like a fucking brick.

His face went ghostly pale, and you could visibly see him swallow nervously. "Oh my god… are you—are you two—"

You nodded simply, sliding your arms into the jacket as Jungkook remained silently brooding behind you.

"I—I am so—sir, I’m so sorry! I would never—"

"Sehun-ssi, it’s fine." You gave him a polite, almost bored smile. "Let's talk later."

Sehun barely managed a shaky nod before he bolted, red-faced and flustered, out of the room.

"You’re such a jealous psycho," you muttered under your breath, turning to face Jungkook, who was still fuming quietly. You puckered your lips for a kiss.

Jungkook just glared, his eyes flicking to your lips for a moment before leaning down to give you a quick, soft peck. You frowned, leaning in for another, but he pulled back, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Why’d you sit there?" he asked, glancing down at your jacket, noticing you hadn’t done up the top two buttons. When he reached to fasten them, you smacked his hand away, refusing to let him make you look like a nun.

"Because your girlfriend was in my usual seat," you shot back, poking him in the stomach before turning on your heel and heading toward the door.

"And I’m the jealous one?" he muttered, flicking the lights off as he followed behind you.

"Yes," you hummed, walking down the now-empty hall, clear of all the departmental seniors and visitors.

You reached the elevator when Jungkook’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek as you reached out to press the down arrow.

"That poor boy almost pissed himself because of you."

"I felt like I was very soft on him," Jungkook shrugged, taking a deep inhale of your honey scented skin before pressing a kiss to your neck and standing upright. His hands slipped under your jacket to rest on your belly over your blouse, his fingers grazing your skin gently. "Could’ve been a lot worse."

You chuckled, rolling your eyes, but couldn’t resist the urge to look up at his adorable pout. You puckered your lips again, and this time, he gave in, leaning down for a proper kiss. Spinning in his arms, his hands fell naturally to rest on your ass as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

A soft moan escaped your lips when his tongue slid between them, licking into your mouth in the way only he could. It felt like only milliseconds before the elevator dinged, snapping you back to reality. You reluctantly pulled away, biting his lip gently before spinning around to face the opening doors.

The elevator revealed Kim Namjoon, standing there with his head tilted, eyebrow raised. "Jungkook-ah, the board is waiting. Answer your fuckin' phone, man," the CCO huffed, gesturing for you both to step inside with a hurried wave of his hand.

You smiled at Namjoon and walked into the elevator, Jungkook right behind you. His hand found its way back to your belly, rubbing absentmindedly as you hit the button for level 12.

Namjoon scrolled through something on his phone, snickering. "What time are you planning on getting there tonight, Kook? The RSVP says 6, but they don’t start serving drinks until 8, so I'll be there around 9," he chuckled.

Your ears perked up at the mention of the event. You fiddled with Jungkook’s tattooed fingers on your stomach, glancing up at him as you waited for him to respond.

"For what?" Jungkook asked, not looking up from his phone.

You almost frowned at his response. He already told you he had a sponsorship function tonight. Jungkook never forgets things like that.

Namjoon barely glanced up. "That promo celebration for the girl taking over for Sana-ssi?" He explained, locking his phone and leaning back. "Shit, I forgot if we need to bring gifts. I'll check with my assistant—"

You didn’t hear anything after that. Everything faded, the muffled sounds of the elevator blending together like white noise. Jungkook’s hand stiffened against your stomach, and that was all the confirmation you needed.

He hadn’t gotten his schedule mixed up. He knew damn well what event Namjoon was referring to. The "sponsorship function" was actually a celebration for that dirty slut from level 7, and that dirty slut from level 7 had gotten a permanent promotion, which would bring her even closer when fucking working with him.

The elevator doors slid open, and without a second thought, you shoved Jungkook’s hand off you and stormed out.

"Baby," Jungkook was immediately on your tail, ignoring Namjoon’s confused calls from behind.

"Wh— Jungkook-ah? What the fuck? Where are you going?"

"Baby, wait." Jungkook's voice was tense as he caught up to you, but when his hand reached out to grab your arm, you shoved it off aggressively.

"I’m so fucking serious right now, don’t touch me, Jungkook." You spat, whipping around to face him. He just shook his head, trying to step closer, but you put your hand up, keeping him at a distance. "I’m not fucking kidding—"

"Baby, listen to me—" he tried, his voice urgent.

"Get the fuck away from me," you snapped, digging into your pocket for your phone, your fingers trembling as you scrolled through your contacts. "God, you know I fucking hate it when you lie, and you just—" You groaned, your fist tightening around your phone as you shoved his hands off you once again.

"Who are you texting?" Jungkook frowned, trying to get a look at your phone over your shoulder.

"None of your fucking business," you spat, stepping out of his reach.

"Y/N, don't. If you're not going to let me explain—"

"My mom," you snapped sarcastically, your fingers flying across the screen as you started typing. "They finally adapted technology so you can get cell reception six feet underground now. It's great."

Jungkook scoffed, clearly unamused, but he continued following closely behind you as you started walking again. "If you can lie to me, then I can fucking lie to you, right?" you added mockingly.

He tried to grab your phone, but you dodged him, sending the message just in time. His jaw tightened when he saw the screen. "Like hell you’re sleeping at Jimin’s tonight, are you fucking crazy?"

"Well, I’m not staying in a house with a fucking liar, that’s for sure," you shot back, your tone sharp as you moved further away from him.

"You’re not staying at Jimin’s," he repeated firmly, his voice absolute.

His certainty made you laugh bitterly. "I’m staying at Jimin’s or I’m staying at Hyungwon’s. You fucking choose."

Jungkook’s fists clenched at his sides, his face hardening in disbelief. "Why the fuck would you say that, Y/N?"

"I don't have anywhere to go, Jungkook!" Your voice rose, frustration and pain bubbling to the surface. You could feel eyes on you from the staff scattered around the floor, but you didn’t care. "You are my home. I don’t have anywhere else to fucking—"

Jungkook’s expression softened when your voice broke, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He stepped closer, his hands slipping under your jacket, palms smoothing down your hips. "Then don't fucking go, baby. Just don’t go anywhere, please. Don’t go to Jimin’s." He begged.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt the warmth of his hands, the familiar comfort of his body close to yours. His face rested in the crook of your neck, and despite your anger, you found yourself leaning into him slightly, knowing full well that getting to your conference on time now was just a lost cause.

"Tell me why you lied then," you mumbled, your voice quieter, your sniffles betraying you.

Jungkook pulled back, his thumbs swiping gently under your eyes, wiping the tears away before they could fully form. His fingers brushed under your nose as he wiped away the dribble there. "Because I knew it would upset you. We’ve been doing so well in our new place, baby—I didn’t want anything to ruin it." His voice was soft, almost pleading. "I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was only going to make an appearance and come home straight away."

You studied his face, your own expression softening despite the anger still bubbling inside you. You understood him, you really did. But you still hated when he lied. "Then why didn’t you just ask me to go with you?" Your voice wavered, doubt creeping in despite yourself. "Did you... not want to be seen with me?"

You didn’t even know where the self-doubt was coming from. Jungkook loved you. He loved letting people know you were his. He didn’t care who was around when he kissed you or rested a hand on your body, claiming you without shame. But something about Heejin… She got under your skin in a way that you couldn’t describe. Maybe it was because she’d been here longer, known him longer. She was going to be in meetings with him now—department head meetings, one-on-one meetings. The thought alone made you feel sick.

Jungkook sighed, his hands cupping your cheeks, and pressed two quick, soft kisses on your lips. "Don’t say dumb shit like that," he murmured, his voice soft but firm. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with yours. "I wanted to have a joint office, but you said that was unprofessional or whatever." He rolled his eyes, giving you a little smirk.

You blinked, hugging your arms around yourself, stepping back a little. "Then why?" Your voice was quieter now, laced with the confusion and hurt you couldn’t hide. "Why didn’t you want me to go? I’ve gone with you to plenty of functions."

Jungkook hesitated, and you felt the tension settle back into the air between you. His silence weighed heavy, and that familiar twist of anxiety and anger began to gnaw at you again.

"It’s because of Hyungwon, isn’t it?" you asked, even though you already knew the answer. "You didn’t want me to go because people from his firm are going to be there, and he could be too, right?"

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his eyes hardening slightly as he averted your gaze. He didn’t need to say anything. His silence confirmed everything.

You let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking your head. Not only did he keep you away from a party celebrating the one woman you couldn’t stand the most when it came to him, but he also made sure you didn’t go because of the one man he had a problem with the most when it came to you was attending.

"Fucking hypocrite," you muttered, stepping further back from him, your stomach turning in disgust.

"Baby, it’s not like that—" he started, his tone filled with urgency.

"Then what is it like, Jungkook?" Your voice rose again, frustration spilling out as you threw your hands up. "You didn’t tell me about the party because you knew it would piss me off that it’s for Heejin. But you also didn’t want me to go because there was a chance Hyungwon could be there! So, what? I can’t go because you have a problem, but I’m supposed to sit at home and wait for you like a fucking housewife while you go to a party for a bitch that you know I can’t stand? How the fuck does that make sense?"

Jungkook’s face was a mixture of guilt and frustration. He took a step toward you, but you held up your hand again, stopping him in his tracks.

"God, can you just go away?" you spat, your voice trembling slightly as you felt the tears begin to well up again. Shaking your head, you started to walk away.

"Baby," Jungkook grunted, his frustration growing as he followed you.

"No, Jungkook. I need space. Seriously." You didn’t even turn around, your voice sharp as you neared your office.

"We don’t do space. That’s not how we work," he argued, right behind you.

"Well, maybe we need to start doing space," you snapped, reaching for the door handle.

Before you could pull the door open, Jungkook grabbed your wrist, spinning you around to face him. His eyes were intense, wild, like he was barely keeping himself together. "If you keep walking away from me, I'm going to follow you into that conference room and make you sit in my fucking lap during your entire presentation."

The seriousness in his voice made you want to roll your eyes, but you kept your expression blank, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched when you didn’t answer, but he didn’t stop. "I can’t have you two in the same room, Y/N." His voice was low, almost dangerous, as if just saying Hyungwon’s name triggered something in him.

You just blinked, still silent.

“If I see him anywhere near you, I’ll kill him.” Jungkook said it simply, like it was just another fact. “I wouldn’t regret it. But they probably won’t let you stay in my cell with me, would they, baby?” His brows furrowed, head tilting as he asked, like he was genuinely curious to know the answer.

a/n i cut it here because the rest is nawttt edited at all and very rough 😬 but any takers on a part 3 ??!!?! just give me 6 months and it's all yours xx

[arachine]

yes, i'm ready (to fall in love)

── ˚₊✩‧₊ genre: smut, fluff, mild angst

── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis: after reader is persuaded into putting herself back out there by long time friend, shoko, she successfully ends up scoring a date. unbeknownst to her, though, the gods have different plans—and one of them seems especially interested in her relationship with ex-husband, gojo satoru.

or in other words: a failed date results in a night of passion amongst former lovers.

── ˚₊✩‧₊ contents: 13.5k words, ex-husband!gojo + co-parent!gojo, slight dub-con (alcohol use), dumbification, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, unconventional form of contraception (pull-out method - don’t do this), pussy eating + one oc for the sake of plot

── ˚₊✩‧₊ note: i know this is really long and most people don’t have the attention span for it but PLEASE give it a chance! this is literally the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written and i’m really proud of it :(

songs to listen to for best reading experience: donny hathaway - i love you more than you’ll ever know barbara mason - i’m ready partynextdoor - showing you bryson tiller - been that way

After you divorced your ex-husband, and decided to devote all of your time to being a mother, you never really considered getting back into the dating world. Not that you didn’t eventually want to settle down with someone new, but the dating world now was just so–different.

Different in the sense that meeting people organically was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like how it used to be in high school or college, and it really didn’t take that much effort then to get a man’s number by the end of your outing. 

When you were in your early twenties, a brush of your hand on a man’s arm would’ve worked. An ‘accidental’ bump into someone at a grocery store or cafe might’ve ended in a quick lay. Using these tactics today, though, might earn you some weird looks–have–earned you some weird looks. 

You’re on call with a friend from college when you begin recounting something embarrassing that happened to you recently. At first, the conversation started out about all of the professors you would’ve slept with (if given the chance), but then, one thing led to another, and she asked you something that made you wince: 

“‘How’s your dating life been since, you know, Satoru?’” 

There’s a heavy silence from your end, and she almost thinks you hung up. 

“I mean, if you want to share,” she splurts, attempting to approach this gently, “I know that after the divorce, I wasn’t there for you like you needed, but I’d like to make up for that–if you’d let me.”

Shoko’s always been like that. Blunt and charismatic, but gentle and zephyr-light in the way she cares for those closest to her. It’s a trait of hers that you admire, because not so many people would care to treat your heart with such fragility.

“No, it’s okay. You can ask, you know, it’s not this secret thing,” you start, sighing before continuing, “it happened, and it was a mutual decision.”

Shoko hums on the other side, “Well, I’m still sorry. I let us go without talking for far too long…”

“Well, I accept your apology, even if it’s unwarranted. Like I said, it was mutual and…there wasn’t really an intense grieving period for me? The only thing that hurt me is that you distanced yourself. I mean, the girls did miss their aunt Shoko…” you say, trying to make her feel bad but not too bad. 

“I know, I know, I’m a bad aunt,” she jests, then the tone shifts to something serious. “I think I was just scared because both of you were my best-friends. I didn’t want to ‘pick sides’, but I see now that it was a mutual decision, so I’m assuming you two are on good-terms?” 

Again, you pause, “I mean, yeah. Satoru will always be my best friend. We may not be together romantically but he’s such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t do this–all of this–alone.” After you say it, you feel a weight being lifted off of your chest that you didn’t know was even there. 

You think nobody would understand if you told them this. You think they’d question how a person could divorce someone who’s supposed to be their best-friend. And with the way you describe it, they’d probably think you were still in love with him. But Shoko’s different, she gets it. Which is why saying it to her came so easily. 

“He is a great father,” she chimes in, “but you two rushed into it so quickly, I don’t think either of you had time to discover yourselves after college.”

Although she can’t see it, you smile. Because she gets it. Even if time did place itself in between the two of you, she was there for most of it, when things were still touch-and-go. When things were fresh, and clumsy. 

“Exactly, that was our biggest gripe,” you admit, “We didn’t afford ourselves that time to grow, and I think that hindered our relationship. We weren’t husband and wife first, we were parents–and we were young, way too young.”

“You made it, though,” Shoko tries to brighten the mood, “you’re both amazing parents, and I know those beautiful girls that you created are lucky to have you.” 

The intimacy of the conversation sends your emotions into overdrive. You quickly realize how much you missed her, how much you yearned to talk to her. To reconnect on this level. 

A single tear cascades down your cheek, and you try not to sound like you’re crying when you say, “Ok, enough about that. You wanted to know about my shitty dating life, right?”

It happened last week, the grocery store incident. You were out picking up a few things for dinner when you spotted a cute guy standing outside of the aisle a few rows from you. He was fit beyond measure, in looks and strength, and was wandering around aimlessly in pursuit of red pepper flakes. 

Coincidentally, you just happened to be in the seasoning aisle, and like the good samaritan you were, decided to personally hand-deliver it to him. 

You wince as you vividly recall the embarrassing ordeal that ensued immediately after. 

“Hey,” you peer from behind the aisle, with a bottle of red pepper flakes in tow. “I heard you mumbling about finding this, and you looked pretty lost, so I thought I’d pick ‘em out for you.” 

The man’s brows furrow briefly before his lips up-turn into a grateful smile, “Oh, cool, thank you so much!” As quickly as the conversation started, it ends even quicker. He gives you a final nod of endearment before he’s turning around on his heels to resume his shopping. 

“God, could he be any more dense? The men today really make you work for it, huh?” you mumble to yourself, pulling the bosom of your blouse down until a good amount of cleavage is on display. “Okay, alright. You got this, you got this. This always used to work, right? Yeah, men love boobs.”

Walking up to the man again, you try a different approach–a bolder approach. “Not to be a bother but I was wondering if I could-”

“Babe? Oh, there you are,” a new voice interjects. The owner of the voice emerges from around the corner and walks up to the man with a cart and a baby in tow. You’re stunned, to say the least. All you can do is stand there and blink in complete and utter dumbfoundment. As you remain in their presence, you take a moment to analyze the woman. She’s gorgeous, and toned. A real model-type broad, with feline-ish features that make so much sense paired with the man who appears to be her partner. 

Oh, you think, and apparently say aloud, too. That’s when the woman turns to you, finally acknowledging your much smaller, and much quieter presence. 

“Hi, can we help you?” she smiles, and it’s actually genuine. Toothy and perfect, and totally not jealous. You blink once, twice, before gathering your wits to answer her question. 

“Yeah, uh, no. I actually, uhm, was helping your h-husband. He was looking for red pepper flakes,” you mutter embarrassedly, and point to the bottle in his hand. Upon further observation, you notice that she isn’t exactly wearing a ring. You find this odd, especially because his not wearing a ring is what encouraged you to pursue him. Carefully, you prod. 

“If I may ask, how come neither of you are wearing rings?” The couple gives each other a look, one that makes you feel like the odd man out. A look that is universally known, and without a doubt, could easily be translated to: ‘did this chick really just ask that?’

Still, you smile as you wait for an answer. The woman takes the initiative. “Yeah, we don’t really believe in rings, isn’t that right, babe?” she says so matter-of-factly. You blink again for what seems like the thousandth time, because of all things, you did not expect that to come out of her mouth. Her husband is quick to validate her statement. 

“Yeah, we think rings are unnecessary, you know? You don’t need a piece of metal to confirm your feelings,” he says walking to his partner’s side and wrapping an arm around her. 

Disgustingly, the two give each other googly eyes before locking lips briefly. You can tell they’re the type to probably share this information with just about any soul who asks. Today, you just happened to be that unfortunate soul. 

“Are you married?” she queries, tilting her head against her husband’s chest.

“I was, now we just…co-parent,” you purse your lips, ready for this entire interaction to be over. The woman frowns at your answer, and this time it’s not as genuine.

“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was actually a mutual decision,” you quip.

“Okay,” she smiles, widening her eyes at her husband to signal a departure, ���well, it was nice meeting you, and thank you for the red pepper flakes.”

The family turns away and heads to the front where check-out is. You don’t even buy the items you intended to purchase, just leave your cart in the middle of whatever aisle you abandoned it and leave the store.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t?” Shoko asks in horror. You nod your head, still forgetting she can’t see you and the way you’re sliding down against the wall. 

“I did, and I shan't ever again,” a laugh erupts from your throat. 

“I mean, fuck, are we getting old? ‘Don’t believe in rings,’” she mumbles, “Don’t believe in rings, my ass! Is this what the youth are doing these days? Not proposing with rings?”

Now that you think about it, you wonder how that would even work. “Yeah, right? I mean, how does that even work? ‘Will you marry me? But, actually, you should know I don’t have a ring for you, so people will have to guess that we’re together purely based on vibes and energy,’” you mock, in a not-so-great man voice. 

Shoko’s laughing so hard by the end of your bit that she breaks the sound barrier, and the sound that makes on the phone sends you into your own fit of laughter. You laugh so hard it seems like a stream of pee comes out. Curse your developed incontinence after motherhood.

“God, you’re so stupid, I can’t breathe,” she says exasperatedly, and you know that on the other side she’s probably keeling over in her bed. 

“Oh, please. I bet you haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, bitch.”

“I haven’t,” she cackles. This back-and-forth continues until the two of you settle down enough to continue discussing your (pee-inducing) love life. 

“You tried any dating apps?” 

It’s a simple and valid question, but it only makes you laugh even harder. You only stop when the other side of the line goes quiet. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. It’s what everyone’s doing these days! You’re not that old, you know.”

“Shut up,” you kid, “ it’s just that I never considered it. I mean, dating apps feel so impersonal. How serious do people even take it?” 

“Sure, there’s people who use it for casual hook-ups and stuff, but a lot of people do come out of it with a relationship. Just don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”

“Oh?” you muse, curious. You wish Shoko could see your face, and the weird little dance your brows were doing. “Shoko, have you used a dating app before?” 

The brunette kisses her teeth. “Can’t get anything past you.”

“Never.”

There’s a sense of hesitance but you encourage her to elaborate because ‘she became estranged from you for almost a decade and needed to pay her dues’. Sighing defeatedly, she eventually acquiesces. 

“Fine, fine, maybe I’ve…been on a few dates,” she starts, “–and had a few one night stands, maybe more than a few, and maybe even dated a guy that turned into my stalker–”

“Ieiri Shoko! You naughty, naughty girl! Wait, stalker?”

“To make a long story short, I got a restraining order on that creep. Anyway,” she segues, attempting to change the subject, “We should make you a profile!”

For the rest of your phone call, Shoko guides you through all of the dating app basics. She offers her expert advice as you scroll through your camera roll for potential photos to use. You go through about a hundred before you finally settle on five that she really likes. 

The one that she tells you to put first is a photo of you in a bikini. It’s a few years old but she says you look ‘radiant’ and that your ‘tits were practically spilling out of the cups’. Plus, for further consolation, she says most people on dating apps are liars. 

“Everyone’s got at least one old photo on their profile, doesn’t make you a catfish,” she quips, “just means you’re a nostalgic person!” 

“Right…” 

The next one is a selfie. You’re smiling big in it, showing your gums, and it’s genuine. Shoko says guys like those types of photos because it shows them that you’re approachable. It also won her over because it’s fairly recent, too. 

Out of all your photos, there’s only a select few that were taken within the year. You had to admit to her that you never really took photos of yourself anymore. Satoru took most of your candids. Still, she had a mission. And she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she stuck around to see your first match. 

“After the selfie you should put the one of you with the girls.”

The picture she’s referring to is one Satoru also took. You remember that day fondly, and even now, the memories feel like a warm embrace. 

about 8 years ago . . .

“Dad, mom, look! Hurry!” Hana, your oldest, shouts. Satoru and you are sitting on a blanket up on the sand dunes with Haruki, who’s trying her best to make a sand castle–to no avail. 

“What is it, hon?” Satoru and you rush over to her, snatching toddler Haruki in the same breath. When you get to the scene, a flood of warmth washes over you upon discovering the ‘threat’. 

“See, it’s baby turtles!” Hana’s squatting in the sand, watching with pure and unfettered fascination as the hatchlings crawl north to the ocean. When she looks up at you, with eyes so bright, and a smile so big that’s missing two of her front teeth, you want to cry. 

“Oh, hon, that’s beautiful,” you gasp, lowering to your haunches so that you can join her. Satoru is about to follow suit before deciding at the last minute to go back to the blanket. When he returns, he snaps a picture unbeknownst to you. Eventually, though, you turn your gaze to him and he captures–what he used to think then–the ‘prettiest’ photo of you.

“You sneaking photos of me?” you squint, pointing at him. He trods closer until he’s standing above you. Then he snaps another. Your head’s tilted up, and you’ve got one eye open, and the other closed because of the sun. He always liked when you squinted like that because it made your nose do this cute little scrunch. 

“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”

You’re pulled out of your daydream when Shoko says your name on the other line.

“You still there?” 

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“Just what?” she queries, waiting for a response. 

“I wanna use it, but my ex-husband took it. It feels weird, you know? And do I want to use a photo of me with the girls?”

“Hon, who cares if Satoru took the photo? It’s still a good photo, and to answer your second question, why wouldn’t you include a picture with your girls?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just afraid no one will be interested. Nothing about a picture of a mom with her two daughters exactly screams ‘fuck me’.”

Shoko lets out a small chuckle but you’re being serious. “Oh, sweetie. You’re so cute. Milfs are in these days, I don’t think I’m the one getting old, I think it’s just you!”

“Ha-ha, laugh at the mom,” you feign annoyance, but give her a laugh in return.

“But seriously, please use that photo. Nobody’s going to skip you just because you’re a mom. A lot of men on there have kids of their own, just gotta tweak your settings,” Shoko reassures you.

By the end of your call, the profile is set. You thank your old friend for the previous heart-to-heart conversation, and the time she spent helping you set up your profile.

“Keep me updated, and don’t talk about mom stuff, okay? Now, I’m not saying you can’t talk about them,” she begins, “but show these guys your personality! I know she’s in the closet somewhere hiding next to our old slutty clubbing clothes.”  

Then, the both of you say your goodbyes and she wishes you a good-luck on your newly established dating journey. As you lay in your bed, you give your profile a final onceover. Not too bad, you think to yourself. 

You ended up using all of the photos she had originally picked out for you. Even the beach photo. To compensate for your old photos, though, Shoko made sure that your prompts were witty and full of personality. 

“I’d match me, I think. No, yeah, these are funny. She did a good job.”

The following day, you open your phone to fifty notifications from the dating app. A tingle of excitement shoots through your body from the tip of your toes, to the top of your head. It takes all of your might not to squeal in the office. 

“Holy fuck,” you whisper at your desk. The amount of notifications that you initially saw on your homescreen read ‘50’ but when you opened the app, it showed you an overwhelming ‘100’ with a fat plus sign next to it. “Wait, are these all the people who liked me? Shoko’s gonna flip.” 

Getting up from your chair, you make a beeline to the nearest bathroom. Not that you have to use it, but so you can scroll through all the potential prospects without your boss seeing you on your phone. 

Pulling open the door to the bathroom, you close it shut behind you and lock it. A few minutes pass in the time you’re able to get through about half of the people who liked you. You end up skipping a lot of them. They’re either too young, too self-absorbed, creepy, or just downright not your type. 

Some stick out, though. Even trick you into thinking they’re potential matches, but then the other shoe drops–because there’s always another shoe. You’ll scroll through their profiles, and they’ll seemingly have all the perfect traits: intelligent, witty, handsome, tall–and then, boom. You see their ‘don’t want kids’ preference. Every failed match only discourages you more and more. 

It’s weird, because your profile preferences are set to ‘have kids’ and you even have a photo pictured with your girls. So why are men liking your profile despite that? After a few more scrolls, you’re just about ready to head back to your desk but then–you have a hit. 

Your finger hovers over the ‘x’ at the bottom of the screen, then retracts. The guy’s profile at first impression is miles better than the rest, it’s almost too good to be true. His first photo is what piqued your interest. It’s of him posing for a silly photo with his sons, and he’s got his arms draped around their shoulders. 

As you scroll down his profile, you see that there’s even more of him with his children. You take this as a green flag. He wants people to know he has kids, and that he isn’t embarrassed to show them off. You admire him for it. 

The last few remaining photos are an amalgamation of selfies and full-body photos. To the average, well-adjusted adult, looks wouldn’t be a deal breaker. But he definitely wasn’t too bad on the eyes, and you were not complaining about that–especially, after the odd men you had to scroll through to get here. In other words, he was gorgeous and still fit despite being older than you (him, respectively being in his early forties). 

Checking the time on your phone, you realize that you’re pushing your little ‘bathroom break’. Before heading back to your desk, you decide to respond to his first photo.

You: Cute! Could never get my girls to stand so still for a photo like this now haha :)

Work goes by slower than you’d like, but finishes up just in time when you get a notification from the dating app. You’re a little more excited than you’d care to admit. Tidying up your workspace, you say your goodbyes to your colleagues and head to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, you rush to answer his message but realize it won’t go through because of the elevator’s poor service.

Kazuki: Oh, they’re moody and grown now, don’t be fooled. I can't remember the last time I saw my youngest smile. 

You don’t answer his reply until you get home. Actually, you do just about everything but answer his reply: check on the girls, shower, prepare dinner, pour a glass of wine–you’re nervous, and you don’t know why. But you know you should probably answer soon before he becomes disinterested. So you get comfortable in bed with your glass of wine and pull open his chat.

You: Lol, know that all too well. Kids are little assholes, aren’t they?

The speed in which he reads your text is startling, you don’t even have enough time to close out of the chat. Then, he responds. 

Kazuki: Hell yeah they are! 

Kazuki: Sometimes I want to strangle my youngest. He’s at that age where he’s starting to rebel and question everything. I told him he was supposed to be the ‘easy’ one, but his knucklehead brothers are bad influences on him…Tell me, does it ever get easier?

You: Sounds a lot like my oldest. She used to cling to me like a koala but now she’s the ring leader, and I’m the enemy. My youngest still loves her mama, though (for now lol). 

You: And to answer your question, I’d like to think so? 

You take a second before continuing your response. Shoko told you to keep the mom talk limited, but this seems to be working for you so far, and he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. So for once, you’re going to ignore her advice. 

You: Kids go through phases. It's our job to reassure them that we’re not going anywhere. No matter how much they push us away or try to, that is :)

Kazuki’s chat bubbles pop up, then disappear. You think he’s deciding on what to say. 

Kazuki: I can tell we’re gonna get along great. It’s nice opening up like this, you know? Talking to another parent. If I'm being honest, dating apps have always intimidated me…

Kazuki: People see kids as ‘baggage’, and it really bothers me. My kids aren’t baggage. They’re the best parts of me. And if someone doesn’t see that, then we have no business getting to know each other. 

Kazuki: Sorry for getting all sappy. Just felt like I needed to say it. 

His apology makes you frown. It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear someone talk about their kids so lovingly, because you feel the exact same way. You’re glad you downloaded the app, and you make a mental note to thank Shoko again later (after you debrief her about this). 

You: Never apologize for speaking about your kids! And if we’re being absolutely transparent, that was my biggest gripe with downloading this app, too. 

You: I’m so glad we matched each other. I’d like to get to know you more. And I’m hoping the feeling’s mutual?

Kazuki: It’s more than mutual. 

Kazuki: Don’t want to get ahead of myself but how do you feel about dinner? There’s a cool high-scale restaurant in the city that I haven’t been to yet. Heard it’s got two Michelin stars despite opening up not too long ago. 

The prospect of going on a sit-down dinner date has your stomach in knots. It’s been a hot minute since the last time you’ve done so, but you’re eager to know the man behind the screen on a more personal level. Plus, being treated to a high-scale restaurant with two Michelin stars doesn’t seem too bad either. You’re never one to turn down free dinner.

You: I’d love to, but how soon we talkin’? Gotta see if it’ll align with my schedule.

Kazuki: How’s this Friday at 8 sound? :)

The days leading up to Friday breeze by in a blur. For the majority of the week, it feels like you’re walking on cloud nine. Eventually, the conversation transitions from the dating app to exchanging phone numbers, and since then, the two of you have been texting back-and-forth everyday.

You talk about mundane things. Work, shows, movies, books you’ve recently read, what your kids are up to–but the other things? The other messages are flirty, and sexy, and filled with so much tension that it could cut a rope in half. 

In between messages, the two of you have also exchanged a few photos. Nothing risqué or anything of that nature, just random photos of you throughout the day. The last one he sent was a few hours ago of him at work, captioned with: ‘Could this meeting be any longer?’. 

You reply to the message with the ‘ha ha’ reaction, in consideration of not wanting to get him in trouble at work (even if he was the one who initiated the conversation). As the days go by, though, you make it a habit to update Shoko every step of the way. 

Her first reaction to hearing about him was enthusiastic. That is, until you showed her screenshots from his profile. You vaguely remember her saying something that was meant as a compliment, but came out more like an insult. 

“‘Oh, he’s a dad!” was her initial response, “oh, he’s a dad…and he really loves his kids. You’re meant for each other.’” 

When you tried to ask her what she meant by that, she changed the subject. Every update since then has earned slightly more positive reactions, though.

Today, you ask her for more advice. Only this time, you’re on video call. 

“Shokoooo,” you drawl, “our date is tomorrow! You have to help me find something to wear.” The panic in your voice is so palpable, she can almost feel your shaky hands through the screen. Flipping the camera, you hurriedly pan your phone around the closet. 

“Breathe, girl, breathe,” she demonstrates first, before telling you to repeat the same motions. “Take me to that section over there–no, not that one–wait, yep, there.” You amble over to the area she’s directing you to through the phone.

“What’s that black little number right there?” She points. You prop the phone up on a shelf and scour through the section, tugging out a dress you haven’t seen in ages (which has you questioning how she even spotted it because it was pretty far back into the closet). Walking back into frame, you hold the fabric up to your body. 

Shoko nods in approval, “That’s the one, babe. Try it on!” 

It’d been about a decade since the last time you wore this dress. It’d also been about a decade since you were ever this small. Looking in the mirror, you run your hands over every surface inch, every crevice of the dress, in a newfound sense of appreciation for the adult weight you’ve gained since becoming a mother. 

The dress was always stunning but it hugged everything perfectly even more so now. When you walk back into frame, your friend gives you a look of pure adoration. She’s so enthralled that she snaps a few screenshots for keepsaking. 

“Thank god it’s Satoru’s turn to get the kids tonight,” she says, “‘cause you’re definitely getting some tonight.” 

You roll your eyes, reminding her she’s on speaker phone. “Oh, please. It’s just dinner!”

“Not in that dress,” she retorts, wagging her finger in the camera. While the two of you continue to chat about the details of tonight, a knock on your bedroom door draws your attention. 

“Mom, can I come in?” the voice sounds. It’s Haruki. 

“Come in, hon!” 

After you give the ok, you turn to Shoko and mouth to her to behave. Haruki turns the knob and enters, closing the door behind her. She sees you standing in front of the mirror before you see her, and silently utters a ‘wow’. You’re just about done putting your earrings in when you join her in the other room. 

“What do you think, bun? Does your mom look hot?” you spin around, smoothing your hands down the length of the dress. You wait in anticipation for her approval, because if anyone could tell it like it is, it was always going to be a kid. Your Haruki was no exception. 

“You look really pretty, Mom. I’m glad you’re going out tonight, I mean, you don’t really have friends so I think this will be good for you,” she elaborates, though you wish she would’ve stopped at the compliment. 

Still, it puts a smile on your face to hear her verbalize that she’s okay with you doing something for yourself. You never quite discussed the prospect of getting back out there with your kids–and not even intentionally. It just never felt like the right time. 

“You could’ve stopped at the compliment, punk!” you grab her, then wrap her in your arms, “but thank you. Love you, bun.”

“Love you more, mama.” Neither of you make the effort to pull away. Instead, you both stand there. Hugging, breathing, embracing each other’s warmth. You don’t always get hugs this good, so when you do, you savor it. Drag it out until your arms and legs get all tingly. 

Or until someone interrupts. Another knock on the door. This time it’s Hana. 

“Ew, what’s going on?” Hana feigns a look of disgust. You know she’s just jealous; she’ll never admit it, though. Which is why sometimes you have to force her to participate. 

“Get over here,” you scrunch your nose, forcefully pulling her into your tight embrace. She tries to protest but eventually accepts defeat. You squeeze them both until they whine that they can’t breathe anymore. Then you squeeze them some more because this one’s for you. 

“My special girls,” you breathe in, taking in all of their love. Soaking it all up so that tonight you have the courage to try again. To allow yourself a love of your own. When you let go, there’s a sniffle from the closet. It totally dawned on you that Shoko was still on the phone. 

“They’re so big now, they don’t even know their auntie,” she fakes a sob, blowing her nose into a tissue. 

“Mom, who’s on the phone?” Haruki queries with a confused expression etched onto her face. It suddenly dawns on you again that although you’ve been communicating with Shoko again, you haven’t exactly told them. 

“Hey, you came in here to tell me something right, Han?” Your attempt to change the subject is poorly done, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you considering deflection has never quite been an ability you excelled at. Nonetheless, the look of suspicion they give you after is fleeting before they explain to you in unison that their father is here. 

“Your father’s been waiting down there this whole time and nobody cared to tell me?” you whisper-yell, left eye twitching to emphasize your ill-preparedness. The girls only shrug their shoulders in response, like this was something you were just supposed to know. 

“Well, you did force us into a hug and make us do all that Kumbaya stuff,” Hana mumbles under her breath.

“Okay, enough about all that. Are you guys all packed? Where are your bags? I don’t want your dad seeing–” 

“You don’t want dad to see your date, right?” Hana raises a brow, all knowing. Sometimes she was a little too smart for her own good. You want to blame that on the private schools Satoru had them enrolled in, but really you just know she’s just a menace in her own right. She learned that from him. 

“I agree with the kid,” a voice chimes in. You rush to the closet and grab your phone from the shelf. There’s a huge, shit-eating grin on Shoko’s face. Somehow she’s responsible for this. You don’t know how yet, nor do you have proof, but you know it. 

“Okay, thank you, love you, bye!” Before you can hang up, Shoko blurts something. 

“Tell him I said hi,” she begins, “–andnottogetahardonwhenheseesyou!”

You hang up the call and roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself because of her idiocy. When you enter the corridor, you hear a faint sound of hushed voices from downstairs. It’s only when you round the bannister at the top, when those voices become discernible and louder. 

You stop at the top, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like all the air in your lungs have expelled. Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of what you’re wearing, and the fabric, and the way it clings to your body. Neither he, nor you, look away–you should, you want to, but you don’t. 

And in the time the two of you gaze upon the other, time stops for a modicum of a second. In this second, you and him are the last two souls in the world. At least, that’s how it feels anyway before he breaks eye contact. 

You shift your gaze shortly after, and put on a trained smile. Those eyes of his were always so intense. You guess you forgot over the years how easy it was to lose yourself in the crystalline pools of them. Gathering your wits, you resume your movements and saunter down the imperial staircase. 

“Hey, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Sort of lost track of time, but I think the girls are all packed,” you say, your voice coming to a decrescendo upon noticing the way his eyes trail over your frame. They’re unreadable, though. Indifferent, and honestly, you’re not sure how to feel. So, you begin fidgeting uncomfortably with the rings around your finger. 

Then, he smiles. It’s eerie and fake. “Not a problem, I haven’t been here too long. But, uh,” he begins ambling around the place, touching random objects around the living room, “Didn’t know you had plans. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with your colleagues?” 

You furrow your brows, confused with his sudden interests in your plans. It wasn’t really like him to prod. “No, actually,” you rock back-and-forth on the balls of your heels, “i’m…i’m going on a date,” you finish with a pursed smile. He only nods his head in response, still walking around the place touching stuff, messing with the picture frames on the mantle. They’re all crooked now. 

“How come this is the only picture you have up of me,” he asks suddenly. You know, that he knows, the answer to that. And he knows, that you know, you’ll indulge in his games anyway. 

“The girls wanted them in their rooms. Why do you ask? You want me to go grab them and put ‘em all up around the house?” Again, he doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a final once over before heading back to the foyer to ask if the girls are all set to go. 

“Yeah, but I can’t find my tablet, dad. Can I go look for it?” Haruki speaks up. “I thought I packed it.”

Satoru looks at the time on his watch, pinches the crease in between his brows. “Sure, kiddo. Can we make it quick, please?” He throws his hand in the air for emphasis, then points to his watch. Haruki nods, then runs up the stairs. 

“Actually, you go on up too and help your sister. You guys are holding up dad,” you turn to Hana and gesture for her to head up with your head. She rolls her eyes, yelling up the stairs for her younger sister to ‘freaking hurry up’. 

You and Satoru both turn to each other with wide eyes, laughing at the nerve of those children. 

“They get that attitude from you, you know,” you point to him, driving your index finger into his bicep. 

“You sure? Their mom’s got a pretty bad mouth on her, too. Or, have you forgotten?” He teases, bending his knees slightly to level his eyes with yours, intruding into your space. The smirk he dons is cheeky, too friendly–too inviting. You want to smack it off of him. 

“Oh, shut u–” the sound of your phone chiming interrupts your banter. It’s a message from Kazuki, and you open it while Satoru stands over you. Probably close enough to read the message on his own if he wanted. 

Kazuki: Hey, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can go through with tonight. 

When you read the message, your heart drops into your stomach. There goes the other shoe, you think, fully embracing your pessimism. Who were you kidding, really? To think that tonight you’d go out and have a good time. Do something for yourself. It was stupidity. 

Chat bubbles pop up on the screen. He has more to say. 

He has more to say, and you’re fighting the urge to cry–to not shake out of sheer frustration while you’re still standing in front of Satoru. Because nothing would be worse than him seeing you can’t even land a date. 

Kazuki: I recently just went through a divorce, and I know that I should have informed you about this before continuing our conversations…Especially since you’ve been so transparent with me about your own divorce and strife.

Kazuki: But if I’m being completely honest, I was scared. I genuinely wanted to see this through, at first. I wanted to forget about my ex-wife for just one night. But I realized I’ve been asking the impossible of myself…I’m still in love with her, and it’s because I’m in love with her that I won’t allow myself to lead you on any further. 

Kazuki: I think we would’ve had a good time tonight. It's unfortunate we had to meet under such circumstances because you’re a really lovely woman, and I’m sorry an asshole is standing you up right now. 

Kazuki: Take care. I know there’s a guy out there just waiting for his shot. 

Satoru takes notice of the way your face drops as you read over the messages. Part of him wants to overstep his boundaries and take a peek at the screen. But he doesn’t. He gives you your space and takes a seat on the couch, waits for you to say something first. 

In the meantime, he studies your face. Watches intently as your eyes become glossy the more you scan the messages, watches as your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hold back from crying. He thinks he knows what just happened. 

Taking a deep breath, you lock your phone and put on another trained smile, “Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.” Satoru dislikes when you do that. When you put on a fake smile and overcompensate to make others around you feel better, even when it’s so very obvious you aren’t. He wishes that sometimes you would just be selfish–act out. 

And then you continue the façade. It makes his skin itch. 

“I was too tired anyway, guess I can just catch up o–”

“Will you stop,” he spits, rising from his seat on the couch to stand. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he doesn’t regret it. You look at him like he’s got two heads as he walks over to the mantle and leans against it. His back is turned towards you, and the palms of his hands hold the crest of it. He uses it as leverage to rock on the heels of his feet. You can tell there’s something he wants to say because of the way his jaw ticks. 

Satoru is never one to bite his tongue, so you’re not exactly sure why he’s choosing to be so restrained. If he wasn’t going to spit it out, you were going to poke. “What’s your problem?” 

He chuckles at this, rubs his chin then pushes off the mantle to stand in front of you, gets all in your space again. The movement almost sends you back but you hold your ground, tilt your chin up at him and repeat the question. Slowly, this time with more venom. 

“My problem? What’s your problem?” He breathes through his nose, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between your own. “Why do you always pretend like you’re not lonely? It’s okay if you were looking forward to having fun tonight. It’s okay to be upset and be mad at the asshole who stood you up!”

With every verbal prod at you, the gap between you decreases. His feet inch closer and closer to your own and force you to retreat farther until your back hits the wall. The coldness of it causes your breath to hitch, and you try to stay calm as Satoru encroaches more into your personal space. Being on the receiving end of his passion was always suffocating, you feel exposed under the intensity of his gaze–even more so as he continues to tear into you. 

“Why do you even care?!” you cut him off, eyes wide and veins pumping full of adrenaline. “It’s not your place to be so invested in my life anymore! We’re not together, you don’t have to get so hot and bothered about things going shitty for me. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.” 

By the time you finish, you’re a heaving, shaking mess. He takes this as a sign to withdraw from your space, and goes to sit back down on the couch. When you finally settle your nerves, you join him, leaving a foot of space in between you. There’s an awkward silence, one that wouldn’t have even happened if he just respected your boundaries in the first place. Now he feels like the asshole instead of the actual asshole who dumped you. Taking a hesitant breath, he decides to speak up. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…It wasn’t my intention to come off so strong like that,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t always have to pretend to be fine. It’s not fair, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.” His eyes wander over to you reluctantly, like he’s scared that if he looks too long you’ll disengage from the conversation. 

“It’s okay,” your voice is small, just above a whisper. You want to face him, but you know that if you do, you'll break into a million pieces. So you keep your gaze downward, busy yourself with the stray pieces of thread on the bottom of your dress. “You’re right, you know. I think I just…I think I just tell myself to expect disappointment so that when something bad happens, I’ll know it’s not because I got my hopes up.” 

Satoru turns to you, and you can see him frown through your peripheral. Still, you don’t face him because you’re not done talking. But you thank him silently for listening without interrupting. 

“Even though you’re right, I don’t appreciate the way you came on so strongly. We’re not married anymore, we’re not a couple–we’re co-parents. So if there’s something I want you to know about that’s outside of the scope of our kids, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, leave it alone.”

Satoru’s face softens. For once you’re being selfish, putting your foot down. This is the side of you he likes. “Okay. I respect that,” he says, “But can I ask you something?” The smile on his face is mirthful, like he’s got something else up his sleeves this evening. Skeptical, you finally face him with a raised brow. 

“What?”

“Let me take you to dinner.” 

You laugh in his face, even go as far as smacking his arm because you want him to know you found the joke really funny. He doesn’t budge, and that’s when you realize he’s being serious. 

“Wait, what?” 

“Let’s go to dinner,” he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest. You tilt your head in disbelief. You’re just waiting for someone to tell you you’re on that old reality show punk’d. 

“Funny, I just poured my heart out to you and now you’re making fun of me,” you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. 

“I’m being serious,” he reassures, “you’re already dressed up. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” His eyes are twinkling with hope, and once again, you find yourself falling victim to their persuasiveness. 

Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating. 

Giving in, you ask, “So what are you gonna do? Drive all the way home to get dressed?” 

The question is genuine, but the bastard just grins. “I’m a little hurt,” he throws a hand over his heart, “don’t you know me by now? I’m a businessman. I keep pressed blazers and slacks on me at all times.”

He swings his keys around his index finger, hoping that the promise of a spare change of clothes being in his car is enough to convince you to say yes. 

“I don’t know…” you trail. 

“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Somehow he was able to persuade you into going out. After he changed into his spare clothes, you ended up telling your girls that there was gonna be a change of plans, and that they’d go home with their dad tomorrow. 

Of course, before leaving, you made sure to leave some money on the table for pizza, and you also made sure to drill into their heads not to open the door for anyone except the delivery guy. You knew they knew the drill already, but it didn’t feel right to leave without saying it anyway. 

“Be good, listen to your sister, she’s in charge,” you pinch Haruki’s cheek. Hana smirks, nodding her head in agreement with you. 

“I will mom, I know,” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“And you,” your finger wags at Hana, her smirk drops. “Don’t provoke your sister, be nice. Act like you love each other, please.” 

“Fine, whatever. I guess,” she grabs the knob to the door, ready to kick the both of you out already. “So does this mean the two of you are back together, or?” 

Satoru and you turn to each other before answering in unison, “No.” 

“Okay, cool. Well, have fun,” she practically closes the door on the two of you, locking it after. Satoru is just as dumbfounded as you are, but then you break into a fit of laughter. 

“Those kids, man.”

“Your kids!” you correct, pushing him playfully as the both of you walk down the pebbled pathway. He finds his equilibrium in time to unlock the car and open your side of the door. You pause before ducking inside.

“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you jest, “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“How could it be when I’m alive?” He says matter-of-factly, closing your side of the door. He taps the top of the car before sliding across the hood to the other side. Nice to see some things never changed. 

When he gets inside and turns on the car, he puts his hand on the back of your seat to back out. The proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to physically refrain from letting your eyes linger on his jaw, and his arms, and the face he makes when he’s trying to concentrate. 

You try to dispel these less-than-friendly thoughts by looking somewhere, anywhere else but him. But you can’t, and it’s irritating. 

This is the second time tonight you’ve been this close, and it’s only this time that you realize something about him is…different. Earlier, he didn’t really smell like anything, but you quickly notice his smell has changed. 

There’s a sort of piney scent coming from him. It’s not strong or obnoxious enough to blind your nostrils, but it’s enough for you to just barely pick up on it. You almost think it was premeditated, that he took the liberty of spritzing some on before walking you to the car. Before you separated, he’d made it a habit to wear variations of woody scents for you. If you can recall correctly, a passing comment you made about the cologne he was wearing that day is what sparked the habit. 

Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental? 

“You smell nice,” you blurt, filling in the silence. 

Satoru glances at you, “Thank you.” You hate that from the corner of your eye, you can see his stupid little smirk growing bigger by the minute. He already had a big ego, it didn’t need to be stroked any more. 

“Don’t let it go to your head, though. You usually smell pretty rank.”

“Ohhh, is that so? Guess I gotta start wearing this more often then, huh?”

“Sure, do what you want,” you say, trying to remain indifferent even though you’re failing terribly to hide your smile. When the car approaches a red light, you finally decide to ask the big question. “So where are you taking me?” 

“You’ll see,” he glances over, “Just know I’m good friends with the owner, so last minute reservations weren't a problem.” 

The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the low hum of the music playing on the radio. When you arrive at the location, Satoru makes sure to walk all the way around to your side of the door again and open it. Immediately after, the two of you are greeted by a young male. He’s wearing a white button down, black slacks, and a black vest with a red tie. Judging by his appearance, you assume he’s a valet driver. 

Satoru drops his keys in the driver’s hands, and escorts you towards the entrance. The boy bows and goes to park the car. Looking around, you start to wonder where exactly this place is supposed to be. The area is dark and secluded, and from where you stand outside, it doesn’t sound like there’s supposed to be a restaurant here. You don’t hear any voices, you don’t even see any security or other passerbyers. 

Still, you follow behind him like a duckling, only coming to a halt when he leads you to a door taller than the both of you. He gestures for you to back up, then raises his knuckles to blow a strong, single knock. You’re taken by surprise when a set of angry eyes appear behind a slot in the door. 

The pair of eyes first scan over you, then Satoru. A gruff voice is second to accompany them, “Where can I get a good drink?” 

“I heard the bar down the street is nice,” Satoru answers. The hatch to the door closes, then swings open the door, and the man behind it moves aside to welcome you in.

“Follow me, please.” Once he closes the door, he begins guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. After making what seems like your hundredth turn, you eventually reach a staircase. The man gestures for you to go on ahead, and you think this is him implying where the three of you will depart.

“Thank you,” you say softly, disappearing down the stairs. Satoru isn’t too far behind, keeping a pace between you. As you near the end of the long, narrow hallway, a stream of white light brightens up your whole path. It leads you down to another door like a beacon of light, and when you reach it, you can hear voices, live music, and dishes clanking on the other side. It’s bustling with life. A huge, joyous smile plasters across your face. It’s almost child-like in appearance, like you haven’t seen something this cool in a long time. 

Satoru stands beside you and winks. “What d’ya think? Any idea yet where we are?” 

“I think this is fucking cool, and hm,” you take a second to mull it over, “are we at a speakeasy?” 

“Smart girl. Now come on.” Stepping back, you allow him to pull open the door, and when he does, there isn’t a word to describe the atmosphere of the place you step into. All you can do is stand there in astonishment. Before long, a man walks up to you. 

“Welcome, what is the name you reserved under?” 

“Gojo.”

Nodding, the host instructs you to follow after him. He leads you to a private seating area, somewhere far in the back that’s secluded from the other patrons. The space is much bigger, and much more extravagant. You know you’re only sitting way back here because Satoru is who he is. And in all the years you’ve known him, his connections were just another party trick in his arsenal. 

The hostess seats you, then Satoru, and tells you that a waiter will be with you shortly. 

“This is nice, really nice, but is it–”

“Legal?” he finishes your sentence, “don’t worry. It’s a modern speakeasy-style restaurant. There’s nothing illegal going on here, promise.” 

While you wait for your designated waiter, your focus shifts from the man in front of you to the man singing on the stage. Up until now, his voice was white noise in the background, but then he started singing a tune scarily reminiscent of your past–and your breath catches in your throat. 

If I ever leave you, baby

You can say I told you so

And if I ever hurt you

You know, I hurt myself…

Turning your gaze back to Satoru, you squint your eyes mirthfully in disbelief. You wonder if this is just a funny coincidence, if this is the universe playing her tricks, but you know deep down, that coincidences and Gojo Satoru don’t belong in the same sentence. 

You open your mouth to speak, but quickly close it when you see the waiter approaching from the corner of your eye. He greets the both of you with a polite smile, then sets down two glasses of water. 

“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for the night,” he says, placing a menu in front of you, “Can I get you fine folks started off with a bottle of wine?” 

Satoru nods, tells him to bring the best bottle of red they have and then gestures for him to come closer so that he can whisper something in his ear. All the while, you sit back in your seat observing, clicking your nails on the table until the server pulls back and bows. 

When he departs, you immediately lean in over the table, and ask, “Just how much time did you have to plan all of this?” 

Satoru feigns aloofness, taking a sip of his water, “What do you mean?” 

You roll your eyes, gesturing at the stage with your eyes. Then, as if suddenly coming to a realization, he goes, “Oh, that? Yeah, I had nothing to do with that. But isn’t it funny they’re playing our old song?” 

Now he’s smirking, with his elbow leaning back on the chair, and a gaze so piercing, you’re certain you’ll crumble into nothing unless you look away. So you do, avert your gaze back to the stage and sway calmly. 

Is that any way for a man to carry on

Do you think I want my loved one gone

Said I love you

More than you’ll ever know

More than you’ll ever know

“So funny,” you counter. 

Eventually, the server comes back with a bottle. “1982 Chateau Latife Rothschild,” he holds it out to present, “Is this alright?” 

Despite the years spent with Satoru, and the many elitist events you often attended with him, your knowledge on wine had never surpassed anything but surface level. You knew the difference between good wine and cheap wine was the taste, but your taste buds had grown accustomed to store-bought, so if anything, store-bought tasted like heaven to you. Anyway, though, you nod your head and urge him to pour a glass. 

“Thank you,” you smile, before gently swirling the glass and bringing it up to your nose to smell (something you only know to do after being the odd man out at so many company banquets). Satoru waits for you to sip your glass before he sips his. The way you melt into your seat is a silent assurance that you’re pleased. 

“This is great, you’re amazing,” you tell the server, who seems pleased by your compliment. 

“Glad to be of service, miss. Are you ready to order?” 

Dinner goes by smoothly. In fact, it goes by so smoothly, you and Satoru finish the entire bottle of wine. Now you sit at the table, bellies full, faces flushed and sore from laughing, and now you find yourself telling him about the grocery store incident. If you had half a mind (a sober one), you’d shut up right this second to save yourself from the embarrassment. But you don’t. And Satoru’s very persuasive when you’re tipsy. 

“Keep going,” he leans in, hand nestled under his chin. He’s completely invested in the story. Actually, as soon as he heard the words ‘store’ and ‘cute guy’, he just had to know more. And you begging him to change the subject didn’t help, not when the sadist in him loved to see you so embarrassed. 

“Fine,” you hiccup, “It was so - so bad, Toru.” He doesn’t miss the way you slip and call him by the nickname you’d always reserved for him. It makes his heart race, and god, does he miss the way it sounds spilling from your lips. But he ignores the feeling, and refocuses on your story instead. Which, by the way, was proving to be a task in itself because his eyes couldn’t stop drifting back down to your lips. So soft, so–

“And then she said ‘we don’t believe in rings,’” you whisper, fist coming down on the table. The sound it makes nearly sobers you up, and you realize just how loud you’re being despite your table being secluded from others. Giggling like a kid, you continue, “I mean, how fucking insane is that?!” 

“Something as bizarre as that could only ever happen to you,” he replies, laughing along with you, “those people were crazy.” 

“The craziest,” you agree, throwing your head back in another fit of laughter. Gradually, the two of you begin to settle down, and once again, you find your attention being drawn back to the man on the stage. Only this time, he’s making an announcement.

“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Tonight I’ve got a special request,” he says, looking out into the audience. Looking at you. “This one’s for a very special lady who, from what I’ve been told, is a great mother that needs to start doing things for herself.” 

The singer steps out of the spotlight and hands the note to a server. Your server. Then he begins to sing, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It was your wedding song. 

[...] I don’t even know how to love you

Just the way you want me to

But I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

Yes, I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

“Now this one? This one was me,” Satoru leans forward, and you swiftly turn your head to face him. He smiles as he watches your face go through ten different emotions before ultimately softening. It warms your heart to see how incredibly planned this evening was, despite the amount of time he was given to work with. Even so, it kind of scares you–because then that meant this was a grand gesture–that this was his way of saying something. And you weren’t too sure if you wanted to hear it. Your gaze drops to your lap, and Satoru frowns. 

To fall in love 

To fall in love

To fall in love with you…

“Look at me,” he says softly, but you don’t. “Hey, look at me.” He reaches over the table to take your chin in between his fingers. The touch alone feels electric. Sends liquid hot lightning down the column of your spine. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and like always, it’s suffocating. They’re so wide with hope, and so, so gentle in the way they hold you. The longer you gaze upon them, the more you convince yourself it’ll be okay if you surrender to them. 

“It’s been years since we’ve divorced,” his voice is shaky, almost strained, like he’s actively thinking how to choose his words carefully, “and when we sat down that night, I thought it was what I wanted, too, you know? And for a while, it was,” he reaches a hand across the table to rest atop your own, “but you gotta know…you gotta know–you’re it for me. There’s no one else on this Earth that I want to start over with. You’ve always been the beginning and end of my story, and I’ll be damned if I let another man start one with you.”

Your heart is beating faster than you can even process what he’s saying. The only thing you’re focused on is not passing out in the middle of this damn restaurant. But then he’s squeezing your hand, and your focus is drawn back to those piercing, pale blues that even put crystals to shame. 

“So what do you say?” he says, so softly, so tender. “Can we try again?”

Waiting for your reply, he squeezes your hand again. It’s like your soul is wandering the line between death and the living, and his touch is the tether that brings you back. In the background, the tune of the song sung at your wedding gives you a push of courage. 

I don’t even know how to kiss your lips (kiss your lips)

At a moment like this

But I’m going to learn how to do 

All the things you want me to

Yes, I’m ready

(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready

To fall in love

To fall in love

To fall in love right now

“Yes.”

The walk back to the car is hurried. Aided by both, years and years of built up tension, and the liquid courage currently bubbling in your systems. 

The race back to his apartment is even faster. You thank the gods silently that it’s within close proximity to where you just were. 

Once you get there, make your way past the doorman and concierge (who both give the two of you a knowing look), go up the elevator, and finally get into his loft–it’s over. Years of restraint, years of pretending, wanting–yearning, come crashing down. 

There’s barely any time to close the door before he’s pushing you against it. His lips trail down the column of your neck, then come up to kiss your jaw, until eventually, they find your lips. And when they do, it’s instantaneous–that familiar feeling, the feeling that feels almost like falling. 

Once again, for what felt like centuries, you feel again the rush of helplessness. The push and pull of the tide. It brings you down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean floor, and it’s unmerciful. 

Kissing Satoru is like being shocked with ten thousand volts of energy. Like all this time you’ve spent not kissing him, has been costing you your life, and he’s the only one who can deliver you salvation. It’s all teeth and tongue for a minute. Messy, and sticky, and nasty. A true testament to the desperation brewing in the pits of both your stomachs. 

The sensation of it all has your knees going slack, and that’s when he says–

“Jump.” 

Obeying, you do just that. Jump right into his arms, and wrap your legs around his torso like you’ve done so many times before. The way you feel now is the way you used to feel before then, too. Like you were made to fit like this. To be held in his arms like you were molded from the same clay. 

Carefully, he adjusts his grip on your body. Keeps his palms planted on the bottoms of your ass, and begins the trek to his room. He struggles a bit getting there because you haven’t stopped kissing since entering the apartment, but he figures it out after a stumble or two (which resulted in a bitten lip and you apologizing profusely through giggles). 

“The turbulence up here is crazy, don’t blame me, blame the pilot,” you jest, kissing down his neck to make up for it. 

“I’ll make sure to let him know,” he jokes back. As soon as he gets to the bed, he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You try to bring him down to your height but he stops you, wags his finger in your face playfully before using it to push you back into the bed. His fingers start to play with the fabric of your dress, and then his face takes on an indifferent expression. The same one from earlier that night when he first saw you walking down the stairs. 

“Can’t believe you were gonna wear this for him…” he trails, lifting the fabric up slowly, eyeing you while doing so, “as if this dress doesn’t mean something.” 

Of course, when Shoko chose it, its significance did make you falter–but in your defense, not once did you ever anticipate for him to see you in it. And you especially didn’t expect for him to remember it, the last time you wore it was almost a decade ago. 

“I didn’t…” you start, a smile creeping on your lips, “think you remembered?”

“‘Course I did, how could I not?” He says more sharply than intended, taking offense. He takes offense because he spent the better half of the night showing you he remembered. The little things and everything else in between. Couldn’t you see that?

“It was our 4th anniversary. Bought you this dress and fucked you in it that same night. Funny how the second time I’m seeing you in this dress, the circumstances are the same except only this time we’re divorced,” he says, crawling over your body. “Guess I gotta show you just how much I remember.” 

With that, he slips a hand under your dress, pulls your panties to the side and runs a finger down your slit. Oh-so-willingly, do you spread your legs for him. It’s almost subconscious, the way your body responds to him. And he revels in it. Lets his fingers work you, feel you, bring you to ecstasy. Then he heightens your pleasure tenfold when he kisses his way down your body, and takes a seat before you on his knees. 

Unceremoniously, he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. Takes his time slipping your panties down the length of your legs, then kisses the insides of your thighs, before finally stopping at your mound. 

Slowly, he lowers himself to your cunt, kisses your clit softly. Once, twice, three times. The pace in which he’s moving is killing you, to say the least. But you know he’s savoring the moment, making up for all the years he spent not kneeling like this between your legs. So you let him; let him caress you all over before he comes seeking the honey-sweet salvation dripping from your core. 

The second his tongue makes contact with your heat, you find yourself clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “Fuck, Toruuuu,” you drawl, back arching off the bed. Pleased with his abilities, he smiles smugly, using this as an opportunity to push himself even deeper. Up and down, he licks at your slit, uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue to prod at that spongy spot he knows you love. 

“Tastes,” a harsh suck, “so good,” another, “better than I remember.” 

You know he’s talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. You’re so caught up in your own high, you don’t even take notice of the obscene sloshing sounds coming from your pussy, or the moans you’re making. All you can do is lay there and take it as he takes, and takes, and takes from you. 

Soon, you find your orgasm cutting through you like a knife, and you come with a strangled cry that has you biting back tears. Satoru talks you through the whole thing. He lays his head down on your thigh and continues working you with his fingers until you start to shake from the overstimulation. 

For a few, you lay and stare at the ceiling. You think you can see the Milky Way–and all the constellations that make it up. It feels like your soul is floating beyond your physical body, and you don’t come back down to Earth until a sharp, stinging sensation brings you back. Did he just?

“Did you just bite me?” you lift your head, peering down to see the evidence. In all its glory, there it was; a red ring smack-dab in the inside of your thigh with teeth imprints. Looking at Satoru, he grins. 

“Had to get you back from earlier,” he says, sitting back on his knees. You attempt to kick him with your foot, but he grabs hold of it. Pretending to be wounded, he gasps, “Is this how you treat the man who just gave you a soul-shattering orgasm?” 

You roll your eyes, but to your dismay, it only encourages him to continue. 

“Fuck, Toru,” he mimics, “oh my god, Toru. You fuck me so goo–”

“Alright, enough!” you manage to kick him this time, laughing as you bring up your hands to cover your face. “Keep carrying on like that and I won’t let you fuck me…” You’re serious in your bite, but he’s smirking. Like he knows you’re full of bullshit. 

“Yeah right. You and I both know I make you feel too good.” 

Feeling bested, you scoff, though, there’s no real weight behind it. While he begins to remove his shirt, you sit up and replace his hands. He relinquishes control and allows you to unbutton it until the item falls haphazardly to the floor. 

He’s so beautiful, you think. Still so chiseled, so perfect after all these years since you’ve last seen him like this. At his most vulnerable. The only difference now is that there are more freckles littered across his skin. Back then, he’d say they were signs of aging, and he’d hate them. 

But he’s older now. More mature. So much so that he even winks at you when you trace your fingertips over them.

“They suit you,” you whisper. 

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “mhm.” 

Continuing your ministrations, you begin removing his belt. He holds your gaze the entire time it takes for you to unzip his pants and pull them down–and he doesn’t once shy away when you discover the wet spot on the front of his briefs. Slowly, delicately, you remove the soiled item and let it fall down to the floor with the rest of his clothes. 

Still looking at him, you take hold of his length and fist him once, twice, experimentally. A dribble of pre oozes from his slit and you bring it to your mouth. All the air in his lungs expel into the air when you lick it off with your tongue, and god, he thinks he could come from that alone. 

God, he’s missed you. Missed your touch, your lips–the way you hold him with your eyes like he’s something worth being gentle with. Nothing could ever compare to you, not even his own hand. 

As soon as you’re about to take him in your mouth, he stops you. Pushes you back down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. “No more playing, I’m tired of playing,” he breathes, lowering himself down until half of his weight is on top of you. 

Guiding his cock to your entrance, he pushes past your folds with little resistance. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him in has his arms wobbling like jelly, but he musters enough strength somehow to stay up. You, on the other hand, are close to tears. 

The more he eases himself in, the more you feel like you’re being stretched open (despite him previously prepping you). If you were being truthful, this wasn’t a complete shock to you. You’ve known that he’s always been big, but something about tonight feels different. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve had something more than just your own fingers. 

Even so, you try your best to ignore the burn of the stretch. You throw your arms around his neck and invite him deeper into you, hooking your legs around him so tightly that it renders his limbs useless. For a minute, all you can feel is the weight of him inside of you, and his chest against yours as they rise and fall asynchronously. 

“Toru,” your voice is just barely above a whisper, but enough to make the hairs on the nape of his neck stand. “Make love to me.” 

Heeding your request, he begins moving. Painfully slow, he unsheathes himself from you until only the head of his cock is inside, then pushes himself all the way back in with force. Again, and again, he repeats this motion. Pulls out, pushes in. Pulls out, pushes in, until he decides to increase his pace and set a steady rhythm. 

Every thrust into you is meticulously calculated. Sharp, and forceful, and not once does he disrupt the rhythm. He listens carefully to the sounds you make. Even listens to the way your breath hitches when he hits a spot right. Everything he’s doing is perfect–and it’s to no surprise. Deep down, you know that Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand. He’d know it if you were all old and wrinkly. He’d know it if his soul reincarnated. Hell, he’d know it blind. 

“Missed this,” he grunts, burying his head into the interstice of your neck, “missed you,” a kiss to your neck, “missed us.” 

The veracity of his words render you speechless. He’s already professed his feelings for you tonight, but it feels even more real now that you’re beneath him. To be loved by Gojo Satoru was a feeling many couldn’t say they had the consolation of knowing. Only a few in his circle could hold that position–but only one person in this world could truly ever know his love to its fullest extent. You. 

Satoru continues his mindless rambling, “I love you,” a thrust, “it’s always been you,” another, “was always going to be you.” Leaning back on his heels, he pushes your dress all the way up to reveal your breasts. Now it’s him who sits back and admires this time. As if he were reacquainting himself, he traces the planes and pastures of your chest with an eager hand. He runs it up and over each mound, squeezing and kneading the flesh experimentally. 

Then, he dips down and kisses the space between them. Sucks and licks until the skin bruises, and he has evidence to prove tonight actually happened. Eventually, he withdraws from your chest and returns his focus on easing his cock in and out of your cunt. 

“So beautiful,” he says, but it’s more to himself than anything. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, he doesn’t even think you can hear him. “Want you to cum on my cock, know you can do it, baby. Know you can,” he grunts, taking your hand and intertwining it with his own. Letting his head fall into your neck, he begins to quicken his pace. Fucks into you with everything he’s got and willing to give. 

“Toru,” you finally manage to say, “‘m so close, keep going. Do it - do it inside.” 

Do it inside. Do it inside. Do it inside. The thought is tempting, too tempting. It makes his dick twitch inside of you, and he swears if you say it again, he’ll actually do it. But he knows better than to listen to anything you say out of delirium. 

“Trust me, sweet girl,” he cradles your face, to which you lean into, “I want to - I want to so fucking badly. But we both know you’d regret it later.” 

Whining, your lips form into a pout, and the sight is so cute, he can’t help but to kiss it off of you. Compared to your kiss earlier, this one is much sweeter. Slower. More relaxed. He kisses you with the intent of making you dizzier than you already are, and it’s scary. Even so, you don’t pull away. You allow him to drink you up. Like your lips are the only source of water around, and he’s been quenched for days. 

Finally, with a few more thrusts, you reach your climax. The pressure building in the pit of your belly pops like a balloon, and everything goes white. “Toru!” you shriek, arching off the bed and trembling in his grasp. 

Using your arch as leverage, he keeps his hands underneath your back and continues to ram into you without abandon. You’re a babbling, wet mess at this point, and your cunt squeezing around him only encourages him more. 

“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna - ‘m gonna,” he curses, balls beginning to tighten. Quickly, he unsheathes himself and fists himself the rest of the way. With an impassioned moan, he climaxes–spurting thick, white, ropes of seed all over your abdomen. Then, falls onto your limp body with a grunt, chest heaving rapidly, and slick with perspiration. 

By this time, you’ve settled down enough to form a proper sentence. “That was…”

Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.” 

Still spent, he continues to lay atop you. And you, having nowhere else to go, let him. The two of you lay comfortably in silence like this for a long time. Just you tracing shapes into his back, and him purring into your neck. Both of you know you should be getting up, but neither of you make an effort to do so. In this moment, time is transcendent. There is no rush to move when time stands still for you. 

Soon, that silence is broken. 

“I love you,” you say, and there’s no elaboration. Not even a recant. In fact, you say it so nonchalantly, he’s not even sure it was real. You say it like you’ve never been more certain in your life, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do. 

“Really?” he queries, almost pathetically like the mere idea of you loving him is something unattainable. You look at him like he’s got two heads. 

“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you,” you admit, pausing your ministrations on his back, “I just had to relearn how to love you.” He smiles at this, hums into your neck to keep from crying. 

“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he mumbles into your neck, “so where do we go from here?”

“From here we take it slow. We’ll learn together what it means to be individuals, and then from there we’ll see where it goes,” you say matter-of-factly, “no more repeating past mistakes.”

“Agreed,” he nods, “what will we tell the girls?”

That’s when your eyes widen and you sit up, forcefully pushing Satoru off of you. 

“What did I say, what’s wrong?” he queries, sitting up on the bed. He watches you rummage around the room maniacally, head on a swivel as you run out of the room and return with a purse. You pull your phone out to see a slew of missed calls and messages. 

“We forgot to call the girls!” You yell, showing him your phone screen of missed calls. Gojo jumps up to join you, one leg already sliding into his pants. 

“Shit!” 

Noticing the state of your appearance, you pinch the skin between your brows. “Satoru, I can’t wear this! You got cum all over it,” you groan, pointing to all the splotches of white. He tells you to wait a second before disappearing into his closet, then he comes back with a fist of clothes and throws it at you. 

“I can’t wear this either, they’ll wonder why I’m wearing your clothes!” 

Satoru runs to you and pull the dress off of your body, “We’ll wash it!” he screams, disappearing again out of the room, and to where you imagine, the laundry room. When he returns, he’s out of breath and panting. It’s only then do you realize how insane he looks with half his shirt buttoned, and his pants twisted around his hips. A giggle escapes your lips.

“What are you laughing at? Chop chop,” he claps, ushering you into his bathroom. 

Yeah, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this idiot.

comments + reblogs very appreciated !!!

© arachine 2023

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Pitfighter! Vi X Reader: You are the only exception

Warnings: smut, no use of y/n, oral (f receiving),fingering , Vi being a meanie (just a little), fluff, not proofread.

Word count: 2,4K

A/n: Might do a pt 2 (if y'all want it 🤷‍♀️)

You never expected that talking to Vi that one night would have made you end up here. 

Vi’s face is buried between your legs, pulling a sigh from your lips. Your hands grip at the cardboard beneath you body, desperately trying to stop yourself from bucking into her face. You can feel the strong muscles of her shoulders clench as she doubles down on her movements, making a moan rip from your mouth. Vi smirks against your cunt, one hand caressing your thigh as the other continues to put pressure on your hips. 

Loris had told you Vi’s fight tonight had been harder than usual and that he was worried she’d do something stupid. 

“Why don’t you go check on her then?”

“I tried. She told me to fuck off.”

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“She’ll listen if you go. She’s got a soft spot for you.”

That was true. You didn’t know why but Vi seemed to take your advice quite seriously. You’d met her a couple of weeks ago. You were dancing at one of the bars when she stumbled in, completely shitfaced. She’d bumped into you, causing you to spill your drink all over yourself. Most people would have taken one look at Vi and let it go. But not you.

 Oh no, not you. 

You marched right up to her, tapping her on her leather clad shoulder. She turned to face you, eyes falling on your angered expression. 

“You owe me a drink.”

Vi sighed, hand moving to rub at her eyes. She just wanted a quiet night out.

“Do I know you?”

The annoyance was clear in her tone but you didn’t back down. 

“No you don’t. But that didn’t stop you from crashing into me like some drunken sailor.”

Vi couldn’t help but smirk. You were feisty for your size. People normally went the other way when they saw her coming but not you. You walked your cute butt right in her direction. She couldn’t help but be amused. Vi turned to the bartender ordering a glass of her favorite beer, before turning to face you again.

“What you having princess?”

From that night on you became a constant in Vi’s life. You went to all her fights, intensely shouting the whole time as she ploughed through her opponents. When she won you would take her out for a drink, oftentimes dragging her to the dance floor with you. She didn’t really care for dancing but she made the sacrifice for you. When she lost you were the one you would drag her back to her bed, ignoring her mumbles and aggravated words. She’d tell you to fuck off and you tell her to go fuck herself right back. Not many people could handle Vi the way you did and even if she didn’t say it she was grateful for you. 

You had told Lois you’d check on the pink haired girl. He’d given you a grateful look and warned you that she would probably be wound up because of her last fight. He had been right. The second you stepped into her room you could feel the tension in the air. The place was filled with the sound of Vi hitting her punching bag with all her might. You walked in, taking a glance at the broken mirror before moving to sit down on her makeshift bed. You picked at your nails as you waited for Vi to finish ragging. 

“I already told Loris to fuck off.”

“Well I'm not Loris am i?”

You gave Vi a girn which she didn’t return. She gave the bag one last good punch before letting out a defeated sigh.

“Come here.”

“Princess i’m really not-”

“Violet come here.”

Vi raised her head to look up at you. Your tone was commanding but she knew you meant nothing by it. You just wanted her to shut up and let you help her out. She sighed, dragging her feet on the floor as she walked over to you. You moved so that she could sit next to you. 

“You wanna tell me what’s up or…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

You frowned slightly at her dismissive tone but you knew to respect her wishes. There was a lot about Vi you didn’t know about. You hadn’t known her for a long time but even so you’d grown attached to her fairly quickly. That didn't mean she told you everything but something about the way she behaved told you she’d been hurt a lot during her life. You wanted to be there for her. A shoulder to lean on when things got hard. Vi turned to face you, her eyes meeting yours. She placed a hand on your cheek.

“Distract me princess?”

“Sure Vi.”

Vi moved to sit down on the floor in front of you. You knew exactly what she wanted. You widen your legs, allowing her to slot her body against you. Your hands went to her hair, caressing her locks. Vi sighed as your hands massaged her scalp. She didn’t know how you did it but this always managed to remove all the tension in her body. It was such a simple act but it helped wonders. Your hands began to become stained with black as you continued your caress. It’s not like you minded though. You would just wash the grime off when you finished up. Vi sighed, her head moving to rest on your thigh. Your eyes fidgeted to the tattoo on the back of her neck. You always wondered if it had hurt a lot. You thought of asking Vi but something caught your attention. Vi’s lips were close to your thigh. She wasn’t doing anything, but the thought of her lips on your skin made you shiver. The truth was that you had a thing for Vi. The night you’d met you had expected to hate her but you’d been surprised. You had a crush on Vi and no intention of telling her.

Until now that is.

Vi felt your muscles become rigid for a moment. She could feel your fingers tense against her hair, causing her to raise her head. She turned to look at you. You stared down at her, your heart beating faster at the sight of her between your legs. Vi put a hand on your leg which didn’t help at all.

“Everything ok princess?”

Gosh she sounded so hot, her voice scratching against her throat due to all the screaming she’d done hours prior. Your face flushed, your body raising abruptly to stand. The action caused Vi’s face to be directly in front of your crotch and you almost fainted. The pink haired girl cocked her head to the side, brows furring at your odd behavior. She opened her mouth to speak but paused when her eyes caught onto something. There was a wet patch on your pants. It was barely there and the fabric of your shorts hid it well but the angle she was looking up at you made it very clear. Vi’s mouth went dry for a moment. 

After everything that had happened with Caitlyn she had stopped thinking about a lot of things. Sex wasn’t something that was on her mind a lot. She’d hardly get horny lately but the realisation that you were standing in her room, your wet cunt inches from her face made something snap inside her. 

You hadn't registered that Vi knew what was happening, far too focused on slowing your heartbeat to notice the gears turning in Vi’s head. You felt her hand wrap around your thigh, making your head snapp down to look at her. Vi’s pupils were incredibly dilated, she licked her bottom lip absentmindedly, not knowing how the action affected you. 

“Need a little help with this?”

She nodded her head at your crotch and you swore you could die of embarrassment. You unlatched yourself from her grip stumbling against her bed as you tried to move away from her. 

“I’m sorry I didn't mean to. You were so close and I just started thinking about the feeling of…”

Vi rose from the floor, watching as you struggled to make full sentences. She’d never seen you this flushed before, you were usually very confident around her. The thought that she could manage to make you this flustered thrilled her more than she had anticipated. 

“Hey.”

Vi’s voice made you look up from the floor, eyes moving against her features. She placed her hand on your cheek, slowly inching herself closer to you. Her knee slipped between your legs and you let out a whine. Vi smiled, her face mere inches from yours.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, princess.”

She moved her leg up putting more pressure against your pussy. Your hand latched onto her shoulder, nails digging into the muscles as you gasped. 

“So. Do you want my help or not?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

You could feel Vi’s breath against your lips as she spoke.

“I want to.”

You couldn’t take this anymore. Your body launched forward, lips crashing into Vi’s in a desperate kiss. You bit into her lip causing her to groan against your mouth. Vi grabbed at your hips, tugging you up. You wrapped your legs around her waist. She placed a hand on the back of your waist as the other moved to give your ass a squeeze. You gasped against her lips, allowing her to slip her tongue inside your mouth. Her boots clanged against the floor as she walks both of you over to her makeshift bed. She sinks down to her knees, placing you down on the edge of the bed as she continues to attack your mouth. You let out a content sigh as she moved to kiss your neck. 

“Vi i…”

“Yeah?”

She hasn’t even touched you yet and your voice already sounds so fucked out. It makes pride swell into her chest. Your hands grip at her locks tugging them slightly. She detaches her lips from your collarbone at the action, blue eyes gazing up at you.

“You gonna keep teasing or are you gonna help me out?”

“Bossy.”

“You know you love it.”

Vi smiles, nipping at your bottom lip for a moment before answering.

“I really do.”

The confession makes you blush and Vi thinks it’s the cutest thing ever. Her hands move to your waist, tugging at the hem of your shorts. You lift your hips up, allowing her to pull them down your legs. She runs her finger against your clothes cunt, making you buck your hips up. She leans down to kiss your stomach, slowly inching herself lower. Her hand pushes against your stomach, silently telling you to lean back. You do as she asks laying on the bed beneath you. Vi’s hand latch onto your underwear, giving the waistband a small slap against your skin before begging to tug them off. Vi’s brain almost shortcuts at the sight of your bare pussy before her. You’re so incredibly wet for her that it takes her a moment to recover cognitive function. 

“Vi.”

Her name escapes your lips in a throaty whine,causing her to look up at your face.

“Please.”

You are begging for her to give you some release. Begging for her to fuck you stupid with her tongue. And by god if that doesn’t make her horny.

She tugs your legs over her shoulder, shifting herself in a more comfortable position before leaning down to give a lick to your slit. Your reaction is immediate. Your hands latch onto her hair, hips bucking as you chase the feeling of her tongue. The soft whine that escapes your lips makes Vi’s heart pound. She dragged her tongue against your clit, giving it a rough suck before continuing to lapp at your folds. One of her hands moves from its position on your hips, moving up to grab at your tits. Her thumb moves over your clothed breasts, caressing them. But it’s not enough, you want to feel her skin against yours.

Your hips shift slightly as you force yourself to sit up. Vi glances at you curiously for a moment, trying to understand what you're doing. You grab the hem of your shirt tugging it over your head. Vi’s eyes widen as your bare chest is revealed to her. Before she can help it one of her hands wrapped around your breast giving it a squeeze. You let out a loud moan, causing Vi to look at your face. Your eyes are shut, lips slightly parted in pleasure.

“Hey.”

Your eyes open at Vi’s voice, head moving to look down at the girl.

“Eyes on me princess. I want to see you.”

You give her a small smile, shifting back to lean on your elbows. Vi gives you a pleased smile before moving her focus back to your pussy. You try all your might to keep your eyes on Vi as she eats you out but it’s quite the challenge. Vi can tell you're getting close by the way your legs begin to shake around her head. It causes her to move her hand, fingers moving to help her tongue as she brings you to your peak. Your walls clench around her digits as you coat her face in your cum. Your elbows give out as your orgasm washes over you, causing you to fall onto the bed.

“That's it, let it out princess.”

Vi helps you through it, lips moving to give kisses to your thighs as she carefully removes her fingers from inside you. You let out a moan at the sudden emptiness. Vi moves off the floor, climbing up into the bed beside you. She lays on her back, gazing up at the ceiling. You shift closer to her, legs entangeling with hers as you rest your head on her chest. Vi places a small kiss to your temple.

“I had no idea.”

You look up at her.

“About what?”

“That you were attracted to me.”

You let out a small laugh.

“Vi i’ve had a thing for you since that first night at the bar.”

“Oh really?”

You bite your lip, a mischievous look taking over your features. You sit up, shifting until your body is straddling Vi’s hips. She smiles up at you, her hands moving to grip your waist.

“What are you doing?”

“Showing you just how much I like you.”

[irisintheafterglow]

a kaiju attack spoils date night with bf!hoshina. he is so pissed.

cw: canon-typical violence, swearing, mild angst/fluff, happy surprise ending

"is it just me, or does the vice-captain seem angrier than usual?"

"maybe he's just fired up. there's a lot of yoju for him to take care of," iharu observes, scanning the emptied streets from the rooftop of an evacuated office building.

"you idiots really don't pay attention at all, do you?" shinomiya mumbles under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. the rest of the officers with her stare at her blankly. "it's thursday, geniuses."

"is there something special about kaiju appearances and days of the week?"

"not that i've heard of," kafka states, scratching his head with a finger. "did new research come out?"

"maybe it's because of the full moon," haruichi says and the other men look up at its soft shining light, nodding in understanding.

"that makes a lot of sense."

"but why would that make the vice-captain angry?"

"maybe he's a werewolf," iharu whispers with sincere worry. "maybe kafka's not the only shapeshifter in our division."

"it's date night, you meatheads! the vice-captain's supposed to be off-base and relaxing," shinomiya explains impatiently like it was written on the floors in fluorescent paint. "he's probably angry that the attack came right when he usually picks up..."

"picks up who?" the officers stiffen and quickly fall into perfect lines. you smile at their professionalism and try not to laugh at how quickly they changed their gossiping demeanors. "you know, officers, you should be careful about what you say in regards to the vice-captain."

"our deepest apologies, platoon leader," kaguragi monotoned, ever the perfect soldier.

"at ease," you command them. "you have nothing to apologize for. i'm simply warning you of what might have happened had it not been me passing by."

"understood, platoon leader," izumo confirms. "if we may," he continues slowly and you can see the rest of the officers eyeing him warily. "were we...correct in our assumption as to the reason for the vice-captain's mood?"

"the werewolf assumption or the assumption that only shinomiya was correct about?" everyone but shinomiya reddens, looking down sheepishly at the toes of their suits. the axe-wielder straightens her shoulders with a proud glint in her eyes. "to answer your question, it would be the latter," you answer with a poorly-hidden smirk. "he'd barely knocked on my door when the alarm sounded."

"oh, i bet the vice-cap was seething."

"he definitely was," you confirm, recalling the colorful curses he uttered as you both begrudgingly shed your nicer clothes for your combat suits. i was supposed to take off your clothes under different circumstances, he'd lamented. don't go thinking our night is canceled because of this. i'll finish them off quickly for you.

your relationship with hoshina was no secret, considering that he talked about you whenever he was given the chance. every kdf member on base knew you preferred to keep your romantic life as private as possible to avoid questions of power dynamics from higher-ranking officials. hoshina, however, either didn't listen or didn't seem to care. he happily declared thursday nights to be date nights, threatening intense punishment for the officers below him if they caused trouble while he was gone. a static-filled message from the scouting teams sounds in your earpiece and you dismiss the officers, moving to join the vice-captain at the front line.

judging by the slowly increasing trail of dead monsters covering the asphalt, you find hoshina easily as he cuts a clean slice through a fast-moving yoju. you change the frequency on your earpiece so that you're directly connected to his.

"someone's been busy," you remark, pulling the batons from your back and electrifying them with the switch by your thumb. they hum in your hands, electric blue lightning crackling in sync with the released power of your suit. "save some for me, would you?"

"any other day, i would," he replies and you hear him smile despite his annoyance. "but it took me three months to get those reservations, so i wanna finish this up quickly." another yoju falls, your boyfriend a phantom blur in the darkness.

"are you calling me slow?" your hand plants itself on your hip as you continue to watch him cut down enemies, barely moving from your place between the dead kaiju. "i can't believe my boyfriend thinks i'm slow. here i thought you were my biggest supporter."

"that's not what i said," he huffs, the slightest waver in his exhale the only evidence of exertion. "i'm just faster." he pauses for half a second to catch his breath, and you snag your chance to overtake him.

"hmm, i think i'll take over for a second, then." launching yourself from the ground, your feet run perpendicular against the wall of a crumbling building as you close the distance. you can feel hoshina's attention on you while you dodge the yoju's swinging limbs and sink your batons into the skin covering its core, electricity surging through its body as it falls with a loud thud. "how's that, mister i'm just faster?"

"cute," he admits, offering you a hand as you hop down from the monster's head. you're shoulder to shoulder facing opposite directions and catch the challenge in his eyes as you look at him over your shoulder. "but i know you can go harder."

"go your fastest then, soshiro," you dare. his throat bobs as he swallows thickly, a subtle sign that you'd thrown him off. "i'll do my best to keep up."

---

"so, this is not how i wanted date night to end up," he says through a mouth full of noodles, slurping them loudly from the bowl on your living room coffee table. "and i'm sorry we couldn't go to that fancy place."

"to be fair, the website didn't exactly update its hours immediately," you remind him. "how were we supposed to know the place got demolished in the attack?"

"true, but i made you get all dressed up for nothing," he grumbles, accidentally dropping a vegetable and splashing broth onto his face. "ow." you snort against your spoon, setting it down in your bowl and swiping over the corner of soshiro's mouth with a napkin. "this was my favorite shirt, too. worst date night ever."

"good thing there's this place called the cleaners, babe." he continues to frown despite your unending patience, letting you clean him up while he indulges in staring at you in your nice clothes. you could make anything look pretty, he thinks, staring unashamedly at you wrapped up in a blanket and covering your going-out clothes. "hey," you murmur, gently grabbing his chin and turning him to face you. "i don't mind."

"you don't mind what?"

"this kind of date night."

"but we could do this anytime," he mumbles, avoiding your eyes. you shake your head, pushing away your food and climbing into his lap, your legs on either side of his hips.

"no, we can't. we don't know how many times we get this in our line of work," you point out with an ache in your chest and he finally blinks up to look at you. "so i'm grateful for any time i get to spend with you, soshiro." his throat bobs again, but he manages to give you a small smile.

"you're too good for me, you know that?"

"if you say so," you shrug, leaning down until your lips barely brush his.

"but, you know," he murmurs and you pull back, staring into his starry eyes. "there's not a lot of nights," he inhales, reaching behind him to grab something from under the couch's throw pillow, "where i get to pull this move."

"what're you--ohmygod." he smirks at you as you blink down at the small box sitting in his hand, covered in crushed velvet and embroidered with gold. "that's-you didn't..."

"i did," he whispers, memorizing every inch of your shocked expression. "so," he pushes open the top half of the box with his thumb to reveal something that sparkles even in the dim lights of your apartment, "please--"

"yes!" you scream before he can finish his sentence, your excitement echoing off the walls as you both break out into wide grins. "holy shit, yes!"

"baby, i didn't even ask the whole question," he chuckles, giving in and slipping the ring on your finger. "what if that wasn't the question i was gonna ask?"

"i'd skewer your head with my batons," you smile sweetly and he hums, admiring the jeweled band in the light. "that was the question you were gonna ask, right?"

"of course, sweetheart," he assures you, finally leaning up to press his lips against yours. "you're the only one i'll ever let keep up with me."

"you gonna marry me, hoshina soshiro?"

"i'm gonna marry you so hard, the entire base will know." you fondly remember your conversation with the officers earlier in the night.

"darling, i think they already know."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[bunny-jpeg]

Can I please get a tiramisu with a side of champagne with an innocent reader and Lando Norris, please. 🙏

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? read the menu! i love the idea of an innocent!reader, that's so cute. with a sugar daddy!lando!! i imagine him being so sweet but then being a little devil in the bedroom! i hope you love this <3

tiramisu ("my little slut to ruin") + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by lando norris (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, fluff, dom!lando, mean!lando (in the bedroom), doggy style, dirty talk (a little degrading), innocent!reader, big dick!lando

lando didn't like the word "sugar daddy", because that implied he was paying you for sex. in all honesty, he felt nervous the first time he had sex with you.

you were a virgin, and he was taking your virginity. not that he really put much stock in the concept of virginity, but he didn't want to ruin your first time. he remembered that he fingered you for what felt like hours because he didn't want to bruise you.

when he did that he said to you, "i know this is stupid to say. but, i'm sorry for having a big cock." he made sure that you were comfortable before he (gently) fucked you. he remembered anxiously waiting while you basked in the after glow of orgasm to get a rating of his performance.

(you gave it 10/10!, even if you were a little sore the next morning)

since then you had grown into knowing what you like and don't like. you were curious as you never had a partner prior and through trial, error and the usage of safe words. you both figured out what you both liked.

lando didn't like slapping you, unless it was on your ass. you didn't like having you hair pulled. you both liked lando ran his mouth, even when his words got more depraved. lando liked when you called him daddy and you liked when he wrapped both arms around you when he took you doggy style. and you both liked after care, regardless of how intense the situation got. you both found comfort in holding one another as you settled down.

so was it really paying for sex if you were both getting off to it and had an open conversation? probably not!

-

you two had come back from a day of shopping. when most thought about a sugar baby spending their daddy's money. it mostly meant expensive items like diamonds and gold.

but not you. when you were picking up a bulk pack of cotton panties and winced at the price (under 8€), while lando sent you back into the store to get a second pack.

"it's fine, my love." he said as he gave you cheek a little pinch, "they're cute. they have flowers on them." and then scanned the rest of your items when you were away. you were a terrible sugar baby in that regard.

he one time found you cutting out a coupon from the cereal box and when he asked you what was going on. you said, "save us 2 euros." as you cut up the cardboard.

lando found it endearing. you clearly knew how much he was making a year, he could afford spending the extra 2 euros on cereal. but, you wanted to earn your keep.

you put the reusable bag in the bedroom before you got out of your clothes for the day. which meant padding around in a baggy t-shirt and sleeping shorts. you had socks on that were pulled up to your calves, they were a little bit big on you which made you think they were landos.

but they were very comfy as you went back to the couch. you sat down and lando threw an arm around you. he had taken one of the popsicles you bought on your last shopping trip and when you sat beside him, he pointed it towards you..

you leaned over and put your mouth around it, you made a sweet noise at the coolness on your tongue. it was very erotic. you looked up at him and gave the icy treat another lick.

sometimes lando forgot how innocent you were. you didn't know what you were doing when you pulled away and giggled.

"that was really good." you said, "can i have some more?" before he could respond, you happily ate some more of it.

when you pulled away, you could see lando swallow. you asked, "is everything okay, lando?"

he leaned in and pressed a kiss on your lips. the kiss was a big hungry as he felt his cock stir in his pants. when he pulled away, "finish it."

you took it from him, but when you did. he snaked his hand down the front of your shorts and he invaded your space. you yelped a little but moaned when you felt his fingers grazed across your pussy.

you quickly ate the sweet treat before lando took the stick and tossed it over his shoulder before be pulled him into a tight kiss. his fingers continued to play with your pussy.

"you're my good girl, right? my little slut to ruin?" he asked to test the waters if you wanted to go forward with it. he could feel his erection in his loose shorts.

you looked very hot pressed against the leather couch. you nodded, "i'm always a good girl for you, daddy." when lando gave you room, you quickly made your way to the bedroom.

lando thought you were painfully innocent sometimes. the idea that he was teaching you how to make yourself feel good made pride surge in him. it was so cute watching your little behind as you made your way to the bedroom.

he practically tackled you to the bed and rubbed his aching clothed erection against your ass as he palmed your breasts through your shirt, his nose was in your hair.

"daddy!" you yelped.

"you're so good for me. i've taught you how to feel good." he groaned as he continued to rub up against you, "i still have so much to teach you, poor thing can't take all of my cock down her pretty throat. maybe i'll get you a nice pink collar when i train you."

you whined, your panties felt soaked by his closeness to you. his hefty words in your ears as you wiggled under him. you soon felt his hands go to the waistband on your shorts and yank them down.

he continued to rub his cock up against your panty clad ass, he needed his baby girl. it wasn't fair that there were still so many layers on you.

he gave you a little room and watched you undress as he did the same. he stood there, beautiful as ever with his hard cock on full display. once you were naked, he got back onto the bed as rubbed his cock up against your cute little hole.

"you're so pretty like this. on your hands and knees, shiny hole for me." he groaned as he guided his cock into your pussy, bottoming out into you. he held onto your hips and started to thrust.

it was true, you were painfully cute. the perfect baby girl for him, even if he couldn't have sex with you. being around you and your sweetness was more than enough for him.

once he got a steady pace, he then wrapped his arms around you middle as he moved against you. he pressed his cheek up against your back as he rutted against you. the slick sounds of sex paired with your noises filled the room.

lando whispered praises into your skin as he moved. his cock felt so good inside of you, his breathing was heavy as he kept his pace fast. he felt the roll of pleasure in his body and he groaned heavily against you.

his cock throbbed inside of you. your cunt felt like a dream. it made him hot all over. you were painfully cute, even when you were being split by his impressive size.

"please, daddy. that feels so good." you whined as you arched your back. you could feel the pull of him in your stomach. your brain felt mushy, fueled by pleasure as he moved against you.

lando groaned against your skin, "you're the perfect girl for me. i lucked out, fuck. you're so good for me. clipping coupons and letting me fuck your sweet pussy. i lucked out." he kissed your heated flesh.

"please daddy."

"don't worry. i'm not goin' anywhere. i'm not leaving behind something so perfect." he kissed then at your cheek and rested his chin on your shoulder as he fucked you heavily.

his words made you hot all over, he watched you claw at the covers as he continued to thrust into you. he could feel the sweat down his neck as he continued to move.

the pleasure swirled through him as he moved. it all felt so good, it made him painfully hard. your combined noises made him shudder, he knew he wasn't going to last long. and neither were you.

you quickly came with your head in the sheets, your back arched further. you felt your heartbeat in your ears as he continued to fuck you. it was a erotic sight, the two of you fucking in the comfort of your own home.

"my precious girl."

"mmm, daddy." you whined, basking in the post orgasmic feeling.

he clenched onto you and finished inside of you with a hard thrust. he'd make sure you weren't in pain by tomorrow. he slowed down his pace to a still before he kissed the back of your head and whispered that he loved you.

you laid flat on the bed and found comfort in the soft covers as you panted heavily. lando then curled you up in his arms. he spooned you from behind as he kissed at your neck. you were so painfully cute, even when blissed out from the intensity of sex. he kissed at the shell of your ear gently.

"how was that? did i hurt you?"

you held onto his forearms as he held you and replied, "no, no. everything is perfect." you pressed your back further up against you and smiled softly, "you spoil me."

he chuckled and gave you another kiss on the neck, "always. i'll always spoil my baby." he squeezed you a little tighter. that was a promise to you.

[stylesispunk]

"Did the love affair maim you too?" | Part ii

Joel Miller xf!reader

part one | next part

chapter summary: After getting back his memories, Joel and you slipped away again.

word count: 15,3k (yes, it's longer than the first chapter)

warnings: angst, perhaps fluff, mentions of death, mentions of blood, and more angst, you will find out why Joel is mean in this chapter. I know I'm a teacher, but I didn't proofread, so I apologize for any mistake. paragraphs in italics indicate flashbacks.

a/n: Hello! The awaited part 2 of this story is here! I want to say thank you for the amount of love the previous part received, it was so nice to see all your reactions to this one! It was also my first fic reaching 1k> in less than a week and was overwhelming (positively). THIS IS NOT THE LAST PART, so stay tuned for the next! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! happy reading and PLEASE tell me what you think. 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

For a mere second of time, wanting was enough for you. In a harsh reality where a tender love couldn’t be part of the writing pages of a tragedy that had changed the plans destiny had for humanity, even a simple glimpse of a spark was enough to initiate the fire.

Finding a reason to wake up was enough. Joel was enough for you, even when it was a path with not a clear ending.

A lie.

A maim affair engulfed in fire burning your lungs.

A tragedy.

You looked up from your work as you sensed people entering at the place, your eyes meeting Joel’s for the first time. His expression was hard, his eyes narrowed as he sized you up. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you with a guarded look that made you feel like you were being evaluated.

“Can I help you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady under his intense gaze.

“She needs that looked at,” he said, his tone brusque as he gestured to Ellie’s arm.

You nodded, motioning for Ellie to sit down. As you began to clean the wound, you could feel Joel’s eyes on you, watching your every move. It was as if he was waiting for you to make a mistake, to prove that you didn’t belong there.

“So, you’re infamous nurse” Joel said after a moment, his voice still cool and distant.

You looked up from your work, meeting Joel’s eyes briefly before returning your focus to Ellie’s wound. His words hung in the air, a subtle challenge beneath the surface.

“Infamous?” you repeated, trying to keep your tone neutral. “I didn’t know I had a reputation.”

Joel shrugged, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze never leaving you. “Small town. People talk.”

You nodded, understanding that this was as much about sizing you up as it was about Ellie’s injury. You’d heard about Joel—everyone in Jackson had. He was a protector, a survivor, and not someone who trusted easily.

“I’m just here to help,” you said, keeping your voice steady as you wrapped Ellie’s arm with a bandage. “That’s all.”

Ellie, sensing the tension, glanced between the two of you, her eyes wide. “She’s okay, Joel,” she said, trying to ease the atmosphere. “It’s just a scratch.”

Joel didn’t respond to Ellie; his focus remained on you. There was something in his eyes—a guardedness, a wariness that told you he was waiting for you to prove yourself, or perhaps waiting for you to slip up.

“I’ve been in Jackson for a few days” you continued, finishing up with Ellie’s bandage. “Just trying to do my part.”

“Everyone’s got a part to play,” Joel said, his tone still clipped. “Just make sure you know yours.”

You felt the sting of his words but didn’t let it show. Instead, you nodded, stepping back as Ellie hopped off the table.

“Thanks,” Ellie said, giving you a small smile.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, managing a smile in return.

Joel pushed off the wall, his eyes still on you as he motioned for Ellie to follow him. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice softening slightly when he spoke to her.

As they walked towards the door, Joel paused for a brief moment, his hand resting on the doorknob. He turned back, his eyes meeting yours once more. There was something in his gaze, something more than just suspicion. It was as if he was searching for something in you, trying to read who you really were beneath the surface.

For a second, the hardened lines of his face softened, but just as quickly, the guarded expression returned. Without another word, he turned away and led Ellie out of the infirmary, the door closing behind them with a quiet thud.

You felt like breathing again.

By the moment you had reached your house, the sun had barely risen, casting a pale light over the quiet settlement. A few people were starting their duties as you walked with dried tears on your face, just wanting not to be perceive and being able to take a shower and follow your routine as you always used to die it since your arrival, but the ache was bigger than your wiliness and you ended up lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, the horror on Joel’s face kept replaying in your mind. The heartbreak was raw and overwhelming, making it hard to breathe, let alone face the day.

You didn’t even notice you had fallen sleep until a knock came at your door, it took a moment for you to register the sound. You dragged yourself out of bed, wiping at your newly fresh tears from your eyes and trying to compose yourself as best as you could.

Opening the door, you found Maria standing there, her expression concerned.  “Hey,” she said softly, her eyes scanning your face. “Ramirez told me you didn’t show up at the infirmary this morning. Thought I’d check on you.”

You forced a weak smile, stepping aside to let her in. “Thanks, Maria. I just... fell asleep”

Maria nodded, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. She glanced around, taking in the disarray before turning back to you. “You don’t look like you’ve slept much.”

“I had a pretty good sleep” you said, voice breaking at how you so could still picturing Joel’s eyes looking at you with adoration last night “But morning came” you said, voice breaking “Joel got his memory back.”

Maria's eyes widened with concern and understanding. She moved closer, gently placing a hand on your arm. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes again. "He doesn't remember loving me, Maria. He thinks I took advantage of him. He hates me."

Maria's expression softened, and she pulled you into a comforting hug. "I can't imagine how painful that must be for you. But you didn't take advantage of him. You both shared something real, even if he doesn't remember it now."

You clung to her, "I don't know what to do. I feel so lost right now."

Maria pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "Take it one step at a time. Give yourself permission to feel what you're feeling. And remember, you have people here who care about you. You don't have to go through this alone."

You nodded, trying to find some comfort in her words. "Thanks, Maria. I just... I don't know how to face him now."

Maria squeezed your hand reassuringly. "You don't have to figure it all out today. Take some time for yourself. Maybe stay away from the infirmary for a today? give yourself a break."

You sighed, feeling lost. "Yeah, maybe that's a good idea."

Maria smiled softly. "We'll figure this out together, okay? You're stronger than you think, and you have a lot of people who care about you."

You managed a small smile. "Thanks.”

She nodded, giving you another comforting squeeze before standing up. "I'll check in on you later, alright? And if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

As she left, you felt a small sense of humiliation, as if what had just happened was just a small piece of gossip to feed a community.

You stare at the wall for a minute, getting your stuff together. If you could get over what happened before arriving to Jackson, you could follow your life. That’s what you were making yourself believe.

So, you changed into new clothes, placing Joel’s shirt under your bed to not having sight of it again. And with a deep breath you left your house, walking to de infirmary to get your job done.

A broken heart wasn’t really a big issue in an already broken world.  

As you walked to the infirmary, the weight of the morning's events lingered in your chest. The usual bustle of the settlement seemed distant, like a muted backdrop to your internal turmoil. Every step felt heavy, but you kept moving, determined to focus on your responsibilities and find some semblance of normalcy.

Upon arriving at the infirmary, you were greeted by the familiar soft hum of activity. People glanced at you with curiosity, but no one asked any questions. You were grateful for their unspoken understanding, and you quickly immersed yourself in your tasks, finding solace in the routine.

Hours passed in a blur of tending to some Jackson residents, organizing supplies, and ensuring everything was in order. The work kept your mind occupied, though it couldn't completely drown out the ache in your heart.

As the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw Maria standing there, her expression gentle yet firm.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft but steady. "How are you holding up?"

You managed a small, tired smile. "I'm getting by. Staying busy helps."

Maria nodded, understanding in her eyes. "I'm glad you're here. I just wanted to check in and see if you needed anything."

You shook your head. "I don’t want to talk. It’s over” you said, avoiding her gaze.

She placed a reassuring hand on your arm. "I know you said you don't want to talk, but I'm here if you change your mind," she said softly. "Sometimes it helps to just let it out."

You looked at her, the pain still fresh in your eyes. "Thanks, Maria. Maybe... maybe later. I just need some time now."

She nodded, respecting your need for space. "Take all the time you need. Just remember, we're here for you."

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, a bit of rage simmered.

“You all were the ones who told me to go for it. You told me Joel was in love for me and him recovering his memory wouldn’t break what was there, but this morning he treated me like a whore and broke my heart.”

Maria's eyes filled with sympathy and regret. "I know, and I'm so sorry for what you're going through. We all believed it would be different. Joel... he's complicated. The things he's been through have left deep scars. But that doesn't excuse how he treated you."

You took a shaky breath, the pain still fresh and raw. "I just don't understand how it could change so quickly. One moment, we were so happy, and the next... he hates me."

Maria reached out, placing a comforting hand on your arm. "Joel's been through a lot, and sometimes people lash out when they're scared or confused. But that doesn't make it any easier for you. You deserve better than that."

You nodded, tears welling up again. "I just wanted to be happy. I thought we could be happy together."

Maria's grip tightened slightly, a gesture of support. "You will be happy again. It might not feel like it now, but you will. You're strong, and you have people who care about you. We'll get through this together."

Maria gave your arm one last reassuring squeeze before stepping back. You watched her leave, feeling of sorrow. The pain was still there, but you knew it would take time, but you also knew you wouldn't have to face it alone.

Later that evening, the emotional turmoil still roiling within you, you decided to head to the bar. You hoped the familiar atmosphere and a drink might help numb the pain, even if just for a little while. As you pushed open the door, the hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses filled the air, a stark contrast to the quiet despair you felt inside.

You made your way to the bar, trying to avoid looking around too much, but it was impossible not to notice Joel sitting at a table in the corner. His arm was wrapped around Lori, and they were laughing together, looking every bit like a happy couple. The sight hit you like a punch to the gut, the wound from the morning’s confrontation ripping open all over again.

Taking a deep breath, you walked up to the bar and ordered a drink, trying to keep your hands from shaking as you waited, Rick, the bartender, sensing your mood offered a small smile.

“What’s wrong with your face, darling?” he asked, concerned on his eyes.

You graced him with a small, tired smile at the question. “Just a rough day,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded understandingly, setting your drink in front of you. “Well, here’s something to help take the edge off. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” you said, taking a sip of the drink. The warmth of the alcohol spread through you, momentarily dulling the pain.

As you sat there, trying to lose yourself in the comforting anonymity of the bar, you couldn’t help but glance back at Joel and Lori. Their laughter and closeness were a stark contrast to the emptiness you felt. You turned away quickly, not wanting to see any more.

“Is it Joel?” Rick asked gently, his voice cutting through your thoughts.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak without breaking down.

He sighed sympathetically, shaking his head. “Love can be a real mess sometimes.”

You chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

The bartender gave you a knowing look. “It’ll get better, you know. It might not seem like it now, but time has a way of healing these things.”

You took another sip of your drink, hoping he was right. “I hope so.”

“If you need anything, just ask me, okay?” he said, smiling at you before going back to his task.

You took another sip of your drink, hoping he was right. “I hope so.”

You nodded, trying to muster a smile in return. As the Rick moved away, you felt the weight of the day pressing down on you again. Lost in thought, you barely noticed the person sitting next to you until you felt their presence.

Turning slightly, you saw Joel, his expression unreadable. Your heart skipped a beat, a mix of emotions surging through you, all the pain, anger, and a lingering trace of love.

Perhaps he was here to apologize.

Joel cleared his throat, looking almost as uncomfortable as you felt. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty.

You stared at him, trying to gauge his intentions. “Hey,” you replied, your voice strained.

Joel shifted in his seat, glancing at the drink in front of you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to say much more. The sight of him so close, the contrast memories of his tender touch last night and the harsh words from the morning still fresh, made it hard to breathe.

He took a deep breath, his eyes finally meeting yours. “Look, about this morning…I was asking myself if I should let my door open tonight for you to come in the lure or something?”

The laugh he made after that cracked your already broken heart. The sound was harsh, cruel, and it cut through you like a knife. Your eyes widened in disbelief, and you felt your entire body tense.

“You think this is funny?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with hurt and anger. “You think what happened between us is something to joke about?”

Joel’s laughter died on his lips as he saw the hurt and anger in your eyes. “I- “

“What did you mean? you interrupted, your voice rising despite your efforts to keep it steady. “Because it sure as hell feels like you’re entertaining yourself by making jokes right now.”

Joel's face twisted into a bitter expression. “What do you expect me to say? That I suddenly remember everything and I'm head over heels for you? Life doesn't work that way, princess”

Your heart sank further, the cruelty of his words stinging more than you wanted “You don’t have to be cruel to be funny, Joel. You could at least try to understand what I’m going through.”

He leaned back, crossing his arms defensively. “Understand what? That you’re upset because you tried to rewrite a history that doesn’t exist between us? I’m sorry, but I can’t change how I feel—or don’t feel.”

You shook your head, feeling an anger bubbling within you. “You don’t get it.” You said, simply. Taking a seat on the stool, again.

Joel’s expression hardened. “You’re too busy living in a fantasy to see that whatever you think happened between us is over. I don’t remember it, and I don’t care to. Move on.”

You looked at him, fighting the tears. “I will move on from you. You’re not that important.” You looked towards the direction he had come from, not breaking the façade. You immediately spotted Lori who seemed amused at Joels treating you badly. “Go back to your woman, Miller”

Joel’s jaw tightened at your words, and he leaned in closer, his voice low and laced with anger. “You know what? I will. At least she knows where we stand. Unlike you, clinging to some fantasy that never existed.”

Your vision blurred with anger and hurt as you stared at him. “You really think you’re better than me.”

He smirked, a cruel glint in his eyes. “I’m done with your drama.”

The words hit you like a slap, and before you could stop yourself, you balled your hand into a fist and swung at him. The punch landed squarely on his jaw, causing him to stagger back, a look of shock and pain flashing across his face.

The bar fell silent as everyone turned to witness the commotion. Joel touched his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you, anger and something else—something more vulnerable—flickering in his gaze.

“Don’t you ever talk to me like that again” you spat, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. “You are the worst mistake I’ve done here.”

Joel's eyes blazed with a mix of anger and shock, but he didn’t say anything. You could see his jaw clenching, and the vulnerability in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, hardened look. The silence in the bar was deafening, every eye on you.

You didn’t wait for his response. You turned on your heel and marched towards the door, your heart pounding in your chest. The weight of your emotions threatened to overwhelm you, but you refused to let Joel see you break down.

As you pushed the door open, the cool night air hit your face, offering a small respite from the intensity of the bar. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the tears you had been holding back finally spilled over. You wiped them away angrily, not wanting to show any more weakness.

As you stormed out into the night, the tears mingling with the cool air, you heard the door swing open behind you. Heavy footsteps quickly followed, and you knew who it was before you even turned around.

"Hey," Tommy called out, his voice filled with concern. "Wait up."

You spun around to face him, your anger and hurt bubbling over. "What do you want, Tommy?" you snapped, your voice trembling with emotion. "Did you come to see the fallout of your brother's words?"

Tommy stopped a few feet away, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "I came to check on you," he said softly. "I saw what happened in there. Are you okay?"

You laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and broken. "Do I look okay to you, Tommy? Your brother just ripped my dignity there?”

Tommy's eyes were filled with sympathy. "I know Joel can be a real asshole sometimes. But he's just confused. This whole memory thing has messed with his head."

You shook your head, the tears streaming down your face. "No, Tommy. This isn't his memory. He doesn't care about me. He never did. He never will”

Tommy took a step closer, his expression pained. "That's not true. I know my brother, and I know he cared about you. He's just scared. He doesn't know how to handle this."

You scoffed, the anger boiling over. “Care about me?” you laughed. “He was just dumfounded. What you saw inside is the real him.”

Tommy's face twisted with concern, his eyes pleading for you to understand. “Look, I know it seems like that right now, but Joel’s been through a lot. This memory thing has him all messed up.”

You shook your head, your voice trembling. “No, Tommy. You didn’t hear the things he said. He thinks I took advantage of him. He doesn’t remember any of the good times, any of the moments we shared. He just sees me as some... some opportunist.”

Tommy sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what to say. Joel’s always been stubborn, and this whole situation is making it worse. But you’re not alone in this. We all care about you.”

“Caring about me doesn't fix what he did," you said, your voice breaking. "He treated me like I was nothing.”

“I get it. I really do,” Tommy replied, his voice softening. “Just... give it time. Maybe things will get clearer.”

“Time won’t change what he said. It won’t change how he made me feel,” you replied, the bitterness in your voice evident.

Tommy opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, realizing there were no words that could ease your pain. He took a step back, giving you space. “I’m here if you need me. Just remember that.”

“I don’t need the baby miller protecting me.” You spoke. “From now on, I’m just the nurse and if you need me patrolling, I don’t want Joel near me.”

Tommy's face fell slightly, but he nodded, understanding the gravity of your words. "Alright. I'll make sure to arrange things so you don't have to cross paths with him."

You could see the concern in his eyes, but you didn't have the energy to address it. "Thank you," you said, your voice hollow. "I need to be alone now."

Tommy hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Take care of yourself, alright?" He turned and walked back towards the bar, leaving you standing alone in the quiet night.

As you watched him go, you felt a mixture of relief and sadness. The night air was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to find some semblance of comfort.

Turning away from the bar, you started walking, not sure where you were heading but knowing you needed to move. Each step felt heavy, but you forced yourself to keep going. You would find a way to heal, even if it felt impossible right now.

One step at a time, you told yourself again. One step at a time.

Week one.

You had promised yourself to not having. And Joel had had started to have punctuating headaches.

When he arrived, he noticed another guy standing where you used to be. The unfamiliar face caught him off guard, and a sense of unease settled in his stomach.

"Where's the nurse?" Joel asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

The new guy, a young man with sandy hair and a nervous demeanor, looked up from his preparations. "She asked to be reassigned. Said she didn't want to do patrols anymore."

Joel's heart sank. "Did she say why?"

Before the guy could answer, Tommy walked over, overhearing the conversation. "I'll take it from here," Tommy said, looking at the new guy, who nodded and walked away.

Joel turned to Tommy, his expression a mix of confusion and worry. "What's going on, Tommy? Why'd she ask to be reassigned?"

Tommy sighed, crossing his arms. "She didn't want to be around you, Joel.”

Joel felt a pang of guilt and frustration. "I didn't mean for things to get this bad. I was just... I was trying to deal with everything, I think I handled it wrong."

Tommy nodded. "Yeah, you did. And now she’s moving on as you asked her to.”

Joel's chest tightened at Tommy's words. "I didn't think she'd actually was…I- I thought she’d... I don’t know, understand.”

"Understand what, Joel?" Tommy asked, his tone sharper than usual. "That you were scared and hurt, so you took it out on her? You made your bed, now you’ve gotta lie in it."

Joel ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his mistakes. “Okay what’s so wrong? Since when she is in love with me?”

“Did you know she was the one who brought you back here when you feel and hit your head so hard you forgot about her? Or about all this past year?” Tommy said exasperated, “She was there for you every single day and man, she was scared of letting you in because she knew all this was going to happen.”

Joel's mind reeled as Tommy's words sank in. "She brought me back?" he echoed, a wave of guilt washing over him.

"Yeah," Tommy said, his voice heavy with frustration. "She did everything for you. Every single day. And you just pushed her away like she meant nothing."

Joel felt his heart constrict. He had been so consumed by his own confusion and pain that he hadn’t stopped to consider what she had gone through. "I didn't know. I didn't remember."

"That’s the point, Joel. You didn't remember, and instead of trying to understand, you lashed out at her."

Joel nodded slowly, trying to absorb the pieces of new information.

"You can't just fix this with a few words, Joel.” Tommy added, as if he had just read his brother’s mine. “She had gone through much already.”

“What do you mean by that?” Joel asked, concern came from nowhere.

Tommy sighed deeply, looking away for a moment before meeting Joel's gaze again. "She went through hell before she even got here, Joel.”

Tommy’s words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken pain. Joel's brow furrowed as he tried to grasp what his brother was saying.

"What do you mean?" Joel asked, his voice low and hesitant, the concern now unmistakable.

Tommy looked at him for a long moment, as if debating whether to reveal something he wasn’t sure Joel was ready to hear. Finally, he sighed, his expression softening with a mix of empathy and frustration.

"She was on her own for a long time before she found Jackson," Tommy began, his tone measured. "Lost her family, everyone she ever cared about. Saw things that would break most people. But she survived. She made it here, and despite everything, she decided to stay and help us. She didn’t have to, but she did. And when you came back hurt and lost, she put everything into helping you, even though she knew it was a risk."

Joel felt a lump forming in his throat as Tommy spoke. He had been so wrapped up in his own struggles that he hadn’t seen the depth of what she had endured.

"And you," Tommy continued, his voice thick with emotion, "you were her last straw, Joel. She let her guard down for you, and you crushed her.

Joel’s heart ached at Tommy’s words. He felt the sting of regret deep in his chest, knowing that he had only added to her pain.

"Tommy, I..." Joel started, but the words failed him. What could he say that would make any of this right?

"You need to understand something, Joel," Tommy said, his voice firm but not unkind. "She’s not just some woman who’s here to patch us up and send us on our way. She’s a survivor, just like us. And she deserves a hell of a lot better than what you gave her."

Joel nodded, feeling the full weight of his actions pressing down on him. He realized now just how much he had taken for granted, how much he had failed to see.

That same afternoon, the weight of his guilt and determination pressing heavily on his chest, Joel made his way to the infirmary. He had rehearsed what he would say a hundred times in his head, but the closer he got, the more uncertain he felt. He needed to talk to you, to apologize, to start making things right.

When he arrived, he hesitated at the door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open. The familiar smell of antiseptic and the soft hum of activity greeted him as he stepped inside.

You were at the far end of the room, organizing supplies and preparing to leave for the day. Your back was turned to him, and for a moment, he just stood there, unsure of how to start. But then you sensed his presence and turned around, your eyes meeting his.

For a brief second, something flickered in your gaze—recognition, maybe even surprise—but it was quickly replaced by a cold, distant expression.

"Hey," Joel said, his voice sounding more tentative than he intended.

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you continued with what you were doing, organizing a stack of medical supplies. It was clear you were trying to keep busy, to avoid engaging with him.

"Can we talk?" Joel asked, taking a cautious step closer.

You paused, your hands stilling for a moment before you turned to face him fully. Your expression was unreadable, your eyes guarded. "I'm busy, Joel," you said, your tone clipped and distant.

Joel felt a pang in his chest at your coldness, but he knew he deserved it. "I know. I just... I wanted to apologize. For everything. I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry."

You looked at him for a long moment, your expression hard. "I don’t need your apologies," you replied, your voice steady but laced with an edge of bitterness. "What’s done is done."

Joel swallowed, feeling the sting of your words. "I understand that, but I still want to make things right. I want to try."

You shook your head, a small, bitter smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "You can’t just fix this with a few words, Joel. You made it clear how you felt. I was so pathetic for seeking tender love in a world like this, and I was so pathetic for accepting it from you."

Joel flinched at your words, the harsh truth of them cutting deep. He opened his mouth to respond, to say something—anything—that might reach you, but you were already moving past him, grabbing your coat and heading for the door.

"Wait," he said, reaching out to stop you, but you brushed past him without a second glance.

"I’m done with this conversation, Joel," you said over your shoulder, your voice cold and final. "If you have something to say, save it for someone who cares or maybe for when you fuck Lori.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move, his heart pounding in his chest as he replayed the conversation in his head. The way you looked at him—so detached, so unlike the sweet person you were—shattered any remaining hope he had of mending things between you. Joel clenched his fists frustration welling up inside him.

And with that, you were gone, leaving Joel standing in the infirmary, the empty room echoing with the silence of everything left unsaid.

Week two.

The distance between you and Joel grew even wider. You kept yourself busy with your duties at the infirmary, throwing yourself into work to avoid thinking about him. Jackson was large enough that it wasn’t hard to avoid each other, especially since you made a point to steer clear of any places where you might run into him.

Joel, on the other hand, wasn’t faring as well. The days felt like they were dragging on, each one heavier than the last. The guilt and the lingering regret of how things had ended between you, was starting to take a toll on him. He found it harder to concentrate on anything, his mind constantly wandering back to you, replaying your last conversation over and over again.

Things hadn’t started bad between the both of you. There was a time, not too long ago, when things between you and Joel had been different—better. When you first arrived in Jackson. He was wary, of course, just as everyone. People with big walls up for protecting the same from the dangers from the outside.

Initially, he had kept his distance, observing you with a cautious eye. But as days turned into weeks, something shifted. You’d taken on the role of a nurse with a quiet determination, and your compassion and dedication gradually began to break through the walls Joel had built around himself.

There was one particular evening when you both found yourselves at a small community gathering. It was one of those special moments for people to unwind and reconnect. Joel, usually reserved and gruff, had shown up with Ellie in tow, and you were surprised to find him engaging in casual conversation, a rare sight indeed.

You and Joel had ended up chatting while sitting around a makeshift bonfire. The conversation had started with practical matters—how best to handle a certain type of injury or a recommendation for new supplies—but soon it evolved into more personal topics. Joel had shared stories from his past life, and you found yourself opening up about your own one.

The old versions of two people trapped in the endless tragedy

The atmosphere was relaxed, and for the first time, you saw a different side of Joel.

Joel was seated across from you, a relaxed look on his face that you rarely saw. His eyes, usually so guarded, were softer tonight. Ellie was nearby, occupied with a makeshift game she’d crafted from scavenged materials.

“So, you actually went through all that trouble for a single, mediocre meal?” you asked, chuckling at Joel’s tale of a particularly botched cooking attempt.

Joel grinned, a rare and genuine smile that lit up his face. “You’d be surprised what we went through to get even a half-decent meal back then. We were pretty desperate.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I can’t imagine. I’m just grateful for what we’ve got now, even if it’s not gourmet.”

Joel nodded in agreement. “Yeah, things are better here. A lot better than they were.”

There was a comfortable silence between you, punctuated only by the crackling of the fire. You glanced at Joel, noticing how his eyes softened as he spoke. “I’m glad you’re here. It’s nice to have someone who understands what it’s like out there.”

Joel met your gaze, his expression sincere. “And I’m glad you’re here too. You’ve done a lot for everyone. For Ellie, especially.”

For Joel, dealing with all of this started to become unbearable the moment migraines hit. They had started as a dull ache, a constant pressure in his head that he could push through if he focused hard enough. But as the days went on, the pain intensified, becoming sharp and unrelenting. The pounding in his skull would come in waves, leaving him dizzy and disoriented. He tried to hide it at first, not wanting anyone to see him weak, but it wasn’t long before people began to notice.

He’d find himself gripping the edges of tables or leaning against walls to steady himself, his vision blurring as the pain surged through him. He hadn’t had migraines like this in years, not since the early days when the world had first gone to hell. But these were different, more intense, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were somehow connected to something else.

Maybe someone, his thoughts screamed.

Tommy noticed too, of course. He had been keeping a close eye on his brother ever since the confrontation in the infirmary, and it didn’t take long for him to realize that something was wrong.

Joel had just returned from patrol; his face pale and his movements unsteady. As he walked through the door of the house, he winced, his hand pressing against his temple. The migraine had hit him hard, and he was struggling to keep it together.

Tommy was already in the kitchen, grabbing a drink when he noticed Joel’s distress. He set the cup down, crossing the room quickly. “You okay, Joel?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Joel tried to force a casual shrug, but the pain in his head made it difficult. “Yeah, just—” He hesitated, trying to find a plausible excuse. “—just got a bit of a headache. My new patrol partner’s been causing me more stress than usual. You know how it is.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Your new partner? We’ve only had him for a few days. Doesn’t seem like he’d cause this much trouble.”

Joel rubbed his temples more vigorously, trying to stave off the waves of pain. “It’s been rougher than I expected, okay? Just one of those days.”

Tommy didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push the issue further. “Alright, if you say so. But if this keeps up, you should get it checked out. Don’t let it go too long.”

Joel nodded, grateful for Tommy’s concern but unwilling to admit the full extent of his struggle. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just need to rest.”

Joel couldn’t even convince himself. He just didn’t find strength to face you.

That evening, the bar was lively, filled with the hum of conversation and laughter. Joel sat at a corner table with Lori, Tommy, and Maria. He was trying to focus on the conversation, but the throbbing pain in his head made it difficult. Lori, noticing his discomfort, kept a concerned eye on him, occasionally reaching out to touch his arm reassuringly.

As you walked in, the bar’s ambient noise seemed to momentarily quieten, and Joel’s gaze instinctively shifted toward you. You moved with purpose, but your demeanor was cold and distant. Tommy and Maria spotted you first and greeted you warmly.

“Hey, it’s good to see you,” Tommy said, waving you over.

Maria offered a friendly smile. “Yeah, come join us.”

You returned their greetings with a nod, but when your eyes met Joel’s, you turned your attention elsewhere, ignoring him completely. Joel shifted in his seat, trying to hide his discomfort, but the strain was visible in the tense lines of his face.

Lori noticed the awkwardness and frowned. “You could at least hide you jealously and stop being a mean bitch” she said to you, loud enough for everyone around to shut.

The bar’s noise seemed to drop as Lori's words cut through the air. You felt every eye on you as the tension escalated.

You turned to Lori, your face hardening. “I’m not here to entertain you or play nice.”

Lori’s face flushed with anger. “Well, if you can’t be civil, then maybe you shouldn’t be here at all.”

Joel, trying to defuse the situation, interjected, “Lori, that’s enough.” His voice was strained, both from the growing migraine and the emotional weight of the confrontation. “We don’t need to make this any worse.”

“No! I’m tired of this bitch being a pain to us just because you don’t love her back” she continued, calling you out.

Joel’s face tightened with a mix of frustration and pain. “Lori, seriously, stop. This isn’t helping anyone.”

You stood tall, your voice icy as you spoke. “I don’t need a lecture from you or anyone else. I’ve been nothing but professional, and this—” you gestured between yourself and Joel, “—is a personal matter. I’m done being the target of everyone’s frustration.”

Joel’s gaze wavered, his eyes reflecting the hurt from your words. “You don’t have to be like this.”

“No,” you snapped, “I don’t have to be here at all. If you want to know why I’m acting this way, it’s because I don’t want to be around someone who can’t see my worth.” Your voice cracked with emotion. “You can keep Joel. I don’t want a man who can’t appreciate me.”

You sighed, taking a deep breath. “I’m so done with all your pity because the man I’m in love with doesn’t remember loving me. But life moves on, and so do I. I’m done being the center of anyone’s misplaced sympathy.” You sighed a little, embarrassment creeping up your body “I’m just- I want you all to stop talking about me as if I’m a broken little girl, please.”

With a final, resolute glance at the group and the rest of people inside, you turned and walked out of the bar. The door swung shut behind you, the muffled noise of the bar fading as you stepped into the night.

Joel froze there, the harsh sting of your words lingering.

The man I’m in love with.

Why did you even love him?

Joel’s heart pounded in his chest as he processed your words. The sting of your rejection mixed with the searing pain in his head, making it hard to think clearly. He stood frozen for a moment, watching you leave, his mind racing with regret and confusion.

After a few seconds, he shook himself out of his daze. He could feel Lori’s eyes on him, her frustration still palpable. Ignoring her, Joel pushed himself up from the barstool, his movements tense and hurried.

“Sorry, I need to go,” he muttered, his voice rough and distant. He didn’t wait for a response and headed for the door. As he stepped outside, the cool night air hit him, offering a brief reprieve from the oppressive atmosphere of the bar.

Joel saw you standing just outside the bar, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. The cool night air seemed to accentuate the solitude you radiated, and the flickering streetlight cast uneven shadows over your face. Joel’s heart ached as he approached, the intensity of his migraine fading into the background compared to the weight of his regret.

He stopped a few feet away, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "Hey," he said, his voice rough but gentle. "I didn't mean to... to make things worse tonight."

You looked up, your eyes meeting his. They were red-rimmed, a sign of the emotional toll the evening had taken. "What do you want, Joel?" Your voice was quiet but edged with defiance.

Joel shifted uncomfortably, the words coming out in a rush. "I know I screwed up. I know I can’t undo what’s been done. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. I was a damn fool, and I didn’t see how much you were hurting."

You shook your head, looking away. "It’s too late for apologies. You made your choices."

“I know,” Joel admitted, his voice heavy with sorrow.

“Go back inside to your woman” you said, voice steady yet the truth of the words cut your throat.

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with an aching with regret and yearning. He could feel the pounding in his head lessen, as if your presence, though tense and fraught with pain, was soothing the storm within him.

He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "I don't want to go back inside. I came out here to talk to you. I need to explain—"

You cut him off, your voice colder now. "I don’t want explanations, Joel. I want you to be honest with yourself and with me."

Joel's expression faltered, his usual resolve wavering under the weight of his migraine and the emotional strain. "I don't know what to say," he admitted quietly. "Every time I try to make things right, I just seem to make it worse."

"Look," Joel said, taking a step closer, though he kept a respectful distance. "I know I can’t fix everything right now, and I know I’ve hurt you more than I ever intended. But if there's any chance at all to mend things, I want to try. I need to try."

You glanced at him, feeling the strange mix of emotions. His presence, his apology, even his struggle, created a confusing pull. You nodded, not trusting your voice.

"Just... take things slow," you said finally, your voice softening slightly. "Show me, don’t just tell me."

You gave him one last, lingering look before turning away, the night air feeling strangely lighter as you walked back toward your house. Joel watched you go, a fragile sense of relief mingled with the lingering weight of his migraine.

Joel nodded, his heart aching.

Week three

The situation between you and Joel remained tense and unresolved. Despite the brief moment outside the bar, there was still an emotional chasm between you two. Meanwhile, Joel's migraines continued to worsen, each one more debilitating than the last. The pain had become a constant companion, gnawing at him, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

Tommy had been watching his brother closely, his concern growing with each passing day. He had noticed how Joel winced at the slightest noise, how he gripped the edges of tables to steady himself, and how he often retreated to dark corners to try and alleviate the pain. Tommy knew something had to give, and he wasn't sure how much longer Joel could keep this up, especially with patrols still on the agenda.

During the morning, as the patrol assignments were being handed out, Tommy pulled Joel aside. “You sure you’re up for this?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “These migraines… they’re getting worse, Joel.”

Joel nodded, though the movement sent a sharp pain through his temples. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered, not wanting to admit how bad things had really gotten. “Just need to keep moving, keep my mind off it.”

Tommy sighed, not entirely convinced. “Alright, but I’m pairing you up with someone who won’t hesitate to call for backup if things go south.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, wondering who Tommy had in mind. His answer came when you walked into the room, your expression unreadable as you glanced at Tommy, then at Joel.

“You’re on patrol with Joel today,” Tommy said, his tone firm, leaving no room for argument. “Consider it part of the consequences for that little outburst at the bar the other night.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but then closed it, seemingly deciding against saying anything. Instead, you simply nodded, surprising both Tommy and Joel.

Due to your situation with Joel, you would have argued, pushed back, but you didn’t. Whether it was out of a sense of duty, or because you had your own reasons for going along with the assignment, neither man could tell.

Joel looked at you, his expression hard to read. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he knew that this patrol was going to be anything but ordinary. The tension between you two was palpable, and the fact that you hadn’t fought the assignment left him uneasy.

As the two of you geared up and headed out, the silence between you was thick, neither of you willing to break it first. The path ahead was familiar, but the atmosphere was charged with unresolved emotions and the weight of things left unsaid.

As you and Joel prepared to head out for patrol, Tommy pulled you aside, his expression serious. “Listen, I know things are tense between you two, but if Joel starts feeling bad, you come back immediately. No heroics, no pushing through it. Understood?”

You nodded, not meeting Tommy’s eyes. “Understood,” you replied, your tone neutral. The truth was, you didn’t know how you felt about being on patrol with Joel, but you weren’t going to argue with Tommy’s orders.

Tommy looked at you for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but he held back. Instead, he just gave you a small nod before turning back to Joel, who was adjusting his gear a few feet away.

Joel caught Tommy’s eye, and there was a silent exchange between the brothers—Tommy’s concern evident, and Joel’s stubborn determination clear.

Once outside the gates, the silence stretched between you and Joel, heavy and uncomfortable. The forest around you was quiet, the only sound was the crunch of your boots on the dirt path. You kept your eyes ahead, focused on the task at hand, but you couldn’t help but be aware of Joel’s presence beside you.

As you walked, you noticed something strange. Joel, who had been rubbing his temples and wincing in pain earlier, seemed to be a bit more at ease. The tight lines of pain on his face had softened, and he wasn’t clutching his head like he usually did.

You didn’t want to think too much about it, but you couldn’t help but wonder if your presence had something to do with it.

Joel, too, was aware of the change. He had been bracing himself for another wave of pain, expecting the migraine to hit hard as it had been for days now. But instead, he felt… better. The pain was still there, lurking in the background, but it was muted, manageable. And the only thing that had changed was that you were with him.

As you continued walking, the strange shift in the atmosphere didn’t go unnoticed. Joel glanced at you every now and then, his brow furrowing slightly, as if he was trying to figure out what had changed. You kept your focus straight ahead, but the weight of the unspoken tension between you two was hard to ignore.

After a while, you slowed down and finally came to a stop, gesturing for Joel to halt as well. Without saying anything, you walked over to your horse and untied a small bouquet of flowers that had been carefully wrapped and secured to the saddle.

Joel watched, puzzled, as you held the bouquet tightly in your hand. "Just... just wait for me here for a bit," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. There was a softness to your tone that caught Joel off guard, and he nodded, sensing that whatever you were about to do was important.

You walked a short distance off the path, through the dense trees and underbrush, until you reached a small clearing. The air was still, and the only sound was the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze.

Joel stayed where he was, leaning against his horse, but his eyes followed you, curiosity and concern mingling in his expression.

In the clearing, you knelt down beside a small, unmarked grave, the earth slightly raised from where you had buried your boyfriend two years ago.

You placed the bouquet gently on the grave, your fingers lingering for a moment on the petals. Your heart ached with the familiar pang of loss, the pain of carrying love for someone who was no longer here. It was a pain you had learned to carry with you, but it never really went away.

As you knelt there, a few silent tears slipped down your cheeks, and you quickly wiped them away. This was a private moment, one you hadn’t shared with anyone, not even Joel. He had no idea about the depth of your loss, about the man you had loved and lost before arriving in Jackson.

When you finally stood up and turned back toward the path, Joel was still waiting, his expression unreadable. You walked back to him in silence, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice soft as his eyes studied your expression.

You didn’t answer right away, your fingers brushing lightly against your jacket. Finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "This is where I buried him. My fiancé."

Joel’s heart sank as he remembered the voice of Tommy telling him some things he didn’t even remember about you. And now seeing you here, in this quiet, sacred place, made the weight of your grief all the more real.

"I didn’t know," Joel said, his voice laced with regret. He felt a pang of guilt for not being there for you when you had gone through this, for not understanding just how much you had carried with you all this time. "I’m sorry."

You nodded slowly, still staring at the grave. "It’s been a long time since I’ve come here. I didn’t think I’d be able to handle it, but… I guess I needed to say goodbye again. Properly."

Joel stepped closer, his presence a comforting warmth at your side. He didn’t know what to say, but he knew he needed to be there, to offer whatever solace he could.

"He was a good man," you continued, your voice stronger now. "He was kind, patient, everything I could have asked for. But this world… it takes everything good and leaves you with nothing but memories."

Joel clenched his jaw, feeling the familiar ache of loss that never truly went away. He knew all too well the pain of losing someone you loved, the emptiness that followed, the way it changed you forever.

"He deserved better," you said, your voice cracking slightly. "He deserved a future, a life. But instead… he got this."

Joel rested his hand gently on your shoulder. "I’m sorry," he repeated, the words feeling inadequate but all he could offer.

But instead of finding solace in his touch, you flinched, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once. The grief, the anger, the overwhelming sense of loss—it all came flooding back, and you couldn’t handle it, not right now.

“Don’t touch me, okay?” you said, your voice trembling as you pulled away from him, putting a small but significant distance between you. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you needed space, needed to breathe without feeling like you were suffocating under the weight of your emotions.

Joel froze, his hand lingering in the air for a moment before he slowly lowered it, the rejection hitting him harder than he expected. He swallowed, trying to push down the rising tide of guilt and pain that your words had stirred up.

“Okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He knew better than to push, knew that you needed time to process everything on your own. But it didn’t stop the sting of your words from cutting deep, reminding him of all the ways he had failed before, all the ways he had let the people he cared about slip through his fingers.

“Peter was the only man who deserved my love,” you said, your voice laced with a mix of bitterness and sorrow. The truth of it stung, cutting through the air like a blade. You didn’t mean to be cruel, but the words slipped out before you could stop them, a reflection of the turmoil swirling inside you.

Joel swallowed hard, the hurt in his eyes evident as he processed what you had just said. He knew you were grieving, that you were speaking from a place of pain, but it didn’t make the words any easier to hear. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond, his mind reeling from the sudden shift between you.

“I get it,” he finally said, his voice tight with emotion. “You loved him. And he was… he was a good man. Better than me.”

He looked away, unable to meet your gaze, feeling the weight of his own inadequacies bearing down on him.

 “Yes, he was” you said without a doubt. “And that killed him.”

Joel’s heart clenched at your words, the blunt truth of them landing like a blow. He kept his eyes fixed on the ground, the weight of your statement pressing down on him. The silence between you grew thicker, charged with the grief and anger that neither of you could fully express.

“He and I had a kid” you confessed, you heart clenched at the memory of that little boy you took care of for five years of your life.

Joel’s head snapped up at your confession, his eyes widening in shock. The weight of what you had just revealed hit him hard, leaving him momentarily speechless.

“He and I… we had a kid,” you repeated, your voice trembling as you forced the words out. Your heart ached at the memory of the little boy you had taken care of, loved, for five years of your life. The pain of losing him, of losing the family you had built, was still fresh, a wound that hadn’t even begun to heal.

Joel’s expression softened, the anger and frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface giving way to something deeper—compassion, understanding, and an overwhelming sense of sorrow for everything you had lost. He could see the pain etched into your features, the way your shoulders slumped under the weight of your grief, and it broke something inside him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He didn’t know what else to say.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away, not wanting to break down in front of him. “His name was Sam,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “He was just a baby when we found him, abandoned… we took him in, raised him as our own. And then, one day” you sobbed, “They killed him…Those fucking soldiers killed him.”

“Peter and I had planned on how leaving all behind, he had hear about Jackson from a friend, and then he trusted the wrong people.”

Joel’s breath caught in his throat as he listened to you, the horror and anguish in your voice cutting through him like a knife. He could see the pain etched deeply into your features, the way your body trembled with the force of your grief. The image of what you had endured—losing not just your partner but the child you had raised together, taken away in such a cruel and senseless way—was almost too much to bear.

“They killed him,” you repeated, your voice thick with emotion as tears streamed down your face. “They took everything from me… from us. We just wanted to be safe, to give him a life that meant something. But those soldiers… they didn’t care. They saw us as a threat, as nothing more than collateral damage.”

Joel’s fists clenched at his sides, anger surging through him at the thought of what had been done to you and your family. He knew the kind of world you were living in, where trust was a dangerous thing, and hope could be ripped away in an instant. But knowing it didn’t make it any easier to accept.

“I’m so sorry,” Joel murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He wanted to say more, to find the right words to ease your pain, but everything felt inadequate in the face of such a profound loss.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as you continued. “Peter and I… we had it all planned out. We were going to leave everything behind, start over in Jackson. He had heard about it from a friend, and it seemed like the only chance we had. But… he trusted the wrong people.”

Your voice broke again, the sobs coming harder now as you relived the nightmare. “They promised us safe passage, said they’d get us out. But it was a trap. They turned us over to the soldiers, and Sam… he didn’t stand a chance. He was just a little boy. He didn’t even know what was happening…”

Joel felt a lump in his throat, his own emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he watched you unravel before him.

Without thinking, Joel stepped closer, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly against him. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to offer empty words of consolation. He just held you, letting you cry against his chest, his hand gently stroking your back in an attempt to soothe you.

The world had gone eerily quiet after the gunfire ceased, the only sounds left were your ragged breaths and the distant cries of crows circling overhead. You could still feel the heat from Peter’s body fading beneath your hands, his blood soaking into the earth beneath him. The image of his lifeless eyes, staring blankly up at the sky, was seared into your mind, a horrific reminder that he was gone, that the man you loved, the father of your child, was never coming back.

You had been too stunned to cry, too numb to feel anything beyond the cold realization that you were alone.

Hours seemed to pass in a blur before you finally forced yourself to move. You couldn’t stay there, not with Peter’s body cooling beside you, not with the knowledge that those men might come back to finish what they started. So, you rose on shaky legs, your heart pounding in your chest, and stumbled away from the scene of the massacre, your mind numb as you left him behind.

The sun had begun to set by the time you found the old cabin, hidden deep within the woods. It was small, decrepit, with broken windows and a door that hung askew on its hinges, but it was shelter, and that was all that mattered. You pushed open the door and stepped inside, the musty smell of decay filling your nostrils as you surveyed the dark, empty space.

It felt wrong to be alive, to still be breathing when Peter wasn’t, when Sam wasn’t. But survival was instinctual, and something inside you kept pushing you forward, kept you searching for a way to stay alive, even when all you wanted was to curl up and disappear.

You sank to the floor, your back pressed against the rough wooden wall as the tears finally began to fall. They came slowly at first, like a trickle, but soon they turned into gut-wrenching sobs that echoed through the empty cabin. You clutched your knees to your chest, rocking back and forth as the storm outside began to roll in.

The wind picked up, howling through the trees and rattling the cabin’s fragile walls. Rain began to pour in heavy sheets, drumming against the roof and leaking through the cracks, pooling on the floor around you. Lightning flashed, illuminating the dark interior in brief, blinding bursts, and the thunder that followed was so loud it shook the very foundation of the cabin.

You were alone for the first time in years, truly, devastatingly alone. The weight of that realization crushed you, making it hard to breathe, hard to think of anything other than the emptiness that stretched out before you. The storm outside mirrored the chaos inside you, the violence of it a reflection of the torment that raged in your heart.

Maria and a group of people found you two days later

And you had become terrified of storms ever since.  

You stiffened in Joel’s arms, the overwhelming flood of emotions too much. You couldn’t let yourself be comforted, couldn’t let someone else get close, not after everything you’d lost. The fear of opening up, of allowing yourself to be vulnerable again, was suffocating.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you stepped back, pulling away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

Joel’s arms fell to his sides, the rejection clear in his eyes as he took a step back, giving you the space you needed. The hurt in his expression was evident, but he didn’t push, didn’t try to reach out for you again.

“You just feel pity because you see me as a broken doll” you said.

Joel’s expression tightened, his brow furrowing as your words cut through the air like a knife. He opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, clearly struggling with how to convey what he was feeling. The accusation hung between you, heavy and bitter, and the silence that followed felt suffocating.

“I don’t—” Joel started, his voice low and rough. He took a breath, trying to gather his thoughts, but the hurt in his eyes was unmistakable. “I don’t see you that way.”

“Then why are you here, Joel?” you demanded, your voice rising with the pent-up frustration and pain. “Why are you trying so hard to be… whatever this is? You didn’t care before, but now you do because I’m broken?”

“How were you so sweet to everyone after what happened?” he finally asked, his voice tinged with a mix of confusion and a hint of disbelief. It was as if he couldn’t comprehend how you managed to keep going, how you could still find kindness within you after everything you’d endured.

You looked at him, your expression softened by the lingering sadness, but there was a strength behind your eyes, a resilience that had kept you moving forward. “Because I didn’t lose them because of you all,” you said quietly, your voice steady despite the pain that laced your words. “I wasn’t going to become angry at the people who gave me another chance.”

The truth of your statement hung in the air, a stark contrast to the turmoil you felt inside. You had chosen to protect the small bit of humanity you had left, to hold onto the kindness that others had shown you when you needed it most. But that didn’t mean the anger, the grief, or the pain had disappeared—it was still there, buried deep, threatening to consume you if you let it.

Joel looked down, his shoulders sagging slightly as he absorbed what you said. He understood the weight of guilt, the way it could twist inside you, making you question everything. He had carried his own burden of guilt for years, but hearing you speak those words, seeing the strength it took for you to hold onto the good in the face of so much loss, it humbled him.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, the words barely above a whisper. “I wish I could take it all back, change what happened. What I did to you and how I treated you the morning you woke up in my bed” he sighed, “Sorry for not remember what happened between us”

You looked at him, your eyes filled with a quiet, resigned sadness. “It doesn’t change anything, Joel. It’s done. I can’t change the past either.”

Joel’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling heavily on him. The finality in your voice, the distance between you, made him feel even more lost, and he turned away, the ache of regret and loss deepening with each step he took.

Joel walked away, his steps heavy and deliberate. The weight of your words hung over him, a constant reminder of the things he couldn’t change, the pain he had caused. Each step felt like a step further from any hope of repairing what had been broken.

You watched him go, the solitude of the moment pressing in around you. The quiet was suffocating, filled with the echoes of the past and the weight of unspoken words. You turned back toward the grave, the memories of what you had lost mingling with the present pain.

A simple affair, torturing you.

+

Grieving the death and grieving the living were taking a tool on you.

Week four

A week had passed since that tense confrontation. The days had been a blur of activity and emotional exhaustion, the storm within you a constant companion. The quiet conversations with others and the daily routines in Jackson offered little distraction from the lingering sadness, but they kept you moving forward, one step at a time.

Everyone could say than a simply affair would dissipate with the time, that each week would make you unlove Joel, but you couldn’t take a complete distance from your lingering feelings.

And Joel? Joel had kept his distance, following your request for space. His presence was felt in the background, a reminder of the unresolved tension and the feelings that had been left hanging in the air. You had seen him around, in passing, but there was an unspoken agreement that he would not intrude upon your space.

He couldn’t bear to face you.

One morning, as you prepared for another day at the infirmary due to Tommy’s request, you found yourself in the familiar surroundings of the clinic. The routine was a small comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions. The soft hum of medical equipment and the scent of antiseptic filled the air, offering a sense of order and control.

As you were organizing supplies and checking on your patients, a familiar voice broke through the calm. “Hey.”

You looked up from your tasks to see Joel standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of hesitation and resolve. He seemed slightly out of place in the clinical setting, but there was a determined look in his eyes.

“Joel,” you greeted, your voice steady but tinged with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Joel took a step inside, his gaze scanning the room before settling on you.

“I’ve been trying to find the right time to give this to you,” Joel said, his voice a bit rough, as if he was struggling to find the right words.

Curiosity mingled with the apprehension you felt. “What is it?”

Joel took a deep breath, stepping closer but still maintaining a respectful distance. “It’s a little something I thought might help. I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I wanted to offer it to you anyway.”

You hesitated for a moment before reaching out to take the package from him. It was small and wrapped simply, the gesture surprisingly thoughtful given the circumstances. You carefully unwrapped it, revealing a worn leather-bound journal. The cover was embossed with a delicate pattern, and as you opened it, you found pages filled with blank lines, waiting for your thoughts and feelings.

“You can write on it,” Joel said softly. “And I thought maybe, if you wanted to, this could be a place for you to put everything that’s been on your mind. It’s not much, but I thought it might help.”

The gesture was unexpected, and as you looked up at Joel, you could see the genuine care in his eyes. It was a small attempt to bridge the gap between you, to offer something meaningful despite the unresolved pain.

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of gratitude and sadness. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice almost choked with emotion. “It’s… thoughtful.”

Joel nodded, a small, almost relieved smile touching his lips. “I hope it helps, even just a little.”

There was a moment of silence between you, the weight of the past week settling in the air. Joel’s eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of the connection that had once been there, while you felt the tug of conflicting emotions—appreciation for the gesture, but also the lingering pain of his actions.

“How are your migraines doing?” You asked.

Joel looked slightly taken aback by your question, the personal nature of it a stark contrast to the more distant conversation that had been unfolding. He studied your face for a moment, perhaps surprised by your concern.

“They’re getting worse every day,” he admitted, his voice carrying a weight of weariness. “But today, I’m feeling a bit better. It’s been rough, though. The migraines have been relentless.”

You felt a rush of blood to your cheeks, concern and embarrassment at the question. “Tommy mentioned it,” you said quickly, wanting to clarify your source of information. “I just—well, I wanted to know how you’re doing.”

Joel nodded, his eyes softening slightly. “Thanks for asking. It means a lot. It’s been tough, but I’m managing.”

The vulnerability in his admission made you feel a pang of empathy. It was hard to see him struggling, especially when you had your own unresolved feelings and painful memories.

“Well, I’m glad you’re having a better moment today,” you said, your voice steadying as you tried to offer some comfort.

Joel’s expression grew more thoughtful, and he gave a small, appreciative smile. “Yeah, I’m holding onto that. Thanks for checking in.”

The silence between you was charged with unspoken emotions. You both stood there, the weight of your recent conversations lingering in the air. Joel looked like he was about to say something else, but instead, he gave a nod and started to walk away.

“Take care,” you called after him, the words carrying a genuine warmth despite the emotional distance that remained between you.

You had settled onto a barstool, a glass of whiskey in hand. The amber liquid was smooth and comforting, its warmth spreading through you as you took a sip. The effects of the alcohol were starting to take hold, making everything feel just a little more relaxed, a little more bearable.

Joel was at the bar, nursing a drink of his own. He hadn’t been particularly social that night, just sitting in his usual spot, lost in his thoughts. As the evening wore on and you became tipsier, you found yourself drawn to him, the comfort of familiarity outweighing the shyness that normally kept you at a distance.

You slid off your stool and made your way over to Joel, the room spinning slightly as you approached him. “Hey,” you said, your voice a bit louder than intended, carrying the cheerful buzz of someone who’d had a few too many drinks. “Mind if I join you?”

Joel looked up from his glass, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Sure, have a seat,” he replied, gesturing to the empty stool next to him.

You plopped down beside him, the warmth of his presence surprisingly comforting. “You know,” you said, leaning in slightly and grinning, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here this early before. You’re usually so… serious.”

Joel chuckled softly, the sound of a low rumble that was both soothing and grounding. “Yeah, I guess I am. Just needed a drink tonight.”

In the afternoon, the usually calm atmosphere of the infirmary was disrupted by the sound of the door swinging open with a sense of urgency. Joel stumbled inside, his face pale and etched with pain. He moved slowly, his usual steady gait faltering under the weight of his unbearable migraines.

You looked up from your work, your heart sinking at the sight of him. He was clearly in distress, his eyes squeezed shut as if trying to shut out the world. You quickly set aside what you were doing and hurried over to him.

“What do you want?” you asked, intending to sound too rude.

“I—” Joel started, but the words were interrupted by a sharp grimace of pain. “I can’t take it anymore. The migraines… they’re just too much.”

“From one to ten? How much is the pain?” you asked.

“What’s that bullshit?” He cried out.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your own frustration in check. Despite the roughness of Joel’s response, you could see that he was in genuine distress, and you needed to get a handle on his pain level to help him effectively.

“It’s just a way to measure how bad the pain is,” you explained, your voice firm but compassionate. “On a scale from one to ten, where one is no pain and ten is the worst pain, you’ve ever felt, where are you right now?”

Joel clenched his teeth, his face twisted with agony as he tried to focus. “It’s… it’s an eight,” he finally managed to say through gritted teeth.

He had saved that ten.

 The ten was the amount of pain he had when he lost Sarah.

A ten was the pain his heart felt when he looked at you from the distance.

You nodded, quickly assessing the situation. “Alright, I’m going to get you something stronger for the pain. Try to sit down and breathe slowly. I’ll be right back.”

As you hurried to prepare a stronger medication, you felt the weight of the past few weeks pressing heavily on you. The bitterness in your words and his pain seemed to intertwine, creating a tense atmosphere that was hard to ignore. But your focus remained on getting Joel the relief he needed.

You quickly gathered the necessary medication and made your way back to Joel, who had seated himself on one of the examination tables. As you approached, you noticed his breathing was uneven, and his eyes were squeezed shut as if he was trying to block out the pain and your presence.

"Let me check your head," you said softly, your voice gentle despite the tension that hung between you. "I need to make sure there's nothing else going on."

Joel nodded slightly, his face still contorted in discomfort. As you leaned in to examine his head, your proximity made his breath catch in his lungs. The closeness between you seemed to amplify the charged atmosphere, making the air around you feel heavy.

You carefully placed your hands on his temples, your touch light but firm as you assessed his condition. Joel's breath became shallow and uneven, a sign that he was acutely aware of your closeness. He tensed under your touch, the intensity of his pain mixed with the vulnerability of the moment.

"How's that feel?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you moved your fingers over his forehead and the sides of his head.

Joel swallowed hard, his eyes still closed as he tried to focus on your touch rather than the pain. "Feels… a bit better," he managed to say, though his voice was strained. "Just… don’t know if I can handle this much longer."

You gave a reassuring nod, trying to offer comfort despite the lingering tension. "You're doing great. The medication should help soon. Just hang in there a little longer."

You both could feel your breathing mingling together, the agony of the closeness taking everything from you.

Joel closed his eyes for a bit, feeling you scent and your fingertips on his temples. In the haze of his agony, there were fleeting glimpses of a night that felt both distant and achingly familiar. He remembered the warmth of your touch, the softness of your lips against his. The kiss you had shared the night before he got his memory back began to resurface, bringing with it a surge of emotions he had long tried to bury.

The kiss had been tender. Joel could almost feel the echo of that moment now, a soft, lingering taste of intimacy that was both comforting and heartbreaking.

He remembered the way you had looked at him, the way your eyes had softened with unspoken words. The image of your face, so close to his, the way you had smiled before the kiss, replayed in his mind with a clarity that cut through the pain. It was as if your closeness was pulling these memories to the surface, forcing him to confront them once more.

Joel’s breath caught as he recalled the warmth of your lips, the way it had felt to hold you close. It was a vivid contrast to the overwhelming pain he was experiencing now, and it made him realize just how much he had missed and lost. The memory of that kiss, the feeling of being connected to you, made his heart ache with a mix of longing and regret.

He let out a slow, shaky breath, trying to ground himself in the present while the memories swirled around him. As much as the past few weeks had been a struggle, this moment of closeness with you was stirring up feelings he had tried to keep buried. Joel’s eyes opened slightly, looking at you with a vulnerability that he hadn’t shown before.

“Sun…” he started, his voice barely above a whisper.

The sound of "Sun" coming from his lips felt almost foreign, yet deeply familiar. It was a term of endearment he had used before his memory loss, one that had held a special place between you two.

“Sun…” he repeated, the word carrying tenderness and longing.

Your heart skipped a beat, the nickname a bittersweet reminder of the bond you had shared. It was a small yet significant piece of the past surfacing, offering a glimmer of connection despite everything that had happened.

You felt a rush of conflicting emotions, the glimmer of hope mingling with a deep-seated fear of revisiting old wounds. The nickname, the touch, the faint echo of past affection—it all stirred up feelings you weren't sure you were ready to confront.

Taking a steadying breath, you stepped back, your hand moving quickly to hand him the medication. “Here,” you said, your voice steady as you handed him the small packet of pills. “This should help with the pain. You should head home and rest.”

Joel looked up at you, a flicker of understanding and disappointment in his eyes. He could sense the shift in your demeanor, the way you were putting distance between you both. “You sure you don’t need any help?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You shook your head, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “No, I’m fine. Just… please, go home. A storm is coming, and you should get back before it hits.”

Joel hesitated for a moment longer, but the look in your eyes told him that you needed space, that pushing further would only cause more pain. With a reluctant nod, he took the medication and turned to leave, his steps heavy with the weight of what was left unsaid.

As he walked out of the infirmary, you watched him go, the storm outside a stark parallel to the storm brewing inside you. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to steady yourself against the wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. The fleeting connection, the memories stirred up—it was all too much to handle right now.

You were a bit tipsy, the effects of the whiskey making your steps a little unsteady. Joel walked beside you, his presence a steady anchor amidst the haze of your inebriation. You were both quiet, the conversation from the bar having dwindled into comfortable silence.

As you approached your house, you turned to him, a small, tipsy smile playing on your lips. The intimacy of the evening and the warmth of his proximity were too comforting to ignore. Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against his lips. The action was impulsive, driven by a mix of affection and the blurred boundaries of alcohol.

Joel's reaction was immediate. He responded to the kiss, his arms finding their way around you as he deepened the connection. There was a brief moment where the world seemed to hold its breath, the kiss a sweet and tender promise of something more.

When you finally pulled back, your faces were flushed, and you looked at him with a mixture of uncertainty and contentment. Joel’s eyes were filled with a mix of surprise and warmth, the kiss having ignited something within him that he hadn’t anticipated.

“Good night, Joel,” you murmured, your voice soft and slightly slurred as you turned to go inside.

Joel watched you enter your house, his thoughts swirling in the wake of the kiss. He felt a strange blend of hope and confusion, uncertain about what the kiss meant for both of you. But the feelings were there, undeniable and strong.

The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow in your bedroom. You woke up with a throbbing headache, the remnants of last night a blurry haze. As you shuffled through your routine, the details of the previous evening remained frustratingly out of reach. The bar, the tipsy laughter, Joel walking you home—these were fragments, but the kiss itself was a complete blank.

When you encountered Joel later that day, you greeted him cheerfully, assuming nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “Hey, Joel. How’s it going?”

Joel’s response was curt, his eyes avoiding yours. “Hey. I’m alright.”

You noticed the shift in his demeanor, the coldness in his tone. It was as if he was keeping you at arm's length, his usual warmth replaced with a frigid distance. You tried to brush it off, attributing it to a possible bad mood or personal issue.

Joel had resolved never to bring up the kiss, his feelings of hurt and confusion simmering beneath the surface. He’d come to see the incident as a miscommunication, a misunderstanding that he’d decided to keep buried rather than confront. The bitterness of feeling forgotten and dismissed had solidified into a quiet, unspoken rift between you.

Joel found himself unable to shake the feeling of the day's events. The migraine had ebbed slightly during the patrol, but as soon as he was back in his house, the pain returned, gnawing at him with a persistent, dull ache.

The house was quiet, save for the steady patter of rain against the windows. The storm outside was fierce, the wind howling and the rain pouring down in relentless sheets. Joel’s mood matched the tempest outside—stormy, unsettled.

As he was trying to organize his gear and get ready for bed, his eyes fell upon something on a chair near the door. It was the blouse you had lost that morning when he pushed you away from him, a soft, familiar fabric that he recognized immediately. He picked it up, holding it gently, and his mind replayed that morning events.

Joel held the blouse up to his face, breathing in deeply. The scent was faint but unmistakable—a mix of the outdoors, a hint of your perfume, and something more personal, something that reminded him of you. As the scent reached his senses, it hit him with a wave of emotions he hadn’t fully processed until now. He felt a rush of regret and longing. The migraine that had been a constant presence in his head now seemed to fade slightly as he held the blouse. The emotional weight of his actions, the pain he had caused you, and the gulf that had grown between you all came rushing back

You sat in the dimly lit living room of your small house, wrapped in a blanket, trying to find some semblance of comfort amidst the chaos outside. The storm had intensified, the wind howling and the rain slashing against the windows with a ferocity that made the walls tremble. Every rumble of thunder and flash of lightning felt like a jolt to your already frayed nerves.

You tried to focus on something—anything—to distract yourself from the fear that had settled deep in your chest. The living room was sparsely decorated, the bare walls and simple furnishings reflecting the practical, no-frills life you had tried to build for yourself. But tonight, it all seemed cold and empty, unable to offer you the comfort you so desperately needed.

You glanced at the clock. It was well past midnight, and sleep was elusive. The noise of the storm outside seemed to drown out any thoughts of rest. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, trying to stave off the chill that had little to do with the temperature and everything to do with the lonely feeling that had enveloped you.

As you huddled on the couch, the flashes of lightning illuminated the room in brief, stark bursts. Each flash cast eerie shadows on the walls, making the storm outside feel even more menacing. You found yourself jumping at every crack of thunder, your heart racing with each one.

Part of you wanted to reach out to someone, but who? The distance between you and Joel felt insurmountable, and you had made it clear that you wanted to be left alone.

The living room was filled with the sound of the storm, punctuated only by your occasional sighs and the rustling of the blanket around you. You tried to focus on breathing deeply, calming yourself in the midst of the chaos. But as the storm raged on, so did the turmoil within you.

It was during a particularly intense flash of lightning that you heard a knock on the door. Your heart leaped into your throat, and you froze. Another knock, louder this time, followed by a faint call. “It’s Joel. Can I come in?”

The voice was muffled by the storm, but it was unmistakable. Your emotions were a whirlwind of confusion and surprise. You hesitated, wondering why he would come here, why he would seek you out now, but the desperation in his voice made you move towards the door.

You opened it cautiously, the cold wind rushing in and mingling with the warmth of the living room. Joel stood there, drenched from the rain, his face lined with worry and a mixture of other emotions that you couldn’t quite place.

“Joel,” you said, barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

He looked at you with an expression that was a mix of regret, concern, and something softer that you couldn’t quite define.

Words weren’t need for moments like these. Two hearts beating as the silence felt like freedom of the remised prisoner love victim of the passage of time, the destiny or perhaps the fate of cursing spells.

It was there for you to see it and it was there for him to see it, but blindness was his curse. Not remembering was his curse. Joel wasn’t incapable of loving someone, but he was terrified of the pieces of the old him coming to the present where losing people was a daily occurrence.

Joel was terrified of loving and losing the last flame of goodness left in this mad world that had tainted people, but you. There was a pure innocence in your eyes, in your actions and in your kindness and he had come to face his old him through you, the old him that had died with his daughter years ago.

Joel’s gaze lingered on you, his eyes reflecting the soft light from the flickering candles. His voice was a murmur, almost lost in the howling of the storm outside. “You’re afraid of storms.”, he said quietly, his voice low and gentle. It wasn’t a question. He was stating a fact, something you had confessed to him when the love affair between you was burning. 

You looked at him, the realization dawning on you like the slow break of dawn. “You remember.” You whispered.

And you could only hear the steady beat of your own heart and the sound of Joel’s breathing.

I tagged everyone interested in part 2 but I couldn't tag everyone because all got mixed () if you don't want to be tagged you can tell me, if you want to be tagged, you can also tell me

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my world | psh

pairing: sunghoon x fem!reader  genres: angst, smut, fluff wc: 14.3k+

꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ : alcohol consumption, swearing, unprotected sex (do it safely), cumming inside, arguing, Sunghoon is completely surrendered to yn. sorry, i can't see him if not cute in this story, this man needs to be taken care of. lmk if i forgot anything else.

꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : you're back and you owe Sunghoon an explanation for your departure, but it looks like it's going to be a bit tricky to get him to listen to you.

꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : after so many requests i've come up with the second part, and possibly the final one because i can't think of a continuation after that. it took me a long time because i had a huge blockage and i don't know if i'm satisfied with what came out of here, but i just wanted to give these two a cosy feel. and for you who read my work. i hope you like it!

TAGLIST: this isn't necessarily a taglist, but i decided to tag the people who asked for part two of the story, so… @seunghancore @sunghoonizz @indigoez @heestarry @yunjinhuhjennifer @pollito-sims4 @srhnyx @enhalusional @moon368 @madustos @capri-cuntz @stellanam @flaminghotyourmom @jayshadoww @sovlidago @randommmmmmvheusbs @rjssierjrie @rikiversesworld @lovingvoidgoatee

꒰ 𝅄 part 1 | masterlist ꒱

Avoiding work on Friday nights was one of the first things Sunghoon did after you left. He didn't want to deal with the fact that that particular day was when he found you sitting at one of the tables in his bar with Stella, waiting for his and Jay's shift to finish so you could all drink together.

Now nothing else made sense, and those nights were filled with his bed, a cosy blanket and your mind wandering back to the last night you and he spent together. Sunghoon could feel the touch of your fingers on his skin, the way his name was whispered by you. It felt like an endless melody. Sleeping next to him had a different meaning after so long friendship.

But then the bitter taste of disappointment invaded him with the same intensity. Less than twenty-four hours after you told him you were in love, Sunghoon read the worst letter he could have read in his entire life. He had always wanted to travel and get to know countries, but suddenly he had a grudge against Switzerland because he knew that's where you were apparently staying. Why so far away? Why did you have to go somewhere with no explanation? A letter wasn't enough because it only said what he already knew: it had all been your father's plan. Sunghoon knew how much he controlled your life, but the thought of him causing it all made the boy's blood boil.

"Fuck everything" was what Sunghoon repeated most often every time he remembered something related to you.

How he remembered the first day he saw you at university, or how he heard you call him and greet him every time you met. He remembers every moment you were by his side, with your arms entwined or your head resting on his shoulder.

It was hard to forget every little moment when you and he almost kissed when you were drunk. Faces millimeters apart, heart racing and breathless… But then the day in your flat made it all worthwhile. While he was between your legs, kissing you with all the love he'd ever felt and fucking you on your kitchen worktop. Sunghoon could repeat that day a million times over, even though afterward you went and left him the next day. It was the one thing he didn't want to go through.

"You need to snap out of it, man" Jay threw himself on the sofa in Sunghoon's flat, sitting next to him on Saturday night. At times he was the only one who managed to make his friend feel a little better as they talked.

"How?" Sunghoon hugged the cushion, snuggling further into the sofa and staring at the television. He felt Jay's gaze on him as he listened to his friend talk again.

“I don't know, we—” Jay paused for a moment, sliding his body across the leather of the soft sofa and sighing loudly “How about we go out for a while? Just the boys.”

“I think I'd rather stay in my apartment for the next few years” Sunghoon replied.

Jay sighed again, reaching up and snatching the pillow from Sunghoon's lap. He scrambled up, wanting to take back the one thing he was hugging for comfort at the moment.

That's when he saw his friend's face in pure concern, but with something else that he couldn't decipher. Jay was serious most of the time, no one knew what he was feeling – apart from Stella – but Sunghoon knew his best friend so well that he could tell something was wrong.

“Jay” he called out, seeing that Jay was swallowing and straightening up on the sofa.

“Right, I can't lie” Jay closed his eyes ”I need to get you out of the house today and take you to a club on the other side of town.”

It was Sunghoon's turn to turn from curious to confused. What was Jay talking about, anyway? And why did he have to take him to the other side of town today? They worked in a bar, not quite a club, but pretty much the same thing: loud music, drinking and lots of people. Why go to a place that would be practically the same as his work environment?

“Why?” he asked Jay.

The older man was debating whether to say something so direct or simply make up an excuse to drag Sunghoon along. But Jay couldn't lie like he had said, it was almost impossible not to tell the truth to the eyes that stared at him so expectantly.

“Because Stella's taking Y/n there too” he said ”She's back, man.”

A ringing sound passed through Sunghoon's ears, as if the sound pierced his eardrums and he felt an extremely strong pressure in his head. Grateful to be sitting down and knowing that he would get this reaction, Jay was already getting him something to drink from the coffee table. Even though Sunghoon couldn't swallow anything or move, at least Jay was trying.

“Jay, stop fooling around.”

“I swear to God” he whined ”I found out today, Stella didn't want to tell me anything and just asked me to get you out of the house.”

“Why?” Sunghoon stared at a fixed point in the room, everything he was hearing seeming like a dream.

“I know as much as you do” Jay touched Sunghoon's shoulder, making him finally face his best friend ”It seems that only Stella and Alicia know that she's back, no one else. And a lot is going on that not even my girlfriend, Y/n's best friend, knows about.”

Sunghoon debated for a moment whether he should go to where Jay wanted to take him, because things were getting more and more confusing.

You went away and said goodbye in a letter, then you came back and only your two best friends know. At least about your return, because something is going on that even Stella doesn't know about, according to what Jay is saying. So… What was your father up to? That was the thought Sunghoon had as he forced his legs to get up from the sofa, resting his hands on the seat and standing in the middle of the room.

He didn't want to hope for anything at all, and he didn't know what your reaction would be, or even his own, seeing you so many months after your departure. Without exchanging a message, a single phone call. How would you see him afterwards? How would he treat you when he saw you face to face?

“I'm just going to take a shower” Sunghoon sighed ”I hope this doesn't go to shit, Jongseong.”

“Don't call me that” Jay pouted, which was ignored by Sunghoon as he headed for his room to shower and get ready.

Jay also hoped it wouldn't go to shit because no one knew what would happen. But he and Stella hoped that you and Sunghoon would at least talk.

If it weren't for the primal tension between your meeting with Sunghoon, Jay could easily say that he was the most nervous in that entire club. Firstly because his girlfriend trusted him enough to ask Sunghoon to leave the house, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get his best friend out so easily. So telling the truth had been the best course of action. That was why he was walking through the door of that club, the colored lights spinning back and forth and the loud sound almost piercing his insides.

He kept repeating to himself a mantra that things could go smoothly if Stella had already poured you and Alicia some drinks, while he walked in with Sunghoon and Jake. The latter was trying his best to get Sunghoon to walk around people and not turn around and go home. They both knew he could do this at any moment, so Jay led the way into the bar while keeping Sunghoon in the middle and Jake behind in case the other wanted to leave without being seen.

None of them could imagine what it was like for Sunghoon to deal with all of this, although Jay and Jake were just as curious to know what was behind everything that was happening.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon was going over in his mind what he would say to you when he saw you in the first place. Say hello and run off? Or just wave and smile as he went to the bar and got drunk? Maybe he'd do the latter – and the one that was most recommended – because he felt like he might pass out at any moment.

“Right” Jay stopped walking for a moment, turning around and almost slamming his body into Sunghoon, who stopped walking abruptly. But that didn't stop Jake from tripping and slamming into his friend, muttering curses and standing next to the taller man “Let's get a drink before we meet them.”

“I can hang around the bar and you two go find your girlfriends” Sunghoon wanted to get out of there right away and would try anything to make that happen.

“You come with us, wise guy” Jake took him by the shoulders and led him to the bar.

Ordering strong drinks wasn't a big deal for three people who owned a very trendy bar on the other side of town. This could even inspire new drinks at the establishment, Jay thought as he saw colorful liquids and completely different names on the menu. Something that pleased even the palates of the three who sat at the bar and drank three glasses in a row.

Every minute in that bar seemed like an eternity and the fact that Sunghoon didn't want to face the reality that, almost certainly, he was in the same environment as you after such a long time. It wasn't as if he knew how to act because even though he was your friend and had been hiding the fact that he was in love with you for years, he had never gone so long without seeing you. And even less had something so intimate happened that you left without giving any explanation.

“Stella's calling” Jay picked up his cell phone after a long time talking to Sunghoon and Jake, trying to find the courage to get out of there too and pretend that they were randomly in the same club.

He picked it up and chatted very quickly, neither of the other two paying any attention because they were apprehensive about what would happen next.

“Alicia texted me” Jake finished swallowing the drink in his glass ”They're bringing Y/n to the bar.”

“Is it now or never?” Jay tried to smile, knowing that it looked more like a grimace to the two in front of him.

Sunghoon didn't even dare move, leaning against the bar counter as he played with the glass between his fingers. He needed to occupy himself with something other than the fact that he was only a few minutes away from seeing you again. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his mouth and if it hadn't been for the alcohol warming his muscles, he could have sworn he was shaking right now.

“Hey, guys!” Stella's voice had a strange effect on Sunghoon, who cringed and closed his eyes tightly.

“Baby, you over here” Jay lied so badly, Sunghoon could laugh at that awful performance as he heard the kissing sounds of the couple greeting each other. Then it was Jake and Alicia's turn, the same greeting followed until his friends' voices ceased and he concentrated on the only thing that mattered at that moment.

“Y/n? You're back?” Jake was smiling, his tone a little more theatrical than Jay's. Sunghoon knew that he hadn't been the first to greet you because his best friend was so nervous that he could scream and run off with the other Park if it were possible.

“Jake, hey. Yes, I am!” you sounded excited, and cheerful and hadn't seen Sunghoon who was leaning back against the bar. He waved for the barman to fill his glass and as soon as he did, the liquid almost overflowed from the glass between his fingers.

“What are you doing here?” Alicia asked.

Sunghoon took the glass and brought it to his lips, the burning sensation going down his throat was the best in that second when he heard Jay answer.

“We came on a boys' night out. Me, Jake, and Sunghoon” he felt Jay's hand touch the middle of his back. Sunghoon almost spat out his drink out of nervousness, it was time to turn around.

Everything seemed to stop the second he laid eyes on you. Nothing seemed to have changed, except that you were even more beautiful. If that were possible. He pressed his fingers tightly against the body of the drink while keeping his gaze on yours, which, strangely, you held. Nothing on his face seemed to scream astonishment at seeing you there and Sunghoon couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not. He swore he knew you well enough until a few months ago before you left. But after that, he didn't know who Y/n was standing in front of him at that moment.

“Sunghoon” you said his name so gracefully. He almost gave in to all the pressure and the nervous looks among the group of friends staring at the scene before them.

“Y/n” Sunghoon said in the same way, raising his glass and drinking the entire contents in one go.

He suddenly felt his eyes sting because the last time he'd seen you, he'd left your apartment swearing he'd see you at his bar the next night. When he could finally ask you to be his girl, as he had always dreamed. And now here you are, as someone who took his heart to Switzerland and came back without a single explanation.

He saw you open your mouth to say something as the two couples of friends disappeared to the bar to order drinks. Sunghoon swallowed, wanting to turn around and order more alcohol. It was the only thing that could keep him standing there without doing something ridiculous. But he knew that wasn't going to happen.

“We—”

“I need to go to the bathroom” he interrupted you and he didn't know why, or maybe he did, he just didn't want to feel like crying in front of you. Sunghoon had whined enough for months and the pride that engulfed him was enough for him not to do it in front of you.

Not when he'd already had too much to drink and certainly not when you were looking on with so many emotions at once.

Sunghoon hurried off towards the club toilets, stumbling a few times and apologizing to everyone he bumped into. He hadn't meant to do that, to look like a runaway and a lovesick idiot. But he knew he couldn't predict a reaction, not when he had no way of denying that his feelings for you had never gone away.

He wanted to have stopped feeling anything for you, wanted to have turned that hurt and sadness into anger, and moved on. But every time Sunghoon thought he could move on, you appeared in one of his dreams. Or Stella would comment on something nostalgic involving you, making him remember how much he loved you.

It could be a ploy by his friends to never forget you, or that your best friend somehow wanted to keep you in mind because she might know something. Sunghoon knew it was, but he also had no way of confronting Stella and asking her to tell him. He knew that you might have asked for secrecy and he wanted to respect that, but he couldn't help himself because it all came back at once. And that's why he ran to one of the bathroom cubicles and locked himself in, sitting on the toilet and taking a deep breath.

What he wanted most was for you to come back to him, but why was Sunghoon wishing he wasn't around you at that moment? Why so much conflict when all he had to do was get out of that bathroom and talk to you?

“Hey Hoon, it's me, Jake” the boy's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, making Sunghoon get up from the toilet and quickly open the door ”Are you okay?”

A moment of silence and Jake noticed Sunghoon's eyes shining brighter than usual. He knew it could happen and it was understandable why it had happened so quickly.

“You don't have to answer, it's okay, man” he said, slipping one of his arms around Sunghoon's shoulders “What do you say we get drunk until you forget your name?

“I'd love to, but—”

“But just think about the drink, at least she's back. We can think about that later, okay?”

He wanted to believe Jake's words and how they could comfort him, even if he was still nervous. So Sunghoon tried to smile, finding a little strength in the friend next to him who was slowly getting him out of the bathroom.

Doing what Jake had said that night might not be so bad. Drink a lot, talk and think later.

Sunghoon's last memory was of going to the bar with Jake and ordering three more drinks. After that, everything became a blur and now he had the biggest headache in years.

He was like a frat boy waking up the day after a party smelling of booze and with some random girl sleeping next to him. In contrast, Sunghoon smelled of soap, his pajamas were clean and no girl was next to him, but the messy bed indicated that he hadn't slept alone. Or so it seemed.

“What the fuck happened?” he muttered to himself as he groped around the bedside table for his cell phone or something, finding it practically dead.

Now the headache seemed a little worse as Sunghoon got up and sat on the bed, his back against the headboard as he sighed and tried to remember what had happened.

It couldn't be that bad or his friends would already be at the foot of the bed shaking Sunghoon and demanding explanations, so he could calm down a bit and slow down. To thought that things might not have gotten out of hand as he got out of bed and walked around the apartment looking for something that might remind him of the night before. But nothing was out of place, not even a sofa cushion.

He was alone in that place and there wasn't even a piece of clothing or accessory to make him think that someone might be there.

It was then that his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door handle. The key turning outside and the sound of bags on the other side of the door… Jake or Jay was bringing something to cure his hangover and it made Sunghoon breathe a sigh of relief to see that his friends were thinking of him.

But his smile fell when you walked through the door. Not that he didn't want to see you there, but of all the people Sunghoon imagined… You, wearing one of his T-shirts and the pants from the night before, bags hanging from your arms, and your hair loose, was the image he never thought he would see clearly.

“Y/n?” he asked, taking you by surprise when you entered the apartment.

“You're awake!” your smile almost made him shout, but he made do and ran towards you to help you with the bags, quickly picking them up and taking them to the kitchen.

The small silence in the room wasn't awkward, but you seemed a little apprehensive as Sunghoon looked at all the bags, hesitating to look in your direction.

“Feeling better?” you asked as you stopped next to him, opening one of the bags and taking out a packet of coffee and a carton of milk.

“Did you… Did you do any shopping?” he looked at the things you were unpacking, then finally looked at you.

What the fuck, why is she so close? He almost cried at the closeness when he saw you looking up, a shy little smile on your lips as you looked at him.

“I did” you replied ”You need to stock that cupboard and I thought you needed something to eat after last night.”

After last night. Right, how could he say he didn't remember anything, especially that you were in his apartment?

Sunghoon didn't know how to say something like that, especially since you seemed so casual in his kitchen as if you hadn't abandoned him months ago. As if you and he hadn't been apprehensive in each other's presence the night before.

But on the contrary, you seemed quite at ease taking food out of the bag and sorting it on the kitchen worktop. The almost familiar scene of the last time you and he had met, warmed his heart slightly and made Sunghoon feel his chest tighten. Fear and nostalgia washed over him as he watched you casually turn on the coffee machine after putting the supplies away. Every time your gaze crossed his, Sunghoon felt like shouting and asking what you were doing there. Perhaps the last part he could do.

“What are you doing here?” he asked after a long time without saying anything, just enjoying – even if fearfully – your presence in front of him.

“I brought you home after you nearly passed out in the bar last night” you smiled, even though your gaze was on the coffee machine and the sound of the liquid falling into one of the cups.

Sunghoon sighed heavily and leaned on the kitchen worktop, facing you and at a safe distance from the other side. If he were standing next to you, you knew you wouldn't be able to control yourself.

“And what happened?” he decided to ask, to be honest at least ”I don't remember anything…”

“I didn't think so” you laughed. A laugh so genuine that Sunghoon almost jumped over that counter to kiss you the way he wanted.

“So… tell me” he asked softly, almost in a whisper, but you heard him nonetheless.

Waiting for the first cup of coffee to be ready, you handed it to him while he prepared another for you. Sunghoon took it and drank the dark, bitter liquid, knowing that it could help with his hangover.

“Neither Jake nor Jay could get you to stop drinking yesterday” you began, your gaze following Sunghoon's every move as you watched him drink the hot, bitter coffee.

“And what did you do?” Sunghoon asked, apprehensive about the answer.

Suddenly a flush rose to his cheeks and he thought it might be the steam from the coffee you were preparing, but as soon as you looked away, he knew something else had happened.

“I thought on impulse and kissed you” you managed to grab the freshly prepared cup, causing Sunghoon to almost choke on his coffee.

Now he felt like a complete idiot because, after all this time, you had kissed him and he hadn't remembered?

“It was quick, enough to make you drop the glass” you said ”Then you asked me to bring you home because… Well…”

He ran his gaze all over your body, forcing himself to remember a little more of what was going on. Sunghoon doesn't remember the feeling of your lips on his again, but like a memory retrieval, he could visualize getting into your car together with you. The drive to his apartment and how you helped him undress so he could shower.

You hated that he slept smelling of booze since university… Why didn't Sunghoon think of that as soon as he woke up? Only you could make him clean himself up even when he was drunk.

“And then you asked me to sleep with you because…” your voice faltered a little, your gaze lowered to the liquid in your cup as you vividly remembered Sunghoon's words ”Because you didn't want me to escape again.”

Drunk or not, he didn't regret having said that to you. Sunghoon's only regret was not being sober enough to have enjoyed the time he had with you since you entered his apartment. But now that time could be rewarded as he left his cup on the counter and walked around to stand in front of you.

“I really meant that, Y/n” he said, smiling weakly when you also left your cup on the counter to turn to him.

You didn't have to be a genius to know that Sunghoon was leaning in the next second and capturing your lips in a slow kiss. Knowing the man in front of you well, you even thought it took him long enough to do it. Fighting his demons and fears of losing you again, but at the same time pushing it all away and concentrating only on having you in his arms again.

The way he grabbed you and sat you on his kitchen worktop, his hands sliding down your thighs – unfortunately – clad in the pants from the night before. As your lips moved against his, Sunghoon felt a spark in his body thinking that this could only be a dream. Because one night he was moaning yet again about you, being dragged out by Jay. While the next day he had you sitting on his bench, kissing him so lovingly as if you weren't the cause of the pain and fear he felt.

You were the first to break the kiss, gasping for air in your lungs from the euphoria of kissing Sunghoon after so long. He stood between your legs, foreheads pressed together as he felt your breath against his lips.

“Why did you leave?” he asked suddenly, his hands squeezing your legs without much force, but enough for you to know that he wasn't going to let you go.

You sighed once more, your lips brushing against his as your hands traveled the length of Sunghoon's arms until they reached his shoulders.

“My father,” you whispered, ”he wanted to control so much.”

“Like what?” Sunghoon lowered his face to the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent which seemed to calm him down a little. The feeling of comfort that settled over him when you sighed and pressed him against your body.

Sunghoon didn't want to leave, to stay with you forever in that position or your arms. He could forget everything that had happened and focus on the present moment while he relished the sensation of your hands against his skin or your skin against his lips. But not everything could be that simple, not when your phone interrupted the whole process.

The noise of the handset could have been ignored if it hadn't been so annoying to you. Apologizing to Sunghoon, you sneaked close enough to grab the handset from the other side of the worktop, still holding the boy between your legs as she alternated your gaze between him and the phone.

“Answer it” he whispered, smoothing your legs and trying not to kiss you while you answered.

As much as he wanted to do that, he wanted to hear you grumble while he kissed your neck or to hear you fight with him for making you make embarrassing sounds to whoever was on the other end of the line.

“Hi, Dad” well, maybe he really could do that then.

Sunghoon's lips slowly brushed against your chin, listening to you grumble as you spoke to your father. He already didn't like the older man, so it wouldn't hurt if you said Sunghoon's name out loud while he spread kisses all over your skin. Going down to your neck, tugging at the collar of his T-shirt – which you wore so beautifully – Sunghoon wanted to mark your skin.

“I… I didn't tell you I was back, I'm sorry” so not even your father knew about your return to the country? That was intriguing, it almost made him stop kissing your skin. But Sunghoon remained strong, convinced that he wouldn't stop until you said his name.

“No, I can't do that… Shit” you almost let out a moan when Sunghoon nibbled at the perfect spot on your neck, matching the exact moment when he pressed his hips against yours “Stop…” you whispered to him as you moved the device far enough away so that your father wouldn't hear.

“No” he smiled and sealed your lips, letting you go back to talking to your father.

“Dinner? But…” you faltered a little, trying to concentrate on the bullshit demands your father was trying to make of you. Without taking into account that you were going to Switzerland to try to get away from him and the way he tried to control your life, “I'm not going.”

“But we need to make arrangements for you to meet Owen, after all, his father and I still think you two should get married.”

It was careless of you to put the phone away just as your father raised his voice on the other end of the line, echoing loud enough for Sunghoon to hear. You could have waved it off, disconnected the call and pretended that nothing had happened, but you knew it was too late when you no longer felt Sunghoon's ringtone.

He moved away from you slowly, his eyes focused on your face as he tried to explain what he had just heard.

You didn't even manage to answer your father properly, disconnecting the call straight away and putting the phone somewhere else on the worktop.

“Sunghoon…”

“Getting married, then?” he took a few steps out from between your legs, but remained standing in front of you.

“I'm not getting married, I just—”

“When were you going to tell me?” Sunghoon asked, his tone wavering as he continued to stare at you “When the date is set?”

“I've already said I'm not getting married, Sunghoon. My father…”

“Did he set you up? Was he going to set you up with some business partner's son like in those shitty movies where you, rich, fall in love with a piece of shit like me, but are promised to someone full of money?”

Sunghoon never changed his tone of voice in all the years the two of you had known each other, it had been so different that you never imagined yourself in that scenario. Not even when you met him the night before, expecting him to yell at you and do something to hurt you. But no. Here you were again, hurting him as you had done.

“Sunghoon, I—”

“Please, go away” Sunghoon walked over to the sink, his hands resting on it and his body forward, staring at anything in the dishes that was interesting enough for him not to look at you.

“But—”

“I told you to leave, Y/n” the harsh, squeaky voice made your body cringe, you got off the counter and didn't dare approach him, even though you wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him what was going on. You thought he would listen to you, but Sunghoon seemed adamant.

Your body couldn't move, although you needed to get out of there when your vision started to blur and you felt your chest tighten. Sunghoon didn't hear any movement from you, so he turned his head to find you standing there in his kitchen.

He was no longer ashamed to cry in front of you, nor did he think he'd be able to hide it when it all mixed and pooled in his eyes, trailing down his cheeks, not unlike you.

“Please, leave me alone. Please, Y/n.”

The pleading cut through your heart and you knew it was all because of you. Because you weren't able to say anything to him or even stop your father from saying all the shit he always said.

There was nothing left to do but leave Sunghoon's apartment, even though you wanted to stay. You knew that going back wouldn't be a good idea, but you didn't think you'd experience any of it either.

“You're staying with us tonight, aren't you?” Jay's voice was a little louder than the music playing in the bar. Sunghoon turned to his friend and smiled weakly, admiring his persistence in thinking he would stay there on a Friday night. Even though he knew there was a good chance you'd show up.

He still didn't know how he was feeling after what had happened, and he also avoided Stella's little requests – through Jay – for him to text you or come to your apartment. Sunghoon had no idea what to feel or think in that situation, making his mind work on various scenarios that he created himself.

Thinking that you could have gone to Switzerland with that man your father had mentioned on the phone, or worse, he thought about how long you had been promised to someone rich and disgusting who had been your old father's choice. While Sunghoon could barely provide you with a decent life. Not that you needed it, because he knew you had enough money to buy his bar if you wanted to. A decent life was all you didn't need from him. That's why maybe someone from your world, the way you lived, would be better. That's why your father seemed so convinced of this, without ruling out any possibility that you might already be with someone else.

Not that he was that other person, there hadn't even been time for Sunghoon to make a formal request or even say that you were his. There was no time at all.

“I'm going home” Sunghoon replied after getting lost in his thoughts, seeing Jay's worried look in his direction.

The tray carrying the empty glasses went straight into the sink, and Sunghoon washed and sanitized them properly before leaving them to drain and waiting for Jake or Heeseung to finish the job.

“Really?” Jay leaned against the opposite side of the sink from where Sunghoon still stood, looking at the people coming in and out of the small dance floor. They were drunk enough to wave to Jake, who was pouring them a drink at the moment.

“Really, I think I need a rest” in reality, he didn't need a rest, he was just avoiding meeting you there in case you went. And Jay knew that very well.

“Okay” he conceded, no longer wanting to push Sunghoon to say anything about it. He got up from where he was to walk over to his friend, ruffling the boy's dark, sweaty hair in front of him “Anything, call me, okay? I'm not drinking tonight because Stella and Alicia will probably want to leave here loaded,” he said, making Sunghoon laugh ”So I'll be chauffeuring you all night. Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything.”

“And neither will I” Jake appeared next to Jay ”I drove here today and I can drop Alicia off at home if you need us at your apartment…”

“Boys' night?” Sunghoon joked.

“Come on, it's only desolate, sad girls who can do that?” Jake pouted and picked up a clean glass, grimacing at his two friends as he walked away to serve another group of people who had leaned over the bar.

Sunghoon felt terrible to see his friends' efforts to make him well, even if he didn't want to be sinking like that into something that was only hurting. He wished he could stay at the bar or even accept the boys' invitation to do something, but all he wanted was to be home. Maybe cry some more – out of resentment or anger – and drink whatever was in the fridge, then fall asleep until the next morning.

And that's what he did when he got to his apartment, at least the drinking part. He took off his shoes and coat, then went to the fridge and got three cans of beer. He sat down on the sofa and opened them one by one while thinking about his life recently.

He knew that sleep would be a long time coming because with every sip of beer, he wondered why all this was happening. Sunghoon had seen movies with this theme before, he had even heard of a book that Stella read about a rich guy who fell in love with a girl who wasn't rich. The only difference was that his story with you was the complete opposite. Sunghoon wasn't rich at all.

Laughing at life's misfortunes, he finished his third beer and risked opening the bottle of wine that Jake had bought and left at his friend's apartment for the next time they were all together. Perhaps he wouldn't mind if Sunghoon drank it all, because the occasion called for a little more alcohol and until the next meeting between friends, he would certainly buy Jake another bottle. And if it was for the heartbreak reason, which it really was, he knew his friend would forgive him for taking it all himself.

“I don't think that's going to be enough” Sunghoon muttered to himself as he opened the bottle and took the first sip of wine, the strange mixture of the previous taste of beer and the smooth grapes of the current drink. He had mixed a lot of things before, but this one was strange. Not that it mattered at the moment, Sunghoon just wanted to finish that bottle.

To feel nothing but sleep or for all that sensation to fade from his body, at least for a little while. Just long enough for him to recover enough so that, when he saw you again, he wouldn't act like an idiot in love. Even though you might be in the arms of someone other than him. Even if you were going to share a life with someone other than him. Sunghoon thought he was too late in proposing to you because he had wasted so much time without saying anything.

From the moment he met you at university until years after his courses ended, he was only able to talk about his feelings because you did it first. And even then you tore it all away from him in a matter of a short time. But even though it happened, if he had told you he loved you even before all that, Sunghoon could have enjoyed a little time being yours and you being his. In his arms.

And not that empty bottle of wine he was holding, hoping it would be you there.

Sunghoon usually woke up from his nap with his cell phone ringing in the early hours of Friday morning. Jake or Jay calls and he refuses to go to the bar to finish the drinks so that everyone would go home drunk. But now his nap had been interrupted by frantic knocks on the door.

The first thing he did was glance at the clock hanging on the opposite wall, showing that he had been asleep for less than twenty minutes. The empty bottle of wine was neatly placed on the coffee table in the living room and he had closed his eyes while still sitting on the sofa, without bothering to lie down or go to the bedroom.

The knocks continued and Sunghoon began to get anxious because the rapidity with which the noises were made against the door indicated that whoever was there was in a hurry. And maybe his friends needed him because something might have happened. Jay and Jake weren't drunk, as they had said in the bar before he left… So what could it be? He didn't want to think about anything else and ran the few steps from the sofa to the door, taking a long breath before opening it.

His hand trembled slightly against the handle as he turned it slowly and, with his other hand, Sunghoon unlocked the door.

He could have seen it through the peephole before opening it because the look of astonishment on your face when you stood in front of his apartment door wasn't something you could have rehearsed. You could see that Sunghoon wasn't expecting it and, strangely, you didn't care whether he liked it or not. It was as if you had already predicted that his reaction would be total astonishment.

Sunghoon couldn't say anything, amazed and even a little stunned by your presence there. Stopping to analyze the whole situation, your clothes were quite different from the ones you usually wore. No social attire, elegant clothes, or high heels. Instead, you were wearing jeans, a button-down shirt three times your size, and a completely messy ponytail. Your breathing was so ragged that you could only take deep breaths while looking at him.

“Y/n?” Sunghoon practically whispered as he stared at you trying to take it all in. Afraid he'd say your name a little louder and it was just a drunken dream he was having.

To his surprise, you just nodded and took a step forward, still panting as you walked far enough into his apartment. Facing him squarely.

Already preparing yourself for the question he would ask, such as “what are you doing here?” or whatever, you tried to act on your feelings and prayed that he wouldn't interrupt you this time. The speed with which your lips touched his even shocked you because you didn't think you'd have such good aim just by lifting your own feet high enough to reach where you most wanted to touch him at that second.

Processing the event while still half-drowsy, Sunghoon smacked his lips to yours and then pulled away. Inches away from your face just to try to assimilate that you had just kissed him, and when you grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him against you again, he let himself go.

It wasn't as if he was going to stop you from kissing him, even though he had mixed feelings. But neither was he going to deny that he was kissing the woman he loved so much.

He was the first to give the go-ahead to deepen the kiss, opening his lips to receive your tongue and feeling you press your fingers into his shirt. When your tongue tangled with Sunghoon's, he put his hand around your waist to press you against him. His free hand closed the door in the same second to push your back against the cold wood and trap you between it and the tall, slender body in front of you.

In a contest of longing and need, your tongue and his played in sync as you felt Sunghoon's hand slide under the fabric of your shirt. Touching your skin and almost sending a shock through your whole body when he ran his short nails along your hip. A screaming need to feel him in every corner of your body, you craved it as much as he did and tried to show it as you kissed him even more.

Even though it was an almost impossible mission to say everything you felt for Sunghoon because it was beyond words and all you wanted was to make him understand you. That he would listen to you because surely his thoughts about everything that was happening were completely wrong. You wanted to prove it to him. And maybe you were on the right track.

When Sunghoon ran both hands down your hips, to your ass, and down to your thighs, the two slaps there were enough for you to understand that he wanted you in his arms. On his lap. And you didn't hesitate to jump up and wrap your legs around his body when he picked you up.

“Take me to your room” you smiled against his lips, slowly sliding down when you both needed some air, going to Sunghoon's ear “We need to talk.”

“About what?” Sunghoon's breathy voice was so attractive and exciting, that you could swear you almost moaned just from the memories it brought back.

“About us” you felt Sunghoon's arms squeeze your body in his lap, but at no time did the boy show any resistance as he pulled you away from the door to take you to his room.

The whole way was done in silence, feeling his gaze on you almost the whole way, except when he paid a little more attention so that he didn't hurt you or stumble by mistake. Even more so when your lips did a great job against his cheek, going down to his jaw and neck. It bought you time between Sunghoon's slow steps and the time it took you to think about how to start that conversation once you got to his room.

Why, what would you start by saying? And how would you start? Because telling Stella, Jay, and Jake had been easy. Smooth, even, with the possibility of your friends judging you. But because it was Sunghoon, the main character in all of this, things seemed to be even more complicated.

Your thoughts were interrupted when the two of you reached his room, Sunghoon slowly standing you up as he passed the door and closed it. His eyes glazed over your figure as he waited for your next move. His mind would have to work a million different ways now. Afraid that he would kick you out of the apartment once again or not listen to you explain while you had a lot to say, something crossed your mind and you prayed that it would work out. Not least because you'd need to concentrate on every word while you did everything you wanted to do.

One of your hands went to Sunghoon's abdomen, slowly moving up to his chest and giving it a gentle push. It was nothing compared to her strength and his size, at most moving the boy's body a centimeter in front of you. Enough for him to take a slow step backward.

“Sit down” you instructed softly, slowly pushing him towards his bed. You tried your best to make your voice sound calm as you watched him nod and walk backward to the bed, sitting down and leaning against the headboard. Your smile slowly followed his, but Sunghoon held his breath as you climbed onto the bed to sit on his lap, both hands resting on his broad shoulders.

“What are you doing? Weren't we going to talk?” he asked, his voice shaky and wavering as he felt your weight on his lap. Sunghoon frowned, not because he hated having you on his lap, on the contrary, but it had never crossed his mind to have a conversation in that position.

“We will” you leaned your forehead against his ”But I'm afraid you won't let me talk, so I thought I'd do something.”

“What thing?” Sunghoon asked when he felt your breath against his face, your warm breath against his freshly kissed and still reddened lips. You smiled, but he couldn't capture the moment because he had just closed his eyes to revel in every little sensation you gave his body.

Sunghoon had completely forgotten the old feeling that he didn't want to see you anymore, that he was avoiding you at all costs. He forgot everything the moment he felt your lips on his when you arrived at the apartment, and now, feeling you holding his face between your hands. Your little fingers caressing his skin – which would have been stained with tears tonight if you hadn't been here – and trailing around his jaw to his lower lip. You didn't respond immediately, nor did he complain when he felt you kissing him again.

It was like being addicted to something and needing it to live, regardless of whether he deserved it or not. Sunghoon knew he wouldn't be able to go on without kissing you and without having you. He didn't want to think about a world in which you wouldn't be with him as you are right now. Sunghoon just wanted to feel your tongue entwining with his slowly, urgently, and intensely. Your heavy breathing against his mouth almost drove him crazy, not least when you were rocking against his lap.

It was too much torture to feel you like that, the clothes getting in the way as you slowly rolled over in his lap. His cock, once semi-hard, was now hard enough to rub against your jeans and the pants he was wearing, creating the perfect friction for both of you.

“Fuck” he moaned against your mouth, stifling another moan when he felt your nails against his shoulders. Sunghoon wasn't going to question whether that was an effective method of conversation, but if you wanted to start like that, he wasn't going to stop you.

He ran his big hands down your shirt, finding your ass very well synchronized in slowly rolling over, at the same intensity as your tongue played with his. It was as if you wanted to make him feel the same movements inside your mouth and on top of your lap, as your clothed pussy rubbed against his cock.

“Sunghoon” you moaned his name, an extremely low blow. This made Sunghoon's fingers squeeze each side of your buttocks, stopping your hip movements.

“Do you…” he sighed, his heartbeat accelerating as you pulled your mouth away from his ”Do you want to talk like this?”

He looked like a lost, needy little animal, his big eyes staring at you and his chest rising and falling in gasping breaths. Such a beautiful sight that you missed it, and having it again was something you didn't want to miss.

Releasing Sunghoon's hands from your ass, you intertwined your fingers with his and left them next to your body, on the side of your thighs. If your expression wasn't so passionate, he could have sworn it was some kind of tease as you moved back against his lap.

“I want you to pay attention only to what I say” you whispered, squeezing his fingers and letting out a low moan as your clit rubbed exactly against his jeans and the head of his cock at that moment. That was all you needed “Can you do that for me?”

There was a minute's silence as Sunghoon pondered this because he couldn't concentrate on anything other than the movements you were making. It would be difficult to focus on your words while what he wanted most at that moment was to be inside you.

“I'll try” he managed to say before he felt you slip out of his lap.

The loss of contact made Sunghoon a little dizzy because he felt his cock ache, that friction was all he needed, but losing it suddenly made him feel weak. He looked at where you were, standing next to his bed as you unbuttoned your jeans and left only your big shirt. It was a punishment that it was that big and covered half your thighs… Why couldn't you wear one of the shirts you normally wore? They were small enough to go halfway down the buttons of the pants you wore, and not nearly as dressy as that one. He also didn't think about why you were undressing, let alone why you had gone back between his legs and now it was your fingers' turn to open the buttons on Sunghoon's pants.

“Y/n, what—” he tilted his head back and leaned against the headboard, his eyes closing and his breathing completely heavy as you lowered the fabric of his pants enough to free his cock from the tightness of his jeans and hold it over the fabric of the briefs he was wearing ”Fuck, you…”

“I want you to understand that whatever I say is true” your thumb perfectly drew the line of his cock head covered in pre-cum that had already soaked through his underwear. Sunghoon moaned loudly at the touch and squirmed to try to get your hand away, feeling the slight slap you gave him before looking him in the eye.

Eye contact alone could make him come right there, without any further ministrations from you. Sunghoon could free himself in his boxers as he felt you draw circles on the head of his cock, but it couldn't be that easy. You weren't going to provoke him because he didn't deserve that at all. He deserved to be taken care of, to listen carefully to what you had to say, and, perhaps, to understand every word. He just prayed that everything would be said clearly, even if he was struggling against your touches to pay attention to the words.

You knew that the body language between the two of you was a great connection because when your fingers slid into the waistband of his pants, Sunghoon didn't even think to help you remove the fabric along with the underwear he was wearing, his cock being released in a mixture of relief and pain, slapping against the belly covered by the T-shirt he was still wearing. The garments went halfway down his thighs before he saw you move far enough away for him to pull them off and throw them on the floor beside the bed. Now with his lower half completely bare to you, exposed like that, Sunghoon knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything. Not with you kneeling between his legs again.

“I want you to believe me, Sunghoon” you whispered as you leaned in, your face close enough to his to say it, ”Do you?”

He was quiet at that moment, just staring at you and hoping that something would formulate in the back of his mind. Sunghoon would believe… But in what? What, exactly, would he have to believe? What would you say would have to be done just for him to believe? Sunghoon's mind wasn't working very well at that moment, he seemed lost and excited and just agreeing was enough for you to continue whatever you were doing. He would only accept at that moment, fighting against any greater urge before actually listening to you. Or feel you, because he didn't know what you would do first.

Watching your slow movements as you slid between his legs, your face lowering just enough to get close to his cock and your mouth touching the head smeared with pre-cum.

“Fuck you” he muttered almost as a roar of relief when he felt your hot mouth suck the tip of his cock. The pop when you released it made Sunghoon moan low and almost cry from the contact.

Your hand firmly gripped the base of his cock, the narrow veins running along the length that filled you so well last time. You made eye contact with him the second your mouth returned to spilling the mushroom, the tip of your tongue making the perfect circle before your lips slowly slid down his cock.

“Shit, Y/n” he moaned. The sensation of having his cock swallowed by your warm, soft lips was divine. Your tongue felt his vein fissures and your throat accommodating the glans when you reached the bottom. You slid his cock out once more, but without taking it out completely as you did the first time, establishing a rhythm so slow that Sunghoon might have thought he was being tortured.

The torture in your eyes fixed on his, with your mouth full of his cock as you moved your head up and down in a rhythm that you set yourself to suck it. Sunghoon knew – and anyone else in those conditions – that it would be impossible for you to say anything at that moment, so delighting in your mouth around his cock was the perfect moment. Sunghoon wrapped his already-tangled hair between his fingers, taking advantage of the ponytail hairstyle he'd done before so that he could hold onto you with one hand and the other wrapped around your jaw.

“You're doing so good, babe” Sunghoon said, his thumb caressing your cheek and spreading a little of your saliva that fell each time you took his cock deeper into your mouth until it touched your throat. He moaned your name every time you proved that your vomit reflex was in perfect condition. You took him so deep that Sunghoon knew he could come right there, in the warmth of your lips as he felt you speed up your movements.

He pressed his thumb against your jaw as you moved your mouth up and down his cock faster, your gaze never leaving Sunghoon's fucked face above you. Your name was said with each heavy breath and the moans he let out were like the most beautiful melody you could have heard in your life.

“I'm going to… Y/n, please…” Sunghoon didn't want to come so quickly, he didn't want to look so weak for a blowjob as well done as yours. And it seems that you didn't want him to come so soon either, because your mouth began to move slowly down his cock until it stopped completely. Your tongue makes the same circle around the head of his cock until you let go, again, with a pop.

How pornographic that sound could be when accompanied by Sunghoon's hoarse moan at the same moment. You knew your panties were wet enough just from the sounds and feel of his cock inside your mouth, but you didn't care anymore. Not when you also had to concentrate because your words weren't finished. You had a few more things to say to him. Before returning to Sunghoon's lap, you discarded your sticky, wet panties, almost in the same spot next to the bed where his clothes were, and it was only at that moment that you returned to your old spot – his lap.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he was visibly stunned and you secretly liked that effect, the hint that he didn't want to see you had finally disappeared and now the faint smile Sunghoon was giving you was the perfect indication that he had your undivided attention.

“In a good way?” you asked, your tone low and your hips hovering in the air so as not to touch your naked pussy to his cock just yet.

“In the best of ways” he said, tilting his head towards yours to capture your lips this time.

It was Sunghoon's turn to start the kiss a little less slowly than the two of you had shared so far. His hands held your face on either side and he could feel your jaw moving during the kiss as his thumbs made the perfect line to your chin. And you knew that this would be the perfect moment since Sunghoon's hands were busy holding your face, he wouldn't stop you.

You slid your hand between the two bodies and gripped his cock, taking advantage of the fact that your saliva would be the perfect combination of lubrication with how wet your pussy was. Then you simply slid the head of his cock between your folds, opting to tease him another time, and slid it in far enough until it found its entrance. It didn't take you long to slide his cock in effortlessly.

“Fuck, shit. I—” Sunghoon didn't have time to reason or even say anything to you when his cock was already completely inside your pussy. He wouldn't deny something like that, he wouldn't stop you, but feeling your pussy swallow his cock without any warning was one of the most delicious sensations he'd ever felt.

Sunghoon's hands left your face to grip your hips before you could start any movement. He didn't want to teach you anything, he wanted to let you guide yourself as you felt most comfortable, but he needed to feel the way you moved as well as have his cock inside you. So when you raised your hips for the first time and then lowered yourself in a not-so-slow movement, he tightened his fingers on your hips in response, moaning your name.

“Sunghoon” you moaned, but you wanted to call him out as you put your idea into action. He just grunted as he felt you move again on his lap, your pussy swallowing his cock so well that it was hard to say anything “I want you to unbutton my shirt while I talk to you…”

“Fuck, no” he moaned as you went down on his cock again, a little faster this time.

He didn't want to deny it, but it was hard to concentrate. So Sunghoon knew he had to be guided, and you knew you had to do it when you took his hands and led them to the first button of your shirt.

“Just concentrate on that and my words.”

He wanted to ask if this was how you behaved when you were the boss of the company or when you had to deal with someone from your work or even your father. The authoritative yet cautious way you spoke to him made his cock twitch inside you. And he wondered how it was possible for you to keep your tone while resting your hands on his shoulder and forcing your legs up and down on his cock.

Sunghoon leaned his head back against the headboard, the moans becoming frequent and released without any pause. The sound of slapping skin as you began to hump faster, his pelvis meeting yours, and the wet, squishing sound of your pussy every time you swallowed him. His fingers were trembling as he managed to unbutton the first button, moving down to the second and losing himself for a moment when the walls of your pussy squeezed him tight.

“I'm not going to make it with you… squeezing me like that…”

“You can do it, Hoonie” he could have easily turned you against that mattress and fucked you so hard with his hooded provocations and authoritarian requests in that situation. But he didn't have the strength, let alone the courage, to disobey your requests while you slowed down your movements because you knew it was hard for him. Sunghoon managed to unbutton the second button and went down to the next one, his eyes slowly opening to look at you.

Your smile was angelic even in the position he was in and the way you were rubbing up against him. Now, going back and forth with your clit deliciously rubbing against his pelvis and, when you moved a little more, you could rub against his cock covered in all your essence before getting just the tip inside your hole and sliding it into you again. He didn't want to ask where you'd learned it or if you'd even practiced, maybe Sunghoon was lucky enough to have been the first to feel it because you were so horny that you tried out the wildest fantasies in your mind. And that's exactly what it was, but you'd never tell him.

“Sunghoon” you called him again when your rolls and movements became less intense. You still kept them up but in a more sensual way. You wanted to emphasize your words and let him finish the buttons on your shirt. He looked you in the eye, the shine in that gaze and the intense way in which Sunghoon stared at you was the certainty of everything you felt. You leaned forward, your slightly sweaty forehead touching his and your panting breaths mingling with each other “You're the only one for me.”

“What?” he finished unbuttoning your shirt, given the circumstances of your slow movements. A respite for the poor man with a hard-on and his hard, aching cock being swallowed by your pussy.

Opening your shirt and revealing your bra, he didn't even bother to look at the lace or anything else, because your voice was the only thing he was concentrating on at that moment. The two of you kept staring at each other until you finally took off your shirt and took the opportunity to get rid of your bra, knowing that you had tortured Sunghoon enough to make him unbutton every button.

You pulled away from him to pull up his shirt, and he was quick to get the message and get completely naked, just as you were on top of him. You leaned your forehead against his again, your skin glistening against the light in the room and the sweat emanating from your shared activities.

“I don't want anyone but you” you kissed his lips slowly, moving your hips back in the same way ”I've never been with anyone but you and—”

Sunghoon knew it was enough, he knew he just needed that confirmation. Even if you'd been trying to say it all along and he was too stubborn – and jealous – to listen. He wanted to suffer in silence rather than listen to what you had to say. But after today and what you did, he could no longer have any doubts about the things that were happening.

Giving him all to reverse positions, pressing your back down on the mattress, and getting on top of you, Sunghoon lined his cock up in your pussy without wasting any time in being inside you again.

“Say it again,” he whispered as he began to thrust his cock into you. Sunghoon's face lined up on the curve of your neck as he thrust his cock into you at a slow but strong pace. The sound of his pelvis against your skin was enough to make you forget your words. Now you understood why he couldn't speak so perfectly when you were on top. It was hard to think of anything coherent while you felt his cock going deep inside you.

“I don't… Shit” you moaned softly as his cock drove deep, hitting the perfect spot inside your warm walls and making your nails slide down his back. Sunghoon kissed your neck, smiling against your skin at the effect he caused just by slowly thrusting his cock into you. “I don't want anyone else but you” saying it quickly hadn't been a mistake, not least because you knew that once he heard it, it would be enough to feel you faster.

And that's what happened. As if you knew him so well, Sunghoon raised his face to look at your every expression as he began to fuck his cock into your pussy. The fast, strong movements made your body sway beneath him and the overwhelming sound of your arousal coursed through his cock every time it moved in and out of you. Sunghoon rested one hand on the side of your body, the other gripped the headboard so tightly that his fingers might have hurt afterward from the force with which he held on. But it was all a consequence of all the sensations repressed while he fucked you as he pleased.

Sunghoon ignored the burning in your back caused by your nails in his skin, and he also ignored the fact that your thighs were squeezing him so tightly that, if it weren't for the speed with which he moved his hips against yours, you would surely have been able to stop him in a few moves. But he wouldn't give up, he wouldn't stop.

“I can't take it… I can't…” you pulled his face close to yours, mouths too close together.

“Do you want to cum?” he asked, your nod the only source of confirmation as you moaned his name against his lips.

Sunghoon nodded too, knowing he wasn't that far away from you as his cock throbbed inside your pussy. The way you sucked him so well was the perfect indication that he had to come right there to claim what was rightfully his. Your pussy and all of you.

He let you kiss him again, messy with drool, totally sloppy as he felt his hips stutter in their movements. You were getting more and more desperate and this was proven by the way your moans were swallowed by his lips and your pussy clenching him tightly.

It wasn't long before you came against his cock, the muscles in your pussy convulsing around his length. Without delay, Sunghoon knew you wouldn't be strong enough to take it, so he came straight away. The load of cum he poured into your pussy was hot and thick, every part of you squeezing him, milking his cock a little more until the last drop of cum he poured into you dried up.

Gasping and with your lips still pressed together, you gave one last loud sigh after moaning his name against his lips. Smiling along with Sunghoon as you both recovered a little from your rapid breathing.

He didn't want to open his eyes at that moment, afraid that everything would happen again. You and him having sex, and then Sunghoon found out that you were leaving for another country, and that made his heart hurt even more when he opened his eyes and didn't see you on the other side of the bed.

Sunghoon could have sworn he had hugged your waist the entire night after the two of you slept together, but you were no longer by his side. Again.

A lump formed in his throat at the thought that this was happening again, and even worse after you said everything you said. It wouldn't be indicative of anything if you spoke and still walked away like you did with him. Was that why you had asked him to believe you? So you could have another night together and now you're going to another country? Well, what would it be this time? It would have to be something further away than Switzerland because Sunghoon swore he could travel there after you again if that was the case.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, pushing away his blurred vision with a strong breath and trying not to focus on the tightness he was feeling in his chest, he stretched his hand beside the bed just to feel for his underwear and put them on, quickly leaving the room without paying attention to nothing else. It wouldn't be new for him to be left by you, but this time Sunghoon had to put an end to what he was feeling because he couldn't afford to be chased, to listen to you, to have sex with you, and then watch you leave. He couldn't allow that because Sunghoon would suffer every time, while he wouldn't know why you did all that.

He wanted not to think about those things, he wanted not to feel like crying as he walked around the apartment. But in vain, a tear had already fallen down his cheek and before Sunghoon even wiped it away, he almost felt his heart come out of his mouth when he found your figure in the kitchen.

You were wearing his t-shirt from the night before, and your eyes were focused on the small recipe book as you had some ingredients in front of you. With the sound of his footsteps, your attention was no longer on the words written by Sunghoon's grandfather in that worn notebook, but rather on the crying boy standing at the kitchen door.

“Hey, Hoonie” you would smile if it weren’t for the sight of Sunghoon’s cloudy eyes and wet cheek. You quickly walked towards him and held the face of the man in front of you, wiping away the second tear that was about to fall down the middle of his cheek “What is it? What happened?"

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug and sniffling softly against your hair.

“I thought you were gone again” he whimpered, letting a few more tears fall as he felt you hug him.

Relief would be best described in the middle of that hug, over any feeling Sunghoon swore he felt after waking up. He felt your lips kiss his bare shoulder and then slowly slide down his arms until you faced him.

“I’m not going anywhere anymore” you smiled, kissing him on the lips “And that’s why we need to talk.”

“For real now, right? Without my dick inside you?”

“Sunghoon!” you slapped his arm as you walked away, hearing the boy's captivating and welcoming laugh.

He noticed you were making his grandfather's famous coffee, or trying to replicate the little details. Just like he did that day in your apartment. The nostalgic moment brings him back to the day you told him you were in love with him. You revealed your feelings and let him say them too.

As you went back to preparing coffee, you felt Sunghoon's arms wrap around your waist and hug you from behind. He rested his face on your shoulder to pay attention while you concentrated there.

“I think I'm ready to listen to you now” he said as calmly as if he hadn't been almost desperate minutes before.

He also wouldn't say that he thought about traveling to another country if the scenario repeated itself. Maybe you thought he was crazy, or not so much because you knew Sunghoon enough to know that he would be capable of that since his first feeling was denial that you came back this time. Now all he had to do was go after it if it happened. What he wouldn't do and you would say so clearly to him.

“You were right when you said that my Dad tried to set me up with a partner’s son and everything…” Sunghoon knew there was no way to hide the tightening of his muscles, the arms around your waist tightening a little more and the jaw resting on your shoulder becoming harder as he listened to you. You knew this would happen, so you had to be quick in your explanations “That’s very much a movie scene, isn’t it?”

"What?" he asked, trying to ignore the amusement in your tone. This wasn't fun at all, why were you making it out to be?

“The Dad trying to arrange a marriage for his daughter and the heiress of his company” you laughed softly as you poured some coffee powder into the machine, focusing on the mixture of sugar and cinnamon that was described on the sheet on the other side of the counter “But my life it’s not a movie.”

"What do you mean by that?" Sunghoon was visibly confused, his hands resting against your stomach.

“I mean that—” you stopped yourself, hearing the coffee machine start to make noise as it prepared the liquid that the two of you would drink right away. Turning around in Sunghoon's arms, your hands finally palmed his bare chest. “My father tried to control this in my life, but he couldn't. And that’s why I went to Switzerland.”

If he was confused before, he was even more so now. And as he listened to you calmly, everything, even though it made sense, left him shocked.

Sunghoon knew that your father always tried to control everything in your life, and it was one of the biggest reasons why you always vented to him. Having someone control almost everything for you was extremely annoying, a tremendous invasion of privacy. But as soon as you learned that your father wanted to make you marry his business partner's son, it sounded like a ridiculous joke to you. It was a movie you could see with Stella at a movie theater as they discussed how life tried to imitate art, but not when you objected to it.

“That night I showed up at your bar crying, it was because I decided to leave for Switzerland without anyone knowing. I wanted to escape yet another choice in my life made by my father” you sighed slowly, Sunghoon's fingers caressing your waist through your – his – t-shirt. You felt his lips slowly against the top of your head and you smiled because they remained there “Only you knew through that letter. I didn’t even tell Stella, but… I knew you would show her and the boys, so it was okay because I trust you all.”

He moved his lips from your head to your forehead, breathing deeply against your skin. Now that things were starting to make sense, Sunghoon swore he felt even more angry towards your father.

“This trip was to organize my mind on how I would face my father in this situation because it wasn't easy to make him change his mind” you sighed “Well, you heard it on the phone that day.”

“Unfortunately” he whispered, not wanting to interrupt you even if you wanted to hear him.

The noise of the coffee machine interrupted your thoughts for a brief moment, then you turned back in his arms to pour a good amount into the two cups in front of you. Sunghoon slid his arms around your waist again, still hugging you and not wanting to let go so soon.

“I came back because I decided to lead my own life, I didn't want him to do that for me anymore” preparing the coffee was done with a shaking hand because you felt like crying every time you thought about the fights against your father.

The harsh words he said to you while you refused to follow what he wanted for you. Of all the years he was in control of your life, it was time for things to change. You felt a feather-light kiss that Sunghoon placed on your shoulder when you signaled that the coffee was ready. He picked up the cup and walked to the other side of the counter so he was facing you.

“And also because I resigned from his company because he simply said I couldn’t get married when I was already committed to someone else.”

He almost spat out his coffee when he heard it come out of your mouth so nonchalantly. Those new attitudes from such a carefree Y/n were not something Sunghoon was used to, especially after you gave an innocent smile as if you hadn't said the craziest thing out loud.

"You're kidding, right?" he tried to catch his breath after coughing a few times, resting the cup on the kitchen counter “Y/n, you can’t do this.”

“I can and I did, Sunghoon” you smiled with your lips against your cup as you sipped your hot coffee “I talked about being in love with you since university, that I didn't want to be the boss of that shit company anymore and that I quit because I simply I wanted to have control of my own life and do what I wanted.”

As much as it was something he wanted to hear at all costs, Sunghoon couldn't be selfish enough to let you miss out on things because part of you had told your father about your feelings for him.

“Did you tell him about me?” Sunghoon asked, seeing you nod as you drank more coffee.

Possibly your father had cursed Sunghoon the moment he heard you say that he owned a bar and not the owner of a company. He knew this should have happened.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” your voice took him away from his thoughts for a while, he picked up the cup of coffee again, looking at the dark liquid now, trying not to focus on your intense gaze.

“You can’t just give up your life for your feelings, Y/n.”

“You mean the money?” he didn't see the eye roll you gave, otherwise he would scold you for it and continue saying how wrong you were for doing those things.

“I mean that—”

It hurt Sunghoon to have to think, and to be about to say that out loud. But just as you were being sincere, he could tell you what he thought too. It wouldn't be a judgment on his part and he hoped you wouldn't be offended, especially because he also had the right to think that way.

“The guy your father wants you to be with has money and a good life” he bit the tip of his tongue at the thought of another man being with you. Even if it was to make his father happy, Sunghoon just couldn't do it. “He's from your world, Y/n.”

"My world?" your shaky voice made him look up from the coffee to your face. You looked strangely sad, and he didn't want you to feel that. You should be happy, maybe, Sunghoon also didn't know what to think anymore.

“Yeah, he has money, I don’t” Sunghoon took a big sip of coffee “We’re from two different worlds, you know?”

“No” you replied quickly, the thud of the cup against the counter on the other side made Sunghoon shrug his shoulders momentarily.

"Why not?" he placed the cup back, walking around the counter ever so slowly to get closer to you again. He wanted to touch you and you would possibly hit him because of the way you were looking at him. He didn't want to see you like this either, but he risked pulling you against him and bringing your face closer to his.

“Because I don’t want a world where you’re not in it, Park Sunghoon” your pout dismantled him at that moment, matching the shape of your words “You are my world.”

Fuck your father's opinion and thoughts and Sunghoon's pride in trying to think that you should follow another path. He wouldn't be stupid enough to push you onto someone else, not when you were there, openly saying that you gave up a lot of things because of him. Much of it was because of you and your wishes, but if that included Sunghoon, he wouldn't waste it.

Sunghoon kissed you so slowly, feeling the taste of the freshly drunk coffee and your warm lips against his. Your hands quickly went to his hair and Sunghoon hugged you so tight, afraid you would run away and believe his words from minutes ago. Fuck money, fuck everything. You said he was your world, and he wanted to be your world just like you were his.

“I love you” Sunghoon whispered after kissing you, his lips still hovering over yours “I love you so much I don’t want you to leave.”

“I love you so much more” you whispered back, snuggling into his arms as you felt Sunghoon’s heartbeat against your chest as you felt him hold you in that hug. “And I’m not going anywhere without you now.”

“Promise?”

“I promise” you kissed his lips once again, and Sunghoon could scream with happiness to finally have you in his arms.

Being able to wake up every morning and feel your body on the other side of the bed with the certainty that you wouldn't leave. He knew he would have to face your father sooner or later, but he also knew that your request the night before to believe in you was what was worth it. Sunghoon would believe in you at all times because being together with you, nothing else mattered.

“By the way” you smiled slowly when he began to undo his arms around your body, moving away so he could return to the other side of the counter and drink the rest of the coffee. He would prepare food afterward because the drink alone wouldn't be enough.

“Say it, love” he encouraged you when he didn’t hear you continue. Raising an eyebrow at you as he brought the cup to his lips to finish the contents and pay attention to what you had to say.

“Is there space at your bar? I don’t want to be without work.”

Sunghoon truly laughed as he walked back behind you, leaning down enough to place the cup into the sink. He wouldn't imagine someone like you working in his crazy bar, not when you didn't behave like the people who worked there. Not even Stella would work there.

“Maybe you should ask Stella for help with this, baby” Sunghoon kissed the side of your neck, causing a slight shiver to run across your skin “I don’t want you to work in my bar because I know the type of customers I have there.”

"Jealous?" you joked.

"Jealous of you? Definitely” he nibbled your skin, watching you shiver even more.

Continued to laugh at your reaction and your protests about being a good employee, maybe even better than his three best friends. You could team up with Stella and attract more clientele to the bar, even if the establishment doesn't need it. It was Sunghoon's turn to feel a shiver run down his spine at the idea of ​​men staring at you or trying to flirt with you, just like he saw them doing with any girl who frequented his bar. Now that the two of you were together, he knew that being jealous was nothing compared to what he would experience with you.

But if it was the same way he was being, laughing at your protests, receiving your kisses as he scooped up the pancake batter, and listening to you grumble about wanting to work with Stella now, he would love to live by her side. Because you were his world, just like he was his.

© ikeuverse, 2023. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[satellite-evans]

Caught in the Act

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Benedict and his wife, his muse, are interrupted by his mischievous sister Eloise during a private painting session.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: fluff, Eloise being a tease

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The Bridgerton residence was always buzzing with activity. Whether it was the younger siblings running through the halls or the older siblings preparing for yet another social event, there was never a dull moment. Amidst this lively chaos, Benedict Bridgerton found his moments of peace and creativity in his art studio, tucked away in a quiet corner of the estate.

It was in this sanctuary that he often invited you, his beloved wife and muse, to pose for him. Today was no different. The soft afternoon light filtered through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Benedict stood at his easel, his eyes intensely focused on the canvas before him. You reclined on a chaise lounge, draped in a delicate, nearly translucent gown that accentuated your natural grace and beauty.

"Benedict," you murmured, your voice laced with a hint of anxiety, "are you sure it's not too risky to do this here? Anyone could walk in."

He looked up from his work, his gaze tender as he regarded you. "We’ve done this before without any issues. Besides, the light in here is perfect, and you look absolutely stunning. Trust me, my love, everything will be fine."

You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Alright, but if we get caught, I'm blaming you."

He chuckled, a deep, soothing sound that always managed to calm your nerves. "Fair enough."

The room settled into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft swishing of Benedict's brush and the occasional rustle of your gown. You admired the way his brow furrowed in concentration, his hand moving with practiced ease. It was in these quiet moments that you felt closest to him, sharing a connection that went beyond words.

ust as he was about to add the finishing touches, the door to the studio burst open. Eloise Bridgerton, ever the inquisitive and outspoken sibling, strode in without a second thought.

"Benedict, have you seen—" She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she took in the scene before her. "Oh."

Benedict froze, his brush hovering in mid-air. You quickly pulled the shawl you had draped over your shoulders tighter, your cheeks flushing with mortification as you realized just how exposed you were.

"Eloise!" Benedict exclaimed, clearly flustered. "Ever heard of knocking?"

Eloise's shock quickly gave way to a mischievous grin. "I didn't realize I needed to knock in my own home. But now I see why I should."

You buried your face in your hands, feeling utterly mortified. Benedict, on the other hand, looked equally embarrassed. He set his brush down and moved to stand protectively in front of you.

"Eloise, what do you want?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"I was looking for a book," she said, still grinning. "But I suppose it can wait."

Benedict sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yes, it can. Now, if you don't mind—"

"Oh, don't worry," Eloise interrupted, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'll leave you two lovebirds to your... art."

With that, she turned on her heel and left, closing the door behind her with a soft click. You and Benedict stared at each other for a moment before you buried your face in your hands again.

"I can't believe that just happened," you groaned, your voice muffled.

Benedict gently pulled your hands away from your face, his eyes filled with concern. "I'm so sorry, my love. I should have been more careful."

"You think?" you replied, half-joking, half-serious. "I am never posing in this house again. That was mortifying."

Benedict hugged you tightly, his arms offering comfort. "I promise, next time we'll find somewhere more private. But you have to admit, it does make for a memorable story."

You couldn't help but laugh despite yourself. "I suppose so."

Later that evening, the Bridgerton family gathered for an informal dinner. The aroma of roasted meats and fresh bread filled the air, mingling with the sound of cheerful conversation and laughter. You sat beside Benedict, your hand resting comfortably on his under the table.

Eloise, ever the mischief-maker, caught your eye and winked. You felt a blush creep up your neck as you recalled the earlier incident. Benedict squeezed your hand reassuringly, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your skin.

"So, Benedict," Eloise began, her voice dripping with innocent curiosity, "how's your latest painting coming along?"

Benedict shot her a warning glance, but she merely raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the moment. "It's coming along quite well, thank you," he replied evenly.

"Oh, I'm sure it's wonderful," Daphne chimed in, not noticing the undercurrent of the conversation. "Your work is always so impressive."

"Indeed," Anthony added, his tone more serious. "You've truly found your calling, brother."

Violet Bridgerton, ever the attentive matriarch, picked up on the tension. "Benedict, dear, you should show us your latest work soon."

Eloise leaned forward, her tone light and playful. "I suppose it's easier to be passionate when you have such a... captivating subject. Isn't that right, sister?"

You nearly choked on your wine, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I—um, well..."

Benedict shot Eloise a warning look. "That's enough, Eloise."

Eloise just smiled sweetly. "I'm only saying, you must find it very inspiring."

Violet's eyes twinkled with understanding. "Eloise, that is quite enough. Perhaps you should leave your brother and his wife in peace."

Colin, always quick to join in the fun, leaned back in his chair. "I'd love to see the painting. It must be quite the masterpiece if it has caused such a stir."

yacinth, always eager to be part of any conversation, piped up. "Can we see it, Benedict? Please?"

Gregory, not to be outdone by his younger sister, added, "Yes, show us! We promise to be quiet and not interrupt next time."

You buried your face in your hands again, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "Oh my goodness," you murmured, mortified.

You truly never felt so embarrassed in your entire life.

The conversation shifted to other topics, and the rest of the family seemed unaware of the underlying tension. You couldn't help but steal glances at Benedict, admiring his composure. Despite the earlier embarrassment, you felt a deep sense of pride in being a part of his world.

After dinner, as the family dispersed, Benedict took your hand and led you outside to the garden. The night air was cool and fragrant with the scent of blooming flowers. He guided you to a secluded bench, where you both sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry about Eloise earlier," he said quietly, his eyes searching yours.

You shook your head, smiling. "It's alright, Benedict. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

He chuckled softly. "True. Still, I wish we could have more moments just for us."

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "We will. And until then, I'll cherish every second we have together, even the interrupted ones."

Benedict turned to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering. "You are my muse, my love. And I am forever grateful for you."

The moonlight cast a silvery glow over the garden, creating a perfect backdrop for the tender moment you shared. Wrapped in each other's arms, you felt an unspoken promise pass between you—a promise of love, support, and a future filled with countless more beautiful moments, whether they were stolen in secret or shared with the world.

[flwrstqr]

𓈒 ENHYPEN REACTION WHEN YOU CRY DURING AN ARGUMENT ˒

── ୨୧ enha x f!reader 𝗀enre. fluff, angst imagines, ot7 works 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽 counts . . . 1387 𝔀arning not proofread, kisses, petnames, crying, them just arguing┊DANi NOTEZ ‎⸝⸝⸝ felt a little angsty today 😈 ◞[ continue on to . . . library , request ]

! feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG ♡

HEESEUNG (이희승)

as the argument escalates, you find yourself overwhelmed and tears start streaming down your face. heeseung, who had been raising his voice in frustration, suddenly freezes. his eyes widen as he processes the sight of your tears, and it hits him that he might have been too harsh. for a moment, he stands there, stunned and silent, before his expression softens.

"oh my god," he whispers, stepping closer to you. "i'm so sorry, angel. I didn't mean to raise my voice."

he gently reaches out, his hands trembling slightly as he cups your face, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. his eyes are filled with guilt and concern, his voice quiet and soft.

"please forgive me," he continues, his voice cracking a little. "I never wanted to make you feel like this. let's talk about this calmly, okay? i love you so much, and i hate seeing you cry."

rest of the members below !!

JAY (박종성)

as the argument heats up, your emotions overflow, and you begin to cry. jay's expression shifts immediately from frustration to guilt as he sees the tears streaming down your face. his eyes soften, and he quickly steps towards you, his heart aching at the sight of your pain.

"hey, hey, don't cry, princess.." he murmurs, his voice full of regret and concern.

without hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. he holds you tightly, as if trying to shield you from the hurt he caused.

"i'm so sorry," he whispers into your hair, his voice breaking slightly. "i didn't mean to make you cry. please forgive me."

jay gently rubs your back, trying to soothe you as he continues to apologize. he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes.

"i'll do anything to make it up to you," he says softly. "i never want to see you like this because of me. let's take a moment, calm down, and talk this through, okay?"

JAKE (심재윤)

in the heat of the argument, when your tears start to fall, jake immediately realizes he's gone too far. his eyes widen, and his expression shifts from anger to intense guilt. for a moment, he's frozen, speechless as he processes the sight of your tears. his mouth opens as if to speak, but no words come out; he's too overwhelmed by guilt.

jake steps closer to you, his hands trembling slightly. He reaches out, hesitates for a second, and then gently places his hands on your shoulders. his eyes are filled with regret, and his throat tightens as he struggles to find his voice.

"i'm... i'm so sorry," he finally manages to whisper, his voice barely audible.

seeing the pain in your eyes makes it even harder for him to speak. he feels a lump in his throat. he pulls you into a tight hug, holding you as if he's afraid to let go, trying to convey his apology through his embrace.

"i'm so sorry," he repeats, his voice choked with guilt. "i didn't mean to hurt you. please... please forgive me."

SUNGHOON (박성훈)

in the middle of the argument, when your tears begin to fall, sunghoon's expression turns from frustration to shock. he freezes, his eyes wide as he tries to process what he said that made you cry. the realization hits him hard, and he feels a wave of regret wash over him.

"wait...," he murmurs, his voice suddenly soft and full of concern.

sunghoon steps closer to you, his heart aching at the sight of your tears. he hesitates for a moment, replaying his words in his mind, trying to understand how he hurt you. then, without another word, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a gentle, comforting embrace.

"i'm so sorry, baby," he whispers.

he kisses your tears away, his lips gentle against your cheeks. "i didn't mean to make you cry. please, forgive me."

Sunghoon holds you tightly, his touch tender and protective. he strokes your hair softly, continuing to kiss away your tears, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears of guilt and regret.

"i love you so much," he murmurs. "let's calm down and talk this through. i never want to hurt you like this again."

SUNOO (김선우)

as the argument intensifies and your tears start to fall, sunoo's expression shifts dramatically. he looks at you with wide eyes, immediately realizing the impact of his raised voice. his face is a mix of shock and guilt, and he quickly moves closer to you.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry," he exclaims, his voice filled with urgency and regret.

he reaches out, gently taking your hands in his, his eyes searching yours "i shouldn't have raised my voice. i'm so, so sorry. i didn't mean to upset you."

sunoo starts rambling, his words tumbling out in a rush as he tries to convey just how sorry he is. "i didn't think, i was just so frustrated, but that's no excuse. i should have been more careful with my words. please, forgive me. i never wanted to hurt you."

He pulls you into a tight hug, his embrace warm and comforting. His hands softly stroke your back as he continues to apologize, his voice gentle and sincere.

JUNGWON (양정원)

as the argument escalates and your tears begin to fall, Jungwon's expression immediately changes from frustration to shock.his eyes widen, and his heart sinks at the sight of your tears. he freezes for a moment, trying to process what just happened and feeling a surge of guilt wash over him.

"oh no, please don't cry," he whispers, stepping closer to you with a look of deep concern.

without hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. his hands gently stroke your back as he holds you tightly, his voice soft and filled with regret. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."

jungwon places tender kisses on your forehead and cheeks, trying to soothe you. "shh, it's okay. I'm here," he murmurs between kisses. "i'm really, really sorry."

he continues to hold you, rocking you gently in his arms as he apologizes. "I shouldn't have let things get this far. I never wanted to hurt you. please forgive me."

RIKI (西村力)

in the midst of the argument, when your tears start to fall, riki's eyes widen in shock. he stands there, frozen, not quite sure how to react. the sight of your tears leaves him feeling helpless and remorseful, and he struggles to find the right words or actions to make things better.

for a few moments, he's silent, just staring at you, trying to process what he's seeing and feeling. then, he tentatively steps closer, his expression softening with guilt and concern.

"Y/N?" he says quietly, his voice uncertain but sincere. "look, I'm sorry for raising my voice. I didn't mean to."

riki hesitates, then leans in and gives you a quick, gentle kiss on the lips, hoping to lift your spirits even just a little. he pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes with a mixture of apology and hope.

"i'm really sorry," he repeats, his voice more steady now. "i didn't want to make you cry. can we try to talk this out calmly?"

he reaches out, taking your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

[mya-valentine]

Hi! it's me again! I'd like to request a few genshin men/boys and most of them are my favs like at least like 14 of them😂 fluff please

I wanted to request a Diluc, Razor (it's fine if you don't do him, but I'm pretty sure he's at least 16 or 17) Xiao, Wanderer, Cyno, Al Haitham, Neuvillete, Kinich, Ororon (there's lack of Ororon love) and Dainsleif. I wanted the headcannon to be like:

their friends asking fem!reader: What do you see in him?

reader: he makes me laugh

i wanted to see this kind of headcannon for so long (i hope it's okay if i can request this much character😅)

Headcanon: He Makes Me Laugh

Diluc

At a cozy café in Mondstadt, you and your friends sit around a small table, sharing stories over steaming cups of tea. One of your friends leans in, eyebrows raised. “Diluc? Really? What do you see in him?”

You take a moment to think, a smile creeping onto your face. “He makes me laugh,” you finally reply.

Your friends exchange skeptical glances. “Diluc? The serious, brooding one? How does that even work?”

You lean back in your chair, recalling a recent night at the tavern. Diluc had been tending bar when a customer made a ridiculous drink request. With a straight face, he had leaned over to you and said, “If I serve one more ‘secret drink’ request, I might just invent a potion to erase memories of it.”

You burst into laughter, and he shot you a quick, playful smirk, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. The moment had felt electric, a fleeting glimpse of the softer side he rarely showed anyone else.

As you reminisce, you can’t help but grin, feeling warmth in your chest. “He’s got this dry wit that surprises me. You just have to know where to look.”

One friend rolls her eyes. “Okay, I can see it. But how do you get him to show it?”

You shrug playfully. “Maybe he just needs someone to break through the brooding exterior.”

Diluc, standing nearby, overhears your laughter and smirks, catching your eye with a knowing look, as if he appreciates the affection behind your words.

Razor

Your friends are gathered in your room, sprawled on the floor as you all catch up. Suddenly, one of them narrows their eyes and asks, “You’re with Razor? What do you even talk about?”

You can’t help but giggle at the question. “Oh, you have no idea. He makes me laugh!”

Your friends exchange confused looks. “Razor? The one who spends all his time with wolves?”

You nod, recalling a beautiful morning walk you took with him through Wolvendom. “The other day, we were watching the sunrise. He looked at it, wide-eyed, and said, ‘Looks like egg yolk spilled.’ And then he asked, ‘Why do people say ‘crack of dawn’? Dawn don’t break…’”

Your friends burst into laughter, imagining Razor’s serious face juxtaposed with his innocent, childlike observations.

“He’s not trying to be funny, but he has this way of looking at the world that’s just… refreshing,” you explain, a soft smile on your lips as you think about him.

One friend grins, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, I guess if you’re into that… unique perspective.”

Razor, who has been listening from the doorway, looks a bit confused but intrigued. “I like egg yolk. It is good food,” he adds earnestly, causing another round of laughter.

Xiao

In a quiet corner of Liyue Harbor, your friends sit across from you, disbelief painted on their faces. “Xiao?” one asks, incredulous. “But he’s so… intense and brooding! What do you see in him?”

You chuckle, leaning back in your chair. “He makes me laugh,” you respond, shaking your head at their expressions.

Your friends exchange skeptical glances, clearly struggling to understand how someone as serious as Xiao could ever be funny. “Seriously?” one of them challenges. “How?”

You remember a day when you and Xiao were training together on the mountain. As you stumbled over a loose rock, he caught you just in time, and without missing a beat, he said, “Are mortals always this clumsy?”

You had burst out laughing at his deadpan delivery, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “He doesn’t mean to be funny, but his honesty is refreshing,” you explain, smiling at the memory.

Your friends nod, starting to see your point. “Okay, I can see how that would be amusing.”

Just then, Xiao approaches, overhearing the conversation. He raises an eyebrow. “You laugh a lot around me. Is that good?”

You grin, meeting his gaze. “Absolutely! It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

Xiao looks slightly flustered but turns away, a hint of a smile breaking through his usual stoicism.

Wanderer

Strolling through a quiet clearing with your friends, one of them shoots you a concerned glance. “So… Wanderer? The same guy who’s known for his prickly attitude? What exactly do you see in him?”

You smirk, already used to the question. “He makes me laugh,” you say simply.

They look skeptical, one raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same guy?”

You nod, smiling at the memory of a recent encounter. Wanderer had once muttered something about the “absurdity” of people who thought they knew everything about him. He’d followed it up with, “Honestly, they know less about me than that rock does about erosion.” He’d pointed at a boulder, then turned to you, daring you to laugh. But you couldn’t help it—you cracked up, and he’d rolled his eyes, but with the faintest hint of a smile himself.

Your friends seem taken aback. “Wait, Wanderer said that?”

Just then, Wanderer appears, crossing his arms as he approaches. “Are you sharing my profound observations with these mortals?” he asks, feigning annoyance, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he glances at you.

You grin, meeting his gaze. “I can’t help it. You’re just so funny.”

He scoffs, muttering something about “annoying people,” but the faintest smile betrays him, earning a knowing look from your friends.

Cyno

After a long day, you and your friends gather at a cozy teahouse. One of them finally leans in with a curious look. “Cyno, though? Isn’t he a little… intense? What do you see in him?”

A grin spreads across your face as you think of Cyno’s well-meaning, if occasionally dreadful, sense of humor. “He makes me laugh.”

Your friends look surprised, clearly doubtful. “Cyno? Are you sure? He’s the General Mahamatra!”

You laugh at their disbelief. “Yes, that Cyno. Once, he tried to tell me a ‘joke’ about Teyvat’s elemental reactions. ‘Did you know Pyro and Hydro make steam…y results?’” You can’t help but laugh at the memory, and your friends blink at you, processing.

Then one snickers, and another gives in. “Okay, that’s actually—unintentionally funny.”

As if summoned, Cyno appears at the table. “Did I hear mention of… humor?” he asks with utmost seriousness, casting a proud look your way. “I have another one. What did the dendro traveler say to the withering zone?”

You grin knowingly, but your friends glance at each other nervously. “What?” they ask in unison.

“‘Leave it to me,’” Cyno deadpans, straight-faced. You burst out laughing, your friends struggling to hold back their smiles. Cyno raises an eyebrow, satisfied. “See? I told you humor is a valuable asset.”

Alhaitham

Gathered at the Sumeru Library, your friends can’t hide their disbelief. “Alhaitham? What do you even see in him?” one of them exclaims, shaking her head.

You grin, leaning back in your chair. “He makes me laugh.”

“Really? The stoic scholar?” they ask, bewildered.

You reminisce about a quiet evening when you found him deeply engrossed in a book. You had asked, “What’s so interesting?” He glanced up and replied, “The existential dread of characters in fiction is quite entertaining. They can’t even do anything about it.”

His deadpan delivery made you laugh, and he’d raised an eyebrow, confused by your reaction. “You find that funny?” he’d asked, genuinely perplexed, which only made you laugh harder.

Your friends start to nod, clearly amused. “Okay, maybe he has a point there.”

Alhaitham, overhearing your laughter, approaches with an amused glint in his eye. “I see you’re discussing literature. Should I be concerned?”

You shake your head, smiling. “Only if you’re worried about being funny.”

He smirks, unfazed. “Then I have nothing to worry about.”

Neuvillete

In the refined atmosphere of Fontaine’s opera house, your friends question your attachment to Neuvillette, the reserved Chief Justice. “So, what do you see in him?” one friend asks, an eyebrow raised. “Neuvillette’s so… solemn. He barely smiles.”

You chuckle, casting a glance at the grand stage. “But that’s the thing. He makes me laugh when I least expect it.”

Your friends exchange looks, clearly unconvinced. “Really? Neuvillette?”

You nod, remembering a moment from an evening much like this one. Neuvillette had been watching an opera, his typical composed expression in place, when he leaned over and whispered, “I find it curious that, despite its grandeur, this aria is about a fish lamenting her lost pond. Dramatic, isn’t it?” His understated humor and subtle wit had made you stifle a laugh, though he looked pleased with your reaction.

One friend’s eyes widen in surprise. “Wait, he actually jokes? In his own way?”

At that moment, Neuvillette arrives, having overheard the conversation. “I merely observe the world as it is,” he says with a faint, almost invisible smile. “I trust I’ve provided adequate amusement?”

You smile up at him warmly, while your friends look at each other, slowly starting to see his appeal. “Yes,” you reply, reaching for his hand. “You certainly have.”

Kinich

As you and your friends stroll through the bustling markets, one of them nudges you, raising an eyebrow. “So… Kinich? He’s got that cold, intense vibe. What do you see in him?”

You chuckle, picturing the man who, beneath his pragmatic exterior, occasionally revealed a dry, clever humor that caught you off guard. “He makes me laugh,” you reply, smiling.

Your friends blink, visibly unconvinced. “Kinich? The Kinich? The guy who talks like every word is a business contract?”

“Trust me, he’s funnier than you think.” You recall a time when you had teased him about always being so serious. He had given you a mock-stern look and said, “Seriousness is simply efficiency applied to communication. If I were to, say, laugh needlessly, it would be inefficient—unless, of course, you think I’m funny?” His tone had been deadpan, but you had caught the sparkle in his eyes, which only made you laugh harder.

One of your friends scoffs, half amused, half disbelieving. “He’s secretly funny? Now that I have to see.”

Just then, Kinich appears, drawn by the sound of laughter. He stands with his usual composed expression, his gaze steady as he glances at you. “Am I interrupting?” he asks, though his eyes linger on yours with a warmth your friends would never guess at.

“Not at all,” you reply, a mischievous smile on your lips. “We were just talking about how funny you are.”

A single brow arches, and he replies smoothly, “If efficiency in humor is what amuses you, then I suppose I’ve succeeded.”

Your friends stare, open-mouthed, as he gives a faint smile, the smallest show of his affection reserved just for you.

Ororon

Gathered in a quiet grove just outside the bustling village, your friends share stories, each of them glancing at you with barely concealed curiosity. Finally, one of them speaks up. “Ororon? Really? He’s so… unconventional. What do you see in him?”

You smile, looking down at the wildflowers in your hand. “He makes me laugh.”

They seem taken aback, sharing doubtful glances. “Ororon? But he’s so… odd. He even lives out in the woods by himself. Isn’t he a little too eccentric?”

You laugh softly, thinking of all the moments Ororon’s uniqueness had brightened your days. “Maybe. But he’s more observant than anyone I know.” You recount a day spent walking with him through the forest, where he had pointed out a bird with feathers the color of storm clouds and said, with absolute conviction, “Look at him, he’s judging us. Clearly, he’s unimpressed with our lack of feathers.” You’d laughed, and he had given you a small, playful smile.

One friend smirks, shaking their head. “You actually find him funny?”

Before you can answer, Ororon appears, emerging from the trees with his usual easygoing stride. “Are we discussing birds?” he asks, his expression calm as he settles beside you. “I could have sworn I saw a bird earlier that looked particularly snobbish. Perhaps it’s you it dislikes.”

You laugh, reaching for his hand as your friends chuckle, finally starting to understand his strange charm. “Exactly,” you say, giving his hand a squeeze.

Ororon gives a satisfied hum, his eyes meeting yours. “See? Nature understands us well.” And in that moment, your friends see how the quiet humor of this eccentric man makes him so dear to you.

Sitting on a rooftop overlooking the stars, your friends are still trying to wrap their heads around your choice. “Dainsleif? Really? What do you see in him?” one asks skeptically.

Dainsleif

You smile softly, reflecting on your experiences. “He makes me laugh.”

Your friends look puzzled. “But he’s so serious and mysterious!”

You recall a late night when you were stargazing together. He had shared tales of his travels and then abruptly said, “In the end, I find that stars are just like people. Some are bright, some are dim, and some are just… lost.” Then, after a pause, he added with a straight face, “But at least they all shine, even if it’s just for a moment.”

You had burst into laughter at his unexpected metaphor, and he’d turned to you, a hint of confusion in his eyes as he asked, “Is that amusing?”

You nod, a warm smile on your face. “Yes! It’s all about perspective with you.”

Your friends nod, starting to see the appeal. “Okay, that’s a bit poetic.”

Dainsleif, overhearing the conversation, walks over with an amused look. “If my musings provide amusement, then perhaps I should share more.”

You grin. “Please do! We could all use a little more humor.”

.

.

.

Masterlist

[hoshifighting]

Urban Hearts, Rural Souls

"Never had it this good before, huh?" he teased, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he watched you squirm beneath him. "And what about those boys from your city?" he taunted. "Do they fuck you this good? Huh?"

— Synopsis: Where you are a Rich Girl abruptly sent to the countryside by your worried parents, there, you meet Mingyu, the farmer's son, who introduces you to something that defies the shallow trappings of city living. — WC: 10.6k — WARNINGS: Smut, angst, fluff, oral (f. and m. receiving), intense sex, crying, dirty talk, cum eating, g'spot stimulation, wet pussy and etc. — Reader! Rich Spoiled Girl X Farmer! Mingyu

Wrapped in designer clothes from head to toe, strutting around in those expensive heels like you owned the world. And maybe you did, in a way.  You were the kind of girl who had it all – overpriced clothes hanging in your closet like trophies, expensive cars parked in the driveway like shiny jewels, and a life filled to the brim with luxury. Your every whim was catered to, your desires instantly fulfilled with the swipe of a credit card.

But behind all the glitz and glamour, there was a gnawing emptiness that even the shiniest baubles couldn't fill. Your parents, bless their worried hearts, watched from the sidelines, knowing they had a hand in creating this materialistic monster. They'd given you everything you ever wanted, but maybe they didn't realize they were also giving you a one-way ticket to blindness.

You were always craving the next big thing, the newest gadget, the trendiest outfit. But in your quest for more, you lost sight of what truly mattered. Genuine connections, simple pleasures, the beauty of a sunset—those things seemed to fade into the background against the allure of luxury.

Your parents, busy with their own pursuits of wealth and success, rarely saw you at home. They provided you with everything money could buy, but as time passed, they began to realize that they had unwittingly traded your presence for material possessions.

"Sorry, I can't go to this dinner, I already promised my friend that I would club with her tonight," you said, leaving the keys of a Porsche in your hands, closing the door.

"Sorry, I'm going shopping today," you said, looking at yourself in the mirror, leaving and closing the door again.

"Sorry, I'm going to hang out with Jisoo today," you said, once more leaving the keys of a Porsche in your hands, closing the door.

Your parents tried to intervene, gently nudging you towards a more meaningful existence. But you brushed off their concerns, too wrapped up in your own world of excess to see the wisdom in their words. After all, why settle for less when you could have it all?

Yet, deep down, a small voice whispered that maybe there was more to life than the next shopping spree or exclusive event. Maybe true happiness wasn't found in the gleam of a diamond or the purr of a sports car engine.

There you were, lounging by the pool with your phone in hand, completely engrossed in the digital medias. The sun beat down, casting shimmering reflections on the water's surface as you scrolled and tapped away, oblivious to everything else around you.

Suddenly, your mom emerged from the doorway, her expression serious yet gentle as she made her way towards you. She called out your name, her voice cutting through the haze of your screen-induced trance. With a sigh, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from your phone, realizing that this was no ordinary interruption.

She explained that it was time for a chat, a real one, away from the distractions of social media and status updates. You hesitated for a moment.

Eventually, you acquiesced, dragging yourself out of the pool and wrapping a robe around your damp skin. As you followed your mom back into the house, you couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that settled in the pit of your stomach. 

You found your parents sitting at the dining table, their expressions unusually serious. With a nonchalant air, you plopped down in front of them, taking a leisurely sip of your juice.

Your dad cleared his throat, his tone carrying a weight of concern. "Sweetheart, we need to talk. Your mom and I have been growing increasingly worried about you."

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Here we go again, you thought, another lecture about how you only cared about material things.

Your mom chimed in, her voice gentle but firm. "We know you might not like what we have to say, but we truly believe it's for the best."

You raised an eyebrow, already anticipating the worst. "Let me guess, you're cutting off my credit cards?"

Your dad let out a humorless scoff. "As tempting as that may sound, no. But we have decided that it's time for you to take a break from this lifestyle. You need to step back and reassess what truly matters in life."

You couldn't help but scoff, the corners of your mouth twisting into a mocking smile. "Let me guess, you're sending me to some remote island resort to 'find myself'?"

Your parents exchanged a glance before your dad spoke again, his tone grave. "Actually, we've arranged for you to spend some time in the countryside. In the home of some dear friends of ours. It'll be a chance for you to unwind, disconnect, and maybe gain some perspective."

You leaned back in your chair, disbelief written all over your face. "You've got to be kidding me. You're seriously sending me to some rustic farm in the middle of nowhere?"

But as you looked into their unwavering gazes, you realized they weren't joking. They were dead serious about this. And suddenly, the prospect of trading designer labels for mud-stained boots didn't seem so far-fetched after all.

Your dad's words hit you like a ton of bricks. "Wait, you're telling me you didn't even mention this earlier?" you exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief. "This has to be some kind of joke, right? You can tell me now."

But before your dad could respond, his phone rang, interrupting the conversation. As he answered, you stood there dumbfounded, watching him hurriedly talk to the person on the other end.

"Oh hello, yes yes, she's traveling today. She's getting ready. Thank you so much, Mr. Kim," your dad said into the phone before hanging up.

You felt a rush of panic as reality set in. They were serious. You were really being whisked away to some countryside retreat without so much as a warning.

Rushing to your room, you flung open your largest suitcase, hastily stuffing it with your best clothes, your mind still reeling from the sudden turn of events. Designer dresses and high heels made way for practical boots and sturdy jackets, a stark departure from your usual wardrobe.

You barely had time to indulge in one last comforting soak in your oversized tub before the reality of the situation hit you like a splash of cold water. Sitting on the couch, arms crossed, your suitcase stood by your side like a silent sentinel.

Despite your indignation and discomfort with the whole situation, you knew deep down that your parents only wanted what was best for you. But seriously, how did they think this was a good idea? Just the thought of mosquitoes made you shiver involuntarily.

As you heard the honk from the driveway, you begrudgingly grabbed your suitcase and followed your parents to the door. Stepping outside, you were met with a man who greeted you with a warm smile, remarking on how much you had grown. He was the friend of your father, the same one you had seen in old family photos.

Despite your lingering resentment, you treated him with the utmost politeness. After all, he was just following your parents' instructions, and he seemed genuinely kind.

Your parents bid you farewell, their seriousness about the whole ordeal evident in their expressions. But before you could climb into the car, your mom stopped you, snatching your phone from your hands. You scoffed incredulously, "What, no phone too?"

She simply nodded, stating matter-of-factly, "There's no internet anyway."

With a frustrated sigh, you allowed yourself to be pushed into the car, the middle-aged man already taking your suitcase and stowing it in the trunk. As the car pulled away from the driveway, you couldn't help but wonder what kind of wilderness adventure awaited you in the countryside.

As the car rolled along the winding countryside roads, Mr. Kim struck up a conversation with you, perhaps sensing your unease.

"So, your parents tell me you're not too thrilled about this little getaway," he began, his tone light and friendly.

You glanced at him, unsure of how much to reveal. "Yeah, you could say that. I'm more of a city person, you know? This whole countryside thing isn't really my scene."

He chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I figured as much. But hey, sometimes it's good to shake things up a bit, right? You might find you enjoy it more than you think."

You raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I highly doubt that."

Undeterred, he continued, asking you about your life in the city, your favorite hangouts, and the luxuries you were accustomed to. With each response, he laughed, seemingly amused by the stark contrast between your world and the one you were about to enter.

"You know," he said with a grin, "sometimes it's the unexpected experiences that end up being the most memorable. Who knows, you might discover a whole new side of yourself out here."

As the car rumbled along the road for what felt like hours, the familiar hum of the city fading into the distance, you watched as the asphalt gradually transformed into a dusty dirt road. The scenery changed from towering skyscrapers to vast expanses of green fields and rolling hills.

Finally, the car came to a stop, and the man turned to you with a smile. "Well, we're here," he announced cheerfully.

You peered out the window, taking in your surroundings. Before you stretched acres of farmland, dotted with quaint wooden buildings and surrounded by lush vegetation.

This was certainly a far cry from the luxury hotels and high-rise penthouses you were accustomed to, but there was a certain allure to its simplicity that intrigued you.

Mr. Kim gets out of the car, saying he's going to ask for help with your suitcases, and disappears into the house.

Stepping out of the car that had transported you from the city to the countryside, with a disdainful glance around, you smoothed down your summer dress and adjusted your sunglasses, attempting to shield yourself from the glaring sun.

Just as you were about to take a step forward, your designer boots caught on a loose cobblestone, and you stumbled clumsily, arms flailing wildly as you tried to regain your balance.

With a loud yelp, you crashed ungracefully into a pile of hay, your dress now adorned with specks of dirt and straw. Uttering a few curses under your breath, you began to clean yourself off, feeling thoroughly irritated by the whole debacle.

To your surprise, you heard a sincere laugh echoing from somewhere nearby. "Smooth entrance." came the amused voice.

Startled, you looked up to see a tall, muscular guy leaning against the porch, clad in a simple white tank top and worn jeans. He had the rugged look of someone who spent their days working the land, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at his false amused expression.

"Very funny," you muttered, shooting him a withering glare as you brushed off the last of the hay from your dress.

The guy smirked at your retort, "Hey, don't blame me for your lack of grace," he teased, stepping closer to you.

You crossed your arms defensively, shooting back, "Well, don't blame me for your lack of fashion sense."

He chuckled, unfazed by your jab. "Fashion sense? Please. I'd take practicality over designer labels any day."

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Easy for you to say when you probably haven't stepped foot in a city in years."

His smirk widened, and he tilted his head, challenging you. "And what's wrong with that? Country life has its perks, you know. Fresh air, wide open spaces... not to mention, real food."

You narrowed your eyes, feeling a surge of defiance. "Oh, please. I'll take a five-star restaurant over your farm-to-table nonsense any day."

With a shrug, he flashed you a knowing grin. "We'll see about that."

He furrows his eyebrows as he reaches for your suitcases, grunting slightly as he lifts them from the ground. "What the hell are you packing in here, bricks?" he mutters, struggling slightly under the weight. 

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his dramatics. With his broad shoulders and muscular arms, it was obvious he could easily handle the weight. But instead, he seemed intent on putting on a show of struggle.

As he hoisted the suitcases up, you glanced at his impressive physique, a stark contrast to your own slender frame. "Oh, I don't know," you replied casually, masking your amusement. "Maybe you're just not as strong as you think you are."

His expression darkened at your taunt, and you could practically see the steam coming out of his ears as he begrudgingly followed you towards the house. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered, his voice tinged with annoyance.

You couldn't resist a small smirk as you walked ahead, enjoying the satisfaction of getting the last word in.

As you approach the quaint farmhouse, nestled amidst the serene countryside, you're greeted by a picturesque scene straight out of a storybook. Lush greenery and vibrant foliage surround the charming abode, a small porch extends from the front of the house, its weathered floorboards worn smooth by years of use, a few well-worn rocking chairs moving with the breeze. 

You glanced around the bedroom, taking note of the meticulously prepared bed with towels neatly arranged on top. Despite your initial skepticism, it was clear that some effort had been put into making you feel welcome.

Mingyu stood beside you, his expression unreadable as he watched your reaction. For a moment, there was silence between the two of you, the air thick with tension.

Just then, Mr. Kim appeared in the doorway, a warm smile on his face. "Ah, I see you've met my son, Mingyu," he said, placing a hand on Mingyu's shoulder. "He'll be helping out around here during your stay."

Mingyu flashed you a half-hearted smile, his expression tinged with a hint of mockery. "Yeah, we had the great pleasure of meeting earlier," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. "Oh yes, it was truly unforgettable," you replied, matching his mocking tone. "I especially enjoyed the part where I ended up covered in hay."

Mr. Kim chuckled at the banter between you and his son, clearly amused by the exchange. "I'm sure you two will get along just fine," he said with a knowing smile, before leaving you to settle in.

Feeling a bit lost and unsure of what to do with yourself, you decided to head back to the living room. As you entered, you spotted Mingyu in the kitchen, busy mixing something on the stove, while a woman arranged antique stamped dishes on the table.

Her warm smile drew your attention, and you couldn't help but admire her grace as she went about her tasks. When she noticed your presence, she immediately set aside her cooking apron and approached you, enveloping you in a tight hug.

You returned the gesture, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you in her embrace. She introduced herself as Mrs. Kim, and her genuine compliment about your appearance made you blush, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

Before you could respond, you caught Mingyu's glance from across the room. When your eyes met his, he quickly looked away, returning his focus to the task at hand.

Feeling a bit flustered by the unexpected attention, you cleared your throat and glanced around the room, searching for something to say. "Thank you, Mrs. Kim" 

Ah, but you missed your 16-seat table. Your silvered forks and knives…

She beamed at your words, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Oh, it's nothing, dear. Just a simple meal to welcome you to our home," she said warmly, patting your arm affectionately.

Despite your initial frustration and discomfort with the abrupt change in scenery and the unfamiliar accents surrounding you, you couldn't deny the genuine warmth and hospitality of the Kims. As you observed Mrs. Kim bustling around the kitchen and Mingyu's earnest efforts to make you feel welcome, a sense of guilt began to gnaw at you.

As Mrs. Kim served you a plate of food, you couldn't help but feel a bit overwhelmed by the array of dishes laid out before you. Unsure of what to pick, you glanced around nervously, feeling the weight of everyone's expectant gazes upon you.

Taking a tentative first bite, the food was simple yet bursting with deliciousness, each bite infused with a warmth and comfort that you hadn't realized you were craving.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you savored the food, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "Wow, this is really good," you exclaimed, unable to hide your delight.

The Kims exchanged knowing glances, their smiles widening at your enthusiastic reaction. It was clear that they were pleased to see you enjoying their home-cooked meal.

As you continued to eat, you found yourself digging in with gusto, savoring every bite as if it were the most delicious thing you had ever tasted. It was a stark contrast to the fast food and gourmet dishes you were accustomed to in the city, and yet, there was something undeniably special about this homemade meal made with love.

Mingyu and his dad shared subtle, satisfied smiles, their eyes twinkling with amusement as they watched you devouring the food with such enthusiasm. It was clear that they were pleased to see you embracing their culinary traditions and finding joy in the simple pleasures, for the first time? 

As you rolled up your sleeves and began to help with the dishes, Mingyu appeared at your side with a teasing smirk. "Well, I'm surprised to see you know how to wash a plate," he remarked, his tone laced with playful incredulity.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his playful jab. "Oh, please. It's not like I've never washed a dish before," you retorted, scrubbing a plate with more force than necessary.

Mingyu chuckled at your defensive tone, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'm just surprised, is all. Figured someone with nails as pristine as yours would be afraid to get them dirty," he teased, gesturing to your perfectly manicured hands.

You shot him a pointed look, a hint of irritation creeping into your voice. "My nails will be just fine, thank you very much." you replied curtly.

After finishing up with the dishes, you managed to steal a quiet moment for yourself. Making your way to the bathroom, you were pleasantly surprised to find that there was hot water available, despite being in the midst of a countryside farm. And as you drifted off to sleep, the sound of crickets chirping outside lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

As the sun streamed through the window, bathing the room in a warm glow, you slowly stirred from your sleep, feeling more refreshed than you had in ages. The sound of a rooster crowing in the distance filled the air, a gentle reminder that you were far from the hustle and bustle of city life.

Just as you were about to stretch, you heard a familiar voice at your door. Groaning inwardly, you sat up, blinking away the remnants of sleep as you focused on the figure standing in the doorway.

There stood Mingyu, holding a pair of buckets in his hands. "Hey, sleepyhead," he called out, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Time to rise and shine. We've got a cow to milk."

You blinked in disbelief, your mind struggling to process the request. Milk a cow? Surely he must be joking. But as you glanced out the window and saw the sun rising higher in the sky, and the way he stood at the door, you realized that he was serious.

With a resigned sigh, you pushed back the covers and swung your legs over the side of the bed, steeling yourself for the unfamiliar task ahead. 

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Mingyu's teasing remark as he caressed the cow with practiced ease. "Yeah, well, I figured I'd take precautions after yesterday's little incident," you retorted, gesturing to your brightly colored galoshes.

Mingyu chuckled at your response, shaking his head in amusement. "Fair enough," he conceded, his eyes twinkling with laughter. "But I've got to admit, you look a bit out of place here on the farm."

You huffed indignantly, feeling a pang of annoyance at his comment. "And what exactly am I supposed to look like?" you shot back, crossing your arms defensively. "Peppa Pig jumping in muddy puddles?"

Mingyu's laughter rang out loud and clear, the sound echoing through the barn as he shook his head incredulously. "Hey, I'm just saying, those boots aren't exactly farm chic," he replied, unable to hide his amusement.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again, instead choosing to focus on the task at hand. As Mingyu nodded towards the bucket under the cow and the small stool nearby, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the challenge ahead.

As you continued to milk the cow with gentle, tentative strokes, Mingyu couldn't help but chuckle at your cautious approach. "If you keep going at this pace, we'll be here until evening," he teased, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

You couldn't help but sulk at his teasing, feeling a pang of self-doubt creeping in. "I'm just afraid of hurting her," you admitted softly, glancing down at the cow's udders with concern.

Mingyu rolled his eyes playfully, squatting down behind you and gently taking your hands in his. "Here, let me show you," he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he guided your movements.

As his warm hands enveloped yours, you felt a jolt of electricity shoot through you, you couldn't help but be drawn to the way his chest pressed against your back, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered instructions. Lost in the sensation of his touch, you found yourself forgetting about the task at hand, your focus shifting entirely to him. 

"See? It's not so hard, is it?" Mingyu's voice broke through your thoughts, his tone gentle and encouraging.

Oh, it sure is, with those arms around you.

You nodded slowly, still feeling a bit flustered by the unexpected closeness between you. "Yeah, I guess not."

As you watched the chickens with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, unable to find the words to express your uncertainty.

Noticing your hesitation, Mingyu couldn't help but chuckle at your predicament. "Looks like it's time to collect some eggs," he remarked, gesturing towards the coop with a smirk.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the task ahead and stepped into the coop, determined to prove that you were capable of handling farm chores. But as soon as you entered, the chickens seemed to sense your unease and began to peck at your legs and feet, their sharp beaks causing you to yelp in surprise.

Jumping back in alarm, you flailed your arms wildly, trying to fend off the feathery assailants as Mingyu looked on, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, that's one way to get the eggs," he quipped, unable to suppress his laughter at your antics.

Feeling flustered and more than a little embarrassed, you quickly retreated from the coop, shooting Mingyu a sheepish look. "I think I'll leave the egg collecting to the experts," you muttered, feeling defeated.

Mingyu grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he watched you dust yourself off. "Don't worry, princess, I'll take care of it," he teased, reaching for the basket and heading towards the coop with a knowing smirk.

Mingyu couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of you sprawled out on the sofa, your face flushed from the sun and your body looking utterly exhausted. His mom joined in with a soft giggle, amused by your worn-out appearance.

"Looks like someone had quite the day," Mingyu remarked with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he observed you from across the room.

You let out a tired groan, your limbs feeling heavy and your muscles aching from the day's activities. "I feel like I've run a marathon," you admitted with a weary smile, unable to hide the exhaustion in your voice.

Mingyu's mom nodded in understanding, her eyes filled with warmth and affection as she looked at you. "It takes some getting used to, but you'll adjust," she reassured you, her voice gentle and reassuring.

Mingyu flashed you a reassuring smile, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of admiration. "Yeah, you'll get used to it," he echoed, his voice soft and reassuring.

As you lay on the sofa, your mind drifted to thoughts of your friends back in the city. You could already imagine their laughter and teasing when they heard about your countryside misadventures.

The image of them laughing at the idea of you "touching cow's tits" made you cringe, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment at the thought of being the subject of their jokes. And the mental image of you being chased by chickens while wearing bright yellow galoshes instead of your usual designer boots was almost too much to bear.

As you stood face to face with the towering horse, a surge of determination coursed through you. You were determined to prove to Mingyu that you were capable of handling any challenge that came your way, no matter how unfamiliar or daunting.

With a defiant glare, you met Mingyu's gaze head-on, refusing to back down from the challenge before you. "Did you know that horseback riding is expensive enough for me to know?" you retorted, your voice laced with confidence.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow at your defiant remark, his hands on his hips as he regarded you with a mixture of amusement and skepticism. "Is this a dare?" he asked, a hint of challenge in his tone.

You smirked, your eyes gleaming with determination. "It's not a dare if I'm going to win," you replied boldly, your confidence unwavering.

Mingyu chuckled at your bravado, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, we'll see about that," he replied with a smirk of his own. "But I'll have you know, a farmer can ride way better than a rich girly who did hipstism."

As you settled into the saddle and urged the horse forward, you felt a surge of exhilaration coursing through your veins. With each powerful stride of the horse beneath you, you felt a sense of connection and freedom unlike anything you had ever experienced.

Glancing back at Mingyu, who was hot on your heels, you couldn't help but smirk at the competitive gleam in his eye. With a determined flick of the reins, you urged your horse to pick up the pace, the wind whipping through your hair as you galloped across the long field.

Feeling the rhythm of the horse's movements beneath you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration as you rode faster and faster, the thrill of the chase driving you forward.

But as you approached the towering mount of straw ahead, Mingyu's voice rang out behind you, announcing the end of the race. "This is it!" he shouted, his voice carrying over the wind.

You turned to face him with a confident smile, your eyes sparkling with determination. "Bet," you replied, your voice filled with certainty as you prepared to take on the challenge ahead.

s you crossed the finish line first, a victorious grin spread across your face. You patted the horse affectionately, thanking it for its speed and cooperation, a playful twinkle in your eye as if expecting a response from the animal.

Mingyu appeared right behind you, his expression a mixture of surprise and begrudging admiration. He glanced at you, clearly not wanting to give the impression that he was impressed, but failing miserably.

You couldn't help but laugh at his unsuccessfully concealed expression, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Looks like I win," you teased, unable to resist the opportunity to gloat a little.

Mingyu rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Beginner's luck," he muttered, trying to brush off his defeat with a nonchalant shrug.

But you could see through his facade, and you knew that deep down, he was impressed by your riding skills. "Sure, keep telling yourself that," you replied with a playful wink, reveling in your victory.

As the days turned into weeks, Mingyu and his parents couldn't help but notice a change in you. At first, they were surprised by your transformation. They had expected you to grow restless and bored, eager to return to the comforts of city life. But instead, they watched in awe as you flourished in your new surroundings.

While you may have initially viewed your newfound chores as a means to an end, a way to expedite your return to the comforts of home, you couldn't deny the genuine joy and fulfillment you experienced in caring for the animals and immersing yourself in farm activities.

With each passing day, as you spent more time in the stable and the fields, you discovered a sense of peace and contentment that you had never known before. 

Whenever Mingyu's parents were away in the center of the countryside, Mingyu took it upon himself to keep you entertained and engaged, determined to show you the lighter side of farm life and ensure that you didn't find the countryside boring.

Sometimes, he would teach you how to fish in the nearby stream, laughing as you fumbled with the bait and giggling as you shrieked with delight whenever you felt a tug on the line. From impromptu horseback races across the fields to makeshift picnics under the shade of a sprawling oak tree, Mingyu made sure that there was never a dull moment when you were together.

As the rain poured down outside, Mingyu looked at you with a mischievous grin, his eyes dancing with excitement. "Hey, since we're stuck inside anyway, how about we play a game of hide and seek?" he suggested, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise at his suggestion. Hide and seek? Wasn't that a game for children? You hadn't played it in years, not since you were a kid back in the city.

"But isn't that game a bit... childish?" you asked, your tone laced with skepticism. After all, hide and seek seemed like such a simple and silly game, hardly befitting someone of your age and sophistication.

Mingyu laughed at your hesitation, shaking his head in amusement. "Come on, it'll be fun! Besides, it's not like we have anything else to do while we're stuck inside," he replied, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you wanted to indulge in such a childish pastime. But as you glanced out the window at the dreary weather outside, you couldn't help but feel a spark of curiosity and excitement at the prospect of a little indoor adventure.

With a reluctant smile, you finally relented, nodding your head in agreement. "Alright, fine. But you owe me if I end up getting bored," you teased, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice.

Mingyu grinned at your acceptance, his eyes alight with excitement. "Deal," he replied.

As Mingyu's voice counted down from ten, you dashed around the house, your heart racing with excitement as you searched for the perfect hiding spot. His laughter echoed through the halls as he called out the numbers, his anticipation building with each passing moment.

Finally, you found it—a small space between the wardrobe and the wall in your room. It seemed like the perfect hiding spot, tucked away from sight with just enough room for you to squeeze into. With a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure no one was watching, you darted into the hiding place and pressed your back against the wall, your heart pounding with excitement.

As you waited in the darkness, the sound of Mingyu's footsteps grew closer, his laughter echoing through the room as he searched for you. You held your breath, trying to stifle the giggles threatening to escape as his footsteps drew nearer and nearer.

Suddenly, you heard a soft gasp as Mingyu's hand brushed against the wardrobe, his fingers grazing the edge of your hiding spot. Your heart skipped a beat as you held your breath, hoping he wouldn't find you.

As Mingyu's hand brushed against your shoulder and his fingers wrapped around your arm, pulling you out of your hiding place, you couldn't help but let out a startled gasp as your body collided with his. His laughter filled the room, echoing in the darkness, but you couldn't find it in you to join in.

"Sulking again, huh?" Mingyu teased, his voice warm and playful as he wrapped his other arm around you, pulling you close. 

You rolled your eyes in response, trying to hide the smile that threatened to tug at your lips despite your best efforts to maintain your facade of annoyance. "I don't sulk," you protested weakly, but even to your own ears, the protest sounded half-hearted.

Mingyu chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through the room as he held you close. "Sure you don't," he replied, his tone teasing but affectionate. 

Suddenly, you felt his hands on your face, his fingers tracing your features with a gentle touch that made your heart race. In the darkness, his touch seemed to intensify, his caress becoming more intimate as he explored the contours of your face with a tenderness that took your breath away.

As Mingyu's lips met yours, time seemed to stand still, the world falling away as you melted into his embrace. His lips were soft and warm against yours, sending a thrill of electricity coursing through your veins as he pressed your back against the wardrobe, his hand pulling you closer by your waist.

With a soft moan, you found yourself responding eagerly to his touch, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. Mingyu groaned against your lips, the sound sending a shiver of pleasure down your cunt as his tongue danced with yours.

As Mingyu's lips trailed down to your neck, igniting a trail of fire with each kiss, you couldn't help but moan softly, your body arching towards him in response to the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

"M-Mingyu…"

"I can feel how much you want me," he continued, his voice low and seductive. "You're practically melting against me, begging for my touch."

His words sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure of his touch.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that matched your own. As he pressed his body against yours, you could feel the heat radiating from him, the intensity of his desire burning bright in the darkness.

As his fingers brushed against your hardened nipple through your top, you couldn't help but let out a soft gasp of pleasure, the sensation sending waves of heat coursing through you.

Feeling your reaction, Mingyu hissed in response, his desire evident in the husky tone of his voice. "I need to see you," he murmured urgently, his hands moving to lift your top, his fingers tracing the contours of your body in the darkness. "This darkness isn't helping."

With a nod of understanding, you waited patiently as he disappeared into the darkness, the anticipation building with each passing moment. And then, just as suddenly as he had left, he reappeared with two lanterns, the warm glow casting a soft light over the room.

And there you were, already naked and sitting on the bed, your body bathed in the soft light of the lanterns. Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise, a low hum of appreciation escaping his lips as he took in the sight before him.

"You're naughty," he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he approached you slowly. The warmth of the lanterns illuminated every curve and contour of your body, casting a mesmerizing glow that left him spellbound.

As the room filled with light, you couldn't help but catch your breath at the sight of Mingyu standing before you, his features illuminated in the golden glow of the lanterns. His eyes burned with desire as he looked at you, his gaze traveling over your body with hunger and longing.

With a soft smile, he stepped closer, the warmth of the lanterns enveloping you both. "Now I can see every inch of you," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. 

s Mingyu's hands deftly removed his shirt, tossing it aside with a casual flick of his wrist, your eyes were drawn to the sight of his toned, muscular body illuminated by the warm glow of the lanterns. His hard work and dedication were evident in the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin, sending a shiver of desire coursing through you.

Instinctively, your legs pressed together, the heat pooling between them as you felt the unmistakable arousal building within you. Mingyu's presence was intoxicating, his sheer physicality leaving you breathless and eager for more.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, you reached out to him, your hands tracing the contours of his chest and abdomen with a hungry urgency. His skin was warm beneath your touch, his muscles firm and taut as you explored every inch of him with a sense of wonder and reverence.

As your fingers trailed lower, tracing the outline of his hardened arousal, a low groan escaped Mingyu's lips, his desire mirroring your own.

As you untangled his belt and lowered his jeans, your desperation was palpable, your need for him evident in every movement. Mingyu watched you with a knowing smile, his lip caught between his teeth as he observed your eagerness.

With a sense of anticipation building between you, you got down on your knees before him, your eyes pleading as you lowered his underwear, revealing his thick, pulsing cock. It lay heavy on your face, the weight of it sending a thrill of excitement coursing through you.

Mingyu's breath caught in his throat as he watched you, his desire growing with each passing moment. "That's it, baby," he murmured huskily, his voice thick with lust. "Show me how much you want it."

With a slow, provocative motion, you began to suck on the tip of his cock, teasing him with your tongue as you savored the taste of him on your lips. Mingyu groaned in pleasure, his hands tangling in your hair as he urged you on.

But then, with a sudden shift in his demeanor, Mingyu's voice took on a commanding tone. "Enough teasing," he growled, his gaze dark with desire. "I want you to suck it, all of it. Show me how good you can make me feel."

As you obediently lowered your head, taking all of Mingyu's length into your mouth, you could feel him groaning in pleasure above you. His hands tightened in your hair, gripping it firmly as if he were holding onto reins, his fingers wrapping around your locks like a lasso.

With each deep thrust, he urged you on, his voice thick with desire as he commanded you to take him deeper. "That's it," he moaned, the sound reverberating through your body as you continued to obey his every whim. "Just like that, baby, all the way in."

As you relaxed your jaw, allowing Mingyu's thick cock to press against the back of your throat, a wave of pleasure surged through him, causing his knees to falter for a moment. But you remained steadfast, your determination unwavering as you held your breath and took him deeper, allowing him to penetrate you fully.

Mingyu's grip on your hair tightened as he let out a guttural groan of pleasure, his hips bucking involuntarily as he was overcome by the intense sensation of your throat enveloping him. The feeling of your warm, wet mouth engulfing him completely sent waves of ecstasy coursing through his body, igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume him whole.

With each deep thrust, he felt himself losing control, his desire mounting to dizzying heights as he surrendered himself completely to the overwhelming pleasure of the moment. And as you continued to take him deeper, your throat accommodating his girth with ease, he knew that he was on the brink of an explosion unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

As Mingyu pulled on the lasso of your hair, halting just before he reached his climax, you let out a whimper of anticipation, your body trembling with need. He pulled you up and pushed you onto the bed, spreading your legs apart as he positioned himself between them. Your ass lifted off the bed, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you waited for his next move.

With a hungry look in his eyes, Mingyu dropped to his knees before you, his tongue darting out to lick a fat stripe along your slit. A moan escaped your lips as pleasure shot through you, your body arching off the bed in response. "Mmm... yes," you murmured, the sensation overwhelming as he continued to lap at your pussy with fervent eagerness.

Mingyu cooed softly as he tasted you, his tongue exploring every inch of your wetness with a skillful precision that left you dizzy with pleasure. "You taste so good," he whispered, his voice low and husky as he lavished attention on your sensitive folds. 

As Mingyu sucked on your clit, bobbing his head with a fervent eagerness that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, you couldn't help but moan loudly, the sensation overwhelming you completely. "Ohh... yesss," you cried out, your voice filled with unrestrained passion as he worked his magic on you.

He held back a smirk as he felt your cunt throbbing with the approach of your orgasm, knowing that he had you right where he wanted you. With a wicked grin, he doubled down on his efforts, sucking your whole pussy hard, his tongue lapping at your juices with an insatiable hunger.

The intensity of his ministrations pushed you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure as the orgasm washed over you with a force that left you breathless. Mingyu smiled triumphantly as he felt you come embarrassingly fast, your moans filling the room with the sweet sound of your pleasure.

As Mingyu laid you down properly on the bed, he gazed into your eyes with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. His voice was low and husky as he asked how much you wanted him to fuck you, and you could barely think straight, your mind clouded with desire.

With your orgasm still pulsing through your body, you almost drunkenly replied that you wanted him a lot, your words slurred with pleasure. Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he heard your response, his eyes smoldering with lust as he leaned in closer.

"And how much do you want this farmer to fuck you?" he murmured, his voice dripping with desire as he teased you with his words. The hint of his country accent sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through you, your body quivering with need.

You rolled your hips instinctively, searching for his cock, your movements desperate and needy. Mingyu chuckled softly at your eagerness, his hands roaming over your body possessively as he continued to taunt you with his dirty talk.

With a whimper of desire, you opened your mouth in an "o" of longing, unable to resist the overwhelming urge to feel him deep inside you. "A lot," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "I want it... a lot... please..."

Mingyu's cock lay heavy against your belly, the sight of it making your breath catch in your throat. He looked at you with a wicked grin, his eyes burning with desire as he teased you with the promise of what was to come.

"Do you want my cock right here?" he murmured huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Inside of this pretty little pussy of yours?"

You could only nod eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation as you gazed up at him with lust-filled eyes. "Yes," you whispered breathlessly, your voice barely above a moan. "Please, Mingyu... I need it... I need you inside me..."

Mingyu's grin widened at your response, his desire reaching a fever pitch as he positioned himself between your legs, ready to claim you as his own. With a primal growl, he pushed himself inside you, filling you completely with his throbbing cock as you cried out in ecstasy.

As Mingyu kissed you with a hunger that matched your own, you cried out in pleasure, feeling your pussy clenching tighter around his throbbing cock with each thrust. Your hands roamed over his back, feeling every ridge and muscle beneath his skin as he moved with a primal intensity that drove you wild with desire.

Suddenly, he took his cock out and pushed back inside you with all his force, causing your head to be thrown back in ecstasy. The sensation of him filling you so completely, stretching you to your limits, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.

Mingyu's gaze locked with yours, his eyes boring into your soul as tears streamed down your cheeks, your body trembling with the intensity of his thrusts. He leaned in close, his voice low and husky as he whispered filthy words that sent shivers down your spine.

"You like that, don't you?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he continued to pound into you with relentless force. "You like feeling my cock splitting you in half, don't you, baby?"

You could only whimper in response, your pussy clenching tightly around him at his words, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through both of you. Mingyu stuttered for a moment, surprised by the intensity of your reaction, before letting out a low chuckle.

"Never had it this good before, huh?" he teased, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he watched you squirm beneath him. "And what about those boys from your city?" he taunted. "Do they fuck you this good? Huh?"

You shook your head vehemently, your legs trembling around his waist as you cried out in pleasure. "No," you screamed, the word torn from your lips in a primal moan. "They don't... ah!"

Mingyu grinned triumphantly at your response, his own pleasure mounting to dizzying heights as he continued to drive you wild with desire. With each powerful thrust, he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, determined to show you just how good it could be with a real man like him.

As Mingyu's cock pounded into you relentlessly, a white ring formed around his shaft, evidence of your overwhelming arousal. He looked down at you with a smirk, his voice low and husky as he taunted you with his words.

"Can you hear how wet you are, baby?" he murmured, his breath hot against your skin as he leaned in closer. "You're practically dripping for me."

You blushed furiously at his words, feeling a surge of embarrassment wash over you at the realization of just how turned on you were. But despite your embarrassment, you couldn't deny the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins, driving you to new heights of ecstasy with each thrust.

You bit your lip nervously, unable to form a coherent response as Mingyu's cock continued to pound into you with relentless determination. Your back arched involuntarily, your body betraying you with its desperate need for more.

Mingyu's hips plunged deep into you, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as you jolted, desperately reaching for his hand. He chuckled softly, his voice dripping with amusement as he teased you mercilessly.

"Oh, looks like I found it," he taunted, his thrusts growing harder and more relentless with each passing moment. "Right here... and here again. Is this where you want me, baby?"

You could only whimper in response, your mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure of his touch. "I-I'm going to cum," you gasped, your voice thick with desire as your orgasm approached with dizzying speed.

Mingyu's hand tightened around yours, providing you with an anchor to hold onto as he continued to pound into you with an intensity that left you breathless. His hips worked deep against your G-spot, driving you closer and closer to the edge with each thrust.

"Come for me, baby," he whispered huskily, his voice laced with desire as he urged you on. "I want to feel you cumming around me."

As Mingyu noticed the way you tensed hard and squeezed his hand tightly, he could feel the intensity building within you. "You're going to cum so hard for me, baby"

And then, as if on cue, you let go, your body convulsing with the force of the orgasm that tore through you. Mingyu watched in awe as you came apart in his arms, your screams filling the room as you lost yourself completely to the pleasure.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice hoarse with desire as he drank in the sight of you, your body trembling with ecstasy as you rode out the waves of pleasure. He didn't want to blink, didn't want to miss a single moment of the beautiful sight before him.

As your body finally relaxed, Mingyu withdrew himself from your swollen, sopping cunt. You looked up at him with a lazy smile, feeling completely satisfied but still hungry for more.

"Did you cum?" you asked, your voice laced with anticipation as you waited for his response.

Mingyu hesitated for a moment, but before he could answer, you cut him off with a mischievous grin, sticking your tongue out of your mouth playfully.

"Don't worry about that," he began, but you interrupted him, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you pleaded with him to cum for you.

"Come on, Mingyu," you urged, your voice dripping with desire. "I want to see you cum. I want to taste you on my tongue."

Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise at your boldness, but a wicked grin spread across his face as he realized just how much you wanted him. With a low growl of desire, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered his response.

"You're insatiable, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "But I like it. I like it a lot."

As Mingyu gently arranged your hair, he positioned himself so that his cock was within reach of your mouth. You eagerly complied, your saliva mixed with your own lubrication serving as the perfect medium for him to stroke his throbbing cock.

With his heavy tip resting on your tongue, you felt the anticipation building within you once again. Your lips parted as you watched him with hungry eyes, eager to taste him once more.

Mingyu groaned softly as he began to masturbate his cock, the sensation of your tongue and lips against his sensitive skin driving him crazy. With each stroke, he grew harder and thicker in your mouth, his arousal evident in the way his cock throbbed against your tongue.

You moaned softly around him, the vibrations sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body as he continued to pleasure himself with your eager mouth. And as his release approached, Mingyu's movements grew more urgent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he edged closer and closer to the brink.

Finally, with a low growl of pleasure, Mingyu reached the point of no return, his cock pulsating as he spilled his hot cum onto your waiting tongue. You eagerly swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.

"I'm feeling so good," you murmur, a contented smile gracing your lips as you lay beside Mingyu.

"Do you?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with tenderness as he gazes at you.

You nod, feeling a warmth spreading through your body at his gentle touch. Mingyu brushes your hair away from your face, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin as he lays on his side, his eyes fixed on you with a look of adoration.

"Yeah," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet his gaze. "I feel amazing."

Mingyu smiles, his expression filled with affection as he leans in closer, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. The atmosphere feels incredibly comfortable, more intimate and peaceful than ever before.

You blinked, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains as you slowly roused from sleep, only to find yourself alone in bed. The warmth of Mingyu's big body, which had been so comforting throughout the night, was noticeably absent, leaving you with a sense of emptiness.

As you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling that the events of the previous night had been nothing more than a dream. But then, just as doubt began to creep in, the door swung open, and there stood Mingyu, shirtless and wearing only jeans, a tray of breakfast in his hands.

He flashed you a warm smile as he entered the room, the sight of him banishing any lingering doubts from your mind. "Good morning," he greeted you, his voice soft and filled with affection.

"Good morning," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched him approach. The sight of him, shirtless and bearing breakfast, made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth spread through you at the sight of him.

Mingyu set the tray down on the bedside table before climbing back into bed beside you, his warmth enveloping you once more. As you sat together, enjoying breakfast in each other's company.

In the middle of the afternoon, you was alone in your bedroom, Mrs. Kim appears with her phone, it was your parents, wanting to talk to you. You take the phone from Mrs. Kim with trembling hands, your heart racing with anticipation as you retreat to a secluded corner of the house. With bated breath, you answer the call, hoping against hope that it's your parents finally coming to rescue you from this unfamiliar place.

"Hello?" you say tentatively, the sound of your own voice echoing in your ears.

On the other end of the line, you hear your mother's voice, filled with concern and urgency. "Sweetheart, are you okay?" she asks, her tone fraught with worry.

You feel a surge of relief wash over you at the sound of her familiar voice. "Mom, it's me," you reply quickly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. "I'm okay, but I really want to come home. Can you please come get me? I need to tell you something…"

There's a moment of silence on the other end of the line before your mother responds, her voice heavy with regret. "Honey, I'm sorry, but we can't come get you right now," she says, her words hitting you like a punch to the gut. "We need you to stay there for a little while longer."

Your heart sinks at her words, the sense of disappointment threatening to overwhelm you. "But why?" you ask, your voice cracking with emotion. "I don't understand."

Before you can say anything else, you hear a click on the other end of the line, signaling that the call has ended. With a heavy heart, you lower the phone from your ear and turn around, only to find Mingyu standing there, his expression hardened and unreadable.

You swallow hard, feeling a sense of unease settle over you as you meet his gaze. "Mingyu, I..." you begin, but he cuts you off with a curt shake of his head before turning and walking out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You ran after him, your footsteps echoing in the stillness of the countryside as you desperately called out his name. But Mingyu didn't turn to look at you, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he continued walking towards the lagoon.

"Mingyu, please," you pleaded, your voice thick with emotion as you struggled to catch up to him. "Listen to me."

He finally stopped walking, but he still didn't turn to face you. Instead, he spoke with a tone of resignation, his voice heavy with disappointment. "I understand now," he said quietly. "You were just using me to pass the time until you could go home."

Your heart sank at his words, the guilt weighing heavily on your chest as tears welled up in your eyes. "No, Mingyu, that's not true," you insisted, your voice trembling with emotion.

"I... I care about you. What about yesterday? What we shared..."

But he cuts you off with a bitter laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yesterday was a mistake," he says, his words like a knife to your heart. "It doesn't change the fact that you were never really here for me. You were just biding your time until you could leave."

Your mouth hung open in shock as Mingyu's words sliced through you like a blade, leaving you reeling with hurt and disbelief. Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to comprehend his harsh accusations.

"That's mean!" you finally managed to choke out, your voice trembling with emotion. "I know I'm wrong, but you're being so mean right now!"

Mingyu's attention snapped back to you at the sound of your sobs, his heart clenching with regret as he watched the tears stream down your face. He hadn't meant to hurt you so deeply, but in his anger and frustration, his words had cut far deeper than he had intended.

For a moment, there was silence between you, the weight of Mingyu's harsh judgment hanging heavy in the air. And then, finally, you spoke again, your voice barely above a whisper.

"It was a mistake then?" you asked, your words barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing. 

Mingyu hesitates, his own emotions swirling inside him as he struggles to find the right words. "No, it wasn't a mistake," he admits quietly, his gaze softening as he meets your tear-filled eyes. "Yesterday... what we shared... it meant something to me."

Your heart races as Mingyu's words sink in, a mix of hope and confusion swirling inside you. "Then why are you saying all of this?" you ask, your voice trembling with emotion. "If it meant something to you, then why..."

Mingyu cuts you off with a heavy sigh, his gaze dropping to the ground as he struggles to find the right words. "Because it's not going to work," he admits, his voice filled with resignation. "You're going back to your expensive bags and imported cars, and I'm going to be alone."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the realization of what he's saying sending a surge of pain through your chest. "But how can you be sure that I want to go home?" you protest, desperation creeping into your voice. "You didn't even heard the whole conversation. I need to go home, yes, but not because I want to leave you. I need to go home to tell my parents, my friends, that I want to stay here."

Mingyu's shoulders sag at your words, a flicker of hope shining in his eyes. "You want to stay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Yes," you say softly. "And do you know what made up my mind?"

Mingyu's gaze searches yours, waiting for your answer.

"You did," you admit, your voice barely a whisper as you meet his gaze. "You and this life... it made me feel something real. Something I've never felt before."

For a moment, there's a glimmer of understanding in Mingyu's eyes, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could work out between you. He takes a step towards you, reaching out as if to touch you, but you step back, your heart still raw from his earlier words.

"I'm hurt," you whisper, your voice breaking with emotion. "And I need some time alone to figure things out."

With that, you turn and walk away, leaving Mingyu standing there, his gaze following you with a mixture of longing and regret. And as you disappear from view, you can't help but wonder if you've made the right decision... or if you've just made a terrible mistake.

Mingyu stands in the doorway, his expression pensive as he takes in the sight of you curled up on the bed, your breath trembling from your recent tears. He hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to approach you, before finally taking a step into the room.

"I... I wanted to talk to you," he begins, his voice soft and hesitant. "I know things have been... difficult between us lately, and I just wanted to say..."

He pauses, struggling to find the right words as he searches your face for any sign of understanding. "When I first heard that a rich girl was coming to our farm, I'll admit, I had my doubts," he admits, his gaze dropping to the floor as he speaks. "I thought you would be like all the others – snobbish, entitled, looking down on us like we were beneath you."

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what comes next. "But you proved me wrong," he continues, his voice growing stronger with each word. "You learned everything we taught you, you got along with everyone, and... despite our bickering, you seemed so genuine."

Mingyu's words hang in the air, the weight of his apology lingering between you. He takes a step closer, his eyes pleading for understanding as he searches your face for any sign of forgiveness.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for the way I've treated you, for the things I've said. I was wrong to judge you based on where you come from, and... I hope you can forgive me."

There's a vulnerability in Mingyu's voice that tugs at your heartstrings, a sincerity that you can't ignore. You feel a lump form in your throat as you meet his gaze, seeing the regret and remorse etched in his features.

"I... I forgive you," you whisper, your voice barely audible as you speak. "And... I'm sorry too. For the way I've acted, for... everything."

Mingyu's eyes soften at your words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thank you," he says, his voice filled with gratitude. "And... I hope we can start over. Put all this behind us and... move forward."

In the bustling city where love often feels like just another commodity, you found something rare and precious in the countryside with Mingyu – an intense and fast connection that seemed to defy all logic and expectation. It was as if you could parachute jump into this feeling without a second thought, without fear of falling.

[jj-one]

MIND GAMES ⋅˚₊ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

── ✧ ˚. ꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ bf!Jungkook x gf!reader ˒˓ established relationship genre/tags. smut, v small amount of angst, fluff, thigh riding, face sitting, body worshipping, jk lowkey simping hella hard in this & we love to see it <3 words. 1.4k

**old repost from my deleted blog

“Can you stop ignoring me please? It's driving me crazy.” You whine to your nonchalant boyfriend, urging him to mutter at least one word.

He has been giving you the silent treatment since this morning. You and Jungkook got into a petty argument that could've been easily resolved within seconds had he not just stormed out mid-convo.

Rightfully so— you were upset by him not wanting to talk things out and he got all defensive by saying you were ‘overreacting’. The bickering only spiraled from there and once you realized you had to leave for work you left without even saying goodbye.

You felt bad for not at least giving a peck on the cheek but you were slightly annoyed by how immature he could be at times. Once you came back home, you wanted to talk with him immediately to patch things up yet he's still being difficult with you. His silence was speaking mere volumes.

“So you're really going to play that game now huh? You know you can't ignore me forever Kook.” You snicker, all those pent up emotions filling you with an intense longing for him. “Can you say something?”

Jungkook remained quiet as a mouse, still refusing to speak, just sitting there examining you. Taking all of you in, basking in his own little glory. He wasn't trying to ignore you at first but now it has turned into a game for him. His only goal was seeing how far he could push your buttons until you break.

There was nothing more frustrating than craving someone's affection. His affection. Usually he'd give it to you on a silver platter, spoiling you with all the love and attention he could provide. But today — you were gonna have to work for it, and that you did.

Since talking wasn't the solution you try your best guess and think of something else. That's when an evil plan struck your mind — you were going to get a word of out him one way or another.

You were still wearing your work clothes so you strip naked right in front him, taking off every piece of clothing to only leave you in your panties. He tried to make it not so obvious that he was staring but you could feel his eyes on you the whole time. Still quiet, he looks up at you with his big, brown doe eyes — glancing over every inch of your bare form.

Licking his lips while leaning back on the couch he takes in all of you, losing himself in your alluring gaze. As much as he wanted to believe he had all the control in this situation, you played a deafening role in making sure this won't be an easy win for him.

As soon as you fully undressed you make your way over to Jungkook, subtly swaying your hips to send a rise out of him. Walking up to your boyfriend you find yourself straddling his thighs between your legs, the bitter silence only creating a thicker tension. His face looked so innocent, you couldn't help but go in to kiss him. Grabbing the side of his face to pull him in for a sweet, sensual kiss, molding your lips to match his hungry movement.

He was passionate with the kiss — almost leaving you winded by the end. You could tell that he's been holding that in since this morning, you couldn't open your eyes afterwards, savoring in the taste of him on your tongue.

“I'm an asshole, sorry y/n. I don't know why I do the things I do sometimes… but l'm thankful I have someone as patient as you in my life.” Jungkook finally spoke, his gentle tone brings you a familiar source of comfort.

Heated make outs turned you both into even more dangerous territory. A constant rush of heat surges throughout your body, leading all the way down to your aching core, you swung your head back in pleasure while riding your boyfriend's pretty, muscular thighs. The light-blue distressed jeans he wore showing just the slightest bit of skin to make you go feral. The weak, sweaty kisses in between rutting against him — the friction of his jeans grazing over your clothed heat, making you feverishly whimper out for him.

Jungkook couldn't keep his hands off you if he tried. Everything about you is absolutely stunning and perfect to him. His hands dance along the perimeters of your body, tracing every line and curve of your heavenly beauty — embarking on the notion that you are all his. He needs to show how grateful and lucky he is to have you more often.

“God... need you so bad right now..I don't wanna waste another second without having my cock inside you.” He keens, migrating his lips up the side of your earlobe.

He's going to have to put in the work to get a reward like that though.

“I want you to eat me out then we can talk later.” You boldly counter, not even giving him an option at this point.

His face lights up with an idea, “Wanna sit on my face princess?” You nod right away, letting Jungkook maneuver you to the side so he could lye down comfortably — he looks up at you with wandering eyes as you go in for another kiss. He hums into the kiss, moving his hands to grab your ass. It's beginning to become too unbearable to keep your panties on.

Breaking the kiss to remove your soaked underwear, you toss them on the floor and meet your boyfriend's handsome face once again.

The anticipation was killing him, he couldn't wait to devour your pretty little pussy already ;( As soon as you positioned yourself below him, he held onto your thighs with both hands — making eye contact with you as he pressed a kiss to your swollen bud.

Any minor touch to your clit makes you overtly sensitive, letting out a tiny mewl from the light action. His lips part open to dip his tongue into your wetness, “mmmh... fuck Koo” you hiss, already needing to brace yourself to not cum early. His mouth always works magic on you, leaving you with an earth-shattering orgasm every single time.

He flattens his tongue completely now, dragging a long stripe across your slit, drinking up all your essence, letting none of you go to waste. His face was so deeply buried into you all you could see now was the top of his head — grabbing a fistful of his messy hair to pull on later. You rock your hips back and forth to build more movement, grinding on his face while not having a care in the world if he could breathe or not.

From the looks of it, there were no complications on his end since he started moaning against you — the vibrations sending instant chills to your spine. You feel his nose brush up against your bundle of nerves, his tongue appears again to spread it’s brutal attack on your clit. His warmth on the sensitive sprout makes you jut your hips into a hastier motion.

“Shit... keep going just like that…i'll cum all over your face,” you cry out, feeling yourself close to making a huge mess and creaming all over his face.

“Cum on my face please, my precious little doll.” He only breaks away to say that quickly and attaches hisself back instantly.

Those words did it for you, it was like ultimate green light to reaching your climax. Two digits enter your weeping cunt and his tongue goes back to sucking on your puffy abused clit — the knot in your stomach tightens as he produces sloppier licks to your leaking folds.

A lusty, guttural moan escaped your lips, screaming your boyfriend's name at the top of your lungs. Jungkook keeps your hips steady with a tight grasp to help ride out your intense high; his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping. His face saturated with the glint of your sweet nectar, he licks his lips and savors the delicious taste of you, there's nothing that'll ever compare.

"So beautiful my baby.. so fucking gorgeous.." he chants under his breath, kissing the apex of your thighs. He'll never get tired of admiring your pretty body— or you in general.

Jungkook has always been more of a giver than a receiver, he likes to watch his partner writhe under him, loves when they cry and violently shake while he's giving them the most pleasurable moments of their life. He also likes to get what he wants in the end but that isn't always needed for him to be satisfied. He'll get his nut eventually, but in the meantime he's going to keep playing with you some more.

[mirohlayo]

LITTLE SPOON

( Lando is always the big spoon, so you decided to reverse the roles. )

warning : fluff and fluff and fluff

note : lando who says he never tried to be the little spoon in the chicken shop date video gave me this absolutely cute idea 🥹

word count : 1.3k

It was a pretty busy and stressful day for Lando. Free practice on the Australian circuit was very intense. Despite the fact that these tests went rather well, the fact remains that the curly-haired driver had only been waiting for one thing since this morning: to rest with his girlfriend in his arms.

This day exhausted Lando to the point where he couldn't think of anything other than throwing himself on you and cuddling you until you fell asleep, in each other's arms. The only thing he needs now is to see your pretty face and snuggle up to you.

So, while you were lying on the large double bed that reigned in your hotel room, you absentmindedly watched the television hanging on the wall opposite. You stayed almost all day in the paddock, and more particularly in the garage to support your boyfriend. But the fatigue was much more present and Lando encouraged you to rest at the hotel.

You waited patiently for your lover, because you too knew that he desired your presence just as much as you desired his. And in a fairly short space of time, you see your favorite driver suddenly appear in front of you, leaning against the door frame.

He can't help but smile at the sight of you. He missed seeing your pretty face, and your magnificent smile that you currently wear on your lips. You're just adorable and Lando only wants to cover your face with thousands of kisses.

“Hey baby” He approaches the bed, to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “How did the free practice sessions go?” You ask him curiously, but instead of receiving an answer he places another kiss on your cheek. "I don't want to talk about that. My beautiful girl is here just for me so I want to focus all my attention on her".

He smiles at you like a child, before changing into more comfortable clothes. He then comes back to you again, and without further delay he jumps into bed to take you in his arms. However, you intercept his gesture and step back, leaving him with his arms wide open, empty without the presence of your body.

He frowns, somewhat hurt by your gesture. You give him a comforting smile, before opening your arms too. “Now it’s your turn to be the little spoon.” You nod for him to come and snuggle against your body, but he continues to display a perplexed expression.

"No, I've always been the big spoon. I've never been the little spoon so why should I be now?" He tries to convince you to keep your usual roles, namely you in his arms while he comes to hold you tightly against his chest.

You widen your eyes, surprised. "What? You've never tried to be the little spoon before?" You ask quite surprised. He shakes his head no. "I've always played the role of the big spoon. I prefer it." It's your turn to frown now. "Well it's the perfect time to switch roles. I'm going to be the big spoon and you the little one, okay?"

Lando remains skeptical for a moment, preoccupied with the idea of being the little spoon. He loves having you safe and warm in his arms, being able to hold you a little tighter every minute against him, being able to admire your face as you relax in his embrace. If he becomes the little spoon, he won't be able to do that.

Finally, he shakes his head and leans back, crossing his arms. "No. If I was the little spoon I wouldn't be able to have you in my arms, and I don't like that." You have the impression of seeing him pout and this vision makes you smile stupidly. However, you roll your eyes, exhausted by his perhaps a little too dramatic reactions.

"Baby, if you don't try to be the little spoon you'll never know what it's like to be one. I assure you the feeling is so good, you should really try." You try to make your softest eyes at him to convince him to change his mind. “You could at least do that for your girlfriend right?” You look at him begging.

He stares at you with narrowed eyes, still somewhat skeptical. But your puppy dog face and your desire to hold him are too much for him. He can't resist his girl's desires, because after all, you're the priority and he can never say no to the person he loves most in the world.

He sighs before letting go. “Okay, I can try being the little spoon.” You jump with joy and excitement as he rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. You lay back down on the mattress and open your arms again, now forcing him to come into your embrace.

He smiles mischievously at you before finally collapsing into your arms, trying to snuggle as close to your body as he can. Your arms come around and hug him tightly against your body, while he nestles his head in the crook of your neck. His curls tickle the skin of your neck, while you let out some giggle.

After finally finding the most comfortable position, you feel your boyfriend relax in your arms, randomly placing a few kisses in the crook of your neck or on your shoulders. You play with his hair, wrapping a few curls around your finger or lightly pulling on it to make it bounce.

He lets out a small groan of pleasure, nestling a little closer against you, as you gently caress his back. You lower your head to admire him. He really seems like a helpless child, who just needs love and comfort. It's just adorable.

You giggle, which makes him raise his head to look into yours with his beautiful gaze. "What ?" He asks, completely lost. You hold back another laugh. "Nothing. You're just really adorable and cute, baby" He blushes violently at your words, as he nuzzles his head against your neck again to hide his pink cheeks. "C'mon, you don't need to hide. You know I like it when you blush"

He groans again before lifting his head to return his gaze to your face. You place a kiss on his cheek, while his eyes narrow, a sign that he is smiling. “So, do you prefer to be the little spoon or the big spoon ?” You finally ask. He pauses, taking time to think.

"Hmm... The big one. I like feeling you safe and warm in my arms. And what's more, I can admire the beauty of my baby" You raised your eyebrows slightly. “So you don’t like being the little spoon?” "That's not what I said" He said in defense, before diving his head back against your neck.

You end up falling asleep in each other's arms, Lando comfortably ensconced in your embrace as he smiles at the touch of your hand stroking his back and the other coming to play with his hair.

However, what you won't know is that he secretly admits that he loves being the little spoon. To feel your arms around him, to smell your sweet perfume, to feel your gentle caresses and your hands in his hair, to simply feel loved and safe in your arms. He'll never admit it but he loves this feeling more than anything in the world.

So after this day, this change of role, you will find him becoming the little spoon much more often than you thought. He will no longer be able to stop himself from coming to snuggle up against you, from nestling his head in the crook of your neck and leaving hundreds of kisses there, because after all there is no doubt about it : he secretly prefers be the little spoon.